assist her in every way after hearing of the sad mischance which I have so carelessly brought about. I have concocted an explanation which I believe will do the trick of allowing her to retain her reputation and which will also disassociate her completely from any connection with me—that is, if you agree to it.
‘It goes as follows. You were being driven along Oxford Street when you saw this young gentlewoman overcome by faintness. Of your infinite compassion you stopped, assisted her into your chaise and took care of her. She did not recover for some time and, when she did, she was temporarily afflicted with a distressing loss of memory. Again, of your compassion, you drove her to your pied à terre in Stanhope Street near Regent’s Park, where you cared for her until her memory returned. After which you immediately arranged to restore her to the family by whom she is at present employed.’
Madame clapped her hands together gently.
‘Excellent. You should be writing plays for Drury Lane! I shall, of course, need to drive the young woman secretly back to London and make it known that I had recently arrived there in order to take part in the Season. I shall be happy to oblige you, seeing that I need to visit the capital in order to renew my wardrobe and visit a few old friends.’
‘Excellent,’ echoed Ben, looking happy for the first time for several hours. ‘All that remains is for you to meet Miss Beverly as soon as possible. She seems a most respectable young woman, except that she said something rather odd to me, to the effect that, if it were known that she had apparently run off with me, it would finally destroy her reputation which was damaged already. Have you heard of any scandal relating to a young woman of that name? If you have, I think that you ought to tell me. It would be as well to know exactly where we stand.’
‘Very true,’ nodded Madame gravely. ‘You and I, of all people, know the necessity of guarding our backs. The name is a little familiar—but I will try to gain her confidence this evening; if anything important crops up, I shall not hesitate to inform you.’
She smiled and said after a fashion as cool as his, ‘By the by, I must congratulate you on your choice of words to describe the criminal act which you have just committed! To describe an innocent young lady’s forcible kidnapping as “a sad mischance” is a feat worthy of the late Dr Johnson himself!’
Ben’s grin was somewhat shamefaced. ‘You never spare me, Madame,’ he told her.
‘Indeed not. There ought to be someone in the world who is capable of compelling you to face the truth about yourself occasionally, mon cher.’
And so it was arranged. On the one hand, in London, Susanna’s future was being busily destroyed whilst, in the country, a practised pair of conspirators were equally busily trying to rebuild it!
Chapter Four
Whilst Ben was occupying himself at Lavendon by covering up his blunder, Susanna, at the urgings of Mr Jess Fitzroy, allowed the housekeeper, Mrs Ashton, and the little maid to accompany her upstairs, bathe her, and dress her in the modish clothing which lay on the bed in her suite of rooms.
It was many years since she had worn anything so fine, so expensive and yet so ladylike. Looking in the long mirror, she saw herself transformed. Mrs Ashton who had been a lady’s maid herself long ago, not only dressed her hair for her, but also applied a soupçon of rouge with a fine hare’s-foot brush, despite Susanna exclaiming that she never used it.
‘You are a little wan, my dear. The tiniest application of colour to your cheeks will soon remedy that. There—’ and she swung Susanna towards the mirror again so that she could see for herself that the ravages of the afternoon had been repaired.
‘Now, you must go downstairs,’ said her new guardian. ‘I understand that it will not be long before the Master returns and, shortly after that, dinner will be served. It will be at an odd hour, to be sure, but then, Mr Wolfe has his own ways of going on—as you have doubtless discovered.’
Oh, yes, Miss Susanna Beverly had already discovered that! She arrived in the drawing room to find Mr Jess Fitzroy there, dressed in a superfine blue jacket, cream pantaloons and the most elegant evening slippers—to say nothing of an artistically tied cravat and suitably dishevelled hair in the latest fashion.
He bowed to her gracefully. ‘Allow me to congratulate you on your appearance, Miss Beverly. Most fitting.’
‘Fitting for what, Mr Fitzroy—to be kidnapped again? And maltreated into the bargain?’
He bowed again. ‘I pray you, forgive me for that—but do admit…my unfortunate behaviour to you was based on a complete misunderstanding.’
‘And am I to infer from that, that all would have been well if you had carried off Miss Western and not myself? If so, I wonder at your morality, sir, as well as your common sense.’
By Jove, Ben had been right. The woman had a tongue like a viper and did not hesitate to use it!
Nevertheless, Jess Fitzroy had the grace to look a trifle ashamed of himself before he muttered, ‘Why, as to that, Miss Beverly, there are reasons—’
He got no further before Susanna exclaimed, ‘Pray do not enlarge on them, sir, for I am sure that I should neither approve of them nor like them!’
Jess was saved from having to reply by the arrival of Ben Wolfe, with Celeste, Comtesse de Saulx, on his arm. Both of them were dressed in the latest stare of fashion appropriate to their sex and to their different ages.
Ben, indeed, had for once allowed his valet to do his best for him—why, he did not know. It was not that he wished to attract Miss Susanna Beverly in any way, far from it, simply that he wished to reassure both the Comtesse and her as to his claims to respectability.
The Comtesse had not only acceded to his demand that she return to The Den with him immediately, but she had also had herself dressed for dinner with exemplary speed after her arrival there. Ben’s valet had passed on to him the welcome news that Miss Beverly had joined Mr Fitzroy in the Turkish drawing room where they were awaiting his arrival.
At least the argumentative virago had had the grace to give way over something. Ben had not relished the thought of another slanging match occasioned by his unwanted guest refusing to oblige him by dining with him. Not only that, when he walked in, he saw immediately that she had also obliged him by assuming the clothes which she had earlier refused.
But that was not all that he saw—or experienced—either when she rose to greet him, or when he took her hand to kiss its back after the continental fashion of which he knew Madame la Comtesse would approve. For, seeing Susanna for the first time as a woman, and neither as an object destined to bring about his long-awaited revenge on the Wychwoods, nor as the wretched nuisance who had been carried off as the result of his own folly, had the oddest effect on him.
That indomitable spirit, which had allowed Susanna to overcome the series of disasters which had afflicted her since her father’s death, shone through the envelope of flesh which clothed it, and, in doing so, touched Ben Wolfe’s own proud and unyielding soul.
There was nothing of the flesh about this experience for either of them. It affected Ben the more strongly and immediately precisely because it was so different from anything he had ever known before. It was not Susanna’s fine eyes, or her tender mouth, nor her carefully arranged and lustrous hair, or even the delicate figure revealed by the arts of a Parisian dressmaker, attractive though these were, which were having such a strong effect on him.
No, it was something more, something which passed his understanding and which made him see Susanna in a totally new light. And when he took her small hand in his to kiss the back of it, a shudder passed through both of them.
Susanna’s eyes widened and she withdrew her hand as though it had been stung. Nevertheless, so instantaneous was their reaction that even the keen-eyed Comtesse did not notice that Ben Wolfe and the pretty young woman whom he was now presenting to her were sharing something which neither of them could explain.
Why meeting Ben