Regency Christmas Vows. Anne Herries

at matters in the cold light of day, he was both stunned and disconcerted by his violent reaction to the gossip he had heard. As Greville had said, he needed to analyse why he had responded so furiously and the answer was not far to seek. Although he had not previously acknowledged it, his feelings for Sarah Sheridan ran very deep indeed. The knowledge was a shock on one level, but on another he was obliged to admit that he had known it from the first. The fact that he had known her such a short time was irrelevant to his feelings. And now he had made the most godforsaken mess of the whole business…He groaned again.

      Greville was eyeing him with concern. ‘I’ll ring for an ice bag,’ he said, getting up. ‘And, Guy, have a shave before you go out. It won’t help your cause to arrive in Brock Street looking half cut!’

      The house in Brock Street was shuttered and it seemed to take an inordinate amount of time before Chisholm answered the bell. Nor was his demeanour particularly encouraging when he did so, for there was a look in his eye that seemed to imply that they should be using the tradesmen’s entrance.

      ‘Good day, Lord Renshaw. Good day, Sir Greville. May I be of service?’

      Guy and Greville waited to be allowed over the threshold, but Chisholm remained obdurately in the way. Greville raised his eyebrows.

      ‘Good day, Chisholm. Is Lady Amelia receiving visitors? Pray tell her that we have called!’

      Chisholm folded his lips into a thin line. His stance seemed to suggest that such good humour was sorely misplaced.

      ‘I regret to inform you, sir, that Lady Amelia has left town.’

      There was a pause. Guy stepped forward. ‘And Miss Sheridan? Is she at home?’

      Chisholm’s gaze seemed to turn even more glacial. ‘I fear not, my lord. However, her ladyship asked me to give Sir Greville the following message.’ He cleared his throat and avoided looking directly at either of them. ‘Her ladyship wishes it to be known that she has gone to the country with her cousin. Further, whilst you are still welcome to visit here, Sir Greville, the same invitation does not extend to your friends. Good day, sir.’

      Chisholm bowed neatly, stepped back and closed the door firmly.

      Both Guy and Greville stared at the wooden panels in stupefaction, then Greville took a hasty step forward and reached for the bell again. Guy laid a hand on his arm.

      ‘Grev! Wait!’

      Guy did not think he had ever seen his friend so angry. Greville’s grey eyes were burning with fury. ‘How dare he say such things! The confounded impertinence of the man! Why, I’ll—’

      ‘He is only doing as he was instructed,’ Guy pointed out quietly. ‘Come away, Grev. There are people watching.’

      It was true. Several curious passers-by, including the ubiquitous Mrs Clarke, were occupying the pavement at the bottom of the steps.

      ‘Oh, Sir Greville!’ that lady trilled, stepping forward to block their way. ‘Lord Renshaw! Have you heard the news? Lady Amelia has gone to Blanchland with her cousin! I can scarce believe it, but it must be true for Mrs Bunton heard it from Lady Trippeny, who—’

      Greville set his shoulders. He gave the gossip a look of comprehensive dislike. ‘It is perfectly true, Mrs Clarke, but of no great import! Miss Sheridan has been called to Blanchland on an urgent family matter and her cousin has gone with her as chaperon! That is all! And I do beg you to remember that, before you indulge in idle speculation about the lady who is shortly to become my wife! Why, I shall be joining her at Blanchland shortly myself!’

      Mrs Clarke’s mouth rounded in astonishment. ‘Oh, Sir Greville! And, Lord Renshaw—’ she swung round on Guy accusingly ‘—were you aware of this?’

      Guy tried not to laugh. ‘Which part, Mrs Clarke? The bit about Lady Amelia chaperoning her cousin to Blanchland, or the part about Sir Greville being betrothed to Lady Amelia and joining her at Blanchland tomorrow? Or even…’ his smile broadened ‘…the fact that I am shortly to announce my own engagement to Miss Sheridan? Yes, I am aware of all of it!’

      Mrs Clarke backed away from them, almost tripping over the kerb in her haste to escape and acquaint Mrs Bunton with her news. The two men nodded amiably to the rest of the crowd and strolled off down Brock Street with every appearance of nonchalance.

      ‘I cannot believe we just did that,’ Guy said under his breath, as they turned into The Circus and paused for a moment. ‘The story will be all over Bath in less than a half hour! Did you mean what you said?’

      ‘Of course!’ Greville looked grim. ‘You know I’ve been meaning to marry Amelia this past age! This ridiculous jaunt to Blanchland has simply precipitated matters!’

      ‘Hope she sees it in the same light as you, old fellow,’ Guy said feelingly. ‘Do you mean to go there to offer her your protection?’

      ‘Well, I hadn’t thought of it until five minutes ago,’ Greville admitted, ‘but now I see I need to talk some sense into the foolish woman!’

      Guy repressed a grin. ‘Well, in that case you’d better travel with me! I’m for Woodallan, and you can break your journey there before travelling to Blanchland on the morrow.’

      ‘Thank you!’ Greville seemed to be recovering his good humour. The tense lines on his face eased a little. ‘And what of your own plans, Guy? Thought you were touched in the attic when you said that about marrying Miss Sheridan!’

      Guy shifted a little. ‘Couldn’t leave Miss Sheridan as the only one with a stain on her reputation, could I, Grev? That odious woman would rip her to shreds!’

      ‘But will you keep your word?’ Greville pressed. ‘If not, Miss Sheridan will be thrown to the wolves anyway!’

      ‘I suppose I’m honour bound to try to persuade her…’ Guy gave his friend a lopsided grin. ‘You may count this as your fault, for telling me to examine my feelings! Truth is, I’d offer for Sarah like a shot if I thought she’d have me, but I doubt she’ll even consider it. Too much to forgive, I suppose! Devil take it, how have I managed to make such a confounded mess of things in such a short space of time?’

      Greville laughed. ‘Cupid’s arrow, old chap! Strikes when and where, at will! And it seems to me that, of the two of us, you have the harder task!’

      ‘Amelia, you know this will not serve! Instead of saving my reputation, you are only ruining your own! Why, both of us will be tarred with the same brush!’

      Sarah and her cousin had been arguing all the way from Brock Street to Combe Hay. The beauty of the winter countryside had been ignored and the discomfort of the twisting road scarcely noticed as Sarah desperately tried to persuade Amelia to change her mind. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. Amelia had spent considerable time and effort in trying to persuade her to abandon the trip to Blanchland, yet here she was sitting in Amelia’s carriage with Amelia’s servants in attendance and Amelia herself beside her. And her cousin was adamant.

      ‘I am a respectable widow whose good reputation can only help to protect you, dearest Sarah. Since it seems you are determined to go through with this mad plan, I feel it my duty to accompany you and save you from yourself!’

      ‘You are very noble,’ Sarah said, uncertain whether to laugh or cry, ‘but pray do not make this sacrifice on my account! You have told me yourself that Blanchland is the most licentious house in the kingdom—you must know that even your good name will not be able to withstand the scandal! Oh, Amelia, pray do not go through with this!’

      Amelia turned her dark gaze on her cousin. ‘You have not told me why this visit is so important to you, Sarah, but I have to believe that it is of great consequence. If it matters so much to you that you are prepared to risk your reputation on it, I am prepared to do the same to help you. There! We shall have no more arguments!’ She turned her shoulder and looked out of the window.

      Sarah gave a sigh of exasperation. She could not