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Authors: Sarah Mallory

BOOK: Disgrace and Desire
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Hot tears pricked at her eyelids.

‘Oh. That was so very good of him.’ She hunted for her handkerchief.

‘You were a damned fool to turn Clifton away, Elle.’

‘What else could I do? Deforge threatened to kill him if he interfered.’

‘I would back Jack Clifton against a dozen men like Deforge.’

She shook her head.

‘I could not take that risk. Until last night I thought that any attempt to thwart Sir Ronald would result in the journal being published, and if M-Major Clifton was involved then he would be implicated in our disgrace.’

‘So you sent him away.’

‘Yes.’ Eloise wiped her eyes. ‘It is done, and that’s an end to it.’ She looked again at the paper. ‘But I do not understand: after my last…meeting with Lord Berrow I was sure he would not sell. What made him change his mind?’

Alex grinned.

‘Jack saw him coming out of the house at the end of the street. Kitty Williams’s house.’

She stared at him.

‘But Mrs Williams is a…’

‘Exactly. Jack made a few enquiries, found that for a price the fair Kitty was more than willing to divulge all the sordid details of Lord Berrow’s visits to her establishment. Then he went to see the old hypocrite and told him that if he didn’t want the whole world to know about his dealings with that Cyprian and her sisters, he should sell you Ainsley Wood.’

‘And Lord Berrow agreed?’

‘Aye, immediately, Jack said. It seems he was eager to
protect his reputation. He was especially anxious that his friend Wilberforce should not find out about it, nor his wife.’

‘Then, then we can go ahead with the foundling hospital.’ She folded the paper and put it in her reticule. ‘That is wonderful news. I must write to the major and thank him—’

‘No.’ Alex interrupted her. ‘Jack said to tell you he wants no thanks from you. He is doing this for Tony, because he wants a lasting memorial for a fallen comrade. I think you have hurt him very badly, my dear.’

‘I know.’ She put her hands to her cheeks. ‘I know, and I am sorry for it. But it is not as if he l-loved me.’

‘No?’

She heard the disbelief in Alex’s tone and she shook her head.

‘No. He told me himself that he was in love with Sir Ronald’s first wife. That is why he is so keen to challenge Deforge.’

‘That may of course be an added reason—’

‘It is the
main
reason,’ she interrupted him. ‘My reputation is sadly tarnished, Alex.’

‘But Clifton knows now it was all a lie—!’

‘But the world believes it, Alex! How could a man as good, as honourable as Jack Clifton live with that, when he has carried the memory of a sweet, innocent woman in his heart for so many years?’

Alex did not answer and a long silence fell over the room. She struggled to smother her unhappiness. She had succeeded only too well: Jack Clifton had left town and he wanted nothing more to do with her. He was safe from Deforge and his henchmen. That was what she had planned, so she had no reason to feel aggrieved, and certainly no reason to be surprised. He was gone. Even now she could feel the loneliness
settling over her like a heavy cloak. Eloise squared her shoulders: there would be time for tears later. Now she had to decide just how to proceed.

She looked at Alex. He still had one arm in a sling and by his own admission he was unable to walk more than a few steps. He could not help her. There was only one solution. Having made up her mind, she looked up, saying brightly, ‘I had best take this paper to my lawyer and have him deal with it immediately.’

‘And what of the other business—the journal?’

‘You must not worry about that, Alex.’

‘I always worry when I see that look on your face.’

She gazed at him, her eyes very wide.

‘What look?’

‘That innocent, butter-would-not-melt look. I insist that you tell me what you are planning, madam. No, don’t walk out on me—Elle—
Eloise
!’

But she was already at the door and as she closed it behind her she heard his angry exclamation and the clatter as his breakfast tray slid to the floor.

Chapter Seventeen

J
ack was putting the finishing touches to his neckcloth when he heard voices on the stairs outside his rooms. He nodded to Robert.

‘Go out and send them away. Tell them I’ve already left town!’

He shrugged himself into his waistcoat, scowling as he heard the low rumble of voices growing louder. Damn Robert, could he not even obey a simple order?

‘Sir, ’tis Mister Mortimer, and he says he knows you are here and he must speak with you.’

Jack’s frown turned to a look of exasperation as he watched Alex limping into the room.

‘What the devil are you doing here?’ he demanded. ‘You are as pale as your shirt!’

He quickly lifted the half-filled portmanteau from the chair. ‘You had best sit down.’

Alex was leaning heavily on his stick and with a grimace he lowered himself on to the chair.

‘Yes, well, I wasn’t planning on coming this far today!’

‘You walked here? Damned fool.’

‘No, of course I didn’t walk! I took a cab, but just those stairs to get up here have taken their toll.’

Jack waved his hand impatiently.

‘And what has brought you here? I don’t suppose you came to see me off.’

‘It’s Elle,’ said Alex without preamble. ‘
I
can’t help her, so I need you to do so.’

Jack looked towards Robert, dismissing him with the slightest movement of his head. ‘Does Lady Allyngham know you are here?’

Alex shook his head.

‘She came to see me this morning, and I did as you asked. I told her you had already gone.’

‘Thank you. Now I suggest you go home and let me get on with my packing.’

‘But this is important, Jack!’

‘Not to me! I am done with her. She does not want my help; she has made that very plain on more than one occasion.’

‘This is not about what Elle
wants.
I am afraid she is going to do something foolhardy.’

Jack gave a bitter laugh.

‘There would be nothing new in that! No, she has chosen her path. God knows I tried to befriend her. I even thought—but she is done with me. She is going to marry Deforge. I won’t try to stop her.’

‘But the fellow’s a rogue!’

Jack shrugged. ‘I have told her what I think of the man,’ he said coldly. ‘If she chooses to ignore it then I can do nothing to help her. I only hope she fares better than his first wife.’

Alex waved his good hand.

‘I am not talking about her marriage,’ he said impatiently. ‘I think she has conceived some madcap scheme to recover the journal!’

Jack looked at the pale face staring up at him and bit back a stinging retort.

‘Alex, tell me why I should put myself out any more for this woman? She is not at all grateful for anything I have done so far and at our last meeting she made it very clear that she wanted nothing more to do with me.’

‘I thought you loved her.’

Jack looked away. He picked up his brushes from the dressing table and threw them into the portmanteau.

He said coldly, ‘It is impossible for me to love someone who is not honest with me.’ He turned, subjecting Alex to a fierce glare. ‘From the very beginning she has refused to share her secrets with me. I wanted to help her—hell and damnation, I wanted to
marry
her, regardless of the crimes she may have committed in the past, but I am convinced now that there is no future for us. She is determined not to confide in me. She does not trust me.’ He snapped shut the portmanteau. ‘All she will say is that the secrets are not hers to share.’

‘She is correct,’ said Alex slowly. ‘But they
are
mine. And I will share them with you.’

There is an hour when the fashionable London streets to the west of the City are silent and deserted, between the night-soil cart rumbling through to collect the pails and the moment when the cook’s boy emerges, yawning, and waits to follow his master to the market.

Eloise stood in the shadows, looking across the street at Sir Ronald’s imposing town house. The windows were dark and the only light from the house was the dim glow of a lamp shining through the fanlight. With her heart thudding heavily against her ribs, she slipped across the road and into the deep shadows of a side alley. She ran freely and realised with some little shock that it was more than ten years since she had last
worn breeches. She had bought them that afternoon at one of the less fashionable bazaars off Bond Street. Her maid had been surprised at her purchases but she had explained that she was buying a set of clothes as a present for a young relative. Even as she counted along the windows to find the right house, part of her mind was thinking of what she might do with the clothes when this night’s work was over.
If
she was successful.

The third set of windows from the alley belonged to Sir Ronald’s house. Everything was in darkness. She had been watching the house for some time, and thought that by now everyone would be asleep, even Sir Ronald’s valet, who would be dozing in his chair by the front door. She only hoped that his master would not come back early: it was well known that Josiah Forbes preferred dancing and theatricals to cards, but he and his wife were exceedingly rich and influential, so those receiving an invitation to one of their select little parties deemed it expedient to make the long drive out to Edgeware. For once she was thankful that her reputation as the Wanton Widow had so far spared her that treat.

She crept along the dark, narrow alley, trying not to think of the dirt and debris beneath her shoes. The brick wall was a good six feet high, but she had climbed higher. Not for a long time, of course: not since she was a girl, making up wild adventures at Allyngham with Tony and Alex. How long ago that seemed now!

‘Can I help you over the wall, my lady?’

Eloise smothered a scream as she spun around to peer at the black shape towering over her. It was far too dark to see, but there was no mistaking the deep, mellow voice, and even as her heart settled back into a steady beat she felt her fear subsiding.

‘Jack! What are you doing here?’ she hissed.

‘I have come to help you.’

Her spirits lifted. She said gruffly, ‘I thought you had left town.’

‘No. Alex was worried about you and since he is not fit enough to help you, it seems I must.’

The elation she had felt a moment ago was somewhat dimmed. Could it be that Jack was doing this for Alex’s sake? From his angry tone it seemed likely. She reached out in the darkness and gripped at his coat with her fingers.

‘You must go away, Jack, now,’ she urged him. ‘It is far too dangerous for you. If
I
am caught, then Sir Ronald may be angry, but he will still want to marry me to gain control of my fortune. I may even be able to placate him, if I am alone…’

He silenced her by pressing his fingers to her lips.

‘Let us be quite clear about one thing, madam, you are
not
marrying Deforge, whether we succeed tonight or we fail. Now no more talking or the sun will be rising before we get out of here!’

His tone brooked no argument. Eloise allowed herself to be lifted up on to the wall and she nimbly swung her legs over and dropped to the ground on the other side. Jack followed a moment later. Fitful moonlight illuminated the yard in shades of blue and black, and she concentrated on finding the best route up to the study window. She scrambled on to a water barrel and from there climbed on to the roof of the outhouse. Her soft shoes made no noise on the tiles: she gave a fleeting smile, remembering Alice’s comments that a pair of solid leather boots would be more fitting for a schoolboy than dancing slippers. That, of course, was before she had shocked her maid into silence by explaining the real reason for her purchases.

The moon slipped behind a thick cloud, plunging her into momentary darkness and she stopped, unable to see her way.
She felt Jack’s hand on her shoulder, steadying her. As the darkness eased she moved forwards until she was standing directly beneath the study window. When she had been inside the room with Sir Ronald she had noted that the window had a new sash frame, secured only by a brass fastener. She took out her penknife and reached up, planning to slide it between the two frames and push back the fastener. Behind her she heard a faint snort and Jack leaned close to breathe his words into her ear.

‘You need to grow another six inches to reach the catch, my dear. Allow me.’

In an instant the deed was done and Jack was carefully pushing open the window. Another moment and they were both standing in Sir Ronald’s study. The moon shone directly in through the window, bathing the room in a silvery light and making it unnecessary for Eloise to use the tinderbox and candle she had thoughtfully tucked into her pocket. She moved swiftly to the desk, penknife in hand, but once again Jack forestalled her.

‘Did your education include picking locks?’ he whispered.

‘Of course not.’

‘Then let me do this. If we are careful no one will know we have been here.’

From his pocket he drew a thin length of wire. It was bent at one end and he carefully inserted it into the drawer lock. He gently moved the wire until she heard a faint but distinct click and Jack pulled open the drawer.

‘Where did you learn that?’ she breathed, wide-eyed.

He turned his head to grin at her.

‘Some of the men in my regiment came from the stews and rookeries of London. They would have been very much at home here.’ He reached into the drawer and lifted out a
small, leather-bound volume. ‘Is this what you have been looking for?’

With shaking hands Eloise took the book and ran her thumbs over the embossed cover. An ornate letter
A
was enclosed in a circle of acanthus leaves: the Allyngham family crest. Quickly she pushed the journal inside her jacket.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, fastening the buttons of her coat. ‘Let us go now.’

She watched Jack slide the drawer back into place and lock it again. He straightened, looking around him as he put the metal rod back into his pocket. Eloise touched him arm.

‘We must go,’ she hissed.

Jack raised his hand. He was looking towards the wing chair, where a shaft of moonlight fell upon a bundle of straps lying over one arm. He walked over and picked them up. Eloise thought at first it might be a belt, or a dog’s leash, but when Jack held it up she saw the straps were connected into an intricate webbing.

‘What is it? It looks very much like a pony’s head-collar, only it is far too small.’

‘This is no head-collar,’ murmured Jack, carefully draping the harness back over the arm of the chair. ‘It is something much more interesting than that.’

There was a thud from somewhere below and she froze, her heart beating so hard she thought it might break through her ribs.

‘The front door,’ hissed Jack. ‘It must be Deforge returned. Quickly!’

He pushed Eloise towards the window. She slithered out on to the roof and descended hastily to the yard with Jack close behind her. He threw her up over the wall and she huddled in the shadows until he joined her. As soon as he reached the
ground he took her hand and they set off at a run out of the alley.

Jack did not stop until they had crossed Oxford Street and were out of sight and sound of the highway, where carts and wagons were beginning to make their way into the town. At last he slowed his pace and Eloise was able to catch her breath. She pulled her hand from his grip and leaned for a moment against the wall. She felt very light-headed. When she had set out that night she had been nervous, but determined upon her course of action: as soon as Jack had appeared her fear had diminished—in a strange sort of way she was even enjoying their adventure.

Jack was watching her, his hands on his hips and his feet slightly apart. She was pleased to note that he, too, was breathing heavily. In the dim light she realised that he had come dressed for the night’s work: he had replaced his modish jacket and light pantaloons with a tight-fitting black coat, black breeches and stockings, and instead of his snowy white neckcloth he wore a dark woollen muffler wrapped around his neck. She glanced down at her own apparel and a quiet laugh shook her.

‘We look like a couple of housebreakers!’

‘We
are
a couple of housebreakers.’

‘Are we safe now, do you think?’ she asked him.

He took her arm again.

‘As safe as one can be on the streets of London at this time of night,’ he retorted, making her walk on. ‘Of all the ill-judged starts! Don’t you know how dangerous it is to come out alone at night?’

She put up her chin.

‘How do you know I didn’t take a cab to Wardle Street?’

‘Because I followed you.’

She pulled her hand free and stared up at him. The flaring
street lamp cast deep shadows across his face. Eloise could not see his eyes but she could almost feel the anger burning there.

‘Alex told me you had left town.’

He let out a long breath, as if controlling his temper.

‘That was my intention. I was finishing my packing when Mortimer came to tell me he was anxious about you.’

‘But he knew nothing of my plans!’

‘He knows
you.
Once he learned you were not accompanying Deforge to Edgeware this evening he guessed you were up to something. I merely had to watch your house until you made your move. I was not fooled when a slip of a lad emerged from the servants’ door in the middle of the night.’

He began to walk on again, and she fell into step beside him.

‘Then I am very grateful to you.’ She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. ‘I am
very
glad you came, Major.’

He put his hand up and briefly clutched the fingers resting on his sleeve and her spirits rose a little. Perhaps he was not quite so angry with her. She glanced around, suddenly anxious.

‘Sir Ronald’s men, the ones who were following you—’

‘No need to worry about them any longer. They are even now on their way to the coast where they will be pressed into service on one of his Majesty’s frigates.’ His wicked grin flashed. ‘Deforge is not the only one who has fellows willing to carry out his more—er—dubious orders.’

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