Page 41

Sir Frederick let the note flutter from his fingers to his writing desk beneath the window while inwardly he groaned.

He’d been watching Miss Fairchild through the window and had been on the verge of joining her when young Henry had spoiled his plans.

And now this note from Mrs. Perry had turned what could have been a pleasant afternoon into a potential nightmare. The paper felt heavy in his hands, weighted with implications he had no desire to face.

Mrs. Perry thought she had the measure of him and would be confidently reposing shortly in the trysting room within the rotunda, awaiting his arrival.

What a fool he was to have allowed his old, worn-out reputation to linger.

But it was his fault to have walked into temptation and embraced it with open arms in the first place.

Oh, that embarrassment with Lady Eldredge when he’d been only a greenhorn. He knew that those were the rumors that had fueled Miss Fairchild’s distrust of him. She thought him a philanderer. A libertine.

Well, of course he enjoyed the company of beautiful, witty women.

What red-blooded male would turn down the overtures of a lush beauty like Lady Eldredge, who had declared her marriage dead and who claimed her loneliness could only be assuaged by an evening with a dashing war hero like Sir Frederick?

Of course, she’d used other language. Sir Frederick was not a war hero. Well, he was in some circles, but it was not as if he’d been lauded for his heroics in the press so that the whole world knew what only a few within military and government circles knew.

But she’d couched her compliments in such a way that they’d gone completely to Sir Frederick’s head, and he’d done what he knew very well at the time was rank stupidity.

Recently returned from war, in pain and licking his wounds—for he’d been unjustly maligned and it would be some months before he’d be exonerated—he’d needed tenderness and understanding.

That’s what he’d mistakenly attributed to Barbara, Lady Eldredge. Tenderness and genuine admiration when, in fact, she wanted only to toy with a man she found, at that particular moment, attractive.

The scandal had been splashed throughout the broadsheets and in all the gossip sheets throughout the country once Lord Eldredge had got wind of his wife’s infidelity.

Apparently, the marriage wasn’t dead, and Lord Eldredge hadn’t sanctioned his extramarital affairs while he dallied with his own mistress.

If Sir Frederick had been a few years older, perhaps he’d have been wise to it. But for a youth of barely twenty-three, with little previous experience of women, Sir Frederick had been ripe for the picking.

So excoriating was the experience that he’d thrown himself carelessly into another couple of liaisons, since nothing could damage his reputation any further, he’d thought at the time.

Now, Mrs. Perry was trading on the fact that he’d succumb to her lures.

She mightn’t have been wrong a few years previously.

But she’d misread him this time.

Four o’clock in the rotunda.

Ought he go there just so he could explain to her that his interest lay elsewhere?

Or should he ignore her letter and run the risk of offending her? Sir Frederick knew that scorned women had a habit of finding an especially cutting vengeance for their targets.

But then, if he didn’t try to make his case clear, when they were safely in private so that there was no risk of her being embarrassed, matters might progress from simply awkward to much worse.

Snatching up his hat, he strode to the door, not hesitating when, in truth, he had deep reservations about this assignation.

Best to nip in the bud any hopes she might have, he kept telling himself as he crossed the lawn, head down, shoulders hunched.

He did not want to go through with this. He suspected Mrs. Perry might have a temper to match her vivacity. She’d take his gentle let-down personally and then who knew what might ensure?

*

Amelia and Henry had parted ways, stepping out of the library after she’d agreed to discuss the matter with someone trusted so as to help make a considered decision on the matter.

Sir Frederick? Henry had asked. Did she trust him?

And of course Amelia had nodded. Sir Frederick had been with her when they’d discovered the crypt, when they’d seen the register with its incriminating entry.

A crack of thunder in the far distance made her turn her head to look out of the window and she thought she glimpsed the figure of a gentleman heading towards the lake, but when she squinted, she could see no one.

Still damp from her earlier drenching outdoors, she was about to make for her room to change quickly when she saw Ladies Pendleton and Townsend approaching from the turn in the corridor.

“My dear Miss Fairchild! Have you been out in the rain?” Lady Townsend asked, her brow creased in concern.

Amelia put her hand to her bonnet and sent the ladies a rueful look. “I thought to dry my hair from the previous downpour when the sun showed its face. But I miscalculated, didn’t I? Fortunately, my hair is dryer than the rest of me.”

“Well, you just hurry along to your room so you’ll have plenty of time to ready yourself for this evening,” said Lady Townsend, adding slyly, “Aren’t you the sensible one, coming straight back to the house instead of crossing the lawn to seek shelter in the rotunda which I’ve just seen some unwary soul do.

You’d have been stuck, for I don’t know how long since I do believe the rain has set in for the afternoon. ”

“Why, Lady Townsend, who could have been so foolish?” her friend asked, frowning out of the window. “Should you send a servant?”

“Oh, Sir Frederick perhaps wasn’t so foolish after all and just wanted some privacy,” said Lady Pendleton. “Half the ladies under this roof are chasing after him. The poor man can’t turn around without Miss Playford asking his opinion on some inanity, or Mrs. Perry demanding admiration.”

Lady Townsend looked a little startled before she said in a rush, “At least you, my dear Miss Fairchild, are someone with whom he can enjoy an intelligent conversation and whom he doesn’t wish to run away from. Yes, that was in fact, the gist of his conversation with me only this morning.”

“But he did also admire Mrs. Perry for her wit, so don’t allow Miss Fairchild false hopes,” Lady Pendleton cut in as she took her friend’s arm and began to steer her away.

“I do think you should wear your blue gown, Miss Fairchild,” said Lady Townsend over her shoulder, her voice cracking with concern. “Sir Frederick did mention how fine you looked in blue.”

Her final words were lost as they rounded the corner, and Amelia felt herself rooted to the spot.

Sir Frederick was in the rotunda seeking respite from his female admirers, one of whom was Amelia?

No, that wasn’t the tenor of their relationship and Amelia had no time to worry about niceties like whether it would be too forward to go on search of him.

Not when there was such a matter of urgency she needed to discuss with him.

Making sure that her hostess and Lady Townsend were far away, and that there was no one else to observe her, Amelia tied the ribbons of her bonnet, turned back the way she had come, and prepared to brave the rain once more.

The rain was still falling steadily as Amelia approached the rotunda. Its elegant columns looked almost sinister in the stormy light. Of course, she was here only because of Mr. Greene’s letter.

It had nothing to do with the thought of Sir Frederick alone with Mrs. Perry in the rotunda’s intimate inner chamber.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she nearly collided with Sir Frederick himself as she entered.

“Miss Fairchild!” He steadied her with gentle hands. “What brings you out in such weather?”

“I…” The words stuck in her throat as she realized how close they were standing. “That is, Henry just showed me something—a letter—” Thunder crashed directly overhead, making her jump.

“Come inside before you’re soaked through.” He guided her into the inner room, his hand warm at the small of her back. “Though I confess, I’m glad of the interruption. I came early specifically to head off Mrs. Perry’s advances.”

“Oh?” Amelia tried to sound disinterested as she watched him close the heavy door against the storm. “I wouldn’t wish to interrupt any… private meetings.”

His laugh was unexpected. “The only private meeting I wish for is this one.” He turned to face her, his eyes intense in the dim light. “Now, what’s this about a letter? I thought we’d had enough excitement after this morning’s visit to the church.”

But before Amelia could respond, a gust of wind rattled the rotunda’s windows, making the candle flames dance wildly in their sconces. The storm-darkened room felt suddenly intimate, almost too intimate, as Sir Frederick moved closer.

“Before you tell me anything, there’s something I need to say.

” His voice was low, urgent. “I’ve been ruminating while waiting out the storm.

I think it’s fair to say that while you and I deal well together, you nevertheless keep me at a distance.

And I know why. You alluded to it this morning, and you made clear that your Thomas was quick to attribute to me certain injustices.

Others, I accept. You think me a libertine, Miss Fairchild, and perhaps once I was.

But that affair with Lady Eldredge—it wasn’t what you imagine. ”

Amelia’s heart beat faster. “I don’t need explanations—”

“But you do.” His hand found hers in the dim light. “I was young, newly returned from war with wounds both visible and hidden. She offered comfort when I most needed it, though I discovered too late it was false comfort.”

“I didn’t follow every detail of the scandal…” Amelia looked away, glancing up when he laughed softly.

“Only some of them?” he asked. “You see, I had admired you greatly when we first met at the Bath Assembly Ball. I did not know you already had an admirer in Thomas Blackheath—”