Stephanie and the Wicked Deceiver (Wild Marchmonts #2)

7. Miss Galloways Judgement

Chapter 7

Miss Galloway's Judgement

O nce the riding party had left, Gertrude stopped Morag from going below stairs for refreshment and asked her instead to sit a little, which the maid consented to do – though she sat upright on the edge of a chair she pulled over from the wall herself, rather than the sofa opposite Miss Galloway that Gertrude had indicated.

‘Your charge is quite delightful, eh…’

‘Morag, Miss Galloway. Delightful, but a handful, as you have witnessed, ma’am.’

Gertrude could see that the maid had surprised herself by saying so much but she was used to that; her face invited confidences.

‘The thing is,’ Morag leaned forward a little, ‘do not think too ill of her manners, miss. She may seem like a young lady, but she has not realised it herself. She reacts as a child. See how she behaves towards the gentlemen!’ She sighed. ‘She does not see them as men at all but as play companions.’

‘I could see that. I found it utterly charming.’ Gertrude’s eyes narrowed at the expression on the old maid’s face. ‘I have known these gentlemen for many years, Morag, and I trust them.’

‘I knew the old earl myself, ma’am, and I must admit that consoled me a little when the acquaintance was made. But gentlemen, if you do not mind me saying, do not always beget gentlemen.’

This was a shocking statement from a maid but Gertrude liked the woman’s Scottish directness. ‘I assure you that the earl is cut in his father’s mould. And the others – well, they are scamps and perhaps a little worse when in London, but they all know how to treat a child, and even more so an unmarried young lady.’

Morag eyed her narrowly. ‘I appreciate you saying so much to nought but a servant, ma’am, but I do not know how much reassured I am. You look a touch naive yourself, if you don’t mind my saying.’

‘Now, Morag,’ Gertrude chided, ‘you at least should understand that being a forty-five-year-old spinster does not make one blind . I have seen a great many people in my life, and I trust these men above most. Even given the opportunity to impose on Miss Marchmont, which neither of us nor her strange little Italian servant will allow, they would obey the rules of chivalry above those of self-interest.’

Morag looked a little relieved. ‘I am glad to hear you say so, miss. I too have seen a little in life and, while they look like a brood of unruly cubs to me, they seem well-bred at least.’

Gertrude giggled at this. Morag stood, dropped a curtsy, and left. The butler himself led the maid downstairs. ‘You take much upon yourself!’ he remarked laconically.

‘It is needed – you’ve seen her! Enough to give a woman a headache.’

‘I’m surprised the young lady was sent here alone.’

‘ Alone is the punishment meant to curb her excesses next time. Who would have known she would meet a pack of hounds in her first hour here?’

The butler sniffed, though he did not correct her. ‘And now she plays here every day.’

‘Ah well, she’s used to being part of a pack, you know.’ Morag sighed again, ‘But these are new dogs. They might bite.’

‘Not they!’ said the butler, stopping one step below her on the kitchen stairs. His remark was meant to be somewhat soothing, though said in an offhand manner. Morag, reassured for the second time that day, began to feel less worried.

Hedley and the crew returned to find Miss Galloway at her needlework, something bulky in canvas, perhaps a fire screen or a chair cover done in wool.

They entered the salon having stopped only to scrape their boots. When Armitage sat on a sofa and crossed his legs, the fluffy grey cat arrived in his arms with magical rapidity. Pettigrew sat beside him and Fortescue stood behind them, resting on the back of the elegant, scrolled wood of the sofa frame.

Hedley sprawled opposite, apparently nonchalant, one leg resting on the sofa, one arm across the back, ‘Well?’ he said negligently.

Gertrude was not quite convinced by his display of unconcern and it gave her pause. Nevertheless, she gave her earlier conclusion. ‘I will not lie to the young lady nor to her maid, but at present I undertake not to offer extra information. I do this mostly because I can see that the girl is not interested in any of you as romantic figures, and I trust that none of you will seek to change this. If I should see a danger to her, I shall instantly tell her that the earl is a Nonpareil, and that all of you have merely jested with her. I hope that instead of this cruel blow being delivered by me, you will discuss the best way to break it to her so as to make it only an amusing diversion rather than a cruel deception.’

Hedley found himself able to breathe again. ‘Thank you, dear lady. That may take some time, but I will endeavour that it happens at an appropriate moment.’

‘The only reason that I do not end this today is that it offers the girl amusement. Her maid informs me that Miss Marchmont is most liable to get into mischief when she has nothing to occupy her. At least you provide distraction for her. But you must all behave like gentlemen.’

‘Distraction! It is her distraction to torture me,’ complained Horace Pettigrew petulantly. ‘I assure you, we are more at risk from Miss Marchmont than she is from us!’

‘I expect that you deserve it,’ said Gertrude dryly.

‘Indeed, ma’am,’ drawled Armitage, his suavity a trifle impinged by the cat’s decision to climb on his shoulder and lick his ear. Firm but gentle hands put the miscreant back on his lap. ‘We bow, all four, to your wisdom. We think – most of us – of Miss Marchmont only as a remarkable child. You need not fear for her. She is generally equipped with a crop, remember. I care too much for my handsome face to risk it.’

Gertrude laughed.

‘And I!’ said Fortescue.

‘If only you had a handsome face!’ jibed Pettigrew.

‘Well, it is decided, then. We shall continue my course of instruction,’ Hedley concluded. He sat up, feet once more on the ground, and crossed his legs.

Gertrude Galloway regarded him: his display of nonchalance had relaxed to mere quietude. She thought of Sir Rupert Franks’ words: ‘most of us’. Most of them thought of Miss Marchmont as a child; it seemed apparent to Gertrude which of them was excluded from this description. This was somewhat dangerous, she knew. She would continue to monitor the situation in her new role as chaperone.

Hedley went up to change from one of Horace’s ridiculous ill-fitting coats feeling overwhelming relief. He knew that this was unbecoming if all the reassurances he had given Miss Galloway were true, but he was, unusually for him, confused. Miss Stephanie Marchmont was clearly just an amusing child, so why had he then awaited Miss Galloway’s judgement with what amounted to dread? He would have abided by it if she had concluded that there was risk to the girl, but now he realised that this would have been a blow much harder than he could explain to himself.

And even today, he was contemplating doing something that was questionable: he was to meet Miss Marchmont for a fencing lesson. No doubt her thuggish Italian shadow would accompany her (along with his pistol), but Hedley had already failed to mention this to his friends. He wanted to have fewer observers, he realised, or perhaps rivals for her attention. Even Stephanie’s childish interactions with Pettigrew annoyed him somewhat; Hedley liked her green eyes on him alone.

Putting on his own coat, he looked at himself in the mirror. Despicable, he thought, but at times it was too delicious to share her. Her care for him was paramount in this enjoyment: she so wanted him to do well, to become more manly under her instruction, and she did not see the irony in this at all. Her green eyes and her long red curls no longer reminded him that she was a child but suggested instead an intimacy that he had never had with a woman in this precise way. He had never lied to Stephanie in word but he certainly had in deed, and he felt it. Would his charming little friend despise him later when she found out?

His conscience pricked him; though he was confused, he was beginning to understand that there must be only one outcome to this. The presence of Gertrude Galloway, which he had considered a masterstroke in protecting his game, now served to remind him of his duties and had only revealed more of his own feelings.

‘Brumby,’ he said harshly, ‘pack for me. I start for London on the morrow. Just enough for a night or two.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

Armitage had followed Hedley into his room. ‘You cared too much about Miss Galloway’s sentence, did you not?’ Hedley nodded. ‘And so you visit her mother? Do you wish me to go with you?’

‘If you wish.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I am sure that my stupid desire for amusement has passed the stage of danger. I owe it to her.’

‘She might not have you.’

‘I am aware that she has no such notion. Nevertheless, I must inform her family at least that I—’

‘You…?’ Armitage prompted ironically.

‘That I have taken advantage for my own amusement, but that … that…’

‘We should work out your speech on the journey. I should like to be there to hear it. It is the most confounded situation.’

Hedley met Stephanie under the ancient old oak where she was standing in the plain blue dress, having discarded the dreadful bonnet and cape on the ground. She looked so strangely beautiful with her green eyes and her long red curls, and she smiled at him in a business-like way.

He bowed his head formally and took off his jacket, revealing a waistcoat and a shirt with full fine-linen sleeves. He was silent and solemn, and she seemed to try for a word. ‘Your coat is rather nicer today,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ he replied, still serious. He took up his foil and saluted.

‘Ho!’ she said, responding cheerfully to his air of business. ‘Advance,’ she told him.

He did so and she had to scramble to keep up with his swiftness, then she found her foot, parried well and advanced a little herself. She again attempted a disarm with Francis Sedgewick’s trick but Hedley prevented her.

‘Oh, well done!’ she praised him, but he came forward, grim faced and unremitting and drove her back. She was surprised and wrong footed but did her best to recover.

She was good but he was better, and he circled her hilt with the tip of his foil to attempt the forced flip that would disarm her. It took her utterly by surprise. ‘How…?’ she began, but his mood was broken and he let her beat him back before eventually signalling his desire to stop.

‘Well, I can hardly believe it!’ she cried, excited and happy. ‘You started so sure footed and well! You were almost a different man.’

She was so pleased with him and with herself as instructress that his grim mood was dented somewhat. He gave a quick smile then became serious again.

‘Are you quite alright, Hedley?’ she asked. ‘You seem different.’

‘I’m afraid I must go to London tomorrow, Miss Marchmont. However, even if you do not instruct me, I am quite sure my friends would like you to ride with them tomorrow.

She looked a little sad but only fleetingly. It was enough for Hedley to keep to his resolution, however. ‘Well, perhaps I shall. It is livelier to ride as a group. When shall you return, my lord?’

The green eyes looked up at him and Hedley felt smirched. She trusted him and he had turned his brave little heroine into a figure of fun. ‘Quite quickly, I believe. A few days only.’

‘Oh, good!’ she enthused. ‘Then we can continue our lessons. Both your riding and fencing are much improved, I assure you. You are a model student. I am surprised that Sir Rupert has not helped you in the saddle before. He has an excellent seat.’

‘He did not see the need.’

‘He was protecting your feelings, I suppose. I think Sir Rupert is rather nicer than his devilish face.’

‘He is!’ said Hedley. Then despised himself for adding, ‘Do you admire him?’

‘Admire? What a strange way to put it. But I suppose I do admire him rather. He has wit much beyond me and a manly seat in the saddle. He is what my brother Richard would call a “sound egg”.’

‘And I?’ he despised himself even more. ‘Am I a sound egg?’

‘You are very gentleman-like and have the makings, I believe, of a great man.’ She gave him that hearty pat on the back that she had perfected.

He turned fully to her. ‘And you are a lovely young woman.’

She frowned at this then pushed the heel of her hand into his shoulder as a friendly assault. ‘You are absurd, Hedley. Stop teasing! I must get back so that Morag does not know I am gone.’ She mounted Emperor and smiled down at him. ‘Miss Galloway has invited me to dinner. See you later.’

Hedley saw the small Italian look at him evilly and said, ‘I’ll see her mother in Town.’

The man nodded, as though to gesture this might just save Hedley’s life. He raised a brow at the man’s insolence, but the dreadful Italian was a reassuring presence for Hedley: he would protect the little one from any blackguard – such as Hedley himself.