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‘I didn’t. I don’t.’ She managed to speak at last. ‘I had no idea…’
‘Miss Woodhill and I encountered each other yesterday,’ Dominic said, realising that the young lady was as surprised as he was and had not come to dun him. ‘Twice.’
‘Twice! Then you must tell me all about it.’
‘There is nothing to tell,’ Emma said, pulling herself together. ‘His lordship came on board the ship on which I travelled from India and we met a second time when my brother and I were dining at the hotel. I had no idea he would be there. Nor did I know who he was until now.’ She hoped he was convinced.
‘Oh, but that is good, don’t you see? We are connected already.’ Lucy turned to her brother. ‘Dominic, Miss Woodhill is applying for the post of companion. Do say you will agree.’
‘Miss Woodhill is a little young, Lucy dear,’ he murmured. ‘I am surprised the agency sent her. I asked for a mature lady, preferably one with a little experience of guiding young ladies.’
‘Dragons!’ said Lucy scornfully. ‘They would be as bad as Aunt Agatha. I don’t want to be hemmed in by dos and don’ts and lectures on etiquette and what is becoming to a young lady. And you know after I turned the last one away, they said they would not send any more.’
He smiled. ‘No, they said Miss Besthorpe was obviously spoiled and they would not wish anyone of sensibility on her. Which is not at all the same thing.’ He turned to Emma. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Woodhill, I did not mean to imply…’
She had recovered sufficiently to smile. ‘That I was lacking in sensibility?’
‘Not at all. I was simply pointing out that my sister can be impossibly difficult to please.’
‘That’s not fair!’ Lucy cried. ‘If I had someone I liked I would be as biddable as you please. And I like Miss Woodhill.’
Emma smiled. ‘Thank you, Miss Besthorpe, but it is of little consequence what the agency thinks of my suitability. The decision is his lordship’s.’
’Touché!’ He laughed in delight. Here was no terrified underling, but a girl of spirit and he liked that. Not that Society would consider her as a suitable duenna for his sister. Lucy needed a strong hand. But their present situation was highly irregular, as everyone had been pointing out, ever since their parents had died within a few weeks of each other just over a year before; he was a bachelor and it was highly improper for Lucy to continue to live with him, either in town or at their country estate, though it wasn’t so important at Cavenham House.
Aunt Agatha had offered to take her, but Lucy had begged not to go and, as usual, Lucy had got her own way. She had not been boasting when she said she could wind him about her little finger.
When their fortunes began to take a turn for the better, he had promised her a Season and for that, they must observe the rules of Society, which meant Lucy must have a companion and chaperon, someone who would observe the proprieties and guide her in the correct behaviour, preferably someone of mature years. Miss Woodhill hardly fitted that description.
He paced the room, while the two girls watched him in silence. He ought to turn her away, letting her down as gently as possible, but it was true that Lucy had been very difficult to please and the agency was losing patience. There was the added complication that, because of Princess Charlotte’s wedding, everybody who was anybody would be in London this year, even those who had long ago retired to the country, and good servants would be hard to find.
He stopped pacing and turned towards Emma. ‘Please sit down, Miss Woodhill, and allow me continue the interview.’ He indicated one of the sofas and, as soon as she had taken her seat, sat opposite her, leaving Lucy to prowl about the room.
‘Now,’ he said, ignoring his sister. ‘Tell me all about yourself. Captain Greenaway told me you have lately become bereaved and I offer my condolences…’
‘Thank you, my lord. My father was employed as a Civil Servant.’ She had decided not to reveal that her father had been a soldier; it was too easy to verify the names of serving officers. ‘He died about seven months ago.’
‘I am sorry. Tell me why you decided to come to England.’
She hesitated only momentarily. ‘It is not easy for a lady to live alone in India, and I had my brother to think of. We thought it would be easier to find employment here. I had no idea it would be so difficult. There is so much prejudice…’
One well-defined brow lifted. ‘Prejudice or caution, Miss Woodhill?’
‘Both. Although my parents were English, I was born in India and lived all my life there until now; prospective employers seem to think it means I have lived like a savage. I can assure you, my lord, that British Society in Calcutta is every bit as civilised as that in London.’ It was no more than the truth, but she knew she was on shaky ground. It was not that she thought he was prejudiced but if he were to check on her story, he would discover that no one in Calcutta had heard of Miss Woodhill.
She stood up suddenly, unable to continue. ‘I am sorry to have taken your time, my lord.’
‘Sit down, Miss Woodhill. I have not finished.’
His voice was so authoritarian, she almost fell back into her seat.
‘Dominic, don’t bully,’ Lucy said. ‘You frighten Miss Woodhill.’
He smiled at Emma. ‘Do I frighten you?’
‘Not at all, my lord.’ Which was true. It was shame, not fright, which had made her want to run away.
‘Then let us continue. You are, how old?’
She stifled the retort that it was ungentlemanly to enquire a lady’s age; he had every right to ask and, as far as he was concerned, she was no lady. ‘Twenty-two.’
‘Twenty-two is very young for a chaperon, Miss Woodhill. Why, you are not above an age for needing one yourself.’
‘Oh, come, my lord, you flatter me. I am old enough to be independent and to have had some experience.’
‘And what form has that taken?’
This business of deception was more difficult than she had imagined, especially when her interrogator looked at her with such warm friendliness. She had to force herself to meet his gaze. ‘I was lady’s maid and companion to Miss Emma Mountforest.’
‘But that’s…’ Lucy began but Dominic held up his hand to silence her.
‘If you persist in interrupting, Lucy, I shall send you away.’ He turned back to Emma. ‘You have the same Christian name as Miss Mountforest.’
‘Yes, I was named for her.’ She and Teddy had decided not to change their given names because they might be uneasy with new ones and forget to answer to them. She opened her reticule and produced the reference she had written herself. ‘This is from Miss Mountforest.’
He took it but did not read it immediately, preferring to trust his own judgement about people, but the name of Miss Woodhill’s previous employer had astonished him. ‘Why did you leave her employ?’
Emma faltered. She had not realised how one untruth led to another and was beginning to wonder where it would end. It would be almost a relief if she were turned away, but then what else could she do? ‘Miss Mountforest had lately lost her own father and was going to live with friends. I don’t know where, but she said she would no longer be able to employ a personal maid.’
‘I see. And so you came to England to seek your fortune.’ He smiled suddenly and his whole face was lit with warmth. ‘You know, it is usually the other way about. People travel from this country to India to make their fortunes.’ He paused, watching her face. Why did he have the impression she was hiding something? It made him curious. ‘But perhaps not ladies.’
‘No, but I am hardly a lady. I am used to making my own decisions and looking after myself.’ She brushed a brown, ringless hand over her skirt and noticed it was shaking. His questions were becoming too probing, too personal, and more and more difficult to answer. She would do better to steer him towards more practical matters. She clasped her hands together in her lap and forced herself to look at him. ‘I should, of course, like to know exactly what my duties would be and the hours I should be expected to work. And the remuneration, of course.’
‘Naturally. Your duties would simply be to be a companion to Lucy, to help her dress, advise her on such things as etiquette, act as her chaperon. It follows that the hours you work will vary from day to day, but rest assured they would not be onerous. Do you think you could manage that? My sister is very self-willed, you know.’
Emma smiled. ‘Miss Besthorpe seems to me to be a delightful young lady and no more self-willed than any other of her age and I envisage no difficulty. I am sure she knows very well how to go on. Age is no criteria for wisdom.’
Lucy clapped her hands with delight. ‘There! I knew Miss Woodhill would be a match for you, brother. I don’t know why you are quizzing her so hard, when I already know all I need to know.’
‘Oh, do not be hard on him,’ Emma told her. ‘He has only your welfare at heart and he would be a poor guardian if he did not make every endeavour for your safety and comfort.’
‘Thank you, Miss Woodhill,’ Dominic said solemnly, bowing towards her. But his seriousness was counterbalanced by the twinkle of humour in his brown eyes, to which she responded with a smile which almost overwhelmed him. He found himself wanting to help her. How else could he do it but give her employment?
His doubts about her suitability gave way to a conviction that she would be an asset to any household, not as a servant, but as wife and mother. The thought startled him, for was he not engaged to be married? He forced himself back to the matter in hand and tried to look stern. ‘I presume you are unmarried with no emotional entanglements? I ask because you will be required to live in and devote yourself to my sister.’
‘I understand that, my lord. The man I was to marry died of fever four years ago. There has been no one since then, but, as you know, I do have a brother.’
‘I see. He is not yet suited?’
‘Oh, Dominic, do find something for Miss Woodhill’s brother,’ Lucy put in. ‘I do so want her to come to us.’
‘Lucy,’ he said patiently. ‘You know how careful we have to be over—’
‘Oh, my lord, I did not mean…’ Emma said. ‘I was not…’ She stopped and began again. ‘Teddy has been educated to good degree; he is not looking for domestic work. He has gone to India House and will doubtless be given employment there.’
‘Of course. Your father’s name will be known to them.’
‘Yes,’ she said, wishing the ground would swallow her. This was becoming harder and harder, but once started on the deception, there was no way she could stop it without confessing all. And she could not do it. Teddy was relying on her.
‘As for wages,’ he went on. ‘What do you say to fifty pounds a year and all found?’
Emma had no way of knowing that this was more than generous and did a quick conversion to rupees, which was a futile exercise because standards were so different in India. On the other hand, she would be living in and, as pin money, it would do very well. The only trouble was that if Teddy did not find a post where he could live in, she would have to pay for his lodgings. ‘I would prefer to be paid monthly, my lord,’ she said.
‘Very well, monthly it shall be.’ He smiled and held out his hand. ‘Let us shake hands on the deal and you may start as soon as you wish, then you will have time to become accustomed to your duties before the Season begins in earnest.’
Emma found her hand clasped in a cool, dry grip and found herself thinking what an uncommonly attractive man he was, not only physically, but in temperament. His smile made her feel as though she was of some consequence; he treated her like an equal even when he had no cause to think of her as anything but a servant. She hated herself for deceiving him and didn’t know how she was going to survive seeing him every day and living a lie.
Perhaps he would be busy, out and about doing masculine, bachelor things, and she would not need to see much of him. Why did that thought sadden her? ‘Thank you, my lord,’ she said, retrieving her hand. ‘I will start the day after tomorrow, if I may.’
‘Oh, I am so pleased,’ Lucy exclaimed, as Dominic went over to the secretaire and opened a drawer. ‘I shall look forward to seeing you then.’
‘You will need this.’ Dominic came forward, offering a small bag which Emma realised contained coins.
‘My lord?’ she queried doubtfully. ‘I have earned nothing yet.’
‘It is customary, Miss Woodhill, to give a small advance for clothes and suchlike.’ He gave Lucy a warning look to stop her contradicting him. ‘You know better than I what you need.’
Emma wondered if he were criticising her dress, but she was in no position to be disdainful of an advance. She accepted gratefully and took her leave, hardly noticing the young man who was at that moment approaching the house. She had done it! She had a job and somewhere to live, and she only hoped that his lordship never found out the truth. Somehow she knew he would be more hurt than angry and she never wanted to hurt him. She would have to work hard, learn her job and be a true friend to Miss Besthorpe.
Her reverie was brought to a startling end by a commotion in the street. A chimney boy, black as Satan and carrying a bundle of brushes on his shoulder, had turned suddenly towards one of the houses and his pole had come into contact with the rump of a horse which had been hitched to a tree outside the Marquis’s gate. The startled animal bolted, to the accompaniment of screams and shouts from passers-by, which only served to increase its terror. Its owner, who had been taking the steps, two at a time, up to Lord Besthorpe’s door, turned to run after it. Emma sprang back out of his way as he brushed past her, just as someone darted out from nowhere and grabbed the runaway’s reins.
In that moment she realised, with a shock, that it was her brother and he was being dragged along the road, while everyone in the vicinity stood and stared. But he clung on manfully and brought the horse to a shuddering halt. He was standing with his head up against the horse’s, murmuring soothingly to it, when its owner came up to him. Emma hurried to join them.
‘I’m obliged to you, young shaver,’ the man was saying and Emma realised it was the man who had been with Lord Besthorpe at Grillons the evening they arrived in London. There was no mistaking his red-gold locks. ‘That was a spunky thing to do. Nelson could have caused no end of a furore with the traffic. He might done untold damage, not to mention injuring himself.’
‘He is still very agitated,’ Teddy said, patting the stallion’s neck. ‘It is hardly to be wondered at—such an out-and-out thoroughbred is bound to be spirited.’ The horse whinnied with pleasure at the fondling and soft voice of the young man. ‘See, he knows, doesn’t he? I wonder you subject him to the city traffic, sir.’
‘Impudent young bratling!’
‘Teddy, do mind your manners,’ Emma put in. She turned to the horse’s owner. ‘I am sorry for my brother’s rudeness, sir. I am afraid he was always more outspoken than was good for him. He meant no criticism.’
’emma, I do not need you to speak for me, much less tell what is in my mind,’ Teddy said. ‘A man who subjects a horse like that to the noise and bustle of city streets don’t deserve to own such a one.’
Emma was horrified, but the man started to laugh and he kept on laughing, until Teddy’s own mouth twitched and Emma found herself smiling.
‘You obviously know your horses, young man. Where did you learn about them?’
‘In India. We take care of our horses there.’
‘So we do in England.’ He smiled. ‘I do not customarily ride race horses in town and you were quite right to chide me, but, you see, I have only half an hour ago purchased him at Tattersall’s and could not resist the opportunity to ride him home.’
‘I beg pardon, sir,’ Teddy said. ‘I should not have been so quick to criticise without knowing the whole, but…’
‘No, you should not.’ He took the reins from Teddy’s hand and patted the horse. ‘But I am obliged to you for stopping him.’ He felt in his pocket for a coin with which to reward the boy.
‘I’ve seen you before,’ Teddy said, reluctant to let the beautiful animal go and ignoring the proffered half-crown. ‘You were at Grillons the other night with…’ He stopped suddenly confused, when he saw the man he had referred to as a Corinthian striding towards them.
‘I heard the commotion,’ he said. ‘Bertie, what’s amiss?’
‘I was on my way to see you, wanted to show off my latest purchase, tied him to a tree. Trouble was he was spooked by a chimney boy and this young shaver, not only stopped him, but afforded me a lecture on how I should look after him.’
Dominic smiled. ‘And you disliked that, I do not doubt.’ He walked slowly round the animal, now standing patiently at the side of the road. ‘He’s a beauty, isn’t he?’
‘Top of the trees. I bought him for stud, but I think I might give him a race or two. You should have seen him gallop down the road. Scattered everyone, except the lad.’
Dominic turned towards Teddy. ‘Mr Woodhill, I am happy to make your acquaintance.’
‘Oh, I am sorry,’ Emma put in, suddenly remembering her manners. ‘Lord Besthorpe, allow me to present my brother, Edward. Teddy, this is the Marquis of Cavenham.’
‘Marquis?’ Teddy’s expression was almost comical. ‘I say, Em, that’s a turn-up, ain’t it?’
‘What is?’ demanded the owner of the horse.
‘Why, that we should have bumped into his lordship three times in less than a se’ennight,’ Teddy said. ‘First on board the ship from India, then at Grillons. And I said to Em…’A look from Emma silenced him, for she was sure he was going to say something indiscreet.
‘Teddy, his lordship has been kind enough to give me a position in his household.’
‘Has he? Oh, that’s capital!’
‘Are you looking for work, young man?’ The query came from the man Dominic had addressed at Bertie.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Are you as good with horses as you say you are?’
‘Course I am. Ask my sister.’
‘Then I’ll give you a trial in my stables.’
‘A stable lad!’ said Teddy in tones of contempt. ‘I ain’t so sure…’
‘Teddy, don’t be so ungrateful!’ Emma remonstrated.
‘Mr Cosgrove doesn’t have your ordinary kind of stable,’ Dominic put in. ‘He’s one of the country’s foremost racehorse owners and breeders.’
‘There’s more like this one?’ Teddy queried, patting Nelson’s shining black neck.
‘Yes, several,’ Bertie said. ‘You’d have to come down to Newmarket and live in with the other lads. If you come up to the mark, you’d be able to exercise the horses of a morning.’
