A Fraudulent Betrothal Read online

  ‘Then it’s all right with you, sir.’ Mr Harricot eyed his master askance, but turned willingly enough to seek out the young groom when Markham returned a curt word of command.

  ‘Be careful what you say to the lad,’ Mr Markham hissed the words out the side of his mouth and straight away turned on his heels. He didn’t want to be involved in her machinations.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A Groom’s Tale

  ‘Thank you, Mr Harricot.’ The man had accompanied the carriage around to the front of the house and promptly opened the door of the vehicle when Clarissa appeared at the head of the front steps. She was neatly dressed in a pale blue kerseymere travelling suit over gaitered half boots, and displayed a Russian bonnet atop her softly flowing curls, which had been caught up into a knot.

  He bowed slightly when she entered the vehicle. ‘Ain’t you taking your maid, miss?’

  ‘I left behind a trinket I particularly wished to wear. She will be down with it in a moment.’ Clarissa was amazed at the facility with which she could tell the lie, and all without the slightest of blushes.

  ‘Yes, miss.’ Mr Harricot paused a moment, somewhat over-set by the circumstances. ‘I hope you won’t hold my refusal against me, miss. I was only doing my duty.’

  ‘I can assure you nothing was further from my mind.’ Clarissa closed the door firmly and leaned through the opening with a reassuring smile. ‘You may leave with an easy mind, Mr Harricot. Tom is quite capable of holding the horses until Sophie appears.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’

  Mr Harricot still showed no signs of leaving until Clarissa raised her eyebrows expressively.

  ‘It’s like this, miss,’ he began eventually, ‘Tom’s my own lad and—’

  ‘He won’t get into any trouble on my account,’ she interrupted him. ‘I have no intention of meeting anyone today. I may purchase a few trifling gee-gaws at the Emporium, but I’ll be back soon.’

  With that Mr Harricot had to be satisfied. He had been dismissed, and though he still plainly harboured suspicions, or at least some anxiety for his son’s well-being, he couldn’t very well remain in direct defiance of her order.

  Clarissa watched after him, waiting until he’d disappeared from view before dismounting from the carriage.

  ‘Hello, Tom,’ she began, to put him at his ease. ‘I seem to owe you something of an apology. I understand you could have been turned off without reference for allowing me to slip the traces.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’ The lad turned a pair of bright eyes on her. ‘Wasn’t you, though, was it, miss?’

  ‘It wasn’t?’ Clarissa resorted to acting like the proverbial parrot, so surprised as she was at having her deception discovered by a boy she’d barely met.

  ‘You’re very like her, but you’re not Miss Marianne.’

  Clarissa floundered for a moment longer, then decided it wasn’t worth the effort in trying to confound his theories.

  ‘No,’ she answered wearily. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘Miss Marianne always took Sabre out when she wished to ride. He’s a bit of a handful when fresh, and you prefer a quieter mount. Pleased my da no end.’ Tom paused shyly. ‘Mr Harricot, that is. He thought you were showing proper decorum for once, but it suspicioned me. Then again, when you returned from the country, Miss Sophie asked me some very strange questions about where you’d suddenly appeared from and who’d collected you. Not like her to dally with the stable lads, miss. She’s no flighty young maid like some I could name. Miss Sophie’s proper hoity toity.’

  ‘You’re a very clever young lad.’ Clarissa considered her groom carefully, wondering how she could deal with the situation.

  ‘I ain’t seeking to make it difficult for you, miss. I won’t tell on you.’ He gave her a searching glance. ‘Not if you’re looking to help Miss Marianne. Is she still unwell?’

  ‘She disappeared on the very afternoon you brought Sophie home without her.’ Clarissa, having considered the matter, decided to confide in the stable lad. ‘Nobody’s seen her since, though she did leave a note to say she’d return as soon as she might. The Markhams put around news of her illness and subsequent retirement to the country to protect her from ill-mannered gossip.’

  She watched a gamut of emotions play across the young lad’s face and instantly decided he must have been totally under Marianne’s spell. No doubt a pawn in his position would have been a useful adjunct to her sister when she was planning an illicit tryst.

  ‘I didn’t want to leave without her,’ the young groom admitted, ‘but Miss Sophie told me it was all above board and I knew she wouldn’t let any harm come to her beloved mistress. Was it Lord Leighton she met?’

  ‘I doubt it. Did you see no one?’

  ‘No, miss. I stayed with the carriage while they took a stroll on one of the commons. Only a small one, miss, not like the fashionable parks.’ He gave a start. ‘Are you a detective, miss?’

  ‘No.’ Clarissa had to laugh despite her fears. ‘I’m her sister and beginning to get worried for her safety. She might have written that she’d return, but she hasn’t done so yet.’

  ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘Was she … did she have any luggage with her that afternoon?’

  ‘Not that I was aware of,’ the lad answered at once. ‘She certainly carried nothing when she went walking, and later, once Sophie returned, she never went after her with any baggage.’

  That, at least, seemed to scotch any suspicion of an elopement. Marianne wouldn’t have been such a goose as to forget her luggage. Nevertheless, Clarissa felt certain her sister had gone to the park with the specific intention of meeting someone, in all probability a man.

  ‘Do you know anyone called Stephen?’ Clarissa threw in the name at random, it was the only lead she had. ‘Marianne or Sophie might have mentioned his name in passing.’

  ‘No, miss.’ He paused of a sudden and wrinkled his brows. ‘Now you mention baggage, miss, I saw Sophie early next morning when she tried to sneak out the back alleyway loaded down with a huge bundle. The rear gate is approached past the stables and I happened to be working outside that morning. She told me Miss Marianne had allowed her to take some old blankets to her sister who was sick, but if what you tell me is true, then Miss Marianne never returned and she was telling me a lie.’

  ‘She was lying to you,’ Clarissa decided. ‘Are you sure she was only carrying blankets?’

  ‘No, miss, I didn’t think no more of it at the time. I had other things to occupy my mind than what secrets a maidservant was carrying. Mr Harricot was in a rare temper with me, and he owns a heavy hand when he’s mad.’ Tom positively blanched when he remembered the incident. ‘The bundle was certainly wrapped in a blanket, but what it contained I couldn’t say for certain.’

  ‘It was early?’

  ‘Yes, miss. It’d be before breakfast, at any rate, and we break our fast early in the stables.’

  ‘Could she have carried the bundle as far as you’d driven?’

  ‘Easily, miss,’ replied the young groom scornfully. ‘Miss Sophie’s strong as an ox.’

  ‘You may drive me there then.’ Clarissa made the decision on the instant. She had to make a journey or Mr Harricot would become suspicious, if no one else, and if her sister hadn’t eloped then Marianne, in all likelihood, would remain close by her trysting place.

  ‘What about your maid?’

  ‘Sophie won’t be joining us.’

  ‘I suspicioned that, but it ain’t right for you to travel about without her,’ Tom told her firmly.

  ‘Neither would I, if I weren’t so anxious for Miss Marianne.’

  Using her sister’s name seemed to remove the lad’s final objection to her scheme, though he refused to be totally silenced. ‘Mr Harricot will kill me if he hears of this,’ he muttered.

  ‘Then don’t tell him,’ advised the damsel, who was beginning to think herself sunk completely beyond reproach.

  The journey itself was unexpectedly short.
No more than ten minutes, though, as Clarissa fully realized, it would have taken much longer to walk and she didn’t envy Sophie her task in carrying an apparently large bundle over such a distance. Neither was it anywhere near any Emporium she knew of. She stared at her new surroundings with a jaundiced eye and categorized her findings.

  They were parked by the kerb of a wide crescent, flanked on one side with neatly kept housing and the other by a wide arena of greensward enclosed by iron railings, echoing, in form if not beauty, the elegant gardens that fronted the Markham residence. The houses themselves, though sufficiently large to preserve a feeling of wealth, didn’t display the same elevated taste as those in the Markhams’ own square. She decided they were probably the homes of well-off tradespeople; not those of the wealthiest classes, who were rich as Croesus and could afford to ape the excesses of the aristocracy, but merchants who were nevertheless both successful and respectable.

  Marianne had evidently walked in the park, and even through the carriage window, Clarissa could see the tracks that meandered across the grass, some of them disappearing into the bushes and trees that marked the far edge of the meadow-land at no great distance.

  ‘Miss Marianne went off in that direction.’ Tom suddenly appeared on the edge of her vision, one hand holding on to the reins and the other pointing out a path that led into the thickest of the vegetation. ‘They disappeared for quite a time, a couple of hours at least, but at long length Miss Sophie came back alone.’ He hung his head. ‘I suspicioned Miss Marianne was meeting someone she shouldn’t, not in secret anyways.’

  ‘Didn’t you question Sophie when she returned?’

  ‘She told me Miss Marianne had met some of her friends. They were all going to the party together.’

  ‘Without her clothes, or her maid?’

  ‘I didn’t think of that at the time,’ responded the groom. ‘No one in the house seemed worried for her, or I might have brought it up before I told my Da next day. Made him madder than a hornet, but it didn’t seem to signify. By that time we’d already been told how Miss Marianne was driven into the country to recover from a fever.’

  ‘You were told it was a fever she suffered from?’ Clarissa wondered how any of the servants had been duped by such an unimaginative tale. ‘What did your father think of that story?’

  ‘I never noticed no fever.’ The lad turned wide, innocent eyes on his mistress and she interpolated the rest.

  Aunt Eleanor may have thought she was fooling everyone, but the servants had obviously been talking. Society too, if what she’d heard of the gossip from Emily was to be believed. Her face flushed when she realized on what a knife edge she’d stood; only her remarkable likeness to her sister could have saved the day. And even that may not have sufficed if Leighton’s attentions hadn’t been so particular. Was that a deliberate ploy on his part? Had he, too, suspected something was in the wind? Visiting the Markhams so immediately on his return pointed towards such a suspicion, but finding her in residence must have forestalled his uncertainty.

  Clarissa was quite sure in her deception; no one but Sophie and the stable lad had reason to be suspicious of her role as Marianne. Both of them, for their own reasons, were absurdly loyal to her sister; loyal to the point of abetting her in an undertaking that could ruin her future forever.

  Tom, at least, seemed to realize how wrong he’d been and Clarissa threw herself on his conscience.

  ‘Sophie has a half day due, this very afternoon,’ she told him earnestly. ‘I believe she knows exactly where to find Miss Marianne, and if I’m correct, she may take the opportunity to visit her. I intend to follow her.’

  ‘On foot, miss? I don’t think that’s such a good idea.’

  The young lad looked as though he were out of his depth, and to prevent him confessing the whole to his father, Clarissa issued a stern warning.

  ‘It wasn’t a good idea to keep quiet about my sister’s whereabouts either, my lad. You, and your father too, both of you could lose your jobs over this, and very likely face a spell in gaol, if you aren’t transported first.’ The young groom paled, close to tears, and Clarissa softened her expression. ‘Help me, and I swear you won’t regret it.’

  ‘I’ll come with you, miss,’ he assented eagerly.

  ‘No.’ Clarissa was very clear. ‘I’ll follow her on my own. The pair of us together will create more interest than a single lady alone.’

  ‘Then what do you want from me?’

  ‘Sophie will leave by the servant’s entrance around the side of the house. I can engage to spot her if she exits into the square; the morning-room overlooks the street at the front. If she decides to sneak out of the rear gates as she did before then I’d never know. You must keep that way under observation and send a message to me if she attempts it.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’ The young groom wasn’t satisfied with the role Clarissa had mapped out, but neither did he intend to question a lady who’d already shown a hint of the steel in her. His most pressing problem would lie in sending a message to the young mistress without raising suspicions; his da really would kill him if he discovered his son aiding her in yet another illicit adventure.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Lost in the Capital

  Fortunately for Clarissa the Markhams were both out visiting during the day, and she was able to bespeak an early luncheon before stationing herself in a window embrasure in the morning-room. Doubly fortunate, for either one of her relatives would have exclaimed at her costume, and even Downing, who’d served her lunch, had found the steady nerves of a butler almost over-set. For, in the expectation of needing to look somewhat less of the lady of fashion, Clarissa had donned one of the dowdiest of the gardening clothes she herself had brought with her. The costume was neat and clean, of course, but nothing could disguise its unfashionable cut or threadbare appearance. Nevertheless it would more nearly suit her intentions to merge into the background during her self-imposed task of following her maid, than any other of her gowns.

  Despite her fears that Sophie would slip into the alleyway through the rear entrance to the Markhams’ grounds, the maid dutifully appeared on the street in front of Clarissa’s own eyes later that afternoon. That young lady immediately leapt up, and catching hold of an equally unfashionable spencer and poke bonnet to hide her hair, hared down the stairs and through the front door before a bemused footman had the chance to open it for her.

  She’d made no note of the maidservant’s direction, but to her relief Sophie was still in plain sight and she settled down to follow the girl. It was a simple task at first, the wide avenues, crescents and squares of the more fashionable streets allowing her to hang back out of plain sight. These, however, soon gave way to poorer districts, and Clarissa found herself having to close in on her quarry for fear of losing her in the maze of roads and alleyways she found herself following. The carriage had not travelled this route, but she decided it must be a short cut. She certainly hoped so, for London was proving to be bigger and dirtier than she could ever have imagined in her wildest dreams.

  About this time she began to suspect that either Sophie knew she was being followed and was attempting to lose her pursuer, or that they were heading for a totally different part of town from that in which Tom had dropped her sister. The maid ducked into a maze of filthy alleyways with all the confidence of a local and Clarissa followed, breaking into a trot, for she was determined by now to catch her quarry and have it out with her whatever the cost. Marianne would never have consented to remain in a place like this!

  They turned a corner, almost tunnel like in its proportions, with Clarissa no more than a couple of yards behind, but to her surprise, the maid had vanished. Astonished by the swift disappearance of her quarry, the girl stared perplexed at the rubbish-strewn street and the stinking miasma that rose from its filthy surface. Only one doorway seemed to fit the circumstances and Clarissa immediately grasped its handle and strode in, expecting to find Sophie had taken refuge in a shop.

  She was
wrong; it was a common ale-house, if such a stinking, smoke-ridden, vermin-infested hole could be dignified by that appellation. The customers were as dirty and unsavoury as the hell-hole itself and Clarissa speedily backed out when one of them shouted out a very blunt and distasteful invitation. She stared around herself again, aware the maidservant had tricked her, but without any clear plan forming in her mind. Had Sophie braved the disgusting odours of the alehouse? Or was she hiding somewhere close by? The ale-house door began to open, and the burly rough who’d issued the lewd invitation appeared. Clarissa fled.

  At first she thought she was retracing her steps, but it soon became clear she was only thrusting deeper into the filthy streets of the poorest and roughest of districts. A wider avenue, along which a street market was operating, brought hope to her breast and she began to stride out, shrinking from the beggars and other roughs squatting in the filth of the gutters.

  ‘Please.’ She accosted one of the least mean-looking of a band of women gathered around the entrance to a dark and gloomy alleyway.

  ‘What d’you mean by coming round ’ere, you painted little madam? Go find your own pitch.’ The woman’s face swiftly turned as ugly as her threats and Clarissa backed off, uneasily aware of the filthy names being flung at her by the other women. It was a misunderstanding, but she was wise enough not to stay to explain it, when some of the suggestions for her immediate disposal involved painful and anatomically impossible adjustments to her body.

  She ran on in a panic, following the wider avenues, until at length she came upon the edge of a commercial district. Evening was beginning to fall and since not one of the people on the streets looked in the slightest bit respectable, Clarissa began to realize she could expect no help from any quarter. She was lost and would have to find herself.

  For a moment she floundered then, catching a glimpse of the river, began to orient herself. She knew she must travel west, upriver, but stared at the rapidly darkening, jumble of streets and alleyways in that direction with some dismay. A young girl careered out of a side road and cannoned into her, knocking them both headlong into a filthy puddle that stained the gutters. A burly man was following her at a run, hurling a stream of foul invective and whirling the crop in his hand.