The Disgraced Marchioness. Anne O'Brien

him.’

      ‘I am not convinced, in spite of the evidence to the contrary.’ Lord Henry tossed back the port as if he needed it and poured another glass. ‘Let us start from the opposite premise. That the claim is false. Consider this. If the whole venture is nothing but a deliberate trickery, a charade, why would they embark on such a risky enterprise in the full view of the haut ton? If they fail, and so are unmasked as frauds, the result will be a disaster for them. So what motives would they have to risk all on the turn of a card?’

      ‘Money!’ Nicholas stated without hesitation.

      ‘Social consequence?’ Eleanor suggested.

      ‘The title!’ Mrs Stamford added in flat tones.

      ‘Money would seem to me to be the strongest motivation.’ Henry cast himself into the chair opposite his brother. ‘I wonder about the financial circumstances of the Baxendales.’

      ‘An easy enough matter to discover, surely?’ Nicholas lifted his brows.

      ‘Do you believe,’ Eleanor asked, considering a matter that had worried her since the first meeting at Burford Hall, ‘that Miss Baxendale is strong enough to have stood against her brother if he wanted her to reveal her marriage to the world? Sir Edward said that she refused to do so when Thomas contracted to marry me, in spite of his persuasion to the contrary. Do you really believe it? She seems so biddable.’

      ‘She might. If she loved my brother enough.’ Henry acknowledged the point. ‘But she is certainly not made of stern stuff. I think that we should get to know Miss Baxendale a little better. And perhaps without the presence of her more forceful brother. There is a role for you, Eleanor! You will not like it, I dare say, but I think you should further your acquaintance with Octavia.’

      ‘But she is in black gloves.’ Mrs Stamford pushed herself to the edge of her seat in horror. ‘It is not yet six months since dear Thomas died. It is not fitting that Eleanor start going about in society. What will people say? I cannot condone a plan of action which would result in the Marchioness of Burford being considered fast. How can you suggest it?’ Her eyes locked with Lord Henry’s in accusation. ‘I suppose that such casual ways are acceptable in New York …’ she sniffed ‘…but they are not considered respectable in London!’

      Henry turned his glittering gaze on Mrs Stamford without compunction. ‘I both can and will suggest it. And I will suggest even more outrageous action. I think that you, Eleanor, should put off your full mourning and begin to go about a little. There is no hint of scandal yet, but there will be, and without doubt it will take the Polite World by storm. It is too salacious a story to keep quiet.’ His lips thinned at the disagreeable prospect. ‘We shall soon find that we are living our lives under full public scrutiny and, however unpleasant, I think we must not be seen to be in hiding over this matter. We should go about as normal, make no comment, presume that Eleanor is without question the Marchioness of Burford, and I think that you should try for an intimate relationship with the fair Octavia. If she wishes to confide her troubles, you should be available with a sympathetic ear! I am not asking your daughter to attend a full dress ball!’ he informed Eleanor’s outraged parent. ‘Merely to show herself and the child in public a little and pay some private visits.’

      ‘That should be an interesting development!’ For the first time that day, Eleanor managed a faint smile, appreciative of the plan. ‘It is better to be active than afraid. I will do it.’ Sipping the port, which restored colour to her ashen cheeks, she signalled her agreement. ‘We should go about as if nothing were amiss. And I will put off my mourning.’ She frowned as her mama prepared to interrupt. ‘Better to be fast than a pawn at the whim of Sir Edward Baxendale.’

      ‘Good.’ Lord Henry had to admit to some relief. And a quiet satisfaction at the success of his scheming, which had effectively removed the stricken look from Eleanor’s eyes. Action, as she had observed, would take her mind from the anguish of her situation. Besides, Eleanor’s involvement would be all-important to the ultimate success of their campaign. ‘And it will give the interested something to consider when the gossips turn their attention to the Faringdon Scandal.’

      ‘What do we say if we are asked why we are not putting up at Faringdon House?’ Mrs Stamford enquired, still unwilling to capitulate. ‘It will be sure to cause comment.’

      ‘Say that it is no one’s affair but our own!’ Exasperation cloaked his lordship, a heavy cloud. ‘Say that redecoration is being undertaken—if anyone has the temerity to question a Faringdon on so personal an issue. That the noise and dust is too much for a young child. And since I am returned to London and have hired a house for the Season, I have put it at your disposal. Leave the Baxendales to make their own comments on the situation. If we remain calm and confident, the speculators will not know what to believe.’

      Which, Eleanor thought, appeared to be his answer to every difficulty that arose. She could not help but be impressed, and terrified, as she found herself suddenly embroiled in little less than a form of war strategy. She felt a twinge of sympathy for Napoleon when faced with the determination of the Duke of Wellington at the Battle of Waterloo. Lord Henry appeared to have a very similar approach to such matters. Arrogance and a gift for detailed strategy.

      ‘Meanwhile—’ Henry had not finished but directed his keen gaze on his brother ‘—you, Nick, can visit the gentleman’s clubs, starting with St James’s Street. Find out where, if any, Sir Edward is a member. See if you can discover whether he gambles heavily. And, most particularly, if he is in debt.’

      ‘Thank you, Hal! And how do you suggest that I discover such sensitive information?’ Nicholas finished off the rest of the port in his glass and rose to his feet.

      ‘Use your initiative, Nick. I am sure you can encourage the gossips.’

      ‘Very well.’ He walked to the door. ‘I had better change into something suitable for such esteemed company as the Bow Window Set at White’s. Not how I would have chosen to spend the day, but I will do my poor best. Perhaps I will look up Kingstone—he usually has his fingers on the pulse and is not beyond a heavy wager himself. And is never at a loss for the on dit of the moment.’

      ‘I wish you well. Let us hope that our own situation does not reach his ears any time soon!’ Henry grimaced at the prospect as Nicholas raised his hand in acknowledgement of the comment and made his exit with reluctant intent. ‘Meanwhile you and I, Eleanor, and you too if you wish it, ma’am …’he glanced towards Mrs Stamford ‘… are going to pay an afternoon visit on Cousin Judith.’

      ‘Lady Painscastle? What has she to do with this fiasco? The fewer people to know, the better, I would have thought!’ Once again, Mrs Stamford frowned her objections.

      ‘You must know Judith well enough to appreciate the advantage of having her as a member of this family,’ his lordship replied again with commendable but hard-won patience. ‘Her social life is hectic, I remember, and little passes her keen eye or ear, unless she has changed beyond recognition since I saw her last. It seems to me that Octavia must have come out in the spring of 1812. If my memory serves me well, so did Judith. I have no recollection of Octavia at any of the Season’s main events, but Judith might. Thomas and I squired her to any number of incredibly tedious parties, balls and soirées when she was intent on fixing her interest with Simon Painscastle. Perhaps she will remember Miss Baxendale making her formal curtsy to society. And, more to the point, if there was any obvious close relationship developing between Thomas and the lady. Judith, I believe, is quite our best source of gossip.’

      ‘An excellent idea.’ Mrs Stamford’s face brightened as she saw the value of the connection and so allowed a complete volte-face. ‘Lady Painscastle is a lively and eminently sensible young woman. She might indeed have noticed something between the pair—which you did not.’ Thus Mrs Stamford damning the inadequacy of the whole male race.

      ‘Do you agree, my lady?’ Henry took the empty glass from Eleanor’s hand, noting the return of colour to her face. ‘It might be a painful encounter.’

      ‘It might.’ She stood