The Disgraceful Mr. Ravenhurst Read online

  ‘One has to live, Aunt Louisa.’ He smiled at her. Elinor noticed her mother’s lips purse; he had almost seduced an answering smile out of her. ‘My parents, no doubt rightly, feel that at the age of twenty-seven I should be gainfully employed and cut off my allowance some time ago.’

  ‘But trade! There are any number of perfectly eligible professions for the grandson of the Duke of Allington.’

  ‘My father has informed me that I enter the church over his dead body. It is also his opinion that I was born to be hanged and therefore a career in the law is ineligible. I find I have a fixed objection to killing people unless absolutely necessary, which eliminates the army and the navy.’

  ‘Politics? The government?’ Elinor suggested, smiling as much at her mother’s expression as Theo’s catalogue of excuses.

  ‘I am also allergic to humbug.’

  Lady James ignored this levity. ‘What sort of trade?’

  ‘Art and antiquities. I find I have a good eye. I prefer the small and the portable, of course.’

  ‘Why of course?’ Careless of deportment, Elinor twisted round on her seat to face him fully.

  ‘It is easier to get an emerald necklace or a small enamelled reliquary past a customs post or over a mountain pass than a twelve-foot canvas or six foot of marble nude on a plinth.’ The twinkle in his eyes invited her to share in his amusement at the picture he conjured up.

  ‘You are involved in smuggling?’ his aunt asked sharply.

  ‘In the aftermath of the late wars, there is a great deal of what might be loosely described as art knocking about the Continent, and not all of it has a clear title. Naturally, if it sparkles, then government officials want it.’ Theo shrugged. ‘I prefer to keep it and sell it on myself, or act as an agent for a collector.’

  ‘And there is a living to be made from it?’ Elinor persisted, ignoring her mother’s look that said quite clearly that ladies did not discuss money, smuggling or trade.

  ‘So my banker tells me; he appears moderately impressed by my endeavours.’

  ‘So what are you doing here?’ Lady James demanded. ‘Scavenging?’

  Theo winced, but his tone was still amiable as he replied, ‘I believe there is an artefact of interest in the neighbourhood. I am investigating.’

  There was more to it than that, Elinor decided with a sudden flash of insight. The smile had gone from his eyes and there was the faintest edge to the deep, lazy voice. The coolness inside her was warming up into something very like curiosity. She felt more alive than she had for months.

  ‘Where are you staying, Cousin Theo?’ she asked before her mother insisted upon more details of his quest, details that he was most unlikely to want to tell her. Once Mama got wind of a secret, she would worry it like a terrier with a rat.

  ‘I’ve lodgings down in St Père.’ Elinor had wanted to visit the village at the foot of the Vezelay hill, huddling beneath the towering spire of its elaborate church. She would have enjoyed a stroll along the river in its gentle green valley, but Lady James had dismissed the church as being of a late period and less important to her studies than the hilltop basilica. They could visit it later, she had decreed.

  ‘Rooms over the local dressmaker’s shop, in fact. There’s a decent enough inn in the village for meals.’

  And now he is explaining too much. Why Elinor seemed to be attuned to the undertones in what he said, while her mother appeared not to be, was a mystery to her. Perhaps there was some kind of cousinly connection. She found herself watching him closely and then was disconcerted when he met her gaze and winked.

  ‘Well, you may as well make yourself useful while you are here, Theophilus. Elinor has a great deal to do for me and she can certainly use your assistance.’

  ‘But, Mama,’ Elinor interjected, horrified, ‘Cousin Theo has his own business to attend to. I can manage perfectly well without troubling him.’

  Her cousin regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment, then smiled. ‘It would be a pleasure. In what way may I assist?’

  ‘You may escort her to St Père to make some sketches in the church there. I will review your preliminary drawings of the capitals tomorrow, Elinor, and see what needs further detailed work. I doubt St Père will prove of interest, but you may as well eliminate it rather than waste a day.’

  ‘Yes, Mama.’

  Theo watched Elinor, puzzled. Where was the assertive young woman from the basilica? It was as though the presence of her mother sucked all the individuality and spark out of his cousin. Sitting there, hands neatly folded in her lap, clad in a slate-grey gown that might have been designed to remove all the colour from her face and disguise whatever figure she might possess, she looked like the model for a picture of a dowdy spinster. He had been flattering her when he made the remark about her age when they last met; she looked every bit the twenty-five she admitted to.

  He reviewed his agreement to take her to St Père. Was there any danger? No, not yet. It was probably too early for his client to have become restless over the non-appearance of his goods and, so far as he was aware, none of the opposition had yet appeared on the scene. If they had and he was being watched, escorting his cousin would be a useful smokescreen.

  ‘At what time would you like me to collect you and your maid?’ he enquired.

  ‘Maid? There is no need for that,’ his aunt rejoined briskly. ‘We are in the middle of the French countryside and you are her cousin. Why should Elinor require chaperonage?’

  He saw the faintest tightening of Elinor’s lips and realised that she was sensitive to the unspoken assumption behind that assertion—that she was not attractive enough to attract undesirable attention.

  ‘I will walk down the hill, Cousin, at whatever time suits you,’ she offered. ‘There is no need for you to toil all the way up, simply to escort me.’

  That was probably true; she seemed to know her way around the large village well enough, and it was a respectable and safe place. But he felt an impulse to treat her with more regard than she obviously expected to receive.

  ‘I will collect you here at ten, if that is not too early. The weather is fine; I have no doubt the inn can provide a luncheon we can eat outside. The interior is not really fit for a lady.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Her smile lit up her face and Theo found himself smiling back. Those freckles dancing across her nose really were rather endearing. If only her hair was not scraped back into that hideous snood or whatever it was called. ‘You will not mind if I am out all day, Mama?’

  ‘No, I will not need you,’ Lady James said, confirming Theo’s opinion that she regarded her daughter in the light of an unpaid skivvy. Her other children, his cousins Simon and Anne, had escaped their mother’s eccentricities by early and good marriages. His late uncle, Lord James, had been a quiet and unassuming man. Theo’s father, the Bishop, had been heard to remark at the funeral that his brother could have been dead for days before anyone noticed the difference.

  Elinor was obviously fated to become the typical unwed daughter, dwindling into middle age at her mother’s side. Although not many mothers were scholars of international repute as well as selfish old bats, he reflected.

  She might be a dowdy young woman, and have a sharp tongue on the subject of male failings, but he found he was pleased to have come across her. Sometimes life was a little lonely—when no one was trying to kill him, rob him or swindle him—and contact with the family was pleasant.

  ‘Is there any news from home?’ he enquired.

  ‘When did you last hear? I suppose you know about Sebastian and his Grand Duchess?’ He nodded. He had been in Venice at the time, pleasurably negotiating the purchase of a diamond necklace from a beautiful and highly unprincipled contessa. But even on the Rialto the gossip about his cousin Lord Sebastian Ravenhurst’s improbable marriage to the Grand Duchess of Maubourg was common currency. He had even glimpsed them together on one of his fleeting and rare visits to London, while their stormy courtship was still a secret.

&nbs
p; ‘And Belinda has married again, to Lord Dereham.’

  Now what was there in that to make Elinor’s lips twitch? he wondered. ‘Yes, I had heard about that, too. I met Gareth and his new wife in Paris and they told me.’

  ‘Your cousins are all settling down in a most satisfactory manner,’ his aunt pronounced. ‘You should do the same, Theophilus.’

  ‘Should I find a lady willing to share my way of life, then I would be delighted to, Aunt. But so far I have not discovered one.’

  ‘Really? I wonder if perhaps the ladies who were willing were among the reasons your parents disapprove of your way of life,’ Elinor murmured with shocking frankness, so straight-faced he knew she had her tongue firmly in her cheek. She had a sense of humour, did she, his dowdy cousin?

  ‘They would most certain disapprove if I wanted to marry one of them! Perhaps you will be a good influence upon me,’ he countered. ‘Having heard a little of your views on male moral decadence, I am sure you can guide me.’

  Fortunately his aunt was too busy ringing for the maid to notice this exchange. Theo refused the offer of tea, which he was assured had been brought from England in order to ensure there need be no recourse to inferior foreign supplies, and took his leave. ‘Until tomorrow, Cousin.’ He smiled a little at the heap of sketching gear and scholarly tomes in the hall; yes, this would prove an undemanding way to pass the time until all hell broke loose.

  Chapter Two

  Theo was conscious of a familiar presence behind him as he made his way down the steep hill, but the follower at his heels made no move to speak to him until they reached the square at the bottom where the gig was waiting.

  ‘Picking up ladies again?’ the other man said, swinging up beside him as Theo guided the horse out and down the St Père road. ‘Not your usual style, that one. Dowdy little hen. Still, expect she’ll be grateful for the attention. Got some trinkets to sell do you reckon?’

  ‘That little hen is my cousin Miss Ravenhurst, so keep your tongue between your teeth and your light fingers off her trinkets,’ Theo said mildly.

  ‘Right. Sorry, guv’nor.’

  He allowed Jake Hythe, his groom, factotum, valet and right-hand man, a long leash, but he knew that one word was enough to ensure obedience. When you rescue a man from a well-deserved place on the gallows it tended to ensure an uncommon degree of devotion.

  ‘And keep an eye on her, if you see her about,’ he added. ‘Her mother’s mighty careless of her.’

  ‘As if it was your own self,’ Hythe assured him. The man had killed before now to protect Theo’s back—it was to be hoped for their own sakes that no local bucks attempted any familiarities with Elinor while he was around. ‘There’s no sign of them at their place on the hill,’ he added cryptically, jerking his head back towards Vezelay. ‘I reckon you’re going to have to get yourself invited to the chateau. How are you going to do that, then?’

  There were, perhaps, advantages to having interfering, overbearing and well-connected aunts. Theo smiled to himself. ‘Do you think the Comte de Beaumartin would like my aunt, the daughter-in-law of the Duke of Allington, as a houseguest?’ he enquired. ‘Because I believe I am going to engineer a meeting.’

  ‘Cunning bastard,’ his companion said, in a voice of deepest respect. ‘You always thinks of something.’

  Elinor was ready and waiting, opening the door the moment Theo laid his hand on the knocker. ‘I was watching for you to make sure you didn’t knock. Mama is deep in a letter to the Antiquarian Society, disputing claims of the Reverend Anthony’s about the development of the ogival arch, and must not be disturbed.’

  ‘Good God,’ he said faintly as he took her easel and satchel. ‘Ogival arches? Doesn’t it drive you insane?’

  ‘Not often.’ Elinor shut the door quietly behind them and fell into step beside him, not pretending to misunderstand. ‘Compared to being the companion to some old lady with a smelly lap dog in Bath, or being a general dogsbody for my sister and her six interesting children, it is a positively desirable existence.

  ‘I get to use my brain and what creative skills I possess. I can read five languages you know, including Ancient Greek. And I have a remarkable degree of freedom. In fact,’ she pondered, ducking under a pole with washing on it that protruded into the street, ‘I probably wouldn’t have this degree of freedom until I was in my forties under any other circumstances. Unless I was a widow, of course. But one has to be married first for that.’

  Theo did not reply immediately. Elinor glanced up at him. Today he was dressed in buckskins and boots, a broad-brimmed straw hat on his head. He looked far less English and considerably more formidable for some reason.

  It seemed to her that the relaxed, polite and slightly deprecatory young man in the parlour yesterday had been an act. All the Ravenhursts were good actors—there was a family joke that there must have been a scandalous actress in the family tree at some point in the past—perhaps in his line of business that was a useful ability.

  ‘Mama is a very considerable scholar, you know,’ she added. ‘It is not as though I am spending my time pandering to some pointless pastime. And it is better than sitting at home being a meek wife to some self-important gentleman who thinks women have no role except as mothers and housekeepers.’

  ‘That is not the sort of marriage I imagine our three cousins have lately embarked upon,’ Theo observed, fielding a ball aimed inexpertly at him by a small boy. He tossed it back, making sure it was catchable.

  ‘No. Those are real love matches. Marriages of equals, I truly believe.’ Elinor shrugged. ‘It was extraordinary luck for them, I suppose.’

  ‘Then you do not have much faith in men, Cousin, if you find three happy marriages extraordinary. But I gathered that up at the basilica yesterday.’

  ‘Some of you are perfectly all right,’ Elinor said with a smile. ‘I suspect men are as much a victim of society as women are; it is just that you seem to have much more fun. Look at you, for example—all over the Continent chasing antiquities and having adventures, I dare say. Just imagine what would happen if I tried it.’

  Theo gave a snort of amusement. ‘It is a dangerous world out there. Even your valiant parasol would not be much protection.’ There were more weapons in her armoury than the sharp ferrule of a sensible sunshade, but Elinor did not judge it prudent to reveal them. Under his unconventional exterior her cousin could well turn out to as easily shocked as most men.

  ‘Here we are.’ He led the way to a neat gig drawn up in the shade of a lime tree and helped her to climb up, stowing the easel and the rest of her paraphernalia under the seat. ‘Would you like to drive?’

  ‘I’ve never tried.’ No man had ever suggested such a thing and she found herself quite taken aback. But Theo did not appear to be joking; he sat with the reins in his hands, the horse standing quietly, tail flicking against the irritation of the early summer flies.

  ‘I’ll show you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Warily she held out her left hand and allowed him to arrange the reins in it. To her relief he kept hold of the whip.

  ‘Now, say walk on.’

  ‘In English?’

  ‘It appears to be bilingual.’

  Elinor laughed, then stopped abruptly as the animal, obviously hearing the command in Theo’s more familiar voice, set off towards the lower road. ‘Ah! What do I do?’

  ‘Nothing. Keep contact with its mouth and wait until we need to turn off. Just relax.’ He seemed very relaxed himself, for a man who had handed over control of his vehicle to a complete amateur. The horse seemed relaxed too, as did the entire local population of dogs, chickens and small children who might have been expected to rush out and cause the creature to bolt, throwing them both into the ditch and killing them.

  Elinor decided it was unfair that she was the only tense one. ‘So why, exactly, are you so in disgrace?’ she asked.

  ‘Nameless sins,’ Theo said with a sinister smile.

  ‘I refuse to believe it. Tell me.’ />
  ‘Very well. By the time I was sixteen I was disappearing over the school wall every night, bent on a ruinous course of drink, wenching and gaming.’

  ‘And were you ruined?’ He did not appear very dissipated—not that she was too certain what a rakehell looked like.

  ‘Morally? Undoubtedly. Financially, not one whit, which was what, I suspect, most infuriated my father. I was buying and selling even then. Buy from one dealer, sell to another. Scavenge around market stalls and pawn shops, clean things up and sell them on to the right person. I found early that I had an aptitude for cards and I was happy to take payment in objects, not coin. By the time I was sent down from university for running a faro school, I was able to support myself financially.’

  ‘I can quite see why that made the Bishop so cross. You should have gone creeping home, all penitence and desperate for him to keep up your allowance and instead you—Ooh! Where is it going?’

  ‘It knows the short cut.’ To her alarm Theo left the reins in her hand as the horse turned off the road and began to amble along a track. ‘Yes, I came home, announced my independence and I have been living off my wits ever since. I go home occasionally to give Papa the pleasure of delivering a thundering good lecture and for Mama to fuss over the state of my linen and to try to find a nice young lady for me.’

  ‘Without success?’

  Theo grinned. ‘I run a mile in one direction at the thought of all those simpering misses while their mamas are sending them running in the other direction to escape my polluting influence.’

  ‘Aren’t you ever lonely?’ She had become so lulled by his relaxed manner and lazily amused smile that the question escaped her before she could catch it.

  ‘Lonely?’ The amusement vanished from his eyes, although the smile stayed on his lips. ‘Certainly not. Remember all those willing ladies you mentioned yesterday? And what about you? Aren’t you lonely?’

  ‘With all those fascinating antiquarian meetings to go to?’ Elinor responded lightly. It was no business of hers how Theo lived his life or whether or not he was truly happy. She could not imagine what had come over her to loosen her tongue so.