A Dangerous Undertaking. Mary Nichols

soon after they married, and they had no children,’ he answered in an undertone. ‘My sister and I are the result of his second marriage. Grandmama is a little confused; she sometimes relives these little dramas. Pay no heed.’

      The meal ended silently. It was as if the old lady’s talk of death had put a constraint on them all, and Margaret was glad when it was over and her ladyship rose to leave the table. Hannah, the old lady’s companion, who had shared the meal but not the conversation, was immediately at her side to help her to her room, leaving Kate and Margaret to go to the withdrawing-room together.

      ‘Oh, I am so glad you came,’ Kate told Margaret. ‘It gets dreadfully dull here sometimes.’

      ‘What do you do for amusement?’ Margaret asked her.

      ‘Sometimes we go to Cambridge or to the races at Newmarket. And there is always the fen.’

      ‘The fen?’

      ‘Boating and fishing and wildfowling. I don’t shoot, of course, but Roland is a crack shot, and Charles nearly as good. It isn’t surprising when you consider they both served with distinction in the army. They were in the same regiment—did you know that?’

      ‘No,’ Margaret said, choosing her words carefully. ‘His lordship and I had very little time to get to know each other. I had to nurse Mama.’

      ‘Of course, I understand. But you must think of the future now.’

      Margaret didn’t want to think about it. ‘Tell me about yourself,’ she said.

      ‘Roland is eight years older than I am, you know. I believe my mother had several miscarriages between the two of us. I don’t remember her, but Roland says Papa was so delighted to have a daughter after so long, he spoiled me dreadfully.’ Her voice became sad as she added, ‘He died five months ago. Roland was missing at the time—it was just after the battle at Culloden—and we did not know what had happened to him. It was only when Charles got leave in the summer and came to tell us Roland had been wounded, and was being cared for by the Chalfonts in Derbyshire, that we knew he was alive. As soon as he was well enough to travel he returned to his regiment, and then of course he learned of Papa’s death and came straight home to take up his inheritance.’ She laughed lightly. ‘You know, sometimes he treats me like a daughter instead of a sister. He can be very pompous when he chooses.’

      ‘Yes, I can imagine that,’ Margaret said with a wry smile.

      ‘But you are not at all haughty and you will not treat me like a child, will you, even when you marry Roland? After all, you cannot be much older than I am.’

      ‘I am nineteen.’ She knew that she would soon be past marriageable age, especially as she had no dowry, but that didn’t mean she was desperate. ‘But I have not agreed to marry him.’

      ‘Oh, but you will, won’t you? You will be so good for him, I know you will. I knew it as soon as I saw you. Charles was right; all Roly needed was a little push in the right direction.’

      Margaret felt herself being drawn further and further into the web and yet she seemed unable to do anything to free herself, and the longer the charade went on, the more difficult it became to speak out, to say she had no intention of marrying Lord Pargeter. She was about to pluck up her courage to do so, when Roland and Charles joined them.

      They had some desultory conversation, and then Roland suggested showing Margaret over the house.

      ‘Capital notion!’ Charles said, grinning. ‘Kate and I will amuse ourselves with a little piquet. Hannah will be down again directly to chaperon us.’

      Margaret followed Roland from the room, determined to tell him she would not fall in with his outrageous scheme. Although it was little past four o’clock it was already quite dark, and he picked up a lamp from the table in the hall and held it aloft. It revealed a vaulted gallery that towered the whole height of the building, panelled and hung with portraits.

      ‘My ancestors,’ he said, indicating the pictures. ‘The baronetcy was granted by Elizabeth when we lived in Ely and owned land on the higher ground above Winterford. As the fens were drained, so we acquired more. We have been in residence in the Manor since the Commonwealth.’ He led the way up the wide staircase. ‘The house is built in the shape of a crooked E. The staircase forms the central bar and most of the rooms we use are in the west wing, which is more protected from the prevailing wind than the east side.’ They reached the gallery, where they stood side by side, looking over the banister to the vestibule below. It was lit by two lamps near the door, and a huge fire whose warmth did not reach them.

      ‘Your great-uncle was here,’ he said.

      ‘Uncle Henry? When?’

      ‘Last evening. He came looking for you.’

      ‘How did he know where I was?’

      ‘One must suppose he guessed.’

      ‘I did tell him that Master Mellison had been kind enough to escort me to Sedge House,’ she said slowly. ‘What did he say?’

      ‘Oh, he was full of bluster and talk of abduction and a great deal more.’

      ‘He thought you had abducted me?’ she queried in surprise. ‘Why, that’s nonsense.’

      ‘So I told him. He said if I had not abducted you I would have no objection to your returning with him.’

      ‘What did you say to that?’

      ‘I said, of course, I had none, but that you were sleeping off the effects of your ordeal, an ordeal brought about by his immoral behaviour, but, if you wished, I would take you to him when you had recovered.’ He paused, turning to face her. ‘Do you wish to go back?’

      She thought about it for a moment. Was that what she ought to do? It might get her out of the extraordinary situation she found herself in here at the Manor, but the memory of her uncle’s lecherous guests decided her. ‘No, certainly not. I cannot think why he should think I would. He did not exactly make me welcome.’

      ‘He said something about the child of his beloved niece and blood being thicker than water. I am afraid that he angered me so much that I became a little indiscreet.’

      ‘Oh, what did you say?’

      ‘I cannot repeat the words I used, Mistress Donnington.’ The fury he had felt when he’d seen Capitain shaking the snow off his hat and stamping his booted feet on the hall rug of Winterford Manor had evaporated, leaving him icily calm. Pargeters and Capitains had not spoken to each other for years and, for the most part, ignored one another’s existence; Roland could hardly believe that charlatan could have had the effrontery to call at Winterford Manor and demand to see him. Demand! He had been about to throw him out, when he had realised there was a way to crush him completely. He had told the insolent fellow of his intentions towards Margaret. It had silenced him just long enough for him to comprehend the implications. There had been a great deal more ranting about being Margaret’s legal guardian and his permission being needed for such a step, but that was all it was, nothing but bravado. They had come to an arrangement which guaranteed silence and involved a certain sum of money changing hands. The man would gamble it away in less than a month, but by then the marriage would have taken place. If Roland had had any doubts about the rights and wrongs of what he was doing, they had been dispersed by that visit.