Annie Burrows - Four Regency Rogues

She had thought he was tall when mounted, but now she realised he must be over six foot in height, a giant of a man and not one to be easily intimidated. But neither was she. ‘My lord,’ she responded coolly. She had not been brought up to attend church regularly, but she had realised that not to go might make for gossip. As she did not want anyone to connect her with his disappearance six years before, she had come, telling herself that she would take herself off immediately after the service. She had not bargained for the parson’s interference. She turned from him to the Countess. ‘My lady, how do you do?’

‘I am well, thank you. And you?’ The Countess was, as ever, graciousness itself, and whatever Charlotte felt about the late Earl and his son, she liked her and felt sorry for her.

‘I am in fine fettle,’ she said, risking a glance at the Earl. He was looking at her intently, as if trying to read what was going on in her head. She hoped not, because her thoughts were confused. She had to admit she found his rugged good looks attractive, more so than the immature looks of the boy who had disdained her, and had to tell herself sternly that he could never be forgiven that.

‘Did you have a good voyage home?’ the Countess asked.

She laughed. ‘The sea was somewhat rough, but I survived it.’

‘Miss Cartwright has recently returned from a visit to Jamaica,’ his mother explained to Roland. ‘She has a sugar plantation out there.’

‘Indeed?’ he said. So that accounted for the name of her house; Mandeville he knew to be a Jamaican town. ‘And slaves, too, no doubt?’

‘The trade slave has been outlawed, Lord Temple,’ she said, noticing the Countess’s look of shock that he should mention such a thing.

‘The trade, yes, but not the ownership.’

‘True, but there would be hue and cry if the law decreed they had to be freed,’ she said. ‘We should have no sugar, tobacco or cotton. It would be disastrous for the British economy.’ She wondered why she did not tell him that her slaves had been given their freedom instead of repeating parrot fashion the arguments her father had used when she had questioned him on the subject. Obstinacy, she supposed, and a mischievous wish to score a point over him.

His mother touched his arm, warning him not to continue. ‘Point taken, Miss Cartwright,’ he said, smiling as if he knew perfectly well what she was about. It disconcerted her to think he could read her mind like that.

‘Have you ever visited the Indies, my lord?’

‘No, never.’

‘Perhaps you should.’

‘One day, perhaps. Did you not find the climate uncomfortably hot?’

‘I do not suppose it was any worse than the heat in Spain.’

‘Probably not,’ he agreed. ‘One becomes used to it. But it is good to be back in England’s softer climate, do you not agree?’

‘Oh, most decidedly, and especially in springtime.’

The conversation ground to a halt. His mother plucked at his sleeve. ‘Good day, Miss Cartwright.’ He touched his hat again and, taking his mother’s arm, guided her to their carriage to return to the dower house.

‘Roland, how could you?’ his mother scolded him. ‘It is not like you to be discourteous.’

‘Perhaps I let my feelings on the subject carry me away,’ he replied unrepentantly.

Charlotte walked to the churchyard gate with Lady Brandon. ‘Charlotte, why did you not tell him you had freed your slaves?’ her ladyship queried, watching his departing back.

‘Because I did not choose to. He has no right to criticise me.’

‘Do you think he is married?’

‘I am sure I do not know.’

‘I should not be at all surprised if he did not have a Spanish wife tucked away somewhere, and we shall be expected to receive her. And just look at him! Was that meant to be a uniform he was wearing?’

‘It is the uniform of the 95th Rifles,’ Charlotte murmured. ‘I believe they are considered some of our finest fighters and always in the vanguard of any attack.’

‘Is that so?’

‘So I have read. And it seems to me that a green uniform is much more practical than a red one. It is less easily seen by the enemy.’

‘That is as may be,’ her ladyship said. ‘But I still say it made the Earl look devilish sombre.’

‘Good heavens, Catherine, he surely has reason to be sombre,’ Charlotte said, surprised to find herself defending him. ‘His father died while he was away and now he finds himself owner of a crumbling mansion and a run-down estate. It will be interesting to see how he comes about.’

‘No doubt he will marry an heiress.’

‘What happened to the Spanish wife?’ Charlotte asked mischievously.

‘Charlotte, is it in your nature to be perverse? Or is it simply that you enjoy provoking me?’

‘Oh, I am definitely perverse,’ Charlotte said, laughing.

They had reached her curricle, with its patient horse standing in the lane, and she bade her ladyship goodbye and drove herself home. In spite of telling herself what Roland Temple did was no concern of hers, that she despised him, she had frequently found herself thinking about him since his return and wondering how they would go on when they met again, because in a village as small as Amerleigh, they could not fail to meet. And now she knew. It was war.

Chapter Two

Later that day Roland fetched Travers, and they went on foot to inspect the big house. ‘I might as well go and see what needs to be done,’ he told him.

Taking the great key his mother had given him, he unlocked the stout oak door and stepped inside. Even the dilapidated state of the exterior did not prepare him for the interior. The downstairs rooms had been cleared of anything of value, leaving only the heavy old Jacobean furniture, which had long gone out of fashion; there was hardly a stick of decent furniture left and most of the carpets had gone. The walls were bare of pictures, though it was easy to see on the faded wallpaper where they had once hung.

Travers followed him from room to room. ‘If you don’t mind my saying so, Major,’ he said. ‘It could be a villa in Spain after the Frenchies have done with it.’

‘Yes.’ It was far worse than he had expected. How had it got like this? What had his father been thinking of to let it happen? Surely his mother was mistaken and it had nothing to do with Cartwright and a worthless strip of land? An unwise investment made by his father, perhaps. But if that were so, why had Mountford not advised him against it? His mother was right, a visit to the lawyer was called for, and the sooner the better.

They went up the wide, curving staircase and wandered about the first floor, containing the main bedrooms, the gallery and the ballroom, followed by the caretaker who had arrived from nowhere and seemed to think it his duty to be in attendance. The bedchambers were dank and those hangings that remained smelled of damp. A mouse scurried along the wainscot and disappeared down a hole. ‘What on earth happened?’ he murmured.

‘Happened, my lord?’ Old Bennett was clearly agitated.

‘Oh, I do not expect you to know,’ Roland told him.

‘No, my lord, but it grieves me to see the old place like this. We are all glad to see you home. Amerleigh needs you.’

The man’s words brought home to him that he could not please himself, that there were others involved, servants and tenants and those in the village whose livelihood depended on the work they did, directly or indirectly, for the estate. How had they been managing? The thought that some of them had gone to Mandeville incensed him, especially if this desolation was any of Cartwright’s doing. No wonder his father had wanted revenge.

‘Seems to me, Major, you’re going to need some blunt,’ Travers said as they locked up and left to go back to the dower house.