A Dark Gentleman Read online

  Looking slightly amused Jack handed over his beaver and capes and turning to Sarah took his leave.

  ‘Now what can I do for you France.’

  The butler watched Sarah ascend the stairs with Betsy in tow, then taking Jack to one side spoke in a low voice. ‘Master Rossingham called first thing sir, before Madam was about. He demanded to see Miss Sarah. I told him Miss Sarah was out of town. He was very angry, started shouting that he had been in the country and Miss Sarah wasn’t there. That he had asked her to marry him and demanded to know what we had done with her. I’m afraid, sir, I was at a loss to know what to say, so I persuaded him to go home and call again later.’

  ‘You did very well, France. You say the mistress is in the morning room.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  As the butler moved away Jack looked upward and saw Sarah standing at the turn in the stairs, she moved off as Jack watched, but he was in no doubt that she had heard everything.

  It was sometime later that Betsy returned to say that Sarah was wanted in the morning room. When she entered her aunt was seated by the empty hearth staring at the back of the chimney, her fingers pleating the folds of skirts while one foot tapped out a tattoo on the fender. Jack stood at the window with his back to the room.

  ‘You wished to see me, Aunt?’

  ‘Sit down, child.’

  After a swift glance at Jack, Sarah sat down opposite Charlotte.

  ‘It would appear that Robert Rossingham saw fit to call upon us at some ungodly hour before your return this morning. He demanded,’ and here the emerald green turban quivered, ‘to know your whereabouts.’

  ‘Our carriage broke down and we had to stay overnight when the wheelwright was called away.’ She waited expectantly for Jack to confirm this. The silence grew and she became aware of a tension between her aunt and Jack.

  ‘Jack is leaving now to find Robert and explain why you were not here when he called. He will bring him here and you can give him your answer.’

  ‘I must have conversation with him first Aunt, if I am to know my mind.’

  ‘You shall as soon as he makes his intentions known to me.’

  The situation being settled Jack left to look for Robert and Sarah returned to her room to wonder at Robert’s apparent behaviour. She knew in her heart that she no longer wished to marry Robert, yet felt in all fairness she must listen to his offer.

  The afternoon dragged on and no word reached them. It wasn’t until early evening that Jack returned to Beverly Square alone. Charlotte was preparing for one of her interminable card parties when Jack walked into the chaos just as the first guests were due to arrive.

  The first Sarah knew of his arrival was when Betsy told her that they must hurry with her dressing because her aunt wanted to see her. The morning room lay at the back of the house its windows leading out into the garden. Jack stood looking out of the window while Charlotte paced about the room.

  ‘Ah there you are,’ taking her by the arm, Charlotte led Sarah over to a chaise lounge where they both sat down. Keeping hold of Sarah’s hand, Charlotte after an anxious glance at Jack said, ‘I have some worrying news for you, dear child. There are rumours about in the city.’

  ‘What rumours?’

  Charlotte patted her hand. ‘Scandalous rumours with not a pennyworth of truth to them,’ and she shook with frustrated anger.

  ‘I don’t understand what this has to do with me?’

  ‘Of course you don’t, why should you, child.’

  Sarah looked from her aunt to the still straight back of Jack and back to her aunt, a frown of puzzlement between her eyes. ‘Does this rumour include myself, Aunt?’

  ‘Yes dear child, I am very much afraid it does. Yourself and Jack, it would seem, a very wicked person has set these rumours adrift in society and knowing what gossip can do if it gets a hold . . . We must act to squash it at once.’

  Sarah felt the blood drain from her face as she asked. ‘What do the gossips say, Aunt?’

  Charlotte drew herself up to her full height. ‘Jack has a certain reputation with women, as men often do, my dear. Unfortunately the night you were forced to spend at the inn while the carriage was being repaired has been misunderstood shall we say.’

  Sarah stared at Jack’s back. ‘You mean, but it was perfectly respectable and no-one even knew we were there.’ Here she paused as she thought back, ‘except Mr Canning.’

  Jack still hadn’t turned around.

  ‘Who is a friend of Robert, was that why he called this morning, because Mr Canning told him he had seen us at the inn?’

  Charlotte sighed, then rose to her feet. ‘My dear, Jack has something he would like to say to you. I must see to my guests.’

  When Charlotte had left the room Jack turned away from the window. He stretched out a hand towards her then pulled back and sat down in the chair opposite.

  ‘Sarah, your reputation is in danger of being ruined. I have tried and failed to find Robert to set this matter straight. Now I am going to ask you to consider a proposal of marriage from me. If you were to agree then we could marry tonight and post a notice in the paper tomorrow to say we had been married in Hampshire. Then you will be safe from any further speculation.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘Safe,’ Sarah’s echo was barely a whisper between clenched teeth as she sprang from the chair where she was seated and rounded on Jack. Her voice shook with fury as she repeated, ‘Safe, and who, pray sir, will keep me safe from you.’

  Without another word she tore from the room and out into the garden, tears streaming down her face, she made her way across terrace and lawns until she reached the safety of the arbour.

  If anyone had been capable of checking her mad withdrawal from the morning room and asked the reason for her tears and she had been capable of answering, she would have been at a loss to answer. For in truth she had not the slightest idea why she had rounded on Jack. Perhaps he had shattered a dream, as surely as a fist through a window. Sullying the bond of love and affection her parents had shared by his cold calculating offer of marriage.

  She sat where she was until evening turned into night. The garden scents of rose, honeysuckle and jasmine strengthened with the close of day and the silence wrapped itself around her, drawing her into a trance-like state. So it was some while before she became aware of whispered voices close by.

  Thinking that her aunt or Jack had sent servants out looking for her, she was about to stand up, when, silhouetted against the moonlit lawn she saw them. A cloaked figure hurried away but not before she had recognised the handsome face of Etienne Lebret.

  A frown creased her brow. There had been something familiar about the voices. This was the second time she had seen someone creeping through her aunt’s garden. What on earth was going on, and where was Monsieur Lebret going in such a secretive way?

  But then her own situation flooded back to her and drowning in self pity she made her way indoors and up to her room. She was awakened much later that night by a tapping on the door. Charlotte holding a lamp came into the room. At first she thought she was dreaming then her aunt placed the lamp on a nearby table and sat down on the edge of the bed. Taking one of her hands in her own she asked, ‘Sarah are you listening?’

  She nodded her head in dumb submission, exhausted after an evening of weeping and soul-searching. She still wasn’t sure this wasn’t some awful nightmare and that she would wake up and find it all gone.

  ‘Robert refuses to marry you, so now you must ask yourself most urgently to reconsider the offer Jack made to you earlier.’ She hesitated then continued in a soft steady voice. ‘You have to think not only of the shame this will bring to you, but the effect it will have upon your dear father. To go home under a cloud, it will break his heart. Dear child do consider carefully.’

  Sarah closed heavy lids, thick lashes barely concealing the dark circles beneath. She doesn’t understand, she thought sadly as she whispered, ‘Send Betsy to me.’

  She remained i
n a dream-like state throughout the remainder of the night. As standing by a stiff and severe Jack and surrounded by Charlotte and a handful of silent strangers she was married. Strings had been pulled in certain quarters and money exchanged hands and then it was all over and she was back in her room being put to bed by a tearful Betsy.

  Sarah awoke around noon on the following day with a bad head and the feel of the heavy gold ring on her third finger. The full clarity of what had happened the previous evening had her turning her face back into the pillow with the groan of a wounded animal. Reluctantly she rang for Betsy.

  Downstairs she found Charlotte alone in the morning room.

  ‘My dear child,’ Charlotte cried, a beaming smile on her face. ‘I have just this minute received a message from Jack to say he is at “Whites,” where he has successfully scotched the first of the gossip. The announcement in the paper should do the rest.’ Her expression took on a look of great concern as she noticed the pinched, pale face of her niece.

  ‘There there my dear,’ she said coming forward and taking Sarah’s hands in her own. ‘ ’Tis all for the best, you’ll see. Jack is to go abroad on business and we decided ’twould be best for you to stay with Isobel. Then, by the time you come back all will be forgotten.’

  Sarah felt a breath of relief sweep through her so she was not to be expected to set up house for herself and Jack yet awhile.

  ‘How long will he be away, did he say?’

  ‘No, but then he never says, we just have to expect him when he arrives, but there I shall miss you,’ sighed Charlotte. They had both eaten and were sat by the fire for the day was unrepentantly chill.

  ‘I know you think we have acted hastily in this matter, child, and I don’t know what your papa is going to say, but it will be for the best you know. Oh, he will be a handful I have no doubt, but what a prize eh! What a prize.’ She gave a great gale of laughter and slapped her hand to her thigh. ‘I would it could have been done different, but you will not regret it miss, or I am no gamester.’

  After a while Sarah excused herself and went to help Betsy pack for the journey. Betsy was to accompany Sarah to Corby Manor. Promptly at two o’clock Jack arrived in Beverly Square. After a quick hug and a soft ‘goodbye’ to Charlotte, Sarah joined Betsy in the carriage. Jack was driving and Simms sat up beside him. Jack kept his team at a brisk pace and they arrived at Corby Manor in plenty of time for dinner.

  Isobel seemed not a bit surprised by the news of their marriage, nor the short notice of Sarah’s proposed visit. They were shown to two large bedrooms the adjoining doors of which were wide open. Jack sauntered through and stood regarding Sarah with a quizzical expression.

  She stood by a gigantic bed for all the world like a sparrow that had lost a worm somewhere in that large area and had not the faintest idea how to set about finding it.

  He walked forward taking a hand from his pocket and stretching it towards her in a friendly gesture, when Sarah turned and saw him. Something in her large blue eyes checked all movement momentarily, then with a slight shrug the hand went back into his pocket and turning on his heel he walked towards the door.

  ‘You might have a hard time preventing yourself getting lost in that bed, little Sarah,’ he said wickedly.

  He heard her sharp intake of breath and turned slowly to face her. His black brows drawn down in a frown and his brooding gaze raked her from head to toe. His mouth had a scornful twist to it as he said, ‘Never fear, Sarah, this is a marriage in name only. You shall be free to live where you will and with whom in time. I shall be gone as soon as we have dined.’

  Isobel’s three sons, Thomas, George and Harry were home for the holidays and were allowed to join the party for dinner. So the meal passed pleasantly and quickly as the boys kept everyone regaled with humorous tales of school adventures. Jack’s departure went unnoticed until Sir William entered the drawing room to announce, ‘Jolly chilly out.’ Sarah felt disappointed that Jack had seen fit to go without taking his leave of them.

  Christmas came and went and Sarah was profoundly grateful to have spent it in the bosom of this large and happy family. She spoke of her gratitude to Isobel one wet afternoon as they played cards. Sir William and the boys were out hunting and the little girls in the nursery when a maid tapped on the door to ask, ‘If my lady would like her fortune told as that gypsy person is here again.’

  Isobel laughed, ‘Why yes what fun, just the thing to brighten such a dull afternoon, come along, Sarah.’

  They left the drawing room and entered a small parlour at the back of the house. Here a tall thin woman stood in front of the fire. Her clothes were soaking wet and steamed as they dried in the warmth.

  Isobel seemed on intimate terms with the gypsy and soon they were sat side by side on the settle. The gypsy’s sing song voice had an almost hypnotic effect on Sarah, so she jumped with a start when the gypsy squatted down in front of her and took Sarah’s hand in her own.

  The room was lit only by the light from the fire and Sarah could not clearly make out the expression on the gypsy’s face. She told several things from Sarah’s past, but could not be drawn to divulge anything about her future.

  As she was leaving the gypsy suddenly hissed at Sarah, ‘I’ll wait on yer by the orchard gate.’ Then she was gone.

  When Isobel disappeared to the kitchens to find food for the gypsy, Sarah ran up to her room for a wrap and drawing it close around her left the house by a side door. Dodging puddles she made her way across the back yard to the orchard gate. Under some trees just inside the gate stood the gypsy with a young boy beside her.

  ‘Take a good look,’ she said, thrusting the boy forward. ‘This be Jack’s lad. Jack be my man an’ you best be remembering it.’

  Sarah looked, and she was back on the road to ‘Greenfields’ and her first meeting with Jack. The look he had given her then was repeated feature for feature on the face of this strange boy.

  ‘You still doubt,’ hissed the gypsy. Her long black hair writhing out from under the kerchief that bound her head to lash her face and wrap itself around her throat. ‘Meet me here tomorrow noon an’ I’ll do better, I’ll take you to see the real Jack Dickon.’

  Sarah tried to ask her what she wanted, what she hoped to gain by this trickery, but the boy and the gypsy had gone. Sarah gave herself a shake, the boy had great likeness to Jack, but Jack’s name was Edgeworth not Dickon, and how they intended to conjure up her Jack when in fact he was many miles away, was ridiculous.

  Next morning, Sarah dressed warmly for her meeting with the gypsy. She had not intended to keep the appointment, but curiosity had taken the upper hand. An iron frost had given hardly at all by noon confining the hunters of the family to an enforced day at home. So it was that Isobel had her hands full and gave barely a nod of acknowledgement when Sarah announced her intention of taking a walk.

  Sarah’s feet crunched across the crisp grass of the orchard and her breath came in small white puffs as she glanced around for the gypsy.

  ‘Here lady, this way.’ The boy beckoned her from the far side of the trees. As she hurried across to him it struck Sarah that she was being extremely careless, after all it could be some sort of trap. If things went wrong she might well be lucky to escape with her life.

  ‘How far is this camp of yours? I have told my hosts I shall be but a moment. I would not want them to worry.’ That should make them think if they plan me any harm, she thought. Then she asked, ‘Where is your mother?’

  ‘She’s at the camp an’ it’s only in the spinney at the bottom of yon field,’ he answered sullenly pointing the way.

  On reaching the spinney they climbed the stile into the wood. Sarah could see through the trees the brightly-painted vans standing in a small clearing. Her senses were assailed with the smell of wood smoke and the crackling of the camp fire. On a hillock thick with undergrowth just behind the last screening of trees before the clearing the boy suddenly stopped.

  ‘This is as near as we dar’st go or t
hey’ll see us,’ he whispered, ‘can yer see?’

  ‘Yes, but don’t I go into the camp? How else am I to meet,’ she hesitated, ‘your father.’

  ‘Yer to wait, that’s till yer’ve seen what yer wants then I’m ter take yer back, lady.’

  So, Sarah thought, no-one else is to know I am here. She watched carefully. There were four women and three children around the fire. The eldest woman reached across to a large pot that hung over the fire and dropped a handful of herbs into it.

  One of the other women stood up drawing her shawl tighter around her shoulders and spoke to the other two then spat into the fire. The same woman walked over to one of the vans and picking up a basket called loudly to the children. Two of them broke away and followed her across the clearing and into the woods.

  Of the two younger women left by the fire, Sarah recognised one of them as Jessy the gypsy who had sent for her. Now Jessy stood up and shouted to three men grouped on the steps of the van.

  The remaining young girl by the fire jumped to her feet and shouted to the men also before sauntering off hips swinging in the direction of a man grooming a horse on the far side of the clearing.

  She didn’t get far however, as with a scream of rage, Jessy leapt for her.

  There was a flurry of limbs and hair as the two locked in combat.

  The old woman shook her fist, and the remaining child took refuge under one of the vans. A shout went up from the men on the steps who rose to their feet and moved forward, but whether to break up the fight or simply spectate Sarah never knew for at that moment the man who had been grooming the horse threw down his tool and walked swiftly into the centre of the clearing. Jack grabbed Jessy by the hair and dragged her kicking and screaming to a van where he hurled her inside then followed.

  Sarah shivered violently, from fear or shock or a sense of excitement she wasn’t sure. She turned blindly and followed the boy back to the house in silence. Once inside she made straight for her room. She was still shaking, but her fear was rapidly being replaced by anger.