of a contribution, if you would be so kind. Then I shall leave you to your lover. Are we talking of wives, or mistresses?’
Amelie paled with the effort of controlling her fury. ‘We are not talking at all, sir. The sooner you go, the better. Here, take this and get out of my house. It’s all I have available.’ She took the weighty bag of coins that had been returned from the workhouse and threw it in his direction, but because she was thoroughly unnerved by his insult and by her own indiscretion, and because he was not expecting that particular mode of conveyance, the bag landed on the floor with a heavy thud some way from his left heel.
At that precise moment, Henry threw open the door, but was unable to announce the visitor’s name before he strode in, pulled up sharply, and stood there with that unshakeable poise which was one of his most attractive qualities.
Amelie could have screamed at him that he was not expected until the afternoon, and that he was not to speak to Mr Hurst under any circumstances. Her plan was destined to come unstuck, however, teaching her never to lie like that again. ‘Lord Elyot,’ she said, breathlessly, ‘your timing is perfect, as ever. My guest is just about to leave.’
‘I hope you will introduce us,’ he said coolly, taking in the complete picture including the money-bag on the floor, Hurst’s eagerness to be gone, and the angry red blotches upon Amelie’s neck and cheeks.
‘Ruben Hurst. Lord Elyot,’ she said.
The two men bowed, and Hurst would have made for the door except that Lord Elyot stood in his way and looked unlikely to move.
‘Mr Hurst is an old friend of the family,’ Amelie said, ‘on his way to London.’
‘Is that so? And you’re staying here in Richmond?’ said Lord Elyot, still not moving.
Hurst seemed to cringe a little. ‘Well, my lord, I am suffering a slight embarrassment. I came down by post-chaise from Buxton and discovered at the first stop that my luggage has been left behind…mixed up, somehow…stupid porters. you know how it is…well, no, you probably don’t. And now I find myself without my belongings or my money. It was in my trunk, you see, safe from highwaymen. So annoying. I had wondered whether dear Lady Chester would be in a position to offer an old friend a night’s hospitality, but perhaps that’s not a good idea after all.’
‘There are some good inns in Richmond, Mr Hurst,’ said Lord Elyot with a remarkable lack of sympathy.
‘Ah…yes, of course. Lady Chester has kindly offered to lend me some funds to pay for accommodation until my own arrives. We have been close friends for a good many years, you see, as I’m sure she has sometimes mentioned to you. Very close.’
‘No, I don’t believe Lady Chester has ever mentioned you.’
‘Oh…er, that does surprise me, my lord. She has confided in me something of the nature of your personal relationship…your 1 understanding, that is, though of course I shall keep it to myself until it’s announced. May I offer you my felicitations, my lord? You are fortunate indeed, as I’m sure Lady Chester is also.’
Amelie closed her eyes and held her breath.
‘Thank you for your felicitations, Mr Hurst. Yes, I am indeed a very fortunate man,’ came Lord Elyot’s unwavering response. ‘And as a very good friend of the family, you will be kept informed of our progress. However, I am sure you will appreciate that our negotiations are still at a rather delicate stage, and I must point out to you that Lady Chester’s circumstances are changing, even as we speak. So the funds she has so kindly offered to lend you are frozen for the time being. Unfortunately, she is no longer in a position to lend you anything, Mr Hurst. Not until everything is finalised, you understand. Then we shall review the situation.’
Amelie opened her eyes and slowly began to breathe again.
Hurst took a step backwards, glancing at the money-bag on the floor with a grimace between a frown and a forced smile of defeat. ‘Yes, indeed, my lord. Yes…er…I had not thought, and naturally Lady Chester did not say as much to me.’
‘No, she wouldn’t.’ Lord Elyot smiled at her. ‘She is the most kind-hearted lady.’
‘Quite, my lord. You see, she lent me money in the past for which I have never ceased to be grateful. Most grateful.’
‘Really? What was that for, Mr Hurst? More luggage problems?’
‘No, it was for my beloved sister, my lord. A predicament. These things happen,’ he whispered, sadly. ‘Lady Chester was infinitely generous.’ He turned a look upon her that Garrick could have boasted of, full of devotion, adoration, and a sickening intimacy that almost turned Amelie’s stomach.
At that, she caught Lord Elyot’s eye for the first time and, without the slightest effort, conveyed to him all the fury and humiliation of the past half hour. Relieved beyond words to have had his support at this most disturbing interview that had satisfied none of her intended queries, she also felt the repercussions of her grotesque lie banking up behind her like the thunderclouds of doom in some Gothic novel, with the supernatural calm that comes before the storm.
‘I could not agree more, Mr Hurst,’ said Lord Elyot smoothly. ‘Lady Chester’s warmth and generosity are the first things that attracted me to her. Now, my good fellow, I can recommend some excellent inns in Richmond: the Red Lyon and the Feathers are opposite each other, the Greyhound, the Talbot…oh, any number of them. On the other hand, the mail coach leaves for London from the King Street posting-office three times daily. You may wish to take advantage of that as soon as your baggage catches you up. I see you understand me well, sir.’
As he spoke, Lord Elyot reached behind him to open the door where the faithful Henry was waiting for just such a moment.
From beneath his gathered brows, Hurst glowered with deep distrust at his audience, but carefully avoided looking at the money he was forbidden to retrieve. He bowed. ‘Your servant…my lady…my lord.’ Then he was gone.
In spite of her new predicament, Amelie’s relief and gratitude robbed her of words and, if she had been of a weepy frame of mind, she would almost certainly have burst into tears and thrown herself bodily into the arms of her rescuer. But since her rescuer was bound to be expecting some convincing explanations very shortly, she stood with both hands enclosing the entire lower half of her face as if she were praying. Which, in a sense, she was. She was also wondering how on earth to explain herself, not to mention Ruben Hurst.
She realised she was in for a rough ride as soon as Lord Elyot approached her with that maddeningly cryptic expression he favoured, and said, ‘Well, my dear Lady Chester, there’s a dirty dish if ever I saw one. You really do have the oddest friends. I fear I may have to forbid you to see him again once our engagement is formally announced. He won’t do, my dear. Really he won’t. Not up to the mark at all.’
‘You were not expected until this afternoon,’ Amelie mumbled through her fingers.
‘Yes, and you’d have been out, wouldn’t you? Hardly the way to behave towards your intended husband.’
‘Please…stop it! You must have realised that was a last resort.’
‘Thank you. I cannot recall when I was last known as a last resort. Must have been in my schooldays, I suppose.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘Then what did you mean? And who was that jackanapes with his bag of moonshine?’
Inside her hands, she shook her head, closing her eyes.
‘You’ll do better like this,’ he said, taking her wrists. ‘It releases the mouth, I find. There now. Come and sit over here.’ Leading her to the chair vacated by Hurst, he lowered her into it. Then, pouring her a glass of some mulberry-coloured liquid from a decanter, he passed it to her. ‘I don’t know what this stuff is, but take a sip.’
‘Blackcurrant juice. Thank you.’ Obediently, she sipped.