About the Author

Award-winning author ANNE HERRIES lives in Cambridgeshire. She is fond of watching wildlife and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature and sometimes puts a little into her books—although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment and to give pleasure to her readers. She invites readers to contact her on her website, www.lindasole.co.uk.

Regency
Mischief & Marriage

Secret Heiress

Bartered Bride

Anne Herries

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Secret Heiress

Anne Herries

Prologue

Autumn 1818

‘Eliza, my dearest.’ Mrs Bancroft held out her hand to her beloved adopted daughter. ‘Sit with me, my love. I have something to tell you.’

Eliza smiled and did as she was bid, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for her mother’s hand. ‘What is it, dearest Mama? Are you feeling worse? Is there anything I can do for you?’

‘No, I am just as always, but I think we should talk. You know that it is unlikely I shall see the winter out…’

‘Mama, please…’ Eliza begged. ‘Doctor Morris said that you were a little better when he called. When the spring comes you will start to get up again and then…’

Mrs Bancroft squeezed her daughter’s hand. ‘I know it is hard for you, dearest. We lost Papa two years since and now…’ She shook her head as tears sprang to Eliza’s eyes. ‘No, you must not grieve for me, Eliza. I have loved you dearly, but I fear we have not been quite fair to you. We should have tried harder to discover the name of your true mother.’

‘You are my mama,’ Eliza said. ‘I know that you did not give birth to me, but I love you dearly.’

‘You have been everything a daughter should be,’ Mrs Bancroft said. ‘You have been ours since Papa found you left in the church behind the altar one Sunday morning, but somewhere out there you have a mother and a father. Don’t forget that Papa saw a gentleman’s carriage driving away and I believe you are the daughter of quality. Your clothes were of the finest materials and the ring I found tucked in with them is beautiful. I have kept it safe for you, Eliza.’

‘You showed it to me,’ Eliza said. ‘It is very beautiful, but I do not see what use it can be. If my mother abandoned me, she must have had her reasons.’

‘Perhaps she had no choice. I do not think that any mother would give up their own baby willingly.’

‘I dare say you are right.’ Eliza smiled and kissed her. ‘I only know that I was fortunate to have been found and raised by you and Papa.’

‘The ring is at the bottom of my sewing box if you should need it.’

Mrs Bancroft sighed. ‘My head aches again. I think I should like a tisane if you would make it for me, dearest.’

‘Yes, of course.’

Eliza rose and went downstairs to the kitchen. She had always known she was not the true child of her parents, but their kindness meant that she lacked nothing. However, if she were truthful, she had sometimes thought of her birth mother and wondered who she was and why she had been forced to abandon her newly born baby.

Her mama had mentioned a valuable ring amongst her clothes. Why had her birth mother placed it there—was it in the hope that one day her daughter would look for her?

Eliza had wondered if her mother would one day come to visit and tell her why she had given her up. Since she had not, there was no way of knowing who she was or where she lived. It would be almost impossible to find her—unless she could find someone who recognised the ring, of course.

If her papa had been right about the carriage he had seen driving away belonging to a wealthy man, then her parents might be gentry or even aristocrats. Eliza was not used to moving in those circles, except for the occasional invitation to the local landowner’s house at Christmas for the tenants’ party. How could she ever hope to find her mother?

She put the bothersome thoughts from her mind as she entered the kitchen. It was small like the rest of the cottage, but there were only the two of them these days; though they had missed the beautiful rectory that had been their home, they had become accustomed to their situation. Eliza did most of the work and the nursing herself, though Betty came in once or twice a week to clean. She had been the Bancrofts’s maid for years and insisted on doing what she could for them even though they could pay her very little.

‘I would work for nothing,’ Betty had told Eliza a few days previously. ‘If your mama were not so proud, I would never have left her at all.’

‘Mama does not wish to be a burden.’

‘It is hardly right that you should do everything, love,’ Betty said. ‘You know where I am if you need me.’

While the kettle was heating, Eliza gathered the ingredients for a blackcurrant tisane, her mother’s favourite. Despite the unfortunate start to her life, she had been loved, cared for and guided in the way she should go. At the moment all her thoughts must be centred on the sick woman upstairs. There would be time enough to think of her future when she was alone.

Chapter One

Summer 1819

Daniel, Lord Seaton, stared out of the window of his London house. It was situated in one of the best areas of the city, in a quiet garden square. It suited him when he visited the capitol. However, he would probably have to sell the property to meet his debts, rather than let it to a tenant, as he had intended when he came up to town.

‘Damn you, Marcus,’ he muttered. ‘Why did you have to land me with your mess?’

He frowned at the letter in his hand. As if he did not have enough problems trying to bring his own estate back from the brink of ruin! His father had died of a putrid fever six months earlier, after foolishly losing more than ten thousand pounds at the tables—and to a man Daniel believed might be both a cheat and a rogue. Cheadle was known for his ruthless play, so what his father had imagined he was about, Daniel did not know. Yet it was not the only mistake the late Lord Seaton had made. Several poor investments meant that Daniel had mortgages on at least half the land. His father had settled the gambling debt, but the mortgages meant that Daniel would struggle for years to put the estate back on its feet again. While his father had every right to spend his fortune as he pleased, Cousin Marcus was another matter.

Daniel scanned the letter again.

Only you can help me, Daniel. His cousin had written the letter two days before the accident that had caused his death just three months previously.

My debts are more than ten thousand and I cannot pay unless I sell my estate. Father might cough up the readies, but he has been ill for months and I think if he knew what I have been about, it would kill him.

To tell the truth, cousin, I have been a damned fool. I got in over my head—-things I am ashamed to own. If you knew all, you would consign me to the devil and think that I deserve whatever is coming. I may be in some danger and if you hear I have died in an accident, I give you leave to doubt it.

There is someone I fear, but I dare not write his name. He would certainly kill me then. Believe me, cousin, I have done things of which I am ashamed—but I did not know the worst of him when he persuaded me to help him. I want to get away, to start again, but I fear he will not let me go. The debt is another matter and the marquis must be paid. Your father was not the only one to fall foul of Cheadle’s damnable luck. Forgive me for asking if you can help.

Your wretched cousin,

Marcus

What was he to make of the letter? Marcus had sent it to Daniel’s London club and, busy at his estate, he had not received it until he paid a flying visit to town to speak with lawyers about his London property. Now he would have to contact Cheadle and ask for the extent of his cousin’s debt to him. At this moment he was not sure if he could find the money without reference to his uncle, but he would certainly speak to the marquis.

However, the remainder of his cousin’s letter was a riddle. What had Marcus been trying to tell him? He knew Marcus well enough to be sure that his cousin would not write such a letter without good cause. Who was the man who would not let him go—and, more importantly, had his cousin’s death truly been an accident?

At the time of the funeral he had not questioned it. The Earl of Standish told him it was a riding accident, and Daniel had accepted his uncle’s explanation without question. Now, his cousin’s letter had made him suspect foul play. Marcus had always been an excellent rider. As young men they had been great friends, though in past years they had grown apart. Daniel had chosen to take up a military career and spent eight years fighting with Wellington in various campaigns. It was during his time away that his mother had died and his father had started to drink and gamble. He blamed himself for not being at home when he was needed, and though he had returned when his father became ill, resigning his commission, it had already been too late.

The last thing Daniel needed or wanted at this moment was a mystery to uncover. Yet he knew that he could not simply ignore his cousin’s cry for help. Marcus was dead, and perhaps he had done things that would not bear the light of day, but if he had been murdered… Daniel’s mouth thinned. His memories of a young man he had loved as a brother demanded that he seek out Marcus’s murderer and bring him to justice.

As for Cheadle, well, he would pay a visit to his club that evening and discover if the marquis was in town.

‘You said I could come to you, Betty,’ Eliza said when her mother’s former maid opened the door of her cottage that evening. ‘I am sorry to ask, and I will find work as soon as I can—but may I stay here for a few days?’

‘Put you out of the cottage has, he?’ Betty shook her head sadly. ‘You’ve no need to ask, my lovely. Come you in and sit by the fire while I make you something to eat. I was afraid Mr Jones would say you couldn’t stop there alone once your dearest mother was gone. It only surprises me that he let you stay this long.’

‘It isn’t his fault,’ Eliza said. ‘I know the earl would have told him it was his duty to put me out and take another tenant. I can’t afford to pay the rent now that Mama’s allowance has stopped unless I work—and I shall not find work here. I have asked but no one will take me on. They take one look at my hands and say I’m not suitable.’

‘Your hands are not as white as they once were,’ Betty replied with a fond glance. ‘You worked hard to keep your mama neat and clean and do the cooking. It wasn’t easy at the last.’

‘Poor Mama. I fear she suffered a great deal,’ Eliza said and sighed. She had grieved for the past six months, but knew now she must put her personal feelings aside and look for work. ‘What do you think I should do, Betty? If I am not suitable as a maid what can I do—should I try for a governess?’

‘I don’t think most mothers would take you on, Eliza. You are too pretty and you might tempt their husbands or their older sons.’ Betty looked thoughtful. ‘If I were you I should advertise. Offer your services as a companion to an elderly lady.’

‘Yes, I suppose that might answer…’ Eliza sighed. Her mama’s illness had kept her tied to the house for many months, and though she didn’t begrudge her mama a minute of her time, she had hoped for something a little more lively in her future. ‘I suppose I might find it difficult to find work as a governess, for I have no training—except that I know how to make pillows comfortable and how to mix tisanes that ease discomfort and induce sleep.’

‘You are also a good little cook, for I taught you myself,’ Betty told her. ‘If you take your time and choose the right position, it might be just the thing for you.’

‘Yes, I dare say you are right. I have little choice; there is no one to help me.’

‘Are there no relatives of your papa who might take you in?’ Betty asked. ‘You are welcome to stay with me, my love, but it isn’t fitting for you. I am sure your mother would like you to mix with people of your own class. She was the daughter of country gentry, as was your father.’

‘Yes…’

Eliza did not answer fully. Betty had never been told that she was not the birth child of her parents, and therefore had no claim on their families, though there was a letter from Mama’s brother in India. She had found it at the bottom of her mother’s sewing box with the ring. Of course she would not dream of approaching him, for they were in no way related.

The ring was valuable. Fashioned of a thick band of gold in which a large deep red ruby had been inset, it had an inscription on the gold band. It was a romantic inscription, which made her think that her parents must have loved each other—but why had they given her up? Leaving her behind the altar on a Sunday had ensured that she was found quickly, but the person who placed her there could not have known that the Bancrofts would adopt her. Had the mystery gentleman been so ruthless that he did not care?

Who had put the ring on the ribbon and hung it about her neck, hiding it beneath her baby clothes? It must have been a woman—her mother? Had she wanted her child to have something of hers—something that Eliza suspected must have been very precious to her?

Why had her mother given her away? Her mama had had no knowledge, of course, but had told Eliza during one of their last discussions that she believed Eliza was a love child.

‘Your mother may have been forced to give you up, Eliza. Indeed, I am sure she was, for no woman would give up her baby willingly. I know that I should not, whatever the consequences.’

Eliza had tried to brush the subject under the carpet. Her mama was the only mother she had known and she loved her dearly. While she lived, Eliza had given hardly a second thought to who her birth parents were, even if she could not help wanting to know more about her mother. Now her thoughts turned more and more to her true mother and she wondered if she ever thought of her… wished to see her. Yet how could she hope to discover the truth? Living in the country quietly, as she did, she had no chance of meeting anyone who might recognise the ring.

‘I shall send my advertisement to the papers in London and Bath,’ she told Betty with sudden decision. ‘The kind of position you suggest may be found amongst fashionable ladies who can afford to employ a companion to run around after them.’

‘That is the spirit, my love,’ Betty said and smiled at her. ‘The curate was here earlier. He asked me if I had seen anything of you recently, Eliza.’

‘I usually help with the church fête,’ Eliza said and looked rueful. ‘He has been a little too attentive of late and I have tried to avoid seeing him other than on Sunday morning, when it is impossible not to meet.’

Betty arched her brows at her. ‘Your papa was a vicar, Eliza. Young Mr Stanley will have his own living one day. You could do worse than encourage him. Not that you need think of marriage just yet, of course. You are only twenty this summer and there is plenty of time, but being the wife of a clergyman may be better than a companion’s life.’

‘If I liked Mr Stanley, I should think it an ideal life, Betty—but he is too prissy in his ways. Had he been like Papa, I should have encouraged him long since.’

‘Well, I suppose he has some odd mannerisms—and he isn’t good enough for a lovely girl like you.’

‘I am not pretty, Betty.’ Eliza blushed delicately. She was tall and slender, her hair a rich dark brown and her eyes the colour some people called hazel. Her complexion was a little on the pale side, but she had a wonderful smile, and it was when she smiled that she was at her best.

‘No, you’re not pretty in the accepted sense,’ Betty agreed. ‘But you have a beautiful nature, Eliza. Any man worth his salt would be fortunate to have you for a wife.’

Eliza laughed, her eyes bright with amusement. ‘Betty, you are so good for me. I feel much better being here. I should have given up the cottage sooner instead of trying to keep it on. I have arranged for the few things that I decided to keep to be brought here on the cart. The rest of it will be sold at the market and I shall use it to pay for my keep until I can find work.’

‘That you will not unless you want to have a falling out with me and my Ted,’ Betty said stoutly. ‘He’s as fond of you as I am and he won’t take a penny of your money, Eliza. You write out your advertisement, my love, and Ted will take it to town this very afternoon when he goes, and send it off for you, but take money for your keep he will not—and that’s final.’

Eliza felt tears sting her eyes. She was so lucky to have such good friends. ‘I do not know what I should have done without you both while Mama was ill.’

‘You would have managed, for you bore the brunt of it,’ Betty told her. ‘I helped where I could and so did my Ted. He was only saying last night as it was time you had some luck, and so it is.’

‘Well, who knows what may happen?’ Eliza said. ‘I shall advertise for a post and perhaps fortune will smile on me.’

‘Go through to the parlour and write your letter in peace and I’ll make us some toast and a nice pot of tea for a treat.’

Eliza thanked her and did as she was bid, going into the neat room that was used on Sundays and for company. She sat down at the writing table in front of the window and picked up the pen. There was paper and ink in the drawer; Ted worked as a clerk at the office of the Earl of Standish’s estate manager and occasionally brought his work home to finish in the evenings.

She wrote out two adverts, one for The Times in London and another for a paper that published in Bath. The receiving office in Norwich would send them off and accept the fee on behalf of the paper.

Eliza sat for a moment, staring out at the view. Betty’s garden was a riot of early summer flowers and their perfume floated in through the open window. While she was here she could at least help with the garden—it was one of her chief pleasures.

Should she also write to Mama’s brother and tell him of his sister’s death? She was not sure if he already knew or even if he were still alive and living in India. She did not wish to appear as if she were asking for help. However, perhaps it was only polite to inform him.

She hesitated and then picked up her pen once more. She would write a brief note giving the bare facts and leave it at that—surely there could be nothing wrong in informing Mr Henry Jarvis of Mrs Bancroft’s death?

Sealing her letter, she picked up her reticule and put on her pelisse. If she hurried to the estate manager’s office, she might be in time to catch Mr Wright before he visited the ancient wool town of Norwich this afternoon.

She wondered how long it would be before she received an answer to her request for work. Would anyone be interested in employing a girl like her? She had no experience, except for a little nursing. Perhaps someone would think that sufficient. She could only hope she would receive an answer; despite what Betty had told her, she could not be a burden to her friends for ever.

Betty smiled when she went through to the kitchen. ‘Have you written your letters?’

‘Yes, I have. I shall walk down to the estate office with them now—unless you need me?’

‘There is nothing for you to do,’ Betty assured her. ‘It is a nice afternoon and the walk will do you good.’

A few minutes later, Eliza set out for the earl’s estate office. It was not too far, for the Wrights’ cottage was on the Standish estate and the morning was pleasantly warm. Eliza liked to walk whenever she could, though she had had little opportunity the previous summer when her mother was first ill, and had been making the most of this one. In consequence, her complexion was not as pale as it had been.

Perhaps because she was dreaming a little, she did not become aware of the horseman until he was almost on her. Startled, she turned to see the great black stallion racing towards her at speed, so she threw herself to the side of the narrow road, landing on her hands and knees in a bramble bush.

‘Damn you, sir! I said whoa,’ a voice cried loudly. She heard more cursing and a horse neighing as if in protest as it was reined in, then, moments later, ‘Forgive me, miss. My mind was elsewhere and I was not thinking that someone might be around that bend in the lane.’

Eliza rose to her feet as a gentleman in riding dress bent over her. He gave her his hand to steady her and she blushed as she found herself looking up into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. He stood head and shoulders above her and Eliza considered herself tall for a woman. The stranger was broad shouldered and of a powerful build; she thought him one of the handsomest men she had met.

‘I… was dreaming myself,’ she confessed. ‘Had I heard you sooner, I should have moved out of your way, sir. I trust your horse has suffered no harm?’

‘That is generously said.’ The gentleman smiled at her, a hint of relief in those devastating eyes. ‘Are you hurt, Miss…? Forgive me, I do not know your name.’

‘I am Eliza Bancroft,’ she replied and her cheeks were pink as he continued to hold her hand for longer than necessary. ‘I grazed my hands as I fell, but they will soon mend.’

‘May I see your hands?’ He turned her hands over and saw the slight graze on the right one and the spot of blood. Bending his head, he licked the wound with his tongue, sending a spasm of shock and incredible feeling curling through her. Eliza jerked and removed her hand from his grasp instantly. He looked surprised, then conscious, as if just realising what he had done. ‘Forgive me. I meant nothing wrong. My mother always said that licking the wound took the sting away. I have nothing to help you—unless my neckcloth as a bandage…’

‘No! It is not necessary,’ she said, feeling embarrassed by her feelings, which were quite inappropriate. ‘Thank you, I shall be home soon enough and my friend Betty will tend my hand for me, though I think it is no more than a scratch from the bramble.’

His eyes seemed to burn into her for long moments, then, ‘My apologies, Miss Bancroft. My mind was elsewhere. I am on my way to visit my uncle. He is expecting me and I did not wish to be late…’ He hesitated, as if unsure of what to do next. ‘If there is anything I can do…?’

‘No, sir,’ she replied instantly. ‘I am perfectly able to manage alone, thank you. Pray continue. I should not wish to make you late for your appointment.’

‘Standish is a testy old devil at times, but he has been ill and I am anxious about him, so I should go…’ He seemed unwilling to leave her, but in quite a hurry.

‘Yes, of course, please do,’ Eliza replied. ‘I would not keep you. I am perfectly able to continue.’

‘If 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?’

‘What makes you think that, sir?’

‘No reason. Just don’t trust the man.’

‘Well, neither do I—but I don’t think him a murderer. He may be ruthless at cards, perhaps even a cheat, though he played fair with me the other night—but I doubt he was involved in my cousin’s death.’

‘Well, I wish you good luck, but don’t get killed, my boy. I am relying on you to guide my heir if I pop off before he is old enough to manage the estate.’

‘I shall be delighted to help young Paul if I can.’

‘That was my hope. You will tell me whatever you discover?’

‘Of course. When I am certain.’

‘You have no immediate plans for marriage, I take it?’

‘None at the moment, sir. I am not sure any young woman would put up with me. I have little to offer.’

The earl shook his head. ‘Do not put yourself down, my boy. Walk down to the estate office with me, Daniel. I have a building project I should like your advice on.’

‘Willingly.’ Daniel set his glass down. ‘I shall be pleased to see your plans for the new cottages.’

‘Well, Miss Eliza, so we shall be losing you soon.’ Mr Jones, the estate manager, smiled at her as she explained her reason for bringing in the letter. ‘But you will enjoy living in Bath or London, I dare say—more life for you there than here, I imagine.’

‘I like being in the country, sir,’ Eliza replied. ‘I shall miss my friends here, but it is time I started to support myself.’

‘Mrs Jones would have taken you at the house if there were a mistress,’ the manager said. ‘I had a word with her a while ago, but there was only menial work and she didn’t think it right that Parson Bancroft’s daughter should scrub floors. She will be very pleased to learn you are to apply for a position as a companion to a lady. She was only saying last night that it was what you ought to do.’

‘That was kind of her,’ Eliza replied. She knew the estate manager had let her have the cottage for longer than he truly ought, because there were estate workers needing a place to live. ‘Give your wife my good wishes, sir. I should get back now. I want to give Betty a hand with the garden.’

‘I’ll send your letters later this afternoon,’ Ted Wright promised. ‘Take care now, lass.’

‘Yes, I shall,’ Eliza said and opened the door to leave. She was startled by the arrival of two gentlemen who had been about to enter, flushing as she saw the earl and the man whose horse had almost knocked her down earlier. ‘I beg your pardon, my lord.’

‘No matter,’ the earl said, his eyes narrowing in recognition. ‘Ah, yes, Miss Eliza Bancroft. I was sorry to have to ask you to leave the cottage, but Jones told you we had a family waiting for it, I dare say? And I did not feel it was quite safe for you to stay there alone, considering the situation locally. You will have heard of the missing girls, not girls of quality, of course, but still it is worrying. You have settled in with Wright and his wife, I believe?’

‘Yes, my lord.’ Eliza dipped a curtsy, understanding his reasoning for more than one young village girl had gone missing over the past two years. ‘I knew I could not stay for ever, sir. Besides, I hope to find work soon, perhaps in London or Bath.’

‘Well, that is excellent news,’ the earl said. ‘Ah, Jones, I am glad I caught you. I wanted to take another look at the plans for the new cottages.’

As the earl moved off to speak with his manager, Eliza looked at the younger man. His eyes went over her, brows lifted in a question.

‘You are recovered from your fright, Miss Bancroft?’

‘Yes, thank you, sir. I was not truly hurt at all,’ she said, but her heart did a little flip as she caught the pleasant scent of cologne that hung about him. She recalled the feeling that had shot through her when he licked her hand and felt her cheeks burn. ‘Excuse me, I must not keep you from your business.’

He inclined his head and moved aside, but she felt his eyes on her as she went out through the open door. After a few steps she looked back and saw he was still watching her. She had never seen eyes quite as arresting as his before. Not knowing why, she gave him a wide smile and a little wave before turning back and walking away. Her heart was beating too fast and she wondered why this second meeting within a short space of time should affect her so much?

Eliza smiled to herself. If Daniel Seaton were going to visit his uncle more often, it might be best that she would soon be leaving Norfolk. It would not do for her to meet him too often, because she could easily begin to like him more than was wise for a young woman of her station.

Chapter Two

‘Oh, that is a nuisance,’ Betty said as she looked at the milk jug she had taken from the cold pantry the following morning. ‘The milk has curdled and I was going to make a rice pudding for Ted’s supper.’

‘May I go to the farm for you?’ Eliza asked. ‘I can be there and back in an hour; there will still be plenty of time for you to make that pudding.’

‘What a thoughtful girl you are,’ Betty said approvingly. ‘If you would not mind, it would be a big help to me.’

‘It is no trouble at all,’ Eliza said, taking sixpence from the shelf and the big jug from the pantry.

She set out for the farm, which was just across the fields from her friend’s cottage. Somewhere above her head a lark was singing and the grass in the wild meadow was almost waist high. She was singing to herself, enjoying the warmth of the sun when she suddenly saw the man walking towards her through the long grass. Her heart caught a beat as he smiled and came up to her.

‘Good morning, Miss Bancroft. You seem happy this morning?’

‘It is such a lovely day,’ she replied. She could not help remarking how blue his eyes were, thinking them a match for the cloudless sky. His smile brought an answering one from her. ‘How do you go on at your uncle’s? Do you mean to stay long?’

‘Only a few days, unfortunately,’ Daniel Seaton replied and then frowned. ‘I think my uncle mends, but he is not as well as I should like.’

‘I am sorry to hear that, sir.’

Eliza found that he was walking beside her, clearly intending to accompany her to the farm.

‘He took my cousin’s death hard,’ he continued. ‘However, he is better than he was the last time I was down.’

‘Did you come at Christmas? I know the earl felt unable to host his usual celebrations.’

‘Yes, I was down at Christmas, but I have not seen him since. I have been in London and at my estate…’ His eyes darkened, making Eliza think he dwelled on something that pained him.

They had reached the farm gate. He opened it for her and stood back. She felt that he had withdrawn into himself.

‘I shall leave you here, Miss Bancroft. I have an errand to run…’

‘Goodbye, sir. I hope your uncle will soon be well again.’ Eliza watched him walk away, feeling puzzled. For a few moments he had seemed as if he meant to flirt with her, but then something had changed him. It was just as well, for she found him far too attractive.

***

Daniel was thoughtful as he left the young woman. He had just come from visiting the home of Jed Bailey. Unfortunately, the groom had disappeared two days previously. His mother said he had been restless and she thought he had taken it into his head to visit his cousin in Bristol.

‘There’s been something on his mind for weeks, sir,’ Mrs Bailey said. ‘I asked him what had upset him—and why he left the earl’s employ—but he wouldn’t tell me. He seemed excited and then… well, to tell you the truth I thought he was scared, sir. Then he came in, in a hurry, like, took his horse and said he was off to Bristol to see his cousin.’

‘If he should return, please ask him to come and see me.’ Daniel gave her one of his cards.

‘Yes, sir, of course.’ Mrs Bailey smiled as Daniel slipped a coin into her hand. ‘I expect it is just restless feet—you know how young men are, sir.’

Daniel agreed he did and left her. His enquiries in the village so far had been of some help, though he was troubled by what he had discovered. Marcus had certainly been at the inn for two hours on the afternoon of his death. The landlord said he was in a bad mood, and that he sat talking to a gentleman in the corner for an hour or more before the stranger left.

‘Did you know the man?’ Daniel asked.

‘No, sir. He was not local—but a gentleman, I would say. A surly cove. When one of my serving wenches went over to the table and asked if they wanted more wine he told her to stay away, for their talk was private.’

‘Is the girl here, landlord?’

‘No, sir, more’s the pity. Molly was a good worker. She went off the day after your cousin was killed—and never even told her mother where she was going. She’s not the first, but I didn’t think Molly was the flighty sort. There have been others go off, some would say gone missing, but I reckon they went to London to make their fortune—if you understand me. Still, Molly were a quiet girl and I thought she had a local lad.’

‘If you should hear anything you think might interest me, please send me word.’ Daniel gave him his calling card and two guineas for his trouble.

‘Yes, sir. I will let you know if Molly comes back.’ The landlord was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Does the name Cheadle mean anything to you, sir?’

‘Yes, it does—why?’ Daniel’s gaze narrowed intently.

‘The name was mentioned between them, sir. Molly heard them arguing—and your cousin said, “I can’t ask Cheadle to wait for ever.” The other man said, “Cheadle is dangerous. If you cross him, you may regret it, but he is a poodle compared to you know who…” I don’t know if that is useful, sir?’

‘It may be,’ Daniel said and frowned as he nodded to the landlord and gave him another guinea. ‘Thank you. Please contact me if you remember more.’

‘You may be certain I shall, sir.’ The landlord pocketed the money and smiled to himself.

There Daniel had left his investigations for the moment. He thought he might have to employ the ser vices of an investigative agent to search for Molly and Jed Bailey. It was strange that two young people had gone off without a word—unless they had run off together?

His thoughts were busy after his brief meeting with Miss Eliza Bancroft. The pieces had been all jumbled up at the start, but they seemed to be coming together in his mind. He was reaching for something, but was not quite there.

He was determined to discover more about his cousin’s death, because he was almost certain now that Marcus had been murdered. The horse had been left outside the inn for some time and it was perfectly possible that someone had tampered with the saddle while it was there.

So the opportunity was obvious, and the likely suspect the man Marcus had been arguing with in the inn—but where was the motive?

It was after meeting Miss Bancroft that Daniel suddenly remembered that both his uncle and the landlord had spoken of other young local women going missing. Could the disappearance of these girls and his cousin’s death be linked? It hardly seemed likely and yet Marcus had hinted at something dark and sinister in his letter.

It would bear investigation, even though the truth might be hard to swallow. Drinking, gambling and tumbling the local girls were things that many young gentlemen indulged in—but snatching girls from their homes was quite another. Daniel had no illusions about what happened to the young girls; they would be taken either to whorehouses or, even worse, sent abroad to be sold into the harems of rich potentates.

No, surely Marcus would never become involved in something like that—or had he been drawn into it innocently and then felt trapped? Daniel knew that his cousin had had a wild side, but he did not think him evil. Perhaps he had not known what was going on—and when he had found out he threatened to expose those behind it?

Daniel felt cold. He had no proof whatsoever, but he believed he might have stumbled on a clue.

He was not sure what part the Marquis of Cheadle might have played in this shady business. His name had been mentioned between Marcus and the stranger—but whether he was actually involved with the snatching of local girls was dubious. Daniel would not have thought it—but then, he would not have expected his cousin to become involved in such a disgusting traffic.

The marquis would bear watching. Daniel had been inclined to send back the ring he had won from him to Cheadle’s London address, but now thought he would hang on to it. There was an inscription inside it that must be called romantic and therefore it might have some significance to the marquis. Perhaps it might be used as a bargaining tool, for if Cheadle knew something of this murky business he would not disclose it without persuasion.

Having settled the business in his mind, Daniel let his thoughts stray once more to the lovely Miss Eliza Bancroft. He was not sure why she had lingered in his mind. There were other more beautiful girls of his acquaintance who would not be averse to some attention from him, but most of them left him cold. Miss Bancroft interested him.

He would have liked to get to know her better while he was here, but his present situation was not conducive to any kind of relationship with a decent young woman. Had things been otherwise, he might have stayed longer with his uncle and found excuses to indulge in some light dalliance with the young lady—not that she would have permitted more than a kiss or two. He had no doubt that she was chaste, hence the delicious blush he had noticed on earlier occasions.

He would not go out of his way to seek another meeting with her, Daniel decided, though he could not pretend that he was not intrigued.

No, he must not let his purpose wander! He must seek another meeting with Cheadle at the earliest opportunity and ask him what he knew of Marcus’s affairs. If Cheadle lied, Daniel would know—and then he would leave no stone unturned to bring down all those responsible for his cousin’s death.

‘You asked me to call?’ Henry, Marquis of Cheadle, looked at the woman sitting so calmly in her boudoir. In her lilac-lace peignoir and a fetching cap she was as beautiful as she had been years ago when he had fallen madly in love with her. He had not seen her for some years, because she had lived quietly in the country, seldom visiting London or Bath, but it seemed that she intended to make a change now that she was a widow. ‘I was sorry to hear about the death of your husband, Sarah. Manners was no friend of mine but I dare say you will miss him?’

‘You know my feelings about Lord Manners,’ Sarah, Lady Manners, replied, only a tiny pulse in her throat giving a hint of the emotion she was keeping in check. ‘I stayed with him because of my son, and for no other reason.’

‘You were a fool, Sarah. You should have called his bluff—how often do you see Howard now?’

‘Very rarely,’ she admitted and sighed deeply. ‘My son is exactly like his father. I have seen him once since he inherited the estate. We quarrelled after his father’s death and he declines to visit me. Besides, I choose to live in the country and he prefers London.’

‘Where he squanders the fortune he inherited. You should speak to him, Sarah. If he continues as he is, he will come unstuck and lose everything.’

‘Howard takes no notice of anything I say.’ She raised her eyes to his. ‘You know what I want, my lord. You have always known. My health is not good. Soon it will be too late for me to get to know our child…’

‘I’ve told you before, I do not know where the child is now, Sarah. I promised that I would make no attempt to find the babe and I have kept my word. The lawyer saw to everything. I merely paid for the arrangements, as your husband demanded in settlement of his terms. I have never known the name of the people to whom the lawyer gave our child. Had I not agreed to his terms, Manners would have treated you more harshly than he did.’

‘But you know the lawyer involved, do you not?’

‘Yes, for I made payments for the child’s upkeep until last year…’ he admitted it reluctantly. ‘Are you sure you wish to do this, Sarah? Your reputation has remained spotless. Only a few friends knew of your confinement. Do you truly wish to risk exposure at this stage?’

‘I am lonely, Henry. And I wish to atone for my earlier wrongdoings.’

‘But how long will it be before the truth comes out?’

‘Why should it ever be known? Do not fear that I shall reveal your name, Henry. Even if my part were suspected, you would remain anonymous.’

He looked at her in silence for some moments, then inclined his head. ‘Very well. I shall look out the lawyer’s address. I believe I have it somewhere.’

‘Thank you. I am grateful. I was not sure you would come today.’

The marquis raised his brows. ‘I am not the monster rumour would have me, Sarah. I could not refuse you such a request, though I gave my word to Manners that I would never tell you anything.’

Sarah stood up. She moved towards him, laying her hand on his arm. ‘Has life been terrible for you, Henry? I thought of you so often, wished that things had been otherwise. Especially when I heard…’

‘That I had gone to the devil?’ A wry smile touched his mouth. ‘I decided that I would never give my heart again and so I married for money, though later I inherited more than I could ever need. My wife hates me and I have no love for her. I care only for my daughter, Marianne. I ask you not to tell me if you discover the truth about the child. Manners never told me whether we had a daughter or a son—’ He put out his hand to silence her as she would have told him. ‘It was for the best. I put the whole thing from my mind and to know now might be to open Pandora’s box. I cannot afford scandal for Marianne’s sake. I have hopes that she will marry into the peerage.’

‘I have heard that she is a very beautiful girl,’ Sarah said. ‘I am glad you have someone, Henry.’

‘My daughter is both lovely and innocent. If it were not for her, I should have asked my wife for a divorce long ago.’

‘Is there someone else you care for?’ Sarah looked at him steadily, without revealing a flicker of emotion.

‘You know there was only one woman I loved. If, after Marianne is married, I could arrange a divorce…?’

‘No, Henry. It was too long ago, my dear. Once I would have given everything to be with you, but it is too late.’

‘We could still be together. We were lovers once. Why not again?’

‘Because I was younger then. I am older than you, Henry. It was one of the reasons I refused to leave my husband. I did not wish to ruin your life.’

‘How could you have ruined my life? It meant nothing to me without you. Let me take care of you, Sarah—let me make up for the lost years.’

‘It is too late. My health is not good, Henry. I have settled for a quiet life in the country. You are still young enough to find a new love. I ask nothing more of you than the address I need.’

‘I would ask no more of you than affection.’ For a moment his eyes beseeched her, then, as he saw the answer in her face, his expression became cold, withdrawn. ‘Very well, madam. I shall send you what you need. I do not expect to hear from you again.’

Sarah sank back into her elegant elbow chair, her hands to her face as the door closed behind him. He was still angry and bitter, blaming her because she had given into her husband’s blackmail.

If only she had been stronger. How different her life might have been if she had been brave enough to leave her husband and go with Henry, as he had begged her.

Her marriage to Manners had been a disaster from the start. Her husband had never loved her. He had had a mistress in London and spent all his time with her. Once Sarah had given him his heir, he had not bothered to visit her bed again. Lonely and unhappy, she had turned to a young man who gave her everything she lacked from her husband. Henry had been the most generous of lovers, sweet and giving.

At the time of their affair he had not yet inherited his uncle’s title and had had little in the way of fortune. He was also three years her junior and on the verge of making his career in the army. Lord Manners had known at once that her child was not his. He’d forced her to reveal the name of her lover and then threatened to ruin Henry if she went off with him. She had been forced to break off their affair and to give up her lovechild as soon as she was born. Her daughter had been snatched from her arms only hours after she had given birth, taken from her cruelly by her unforgiving husband. Lord Manners had never told her where the child had been taken; even after his death, he had tried to keep the secret from her.

He had inserted a clause in his will to make certain that she could not find her daughter. If she made the attempt, she would give up the right to live in the Dower House at Trowbridge and she would lose her jointure. She would have nothing left but the fortune her grandfather had left in trust for her, which her husband had refused her for as long as he could. Now that he was dead, half the capital and the income was hers entirely, the remainder of the capital to be divided between her children on her death. Her son had not known of the existence of a half-sister until he read the will, and he had accused her of vile things before storming out of the house and taking himself off to London.

Her husband’s vindictiveness had not hurt Sarah; she had long ceased to care and nothing he did could surprise or distress her. She would be sorry to leave the house she had moved to after his death, for it was pleasant and enabled her to see her son on the rare visits he paid to his estate. However, she had no intention of letting her husband’s unkindness stop her at least trying to discover the whereabouts of her lovechild.

A smile touched her lips. She had loved Henry and in those days he had loved her deeply. The tales she had since heard of him had been distressing; her husband had made certain she heard of the worst of his excesses, but the young man she remembered was still dear to her.

She had reached her decision with the calm deliberation that was her way these days. She would use some of the capital to purchase a house in Bath, a city that suited her much better than London and where she still had a few friends. Then she would try to find her daughter and be damned to the consequences.

‘I am sorry, Eliza,’ Ted Wright said as she looked at him expectantly. ‘There was nothing for you at the reception office again today.’

‘Oh…’ Eliza sighed. It had been ten days now and she was beginning to think that she would never receive an answer to her advertisement. It seemed as if she might have to go into Norwich and ask at the employment agency for domestic servants. Perhaps she had set her sights too high and would have to settle for something more menial. ‘Thank you. I had hoped, but I suppose these things take time.’

‘You may need to put in a second notice, but there is no hurry, Eliza. You are very welcome to stay with us for as long as you please.’

Eliza thanked him, but her spirits sank a little for she did not wish to be a burden to her friends for too long. She would wait one more week, then, if she heard nothing, she would look for employment through the agency.

Lady Sarah looked through her post when it was brought up to her by her maid and sighed. Most of it would be invitations to dine or attend the theatre or some other function. She had been in Bath for just three weeks and already she was inundated by invitations. It was very kind and generous of her friends, but she was used to a quieter life and uncertain whether the new social circle she had found here would suit her on a permanent basis.

She could return to the Dower House and give up her search for her daughter, but that would be to admit defeat. She had been waiting for a letter these past several weeks, but so far the lawyer had not replied to her request for details of her daughter’s whereabouts. He was being very stubborn and she could not think why.

She opened the newspapers that had been delivered that morning. The Times was always a day late, because it was sent through the post from London, and the local paper had lain unnoticed on her dressing chest all the previous day. She had spent the whole day visiting and had decided to keep to her bed a little longer this morning.

She poured a cup of the dark chocolate she enjoyed, sipping from the delicate cup that was part of a Dresden breakfast set. The chocolate was a little bitter, but she preferred it to tea or coffee at this hour. Sipping its richness, she opened The Times and turned to the page she was interested in. Although her maid, who had been with her for years, had been perfectly adequate for her needs in the country, Sarah had become aware that she required a companion here in Bath. She had hoped to find her daughter and ask her to stay, but as yet that was beyond her, though if the lawyer did not soon answer her letter she would employ an agent to find the child… girl. Her daughter would be twenty by now.

Running her finger down the list of young women searching for a position as a companion, Sarah stopped at one that appealed to her.

The headline read:

Sensible young woman recently bereaved seeks a position as companion.

I have nursed my mother and am well able to make beds comfortable, prepare tisanes and read in a pleasant voice. I can cook, embroider and mend and I do not mind light cleaning in the house. I am happy to run errands and look after an invalid. However, I have no previous experience of employment in this field.

Sarah smiled as she read the few lines. They seemed to speak from the heart and told her that the writer had never applied for a position before. The advert was a little naïve, perhaps, but that made it all the more appealing.

Sarah was not yet in need of a nurse, merely someone to run her errands and accompany her to the Pump Room and other functions. The young woman who called herself Eliza Bancroft seemed eminently able to fulfil that duty, and, if Sarah’s health grew worse, might be just the person she needed.

She was not going to give up the search for her daughter. Sarah was quite firm about that, but she saw no reason why she should not employ a companion in the meantime. She could afford it; she had the income from her grandfather’s estate. Because her husband had withheld it from her for so many years it had grown to a considerable amount. She had been quite shocked when her lawyer told her how much the accumulated capital was. Had her husband been able to touch it, she was sure he would have gambled it away to spite her, but her grandfather had been a canny Scottish gentleman. He had made sure that the capital and income could not be accessed by anyone but Sarah, or her children if she were dead. How that must have irked her husband. He had the power to prevent her from benefiting from the money while he lived, but he could not take it for himself.

Well, she had it now and no one to gainsay her. As yet her son, Howard, had not run through the fortune his father had left him, though she had heard from more than one source that he was likely to do so in time. Well, she would face that when the time came.

Getting up, she slipped on her peignoir, went over to the pretty lady’s desk near the window and sat in the elbow chair. She picked up her pen, dipped it in the glass inkwell and began to write. She would invite the young woman to come to her for a trial period of three months. If they suited she would continue the contract. In the meantime she might find her daughter.

Having written the polite invitation to join her in Bath and offered a salary of two guineas a month and her keep, Sarah felt satisfied that she would secure the services of the young woman. A girl of little experience was hardly likely to get a better offer. She hesitated for a moment, then took out a fresh sheet of paper.

My dear Marquis,

I had not intended to ask anything more of you, and I assure you this is the very last thing I shall ask, but I wondered if you could arrange to have a young woman fetched from Norwich? I have given her a day, place and time, which I have copied here for you. I am residing in Bath and it is a long way to send my carriage, which I need here. I know you have several carriages at your disposal—perhaps you would be kind enough to have Miss Bancroft brought here to me in the Crescent? I am not yet sure she will accept the position, but as the town of Norwich is not far from your Norfolk estate it might not be too much trouble to send the carriage on the off chance. I shall write again if Miss Bancroft accepts, but if you do not hear please send anyway.

Yours truly, Sarah

Satisfied with her letters, Sarah sanded and sealed both with wax and her signet. She was using her grandfather’s crest. He had left the ring to her and she liked it, wearing it on the middle finger of her right hand.

Smiling, Sarah returned to bed and resumed her breakfast, breaking the soft roll and spreading butter and honey. Had she been reckless in offering a position to a young woman simply on the basis of an advertisement? Her husband would certainly have disapproved. He had summarily dismissed her last companion as unsuitable despite her protests. After that she had managed with the services of her maid. Now she could please herself.

She was certain the young woman who had placed that advertisement was an honest and caring person, and as such she was more than qualified for the position. Sarah would give the letters to her maid when she came for the tray and then she would stroll to the Pump Room and meet her friends.

‘Here you are, my love,’ Betty said, coming into the kitchen one morning later that week. ‘My Ted picked this up for you this morning at the receiving office. Rather than wait until this evening to give it to you, he sent it with Farmer Jenkins’s boy. I think it must be a reply to your advertisement.’

‘At last…’ Eliza took it eagerly. More than two weeks had passed and she had almost given up hope of a reply. Breaking the impressive seal, she read the brief message and sighed with relief. ‘This is almost too wonderful to be true, Betty. I have been offered a position with a widowed lady in Bath—and on generous terms.’

She read the letter to Betty, who nodded her head with satisfaction. ‘Lady Sarah Manners,’ she said approvingly. ‘She sounds like a proper lady and her letter is everything it should be. It says that if you accept you will be met in Norwich market square on the twenty-fifth of July at twelve-thirty.’

‘I must write and accept at once, for that is only two weeks away,’ Eliza said. ‘I think I shall do it immediately and then perhaps Ted will take it into town for me tomorrow.’

‘I think he was going to town this afternoon. If you walked down to the estate office with it, he will take it with him when he goes.’

‘Yes, I shall,’ Eliza said. ‘I had begun to think that I would need to visit the employment office for young ladies in Norwich, but this is just what I need. Do you not think so?’

‘Yes, I dare say it may be,’ Betty said and smiled at her pleasure. ‘It is time something good happened for you, my love.’

‘I consider myself fortunate to have such friends as you and Ted,’ Eliza said and went through to the parlour to write her letter. When she had finished it, she put on her pelisse and bonnet and set out for the earl’s estate office.

***

The Marquis of Cheadle frowned over Lady Sarah’s letter. He had recognised the handwriting instantly and for a few heart-catching moments he had thought she wanted him to visit her again—that she might have changed her mind and be ready to take the first step towards going away with him. It was a ridiculous notion, but one that had taken root in his mind since he visited her. The idea was impossible, of course, for he had his daughter’s future to think of and that must take precedence over his own desires.

Cheadle had lived by his own rules. He was capable of being ruthless, though not actually the rogue some believed. For many years he had suppressed the ache that had never quite gone away, filled his empty life with gambling and high living, but recently the need for something more had overtaken him. He glanced at the letter again before slipping it into the top drawer of his desk as the door opened and his wife entered.

‘Yes, madam,’ he said coldly. ‘Was there something I may do for you?’

‘I wanted to make sure you would accompany us to Bath next week,’ Lady Cheadle replied, her mouth twisted sourly. ‘Accrington hasn’t come up to scratch and I think Marianne is moping. As you know, I had hopes that he would follow us from London, but he has not obliged. I have arranged to visit Bath; we may meet with better fortune there—but I wish you to come with us, at least for the first few days.’

‘Bath…’ The marquis frowned. ‘I had thought to return to London. I am not sure you should rush off to Bath in a hurry, Lady Cheadle. We are in no hurry to push Marianne off. If Accrington needs more time to consider, he must have it. I think he was sufficiently struck to make an offer, but his is an old name and family. He will want to discuss things with his family and his lawyers.’

He reached for the ring he habitually wore and felt its absence as he remembered it was lost, at least for now, given as promise of payment to Daniel Seaton. He would not wear another one, for the ring held memories that could not be replaced by another bauble. He frowned as he thought of the man, of whom he had seen nothing since that evening in town. Seaton might well sell the ring for he was entitled to and he could bear no love for a man who had won ten thousand from his father. Lord Seaton had been drunk. Cheadle had warned him to give up, but he had haughtily refused and the result was predictable. Yet Cheadle had a nagging conscience over it, for he had known the older man was too far gone to realise what he was about.

It was with an effort that he brought his mind back to what his wife was saying.

‘I am determined to go. If Accrington thinks he may lose her, it should bring him to the point sooner rather than later. Have I your assurance that you will accompany us?’

Cheadle narrowed his gaze. ‘Very well, madam. Have it your way. A few days here or there is nothing to me.’

‘I shall miss you,’ the earl said and sighed heavily. ‘Having you here has been a comfort to me, Daniel.’

‘I shall be sorry to leave you,’ Daniel replied. ‘However, there is estate business that takes me home.’

He also had the business of an agent to employ, and had arranged to meet the man in Norwich. He had decided to take up his uncle’s cause to find out the truth about Marcus’s death, and so had decided to stay with the earl whilst he put things in motion. It had taken a few days for the exchange of letters, because the man he had chosen was a Bow Street Runner and well recommended. Daniel knew that if his chosen investigator got a scent of something he would go for it like a terrier after a rat and he was eager for the man to begin his work.

After leaving his uncle, Daniel rode through the village. He saw the young woman who had been in his thoughts too often of late. She was standing outside the haberdashers, looking into the window, and an older woman was with her. They seemed to be intent on looking at some materials on display.

Daniel tipped his hat to her and slowed his horse to a standstill.

‘Good morning, Miss Bancroft. How are you?’

‘I am well, sir,’ she said. ‘I have had good news—I have been offered employment with a lady.’

‘Most generous terms they are, too,’ her companion said. ‘I wouldn’t part with my Eliza for the world, but she may get the chance to mix with quality, and that must be good for her.’

‘Good day to you both,’ Daniel said. ‘I must get on, for I have an appointment.’

He rode on by, conscious of the fact that something tugged at him and made him want to turn his head. Yet he conquered the need. He admired the young lady but at the moment he had more weighty matters on his mind than dalliance.

‘Are you sure you have all you need? Enough money to come back if the carriage isn’t there to meet you?’ Betty asked, looking at Eliza anxiously. ‘I’ve packed you some food for the journey, love.’

‘Thank you. I have all I need,’ Eliza said and hugged her again. She felt very emotional now the time to part had arrived, and her throat was tight. ‘You will answer my letters?’

‘You know I can’t write much,’ Betty replied. ‘My Ted will read yours to me and he’ll write what I want to say—but you are to write as soon as you get there and let us know you are safe and happy. If there is anything you need… anything you don’t like… you are to come back to us on the next mail coach. You have a home with us for as long as you like.’

‘Thank you, my dearest friend,’ Eliza said, tears springing to her eyes. She held them back because if she cried Betty would, too. ‘I have been so blessed in my friends. I shall write to you as soon as I can, but I am sure I shall do perfectly well. Lady Sarah sent me a guinea by special post for the journey after she got my letter. Was that not kind of her?’

‘I’m glad we made you that new travelling gown and pelisse,’ Betty said. ‘You look a proper young lady and that is only right for you will be mixing in company, I dare say.’

‘I think we may live very quietly. Lady Sarah said that she is a widow and her health is sometimes poor. I do not expect to go anywhere much, except perhaps to the Pump Room.’

‘The waters are supposed to be good for anyone sickly,’ Betty said. ‘Well, always remember you can come home if you’re unhappy, my love.’

‘Yes, I shall. I had better go, Betty. Ted is ready with the dogcart. I must not keep him waiting; I think he has business in Norwich.’

‘Off you go then, Eliza. Have a good time and be as happy as you can.’

Eliza went out to where her friend’s husband sat patiently waiting for them to say their goodbyes. The young groom came to help her in, grinned at her and stood back as Ted whipped up his horse.

‘She looks a proper treat,’ he remarked to Betty as they drove off. ‘Anyone would think she were quality.’

‘Well, she is and better than most,’ Betty said. ‘Thanks for your help with the trunk but you had better get off now or they will be looking for you at the stables.’

‘Yeah. Ain’t got a piece of yer gingerbread, ‘ave yer?’

‘I might have,’ Betty said and smiled. ‘Come into the kitchen and I’ll see what I can find.’

She cast one last regretful glance at the dogcart and went back into the cottage.

‘Well, here we are then, Eliza,’ Ted Wright said as he pulled the cart to a halt in the busy market square. He glanced round and nodded as he saw the carriage waiting close by the clock tower. The driver seemed to be looking about, as if expecting someone. ‘I’ll just go and ask if that’s the transport for Miss Eliza Bancroft.’

‘Surely it can’t be? A carriage like that for me?’ Eliza protested, but the groom was getting down and coming towards them.

‘Would you be Miss Bancroft?’ he asked, tipping his tall crowned hat respectfully.

‘Yes, I am. Did Lady Sarah send you to fetch me?’

‘I was sent to take you to Lady Sarah Manners in Bath,’ he said, an odd look on his face. ‘Can’t exactly say as she sent me. This carriage belongs to the marquis, miss.’

‘The marquis?’ Eliza was puzzled. ‘I don’t understand.

You have it right—you are to take me to Lady Sarah, my employer?’

‘Those are my instructions, yes. Is that trunk all you have with you?’

‘And my portmanteau,’ Eliza said. ‘I shall carry that—if you would help Mr Wright with the trunk, please?’

‘Yes, of course.’

The man turned away. Together, he and Ted strapped the heavy trunk on the back of the carriage and then Ted came back to her. He held out his hand, placing his other hand over hers as she took it.

‘Don’t forget, you can come home any time you like, Miss Eliza.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, glancing at the groom as he stood with the door open, waiting for her. She climbed in and waved to her friend from behind the window. Her mouth felt dry as she settled back against the comfortable squabs and her throat was tight. She was certainly to travel in luxury and that made her a little apprehensive. Why would the marquis send his carriage—whoever he was? For a moment she wondered if she were being abducted and then the absurdity of such a notion made her smile.

The groom knew the name of her employer. It was quite possible that the marquis was a friend of Lady Sarah and that he had agreed to bring her companion to her.

Feeling relieved to have settled the thing in her mind, Eliza sat back and took out the battered copy of a book she had bought from the second-hand stall at the market. It would serve to pass the time as they traveled, for she knew they would be some days on the road. She would need to take a room at more than one inn and she would have to rely on the coachman to find a decent house that was not too expensive for her purse.

Eliza looked out of the inn window and smiled as she saw it was yet another clear fine day. They had already been three days on the road and she would be glad when they reached Bath, which should not be more than another day at the most, for they had made good time. The Marquis of Cheadle’s carriage was well sprung and the journey had been less tiresome than it might have been had she travelled on the mail coach. She had been surprised to find herself staying at the finest inns on the road; when she tentatively asked how much she owed the first morning, she was told that the Marquis of Cheadle’s groom had settled the account.

Eliza had immediately tried to settle the debt, but the groom shook his head. ‘I was given me instructions clear, miss. You wus to ‘ave all the best and he would pay for yer lodgings.’

‘Oh…’ Somewhat taken aback by this statement, she was at first at a loss for words, then, ‘I suppose my employer has settled it with the marquis.’

‘Yes, miss. I dare say you are right.’

She moved away from the window and picked up her portmanteau, which contained all she required for her immediate needs. Her trunk had already been loaded on to the carriage and they were ready to leave again.

‘How much further have we to travel?’ she asked as the groom opened the door for her.

‘If we make good time and meet no accidents, we should reach Bath before dark this night, miss.’

‘Thank you.’ She smiled at him, relieved that only one day of travelling remained. She had finished her book and the last hours of the previous day had seemed tedious. ‘You are very kind.’

‘You are welcome, miss.’ He touched his hat. ‘I hopes as it is the lady you’re working for, miss.’

‘What do you mean by that? I told you at the start, I am to be a companion to Lady Sarah Manners.’

‘Right then, miss. Nothing to worry about then. Get in and we’ll be orf.’

Sarah climbed into the carriage, feeling puzzled once more. Something in the groom’s manner had disturbed her. She wondered why she was riding in such luxury and once again a shiver of apprehension slithered down her spine. Had she been naïve in accepting the first offer she received?

For a moment she felt a frisson of fear at the nape of her neck, but then she took a hold of her nerves. She was being very foolish. It was most unlikely that any marquis would go to so much trouble to abduct a girl he had never seen. She was hardly the most beautiful girl in the world. The thought made her laugh. She had been reading too many romances!

Daniel looked across the square and saw the carriage drawn up outside the inn just as the young woman entered it. He frowned, feeling concerned as he recognised her and the crest on the carriage. What on earth was Miss Bancroft doing in the Marquis of Cheadle’s carriage? Alarm bells began to ring in his head. He recalled that she had been pleased to receive a generous offer of employment—was she being lured to a false promise? Would she join the legion of the missing?

The thought of Miss Eliza Bancroft being sold into white slavery appalled him. He could not bear to contemplate such a thing. It must not be allowed to happen. He must do something—and quickly.

Eliza must be warned that the marquis was not all he seemed. If he had charmed her into believing that she would be his lover or his mistress… no, he would not permit it.

Somehow he must prevent her from plunging into a life of shame and degradation. Yet how could he prevent her? He must go after her—but how to stop the carriage? What could he say?

An idea so reckless and foolhardy that it made him laugh for sheer mischief came to his mind. He dismissed it instantly, but it returned and he felt that he must risk it for Eliza’s sake. He was not sure if she travelled alone, but if the marquis was with her in the carriage it would be necessary to disguise himself. A grim smile touched his mouth.

If Cheadle was involved in the vile gang that he believed was behind his cousin’s death, he would find out soon enough that he had an enemy.

Eliza was brought from her reverie by a shout of alarm from the coachman and then a violent jolting as the carriage came to a sudden halt. She was thrown from her seat and for a moment landed on her knees on the floor of the carriage. Picking herself up, she was about to look out of the window when the door was opened.

‘You had best get down, miss. I hope you wasn’t hurt?’

‘No, just shaken.’ She took the coachman’s hand. ‘What happened?’ she enquired as he helped her descend. ‘Have we…?’ She was about to ask if the carriage had suffered an accident, but seeing the masked rider caught her breath. ‘What are you doing, sir?’ He had a pistol directed at coachman’s chest. ‘That thing is dangerous…’

For a moment the highwayman seemed disinclined to answer. He sat his horse, staring down at them in silence.

Eliza lifted her head, anger making her impetuous. ‘I fear you have mistaken your victim, sir. I have only a few coins in my purse—and this ring.’ She felt for the ring she had found in her mother’s sewing box. It was still on the ribbon that had been with it, hidden under her baby clothes. She took out her purse and offered both it and the ring to the highwayman. ‘Please take these and allow us to go on. I beg you, do not harm these good men—they have done nothing to hurt you.’

‘Who are you?’ the masked man asked in a gruff voice she suspected was disguised. ‘Why are you riding in the Marquis of Cheadle’s carriage—what is he to you?’

He had accepted the purse and ring, which she noticed he examined before slipping them into his coat pocket. For a moment he hesitated, then beckoned her closer.

‘Come with me for a few minutes. I wish to speak with you.’

‘Don’t you listen to him, Miss Bancroft. He is a rogue and not to be trusted,’ the coachman cried and took a step towards her, stopping as the gun pointed in his direction once more.

‘I mean you no harm.’ The masked man bent down, offering his hand, then glanced at the coachman. ‘Wait for your passenger, man, and do not try to be a hero—or you will regret it. Remember, a wild shot might harm the young lady.’ He barked the words at the coachman, his pistol still aimed in his direction. ‘If you do anything foolish, your wife will be a widow this night.’

‘Please do as he asks. I am not afraid,’ Eliza instructed.

She gave the highwayman her hand. He grasped her arm and she clutched his saddle, instinctively jumping as he hauled her up before him.

‘Well done,’ he murmured in an approving tone that sent tingles down her spine. ‘You are quite safe. I do not kill women and children.’

Eliza shivered. At first she had been terrified by the sight of a masked, armed man, but for some unaccountable reason her fear had gone as he rode with her into the trees.

They travelled only far enough to be out of sight of the coachman before he halted. He dismounted and held out his arms. She slid down into them. For a moment he held her and she was aware of the pleasant smell of soap and a breath of cologne. He was very clean for a common highwayman.

‘Well, sir,’ Eliza said, her heart beating very fast, ‘what have you to say to me that could not be said in front of the coachman?’

‘Why are you travelling in that devil’s carriage?’ he demanded. ‘Do you have any idea what kind of a man he is? Whatever promises he has made you are likely to prove your downfall.’

‘The marquis has made me no promises. I have never met him. I am on my way to Bath, where I am to be employed by Lady Sarah Manners.’

The highwayman stared at her. Eliza felt a start of surprise as she noticed how blue his eyes were.

‘Is that the truth?’

‘Why should I lie to you?’

‘Where did you get this ring?’ He took her ring from his pocket, looking at the inscription inside for a moment before handing it to her. ‘What does it say?’

‘Love means more. Why do you ask?’

‘I have seen a similar ring before.’

Eliza’s heart raced. ‘I believe it was my birth mother’s ring. I never knew her, but my mama found it beneath my clothes when I was given to her as a baby.’ Her eyes entreated him. ‘Where have you seen a ring like mine?’

‘I took it from someone in a card game.’ He reached for her purse in his pocket, returning it to her. ‘I am not sure whether I should believe you, Miss Bancroft, but I do not rob young ladies who have no more than a few coins in their purse.’

‘Thank you.’ Her eyes were on his face. The mask covered most of it, but something about the set of his chin seemed familiar, as did the cologne he wore. She was certain she knew him. ‘Why were you concerned about my reasons for travelling in the marquis’s coach?’

‘I would not have an innocent girl fall into that trap.’

Her cheeks were pink. ‘You were good to be concerned for me, Mr Seaton, but I assure you I am not about to become any man’s mistress. As for the marquis, I have never met him.’

For a moment he was silent, then, ‘How did you know me?’ He muttered an oath beneath his breath. ‘Confound it! This is a coil, Miss Bancroft. I had hoped you would not recognise me. What gave me away?’

‘Your eyes and your chin—and your cologne,’ she said. ‘This is most awkward for us both, sir. Will you accept my word that I shall never reveal your identity on pain of death?’

‘Heaven forfend!’ Daniel said and laughed as he removed his mask. ‘I do not think you need to go so far, Miss Bancroft. Were you to be in danger of your life, you must certainly reveal my name.’

Eliza felt the laughter bubble up inside her. ‘How foolish this is! I do not think you are proficient at your profession, sir. May I enquire why you took it up?’

‘I must admit that this is my first attempt. I saw you get into the carriage where you made your last stop and feared you might be in trouble. It appears I was mistaken—but I could not allow you to go on in ignorance of the manner of man in whose carriage you rode. However, I did not wish to be seen by Cheadle, so I thought of the disguise to fool him if you were together—a disguise that seems not to have served me that well.’

‘I see…’ Eliza was thoughtful. ‘I must thank you for your concern for me—but, pray tell me, why did you not wish to be seen by the marquis?’

‘It is a matter I may not discuss with anyone—but I assure you I had good reason. And I beg you to have a care when dealing with him.’

‘I have no need of such advice. I told you, I have no intention of becoming any man’s mistress.’

‘Sometimes innocent girls are not given a choice in the matter.’

‘What do you mean?’ Her smooth brow wrinkled in thought. ‘Surely you do not think the marquis…? No, sir, that is monstrous. I have been treated with the greatest courtesy by his men. You are reckless and foolhardy and I cannot think you gave this foolish trick much consideration.’

‘You have no idea of what you speak,’ Daniel said harshly. ‘There are men capable of such infamy… things of which you can have no knowledge. Please continue your journey. I am sorry to have interrupted what was such a pleasant experience for you. When Cheadle leaves you pregnant and destitute—’

Eliza reached out and slapped him. Her eyes widened in distress as his mouth thinned with temper. ‘Oh, I am so sorry. I did not mean to…’

She turned away in embarrassment, but he caught her arm, swinging her back to face him. She had a moment to notice the angry passion in his eyes and then he caught her to him. His head bent as he took possession of her lips. The kiss was at first demanding, angry, but then it softened, becoming sweet and pleasing. Eliza did not struggle. For some obscure reason she felt relaxed and at ease in his embrace, her lips receptive, slightly parted. When he finally released her, she could only stare at him in bewilderment.

‘Forgive me. I was tempted. You provoked me too far.’

‘Then I must ask you to forgive me. It was quite unintentional, I assure you. May I leave now? You have my word that I shall not betray you. Nor shall I fall into the arms of a scoundrel. I am truly to work for a lady of quality.’

‘You are either a saint or have the patience of one,’ Daniel exclaimed ruefully. ‘I have no excuse for my behaviour—in holding up your carriage or the kiss.’

‘Papa taught me to see good in everyone and every situation.’

Eliza turned away, a smile on her soft mouth. It was as well that he could not read her mind. If he had guessed at her thoughts, which were really extremely shocking, he would know that she had wanted the kisses to continue.

As she walked back to the carriage, where the coachman was anxiously awaiting her, Eliza’s thoughts were churning with unanswered questions. Mr Seaton had not told her from whom he had won the ring that was like hers, but she could not help wondering if it were the Marquis of Cheadle. Was the hold-up all a foolish prank or was there some hidden secret—a secret that might concern her?

‘Are you all right, Miss Bancroft?’

‘What? Oh, yes, perfectly,’ Eliza said. ‘It was just a mistake, sir. The highwayman was playing a prank for a bet. He held up the wrong carriage. Shall we go on now?’

The coachman gave her an odd look, but said no more, offering his hand to assist her into the carriage.

Eliza sat back against the squabs. She touched her fingers to her mouth and smiled. Ever since the first time she had seen Mr Daniel Seaton she had wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. Now she knew and it was even nicer than she had imagined.

Was it wicked of her to have enjoyed his kiss? Eliza knew that she was unlikely to marry unless she settled for someone like the curate. Mr Stanley was a good man, she supposed, but she had never dreamed of being kissed by him, whereas Mr Seaton’s face had come unbidden to her mind both when sleeping and when she was awake. It was foolish to think of him—he was the earl’s nephew and would have only one purpose for a girl of Eliza’s upbringing. For a moment she thought that the sacrifice of name and reputation might be worthwhile for the happiness that an illicit love affair might bring. Then she recalled that she herself was most likely a lovechild. Papa and Mama would be horrified if they knew what was in her mind.

‘I am sorry,’ she whispered, though she was quite alone in the carriage. ‘I promise I shall do nothing to shame you.’

You could never do that, Eliza.

Tears stung her eyes as she imagined her mother’s voice and her gentle smile. She missed her parents and her friends and for a moment she felt terribly alone. It was a huge step to travel such a long way to live with a stranger. Supposing Lady Sarah did not like her? The offer was only provisional and at the end of that period of probation, she might be forced to look for another position.

Chapter Three

The house in the Crescent was imposing and grand. It was very different to the eyes of a country girl who until recently had only visited Norwich once in her life.

Eliza’s heart beat wildly as the footman opened the front door to her. His livery was extremely smart and his manner seemed condescending as he beckoned her inside. The black-and-white tiled floor in the hall gleamed and the scent of lavender polish met her as she was shown up the stairs to the first-floor reception rooms.

‘Her ladyship is expecting you, Miss Bancroft.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, her throat dry as she followed the footman along the landing to a pair of imposing doors. They were painted white and scrolled with gold swags and bows, the handles of gleaming brass. A maid must have polished them that very morning.

‘Miss Bancroft, your ladyship.’

The footman stood back to allow Eliza to enter, closing the door behind her. Eliza saw a woman seated in an elbow chair close to the window. She had obviously been reading, but she placed her book on the wine table close to hand, letting her enquiring gaze rest on Eliza. She had a gentle face and her smile of welcome lit her eyes.

‘Please come to me, Miss Bancroft,’ she said, standing up and offering her hand. ‘I have been looking forward to meeting you.’

‘Thank you. I, too, have anticipated this meeting with pleasure, my lady.’ Eliza moved forwards. She extended her hand and the lady held it for a moment and then sat down. ‘I am grateful for the chance to be of service to you, my lady.’

‘Until recently I have been living in the country,’ Lady Sarah said. ‘Now that I am in Bath I find I need a companion, a young lady who will exchange books at the library, fetch things I need and accompany me to the Pump Room and various functions. I have maids to care for my clothes and the house. I really need a friend to sit and talk with me, perhaps read to me now and then when I have a headache—nothing too strenuous, Eliza. I hope I may call you Eliza?’

‘Yes, of course, my lady.’

‘Ma’am or Sarah will do. I hope we shall become firm friends in time, Eliza. It will be a pleasure for me to have the company of a young lady.’ Lady Sarah smiled. ‘Please, bring a chair and sit near me, my dear. I shall ring for refreshments. I should like to hear more about you and your mama—if it is not too painful for you?’

‘No, ma’am, I am able to talk of Mama without crying now. I looked after her in the last few months of her illness. My papa died two and a half years ago. It was quite sudden and we had to leave the rectory where he was the incumbent. Mama never quite got over losing him so suddenly. She became delicate and was confined to bed for some months.’

‘How sad for her and for you. I am sorry for your loss, my dear. I hope you will not mind going into company so soon? I lead quite a busy social life here.’

‘Mama told me I was not to wear black for her,’ Eliza said and glanced down at her dove-grey gown. ‘I have some other plain gowns in colours, ma’am, but very little suitable for evenings. We did not entertain.’

‘Oh, I quite expected to provide some clothes for you,’ Lady Sarah said immediately. ‘I shall summon my dressmaker in the morning and we shall commission some outfits for you, Eliza. What you have on is perfectly suitable for wearing to the Pump Room, and I may have something you can adapt for evenings until your new clothes are ready.’

‘I am good with my needle. If you had some cast-offs, I could alter them for my use rather than purchasing all new…’

‘I will find one or two that may do for the moment, but you shall certainly have new gowns. Please do not feel embarrassed, Eliza. It is perfectly in order and quite usual.’

‘Oh… in that case I am grateful, my… ma’am,’ Eliza said. ‘I had not expected so much kindness.’

‘You may find me a hard taskmaster,’ Lady Sarah replied and laughed softly. ‘I am tiresomely forgetful, my dear, and may send you on errands a dozen times a day.’

‘I shall be only too pleased to fetch whatever it is you wish.’

A maid entered at that moment, bringing a large silver tray set with an exquisite tea and coffee service of elegant silver with bone handles, and delicate porcelain tea bowls. There was also a plate of tiny biscuits and almond comfits.

‘Will you pour for us both please, Eliza? I take my tea with a drop of milk and one lump of sugar.’

Eliza poured the tea into the delicate bowl, added a little milk and used the tongs to select a small lump of sugar, which she added to the bowl. She handed it to Lady Sarah, who thanked her, stirred it once, sipped and nodded her approval before setting it on the wine table at her side.

‘Would you like a comfit, ma’am?’

‘No thank you, but please try one, Eliza. Cook made them especially in case you arrived.’

Eliza tasted one of the comfits, as she had been bidden, and expressed pleasure as she ate the delicious treat. She poured a cup of tea for herself and resumed her seat.

‘What other duties are required, ma’am? So far it seems that I am to be treated as a guest rather than an employee. I should like to be of use to you in whatever way I may.’

‘I really require only companionship,’ Lady Sarah assured her. ‘You will be as… a cousin or a younger sister to me, Eliza. I hope you will accept me as a friend, because that will be more comfortable for us both. There cannot be more than two-and-twenty years between us. My son is but seven and twenty and I married when I was sixteen. My son was born ten months later.’

‘You hardly look more than nine and thirty, ma’am.’

Lady Sarah laughed and looked pleased, though she denied it. ‘I feel so much older some days. My life has been very quiet until recently. While my husband lived I resided at home in the country, often alone. To have the company of a young lady of your age is a delight for me.’

Eliza hardly knew what to say. She had not considered that she would be so fortunate and found it difficult to realise that she was going to live in such favoured circumstances.

‘Now, if you have finished your tea, I shall ring for Millicent Browne. She is my housekeeper here and she will take you up to your room. Please take your time to refresh yourself after the journey and then come down to me. We have a dinner engagement this evening, but this afternoon is free for us to talk and get to know each other. Dinner this evening is just an informal affair with friends, but I shall send you a gown you may like to wear.’

Eliza thanked her again. A woman came in answer to Lady Sarah’s summons. She was dressed in a plain black gown with a neat lace collar and a gold brooch fastened at the throat. Her bright eyes looked at Eliza curiously, but her manner was welcoming as she led her along the landing and up a short flight of stairs.

‘Her ladyship put you in one of the family rooms, miss. She wanted you close to her apartments so that you could pop in and out when she is resting, as she does some afternoons.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Browne,’ Eliza said. ‘I hope that I shall be of some use and not cause more work for you. I am quite happy to make my bed and keep my room tidy.’

‘Well, that is kind of you, miss. Not all guests are so thoughtful, I can tell you, but it will not be necessary. Her ladyship told us you were to be treated as family, and that’s how it will be.’

‘I must do something to earn my keep.’

‘Your nice manners and cheerful smile will cheer her ladyship and that is all that’s needed, miss.’

Mrs Browne stopped outside a room and opened the door, ushering her inside. The room was very pretty, furnished with satinwood pieces that struck Eliza as being exquisitely made, and the décor was of pink and cream with a touch of crimson here and there.

‘What a beautiful room,’ she exclaimed. ‘I have never had such pretty things. Thank you for giving me such a lovely bedchamber—and roses on the dressing chest. How very kind.’

‘Her ladyship wanted things nice, miss. We are all fond of her and we shall be obliged to you if you can cheer her up—she’s not had a good life.’

‘Oh…’ Eliza wondered what was meant, but was too polite to enquire. It was not for her to gossip about her employer the moment she arrived. ‘I am sorry to hear that. I shall certainly do my best to please.’

Left to herself, Eliza took off her bonnet and pelisse, depositing them on a chair. She ran her fingers over the surface of the beautiful dressing chest and the matching writing table and chair, bending to sniff the roses, which gave off a wonderful perfume. She could not quite believe her good fortune.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she thought about her extraordinary day yesterday. First the hold-up that was not truly a hold-up at all since the highwayman had turned out to be a man she had previously met and was clearly not very skilled at his work. A little smile touched her mouth as she remembered his kiss and her quite inappropriate feelings.

How foolish she was to feel such a strong attraction to a man who would never mean anything to her. She had been very fortunate in securing such a comfortable position and must do nothing to jeopardise her good fortune. If she saw Mr Seaton again, she would be sure to keep her distance, but it was unlikely that he would come to Bath.

And even more unlikely that he would be interested in a mere companion. A man as well connected as Daniel would surely have no trouble attracting a suitable wife. Yet his smile, his concern for her when he knocked her down, the feeling she had when he kissed her, would linger in her mind.

Daniel frowned at himself in the mirror. It would appear that he had made a fool of himself by holding up Cheadle’s carriage. Eliza had travelled alone and was adamant that she was going to be the companion of a lady in Bath. He had felt foolish and angry, and that kiss had been unwise because he had not been able to get her out of his mind since.

An interview with his bank in Bath had revealed that his finances were, if anything, worse than he had imagined. Even if he were prepared to live like a miser and work all the hours of the day and night, he was not sure that he could hang on to the estate. His mind should be focused on his own problems—and his cousin’s death. He could not afford to be thinking of a girl with eyes that made him want to kiss her senseless.

He had come to Bath to hear the worst, but also in search of Cheadle, whom he’d learned was due to stay here. It would be his chance to bargain for the ring and see if he could get anything of worth out of him—and he did not mean money, though the ten thousand his father had lost to the marquis was the cause of his immediate problems.

He had not come to Bath to discover if Miss Eliza Bancroft had been telling him the truth. If they were to meet that would be by the way and of no importance. It would be quite ridiculous if he were to allow himself to be distracted by that impish smile of hers. Quite ridiculous and impossible.

If he were sensible, he would try to find an heiress to marry him, as his uncle had suggested. The notion did not sit well with him, but short of taking up a life on the road he could think of nothing else that would produce enough money to pay those damned mortgages.

Susanne Roberts had been giving him suggestive looks in town when he visited earlier in the Season. He had stayed well clear because he could not imagine himself being tied to such a silly girl. However, beggars could not be choosers. He might bring himself to the point of asking if he could put the memory of Eliza Bancroft’s tantalising mouth from his head.

He had an invitation to dine with the Roberts family in Bath that evening—and it would do no harm to keep the appointment.

‘That lilac silk becomes you well,’ Lady Sarah said as Eliza twirled for her, holding the silk draped across her body. ‘Yes, I like it—and the grey is perfect for small evening affairs. However, you will need a ballgown or perhaps two—and I think you should have white. You may trim them with delicate touches of black lace if you wish, but I think white is perfectly acceptable—do you not agree, Madame Millaise?’

The seamstress nodded her approval. ‘I do not think anyone would take exception to it, milady,’ she said, her accent markedly French despite her excellent grasp of the English language. ‘A discreet touch of black is all that is needed to make it perfectly respectable, non?’ She looked at Eliza, as if asking a question.

Eliza hesitated, waiting for her employer to speak.

‘Yes, that is my opinion. What do you think, Eliza, my dear?’

‘I will be advised by you and madame,’ Eliza said, feeling anxious as she looked at the growing pile of silks her employer seemed to feel she needed. ‘Mama particularly told me she did not wish me to wear mourning for more than a few days, but I like the grey and lilac. I should choose those shades at any time. I had not thought of white, but I am sure it will be perfect.’

‘Yes, I believe it will. You are an attractive girl, Eliza, and will pay for dressing.’

Eliza blushed. She had never thought of herself as particularly attractive, though Betty always said it, but wearing good clothes certainly made her feel much more stylish. She had already adapted two evening gowns that her employer had given her from her own wardrobe, one a simple lilac silk, which had had long sleeves. Eliza had removed the long sleeves and made them shorter, trimming them with some heavy cream lace. She had added more lace to the bodice, and, worn with the gold pin that had been her mother’s, the alteration had completely transformed the gown so that even Lady Sarah had not recognised it. The other was grey silk and had very elegant lines. Eliza had merely adjusted the waist and hemline, feeling that she could not improve on its design.

‘Will mademoiselle be advised by me as to the style the gowns should be?’ the Frenchwoman asked.

‘Yes, thank you,’ Eliza replied. ‘I am not perfectly sure of the latest fashion—or what would be appropriate for a companion to wear.’

‘You need not worry about that side of it,’ her employer said. ‘I wish you to feel comfortable in what you choose, Eliza, and I am sure madame knows exactly what will become a girl of your age.’ She turned to the seamstress. ‘That is enough for one day. When can you have the first ballgown ready?’

‘By Friday lunchtime, milady.’

‘Very well. Eliza can manage with what she has until then. We shall attend the assembly that night, but until then we have only a dinner with friends and a trip to the theatre. You may wear the grey to dinner at the home of Lady Roberts, Eliza, and the lilac to the theatre. Your own walking gown will be sufficient until madame has made your new ones.’

Eliza thanked her. Her first visit to the Pump Room and the library had shown her that her clothes were by no means fashionable enough for Bath, at least if she were here on a visit for pleasure, though she thought them adequate for a companion. However, Lady Sarah had made it clear that she wanted her companion dressed suitably when they were in company and, although overwhelmed by what seemed excessive generosity, she accepted the new gowns as necessary—a part of her employment.

That did not stop her being excited by the prospect of wearing such lovely clothes. Lady Sarah’s cast-offs were far finer than anything she had ever possessed and she knew that both were almost unworn, though possibly purchased when her employer was younger.

She thanked the seamstress for her help, assisted the young girl who carried out the materials and walked to the door with them both. When she returned to the sitting room, Lady Sarah was sipping a glass of restorative wine.

‘Come and sit down, Eliza. You must be quite exhausted after that,’ she said. ‘I always feel drained after fittings for new gowns.’

‘It was a new experience for me,’ Eliza replied with a smile. ‘I always made my own gowns with Mama’s help. She was an excellent seamstress.’

‘With a little training you could be a fashionable seamstress,’ Lady Sarah said. ‘Your own gowns are quite acceptable for the country, my dear, but you need a little town bronze.’

Sarah wondered why a companion should need to look fashionable but she did not question her employer. She considered herself fortunate to be treated so well.

‘Perhaps you will go to the library for me this afternoon, my dear. I do not like the book I started last evening. It was well recommended, but The Mysteries of Udolpho is not to my taste. I should prefer something more sensible, I think.’

‘Have you read the story of Tristan and Iseult?’ Eliza asked. ‘I have just finished reading it and enjoyed it, but I shall see what else I can find that you might like.’

‘Lady Roberts recommended the story I asked you to bring yesterday, Eliza, but I think it foolish. I will try the story you recommended, but I think I should like poetry or perhaps something of Miss Austen’s—though I believe I have read most of them.’

‘I shall see what I can find. In the meantime I will fetch the book I brought with me.’

Eliza went upstairs to put on her bonnet and pelisse. Thus far she was finding her duties light. Indeed, it was like staying with an aunt rather than working for an employer and she felt very spoiled to be leading such an indulgent life. Eliza had always helped her mother in the kitchen and with parish work when her father was the rector, and she found it strange to be so idle.

It took but a moment to find the book and to put on her pelisse. She went back down to the parlour and took her leave of Lady Sarah, setting out for the lending library. The afternoon was pleasantly warm and the walk would be welcome after a morning spent choosing silks and trimmings for her new gowns.

Eliza reached the library without seeing anyone she knew. She had met only a handful of Lady Sarah’s friends so far and was not acquainted with any other companions, so did not linger to gossip with anyone. Her search for books that her employer might find rewarding took a little longer, but she came away with three she thought interesting. It was as she came out of the library that a man walking backwards as he said goodbye to a friend almost trod on her toes. She gave a squeak of alarm and dropped her books. He turned instantly, an apology on his lips. The colour came and went in his face as he saw her. Her heart raced, for it was the man she had both longed and yet feared to see again.

‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘Did I hurt you?’

‘No, I stepped back at once.’

He bent to pick up the books, looking at her contritely. ‘I must seem a clumsy fool to you, Miss Bancroft. I am so very sorry for causing you to drop these.’

‘It was a mere accident, Mr Seaton,’ Eliza replied, a slight heat in her own cheeks as she accepted the books and their hands touched. Her stomach fluttered with some disturbing emotion she did not wish to recognise. This was so foolish. To like him so much when she knew it could only lead to distress! ‘I assure you I am unhurt.’

‘No thanks to me,’ he said ruefully. ‘May I help to carry these for you? Perhaps I could buy you tea and cake to make up for nearly knocking you over?’

‘I assure you there is no need to do either,’ Eliza replied. She longed to say yes, to spend the next hour talking with him over some tea and cake, but her time was not her own. She must remember the vast chasm between them. He was related to an earl and she was a lovechild with a dubious background and no prospects ‘I must take these back to my employer. She is waiting for me.’

‘Then I suppose I should let you go,’ he said, but turned and walked by her side. ‘How are you enjoying your stay in Bath? Is your employer an old dragon?’

‘Lady Sarah is neither old nor a dragon. She has been extremely kind to me. I am fortunate to have found such employment. Indeed, there is little for me to do except enjoy myself.’

‘That is fortunate.’ His eyes were intensely blue and seemed thoughtful as he met her gaze. ‘I imagine there are not many companions in that position.’

‘Perhaps not,’ Eliza replied. ‘I did not expect to meet you here, sir. Have you given up your former employment?’ Her eyes sparkled as she teased, for she knew that his one and only attempt at highway robbery had been a mistaken desire to save her from a fate worse than death.

‘I rather think it gave me up.’ Daniel laughed huskily. ‘Had my unfortunate encounter been with any other young lady of my acquaintance, I think I should even now find myself behind bars.’

‘That would be harsh indeed. You gave the coachman a little fright and that was bad of you, but you caused me no harm. Indeed, I have smiled to myself more than once over the incident.’

‘You find me amusing, Miss Bancroft?’

‘I found your attempt at highway robbery amusing.’ She saw him frown. ‘Does that offend you?’

‘Yes and no,’ he replied honestly. ‘I think it was my own fault, but no man enjoys being thought a fool.’ She sensed he had withdrawn slightly and regretted her careless remark.

‘I did not think you a fool, sir. I see I have offended you. Forgive me. I must get back, for Lady Sarah will wonder what keeps me.’

He tipped his hat to her again, stopped walking and allowed her to go on alone. Eliza did not glance back, though she sensed that he was watching her walk away. She was sorry if she had offended him, but that was better than allowing him to imagine she was ripe for dalliance. He had kissed her once without invitation. It must not happen again. A young woman in her circumstances ought not to be seen encouraging the attentions of a man who was related to an earl.

Daniel watched her walk the length of the street. She had a trim figure and was in many ways unusual, being possessed, he suspected, of a strong sense of humour. It piqued his pride a little to know that she found him amusing. Yet he could hardly blame her. Most women would have thought him a clodhopping fool for nearly knocking her down not once but twice, and then there was the ridiculous hold-up. She was remarkably patient and tolerant, and he discovered that he found her enchanting. There were few enough young women with her wit and sensible manner and he could not suppress a sigh. If she were only an heiress… He laughed and shook his head. Such a prize would not be long on the shelf. Had she had money as well as her other attributes she would have been spoken for long ago.

Daniel’s thoughts turned to the evening ahead. He had been invited to Lord and Lady Robert’s house to dine. As yet he had said nothing to the gentleman about his uncomfortable circumstances. He was reluctant to do so for it was bound to leak out, unless they came to an understanding. Lord Roberts would naturally protect the reputation of his daughter’s fiancé if they came to an arrangement, but would he be prepared to come to Daniel’s rescue?

It was a situation Daniel wished he could avoid, but he knew that the best solution was to find a wealthy bride. He would have to make up his mind and put all thoughts of Miss Bancroft from his mind.

Eliza dressed with care that evening. Lady Sarah had sent her a simple string of seed pearls to wear with the gown. She understood that they were a loan from a generous employer who wished her companion to look well and accepted them with pleasure.

Lady Sarah nodded her approval when she went to her room, to ask if there was anything she needed.

‘You look charming, my dear. That gown suits you far better than it ever did me.’

‘You have such good taste,’ Eliza replied. ‘Your clothes always look elegant without being too fussy.’

‘I never did like too many frills and ribbons—though they look well on younger girls. Lady Roberts has a very nice daughter, Eliza. I see no reason why you two should not be friends. It will be good for you to have some acquaintances in Bath.’

‘Yes, it will be pleasant when I know more people,’ Eliza agreed, though she was not certain that the daughter of a titled lady would necessarily wish to know Lady Sarah’s companion.

‘Come, my dear. The horses are standing. Coachman never likes his horses kept standing. We must leave.’

Eliza helped her to gather her shawl, fan and reticule, and then they went down to the carriage. Lady Sarah whiled away the journey by looking out of the window and pointing out places of interest or people they passed that she happened to know, but the journey only took a few minutes and could easily have been walked.

The footman came to open the door and let down the steps, helping first Lady Sarah and then Eliza to descend. They went into the hall and then up the stairs, where their hostess was waiting to greet them. Lady Roberts was a tall thin woman with a hooked nose, which her daughter had unfortunately inherited, though she was elegantly dressed. They both greeted Lady Sarah with affection and Eliza politely. Almost immediately, another guest was announced and Eliza noticed that Susanne’s face lit with pleasure, making her look almost pretty. Turning her head to look at the newcomer, Eliza felt a shock of recognition. It seemed that she was destined to meet Mr Seaton yet again.

‘Lord Seaton,’ her hostess gushed. ‘How delightful to see you this evening. We were so pleased you could come—were we not, Susanne?’

Eliza felt her cheeks flush. He had not told her that he was Lord Seaton and she felt foolish for having misused his name several times.

‘Yes, Mama,’ Susanne replied and giggled shyly. It was clear that she believed he had come for the purpose of seeing her and enjoyed the prospect of being courted.

‘I was happy to be invited, ma’am.’ His gaze moved to Lady Sarah and then Eliza. His expression did not change, though Eliza noticed a little pulse flicking at his temple.

‘Have you met my good friend Lady Sarah Manners and her companion Miss Eliza Bancroft?’

‘I do not think I have had the honour of meeting Lady Sarah,’ Daniel replied. ‘However, I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Bancroft at my uncle’s estate a few weeks ago. I trust you are well, Miss Bancroft?’

‘Yes, thank you, my lord.’

‘Ah, yes, the dear earl.’ Lady Roberts moved smoothly on, obviously not impressed that he should acknowledge acquaintance with a mere companion. ‘I believe he was not well a few months back.’

‘My uncle still mourns the loss of his son,’ Daniel replied with a frown. ‘I think his health is well enough otherwise.’

‘Yes, such a sad occurrence.’ Lady Roberts looked at her daughter pointedly. ‘You are released, Susanne. Take our guests into the drawing room. I have only one more guest to greet and then I shall join you.’

Susanne looked expectantly at Lord Seaton. He offered his arm and they moved forwards into the large drawing room, where Lord Roberts was entertaining three other guests and a footman was standing with a tray of champagne. Eliza followed with Lady Sarah. She was offered a glass of champagne by the footman, which she accepted, but made no attempt to drink. Lady Sarah led the way to a rather beautiful blonde lady dressed in grey silk, smiling and greeting her with pleasure.

‘Julia Henderson, I had no idea you would be here this evening. I am delighted to meet you again.’

‘Sarah dearest. We arrived in Bath only yesterday. How wonderful to find you here.’ The two ladies embraced and then Julia turned enquiring eyes on Eliza. ‘And this is…?’

‘My companion, Miss Eliza Bancroft,’ Lady Sarah said.

‘Your companion? For a moment I thought… How nice to meet you, Miss Bancroft,’ Julia Henderson said and extended her hand. ‘How long have you been with my dear friend Sarah?’

‘Just a few days, ma’am,’ Eliza said, seeing the warmth and affection for Lady Sarah in her eyes. ‘But they have been extremely pleasant ones.’

‘Well, I shall be calling on you both very soon and I shall look forward to a long chat. I want to hear all about you, Eliza—and you must call me Julia. I absolutely insist.’

‘Oh…’ Eliza blushed. ‘That is very kind of you, ma… Julia.’

‘You will soon get used to it,’ Julia said and laughed. ‘Now, you must meet my daughter Kate—Kate, this is Eliza. You two must absolutely be friends, because you are going to see a lot of one another. I shall want to spend time with Sarah and you two should be prepared to go off on your own somewhere.’

‘Mama!’ Kate was a younger image of her mother, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement as she came to Eliza. ‘You must forgive her, Miss Bancroft. She may command me, but not you, though I hope we shall be friends and you may call me Kate if you wish.’

‘Only if you call me Eliza.’ Eliza smiled because she liked both the mother and daughter. ‘I, too, hope we shall be friends. As yet I have very few acquaintances in Bath.’

‘I have loads of them,’ Kate said frankly. ‘However, only one or two I would actually call friends. I should like to get to know you—and that is not because Mama insists either.’ She threw a fond but exasperated look at her mother, who was talking animatedly with Lady Sarah. ‘Dear Mama is managing, but she means well.’

‘I am certain she does,’ Eliza agreed, thinking that she was fortunate to have met a girl she could truly think of as a friend.

Most of the other young ladies she met exchanged pleasantries but did not seem interested enough to become her friend.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the invitation to move into the dining room was given. After some shuffling and searching, everyone sat down and Eliza found herself seated between an elderly gentleman, who proved hard of hearing and Lord Roberts. Her host saw her seated with solicitous care and then proceeded to ignore her as he talked exclusively to the lady on his right.

Obviously, a companion was not deemed worthy of a meaningful conversation. Eliza contented herself by looking about her. She caught snatches of other people’s conversation and smiled as she watched Miss Susanne Roberts making up to Lord Seaton. Susanne simpered, giggled and fluttered her lashes so often that Eliza would have asked if she had something in her eye had she been close enough.

Now and then the deaf gentleman muttered something. Eliza nodded or asked if she could pass him a dish or the condiment set. She risked a few glances at Lord Seaton and discovered that he was looking at her and frowning. Once she thought he would address her across the table, but his companion claimed his attention and the moment passed.

It might have been a long and tedious meal, but the food was actually delicious and Eliza enjoyed watching the company. She saw Kate flirting in an unexceptional way with an older gentleman, and Lady Sarah was clearly enjoying talking with friends.

Eventually, Lady Roberts announced the move to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to their port and cigars. Kate immediately gravitated to her side.

‘Poor you,’ she exclaimed as she linked arms. ‘Mr Huddlestone is as deaf as a post and Lord Roberts was awfully rude. I do not think he addressed more than three words to you all evening.’

‘I did not remark it,’ Eliza assured her. ‘I dare say a dowager duchess is more important and entertaining than a companion.’

‘How calm you are and kind.’ Kate laughed. ‘In your position I should have been inclined to talk across the table, but Mama says it is rude to interrupt the conversation of others.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Besides, Miss Roberts was monopolising the only handsome man in the room—even if Lord Seaton was more interested in looking at you.’

‘No, I am certain he was not,’ Eliza denied immediately. ‘He seemed quite content with his companion.’

‘She threw herself at him in town, but he ignored her. Mama warned me that Seaton may be in financial difficulty, for his father was ill for a while before he died and may have neglected the estate. There was a rumour of it, but I do not know the whole. He may be looking to marry a fortune, though I shall think him a fool if he settles for a peagoose like Susanne.’

‘That is a little unkind,’ Eliza reproved, but could not resist a smile. Kate was certainly outspoken, but she could not help liking her.

Lord Seaton was not a fool, but it was possible that he needed to marry money. Gentleman often did, for the upkeep of a country estate was expensive. She imagined that Lord Roberts was wealthy and would see his daughter well endowed. However, Eliza had no time to ponder the subject for she was summoned by Lady Roberts to help serve the tea.

When she brought Lady Sarah her cup, her employer frowned. ‘This is unfair on you, Eliza, my love. You are here to enjoy yourself.’

‘I am enjoying myself very much, ma’am. Serving tea is no hardship for me.’

‘It is the manner…’ Lady Sarah shook her head. She clearly did not approve of the way Eliza had been commandeered by their hostess, but would not make a fuss in public.

Once tea was served, Kate was called to the pianoforte and she asked Eliza to accompany her.

‘Do you know this one?’ she asked, playing a few bars of a popular ballad. She smiled when Eliza inclined her head. ‘Sing it with me?’

Eliza stood at her shoulder and joined in the second verse. She had a sweet though untrained voice and their voices blended into a pleasant harmony. They had finished the ballad and were singing the words of ‘Green-sleeves’ when the gentleman returned, and were warmly applauded as they brought the old song to an end.

‘Well done, ladies. That was a perfect duet,’ Daniel Seaton told them, strolling towards the pianoforte. ‘May I join you in a verse or two?’

‘Of course,’ Kate agreed. ‘What shall we sing?’

‘I have been practising Mr Beethoven’s piano sonata,’ Susanne said, coming up to them. She looked pointedly at Eliza. ‘Perhaps you should return to Lady Sarah, Miss Bancroft. I believe she needs you.’

‘Yes, certainly. Everyone has heard quite enough of me for one evening.’ Eliza retired gracefully to sit by her employer’s side.

She listened appreciatively to the music. Susanne played with more accomplishment than Kate and, when they sang a popular ditty, their voices blended well with Lord Seaton’s. She applauded their performance as warmly as anyone.

‘I believe we should leave now,’ Lady Sarah said when the entertainment finished and the company began to talk amongst themselves. ‘I am feeling a little tired.’

‘Allow me to escort you to your carriage, ma’am,’ Daniel offered, startling Eliza who had not been aware that he was standing so close.

‘So kind,’ Lady Sarah said and took his arm. ‘It was a pleasant evening, but it is late for me. I knew your uncle once, sir. You must call and take a dish of tea with us one afternoon.’

‘I should be delighted,’ Daniel said, inclining his head.

Eliza gathered up all their bits and pieces. She followed behind, noticing with approval Lord Seaton’s consideration for her employer. He walked her to her waiting carriage, helped her inside, seeing her settled comfortably before turning to Eliza. His blue eyes were thoughtful as he offered his hand to help her ascend the steps.

‘I hope your evening was not too tedious, Miss Bancroft?’

‘Not in the least, sir. I enjoyed your singing immensely.’

‘I enjoyed your rendition of “Greensleeves.”’

‘And Miss Roberts played with remarkable proficiency.’

‘She is undoubtedly an accomplished young lady.’

‘Yes, I am certain she is.’

What was the message in his eyes? Eliza was not certain; it might be merely imagination, but he seemed to say that he cared nothing for Miss Roberts and very much for her. No, she was letting her feelings run away with her.

It seemed to Eliza that Lord Seaton held her hand for a little longer than necessary. Perhaps only seconds, but enough to make her heart flutter. Her body began to heat and very peculiar sensations made the nape of her neck tingle. She removed her hand from his grasp.

He was too dangerous to allow even the smallest flirtation.

‘Thank you, sir. I can manage now. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight, ladies.’ He stepped back as the groom closed the carriage door. ‘I shall call one afternoon, Lady Sarah.’

Sitting back against the squabs, Eliza refused to feel pleased by his promise. It would be extremely foolish to allow herself to like Lord Seaton too much. Yet she did, she did… already her thoughts dwelled on him far more than was sensible or right.

Chapter Four

Daniel doused his head with cold water and groaned. Whatever had possessed him to drink so much wine after he returned to his lodgings the previous evening? He shook the water from his hair and sank back into the rapidly cooling bath his valet had prepared for him. Last evening’s dinner party had been a total failure as far as he was concerned. Not only had he been bored by Miss Roberts, finding her shallow and foolish, he had left without speaking to her father.

‘Damned idiot!’ he muttered as he rose from the water and towelled himself down, the droplets glistening on skin that was slightly golden in tone.

Why the hell had his father lost so much money to Cheadle? It was the cause of all this bother, the reason he had no choice but to offer for a girl he did not truly admire. He must either marry to advantage or enter the army and sell his estate to salvage what little he could.

Surely there must be another alternative?

The thoughts had been going round and round in his head since waking. He had really believed he could go through with the marriage to Miss Roberts until… he had seen her looking at him with those thoughtful eyes.

Miss Eliza Bancroft.

Damn it all, why should the girl affect him like this? She wasn’t beautiful by the standards of the day. Perhaps if they had met first in society he would have passed on without a second glance.

Liar!

Daniel groaned as he accepted that Miss Eliza Bancroft had been the reason for his failure to address Miss Roberts. He was intrigued by her manner of plain speaking. She found him amusing, did she? Her careless remark had pricked his vanity. He was accustomed to having young women hang on his every word. Indeed, he might have married long ago if beauty or money had been all he required in a wife.

The woman had bewitched him! What an idiot he was, mooning over a girl’s smile like a green youth.

Daniel’s mirth vanished as swiftly as it had come. His situation was serious. He had to find some way of paying those damned mortgages.

Eliza looked out of the front window as she heard voices below and was in time to see that Lady Julia and Kate had arrived. They were all to visit the Pump Room together that morning. Picking up the reticule she had been asked to fetch for Lady Sarah, she went downstairs in time to witness their friends being admitted.

‘Eliza,’ Kate said, ‘isn’t it a glorious day? I have asked Mama if we may leave her and Lady Sarah for a while once they are settled with their friends. It is far too pleasant to be stuck indoors. Do you not agree?’

‘It would be pleasant to walk if Lady Sarah does not need me.’

A walk was exactly what she needed after a night of too much thinking. Despite all her good intentions, Eliza had not been able to dismiss thoughts of Daniel Seaton. She wished she did not know his secret for it seemed to draw her closer to him. Had they met in company for the first time the previous evening, she would not have felt so troubled.

How could he think of marrying such a foolish girl as Miss Roberts? She was far beneath him in every way.

Immediately, Eliza was ashamed of the thought. Miss Roberts was a perfectly pleasant girl, just a little foolish to set her cap at him in public the way she had.

Good gracious! Was she feeling jealous?

Eliza scorned the wayward notion. She had no business thinking of Lord Seaton at all.

Kate’s friendly chatter was just what was needed to banish her foolish thoughts. Eliza gave her new friend all her attention as the four ladies were driven to the Pump Room in an open landau.

Lady Sarah seemed happy to be reunited with an old friend, and once the two older ladies were settled in the Pump Room with a glass of the restorative water, Kate persuaded Eliza they should leave.

‘Certainly you must go with Kate,’ Lady Sarah added her voice to the young lady’s. ‘I shall be perfectly comfortable here—and we are all to take luncheon together at Lady Julia’s house. Do not be late for that, girls.’

‘No, of course not,’ the girls chorused.

Kate slipped her arm through Eliza’s and they left the Pump Room, heading for the fashionable shops that abounded in the town.

‘I need a new fan for best,’ Kate told her as they emerged into the warm sunshine. She was dressed in a pretty green walking gown with a bonnet of chip straw trimmed with matching ribbons and white shoes and gloves. ‘My favourite snapped in half last time I used it. The struts are so fragile, are they not?’

‘I have one that my mother gave me,’ Eliza replied. ‘I have not…’

She meant to say that she had hardly used it but, seeing the gentleman walking towards them, her heart caught. He was so extremely handsome in his coat of blue with dove grey breeches and boots that shone like gloss.

‘Miss Henderson… Miss Bancroft…’ Daniel raised his hat to them. ‘A beautiful morning, is it not?’

‘Lord Seaton,’ Kate said and gave him a flirtatious look. ‘Are you on your way to the Pump Room? I would not have thought you needed to take the waters.’

‘Indeed, no, I should hope not,’ he replied and grinned, for her manner was mischievous. ‘Indeed, I have heard the taste is so bad that I doubt the health-giving properties they are said to possess. I suppose you are headed for the shops?’

‘There is nothing I enjoy more,’ Kate replied. ‘Unless it is dancing. Do you attend the assembly this evening, sir?

‘I am not sure…’ His eyes rested on Eliza. ‘Do you attend, Miss Bancroft?’

Eliza had deliberately remained silent, but now she was forced to answer.

‘I believe it is Lady Sarah’s intention,’ Eliza said, hoping that she did not sound breathless. Her heart was behaving most oddly. ‘It will be my first proper ball, though I was sometimes invited to your uncle’s Christmas party, sir. I danced there, of course. Mama taught me—’ She broke off with a flush for she had said too much—and she did sound breathless.

‘Then I must certainly attend,’ he responded gallantly, his words making her feel odd all over. ‘You will promise to save at least one dance for me, Miss Bancroft—and I shall also claim one from you, Miss Henderson.’

‘I shall be sure to enter your name, sir—and so will Eliza,’ Kate sparkled up at him. ‘Now you must leave us for shopping is important business, my lord.’

‘I am not sure that I ought to dance.’ Eliza remembered belatedly that she was a companion. ‘I do not know if Lady Sarah will permit it.’

‘Of course she will expect you to dance.’ Kate retorted. ‘Lord Seaton, support me in this please. Eliza must dance, must she not?’

‘I am persuaded that Lady Sarah will expect it,’ Daniel replied and his eyes were bright with amusement. ‘I must not delay you longer. I shall see you both this evening, ladies.’

He tipped his hat once more and walked on by. Kate hugged Eliza’s arm.

‘Was that not clever of me? He likes you very much. I dare swear he had no intention of attending this evening until you told him it was your first ball.’

‘Oh, no…’ Eliza was genuinely horrified. ‘Please do not suggest such a thing. It would be most inappropriate. Lady Sarah has been kindness itself, but I am her companion. Lord Seaton really should not pay me any attention. Especially if—’ she broke off, feeling flustered. ‘He should not.’

‘You are distressed,’ Kate said in concern. ‘I was merely teasing you. I would not encourage you to think of him. Lord Seaton is not exactly a rake, but he is known for his flirts. They say the last was a beautiful opera dancer.’ Kate gurgled with laughter. ‘I heard he fought a duel with someone over her, but I dare say it was all a hum. Oh dear, I should not have mentioned that, should I? Mama says my tongue will be the ruin of me and she is right.’

‘I believe many gentlemen have a mistress,’ Eliza said, sounding calmer than she felt. ‘But… I have no wish to become one of them.’

‘No, indeed it is not to be thought of for, then I could not know you and that would be a shame.’ Kate’s humour was irrepressible. ‘Not that I should take a jot of notice but Mama would not approve. You will pay him no mind, Eliza. Unless of course he were to propose marriage. They do say reformed rakes make good husbands in the end.’

‘You are a wicked tease,’ Eliza told her. ‘It is as well I have no intention of having my head turned by a handsome face.’

‘So you do like him,’ Kate crowed. ‘No, no, I shall not tease you, dearest Eliza—but just think how fortunate it would be if he should offer.’

Eliza shook her head. To allow herself even one thought in that direction would be madness. She was not sure she would be permitted to dance that evening or even if it would be wise. Lord Seaton was too far above her and the more she mixed with him the more painful it would be in the end. She might even have to leave Lady Sarah’s employ at the end of the month, and then she might never see him again.

The thought brought a sharp swift pain to her heart, but she lifted her head in the air. She refused to be foolish enough to fall for a man she hardly knew and could never know better.

They were approaching the shop they had come to visit and Kate’s attention was taken by the array of beautiful fans in the window. Some were of painted paper, others of ivory and lace, some with silver or jewelled handles and very costly.

‘Oh, there are so many lovely ones,’ Kate exclaimed. ‘How do I choose just one?’

Eliza was able to enjoy helping her friend to choose. She was, after all, a sensible girl and she would not fall into a dangerous flirtation simply because a certain man made her heart race whenever he was near.

Daniel walked past the house where Lord Roberts was staying, heading for a popular coffee house in the hope of meeting with friends. His thoughts were once again in turmoil. He had set out with the firm intention of asking Lord Roberts for his daughter’s hand and then applying for a loan to settle his gambling debt, which he would repay when he could. However, Miss Henderson had overset his plans by mentioning the assembly. He had been unable to resist the unconscious appeal in Miss Bancroft’s eyes when she spoke of her first public ball. The prospect of dancing with her had awoken something inside him that had lain dormant for a while and he anticipated the evening with some eagerness.

Surely it could not matter if he did not speak to Lord Roberts immediately?

Eliza Bancroft.

Daniel wanted to see laughter in those expressive eyes. He wanted to dance with Eliza, hold her body close to his and perhaps take her out into the moonlight to steal a few kisses.

He remembered a previous stolen kiss. He could almost taste her, smell the perfume that was uniquely her own. He wanted so much more! Forbidden thoughts of Eliza lying in silken sheets, her hair spread on the pillow and her lips swollen by his passionate kisses, slightly open as she waited for more…

The sight of a curricle driving past in the opposite direction, interrupted his pleasurable thoughts. A cold shaft of anger shot through him as he saw the cause of all his troubles. The Marquis of Cheadle was in Bath, which meant that they would be bound to meet in company. Therefore, he must arrange a private interview as soon as possible. He would see what advantage was to be gained from bargaining over the ring he held as surety for a few hundred guineas.

Why did the marquis’s ring bear the same inscription as that in Eliza’s ring? She said it had belonged to her mother—had there been something between Mrs Bancroft and Cheadle? Surely not! The lady was the wife of the Reverend Bancroft and, as far as Daniel knew, of spotless reputation. It was mere coincidence and a trifle that should not enter his head again. He had more important things to consider.

For a moment, Daniel’s thoughts dwelled on the possibility that Cheadle might know something of his cousin’s death. He must seek him out and ask a few questions before handing over the ring.

Eliza glanced at herself in the mirror as she prepared for the assembly that evening. Her gown was a miracle of white silk tulle, lace and elegant styling. Trimmed lightly here and there with tiny knots of black ribbon, it looked so expensive and fashionable that Eliza was almost frightened to leave her room.

Surely Lady Sarah would not approve of her companion wearing a gown such as this one?

Her heart was sinking as she walked the short distance down the hall to her employer’s bedchamber. Lady Sarah could not have intended her companion to look so stylish.

‘Come in, my dear,’ her employer’s voice invited her to enter as she tapped the door.

‘I am so sorry,’ Eliza began immediately to apologise. ‘I thought madame would make something more suited to my situation. Shall I change?’

‘What nonsense, Eliza. You look beautiful…’ Lady Sarah beckoned her forwards, her expression intent as she looked at her closely. ‘The gown is elegant and perfect for you, my dear. I knew madame would do you justice, but I had not expected such a change. You look… very different. Do you not like your gown?’

‘I love it,’ Eliza assured her. ‘I thought… well, does it not make me look as if I am a young lady of fashion?’

‘Exactly. Just as you should look, Eliza. You deserve something nice and I am happy to be in a position to give it to you.’ Lady Sarah smiled at her. ‘I am very pleased with madame’s work. You must thank her when she comes again.’

‘Are you sure it is not too good for a companion?’

Lady Sarah hesitated, then, ‘You have become my friend, Eliza… almost like a daughter to me. We have not known each other long, but already I am so fond of you. I want you to be happy while you stay with me.’

‘I am happy. I feel so fortunate to have been chosen by you, ma’am. I would never wish to do anything to distress you.’

‘I am sure you will not.’ Lady Sarah nodded, a hint of tears in her eyes. She knew that she might have gone too far, but she was enjoying treating Eliza, as she would her lost daughter when she found her. ‘We must go down. We do not wish to keep the horses standing. This evening is your first assembly. You will not wish to miss a moment—and of course you must dance as much as you please. It will give me great pleasure to watch and to know that you are enjoying yourself.’

‘You are so kind to me.’

Eliza made sure that her employer had all she needed, following her down the stairs and out to the waiting carriage. It was strange how close she felt to Lady Sarah, almost as though she had known her all her life.

Eliza was a little overwhelmed by the noise and press of people mingling in the huge assembly rooms. She thought that all Bath society must have gathered for the occasion, their costly jewels glittering in the light from the heavy chandeliers. However, once they had passed into a room where chairs and sofas had been grouped they found friends.

‘Come and sit beside me,’ Lady Julia invited. ‘Kate has been on the fidget since we arrived. Now you may leave us to ourselves and join the other young people.’

‘Are you comfortable, ma’am?’ Eliza asked, looking at her employer. ‘Is there anything I may fetch you before I go with Kate?’

‘Lord Melcher is arranging some champagne—’ Lady Julia broke off as two gentlemen approached, one tall and dark, the other slightly broader in the shoulder with fair hair and a little moustache. ‘Lord Smythe… Mr Thatcher, good evening. You know my daughter Kate, of course—may I introduce you to Miss Eliza Bancroft. She is visiting with my great friend Lady Sarah.’

‘Ma’am, Miss Henderson, Miss Bancroft.’ Lord Smythe bowed to Kate. ‘May I have the honour of this next dance?’

‘Only if Mr Thatcher intends to dance with my friend Miss Bancroft,’ Kate said with a wicked smile. ‘Afterwards, you may both change partners.’

‘Kate, you need not…’ Eliza blushed, but the fair-haired gentleman bowed to her and smiled.

‘Miss Henderson need not have prompted me, Miss Bancroft. I shall be greatly honoured if you will grant me the favour of this dance—and another, if I may have your card for a moment?’

‘Oh…’ Eliza hesitated and then handed him the little card she wore on a ribbon about her wrist. He wrote his name in a space later that evening and then offered his arm. ‘Thank you, Mr Thatcher. It is so kind of you.’

‘My pleasure, I assure you.’

She took his arm, feeling an immediate liking for a man who was clearly one of Kate’s intimate friends.

‘Is this your first visit to Bath, Miss Bancroft?’

‘Yes. I have been living quietly in the country. My mother was ill for some months before she died—but Lady Sarah is so good to me.’

‘I do not know the lady well, but Lady Julia and Miss Henderson are good friends—and neighbours in the country. Father’s estate is in Hampshire.’

‘We lived in Norfolk.’

Drawn into what was a lively country dance, Eliza was swept along by the music and enjoyed herself too much to be self-conscious or shy. She had never been given formal dancing lessons, but dances like this had been a part of the celebrations at the earl’s home each Christmas. As the vicar’s daughter she had been invited and knew how to perform most of the dances creditably.

The next set of dances was slower and more elegant. Eliza watched for a few moments, confident that she knew the steps. When Lord Smythe asked her to dance she felt able to give him her hand.

After the first few dances, Kate and Eliza were reunited, and a steady stream of young and sometimes older gentlemen made their way to the girls to be introduced by one of the ladies or gentlemen present and to request a dance.

In consequence, both girls soon found their cards filled, except for those they had saved in advance. Eliza had kept two free just in case Lord Seaton should arrive later in the evening. He did not appear in the first hour or so and she sat one of them out, taking the chance for some refreshment with Lady Sarah.

It must have been nearly ten o’clock when she saw him coming towards her. Her heart leaped with excitement, because he was so very handsome in his immaculate evening dress and his smile seemed just for her.

‘Did you think I had forgotten my promise, Miss Bancroft?’ Daniel asked. ‘I hope you have kept a dance for me—or have I lost it to another because of my tardy arrival?’

‘I did keep the next dance, sir—should you wish it.’

‘I most certainly do and I must beg your forgiveness for being so late. I was delayed by some important business.’ He laughed as her brows arched. ‘No, I assure you. It was a card game with friends and I won—quite fairly.’

‘I would never suspect you of anything less,’ she replied, a smile in her eyes.

Daniel inclined his head, taking her hand to draw her forwards into the throng of dancers. ‘This is a waltz. You have no objection, Miss Bancroft?’

‘I have danced a waltz only twice, Lord Seaton. You must forgive me if I am not entirely proficient.’

‘Just allow me to lead you. You need not fear, Miss Bancroft. You are in good hands.’

Eliza trembled inwardly as he put his hand at the small of her back, but her calm smile remained intact. As soon as they began to dance she lost all sense of nerves and the sensation was like floating to music. With no one else had Eliza experienced this glorious feeling of lightness and a sense of being far away from the crowd. It was as if she were alone with Lord Seaton and there was no one else in the world. Had she closed her eyes she could have believed she was dancing in the moonlight; there was no one but the man whose arms held her, making her heart beat with slow sure strokes. A little sigh of pleasure left her lips.

‘You approve,’ Lord Seaton’s teasing voice broke the spell. ‘I am better at dancing than some other things, perhaps?’

‘You must know you are an excellent dancer, sir.’

‘It is a pleasure to dance with you, Miss Bancroft. You are like thistledown in my arms. I could wish our dance might last for ever.’

His words so exactly mirrored her own thoughts that she felt a blaze of pure happiness. It was like being in heaven… the most wonderful feeling she had ever known.

When the music ended, Eliza felt a sharp pain of loss as he let her go and stood back. She wanted to be back in his arms, out in the moonlight. She wanted… She made an effort to control her emotions as he escorted her to her friends. This was so foolish! It was just a dance, even though it had seemed so much more.

Lady Sarah was talking to a gentleman Eliza had never met before. She felt Lord Seaton’s fingers tighten on her arm and sensed tension in him. Glancing at his face, she noticed the pulse flicking at his temple.

‘Ah, there you are, my dearest,’ Lady Sarah said. ‘I should like to introduce you to the Marquis of Cheadle, Eliza. As I am sure you recall, it was he who sent his carriage to Norwich to collect you.’

‘Yes, of course, and I am extremely grateful, sir,’ Eliza said, her keen gaze taking in a man in his late thirties or early forties perhaps, attractive, elegantly dressed with eyes of a greenish-brown that some called hazel. ‘It was a most comfortable journey due to your generosity.’

‘I am glad to hear it, Miss Bancroft, though my coachman tells me you had an unpleasant incident on the last stage of the journey?’

‘Oh…’ Eliza resisted the temptation to look at Lord Seaton. ‘It was really nothing very much, my lord.’

‘Nothing, you say?’ The marquis’s eyes narrowed. ‘Not quite what I expected to hear, Miss Bancroft. But perhaps we should discuss this at another time? If I may call in the morning, I should like to hear your side of the affair.’ He inclined his head and then looked at her companion. ‘Seaton, good evening.’

‘Cheadle. Where are you staying? I must call on you soon.’

‘Yes, I have a debt to settle. At your convenience, Seaton. We have a house in Queen’s Square.’

‘Perhaps the day after tomorrow?’

‘If you wish.’

‘Eliza, I am ready to leave,’ Lady Sarah said. ‘Lady Julia will see you home if you wish to stay later?’

‘No, thank you, ma’am. I am perfectly ready to leave.’

‘Very well. We shall say goodnight to our friends.’

‘Allow me to summon your carriage, ma’am,’ Lord Seaton said and went off to arrange it.

Lady Sarah smiled as she took her leave of friends, but leaned on Eliza’s arm, and she guessed that her employer was feeling tired.

Lord Seaton was there to see them into the carriage. Eliza sensed that he, too, had realised Lady Sarah was a little done up and his care for her employer pleased her.

‘Good evening, ladies,’ he said and smiled as he stood back to allow the groom to close the door. ‘I shall call very soon.’

‘We shall always be pleased to see you, sir,’ Lady Sarah assured him.

Eliza thanked him but said no more.

When they were settled in the carriage and on their way, she enquired if her employer was unwell.

‘Oh, no, my dear. Just a little tired.’ Lady Sarah gave her a searching look. ‘You did not tell me that you were held up by a wicked highwayman, Eliza?’

‘It really was nothing, ma’am. I did not wish to distress you when there was no need.’

‘But Cheadle’s coachman was concerned for a while that the rogue meant to kidnap you?’

‘No… he merely wished to… apologise.’ Eliza blushed in the darkness of the carriage. She did not wish to lie to her generous employer, but how could she explain without giving Lord Seaton’s secret away? ‘I believe he imagined someone else was in the carriage. It was a mere prank, ma’am—a bet, I believe, between friends.’

‘How very odd.’ Lady Sarah’s expression was troubled. ‘There is some mystery here. The marquis may have an enemy. I believe he is sometimes suspected of being a ruthless gambler and worse.’

‘You say suspected? You do not think it?’

‘I think he may not be as black as he is painted. When he was younger…’ Lady Sarah sighed. ‘That is the past and I must keep an open mind.’

Eliza sensed that her employer could say more, but she made no attempt to press her. Lady Sarah was silent for most of the remainder of their ride home. Eliza had her own thoughts to keep her mind occupied and her employer was entitled to her secrets.

She saw Lady Sarah safely upstairs, made sure she was being looked after by her maid and then went to bed herself. It had been such a strange evening, filled with sharp memories that Eliza knew would tease her for a long time to come.

She had hung her wonderful dress where she could see it, thinking that it must have been the dress that had brought her so many partners at the ball.

It had been exciting for a girl used to the quiet country life, especially her waltz with Daniel Seaton.

No, she must think of him as Lord Seaton! To allow more intimate thoughts of him would be too dangerous. Daniel Seaton had caused her to fall into a bramble bush and then helped her recover. He had held up her coach, ridden off with her and then kissed her. She might have let herself dream of Daniel, but Lord Seaton must marry a rich wife for the sake of his estate.

As such she could never hope to marry a man like Lord Seaton and so must forget the way her heart jolted when he touched her.

Taking her ring from her dressing case, Eliza slipped it on the middle finger of her right hand. As yet she had not worn it—perhaps she was afraid of what she might discover? Supposing she were to find her mother and then learn that she was not wanted—that the lady resented being found? Her life was happy now. It might be better to leave things as they were. Had her mother cared, she would surely not have given her away. Putting the ring away, she turned her mind to other things.

She must be careful when the marquis questioned her the next morning. Lady Sarah had accepted her explanation, but would the marquis press for more details?

Daniel left the assembly after his dance with Miss Henderson. He had attended for the sole purpose of partnering Miss Eliza Bancroft and the sight of her in that white gown had taken his breath away. She looked like one of the Season’s top débutantes and already the tongues had started wagging.

‘Who do you suppose she is?’ one young buck had asked after he returned from escorting Lady Sarah to her carriage. ‘Do you suppose she is an heiress?’

A devil must have been sitting on his shoulder at that moment for Daniel smiled enigmatically and said, ‘Oh, I doubt there is enough for you, Carstairs. You would run through ten thousand in a year and ruin both her and yourself.’

‘Want her for yourself, do you?’ Carstairs looked at him suspiciously. ‘So she is a secret heiress and you’re in the know.’

‘Did I say that?’ Daniel suddenly felt uneasy as he saw the gleam in the other man’s eyes. He realised the young fool was convinced Eliza was an heiress, but shrugged it off. No doubt someone would tell him the truth before long.

As he walked home, Daniel’s thoughts were divided between the way Eliza had felt in his arms, her smile and the scent of her—and what he ought to say to the marquis when they met. Cheadle was unlikely to confess if he had conspired in the despicable trade of stealing and selling young women.

He still hadn’t spoken to Lord Roberts and was feeling less and less inclined towards a convenient marriage. It would be ridiculous to toss away his one chance of saving his estate because of a young woman’s smile. Eliza might have set his body aflame with a need so strong that it had taken all his willpower to stop himself sweeping her up in his arms and running off with her to a spot where he could make love to her.

He frowned, cursing himself for a fool. Love was surely no more than a fleeting thing. The wise course would be to seek Lord Roberts out first thing in the morning, and yet Daniel knew that he would wait. He had won a thousand guineas at play that evening. Perhaps the bank would accept it as a down payment on his most pressing debts.

Chapter Five

Eliza woke with a sigh on her lips. Her dream had been so enjoyable. She had been living at a pleasant house in the country. In the garden children were playing and she had been aware of a feeling of deep content.

The feeling faded as she recalled that the Marquis of Cheadle was calling that morning. He would want to know every detail of what had happened when a masked highwayman held his carriage at pistol point, and there was so much she could never tell him.

Had she been able to avoid what must obviously be an awkward interview, she would have done so. However, she suspected that the marquis did not give up easily. He was determined to have the truth and she must try to oblige him, without giving Daniel’s secret away.

Oh dear, she was beginning to think of Lord Seaton as Daniel. She suspected that he had been at the centre of her happy dream the previous night and knew she was being very silly. Kate had told her that he was a consummate flirt, though not precisely a rake. He had a mistress and might consider she was fair game, for a companion was not off bounds as a girl like Kate Henderson would be.

A part of her felt that she had known him for years. She both liked and trusted him despite his brief adventure as a highwayman, yet she must not like him too much.

Dressing in a simple grey gown that was far more suitable for her situation than the gown she had worn the previous evening, she went along the hall to see if her employer needed anything. It would be best for all concerned if she put Lord Seaton out of her mind.

Both Eliza and Lady Sarah were in the parlour when the marquis was announced at a quarter to noon. Eliza felt a sinking sensation in her stomach as he was shown into the elegant room.

However, the marquis seemed a perfectly polite gentleman, enquiring after the ladies’ health before sitting down and turning his attention to Eliza.

‘Well, Miss Bancroft, perhaps you could explain to me what happened that day? My coachman says that the rogue rode off with you. He was fearful for your safety, but you returned a short while later seeming none the worse for your ordeal.’ His gaze narrowed intently. ‘Could you explain that little mystery, please?’

Eliza glanced at Lady Sarah and then took a deep breath. ‘I am not perfectly certain what was intended, sir. The… gentleman seemed interested in discovering what I was doing in your carriage, sir.’ Her cheeks felt hot as she avoided his eyes. ‘I hardly like to say what was implied…’

‘Indeed?’ The marquis was silent for a moment, then, ‘May I hazard a guess that the rogue imagined you my mistress?’

‘I think something of the kind was in his mind. When I denied it I was allowed to return to the carriage.’

‘I see.’ The marquis stood up and took a little turn about the parlour before coming back to her. ‘It would seem the rogue claims to have knowledge of me. I must have made an enemy. Were you robbed, Miss Bancroft? I shall repay whatever was stolen, for it was clearly I or someone close to me he meant to rob.’

‘No. My purse was returned to me and a ring that is precious to me. It is all I have of my mother, you see.’

‘And he did not harm or insult you in any way?’

‘Not at all, sir.’ Eliza faltered. ‘I thought it a foolish prank—perhaps for a wager?’

‘A prank you think? Had my men used their weapons, he or they might have died or been badly injured. I do not call that a mere prank, Miss Bancroft.’ She looked at him. His gaze was so severe that she dropped her head. ‘Was there anything you noticed in particular about the rogue? His voice, manner—the colour of his eyes?’

‘Oh…’ She hesitated, then, ‘His voice was rough, but may have been disguised. His eyes may have been grey… or perhaps blue. I could not be certain, sir. I was a little nervous. I am sorry I cannot tell you more.’

‘You have told me more than you imagine,’ he replied with a nod of satisfaction. ‘Plainly, the man is no common thief, but someone with a grudge against me personally.’

‘Who do you think it could be?’ Lady Sarah asked as Eliza remained silent.

‘Someone who knows me well enough to need to disguise himself, though not as well as he imagines. I do not trap decent young ladies into becoming my mistress, though I shall not deny certain accommodations in the past with married ladies who understood the rules.’ His expression relaxed a little. ‘Please forgive me, Miss Bancroft. I am sorry you were used so ill when under my protection. The rogue will be brought to justice, I assure you. If he is a gentleman, he will meet me for this and think himself fortunate to escape the noose.’

‘I am sorry you feel this a personal slight. I am certain it was a harmless prank.’

‘I am surprised that you should take this so calmly, Miss Bancroft. Very surprised.’

He looked at Eliza hard and she blushed. What must he be thinking? Perhaps that she was involved with a man of ill repute—and therefore not the proper person to be companion to Lady Sarah?’

She noticed that he rubbed at the little finger of his left hand, as if he were seeking for something he had lost. Lady Sarah noticed it too.

‘You do not wear your ring,’ Lady Sarah murmured. ‘Is it lost?’

‘Temporarily. I hope to have it restored soon.’

‘Mine was lost years ago, but a ring is just a ring. Memories never leave one.’

During the silence that followed her words, Eliza sensed an undercurrent of feeling—of sharing. It was so intense that she wished she might leave them together without appearing to suggest she understood. In her mind there was no doubt that there had been something special between the marquis and her employer. She could feel the sadness and saw echoes of a lost love in Lady Sarah’s eyes. Her senses told her that there was an old mystery here, but in seconds the barriers were in place again. A casual politeness was resumed and the marquis turned to Eliza, his eyes narrowed and thoughtful.

‘My wife and daughter are in Bath. They did not attend the assembly last evening for they wished to recover from the journey. I think my daughter must be two years or so younger than you, Miss Bancroft. I shall make certain that both you and Lady Sarah are invited to our ball.’

‘How kind of you, sir,’ Eliza said.

‘We shall be delighted to attend.’ Lady Sarah smiled a little wistfully. ‘How is Marianne? And your wife?’

‘Both are well. In confidence, I must tell you that we are expecting an offer for Marianne quite soon.’

‘I am sure she will marry well. She is, I know, a delightful girl.’

The marquis nodded, glanced at his watch, asked to be forgiven and took his leave.

Lady Sarah was silent for a few minutes after he had gone, staring into space as if her mind were elsewhere. Eliza noticed that her hand trembled as she reached for a glass of restorative wine. She gave a little cry as it tipped and spilled a few drops.

‘How clumsy of me…’

‘So easily done,’ Eliza said and swiftly wiped the spill with a napkin the maid had brought earlier with their refreshments. ‘There, it was only a little and no harm done…’ She turned and saw that Lady Sarah’s cheeks were wet with tears. ‘Ma’am, are you ill?’

‘No, just upset.’ Lady Sarah dabbed at her cheeks with a lace kerchief. ‘Sit beside me, Eliza. I am going to tell you a secret, because I think you may have guessed at least a part of my story.’

‘You need tell me nothing, ma’am.’

‘I wish you to know.’ Lady Sarah reached for her hand. ‘You will speak of this to no one else. I know I may trust you, my dear. I was once very much in love with the gentleman who has just left us. He was handsome and charming, but at the time not rich. I was married to Lord Manners. He was not kind or loving and spent all his time with his mistresses in town. Because I was lonely, I was drawn into a love affair with a younger man. Henry was charming and he adored me. My husband discovered the affair, but would not release me. When my lover’s child was born, he took it away from me and forced me to give up my lover. I was devastated, but my husband was a cold cruel man and Cheadle would have been ruined had I defied him. He was younger than I and I felt it would be unfair to burden him with a woman who could not appear in society and a child—and so I chose seclusion in the country, where I stayed seeing only a few friends until my husband died.’

‘Oh, ma’am, how dreadful for you,’ Eliza exclaimed in sympathy. ‘I am so very sorry. I think you loved the marquis very much?’

‘He begged me to go away with him. My husband warned me that he would follow and kill us both. Even had my lover killed him in a duel, which he wanted to do, he would have lost everything. He could not have been an officer in the army with such a scandal hanging over him, and his uncle might easily have disowned him. I could not ruin his life so I agreed to my husband’s terms, though it broke my heart. Do you think me weak and foolish?’

‘Certainly not. You were trapped. There was nothing else you could do.’

‘I felt trapped until my husband died. He never forgave me and took every chance to punish me.’

‘I think you must have suffered a great deal.’

‘Yes, that is true. I have been lonely despite my friends and my son, who is very like his father. I hope one day to find my lost child, but my husband did not make it easy for me. Should I find her and acknowledge her, I should lose the right to live at the Dower House and the portion of his estate he left me. That would not leave me penniless, for I have money of my own, which was denied me while my husband lived—but I should be loathe to lose my home. However, I am determined to find my daughter if I can.’ Her hand tightened on Eliza’s. ‘At least I have you to keep me company. You have brought me a great deal of pleasure, Eliza. Indeed, it is almost like having my daughter with me.’

‘I am happy to be of some comfort to you, ma’am.’

For a moment Eliza was tempted to tell her her own story, but she decided that it would sound too particular, as if she were claiming some kind of kinship with Lady Sarah. That would be too much of a coincidence and was a foolish notion, which she instantly dismissed—though the stories were undoubtedly similar.

‘You are far more than that. Having you here has given me a reason to live, Eliza. I was quite low before you came.’

Eliza smiled and held her hand until she recovered her spirits. She was surprised and honoured to have been given her employer’s confidence. It showed trust and liking on Lady Sarah’s part and gave Eliza a warm glow inside. Not since Mama’s death had she felt needed or loved in quite this way. Of course no one would ever replace the woman who had given her so much love in her heart, but there was room for a good friend and she had found that friend in Lady Sarah.

‘Your invitation to join you was such a wonderful thing for me, ma’am. I had so little experience and did not know if my advertisement would bring any answers.’

‘It was so honest and simple that I knew you would be the right kind of girl. I shall of course keep you with me until you wish to move on, Eliza. I spoke of a trial period, but already I know you so well.’ She sighed with relief. ‘I feel better for having told you.’ She sat up straight in her chair. ‘Now we must both get ready. We are going visiting this afternoon. We shall call and take a dish of tea with various of my friends, but first we must have nuncheon here. Just a light meal, for this evening, as you know, we dine with Lady Julia and Kate.’

The afternoon passed swiftly. Eliza found herself looking from the carriage window in the hope of catching sight of Daniel Seaton. Had she known his direction she might have sent a short note to his lodgings warning him that the Marquis of Cheadle intended to discover the identity of the highwayman. She hoped she had not said anything that would give the marquis a clue. She had sensed something between him and Lord Seaton when they spoke the previous evening. Did Cheadle already suspect him? No, no, why should he? Yet there was definitely some hidden antagonism between the two.

The marquis intended to get to the bottom of the affair. Eliza wished that she could warn Daniel, but fate was not kind to her that day. He was nowhere to be seen in the streets they drove through, nor was he invited to Lady Julia’s dinner.

It was not until the next morning that fortune smiled on her. Lady Sarah had asked that she visit the library and pick up a small packet from the home of Dr Morgan.

‘Doctor Morgan has prepared some new powders for me, Eliza. I could send one of the maids, but I prefer not to disclose private matters to others and the servants will talk. His house is close by the library and it will save the doctor another visit.’

‘I shall be happy to fetch the books and your medicine.’

Eliza was pleased with the chance of a walk. She hoped she might have the good fortune to meet with Daniel Seaton and chanced to see him leaving a small hotel opposite the doctor’s house.

‘Lord Seaton,’ she called. ‘A moment, if you please.’

He heard her voice and crossed the quiet street to greet her with a warm smile. ‘Well met, Miss Bancroft. I was thinking I might call on the chance you were free to drive out with me this afternoon.’

‘I fear I have a prior arrangement with Miss Henderson, but I am glad of a chance to speak with you, sir. Had I known the direction of your lodgings, I should have sent a note yesterday.’

‘Indeed?’ His eyes were suddenly intent and very blue. ‘That sounds serious.’

‘I believe it may be. The Marquis of Cheadle knows of the hold-up. He questioned me closely. I told him as little as I dare, but he suspects the highwayman may be a gentleman—perhaps someone he knows.’

‘I am undone,’ Daniel cried and grinned as he saw her start of alarm. ‘No, Miss Bancroft, how could he guess? I dare say there are a hundred gentlemen in London who may have a score to settle with Cheadle.’

‘I think he suspects there was more to the affair than I have told him—that I am perhaps in league with a person of ill repute.’

‘That might make things awkward for you, for he could try to influence your employer against you.’

‘He means to find the man responsible.’

‘Well, I think he will find that difficult.’ Daniel frowned. ‘Still, for your sake, it may be best if we do not appear to be on intimate terms, Miss Bancroft. I would not have you suffer for such a piece of nonsense. However, my advice remains the same—be careful of Cheadle, for I would not trust him. I have good reason for what I say, believe me.’

‘I believe he is painted blacker than he truly is, sir,’ Eliza said, thinking of what Lady Sarah had told her.

‘Indeed? You must know more of him than I, Miss Bancroft.’

‘Oh, no…’ She blushed under his eagle eye. ‘I hardly know him at all. I believe he could be a dangerous man to have as your enemy, my lord. Perhaps you should tread carefully in your dealings with him.’

‘You think so?’ He looked vastly offended. ‘I am not afraid of any man.’

‘No! I did not mean that, of course. It is simply that I feel as if I have known you for so long and I care what—’ She broke off in confusion—she had said far too much.

The expression of annoyance faded and a twinkle appeared in his eyes. ‘Do you, Miss Bancroft? How very odd that is to be sure. I thought it was but a few weeks since I knocked you into the bramble bush and then held a gun pointed at your heart.’

‘You like to mock me, sir. You must understand that our—acquaintance—has been a trifle unusual.’ She had a tight rein on her feelings now. ‘You knew perfectly well what I meant.’

He met her accusing look with one of amusement. ‘Perfectly, since I feel much the same. I would go so far as to say you are in my thoughts almost constantly, Miss Bancroft. You have quite overset all my well-laid plans.’

‘I do not understand you, sir.’

‘Do you not?’ He laughed softly. ‘Perhaps that is as well, for truly I do not either.’

‘You speak in riddles, sir.’ Eliza gave him a frowning glance, but her heart raced. There was such a look in his eyes, a look that seemed to challenge and provoke. She knew he was flirting with her, but could not quite squash the tiny seed of hope that had insensibly taken root in her heart. Her senses told her that this growing feeling between them was more than mere liking, but her mind denied it as a foolish girl’s dream. The sensible woman in her knew that she could never be more to him than a flirt.

She was a lovechild, a bastard, born of good families and brought up as the daughter of a country parson. Papa had been the third son of an impoverished baron, Mama the daughter of a schoolteacher. Lord Seaton was from another world, another class. She must never forget that, because if she did she would lose her claim to respectability.

‘Well, I have told you of the marquis’s intent,’ she said, recalling her duties. ‘Lady Sarah will be waiting for me.’

‘When shall I see you again? Do you attend the assembly tomorrow evening?’

He had moved closer, as if he would physically prevent her leaving. She saw his expression, the hot glow in his eyes, and her heart caught. There was something about him that told her he wanted more of her but she instinctively knew that he would think only in terms of a brief affair… a few kisses and more if he could persuade the foolish little companion to forget her modesty.

‘I am not certain. I believe we attend the theatre this evening. Lady Sarah wishes to see the production of The Taming of the Shrew.’

‘One of my favourite of Shakespeare’s works,’ Daniel declared and smiled. ‘It is also my intention to see this production. Who knows, perhaps we shall meet there, Miss Bancroft?’

‘Yes, perhaps. Now, if you will excuse me, I really must go.’

‘Must you?’ His gaze made her tremble. She almost thought he would seize her and kiss her in the street and drew back. He laughed and stood away from her. ‘Yes, I suppose you must. Yet perhaps one day I shall have my wish.’

Eliza was not prepared to ask him for an explanation. She walked away, head high, very conscious of his eyes watching her. Lord Seaton had done nothing to make her believe she was special to him, yet she was certain his decision to attend the theatres was an impulse. He had changed his plans so that they might meet for a short time. It was all they could have, just snatched moments of time when she was out walking or they both attended a function. Had she been a young lady of fortune, she would have suspected him of courting her, but as a companion she could not look so high.

Daniel watched her walk away. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game, risking everything by delaying the inevitable. His best interests clearly lay with Susanne Roberts, but he could not bring himself to speak to her or her father.

Amused by his own foolishness, Daniel turned to discover a gentleman he considered one of his best friends advancing towards him.

‘Hastings,’ he saluted him with a grin. ‘What brings you to Bath? I thought you settled in the country for a few months.’

‘Necessity,’ Jack Hastings grimaced. ‘Mama came to visit. She nagged me constantly for a week and so I brought her to Bath. I am told it is time I took myself a bride and set up my nursery. So I must find a suitable girl I can admire—preferably pretty, good-tempered and an heiress, though the money is not as important as the rest.’

Daniel nodded. His friend was dark-hared with grey eyes and a pleasant countenance. Popular with the ladies, he should have no difficulty in finding the right bride.

‘Then we are in similar straits, Jack. I need to marry well, though at the moment I have little inclination for it.’

‘You seemed vastly entertained by the young lady I saw you talking to just now.’

‘Miss Eliza Bancroft?’ It was on the tip of Daniel’s tongue to tell him that Eliza was a companion and therefore not suitable but an imp of mischief made him withhold the information. ‘Ah, yes. She won’t do for you, Jack. Besides, I saw her first, so you have no chance.’

‘Caught your fancy, has she?’ Jack Hastings instantly took up the challenge. ‘Miss Eliza Bancroft, eh? I suppose she is an heiress?’

‘I couldn’t possibly say…’

‘Keeping her all to yourself? You sly dog!’ Jack chuckled. ‘Well, all is fair in love and war, so they say. We’ll see who she prefers. Where is she staying?’

‘In the Crescent with Lady Sarah Manners.’ Daniel relented. ‘I do not think Miss Bancroft is your type, Jack. Cheadle is in town. I rather thought you liked Miss Marianne?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Jack looked gloomy. ‘She had her eye on a duke—at least, her mother did. I may inherit a fortune one day, but I’ll never be more than a baronet. Marianne wants more than that.’

‘Well, if the duke doesn’t come up to scratch she may turn to you. If I wanted her, I would go after her—sweep her off her feet. She will fall in love with you and forget about marrying nobility.’

‘Do you really think so?’ Jack Hastings looked thoughtful. ‘I believed she liked me for a while, then she went cool and wouldn’t look at me. Will you walk to the club with me, Daniel? I have a business proposition I want your advice on—if you would oblige me?’

‘Yes, of course, though I’m not sure I am the man to ask about money.’

‘It concerns setting up a racing stable. With your experience and guidance I think I might just give it a go. I should like you to look some horses over for me and see if you think they would be any good for racing. There are some yearlings and a horse I’m told has huge potential over the hurdles.’

‘In that case I should be delighted to give you my advice.’

‘It was a stroke of luck meeting you,’ Jack said, clearly pleased. ‘We could take a look this afternoon, if you like?’

‘Why not? I have nothing in particular to do, though I am going to the theatre this evening.’

‘We should be back in plenty of time.’

Daniel was pleased that his advice had been sought, because he was considered a good judge of horse flesh. It might be fate that had brought his friend to Bath. He would do well to concentrate on helping Jack to set up his stables and put Miss Eliza Bancroft out of his mind.

The letter from the Bow Street Runner he had employed was waiting for Daniel when he returned to his lodgings. He had been making exhaustive inquiries and thought he was on the trail of something important.

If my instincts are right, and they seldom fail, my lord, I believe we may have uncovered some very nasty goings on. You were on the right track, but this may be much bigger and more widespread than we imagine. I must go down to Bristol, for I think Jed Bailey may provide us with a clue, and it is my information that the girl Molly is with him. They may be in fear of their lives, but I shall write again as soon as I have something more positive.

Daniel frowned over the letter. He had hoped he was wrong, that his agent would say there was no foundation for his suspicions, but it looked as if this affair could turn out to be much worse than he had guessed—and that might result in a terrible scandal. Unless he could keep his cousin’s name out of it and somehow bring the culprits to book without giving his uncle more heartbreak.

He would have to give the matter a lot of thought. Something like this could be dangerous, both for him and the man he had employed. He must write and warn him to take no risks. If necessary, Daniel would have to employ more than one Runner to make certain this did not get out of hand.

Eliza knew that she should not let herself hope Lord Seaton would visit their box at the theatre that evening, but the possibility hovered at the back of her mind. She tried to be sensible, for she was enjoying herself and had become fast friends with Kate and her mama, though she suspected they both liked to gossip rather more than was wise.

They spent the afternoon visiting and, rather to her surprise, Eliza found herself warmly received by everyone. Even a chance meeting with Lady Roberts at the home of a mutual friend proved much pleasanter than on previous occasions. The lady gave her some intent looks and her thin lips formed a smile as she nodded to herself, seeming to confirm something in her mind. She mentioned in passing that her nephew would be in town the following week.

Eliza wondered why the lady would think it necessary to give her this information, but there was no doubt that her manner towards Eliza had undergone a distinct change.

Lady Sarah remarked on it as they drove home to rest and then change for the evening.

‘Not that I am surprised my friends should take to you, Eliza. You have charming manners, my love. I am certain they must make you acceptable to everyone.’

‘You treat me so generously, ma’am. I am sure that is the reason people are being so kind.’

Lady Sarah shook her head, but smiled to herself, seeming satisfied with the explanation.

‘My friends have accepted you for my sake,’ she said.

Eliza agreed that it must be so.

Lady Sarah was very close to the truth, but she might have been shocked had she realised the story that had begun to circulate. Fortunately, as yet it was only being whispered of by a few ladies and had not reached the ears of the gossipmongers.

However, Eliza could not help being aware that people turned their heads to look at her as she and Lady Sarah took their seats that evening. In the few minutes before the lights were dimmed, she sensed curious looks directed at her. However, she forgot all about them as the curtain went up and the play began.

It was during the first interval that something surprising happened. Not one, but four gentlemen visited their box, two of whom were unknown to Lady Sarah and Eliza. They came with friends and asked to be introduced to Miss Bancroft and Lady Sarah.

In the second interval, Lord Seaton and a friend he introduced as Jack Hastings arrived. Jack was gallant enough to go in search of drinks for them all while Daniel took a seat at Eliza’s side.

‘Are you enjoying your evening, Miss Bancroft?’

‘The play is excellent,’ she replied. ‘We have had a stream of visitors. I think Lady Sarah must have a great many friends, though she claimed not to know some of the gentlemen who visited.’

‘Indeed?’ Daniel frowned as a suspicion came to his mind. ‘I had noticed some interest in this box myself. It is a little curious, unless—’ He broke off and looked thoughtful. ‘I shall discover what is going on and tell you tomorrow afternoon. May I ask if you and Miss Henderson would care for a drive in my curricle? I could ask Mr Hastings to accompany us…’

‘I think that would be pleasant.’ Eliza leaned forwards to tap Kate on the arm and put the suggestion to her. Kate glanced round at Lord Seaton and gave him an amused glance, agreeing that a drive would be delightful. ‘We should enjoy such an outing, sir. At what time will you call?’

‘Shall we say two in the afternoon?’

‘Yes. Kate must take nuncheon with us. You will, Kate?’ Her friend nodded and she looked at Daniel. ‘We shall be ready when you call.’

Mr Hastings returned with a waiter and their champagne. The cork was popped and they toasted one another, laughing and smiling.

‘I say, that fellow is rather rude,’ Jack said, giving a young buck in the audience a frown for his impertinence. ‘He had been ogling you for the past ten minutes, Miss Bancroft. Shall I go and tell him to mind his manners?’

‘Oh, no, he is probably admiring Kate,’ Eliza said. ‘She has many admirers.’

‘Yes, I am certain she does,’ he agreed. ‘She is very pretty—but of course you are beautiful, Miss Bancroft—or may I call you Miss Eliza?’

‘Oh…’ She was flustered by his request. ‘If you wish it, I see no reason why not, Mr Hastings.’

‘You must call me Jack,’ he said and grinned at her. ‘I am certain we shall all be great friends. I shall ask Mama to invite you all to her dinner next week.’

As the bell to announce the end of the interval rang then, Eliza was saved from making a reply as the gentlemen left. She caught the mischief in Kate’s eyes, but refrained from asking what she thought so amusing.

The third interval brought another stream of visitors to their box, all of them gentlemen, or, in one case, a lady known to them with her nephew, who had just joined her in Bath. Eliza hoped that Lord Seaton might return, but he did not; though she enjoyed the performance very much, she was disappointed not to have seen more of him.

He was much in her thoughts when she went to bed that evening, but she slept peacefully without dreaming.

Next morning was spent running small errands for Lady Sarah, and greeting Kate when she arrived for nuncheon.

‘I am looking forward to our drive this afternoon,’ Kate said. ‘Mama told me she intends to visit Lady Sarah so you must not worry that she will be alone.’

‘Your mama is very kind,’ Eliza said. ‘Lady Sarah wished to stay home for once, but she will be pleased to see Lady Julia—they are such good friends.’

‘Yes, they are,’ Kate agreed and put on an innocent air. ‘Mama has known her all her life. They remained friends after… the trouble with Lord Manners. Lady Sarah has no secrets from my mother.’ Kate’s eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘Mama generally tells me most things, but she has merely hinted at something concerning you… she thinks she knows your secret, Eliza.’

‘My secret?’ Eliza’s heart pounded. Could Lady Julia have discovered that she was a lovechild? ‘I have no secret, Kate. I cannot think what you mean.’

‘You need not be afraid. Mama has not told me exactly, and neither of us would wish to harm you—but you may confide in me, you know. You are not quite what you seem—are you?’

‘Kate…’ Eliza’s cheeks burned—it seemed that Lady Julia must know the secret of her birth. ‘Please do not mention… I would not wish it generally known.’

‘I knew it,’ Kate crowed and squeezed her arm. ‘Not a word shall pass my lips, I promise. Now, tell me, what did you think of Mr Hastings? Does he not seem an agreeable sort of man?’

Eliza was relieved to have the subject changed. She could not imagine how Lady Julia knew that the Bancrofts were not her parents, but it seemed that she did somehow.

‘Mr Hastings seems very agreeable. I think he and Lord Seaton are close friends.’

‘Yes, that is a fortunate thing,’ Kate replied. ‘I do hope we shall be invited to dinner. I should like to see more of the agreeable Mr Hastings—would not you?’

‘What bee have you got in your bonnet now?’ Eliza was determined to put the embarrassing moment behind her. Kate had promised not to reveal her secret, and though the girl loved to gossip, she would surely keep her word?

Kate smiled and shook her head. Eliza laughed, because she suspected her friend thought Mr Hastings might make Lord Seaton jealous.

When the gentlemen arrived they were both driving smart phaetons with beautiful horses, and both had a young tiger standing up at the back. Kate walked confidently towards Mr Hastings’s rig and was assisted up the steps to sit beside him on the driving box. Eliza approached Lord Seaton’s phaeton with less confidence, feeling a little shy. She had thought they might all go together in an open landau driven by a coachman and was unsure it was a good idea to be seen alone with a gentleman. It was perfectly acceptable for Kate, of course, because the tiger was there for propriety’s sake, but Eliza was a companion and she feared it might look as if she were getting above herself. A gentleman of Daniel’s rank would hardly be courting a humble companion.

However, Lord Seaton’s smile made her forget her fears. His expression was warm, if a little troubled, and he showed great consideration in seeing her settled.

‘I do not think it will be too cold for you,’ he said as she took her seat beside him. ‘However, my tiger has a blanket should you need it.’

‘I am sure I shall not be in the least cold. The sun is very warm and the breeze is most welcome.’

‘How little fuss you make on any account.’ Daniel smiled at her, but she saw a shadow in his eyes. ‘Are you always so forgiving, I wonder? I think what I have to tell you this afternoon may prove upsetting, Miss Eliza… I hope I may call you by your name, as Jack does?’

‘Yes, certainly, my lord.’ Her eyes opened wider as she looked at him curiously. ‘You sound very serious?’

‘I am. Do you think you could call me Seaton, as my friends do? I think Daniel in private, but that may be a step too far just yet?’

‘I think it might be inappropriate, my… sir,’ Eliza said and felt her cheeks getting warm. ‘There is a distance between us, even though you have been kind enough to make nothing of it. Perhaps you should tell me what is in your mind? I think you are troubled—is it on my account?’

‘You are always so perceptive.’ Daniel glanced at her as they left the busy main street and turned off into a quiet country lane. ‘It might have been better had I waited until we could walk alone—but my tiger may be trusted. Even if he could hear us, he would never breathe a word. Would you, Will?’

‘What’s that, my lord?’

Eliza smiled. ‘Are all your servants so well trained?’

‘I rescued Will from the streets of London, where unscrupulous fellows were preying him on. He is grateful for some reason. I really do not know why. I am not an easy master to work for.’ A smothered laugh turned hastily into a cough told Eliza that the tiger’s hearing was perfectly sound. ‘So we may speak freely.’ Daniel hesitated, then, ‘A rumour has started in Bath concerning you, Miss Eliza. I am sorry to tell you that stories are circulating concerning your fortune.’

‘Concerning my fortune? I have none.’ She looked at him in surprise. ‘No, how foolish! Where do the gossips get these stories?’

Hearing an expelled breath, she turned her head to look at him. ‘You do not mean… you could not have thought…’

‘If I am the cause of the rumours, it was a careless remark I made to an acquaintance Carstairs on the evening of the assembly,’ Daniel said. ‘I believe the gown you wore made some people think you were one of the débutantes and he was curious as to who you were. He asked me if I knew your fortune and I told him it would not be enough for him. Unfortunately, he took it into his head that I was trying to put him off, because I intended to make an offer myself. The story has spread, and, as with all such tales, it has grown. You are now believed to be a secret heiress.’

‘But that is terrible,’ Eliza cried, shocked by his words. ‘That must be why all those… how shallow people are…’ Her hands trembled in her lap, but she clasped them firmly together. Had that been what Kate meant? She had thought something different. She would take the first opportunity of disabusing her friend of the idea that she was an heiress. ‘To make so much of a careless remark…’

‘I wish I had bitten off my tongue rather than cause you distress, Eliza. Please forgive me. I did not intend this to happen, believe me—but I should have remembered what a wicked tongue Carstairs has. He is looking for a rich wife, so you may expect him to call.’

‘How awkward,’ Eliza said. ‘I fear he will be much disappointed when he discovers the truth.’

‘You will not tell him, surely?’ Ahead of them the other carriage had pulled to a halt at a point of advantage to admire the view. Daniel did the same. His tiger jumped down and he assisted Eliza to the ground. ‘There is no need for anyone to know.’

Eliza was prevented from replying by Kate, who called to them to come and admire the view a little further along the rise. Eliza gave Daniel a speaking look and walked to join the others, he a step behind her. For some minutes they all admired the view of Bath as it lay below them bathed in sunlight.

Eliza’s thoughts were confused, but she quickly had them in order. Had she been looking to marry, the situation might have been awkward, for she must have told any suitor the truth and it would soon have been common knowledge, but since she was not thinking of marrying anyone the rumour could not really harm anyone.

When Kate and Mr Hastings wandered away to explore a little further, Eliza turned to her companion.

‘I believe you may be right, sir. In time the truth is bound to come out, but for the moment it is probably best to ignore it. Lady Sarah’s friends know I am her penniless companion and will soon set the gabblemongers straight. It would not be proper for me to mention the rumour to anyone, let alone a gentleman who is inclined to speak too freely.’

‘I doubt if he would believe you,’ Daniel said and frowned. ‘Once these idiots get an idea into their heads it is useless to deny it, because they think you are trying to cover it up—though why you should wish to conceal your fortune if you had one is a mystery.’

‘I suppose I might be afraid of fortune hunters.’ Eliza suggested and gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘How silly people are, Seaton. Why can they not judge someone for what they are rather than what they have?’

‘I could not agree more,’ he said. ‘You can see the amusing side to this situation. I admit that I feared you would be angry with me.’

‘In part, Lady Sarah and I are to blame. She has bought me such lovely clothes, clothes a débutante might wear. I did ask her if she was sure I ought to wear a gown like that, but she insisted. I hope it will not upset her when she learns what some people are saying. I am sure she will squash the rumours immediately. If some refuse to believe her, they have only themselves to blame. Besides, it cannot matter—I have no intention of accepting an offer from anyone.’

‘Indeed?’ His brows arched. ‘Do you never wish to be married? Have you a strong dislike of the institution of marriage?’

‘No, certainly not. My parents were happy together…’ Eliza frowned. Her adopted parents had been the perfect couple, but she knew nothing of her true mother or father. ‘I suppose I might marry in the right circumstances, but that is something for the future. While Lady Sarah needs me as a companion I would not think of leaving her.’

‘Ah, I see. Your sentiments are commendable, Miss Eliza. She seems extremely fond of you. It is a shame that her generosity towards you has given some the wrong impression.’

‘Yes. However, if you and others deny the story, I believe it will soon be forgotten. I may not be so popular next time we attend a ball or the theatre, but I shall not let it overset me.’

‘You are such a sensible young lady. I fear a denial may turn some of the old tabbies against you. However, if you smile and say you do not know how the rumour started, I dare say it will go away.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Eliza agreed. If only he knew she was not sensible at all, for she was very much afraid she had fallen in love with him. ‘I am glad you told me, sir, for I am prepared and I shall make a point of telling everyone that I am merely Lady Sarah’s companion.’

‘Perhaps you need not go so far. I am sure that if I drop a few hints about your fortune having been exaggerated the speculation will die a natural death. After all, Lady Marianne Cheadle is in Bath and she is beautiful and an heiress.’

‘I believe she may soon be engaged. I think her parents expect it.’

‘So much the better. It will give the gossips something more interesting to discuss.’ He offered his arm. ‘Shall we stroll in the direction of our friends, Miss Eliza? I believe we ought, do you not agree?’

‘Yes, certainly,’ Eliza replied and smiled at him. ‘You are forgiven, sir. Please do not trouble yourself further on my account. I am certain you have more important things to tease you.’

‘I cannot think of anything more important than the comfort and reputation of a friend,’ Daniel replied. ‘However, I must tell you that I am going out of town for a day or two. Jack wants my advice in the matter of setting up a racing stable. He has been offered some horses and I am to help him purchase them and engage the services of a trainer.’

‘Are you a judge of these things?’ Eliza’s eyes were bright with interest. ‘I have always loved to ride, though I have not been able to for a year or two.’

‘That is a shame. When I return to Bath I shall hire a suitable mount and we may go riding—if you would care for it?’

‘Yes, perhaps—if my employer does not need me.’

‘Your employer seems to wish you to enjoy yourself as much as possible.’ Daniel frowned as she turned her head to call out to Kate. Something about her profile made him think she reminded him of another young girl… but that was impossible. Or was it? He recalled the ring he had taken from Cheadle in that card game and the ring he had seen briefly as Eliza handed it over before he returned it to her. They were very similar in design, though one was obviously meant for a lady’s finger. He thought the inscriptions were identical, though he could not be certain the same person had commissioned them. It was perfectly possible that two different individuals had asked for a similar inscription—and yet in a certain position there was a definite likeness.

When Daniel held up the marquis’s coach, his first thought had been that she was on her way to become Cheadle’s mistress. Eliza had denied it. Her ring came from her mother. The marquis was merely doing her employer a favour by conveying her in his coach. He had accepted her explanation and given the coincidence of the rings no further thought. Now he had begun to wonder.

Was it possible that Eliza was Cheadle’s bastard? She was not so like Marianne Cheadle that it struck you immediately, but for a moment in the sunlight he had seen a likeness.

It was possible that he had stumbled on the truth. It was also possible that the marquis had recommended his bastard to a friend as a companion.

So who was her mother? Eliza said the ring was all she had of her mother. Daniel frowned as he puzzled over the mystery. Her parents had been happy together. Obviously her father could not have known his wife had conceived a child by another man… or was he making a mountain out of a molehill?

Daniel smiled at the foolish notion. Of course Eliza was not Cheadle’s bastard, though if she were… it crossed his mind that he might use the information as blackmail. He dismissed the idea instantly. He still had Cheadle’s ring, but in the morning he would return it and discover what the marquis had to say concerning his cousin Marcus’s suspicious death.

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