The Daring Exploits of a Runaway Heiress (4 page)

“You want to be a humorist?” Surprise sounded in Simon’s voice. “Although I should have known. I’ve always found you most amusing.”

“Mr. Twain’s humor is delightful, but he is American and we have such excellent English writers,” Grace said. “Some of them extremely amusing. Why, Shakespeare wrote a number of fine comedies.”

“I don’t think he wishes to be Shakespeare, Grace,” Thad said with a smile.

“I like him. Twain that is.” Spencer nodded. “A great deal, really.”

“As do I.” Father studied Cam for a long moment, a slight smile lifting the corners of his lips. “But then you knew that, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes.” Cam distinctly recalled his father attending a banquet for the American during his visit to England when Cam was a boy.

“You do realize if you had confided in me as to your plans in the beginning, we could have avoided all this unpleasantness.”

Cam shifted uneasily in his chair. “Possibly.”

“I am still not happy with your position with the
Messenger
. If it were the
Times
perhaps but . . .” Father considered him for a long moment. “I shall make you a bargain, Cameron.” Father leaned toward him. “You want to write books, then write me a book. A book that proves to me this is indeed your future and not another lark you have embarked upon. I have been impressed with your writing thus far, but a brief article where the facts are laid out before you is a far cry from a work of fiction. Prove to me this is your passion. I shall give you, what?” He glanced at his mother. “A month?”

“At least two I would think.” Grandmother cast Cam an apologetic glance. “It doesn’t have to be long, you know.”

“And if I can’t?” Cam asked.

“If you can’t, you resign your position at the
Messenger
.” Father’s smile was decidedly smug.

“I see.” Cam thought for a moment. He had not yet tried to write a book. In truth, the very thought was daunting. Still, there was no reason why he couldn’t. And if he didn’t believe in himself, how could he expect anyone else, especially his father, to? “And when I do?”

Father grinned. “
If
you do, I shall not say another disparaging word about the
Messenger
, nor shall I insist you resign. Indeed, I shall willingly support your efforts in whatever way you wish.”

“Nor shall you throw this in his face should the rest of the world discover Cameron Fairchild is really Cameron Effington, son of the Duke of Roxborough,” Mother added. “Should his work—how did you put it? ah yes—cast this family in the poorest of lights, bringing embarrassment and humiliation down upon us all.”

Father hesitated, then sighed. “I will agree to that.”

“Very well then, Father.” Cam adopted his most confident tone. “You have yourself a wager.”

“Oh, I’m willing to wager on that myself.” Simon grinned.

“Simon Effington, you will not wager against your brother.” Mother huffed.

“I would never do that, Mother. Besides, I think he’ll pull it off.” Simon chuckled. “But I am willing to bet Father can’t keep up his end of the bargain.”

“Really?” Father’s brow rose. “And you are willing to put up your own money to back that up?”

“I’d be willing to wager, oh, ten pounds on it.” A wicked gleam shone in Simon’s eyes.

“As am I,” Thad added.

“I’m in.” Spencer nodded.

“What about you, Grace?” Father glanced at his daughter. “Are you too so lacking in faith as to your father’s ability to abide by his word?”

“Oh, Father, I would never say such a thing.” Grace scoffed, then grinned. “But it does seem too good an opportunity to pass up.”

Grandmother nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”

“You too, Mother?”

Grandmother shrugged.

“What about you, Fiona?” The duke looked at his wife. “Are you going to join the rest of my traitorous family?”

“Of course not, dear. I said I would not take sides. Besides”—Mother smiled—“I am already planning to do something completely frivolous with the money you shall collect from our children.”

“Thank you.” Father shook his head in a resigned manner. “It’s so gratifying to know I have the confidence of my family.”

Cam glanced around the table and smiled. “That it is, Father, that it is.”

It was indeed good to know his family had faith in him even if their confidence might exceed his own.

Because, while any number of ideas were constantly simmering in his head, at the moment, he had absolutely no idea what he would write about.

“I am curious, Miss West.” Lucy sipped her tea and studied her new companion over the rim of her cup. The woman was no more than a few years older than Lucy herself. It was a delightful relief. “Where do you stand on the subject of adventures?”

“Adventures?” Miss West considered the question for a moment. “I suspect it would very much depend on the adventure in question.”

“Excellent answer.” Lucy grinned. “I think we will get on quite well together.”

Miss Clara West had arrived at Jackson’s family’s house in London this morning and Lucy hadn’t had time to be little more than introduced to the woman in the flurry of activity surrounding the departure of Jackson and his parents. They planned to travel together on the continent, at least for a while. Jackson had never seen anything of Europe; indeed he had never stepped foot off American soil at all until he had come to England. Their plans were uncertain after that, but he and his father had talked of going on to Turkey or Persia, Arabia or Egypt. Jackson’s father, Colonel Channing, had traveled much of the world and was eager to show strange and wondrous sights in exotic and exciting locales to his wife and son. It was to be quite an adventure, although Lucy did wonder how Mrs. Channing would bear up under it all as she had never seemed particularly prone to adventure.

Jackson’s aunt and uncle, Lord and Lady Briston, departed earlier today as well. They were to accompany Jackson’s cousin, Lady Hargate, and her fiancé, Mr. Russell, to New York to meet the American’s family. Another of Jackson’s cousins, Mrs. Elliott, and her husband had left London yesterday for a long-delayed honeymoon. Which meant, of Jackson’s newfound family, the only close relative remaining in London was the fascinating Beryl, Lady Dunwell.

If things hadn’t been so hectic this morning, when Jackson had briefly met Miss West, he might well have reconsidered this choice for Lucy’s companion. While Jackson had arranged for the hiring of Miss West, he had never met her in person. It was clear from the look on his face that he was expecting a much older lady with a dour manner and stern disposition and not a tall, slender blonde with striking blue eyes and an elegant manner. It was obvious as well that he thought she was entirely too pretty to be a companion. But she had come with excellent references from Lady Stillwell, the wife of Mr. Elliott’s cousin. Regardless of how she came to be hired, Lucy had been adamant that her companion would be her responsibility, not Jackson’s, and she would provide the woman’s salary. She had no intention of being accompanied by a spy paid for by the man she was no longer going to marry. He had reluctantly agreed, but then Lucy had given him no choice.

“Now then.” Lucy cast Miss West her brightest smile. “Where do you suggest we begin?”

“Begin?” Caution sounded in Miss West’s voice. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“It’s simply that I’ve never had a companion before.” She leaned close in a confidential manner. “Frankly, I’ve never really been let out of anyone’s sight before. Not that my behavior has warranted watching, mind you.” She straightened. “Which means I have no idea what we do now.”

“Oh dear. This is awkward, Miss Merryweather.” Miss West placed her cup on the table and folded her hands in her lap. “You see, I’ve never been a companion before.”

Lucy stared for a moment, then grinned. “Then this is perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Miss West’s brow rose. “Is it?”

“Oh, without question. You have no particular expectations and neither do I. I feared Jackson, Mr. Channing, would engage someone more in the manner of a watchdog than a companion, which wouldn’t have suited my purposes at all. I should have been forced to discharge you as soon as I was confident he was safely out of the country. Now we can forge our relationship as we see fit. Without definition or any particular rules.”

“Can we?” Miss West said cautiously.

“We most certainly can.” Lucy beamed. “And to start with, I insist you call me Lucy. We shall be spending a great deal of time together and I see no reason why we should waste any of it with Miss Merryweather this and Miss Merryweather that. It is a mouthful, you know. And I will call you Clara, if that’s acceptable to you.”

Clara nodded, something of a stunned look on her face.

“Wonderful. We will be great friends. Indeed, it will be just like having a sister. We do somewhat resemble each other. Why, our hair and eyes are very nearly the same color, although you are so delightfully tall and I am well”—she wrinkled her nose—“not. Although I did always hope to be tall and elegant. But when you are short and blond, you are usually described as pert or cute. People tend to look at you in the same way they look at a puppy, amusing, perhaps, but not a creature you would expect much of.” She shrugged. “Anyway, where was I?”

“I’m not sure.” Clara eyed Lucy cautiously.

“Ah yes. I was saying we’ll definitely be friends, I’m certain of that. I daresay I will need a friend. Particularly one I can share confidences and secrets with. I suppose that’s the only real, well, requirement if you will, that I have for you. I need you to keep my confidences, whatever they may be. I would like your promise to keep my secrets.”

“Yes, well, of course.” Clara’s brow furrowed. “Do you have many secrets?”

“Not yet, but I intend to,” Lucy said firmly. “I have any number of friends at home, but I have never had a truly good friend before to tell my secrets to. Nor do I have a sister, but I have always wanted one.” She knew she was talking entirely too fast, but she had the tendency to do that when she was excited, in spite of her mother’s best efforts to curb her enthusiasm. Babbling, Mother called it. But Mother wasn’t here and there was nothing more exhilarating than the feeling of freedom that had filled her the moment the doors had closed behind Jackson and his family. “I have brothers, four of them. They’re all quite tall and as charming as they are handsome. But I am the youngest in the family and the only girl, and they refuse to accept that I am no longer a child. Do you have family, Clara?”

“No.” She shook her head. “My mother died when I was very young and my father passed away a number of years ago. I lost my only brother as well a few years ago.”

“I am so sorry for your loss.” Lucy cast her a sympathetic look. “I’m not sure what I would do without my family, although they can be most annoying, and I am delighted that, at least for now, I do not have them hovering over me. My brothers are extremely protective, and they and my parents would have some sort of apoplectic fit if they realized Mr. Channing’s mother was no longer accompanying me.”

“Shouldn’t you tell them?” Clara said slowly.

“Oh, I have, more or less. I did write to them.” She waved off the question. “Admittedly, I might have been extremely vague and they might not have understood completely.” She smiled in an overly innocent manner.

Clara stared.

“You see, there are things I wish to do and I can’t do them under the watchful eyes of my family. Between my parents and my brothers and Jackson, of course, I have never really had the opportunity to do anything the least bit, oh, unexpected. I have never had a chance to be even a little independent. My life was entirely planned out for me and I have always been too well behaved to protest. For years it was assumed that Jackson and I would marry. And now Jackson has fallen in love with someone else and gone off to find his own adventures and I . . .” Once again the blissful sense of liberty washed through her. “I am free.”

“I gather you are not particularly upset that you and Mr. Channing are not going to wed.”

“Goodness, no, not in the least. In fact, Jackson and I both, through the years, found all sorts of very sound reasons to postpone an official engagement, which no one ever seemed to mind really, although admittedly, in the last year or two, my mother has been getting the tiniest bit cranky about it. After all, I am nearly twenty-four and most of the women I know who are my age have already wed and are busy producing one offspring after another. In my mother’s eyes I am perilously close to being a spinster, which distresses her but doesn’t bother me at all.”

“Don’t you wish to marry?”

“Certainly someday, but I see no need now to rush into anything that will last the rest of my life. No.” Lucy shook her head. “I am relieved for both of us and happy for Jackson that he has found someone he truly cares for even if, at the moment, they are not together. But they will be eventually. I don’t doubt that for a moment. It’s obviously true love and nothing can deny that, you know.”

“And you were not in love with him?”

“Oh, I love Jackson and I always will. But more in the manner of a friend or a brother, and not at all in the way I think one should love the man one intends to spend the rest of one’s life with.” She paused. “It took me a long time to realize that, far longer than it should have, really. I suppose I always suspected it somewhere in the back of my mind, or perhaps my heart. Probably why I never insisted on an official engagement. But I have always been a dutiful daughter and, as I said, I have always done exactly what was expected of me. Marrying Jackson was what was expected. I consider myself quite lucky that fate took a hand and pointed us both in entirely different directions.” She thought for a moment. “Jackson is the only man who has ever kissed me, and it was always very nice, but it should be more than merely nice, don’t you agree?”

“I would think so.”

“I truly believe when the right man kisses me I shall know he is the right man. Or at least I hope I will know.”

“One can’t always count on that.” Clara chose her words with care. “I was once engaged to a man I believed was the right man, but he turned out to be a disreputable scoundrel and I was well rid of him.”

“How dreadful.” Lucy studied the other woman curiously. She had never known anyone who had been engaged to a scoundrel before. Her life had certainly been sheltered up to now. “Did he break your heart? Were you in love with him?”

“I fancied I was,” Clara said slowly. “But when I discovered his true nature, I was more angry than hurt.” She smiled in a rueful manner. “So no, he did not break my heart. But he did make it far wiser.”

“I’m glad for you then. I’m afraid Jackson’s heart is a bit cracked at the moment, but as I said, I am certain it will turn out happily in the end. Still, it might take some time.” Lucy sighed. “The lady in question is an independent woman and Jackson can be extremely stubborn. I quite admire that. Oh, not being stubborn, but a woman being independent. You appear to me to be an independent woman, Clara. Are you?”

Clara bit back a smile. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean by an independent woman, and I haven’t a clue why you think I am.”

“Well, for one thing, your bearing is extremely confident and not the least bit subservient. And from your manner it’s obvious you are intelligent and educated. Your clothing is of good quality and not at all worn. It strikes me that you might not particularly need this position.” At once the answer hit her and she gasped. “Good Lord, unless you have recently fallen upon hard times? Oh dear, I should have suspected as much. I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Clara laughed. “No, I have not fallen upon hard times. And admittedly, I do not actually need this position. My finances are really quite sound. But there are few positions available for women that do not involve the care of children or the teaching of them, which I do not find at all appealing. I thought it might be rather interesting to be the companion of a young American. I am twenty-nine years of age and the possibility of marriage grows slimmer every day. I’d much prefer to be doing something with my life rather than sitting around waiting for some gentleman to decide to make me his wife. That does not suit me at all.”

“See?” Lucy beamed. “I knew you were an independent woman.”

“I have never really considered myself in that manner but I suppose I am, at that.”

“Oh, we shall get along famously, Clara. I am so delighted that you are here. You can’t imagine the type of companion I expected Jackson would find for me.” She shuddered at the very thought.

“A watchdog you could discharge the moment Mr. Channing was safely out of the country,” Clara said wryly.

“Exactly.” Lucy grinned. “I’m so glad you understand. I have no intentions of allowing anyone to tell me what I may or may not do. Not anymore,” she said firmly. “I am an adult, Clara, even if no one has realized that. I have my own resources, my own ambitions as it were, and I am much more intelligent than people, even my family, assume as well, but then no one suspects pert may well hide a fairly clever mind.”

“I suppose not.”

“Believe me, no one expects blond curls and a cheery disposition to conceal anything other than fluff and nonsense and frivolity. Which has actually served me well in the past. Now, however, I am at a crossroads in my life and I find it all quite exciting. Even the fact that I don’t entirely know what will happen next is exhilarating, although I do have something of a plan. But we will get to that later.” Lucy cast the other woman her brightest smile. “I should apologize. I have gone on and on and scarcely given you a moment to get a word in. Surely you have some questions for me. About the position or, well, something?”

“Well . . .” Clara thought for a moment. “I was told the position was not permanent, no more than a few months at the most. Is that because you plan to return to your own country?”

“I don’t plan on it, but I’m afraid that’s what’s going to happen. At some point my family will realize I am here alone and someone will be sent to drag me home. I have no idea how much time I have, but I should have at least six or eight weeks and hopefully longer.” She drew her brows together. “I’m not sure what will happen then. I’ve never defied my family’s wishes before and I’m not certain I have the courage to do so now. I suppose it all depends on what happens between now and then.”

“You are at a crossroads, after all.”