The Disgraceful Mr. Ravenhurst Read online

  At two in the morning Theo watched Elinor as she walked softly along the passageway in front of him, a lantern in her hand. They had decided to go the longer way to the chamber, the way she had gone with Leon in the afternoon, rather than risk opening an external door into the courtyard in the dark.

  He had spent the rest of the afternoon balancing on stepladders holding measuring rods, while his aunt tried to make the dimensions of the chapel fit some mathematical formula dreamt up by a scholar whom Theo had no trouble stigmatising as being as daft as a coot. She had failed, something that appeared to give her great satisfaction, and had dismissed him until dinner, leaving him ample time to brood over what, exactly, was the right word to describe Elinor now.

  She never had been plain, he had realised, his soup spoon halfway to his mouth during the first course, just smothered by drab colours and scraped-back hair and a life of dull regularity. Like the uncut gemstone he had likened her to, or perhaps a painting, languishing under layer after layer of ancient varnish.

  The countess addressed a question to him and he answered her, half of his mind still on Elinor. Then it came to him as he saw her turn, laughing at something Sir Ian had said, her face lit up with amusement and intelligence and the lovely line of her upper body silhouetted against the baronet’s dark evening coat. Comely, that was the word. And she always would be, even in old age, he realised, finding he was smiling.

  He was still thinking about that revelation as he followed her into the hall, his eyes on the pool of light cast at her feet by the dark lantern. Distracted, he bumped into a chest. The sharp edge dug into his thigh, the lid lifted and banged down with a loud thud that seemed to echo round the great hall. He stopped, cursing under his breath and rubbing his leg.

  ‘Does it hurt?’ Elinor came back and held up the light to see.

  ‘Damned chest.’ The long-case clock they were standing next to chimed the half-hour, making her jump. ‘We had better get a move on.’ Elinor nodded, lifted the light and turned. ‘Wait!’

  ‘What?’ She came back and looked where he was pointing. The great tapestry hung from floor to ceiling. It was in poor condition, moth-eaten and dusty from long years hanging close to the fireplace, but it was possible to make out that it showed the Chateau of Beaumartin in an earlier age. Around the borders were trails of vines, hunting scenes, vignettes of harvest and feasting. And in the middle of the left-hand border, the image of a chalice, half-hidden by a drapery.

  ‘Is that it?’ Elinor put the lantern on a side table by the sofa that stood in front of the tapestry and climbed up onto the upholstered seat. ‘I can’t see very clearly.’

  ‘It is the right general outline. It doesn’t show the detail, of course—that would probably scorch a hole in the fabric.’ He could remember the effort it had taken not to react when the late count had finally taken the thing out of its case and handed it to him and he was able to study it for the first time. He had thought himself sophisticated and had been astonished to find himself shocked, enlightened and shamefully aroused, all at once.

  Theo joined Elinor on the sofa seat, making it dip and forcing her to clutch at his sleeve to steady herself. ‘If I lift this edge away from the wall, can you shine the light behind and see if you can see any kind of wall cupboard or opening?’

  It took some doing. The tapestry was heavy, and without moving the weighty sofa, it was difficult to pull away from the wall. Sneezing from the dust, Elinor managed to get both the lantern and her head into the gap he created.

  ‘Nothing, just smooth wall.’

  ‘Good—I did not relish trying to drag this sofa out and then get it back in the right spot,’ he said with some relief, helping her tuck the rucked tapestry back down behind the high upholstered back again.

  It was smooth at last, and the two of them panting with the effort of doing it while balancing on the squashy and rather mobile cushions, when Theo froze. ‘Someone’s coming.’

  It was just on the edge of his hearing, but it was definitely movement, the sound of someone trying to be quiet, and coming from the direction they had entered from. ‘Hell, where can we hide?’

  The heavily shadowed hall stretched out before them, singularly free of tables with heavy cloths over, cupboards or windows with floor-length curtains. It was quiet again. Theo had just decided he was imagining things when the door at the far end burst open.

  It was too late to run—there was nowhere to conceal themselves. Theo fell on to the sofa, pulling Elinor down into his arms. ‘Kiss me.’

  He saw her grasp his intentions as fast as he spoke. With a ruthless hand she pulled open the top three buttons on her old gown, scattering them, then attacked the neck of his shirt. By the time he had her flat on her back his shirt was open to the waist and her hair was tumbling out of its pins.

  It sounded as though half the village had erupted into the room. Theo sat up, pulled Elinor protectively against his chest and demanded, ‘What the hell is going on?’

  It might not have been the village, but it was certainly the entire house party, hastily bundled into night robes, candles in hand. ‘I might ask you the same thing, Ravenhurst,’ the count retorted, stepping in front of his mother and Julie as though to shield them from the shocking sight.

  To one side Lady Tracey put her hands over her mouth and her husband appeared to be fighting the desire to laugh. Laure and Antoinette were agog, their hair in curling papers, their eyes wide at the sheer, wonderful, horror of what was occurring. From the shadows Ana looked on, smiling. When he caught her eye, she licked her lips like a cat delicately relishing a mouse she had just eaten

  ‘Theophilus!’ It had been too much to hope that Aunt Louisa was absent from this mob. ‘What do you think you are doing?’

  ‘I should have thought that all too obvious, madame,’ the countess interjected in freezing tones.

  ‘We were going outside. For a walk. But I am afraid our passion got the better of us before we got to the door,’ Theo said, improvising rapidly in an attempt to come up with a convincing story. Crushed beneath him, he could feel Elinor shift. He tried to take some his weight off her without standing up. The image he wanted firmly in everyone’s mind was one of lovers caught in flagrante, not of two people dressed to be creeping about the chateau on some clandestine errand. And the warm curves pressed against him were decidedly inspiring. ‘Aunt Louisa, I had hoped to speak to you about this before now, but I fully intend—’

  ‘You most certainly do,’ she said. There was something in her tone that alerted him. She was not reacting as he expected her to. The others would not notice, they did not know her. But Theo knew that he could have expected to have been hauled off the sofa by his ear while she sent for a pair of blunt scissors, not subjected to a quelling stare down her imposing nose and utter, chilly, calm. ‘You will attend me in my room at once. Both of you.’ She turned to regard the others. ‘Thank you, Count. I am sure there is nothing here to keep anyone else from their beds.’

  Theo stood up and turned his back on the room, giving Elinor time to compose herself a little while the sounds of the retreating party diminished. Finally the door shut. She looked up at him, her face white. ‘Theo, she is going to say I am compromised and insist—’ Her fingers fumbled with the bodice of her gown and she looked up again. ‘I do not want to marry you, Theo.’

  ‘You don’t?’ He did not want to marry her, either, of course he didn’t. The last thing he needed was a wife. But it shook him to realise his spinster cousin was just as adamantly unwilling to wed him. Coxcomb he jeered a himself for his reaction. You are hardly God’s gift as a husband, are you? A red-headed adventurer in disgrace with his family? Sensible woman. ‘All right, we will tell her the truth.’ And that would be an act as courageous as any he had ever performed, explaining to his formidable aunt that he was involving her daughter in a perilous search for a pornographic artefact.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘What on earth were they all doing here?’ Elinor asked, follow
ing Theo along the corridor as he tried to restore his shirt to some kind of order.

  ‘I haven’t the slightest idea—that damnable trunk lid banging down did not make so much noise it would rouse them from sleep, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Well, they were hardly likely to all be up recreating one of the famous orgies,’ she said, shakily attempting humour. ‘Not with Mama there. Can you imagine?’

  ‘That was an image I am going to regret you placing in my imagination,’ he said with feeling as they reached Lady James’s door. ‘Ready, Nell?’ Elinor put back her shoulders and shook her hair out of her eyes. She felt as though she was going to face a firing squad.

  ‘Ready.’

  Mama was seated at her writing desk, her chair half-turned so she could scrutinise them as they came to stand in front of her. She did not ask them to sit down. ‘Well, Theophilus?’

  ‘I can explain, Aunt.’ He did not appear either cowed or abashed by the situation. ‘But first, tell me—how the dev—how on earth did everyone come to be in the hall at this hour of the night?’

  ‘Those two idiotic girls decided it would be fun to creep around the chateau after dark in search of the Gothic horrors Elinor was foolish enough to speak of. They are addicted to sensation novels, it appears. They heard a loud bang as they approached the hall, assumed it was burglars—or a headless fiend, they are confused on that point—and rushed back, hammering on everyone’s door and shrieking the place down.

  ‘Normally I would have allowed the search to take place without me—most irrational and foolish, it merely needed the count to summon his male staff to search for the intruders. However, I was surprised to see neither of you coming out in response to the racket and looked in your rooms. Expecting the worst, I joined the group.’

  ‘Mama, it was not what it seemed—’ Elinor began.

  ‘Nell.’ Theo took her arm and guided her to one of the wing chairs by the fireside. ‘I’ll explain, you sit down.’ She could not help but feel it was feeble of her to obey him. They had both got into this mess, she should be standing up to Mama at his side. But he looked cool and very confident and the smile he gave her was reassuring. Perhaps he could manage Mama better than she could.

  He turned the other chair to face his aunt and sat down, uninvited. It was a good start—if she thought he was standing there to be carpeted like a naughty schoolboy, she was much mistaken.

  ‘I have involved Elinor, and you, in an assault, a theft and a murder,’ he began. The full frontal attack had the desired effect: Lady James’s eyebrows rose, she reached for her eyeglass, but she did not speak. ‘It began when I was commissioned to negotiate for the purchase of a unique, and utterly indecent, piece of precious metalwork…

  ‘…and if you think I, or any other man, can stop your daughter when she decides to involve herself in something, then I am afraid you are much mistaken, Aunt,’ he finished half an hour later.

  Elinor could sense that Theo was making himself sit still in the silence that followed. Her mother looked at Elinor through her eyeglass, then turned it on Theo. ‘I collect you two do not wish to marry?’ she said calmly.

  ‘No, Mama, I—’

  ‘No, we do not.’ Lady James opened her mouth to utter her next question, but he answered it before she could speak. ‘Nor is there any pressing reason why we must. That scene in the hall was pure theatre.’ He was, Elinor thought blankly, extremely convincing.

  ‘Indeed? I am relieved to hear it.’ She let the eyeglass dangle on its black cord and watched it swing for a moment or two while Elinor contemplated her toes and wondered just how crimson she was blushing. ‘It would be prudent, I believe, to allow the impression that you are now betrothed. You will no doubt suffer considerable embarrassment for the remainder of your stay here, which I can only say is your just desserts. Once we are back in England, no more need be said—no one here moves in the same circles as we do.’

  She waited, apparently for them to comment, then added with a certain malicious relish, ‘It will certainly put your mistress’s nose out of joint, Theophilus.’

  ‘Mama!’

  ‘Don’t be mealy mouthed, Elinor. That unprincipled creature is one reason I was quite confident that Theophilus’s amatory inclinations were directed elsewhere and not towards you.’

  Had anyone ever tried to strangle the old witch? Theo wondered. But say what you might about her adder tongue, her attitude was an enormous relief. Or it should be. He was feeling unaccountably flat, but that, no doubt, was due to the shock of what had just occurred. Somehow he had been braced for an argument about marrying Elinor.

  ‘Mama, Theo must find this Chalice or repay Lord X a great deal of money,’ Elinor said, cutting across his musings. ‘Even then, if he does not get the Chalice, there is no knowing what Lord X might do.’ Lady James’s gaze came up to scrutinise his bruised face.

  ‘I did not suggest you stop looking for it,’ she said. Theo’s jaw dropped before he shut his mouth with a snap. Most of the time he felt confident he was in command of himself and of the situation—encounters with his aunt were a definite exception. ‘One cannot allow murder and theft to go unpunished. As for his lordship, I suggest you tell me his name, Theophilus. I have powerful friends.’

  ‘I do not break my clients’ confidentiality,’ he said, wishing he could in this instance. Goodness knows what, or who, Lady James Ravenhurst could summon to her aid if she wanted revenge upon someone. He shuddered to think, imagining a blood-crazed mob of Greek scholars pelting his lordship with heavy tomes.

  ‘I intend helping Theo,’ Elinor said firmly. He turned in the chair and smiled at her. Her chin was up and she was looking determined, despite the dark shadows under her eyes. He lov…He admired her courage.

  ‘Of course,’ Lady James said, startling them both. ‘We are Ravenhursts, we do not abandon each other in times of trouble. However, I warn you, if she is harmed in any way, Theo, I will have your hide. Now, off to bed, both of you. I have work to do in the morning.’

  ‘She called you Theo,’ Elinor whispered as they stood outside in the corridor looking rather blankly at each other.

  ‘I think we’re dreaming,’ Theo said, shaking his head. Elinor was still looking at him, the frown line between her brows furrowed. ‘And don’t do that.’ He reached out and smoothed it with his thumb. ‘Remember what your mother says about frowning.’ Her skin was warm and soft and he ran the ball of his thumb along one arching eyebrow, feeling the elegant vault of the bone beneath. ‘Goodnight, Nell.’

  ‘Goodnight, Theophilus,’ she said, suddenly grinning at him. ‘I had better learn to address my betrothed with suitable deference.’ She was through the door before he could respond, although he thought he could hear her chuckle, floating behind her on the air.

  Coming down to breakfast required a considerable amount of courage. The flash of amusement that had made her tease Theo evaporated as soon as she was alone in her room, leaving Elinor to toss and turn all night, alternately turning hot and cold with embarrassment.

  It had never, ever, occurred to her that she might find herself compromised. Before Theo, men had not wanted to be alone with her for any other reason than to prose on about their translation from the Greek, to argue with her about Mama’s latest controversial paper or occasionally to tell her at great length how miserable they were because their suit of some lady was not prospering.

  Now—post-Theo—she did at least have the confidence that she looked well enough, and he had seemed to enjoy kissing her. But that they might find themselves caught, apparently locked in a passionate embrace…Every time her churning imagination presented her with the image of how they must have looked, she curled up tighter in bed and buried her head further into the pillows.

  For some reason their exposure that night in a sham, and relatively mild, situation, was worrying her far more than the risk they had run kissing passionately—and very genuinely—in the study when they had been so nearly caught.

  At this point Elinor
got out of bed and began to prowl up and down, unable to lie still any longer. Her feelings in the study had been fuelled by ignorance, and the disorientation caused by the havoc Theo had wrought on her body and her emotions. This time they had been caught, and the appearance was everything. And it had just been appearance. He had been pretending; yet for her, even in the middle of that confusion and embarrassment, she had revelled in the feel of his hard body, his quick thinking, the instinctive way he had shielded her.

  If Mama had insisted he marry her! She tried to imagine being married to someone she loved and who did not want to be married to her. It was too ghastly to contemplate. Ruin was infinitely preferable—after all, how much worse off would she be in disgrace than she had been before she bumped into Theo in the basilica?

  Pride made her pinch her cheeks when she looked in the mirror in the morning and she sent Jeanie off to find rice powder to cover the shadows under her eyes. It was hard to find a manner pitched between shamefaced and brazen when she found the entire party gathered in the breakfast parlour, all apparently determined to make their meal last as long as possible in the hope that the errant couple would make an appearance together.

  Theo, deep in conversation with Sir Ian on the subject of horses, got to his feet when she entered, walked to her side and kissed her cheek. ‘Courage,’ he whispered before turning and leading her to the chair beside his. ‘Good morning, Elinor.’

  Laure and Antoinette were staring. Elinor smiled warmly at them, making both drop their eyes to their plates in confusion, then extended the smile to take in the rest of the table. ‘I am so sorry we disturbed you all last night, but I know you will all be happy for us—we are betrothed.’

  That at least had the effect of taking the wind out of their sails. If they thought she was going to creep around, blushing and humiliated, they had another think coming. Elinor gazed up at Theo and tried to look like a woman in love. It was apparently more convincing than she expected. Lady Tracey gave a sentimental sigh, Mademoiselle Julie looked pleased—presumably because she would no longer take any notice of Leon—and even the countess’s severe expression softened somewhat.