Part 7 (1/2)

'A warehouse in the East End,' Ashe said. 'Miss Hurst mentioned it at dinner the other evening and I escorted her to look around.'

'Miss Hurst?' Sara said. 'Lord Fransham's sister? Why was she interested?'

The plan seemed to present itself fully formed in Ashe's head. 'Because she is an amateur expert in objets d'art,' he said. 'Rather more than an amateur, but you won't mention that to anyone, I'm sure. They are somewhat short of funds and she buys items that appeal to her and then sells them discreetly. Auctions and so forth.' He was not going to mention the shop and her other personas. He had promised, and this was quite enough to explain what he was about to suggest. 'You might have noticed that fine suite of cameos she was wearing at the Richmonds' ball. If we were to offer her a fee...'

As he expected, none of his family seemed shocked. 'How clever,' Sara approved. 'I know they are not well off-I was warned not to set my sights on her brother-but that must be a great help. No wonder she always dresses with such style. I was wondering about that shopkeeper in Jermyn Street, where we bought my moonstone, but Miss Hurst would be much better.'

'Certainly,' Ashe agreed, straight-faced. 'We wouldn't want a Frenchwoman.'

His mother was frowning. 'Miss Hurst can hardly go off with you unchaperoned, Ashe.'

'There is Great-Aunt Charlotte in the Dower House. She could stay with her,' Ashe pointed out. 'Or Aunt Charlotte might prefer to come to the house. If I hired a chaise for Miss Hurst and she had her maid with her, I cannot imagine that would be a problem.'

'All I know of my aunt is that she cordially disliked my father,' the marquess said. 'But I can write, see if she's willing to a.s.sist us in this, if your Miss Hurst is prepared to oblige us.'

My Miss Hurst. Now there was a concept that appealed to him. Ashe kept his face neutral. 'I will sound her out in principle. If Great-Aunt is not willing to have a guest or move to the main house, then we will just have to think again.'

Great-aunt or not, he was going to offer Phyllida a fee that would keep her from the necessity of going into the East End for months. Months while he persuaded her into his bed, months while he enjoyed her as his mistress.

'You want me to come with you, alone, to your family home?' Phyllida sorted through a jumble of emotions. Surprise, a surge of wicked excitement, rapidly suppressed, outrage if this was deliberate plotting, delight that she might earn a fee so easily and in such surroundings.

'I am asking you to accept my escort, with your maid. My great-aunt Charlotte has condescended to move into the main house for the duration-largely out of curiosity, I suspect, but she will make an unexceptionable chaperon should anyone discover your presence.'

'But-'

'I am suggesting a generous fee by the day, as we have no idea of the extent of the problem, and you have the first opportunity to negotiate on items we wish to sell.' Ashe Herriard sat back in the chair, crossed long legs in elegant relaxation and waited. 'Naturally we will not be making it known that we have employed an expert, let alone who it is,' he added.

'I suppose I could develop exhaustion from all the gadding about I have been doing and need to visit a friend in the country for a few days' rest,' Phyllida pondered aloud. A generous fee and time alone in Ashe's company. It was very tempting. But could she trust him? Or, rather more to the point, could she trust herself?

'You would not have to venture anywhere near Buck's territory for months,' Ashe remarked.

Cowardice? Or the perfect excuse to yield to Ashe's persuasions? Whichever it was, that was a powerful argument. 'I will be glad to do it,' she agreed before she could talk herself out of it. 'Gregory is going to the same house party as your family, and so is Miss Millington. Lady Arnold has promised to exert her best endeavours to secure her vouchers for Almack's because she is Gregory's G.o.dmother and thinks Harriet will be good for him.'

'And you are not invited?'

'Best not to remind the patronesses about our parents' casual approach to marriage,' she said with a lightness she was finding hard to maintain lately.

'May I ask what happened? I do not mean to pry if it is not something you choose to speak of.'

There was a faint snort from Anna, sitting in the corner with a basket of mending to keep up the appearance of propriety. Phyllida shrugged. 'It is no secret. They were madly in love-or, at least, Mama was-eloped and then Papa just kept vaguely failing to get round to marrying her.

'He made every excuse you might imagine. His father would forgive them in time and then they could have a proper society wedding, he'd run out of funds for Mama's bride clothes, he had to come back to London from Tunbridge Wells where she was in lodgings in order to make money for the rent by gambling. One pretext after another.

'And once Mama was expecting me she was hardly the slender girl who had attracted him in the first place, so she saw even less of him. Finally a frantic letter brought him back to marry her. But, of course, he stopped off for a prize fight on the way, got drunk and surfaced a day later. A day too late, as it turned out, for I had been born the night before.'

'That,' Ashe said austerely, 'is outrageous.'

'Mama put it rather more strongly, apparently. But she loved him, at least enough for Gregory to be conceived. After that we hardly saw him. Money would arrive erratically.'

And then Mama had become ill and so, with no family alive on her mother's side, Phyllida had set out for London to find Papa. But that had cost more than she had imagined. He was not to be located, not immediately, so she had to pay for lodgings and food and gradually she had become more and more desperate until there had been only one stark choice. Sell the last thing of value she had, or starve and fail her mother and brother.

'Miss Hurst?'

She started, looked up and found Ashe watching her, his faint frown at odds with the relaxed pose he still held. 'Sorry. I was just remembering. It was not a happy time. But that is all in the past now. Anna, we must pack and prepare for a trip of- How long, Lord Clere?'

'Five days? We can do the journey in a day, easily, I understand, so that would give you three to a.s.sess the situation. I hoped to leave the day after tomorrow at nine.'

'Very well. I will be waiting.'

Phyllida found herself staring rather blankly at Ashe's broad shoulders as he made his way out in Anna's wake. Had she just made a terrible mistake in trusting his discretion? The consequences of this getting out were serious. Not for her reputation, as such, for if Ashe said his great-aunt was to be there as chaperon, she was certain she would be. But she was risking being exposed as a dealer, as not just dabbling in trade, but being deeply immersed in it.

It was, she thought with a sigh, thoroughly unfair. If Gregory pulled off the successful wooing of a mercantile heiress he would be warmly congratulated by everyone and his wife accepted everywhere.

'Penny for them?' Her brother was lounging in the doorway, an amused smile on his face at her abstraction.

'I was just thinking about you. Have you seen Harriet today?'

'Barely ten minutes ago. I took her walking in Hyde Park under the eye of her mama. The approving eye, I flatter myself.' He came and sat down where Ashe had been, another long-legged, attractive aristocrat to grace the little room.

Phyllida's conscience gave a twinge. 'You do like Harriet, don't you, Gregory? Really feel some affection for her, I mean? I like her very much and I would hate to think she was going to end up the loser in a transaction between her parents and you.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Are you asking if I will be faithful to her?'

'Well, yes, I suppose I am. And kind to her, a proper companion. She is too intelligent and sensitive to be fobbed off while you gallivant about town spending her money.'

'Ouch.' To her surprise he neither laughed it off or became angry. 'You are right, of course. If she was one of those empty-headed little geese who only wants a t.i.tle it wouldn't matter, but I do like her and I think we could make a go of it.' He grimaced. 'If she'll have me.'

'Are you going to speak to her father?'

'They've asked me to their box at the theatre on Monday. I was going to see how Millington seems towards me then. If he looks amiable, I'll go and talk to him on Tuesday. If he's starchy, I'll expose them all to my many charms and talents for a few more days before I put it to the test.'

'Would you mind if I left town for a while?'

'No, of course not. Where are you going? Amanda Lewis in Ess.e.x?'

It was harder to explain than she thought it would be. Phyllida found herself scrabbling round for the right way to word it, almost as though she had a guilty conscience. This is business, she told herself. 'Lord Clere has asked me, on behalf of his father, to a.s.sess some items at their country seat in Hertfords.h.i.+re. I would need to leave the day after tomorrow. It should take about five days in all.'

'That's good,' Gregory said. 'I should imagine you'll get on well with the marchioness and Lady Sara. Finding the pace in town a bit hectic and needing a rest, are they?'

'Actually...' Oh Lord, how to put this? 'They aren't going. Nor the marquess. Lord Clere is arranging a chaise for me and Anna.'

Gregory, it seemed, was not quite as relaxed as he looked. 'What?' He sat bolt upright. 'Are you telling me you are going off with that rake?'

'He is not a rake! Is he?' she asked, suddenly dubious. 'How do you know?'

'It takes one to know one,' her brother said darkly.