Mary Brendan – The Virtuous Courtesan (страница 4)
‘Does Miss Marchant have adequate private means or was she wholly dependent on my brother?’
‘I’m not sure, sir,’ Joseph answered with a frown. ‘But I’ve always imagined her relationship with Mr Edward Stone was borne of necessity,’ he added a mite too truthfully.
Gavin’s cynical expression became more pronounced. ‘Has she family hereabouts who might help her?’ He didn’t want it on his conscience that the chit might end up in the workhouse.
‘I’ve not heard of any kith or kin. She has a couple of loyal old retainers who came from London with her. Due to the…
‘How long ago?’ Gavin asked. He had judged her to be of tender age and had deduced that Edward must have quite recently taken up with her. Or perhaps she was blessed with more youthful looks than her years warranted.
Joseph sucked his teeth as he made a mental calculation. ‘Oh, I should say it all started about three or four years ago now.’ He gave Gavin a shrewd glance. The fellow’s anger seemed to have been overtaken by a growing interest in Miss Marchant. ‘Her young age gave rise to the worst of the chatter. But a lot of females are wed before they turn sixteen. And Sarah Marchant had already reached that very age by all accounts.’
Gavin’s expression barely changed. But a sweeping look arced up and over the ceiling, displaying his disgust at what he’d just heard. Gavin had not bedded a woman that young since he was a teenager himself. But what really rankled was Edward’s hypocrisy. His brother had readily given him the mantle of black sheep of the family despite having seduced a girl barely out of the schoolroom. The fact that Miss Marchant looked delectable enough to tempt a saint was hardly an excuse for such behaviour.
‘Where does she presently reside?’ Gavin asked abruptly.
‘At Elm Lodge. It is one of the properties you now own, or will own if…’ Joseph’s voice faded and he gestured pointedly at the document in front of him. ‘The Lodge is situated on the edge of the Willowdene estate by the woods.’ After a few silent moments, when it seemed Gavin had plunged deep into thought, Joseph probed, ‘It is almost a half-past three. Will you journey back to London today?’
Gavin cast a frown at the clock. He had quite forgotten that it had been his intention to rush back to Mayfair. It was now unthinkable to head home without seeing Sarah Marchant again. The need to stay was not just to do with securing his inheritance, though he needed the money. A quite vulgar curiosity about her was bedevilling him. He wanted to find out more about her; especially why she had slept with his dull brother to earn her keep.
‘As you say,’ he replied coolly, ‘it is sensible that a solution of sorts be found. I shall remain at the Red Lion tonight and will contact you again regarding this vexing matter.’
‘Why do you not stay at Willowdene Manor?’ Joseph asked quickly as Gavin made to exit the room. ‘I do not think any risk of infection lingers,’ he reassured him. ‘Edward was interred immediately and none of the staff succumbed.’
‘It is not that. I’d sooner stay at the Red Lion as my time here is to be brief.’ The excuse was valid, but only part of the reason for staying away from his brother’s home. Gavin anticipated many questions from the staff at The Manor. Quite rightly they would be concerned for their jobs and pay until a new master took over and things were back to normal. At the moment he had no answers to give them. With a brusque nod for the lawyer, he ducked beneath the low beam and quit the room.
From the window Joseph Pratt watched the tall figure of Gavin Stone striding away. He noticed that minx Molly from the Red Lion giving him quite a bold smile and calling out to him before huddling, giggling, against her friend. Both girls turned to ogle as he strode past.
Joseph felt a prickle of envy. Gavin Stone was too damned handsome for his own good. That irritation apart, he oddly felt a sense of unease at what had occurred in his office this afternoon. He had relished the drama, but he certainly did not relish the possible outcome. Apart from other considerations, it would do his professional reputation no good. It might be construed that the Stone inheritance had been snatched away by the Crown because his good advice had been lacking rather than his late client’s benevolence.
He had no real desire to see Gavin’s fortune in jeopardy or Sarah made homeless. But then Joseph was sure, once her pride had been salved, that the young woman would come to her senses. It was a shame her lover had died, but unfortunate things occurred in life. Kept women were usually of a practical nature and accepted they must transfer their affections from time to time.
Miss Marchant had always seemed to him pleasant and polite and, of course, like any man, he could not fail to be smitten by her loveliness. In fact, he thought with a flash of inspiration, should Gavin Stone have spoiled his chances by being rude to her, perhaps a humble solicitor might wangle his way into favour. More modest terms would need to be negotiated, of course. But he could run to a small cottage and a stocked larder. Joseph turned from the window, grinning. And if he did take a beautiful young mistress it was no more than that cheating harlot, Mrs Rosamund Pratt, deserved!
Sarah sank onto the bale of hay and let the tears flow. Hateful man! Hateful man! The phrase flew back and forth in her agitated mind before bursting through small pearly teeth. But to which gentleman that insult was directed she could not have said: the smarmy lawyer, the mean lover, the insolent stranger—all deserved the epithet, and more besides.
A handkerchief was snatched from her reticule and held to her wet eyes. Had she not known Edward Stone’s true character at all? How could he have acted so horridly? Eddie had not kept her in luxury, but neither had he been cruelly parsimonious. She had not gone without basic necessities. Now it seemed that to keep a roof over her head and bread on her plate she must apologise to his wastrel brother and then attempt to seduce him. The very idea made a sob of hysterical laughter choke her. She would rather… Her angry thoughts ebbed and stilled. What would she rather? Face destitution? Would she see Aunt Bea and Timothy starve?
Sarah felt a chill creep over her. It was unthinkable.
She wrung the little handkerchief in her fingers, until a ripping sound made her stop and push it back whence it came. Slender fingers smeared away the last of the tears on her cheeks and she gulped a calming breath. What was she to do? Even if she eventually managed to subdue her misgivings and pride enough to solicit Gavin Stone’s protection, he had made it clear he didn’t want her. In fact, he had made it clear that she disgusted him. He had even had the nerve to suggest that she might have plotted with Eddie to trap him. She had done no such thing but, in truth, she did regret having let the swine rile her. She had said things that were most unwise given her circumstances. Yet the greatest pity of it all was that her memory of Edward was now spoiled by a wrangle over his money.
She had been bitterly disappointed at not receiving the things she had wanted—Elm Lodge, an annuity of her own—but perhaps she had been hopelessly optimistic in thinking they might come to her. She had not been Edward’s wife, neither had she been his only lover.
Edward had been quickly buried to allay fears of infection. Sarah had stayed away from the formal service and paid her respects privately, when the townspeople had gone from the graveside, but the other woman who had shared Edward’s life had been there.
Christine Beauvoir had been accepted at the interment despite everybody knowing that she had been Edward’s mistress for a long time. Her widow status conferred on her a certain respectability.
Yet she had been absent from the solicitor’s office today. Her name had not been mentioned in Edward’s will. Sarah knew the widow had her own property and income. She could only guess that Eddie had thought Christine had no need of any financial help from him on his demise.
A dejected grimace twisted her soft mouth. She was not so lucky. She must gratefully take the provision Eddie intended her to have. That conclusion brought her to a bitter truth: a suitable agreement with Gavin Stone must be reached. But she would not sleep with him. She had seen disgust in his eyes when he looked upon her face. How much more repulsive would she be to him when he first saw her naked in his bed?
Abruptly she gained her feet and began to pace to and fro, her full, soft lips compressed and her white brow puckered in concentration.
It was as Sarah was marching back and forth behind the tumbledown barn on the edge of town that Gavin caught sight of her. It was a mere glimpse of pale curls that first arrested his attention. A few moments later he spotted a swirl of grey skirt as she changed direction.