Lady Phillipa's Peril: Regency Romance Suspense Series ( Book 3) (Lords of Sussex 4) (4 page)

Hector frowned. ‘At least we are not at the mercy of the card sharpers here. I hear they have closed another den in Tiger Alley. Damned difficult to find a clean game anywhere now. I hear Lord Tucton gambled away his whole estate.’

‘Didn’t know you played Faro Phillipa?’ Demetrius quipped, sprawled in a chair. Lifting a languid hand he said, ‘Come sit here, tis a spare seat.

Luckily, Phillipa espied one next to Miss Templeton. ‘Thank you Demetrius but I would like to sit here.’

Eloise looked up grinning, a certain look in her eye that said she too considered Demetrius a rake. 

‘Faro is the bane of many a wife’s life.’ Lady Taunton spat, a hand to her bony chest. ‘Why my late husband suffered at the hands of those wretches.’

The conversation quelled momentarily, for all knew her sad history.  She was lucky to retain the estate and but for the largesse of her extended family would have lost that too. ‘Fortunes have been lost in an evening as well I know.’

Phillipa wondered how the woman could even pick up a Faro card, but then the two whist tables were taken, so there was little else to do except chatter. 

‘And fortunes won as well,’ said the amiable Mrs Rawlings, trying to lighten the atmosphere.  Picking up her glass, she took a sip of sherry, not noticing it drip onto the pink satin folds of her dress. ‘Mr. Rawlings informs me that there is a tiger town not far from here. At night, the streets teem with would be players all seeking a game.

‘I think it quite nauseating to have acquired such a nickname for a town. Why before Faro became popular there, it was called Bedesford, after the blessed Saint Bede.’ Vicar Thomson said his voice almost a snarl. ‘Tis a desecration.’

‘Yes, tis a far cry from the noble monk.’  Hector murmured, looking at the Faro cards in the vicar’s large hand.

‘It’s the odds that’s the problem; it's easy to win a fortune and easy to lose one.’

‘That is why it is so addictive,’ Eloise murmured, smiling at Phillipa.

‘But why call it twisting the tiger’s tail?’ Amelia asked, examining the cards. ‘Does it come from India?’

‘No – no.’ Vicar Thomson answered. ‘Nothing as romantic as that. It comes from the court of Louis XIVth; they called it
pharaon;
the early cards had the picture of a Bengal Tiger on the back. The game had the best odds for the player, so it was very popular.’

Phillipa checked her money purse in the reticule; she had more than enough shillings. She looked up to see Demetrius’s gaze roam over her bosom.  Catching his eye, she flushed as he deliberately licked his lower lip. Thankfully, he was well away from her, so she determined to ignore him.  She saw Lady Amaryllis beside Hector, simpering behind her fan no less. Could he be his mistress? She had to stop being so suspicious, but the message on the note still played her mind, “Marry at your peril." No she had to dismiss it; otherwise it could ruin her evening. Her mood lifted, as the hours sped by in cards, wine and laughter.  All too soon, the clock chimed two am, and people began to drift away.

Hector came over smiling expansively, whilst Lady Amaryllis followed.  ‘Come my dear let me escort you to your room,’ he said and then turned to Lady Amaryllis. ‘May I wish you a very good night my lady – adieu.’

Giving Phillipa and him a low curtsey, she giggled murmuring, ‘Till tomorrow.’

Coming alongside her, Demetrius put a hand on her shoulder, it looked affectionate, but she felt the pinch of his despicable fingers. Trying not to show it hurt her, she moved closer to Hector, only to feel him pinch her again. ‘You’ll be quite safe dearest, if there are any burglars tonight, we shall be either side of you.’ he whispered into her ear.

Phillipa caught the veiled message. She would make sure to lock herself in.

Demetrius left them at her door and after a low bow to Phillipa, sauntered to his own room. I shall leave you turtle doves to your cooing,’ he said, over his shoulder.

Hector bent his head to hers, and pecked her on the cheek. ‘Now I shall leave you to your beauty sleep m’dear.’

Phillipa closed the door, and leant against it. He was so sweet, so gentle, but she needed more, where was the passion, the desire, the need? It appeared her only resort to romance was in Ann Radcliffe’s novels. Taking a breath, she resolved she would make the best of the situation.  At least, she had a life of comfort to look forward to. She did have a choice really, but at the price of ruination. Without Hector’s generosity, her family also faced a bleak future of genteel poverty.

Moving away from the door, she went to the dressing table, unclipping her hair.  Her maid was long abed, and she did not wish to disturb her at this late hour. It was not as if she had to undo stays.  With the empire line, at least women were free to breathe. It was noticeable that not so many swooned so readily these days.  Letting the gown slip to the floor, she suddenly remembered the door. Instantly, she sped across the room, turning the key in the lock. She breathed a sigh of relief; thank goodness, she nearly forgot.

Returning to the dressing table, she stepped out of her petticoats, and stood in her chemise before the standing mirror. Her hands slid down her body, yes; her breasts were nicely rounded, but as she had a sweet tooth, she had to constantly watch her diet.

Going to the window, she drew the curtains; light flooded the room as she looked up at a gibbous moon. She was unaware of a figure watching her, still and silent behind the canopy of the four-poster bed. The stars were so clear, and she resolved to study more of astronomy, especially as it was Hector’s main interest. It was something they could share.  He even had an observatory, and she liked the idea of spending time there with him.  Why she could even sketch the planet, the star systems, the Big Bear and the Mizar the smaller one, then there are the Horse and Rider, the major binary stars. She could even draw the astrological signs, maybe not what Hector would appreciate, but at least it could be an interest they could share.

As she made her way to her bed, the figure moved back deeper into the shadows.  Lying awake, she mused on the idea, it was not against the rules of propriety to be knowledgeable about the stars, especially in the wake of Caroline Herschel, who discovered eight comets. The woman had quite a following, and made the study of astronomy acceptable for young ladies. Of course, Hershel’s brother and nephew took much of the acclaim for her work. Nevertheless, she was noted as an expert in the subject. It was a sad story of a child stricken with typhus and left almost of dwarf height at four feet three inches. However, the woman was fulfilled, driven by her passion for astronomy.

Phillipa sighed, what was her own aim, her true passion? She had to find some meaning in her life, something to strive for. There was her art, but again, she was so restricted. There must be more than just bearing the next heir? Having children must be a precious time, but there should be more? Men had children yet their lives were also filled with exciting interests and adventures.  What was her true aim in life? What could she do that would not cause condemnation? Yet, besides her art, she could think of nothing. The solar system may be wondrous, but it was not her raison d’etre. Snuggling down on the silken pillows, her reveries lulled her to sleep.

Silently, the figure crept to the side of the bed. Demetrius grinned to himself; she was unaware of the secret sliding panel, something he contrived months before. Careful not to arouse her, he sat on the eiderdown; such a beautiful creature in repose, he leaned over picking up a lock of ebony hair, so silken to the touch. He kissed it, smelling the sweet freshness of lavender.  Leaning further over, his lips only inches from hers, his hand floated above her forehead, then her neck and her bosom. He desperately wanted to stroke the milky skin, but restrained himself. There was more than enough time for that.

Softly, he climbed onto the bed and lay beside her, listening to her breathing. It took all his power not to take her, but he could wait. Soon she would be his; soon she would lie in his arms every night, his lover and his bride. Nothing could go wrong now; that stupid clod of a brother had no idea. Why should such an oaf have it all? As the  second son, he managed on a small estate,  an annuity and a commission. He smiled; everything was planned down to the last detail. It was not a smile and a kiss this woman needed, but fervour, excitement, a man’s overpowering desire. He smiled, nuzzling the lustrous locks; soon it would all be his, the manor, the estates, the mines and the plantations and her.

Hector lay reflecting on his coming nuptials. He was comfortable in the knowledge that he would give her a good life, and take care of her loved ones, but beyond that he needed more – much more. She was beautiful, but he still looked upon her as the child he’d played with and protected. They’d all grown up together, Horatio, Alexander, and Vaughan, Isabella, Henrietta and later Venetia. He could never jilt her, besides; she was a popular girl and there were many who would give him the cut. Nevertheless, there were ways of finding love.

The sun blazed in through the ancient portico, with shafts of light piercing the darkness. The scent of roses from the burgeoning rose garden, and lavender from the herbaceous borders wafted over the greeting party.  Phillipa put her hand to her eyes, as the carriage emerged from the dark tunnel of trees. She could just see Venetia in the distance, seated high on the phaeton, waving excitedly. Her heart lifted, as Hector’s arm came around her, hugging her close.

They watched Hodgeson, the butler standing in the drive, his face sombre and shoulders slightly hunched with his advancing years. He looked over to see the maids and footmen chattering and hushed them. Really, the dowager was too lax with them, and the housekeeper wasn’t much better. Giggling the girls held their hands to their mouths, casting flirtatious glances towards the young men. Amelia and Lily stood to one side whispering, most probably planning their wardrobe for the forthcoming journey to Brussels.

‘Happy sweetheart?’ Hector asked, bending his head to kiss Phillipa’s cheek.

‘Oh yes Hector. I have missed Venetia already. I expect you are pleased to see Horatio too?’

‘Yes, it’s good to have some male company; no offence m’dear, but you know how you women prattle on, bless  your little hearts.’

Phillipa tried not to wince at his condescending  words. ‘Well I shall take Venetia to the Chocolate House and then a walk along the promenade.  She is like a sister to me. You know she is so fine in her nature. She does not have an unkind bone in her body. In fact, she strives to be helpful and goes out of her way to comfort people. I know she does a lot of work for the tenants on her father’s estate.’

‘Hmm that is something I must needs attend to. Unfortunately, with the war, I am away so much, and our steward is getting on in years now. Tis the same for all the men on the estate, most of them are in Belgium and before that fighting in the Peninsula.’

‘So you will be hunting as well?’

‘Hmm, no, duty calls m’dear. As I said, the tenants are struggling – have to see to it.’

‘It must be hard for the women and children.’ Phillipa said, watching the  phaeton in the distance, fairly flying up the drive towards them.

‘Yes tis hard work. They work day and night all year round. Food is short; some are riddled with the rheumatism working out in all weathers; others are dying of pneumonia and fevers.’

‘Have you no casual labourers who could help out?’

‘No, we have lost so many to the towns; hoards are also migrating to the northern  factories and mills.’

‘We have a mill here don’t we?’ Phillipa said.

‘Yes, but not on the scale of the northern ones. The cottage industries are dying off; the flying shuttle saw to that, the handloom weavers are producing masses of cotton.’

‘Yes I have heard the handloom weavers earn more in the factory than someone at home.’  

Hector said softly, ‘Reminds me of ‘Blake’s words,

And was Jerusalem builded here,

Among these dark satanic mills.’

Phillipa nodded, her excitement mounting, as she could now make out Venetia’s face, as she waved.  ‘Yes, all those ancient arts are swiftly taking over. The small loom of the cottage is lost to the gigantic one at the mill’

‘Families too are so greatly affected, with the long hours, many of the women and girls live and sleep at the mills in dormitories, separated from the men. Tis such a hard life, what is to become of England as we know it?’

Hugging her, Hector said, ‘Let us think of our own tenants, and try to give them a more comfortable life, that is something I must do once this wretched war is over.’

Phillipa almost jumped with elation, as Venetia alighted from the phaeton with the help of the footmen, whilst Horatio came around from the other side. Shaking hands and clapping each other on the shoulders, the men stood talking, whilst Venetia and Phillipa hugged, kissed and cried.

‘Dearest, tis only a few days, but I have missed you so.’ Phillipa said taking out a small handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt.

Venetia adjusted the cream silk ribbons of her bonnet decorated with cream roses, and then, smoothed the violet muslin of her gown, the silver embroidery of her slippers sparkling in the sun. ‘I too, no-one to join me at the Chocolate House, and I needed you at the dressmakers. Mrs. Watkins, had some new laces and jewelled buttons, and I dearly wanted to buy you some, but I could hardly choose for you.’ 

‘Dearest you have such good taste; I am sure I would have loved them.’

‘Well I have brought you some little pearl buttons, which will match anything, and ribbons, and muslin ruching.’

‘Oh Venetia thank you, the very things I have need of. I am almost out of fresh ribbon.’

The dowager came forward holding her parasol, and kissed Venetia on both cheeks. ‘Welcome dear child, la it seems only yesterday you were all children, and it was tea, cakes and play, and now here you all are, weddings, travels and soon, children of your own. I hear you too are travelling to Brussels?’

A faint shadow crossed Venetia’s face as she murmured, ‘Well … it seems we may have to change our plans.’

Phillipa frowned. Something was wrong; she would wait until they were alone to ask her. Horatio seemed quite ebullient, so it cannot be too serious. 

‘Tis so beautiful here, I am sure you will be very happy Phillipa. As her ladyship says, we had such blissful times here,’ Venetia said, changing the subject.

‘Yes, I think the only thing I would change, would be the moat, tis so deep and I would fear for the children.’ 

Hector laughed, ‘Nay, t’was a source of joy and adventure for us. Why my brothers and I had such fun with our rafts on the moat.  We had endless games of pirates on the high seas, let alone as warriors storming the castle walls.’

Venetia laughed, ‘It was ofttimes a riot; We covered in mud and Miss Peabody chasing us with a whip. As for your governess, she was always blowing that whistle.’

‘It must have been hard work for her, let alone having four boys to boot.’ Phillipa said.

‘Hmm yes, dear old Miss Turnstone, she was quite elderly was she not?’

What became of her Hector?’ Horatio enquired.’

‘Long retired and enjoying a small cottage on the estate. We visit her sometimes and are entertained with lemonade and cakes. We have to watch our manners, as she still treats us as children. Mama engaged a new governess for the twins.’

‘Miss Peabody was even worse, a tyrant. I had to wear a board strapped to my back to keep my spine straight.’ Venetia laughed,

Phillipa shivered, ‘Yes terrible things. It was all about deportment for us girls. We had to not only wear the board but also practice walking with books on our heads to lengthen our necks and to learn how to glide. If we dared to take the boards off, we were soundly whipped.’

Hector frowned, ‘Why that is appalling Phillipa; Miss Turnstone was quite soft. I remember her singing us nursery rhymes to introduce us to the world of letters and writing. I was sorry to leave to go to boarding school. Eton was hell after my safe little schoolroom.’

‘Then you were blessed Hector,’ Venetia said, ‘it seems both Phillipa, and I had wicked witches for governesses. However, I must say I am often praised on my deportment and step.’

‘Hardly worth all those whippings though.’ Phillipa said wryly. ‘I once beseeched my mama to scold the governess, but she just clucked and said it was up to our tutor to rein in our awkward slouching and mould us into  elegant young ladies. We had to appear to be floating into a room and to rise as light as a feather from seating position.’

‘And float you do,’ drawled a voice behind them. Phillipa tried not to scowl, as Demetrius stepped to their side, clapping a hand on her shoulder. She waited for the pinch, but it seemed he was in a jocular mood.

‘Good to see you again Winton,’ he said, with a disarming smile, shaking Horatio’s hand. Ready for some shooting?’

‘Rather. When?’

‘Tomorrow, I thought  it would be excellent exercise before the wedding.  Otherwise, I think it is croquet on the lawn.’

‘Well I think we can safely leave that to the ladies.’

‘Speak for yourself.’ Venetia said spiritedly, ‘We are off to the nearest chocolate house and then a stroll on the promenade; I would love to see the bathing huts.’

Hector turned to Phillipa, ‘Yes, most of the guests arrive over the next few days, so take the opportunity whilst you may.’

As they walked into the gloom of the portico, Demetrius stepped forward to walk beside Phillipa, but was cut off by Hector, who turned impulsively and pulled Phillipa to him, in a show of affection.

His brother stepped back, his thoughts dark; enjoy her whilst you can Hector. With a sinister smile, he followed them into the coolness of the baronial hall.