Dorothy Eden (6 page)

‘I want Titus to form an affection for Mallow Hall,’ he went on. ‘I’ve wandered too much to care a great deal for any one place. Besides, my childhood at Mallow, with a father who was a tyrant, doesn’t leave me with the happiest memories of the place. But Titus is the heir. It would be a good thing if he came to love the place. I want him to be a greater comfort to his mother than I ever was to mine.’

Was the man a complete hypocrite? It seemed so.

Yet the keen regard he now bent on Sarah seemed to have more than a degree of honesty.

‘But we came in here to discuss you, not Titus, Miss Mildmay. We must go through the right motions. I intend you to join our household. You have firmness and initiative. I like that. You will be excellent for Titus. Frankly, although I can see you are of the greatest respectability, I wouldn’t care who your family or your last employer was. I decide on character alone.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Sarah murmured.

‘But for the sake of satisfying my wife’s curiosity, tell me something of yourself.’

This was the hardest moment of all, improvising, while the alert regard of those black eyes was bent on her.

‘My father is dead, Lord Mallow. He had misfortune in business matters, and left my mother very poorly provided for. Consequently, my sisters and I have had to seek positions.’

She did not mention the amount of the fortune which her charming profligate father had squandered. She thought fleetingly of her mother shutting up the house in Richmond, selling the elaborate furniture that was too large for the country cottage with which she was left, bidding a sad farewell to all the servants but elderly Martha who would stay with her, and shedding tears over the fashionable gowns and furs that had to be discarded with her old way of life. Now Mamma’s only prayer was that somehow, by the kindness of heaven, her daughters would make good marriages. She was so eager about this that Sarah had insisted to Aunt Adelaide that her attachment to Ambrose be kept the closest secret. Otherwise Mamma would have the news whispered in every drawing-room in London.

Though not now that Ambrose also was reduced in status to a struggling barrister, Sarah reflected ironically. It was as well, after all, that Mamma’s hopes had not been raised.

‘I have been with Lady Adelaide Fitzsimmons for the last two years,’ Sarah went on, knowing that this man’s confidence in his own judgment would prevent him from any desire to take up her references. If he should do so, Aunt Adelaide would be more than equal to the occasion.

The one danger she had foreseen was that, during her employ, some former acquaintance of hers might visit the house and recognise her. But down at Mallow Hall this was not likely. Nor was it likely that her former friends would be on visiting terms with the upstart Lady Mallow and her impostor husband. As far as she knew, with the case pending, they had not been received anywhere, and public opinion had been strongly in favour of Ambrose.

‘Do you mind my observing that no one looks less like a governess?’

Sarah had kept her face prim and her lashes lowered. Now her eyelids flew up guiltily to meet again his frank and impudent scrutiny.

‘I can’t help my appearance, Lord Mallow.’

‘Don’t apologise for it. It’s quite as satisfactory as your references. Can you begin tomorrow? We leave for Mallow the following day, and the journey may be tiresome. It would be better that Titus grows a little used to you in advance. He’s not a good traveller.’

There was no doubt that Blane was disappointed in his nervous delicate son. The child, of course, sensed this, and the trouble was heightened. What a selfish insensitive person he was. Couldn’t he at least pretend to show affection for the poor baby?

‘Yes, I could be ready, sir,’ she answered meekly. ‘If your wife wishes it, also.’

‘The decision, Miss Mildmay, is mine.’

Sarah fought to hide her active resentment and dislike. Amalie had aroused no admiration in her, but did she deserve this contemptuous disregard for her wishes? This man was impertinent, lordly, patronising, selfish and, though perhaps unwittingly, cruel. She would take the utmost pleasure in spying on him and eventually denouncing him.

‘I shall be happy to pay you whatever you were receiving in your last position,’ he went on.

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘If that isn’t sufficient you have only to tell me.’

‘It is quite sufficient, thank you, sir.’ She had no intention of letting him throw Ambrose’s money about indiscriminately.

‘I’d advise plenty of warm clothes. If Mallow is as I remember it, it’s devilish cold in winter.’

Sarah stood up to leave.

‘Thank you, sir, for trusting me.’ The treacherous words escaped her without her realising their import.

He gave a half smile. His eyes remained brooding.

‘On the contrary, the boot’s on the other foot. Thank you for trusting me. So far, as you must realise, very few people have.’

Sarah’s cheeks were still flushed uncomfortably with the knowledge of her deceit as she left the house.

But almost at once triumph at her success filled her. She had done what Ambrose expected of her. He would be delighted.

She found herself nodding conspiratorially to the cabman, and he winked back, grinning broadly, showing his rotting teeth, and the unquenchable merriment of his eyes.

‘All safe and snug, miss?’

Amalie, the new Lady Mallow, would have stiffened with indignation and suspicion had a cabby chosen to show any interest in her welfare. Sarah repressed her regrettable tendency to laugh from amusement and sheer light-heartedness.

‘All safe and snug, thank you. Now drive me back to Portman Square, if you please.’

The recounting of her experience to Aunt Adelaide and Ambrose was even more satisfying.

‘I am to be ready in two days’ time,’ she said, ‘to go down to Mallow Hall. We are all moving there for the winter.’

‘We!’
Ambrose echoed in the greatest indignation.

‘We must face facts, Ambrose. I am to be one of the household now.’

‘Not for long, I swear.’

‘For just as long as it takes you to return from Trinidad so that we can prepare our separate evidence.’

‘Having spoken to him, you still believe this man is not Blane Mallow?’ Aunt Adelaide enquired.

‘Of course he isn’t. He has the look of the complete adventurer. All I wonder is how the jury could have been so misled.’

‘A jury has to decide a case on evidence. The evidence in this matter was unassailable.’

‘Seemed so,’ Sarah corrected. ‘There’s a simple answer. Lady Malvina is concerned for her own comfort, and ridiculously sentimental about her grandson. Blane—I should say his impersonator—is an ambitious adventurer, and his wife is worse. She has ideas about her social status. She is really, beneath her pretended sophistication, quite ignorant.’

‘My darling child!’ cried Aunt Adelaide. ‘If all this is true, you can’t go to live with people like that. Especially not to work for them.’

‘Oh, tush!’ Sarah exclaimed. ‘It will do me no harm, and the little boy needs care and affection. Between them all, they’re turning him into a scared little shadow. Champagne at his age, indeed!’

Aunt Adelaide gasped. Ambrose said gloomily, ‘It’s no more than I expected. Think what people like that will do to Mallow Hall.’

Sarah nodded.

‘They must not be allowed to stay there a moment longer than necessary. But I’ll soon get into Lady Malvina’s confidence, I promise you. Amalie, I’m afraid, is my enemy already.’

‘And the man?’ Ambrose enquired stiffly.

‘Oh, he can act the part of gentleman. But we’ve already crossed swords as to the way he’s allowing his son to be brought up.’

‘Then why did he allow you to be engaged?’

Sarah gave a small retrospective smile.

‘I think I was a challenge to him just as much as he was to me. And there was the little boy clinging to me. Perhaps even he wasn’t hard-hearted enough to resist that.’

‘Sarah, you almost make me believe you’re as innocent as you sound,’ Ambrose cried exasperatedly. ‘Have you never looked in your mirror?’

Sarah opened her eyes in astonishment.

‘You mean he might have admired me? That he might have ideas of—of seduction?’

‘He’s a blackguard, isn’t he?’

‘But not in that way. Not as far as we know. After all, he’s respectably married. No, Ambrose, we must be fair. And if it should remotely come to that, I can take care of myself. Can’t I, Aunt Adelaide?’

‘Nothing,’ said Aunt Adelaide, ‘would surprise me about this man! But I admit if you hadn’t the spirit to do something about this miserable affair I’d have been very disappointed in you both. I wish you luck. Though if Sarah has the least trouble with her employer, she is to pack her bags and come home at once.’

‘And,’ said Ambrose, his eyes as hard as stone, ‘I shall kill him.’

A
MBROSE WOULD NOT ALLOW
Sarah to come to the docks to see him sail. Under the circumstances they must not risk being seen together, even in such an unlikely place.

So they said their farewells in Aunt Adelaide’s drawing-room, that lady thoughtfully leaving them alone for a precious twenty minutes.

Ambrose was dressed for travelling. His face was thin and pale and serious, and there was already a dedicated look in his eyes.

‘How long shall you be away?’ Sarah asked. All her excitement had evaporated, and she was filled with nothing but loneliness and a persistent feeling of apprehension.

‘There’s no telling. Perhaps three months, perhaps six, or even twelve.’

‘And I must stay at Mallow all this time?’

‘Unless something happens to make that impossible. If they should discover what you are up to, for instance, or if, for any other reason, their behaviour can’t be tolerated.’

‘I will tolerate it.’

‘No, my love, you mustn’t go beyond reasonable bounds. Even for me.’

Ambrose smiled, but Sarah privately wished that his smile had had more warmth and tenderness. Always a serious young man, since the outcome of the case he seemed to have lost his remaining youth. He had now only this look of coldness and determination.

‘And remember, I will communicate with you when possible.’

‘Telling me everything you discover,’ Sarah begged.

‘That I could only do by personal messenger. I couldn’t risk a letter falling into the wrong hands. Then the fat would be in the fire.’

‘But I must hear from you,’ Sarah cried. ‘Supposing you’re away a whole year!’

‘That’s unlikely, but if so you must be patient. Think of our reward. Our rights established.’

Sarah smiled at last.

‘I shall secretly pretend I’m mistress of Mallow all the time.’

‘But with the right master’.’

‘Ambrose, there’s no need to remind me of that!’ Nevertheless, a quick picture sprang into her mind of the dark-browed man she had last seen sprawling at his ease with all the confidence of ownership in the firelit library. It would be difficult to oust his memory from any house he lived in, especially after several months of ownership. He was not a nonentity.

‘Ambrose,’ she cried urgently, ‘come back as quickly as you can.’

‘I shall surely do that. And I shall send you news when possible.’

He added, ‘If anything of importance happens to you, or you discover evidence such as letters or documents which will help our case, communicate with me at once.’

‘You mean I’m to steal documents!’

‘It isn’t likely that our clever opponent will leave anything of any significance lying about, but if he does, yes, you are to steal it. Or let us say, borrow.’ Ambrose gave his faint smile that was intended to be reassuring. ‘Don’t look so alarmed. Would you rather do nothing, accept this injustice?’

‘Oh, no! I’m as determined as you,’ Sarah declared. But for a moment that queer unreasonable feeling of apprehension had touched her again.’

‘Although I can’t help thinking,’ she added, ‘that it would be simpler if you were simply to marry an heiress, after all.’

The bitter intolerant look sprang into Ambrose’s eyes.

‘And let this impostor win! As well as lose you.’ (She had only imagined the last part of his sentence was a little belated.) ‘I love you Sarah. You must wait for me. I’ll be back as soon as possible, and all will be well. Now I must be off. The ship sails at full tide.’

For a moment he clasped her in his arms. His cheek was cool against hers. If it hadn’t been for the tightness of his embrace she would have thought him only half with her, even then, the other half already in the hot sunshine of the West Indies, intent on his revenge.

Sarah’s only other farewell was to her two sisters, Amelia and Charlotte. They were full of excited chatter about her new position, and also perhaps a little maliciously pleased that Aunt Adelaide, who so unfairly favoured Sarah, had not been able to find her a husband after all. They knew nothing of Ambrose which was just as well, as they might have thought him a too secretive and cautious person. If he had really loved Sarah wouldn’t he have wanted to proclaim his feelings at once, not to wait and see to his future. They had no worldly wisdom about these things, Sarah thought. They had romantic dreams that love was all-sufficient, when more sophisticated and intelligent people realised that a marriage under the present conditions must be doomed to fail. For Ambrose would be constantly brooding over his wrongs, and she would blame herself for having accentuated them.

No, apart from the hypothetical heiress, they were doing the only thing possible.

But she did wish Amelia and Charlotte would not think it so daring and exciting, that she was to be in the household of the new Lord Mallow.

‘So much more interesting than me with Mrs Throckmorten,’ Amelia sighed. ‘We go to Bath to take the waters, then we return to London, and that is the entire sum of our excitement. She has few callers and doesn’t like ever to be alone. I get so bored with sitting opposite her, looking at her—she is exactly like a pug wrapped in shawls—that I could scream.’

‘At least,’ said Charlotte, ‘she doesn’t have a married daughter who constantly calls to criticise the way things are done now she no longer lives in the house.’