Stephanie and the Wicked Deceiver (Wild Marchmonts #2)

14. Sedgewick Arrives

Chapter 14

Sedgewick Arrives

S ir Francis Sedgewick, on entering the ancient old hall of Reddingate, could not help overhearing an altercation from a gallery above. ‘They were here? And you did not inform me?’ Stephanie screamed in a voice quite unlike herself. He knew that she was not a child much given to tantrums.

‘After today’s shenanigans, Miss Stephanie, it is a wonder that…’

‘You forget yourself! I am mistress here!’ Stephanie was in a towering rage. An assumption of superiority was also not something Sedgewick had ever heard from the girl before.

‘And your Mama instructed me to…!’ said the Scottish voice, sounding angry, too. An old retainer, thought Sedgewick. Was it Morag, Lady Eleanor’s maid? He’d seen her a time or two. In loco parentis, then.

‘You had no right – no right at all – to deny me to my visitors.’

‘I am within a hair’s breadth of packing us up back to London,’ Morag shouted.

‘I will not go!’ screamed the girl.

‘You wanted to go back as soon as possible and, after what I saw today, don’t think I don’t know why you have changed your mind, my girl.’

‘Do not my girl , me, Morag McLeod…!’

Sir Francis coughed. Loudly.

A head appeared over the gallery rail. ‘Sir Francis! It is you!’ Stephanie said, delighted.

The plump maid followed her down the stairs more decorously and muttered, ‘There’s another one!’ with a sniff in his direction.

Stephanie took his arm when she reached him and went through a salon door that was being held open by a footman. Sir Francis whispered, ‘You seem out of sorts.’

‘Oh, Morag is being bossy, is all it is. I promised Mama that I would obey her, but she takes too much upon herself.’

‘You seem to have grown up in your solitude.’

‘I have had none. I made friends the first day.’

‘So I have heard from Naomi. The footpads’ story!’

‘Who could have thought your tutelage would come in useful quite so quickly?’ She laughed. ‘You would have been proud of me.’

‘I’m sure!’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘A few days shooting at Hardcastle, the Duke of Dorchester’s place, you know,’ Sedgewick explained.

‘I know. I have met him at Hedley Court – and his daughter.’

‘Lady Cressida is at Hardcastle?’ Sedgewick sounded somewhat disappointed. ‘Then where is…? Oh,’ he said, recollecting himself. ‘Never mind.’

‘It is lovely to have you, of course, but why are you here?’ Stephanie asked. This piece of frankness set Morag to ‘Tsk! Tsk’-ing in the background.

Sedgewick smiled. ‘I have letters!’

‘Oh good! How I miss them all.’

‘But I heard you say you did not wish to return to London.’

‘Because I will not be bullied to return. And besides, I have a task to complete.’ She seemed, thought Sedgewick, to be explaining herself , not a thing the little minx usually did. She added, ‘And Mama comes soon, anyway.’

‘After the presentations. I know.’ He did not pursue it, but he wondered what was causing the maid such concern.

‘I cannot speak long,’ Stephanie apologised. ‘I am afraid I am engaged to dine at the Court.’

‘With the earl?’

‘My friend Miss Galloway is there,’ she said to bank down his surprise.

‘I have sent a message to the Court, Miss Stephanie, that you have a visitor to dine,’ Morag said with a satisfied air from behind them. ‘They do not expect you.’

Stephanie’s rancour showed for a second but she turned a smiling face towards Sedgewick and said, ‘Yes, indeed! I should have thought of it.’

He smiled and thanked her, wondering at the subtext of it all.

Sir Francis passed a very pleasant evening, and left on his ride in the twilight, thinking somewhat. The dispute he had heard was one thing, but there was something else. In many ways Stephanie was much as she had been at Tremaine Towers and in London, but he had come here expecting her to be itching to return to her family. Instead, listening to her tales of Miss Galloway, Horace Pettigrew, Armitage and Fortescue, he surmised that she seemed content here. The earl, he reflected, narrowly missing a pothole as he rode, was strangely missing from her chatter.

But something was bothering the girl: a recent event, the subject of the dispute he had heard with her mother’s maid perhaps, was preoccupying her. Stephanie suddenly seemed more a young lady than a child; he could not say quite why he thought so but he did. Perhaps it was because, though she had never been a chatterbox, she had always told him what was on her mind like Berthe would do. This time she had not.

She had avoided such society as she could in London, going off, as he heard from his friend (and her brother-in-law) Eliot Marchmont, who made him laugh by retelling her adventures. Sedgewick approved the unusual mama who could permit her so much, and of the means she chose to mitigate any threat by employing the tiny Neapolitan.

But perhaps spending time with the society at Hedley, meeting the duke and his daughter, as well as such excellent gentlemen (by reputation, at least) as the earl, baron, baronet and Pettigrew, as well as the lady who stayed there of whom the girl had spoken warmly, had matured her a little. The society she had fallen into was the best and it had done her good, but something today had upset her. This he knew, as someone who had pressed a foil point to her neck, was hard to do.

Should he, in all honour, ride back to London tomorrow and report to Lady Eleanor, a woman who would not overreact? He would see the girl tomorrow and then decide.

Lady Cressida was in her chamber when Sedgewick arrived at Hardcastle. Her father, the duke, gave him a warm welcome and they sat over a brandy in a cosy little nook that was the duke’s own retreat. Thus Sedgewick was able to ask about Mrs Taunton.

The duke explained that she had taken up temporary residence in the village inn. ‘Oh, I must go and see her!’ said Sedgewick. ‘Does she stay there long?’

‘Only until Cressida leaves.’

‘It is unusual that your daughter visits at this Season.’

‘Bah! She has some scheme or other. But I admit that I wish she would go back to Town. There is too little for her to do at this gentleman’s retreat, and she is becoming a little restive because of it.’

And the gentleman’s retreat, thought Sedgewick, needed its mistress back. The duke was very affectionate towards Mrs Taunton and it was easy to see why; she was a lovely woman and a gracious hostess here at Hardcastle.

Over breakfast the next morning, Sedgewick finally met Cressida. She was welcoming but offhanded, adopting the rather patronising manner that slightly irked him every time he met her. She was very pretty, he supposed, but he had never been one of her suitors and she did not improve with acquaintance.

‘Papa expected you for dinner last evening, Sir Francis,’ she said now.

‘Oh, I stopped at Reddingate and ate with my friend Miss Marchmont.’

Cressida bristled. ‘You, too, know Miss Marchmont?’

‘I am close friends with her family. When they knew I came here, I was given letters to deliver.’

‘You dined with her alone? ’ Lady Cressida sneered.

‘Hardly alone! Have you met her Scottish maid Morag? The woman is her mother’s maid sent in loco parentis , I believe. Morag has known Stephanie from birth and provides a quite sufficient chaperonage for a dinner – together with half-a-dozen maids.’ Sedgewick laughed ironically but he was annoyed. A female’s reputation was a delicate thing.

‘Quite right! Your tone was objectionable, Cressida.’ The duke’s voice was cold and Sedgewick divined in it some genuine annoyance. ‘You will, of course, mention none of this conversation outside,’ he warned her.

‘So, you mean to see her again today,’ Cressida persisted to Sedgewick. ‘If she is not at Reddingate, you will likely find her at Hedley Court. She is often with the gentlemen there. I might accompany you.’

‘You will not go there, Cressida,’ her father intervened. ‘If you have too little to do here, you may return to London.’ Sedgewick divined it was an old subject between them.

‘But we have an invitation to the day of sport tomorrow!’ she protested petulantly.

‘Then practise here while you may. Sedgewick and I will take out a gun,’ the duke advised.

As they walked to their sport, he remarked to his friend, ‘Cressida has lived with her aunt too long and is not always mindful of her tongue. To be fair, she is too young to know the damage a loose remark might do. Miss Marchmont visits a lady who is at present residing at Hedley Court, a Miss Gertrude Galloway. She has made friends with the gentlemen staying there, I believe, but she is an innocent…’

‘Oh, you need not tell me,’ Sedgewick responded. ‘Stephanie is a fine sportswoman and she thinks of men more as sporting rivals than anything else. Her mother has not yet brought her out in London, you know, for she has no interest at all in balls.’

‘That’s it! She has no notion of eligible gentlemen or any such thing at the moment. Treats Hedley and the others like annoying brothers.’

‘I can imagine,’ Sedgewick laughed.

It did not often happen that Sir Rupert Armitage was proved wrong, and he was surprised and slightly irritated when he was, but Stephanie Marchmont had sent a message that she would not come to dinner that evening because she had a guest.

If Armitage did not take this well, the Earl of Hedley took it as a catastrophe when his friend casually informed him. ‘Morag will not let her come again!’ Hedley said to Miss Galloway. ‘She will take her back to London!’

‘Don’t make that out,’ said Horace Pettigrew, mildly surprised at Hedley’s tone. ‘She’s got a guest, you know!’

‘You told me she would come,’ Hedley protested to Gertrude, then turned to Armitage. ‘And you!’

Gertrude was so surprised at the usually suave earl’s crestfallen appearance, that she masked her amusement and said consolingly, ‘Morag said Stephanie would come, so there must indeed be a guest.’

‘Wilson, can you catch the messenger?’ Hedley asked.

‘I shouldn’t think so, my lord. It is now five minutes since he...’

‘Get a groom to catch him and enquire who the guest is.’

‘Hedley!’ said Fortescue with an amused eye on Sir Rupert. ‘That is hardly your concern.’

‘But not like you to pry, Max!’ said Pettigrew but was surprised by the face Hedley turned to him. ‘What is wrong with Hedley, Ben?’ he asked in a lowered voice to Lord Fortescue. ‘I seem to have upset him. ’Tis that thing they are not telling us, I think.’

Fortescue shook his head and spoke as though to a twelve-year-old. ‘Probably. Something else happened today, I feel.’

‘Mmm! Put him in a bad mood, whatever it was.’

Light conversation continued between the friends before and after dinner was announced, but the earl looked preoccupied and hardly answered the remarks that were addressed to him.

As they sat down to eat, a footman finally arrived. ‘The visitor at Reddingate is a baronet, my lord, by the name of Sedgewick, the footman believes.’

A plate rattled as Hedley’s fist dropped heavily on the table. He looked to Armitage with tragic eyes. ‘She’s dining alone with Francis Sedgewick .’

‘Hardly alone, Maximilian,’ laughed Gertrude. ‘The fierce Highlander is there, plus the wicked Italian groom and a flotilla of servants!’

Hedley ignored her. ‘Sedgewick!’ he continued to Armitage. He stood abruptly. ‘I must go there!’

‘What? To see Sedgewick?’ asked Pettigrew vaguely. ‘Good chap. I met him once. But no need to…’

Benjamin Fortescue said, ‘I’ll explain it all later, Horace.’

Armitage had risen at the same time and took advantage of Hedley’s moment of indecision before the earl bolted for Reddingate. He put a strong hand on Hedley’s shoulder and lowered him back to his seat, a feat that was only possible because the earl was in shock. Hedley looked up at him piteously. ‘Sedgewick!’

‘Is he very handsome?’ said Miss Galloway, enjoying herself.

‘What is that to the purpose? He is a good fellow, closest rival to Max in sporting accomplishments, you know, Gertrude,’ explained Horace Pettigrew kindly, ‘Max has the edge in most, but Sedgewick might beat you with a foil, eh, Max?’

‘Do not tempt him to find out.’ Fortescue shook his head at Pettigrew’s stupidity.

‘But is he handsome?’ Gertrude Galloway persisted.

‘Yes. And accomplished and charming…’ began Fortescue helpfully. He was also enjoying himself too, though Armitage was giving him his evil satyr look and still pressing on Hedley’s shoulder. ‘However, not quite so much as Max,’ Fortescue finished lamely.

Hedley put his palm on the top of his head as though it might come off. ‘ Sedgewick, Rupert. Sedgewick! ’

‘Yes, but you cannot go to Reddingate, Max,’ said Armitage soothingly. ‘All Gertrude’s good work with Morag today will be wasted, for you will reveal yourself as a danger to her charge if you do so.’

‘Danger? Max? Oh, that’s rich!’ said Horace Pettigrew jocularly. No one else seemed to share the joke and Fortescue looked at him pityingly.

Pettigrew, seeing this, realised something. ‘You know the thing, too, don’t you, Ben?’

‘Go back to your mutton, boy!’ Fortescue recommended.

‘I have not begun it. I have rather better manners than you, Ben, and I’m waiting for Max to eat first,’ said Pettigrew with dignity.

‘I wish you had thought of that when it came to my French brandy,’ remarked Hedley. It was the first remark he’d made all evening when he sounded like himself.

Armitage took his chair. Gertrude, with a wickedness she had not much displayed before, stirred the pot again. ‘I don’t suppose Sedgewick will be allowed to stay the night…’ she mused innocently.

‘Stay?’ said Hedley, jumping up again.

‘Why are you such a demmed jack-in-the-box this evening, Max?’ asked Horace. ‘Worried about Stephanie? I shouldn’t be. Sedgewick is good with the ladies, but she is not really a lady, is she?’ he scoffed, then thought better of it. ‘Looked nice in that silk, though! I was much surprised.’

Armitage, pressing the earl in his seat again, sent an evil glare at Gertrude Galloway, who ducked her head in feigned guilt. Armitage gave her a sardonic look and turned his attention to his badly disturbed friend. He would enjoy Hedley’s state at a later date; for now, he had to stop him from doing something stupid.

‘Sedgewick will certainly not be allowed to stay past dinner, I should say, and very likely spends the night at the inn or at Hardcastle.’

‘Does Sedgewick know the duke?’ asked Fortescue.

‘Probably. They are in the same club, I believe. Anyway,’ Armitage said, patting Hedley’s shoulder before he risked sitting again, ‘we should eat, for the dratted girl will rouse us tomorrow for our ride as usual.’

‘She’s not a dratted girl!’ said Pettigrew defensively.

‘I forgot you were newly her servant, Horace.’

‘Oh, why so?’ asked Gertrude.

‘That is not information you can be trusted with, Miss Galloway,’ Armitage admonished. ‘For I now see who you are at heart.’

She did not look repentant.

Hedley began to eat in a daze, and so the meal passed for him. After dinner Gertrude Galloway gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder as she said goodnight, and the gentlemen found it was necessary to get Hedley blind drunk to stop him riding to Reddingate, which he kept threatening to do. When his friends objected, he thought to ride to the village inn instead, or to Hardcastle, to check if Sedgewick was safely installed there.

Still unaware of its import, Horace laughed at this and accused Hedley of being too strict with Miss Marchmont, again saying that Sedgewick was a good fellow. Armitage and Fortescue merely kept the earl’s glass filled in an attempt to make him incapable of rash action.

It worked: Hedley fell asleep on the sofa. Armitage and the others went to bed, the baronet leaving instructions not to disturb the earl, just to give him a kick at five thirty so that he might wash and change before his ride.

Wilson allowed himself a snigger after the gentlemen left.

Hedley joined the others in the salon before the ride with only a semblance of calm, and it was not a minute before he started pacing. Armitage and Fortescue exchanged a look as Horace said, ‘What’s the matter with you, Max?’

‘Nothing!’

There was the usual altercation in the hall that indicated Stephanie’s arrival. Hedley came over to Sir Rupert and whispered, ‘ Sedgewick! Ask her about last night because I cannot.’ He left the room as she entered.

‘Good morning!’ Stephanie trilled. Her dour maid was trailing behind, more dour than usual. The girl looked back over her shoulder. ‘Hedley?’ she asked.

‘Anxious to ride,’ explained Fortescue.

‘I am not late, am I?’ Stephanie sounded confused.

They reassured her that she was not and set out for the stables. Frowning, Morag went to see Cook. At least she had looked her judgement on the earl, even if he had pretended to ignore her.

Hedley sat on a magnificent black stallion who was a trifle restive. Stephanie ran forward, delighted. ‘Oh, you bought a horse tall enough for you! He is wonderful.’

‘Stay back!’ said Hedley in warning.

‘Stephanie!’ called Armitage. He was genuinely worried, for Atlas could not be depended on with an unfamiliar personage so close. But although the beast stepped restively, Hedley controlled him and eventually Atlas let her approach and touch his nose.

‘Well,’ began Pettigrew, ‘Atlas has never permitted…’ Fortescue bumped him to shut his mouth.

‘You should not have come forward,’ Hedley scolded Stephanie. ‘He is very strong and not quite well behaved. He could have trampled you!’

‘Nonsense! After your last couple of rides, I knew you could hold him! You are much improved, you know!’ She looked up at him, eyes shining, and he felt the pang of deceit again. But he was not allowed to tell her…! Her mama had spoken.

She looked concerned and touched the restive horse’s neck. ‘It might be a challenge to ride him over the path we usually take since he does not know it.’

Hedley’s eyes were guilty and Armitage, seeing the earl lacked his usual suavity, came forward. He was also now mounted. ‘Yes, Max, I think you should practise little by little on this magnificent beast on the flat at first. Have Proudfoot saddled for today.’

‘But…!’ said Pettigrew.

‘Did you have a pleasant dinner with Sedgewick last evening?’ Sir Rupert enquired of Stephanie.

‘How did you know who dined with me?’

‘Oh, the footman told our groom, who told Rhodes.’

She smiled. ‘Who told you ?’

‘Yes.’

‘I suppose,’ broke in Hedley in a strained voice, ‘that it was very pleasant to see an old friend.’

‘What is wrong with you ?’ Stephanie demanded, surprised by his voice.

‘Yes, Max, what is wrong?’ joined in Horace Pettigrew. ‘You have been strange all morning … and last night.’

‘Come on, Horace,’ said Fortescue resignedly. ‘Let us ride ahead while Max gets another horse!’

‘Ben!’ protested Pettigrew.

‘Horace!’ said his lordship warningly.

‘Yes. Stephanie, we’ll ride ahead and you wait with Max.’ Armitage kicked off and left Hedley.

‘Well, won’t you get down?’ she enquired. ‘Or are you annoyed that Sir Rupert and I are so cautious?’

Hedley dismounted rather athletically, Stephanie thought. He nodded a groom to replace the horse but his face was closed.

‘Are you angry? I know that Morag’s scolding of you is my fault. I do not suppose the Earl of Hedley is much scolded anymore.’ She was attempting a jest, but it was not so natural as usual and Hedley knew she was concerned. ‘Do not mind it or be annoyed. I have scolded her back. Only forgive her, for she worries for my safety and I am a charge on her.’

‘I have not been much scolded these twenty years; it is true.’ He attempted to return the jest but sounded uneasy. ‘But of course I forgive her and I deserved it.’

‘What on earth do you mean?’

‘I am, after all, a gentleman alone with a young lady. I should not have been so. She was only thinking of the proprieties.’

‘Do not be absurd!’ Stephanie cried. She seemed annoyed – but also rather desperate – that their ease together was threatened. ‘There was Pietro.’ She nodded over her shoulder to the silent little groom. ‘We were not alone.’

‘Nevertheless, you are a lovely young lady and I am a man who should know better.’

‘Do not continue with these ridiculous words or it shall give me a disgust of you.’ She tried to laugh but she, too, was out of sorts. ‘I think you are offended, for you are very different today.’

‘No, but perhaps upset. I feared you might not be permitted to come again. And when you did not come to dinner, I was almost sure of it.’

‘Pooh! As if I would let Morag…!’ But there was something in Hedley’s honesty that made her blush.

He looked at her a moment before he said, ‘Did you enjoy your dinner with … Sedgewick ?’ He found he had difficulty pronouncing the name.

‘I did … but I would rather have come here,’ Stephanie said quickly. She said it without thinking and it was an honest response.

‘You would ?’ Hedley had the strongest desire to go close to her and put a hand on her arm, but he must not. She was wearing the dreadful bonnet and the dull gown again, but to him she looked irresistible.

That lovely, strange face that looked up at him disclosed something she might not even have been aware of with its slightly anxious expression. It made him think suddenly: what if he could encourage her to express something to him? He would not then be breaking Lady Eleanor’s prohibition, would he?

He was being pathetic, he realised.

‘Yes,’ she continued, still anxious at his manner, ‘because we had parted so ill, and I wanted to apologise and…’

‘Re-establish our visiting pattern?’

‘That is it! To disoblige Morag and to assuage you…!’

‘I was very upset,’ he acknowledged. This admission did not violate the spirit of the oath, did it?

‘I know! And to be found in that absurd position…!’ She giggled a little.

‘All your fault. You shocked me greatly!’

He watched her blush. You begin to feel it too , Stephanie, he thought desperately. Say something, like the blunt, honest girl you are ! But she did not; it seemed that she was still adorably confused.

The groom led out Sally, they mounted and walked the horses; perhaps Stephanie was also loath to end their talk.

‘So, Sedgewick was amusing last night?’ Hedley reiterated in masochistic enquiry.

‘He always is!’ Stephanie replied more naturally. ‘I told you that he is my fencing tutor. He showed me some more passes last evening after dinner, and Morag could say nothing for he had my mother’s permission to teach me. But we had only one foil, so I could only watch.’

‘After dinner?’ asked the earl, the red mist descending once more. ‘He stayed?’

‘Oh no! How could he? Even I know that would be quite shocking. He is at Hardcastle with the duke.’

The mist ascended somewhat but Hedley was still concerned. He tried for flippancy. ‘Perhaps he will stay and make a match of it with Lady Cressida.’ He watched Stephanie for signs of jealousy.

‘Oh, I shouldn’t think she is his type of female,’ she said.

It was and off-hand remark but still left Hedley an inch for concern. Did she believe that she herself was more the rake’s type? Dangerously close to the edge of his oath, he said, ‘I am glad you wanted to come to us last night. We missed you.’

Again, the conscious look. ‘Poor Gertrude. She always says she misses a female when I am not present.’

‘Ah yes, for the embroidery talk!’ laughed Hedley.

‘I may not talk of embroidery, but females are more sensible than males – though Rich says I am more male than female.’

‘Ah, but he is your brother. You may be more male in your pursuits, but you are…’ he was on dangerous ground again ‘…not male.’

‘No, I belong to the superior sex.’ Stephanie laughed and said as though she had just remembered, ‘I invited Sedgewick to your day of sport. I hope you do not mind, but since the duke is to come…!’

Hedley rode on before her, his temper in shreds. He was, he reminded himself, a rational man: urbane, most would say sophisticated. Thus, he watched the world a little sardonically like his friend Rupert, and his emotions barely fluctuated no matter what presented itself. But these last days he had been losing control.

In the past he had looked on at other idiots in love behaving ridiculously, making public scenes like Lady Caroline Lamb, displaying jealousy, longing or unfettered joy at public events, arguing passionately in the park – even, in one case, killing a rival in a duel and leaving the country as a result. Hedley had watched such behaviour with disbelief and derision; these people had too little self-control and no class whatsoever.

But now he understood because he was being run by a tide of emotion and he had little control. His petulant response in riding ahead to Stephanie inviting Sedgewick was counter-productive and childish, and he knew it. His despair at the thought of the rakish baronet having dinner with his beloved had literally floored him last night. He had imagined a hundred horrible scenarios. Armitage had openly laughed at him and he did not blame him; Hedley knew he was being ridiculous.

But she, this girl who looked at him so intimately right now and whom he very much wished to be reconciled to, was his – and he was forbidden to claim her. Meanwhile Sedgewick, clever handsome Sedgewick, as close to a sporting rival as Hedley had in England, had arrived. And Stephanie Marchmont liked him, as a friend, obviously, but she had thought of Hedley in the same way for the past days. It was what he had found refreshing at first but now, unwittingly, he had let her step close to his heart.

She was beginning to wake up to him, was she not? Hedley thought that there had been a moment the previous day when she was on his back, laughing, when they had both been aware of the difference in their nearness. He, of course, had been overtaken by raw desire, but even she…! They had both been still and conscious for some moments, just feeling, he believed – and then Morag had come.

Stephanie’s anxiety to please him today, which was never generally at the forefront of their interactions, arose from this and from Morag’s scold. The girl also wanted to reassure herself of their continued intimacy, but he was behaving like a cad, a moody brat.

Catching up to his party, he said, ‘Help me!’ in an under breath to Armitage. Rupert grinned, but then he asked Stephanie to regard Pettigrew’s hands: did she think him improved?

This drove Stephanie to Horace’s side and she issued instructions that he, as her newly fashioned chattel, tried hard not to resent.

He needed to get through this ride with a semblance of normality, Hedley thought, and he could deal with other things tomorrow. Including seeing Sedgewick without killing him.