only every lady were as forgiving,’ he said and, then belatedly, ‘My name is Daniel Seaton, Miss Bancroft. I am happy to make your acquaintance. Perhaps another time…’
Eliza was not sure what he meant by that. She inclined her head, dipping a curtsy as he caught the reins and swung up into the saddle, smiling at her once more before giving the horse its head.
Her heart beat faster than normal as she watched the handsome stranger ride off down the lane at a rather more sedate pace. If the earl was his uncle, then he was a man of some rank and would not be interested in the daughter of a parson. His remark could mean nothing. Indeed, it was much better if he had been mouthing a mere politeness, because any attentions from a gentleman of quality would be of the wrong kind.
The earl sometimes held house parties and in the past her mama had warned her not to go walking alone when young gentlemen were staying up at the big house.
‘You would not encourage their attentions, my love,’ Mrs Bancroft had told her more than once. ‘Yet you are attractive enough to arouse the interest of wild young bucks and they are not to be trusted.’
Eliza’s instincts told her that Daniel Seaton, as he had named himself, was perhaps the kind of gentleman her mama had warned her of. He had been perfectly polite and behaved respectably enough, apart from the incident when he had licked her hand. No gentleman would do that to a respectable young woman of his own class, but as the daughter of a clergyman she was fair game! She knew that the earl’s own son had been both wild and reckless, and he was reputed to have had low morals and had been fond of romping with farm or tavern wenches and drinking a great deal, which was why his violent death while out riding had not been a surprise to the local people. Still, Ted had told them that the earl had been devastated by his son’s death and was only half the man he had been before it.
Eliza felt sad for the earl, whom she knew only by slight acquaintance, having seen him at church and the fête that was held once a year in his gardens, as well as a Christmas party he gave for his neighbours. Her papa had been invited to dine occasionally, as the parish priest, but the earl had ceased to entertain in the months following his son’s death. It was a terrible thing to lose his only son, though he had a daughter who had given him two young grandsons.
She supposed that one of his grandsons would inherit both the title and the estate, though both were still in leading strings. If the earl were to die before they were grown… but he was only in his late middle years and would surely live until he was sixty at least?
Seeing the estate office ahead of her, she put the thought out of her mind and increased her pace.
‘It was good of you to come down again so soon, Daniel,’ the earl said and sighed heavily. ‘Will you take a glass of madeira with me before nuncheon?’
‘If it is that excellent stuff you usually keep, I shall be delighted, sir,’ Daniel said and smiled at his mother’s brother. He was fond of his uncle, which was one of the reasons he refused to burden him with financial problems. ‘How are you, sir?’
‘Not too clever, Daniel.’ The earl passed him a glass of the rich wine. ‘I’m not sure I shall live long enough to see my grandchildren grow to manhood.’ He held up his hand as Daniel would have protested. ‘No, don’t deny it. My heart took a knock when Marcus was killed…’
‘He would not want you to grieve too hard, sir. Marcus cared for you deeply.’
‘Did he? I am not sure… once, perhaps, but we had grown apart of late. He seemed odd, as though something was on his mind.’ The earl sighed heavily. ‘I know the lad sowed his wild oats and I cannot approve of things he did, but he was my son. If he had asked for my help, I would have given it.’
‘I have spoken to Cheadle, sir. He tells me that you settled my cousin’s gambling debt immediately?’
‘The damned fellow approached me before my son was cold in his grave. I dislike that man intensely, Daniel.’
‘I, too,’ Daniel agreed. ‘I played a hand with him at my club. He lost heavily that night and was forced to give me this.’ Daniel took a ring from his pocket and showed the earl. ‘He asked me to keep it and intends to redeem it at his earliest convenience. I shall of course oblige him.’
‘I am surprised that you played with him after what happened to your father?’
‘I was not drunk, neither was I desperate. I know my limits and when to rise from the table. I had my reasons, sir.’
‘I dare say you did.’ The earl looked at him through narrowed eyes. ‘Did Marcus approach you for help? The young fool! He should have come to me immediately.’
‘He did not wish to distress you, sir. He sent me a letter. It was waiting at my club. I did not discover it until I went to visit my lawyer recently.’
‘Your father left a damned mess for you, Daniel. You have only to ask if you need help.’
‘Thank you, sir. I know it, but I believe I shall manage. I thought I might sell the London house, but for the moment I shall let it to tenants. I shall not be able to afford to visit London much until I have the estate on an even keel again.’
‘You won’t tell me, but I dare say your father took a mortgage.’ The earl nodded as Daniel remained silent. ‘Not my business—but you might look for an heiress? If she suits you and her father is on the catch for a title you might save yourself years of penny pinching. Besides, you will wish to marry in a year or two, if not now.’
‘Yes, perhaps.’ Daniel laughed ruefully. ‘Marry a fortune to pay my debts—that would be a little hard on the young woman, do you not think so?’
‘It is often the case that a young woman of fortune has little else to commend her to a husband. Look for a plain chit, my boy, and she will be grateful to you. She will give you a couple of sons and then you may both live as you please. It is done all the time.’
‘I know you are right, sir, but I shall try to sort my problems myself if I can.’
‘Well, you don’t need advice from me.’ The earl frowned, suddenly seeming very toubled. ‘It was odd the way Marcus died… His groom told me that he found a sore beneath the saddle when he groomed the wretched beast, which might explain why a man who was an excellent rider fell and broke his neck. I just can’t understand how it happened. He should not have taken the horse out in such a state—though Jed swears there was nothing there when he saddled up that morning. If something caused the horse to chafe, it must have got there between Marcus leaving home and returning that evening. He had, of course, been drinking in the village inn, though I have been told he was not drunk when he left.’
‘Is the groom still in your employ, sir?’
‘No, he left me a week or two back. Lives in the village, name of Jed Bailey—why?’
‘Marcus was a damned good rider, but something must have made his horse bolt the way it did…’ Daniel frowned, remembering his cousin’s confusing letter ‘The coroner brought in a verdict of misadventure. Is there any reason to think there might have been foul play?’
‘None then and none now,’ the earl admitted. ‘Marcus was in with a bad crowd, though I do not know who they were—but I sensed he was hiding something from me.’
‘I should like your permission to investigate a little, sir.’
The earl looked at him thoughtfully. ‘You know something I don’t, of course. Don’t want to tell me?’
‘I know very little, sir—but I intend to find out.’
‘Take care, then. If whoever was behind what happened to Marcus learns you are poking your nose in, he won’t stop there. I would rather nothing happened to you, Daniel.’
‘I shall be on my guard. Besides, there may be nothing in it.’
‘You wouldn’t be bothering to investigate if you thought that. Is Cheadle behind this, Daniel?’