‘Cassian,’ the Duke said, yet again. ‘What we need is a respectable married woman who will take you in and be ready to swear you have been staying with her these past days. You left that note and ran to her house – we’ll say she’s an old friend. And you can stay with her while we instruct a lawyer who will look into your case, or at worst fend off Sir James until you come of age.’
‘I do see that would be marvellous,’ Miss Beaumont said politely. ‘Do you happen to know any such lady?’
‘My cousin Louisa. She lives perhaps six miles from here.’
‘Oh! Really? But are you sure she’ll agree to that, if she is a respectable woman?’
‘She is a very respectable woman indeed, married to a successful solicitor, and she has the soul of a pirate. Shall we pay a call?’
Miss Beaumont clasped her hands, face alight, then something changed in her features. ‘Wait. You are very kind, to offer that, but why would you?’
‘Because you are in a deal of trouble, and it appears to be my role to help you out of it. You can’t expect me to sayI’m sorry to hear itand leave you in trouble.’
‘You could,’ Miss Beaumont pointed out. ‘Lots of peoplewould. Almost everyone, actually. And, Mr Cassian, I don’t at all wish to offend you, or to make unfair implications, but I also don’t wish you to have the wrong idea just because I have happened to elope with two gentlemen already. I think I have learned my lesson.’
‘Good. And, if I may reciprocate your frankness, I have no designs on your person, your hand, or your money,’ the Duke said firmly. ‘I am very well breeched on my own account, I doubt you and I would suit, and my affections are already and entirely given elsewhere. In fact, I must beg you to take the greatest pains to avoid any possible imputation of impropriety. We will travel by the public stage.’
She gave him a glowing look, apparently believing the precaution was for her benefit rather than his. Call it both, the Duke thought. ‘Thank you. That is exceedingly gentlemanly.’
Chapter Fourteen
Miss Beaumont’s courage lasted until they arrived at Louisa’s house. The Duke’s was faltering a little too. It was evening, and Louisa might well look askance at his arrival. It couldn’t be helped.
A maid answered the door. Mrs Kentridge, wife to a country solicitor, lived in significantly less magnificence than had Miss Louisa Crosse, grand-daughter to Severn, but from all the Duke had seen, she was blissfully happy in her provincial surrounds.
‘Please tell Mrs Kentridge it is her cousin Sev,’ the Duke said, hoping the maid wouldn’t make the connection. She apparently did not, escorting him and Miss Beaumont in without much ceremony, and they waited in the drawing room until Louisa entered, wearing a very wary look.
‘Good eve—’ she began, and then, ‘Sev! It is you! What on earth?’
‘Hello, Louisa.’ The Duke jumped up and kissed her soundly on the cheek. ‘I told your maid your cousin Sev: did she not say so?’
‘She said exactly that, and I assumed she’d run mad. Is this to do with your absurd wager? Yes, I have heard all about it. But good heavens, I beg your pardon,’ she added, casting an assessing eye over Miss Beaumont. ‘Sev, you will surely introduce your companion?’
‘Miss Eliza Beaumont, Mrs Louisa Kentridge.’ The ladiesexchanged bows. Miss Beaumont was now bright red. ‘Miss Beaumont is a friend of mine who has suffered a misfortune.’
‘Misfortune,’ Louisa repeated.
‘Yes. In fact I have come to ask if she can stay.’
‘Stay . . . with us?’
‘With you.’
Louisa looked at her, then at him, and inhaled deeply. It was very like the way Uncle Hugo inhaled before explosion, and the Duke cut her off in some haste. ‘Pray listen. Miss Beaumont has been through a shocking time, and she is in grave need of help. I require a respectable matron of unimpeachable virtue to stand for her, and an excellent lawyer to fight for her. So I came here. She has been shockingly treated.’
‘I dare say. It is quite amazing how many pretty young ladies are shockingly treated and require the help of susceptible young men,’ Louisa said, with a decided chill in her voice.
Miss Beaumont made a stifled noise. The Duke said, ‘Louisa, that is grossly unfair. You know very well that I am not susceptible, and you know nothing of Miss Beaumont at all. I quite agree this situation is unconventional but I am trying to make it conventional as quickly as possible, for the sake of a lady. I hope that you will help me.’
She did not look to be in helpful mood. ‘This seems scarcely appropriate.’
‘Indeed, it is not,’ the Duke said. ‘But I am not bringing immorality into your house and I am sorry you should think that of me.’
‘I should not make any such accusation,’ Louisa informed him loftily. ‘So what precisely are you bringing into my house?’
‘It’s a long story which I shall tell you presently, but—’ He needed the big guns. ‘Harum-scarum, Lou.’
It was the term they had used as children, the one that commanded utter loyalty in the teeth of authority. A call ofHarum-scarum!obliged the hearer to tell barefaced lies (‘No, I have not seen Louisa anywhere. Is it really time for her piano lesson?’), or take any measure necessary to support the caller. Leo had invoked harum-scarum on the never-to-be-sufficiently-bemoaned-by-Uncle-Hugo occasion they’d decided it was necessary to walk round the complete span of the castle atop the battlements, and the Duke had even claimed it was his idea when retribution descended.
