Juliet Landon

Dishonour and Desire


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Chase thought his host was the dourest of men, though his excuse was certainly a valid one. Not for one moment did he himself think that Miss Caterina Chester’s case was as serious as her father appeared to believe. At the age of twenty-three, many débutantes were already married, that much was true, but this one was obviously looking for something not on her father’s list and was prepared to wait for it. Nor did he believe that she was on the shelf. Not even approaching it. She was, in fact, the most prime article he’d ever clapped eyes on, but even a Johnny-Raw could see that her father and stepmother between them were handling her more like a child than a grown woman with a mind of her own. That being so, Chester might jump at his offer, and he himself would have to take a different route to achieve his aim. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I know somebody. Me, sir. Myself.’

      ‘Eh?’ Mr Chester said with a quick frown. From what he’d heard, bang-up coves like Sir Chase Boston did not marry, they took mistresses. His face immediately registered distrust. ‘Oh, I could not agree to that, Sir Chase. She’s had offers to be a man’s mistress before, you know. Only last month, the Duke of—’

      ‘No, not as a mistress, sir. As a wife. I’m talking about marriage. If I can persuade her to marry me, I am prepared to give you the IOU to tear up, and the cost of the phaeton and pair, too. You’ll be in the clear again.’

      ‘And what if you can’t? She doesn’t want to marry, Sir Chase. And you could see for yourself that she would never accept you as a husband. Not even as a friend,’ he added, sharpening the barb.

      ‘Well, then,’ said Sir Chase, straightening up. ‘It was simply a proposal. No offence meant. I’ll expect you at Mortlake tomorrow morning, sir.’

      Mr Chester waved a hand, unfurling himself from the chair. ‘No…er, don’t rush off. Have another…oh, you haven’t…well. Now, may I try to understand you correctly? You’re making me an offer for my eldest daughter. Of marriage. Is that correct?’

      ‘Correct.’

      ‘And I get the debts written off. That’s part of the deal?’

      ‘Correct.’

      ‘There must be something else, surely? What do I lose?’

      ‘Nothing, unless I am unable to win Miss Chester, after all. Then we shall be back to square one.’

      ‘Then she must be told that’s what she’s going to do. But…’ he searched the shining tabletop as if for information ‘…I know very little about you, you see, and although I’m very tempted, and…er…gratified by your offer, I would like to know that Caterina would be—how shall I put it?’

      ‘Well cared for?’

      ‘Yes. In short, well cared for. But if you’ll forgive me, Sir Chase, there are some fathers, you see, who would look a little askance at your reputation in that department.’ And in plenty of other departments, too, he thought. There were some fathers who would not see this man as a suitable husband for their daughters under any circumstances, though their daughters might harbour sweet fantasies about it. However, the temptation to solve two major problems in one fell swoop was too great to be dismissed on the spot. ‘And if you don’t manage to persuade her?’ he said, still negative.

      ‘Then I’m afraid, as I said, the debt will stand. You fear I might not?’

      ‘Sir Chase, I cannot see how anybody could recommend himself to her as she is at the moment. Well, you’ve seen, haven’t you? Nevertheless, if you can recommend yourself to me, I shall do everything in my power as a respected parent to show her where her duty lies. I still have that authority, although I have not so far exercised it. Perhaps I should have done.’

      ‘I would rather take my own time, sir. In my experience, a lady like your daughter would not take kindly to being rushed over her fences.’

      Neither man saw anything inappropriate in the analogy.

      ‘In your experience. Yes, you’ve had quite a bit of that, haven’t you?’

      ‘I’m thirty-two years old, sir. What man hasn’t, at that age?’

      Stephen Chester hadn’t, for one, though his elder brother had. ‘And your parents are at Mortlake?’ he said, avoiding the question.

      ‘Boston Lodge. Sir Reginald and Lady FitzSimmon. Sir Reginald is my stepfather, and I am their only son. My own dwelling is on Halfmoon Street in London, sir. I’ve lived there for the last few years, and sometimes in my other properties in the north.’

      Mr Chester had no need to ask what he’d been doing over the last few years, with pockets as deep as his, his parents swimming in lard, houses scattered all over the country, friend of the Prince Regent, nothing to do but win more money this way and that. He’d heard as much from Lord Elyot and his brother, who appeared to like him. They had also told him that Sir Chase belonged to the Four Horse Club, which he wished his son Harry had known before he took him on a wild-goose chase round Richmond Park.

      ‘Your name, Sir Chase? Is it an abbreviation of something?’

      ‘A childhood name that stuck, sir. My father and uncles used to call me Chase Anything after my first adventures in the hunting field. That became just Chase. My mother always calls me Charles, quite properly.’

      Chase Anything, Mr Chester thought, would properly describe what he himself had heard about the man. ‘Any light-o’-loves on the go?’ he asked, looking to catch any confusion.

      There was none. ‘No one who matters,’ said Sir Chase, callously.

      ‘Any side-slips?’

      Again, not a flicker of embarrassment. ‘Absolutely not, sir.’

      ‘And where would you expect my daughter to live, if you managed this miracle?’

      As far away from her family as possible, would have been Sir Chase’s reply if he’d been less diplomatic. ‘That would not cause any kind of problem, Mr Chester. I can purchase a place somewhere if Miss Chester doesn’t like the ones I have.’

      ‘Well, that’s a juicy carrot if ever I saw one. If I’ve learnt one thing about women it’s that they have likes and dislikes about where they want to live. Still, you’re an unconventional kind of chap, are you not?’

      ‘I would have thought,’ said Sir Chase, borrowing Miss Chester’s own phrase, ‘that your daughter would be very little interested in the sober, plodding, narrowminded kind of man as husband-material. She strikes me as being a high-spirited kind of woman who needs a man who can keep up with her. You need not fear that I shall drag her into gaming-hells or be unfaithful. Nor would I allow her to fall into any kind of trouble. When I make the effort to win something, sir, I don’t mistreat it. As for my age, how old are the men she was engaged to marry? Loddon is a middle-aged ninny tied to his mother’s apron-strings in deepest Cornwall. Hadstoke is fifty, if he’s a day, with a grown family at each other’s throats. And as for St Helen’s…well, a woman would have to be desperate to accept that old tup.’

      ‘Wealth and titles. That’s important for any woman.’

      ‘For any father, sir, if I may say so. I have a baronetcy which my heir, when I get one, will inherit with my estate. And I have youth and vigour on my side, also. And if, as I believe, Miss Chester enjoys driving that crane-neck phaeton out there, my kind of life might suit her very well.’

      ‘Oh, I wish Lady Elyot had not lent it to her. It’s far too dangerous.’

      ‘For your taste, perhaps. Now, have I put your mind at ease?’

      If Stephen Chester’s mind was not completely at ease concerning this overpowering man’s suitability to be his son-in-law, he did not let the fact stand in the way of his decision, which he had already made well before the cross-examination. That had been a mere formality for the sake of appearances. Caterina must be married, come what may. ‘You’ve never been married, I take it?’ he said, trying not to appear too eager.