An Improper Companion

The earl raised his brows, his piercing blue eyes intent on her face. ‘Are you offering to undertake the task, Miss Travers?’

‘It would be a pleasure to at least make a start, though of course it could take many months or even years to complete,’ Elizabeth said, turning her serious eyes on him. ‘But only if I have your approval?’

‘Well, you must not tire yourself,’ the earl said, ‘or my mother will have it that I am a wicked slave driver—but if you have a few moments to spare now and then…’

‘It would be much easier for you if all the estate books were in one section, the serious works on another shelf, for they are perhaps the books you like to read, and then literature and poetry.’

‘You have excellent judgement, Miss Travers. I see that I could do no better than to leave my library in your hands.’

‘Oh…’ She blushed with pleasure, for something in his look had made her heart flutter. ‘If you are sure, it would be such a pleasure to me, sir. Of all things I love books, reading and touching them—and to catalogue such a wonderful collection would be such a treat.’

‘Is it a wonderful collection? I had thought there were a few treasures, but most of it seems a hotchpotch of nonsense.’

‘Oh, no, how could you?’ Elizabeth caught the gleam in his eyes and realised that he was teasing her. ‘But you know there are some rare volumes here, do you not?’

‘Yes, I confess it is one of my interests, and if I were not dreadfully indolent I would have put them in order before this—but I have not been at home often since my return from the Peninsula, you see. And there has been much to see to at our various estates—my father had not been well for a while before his death.’

‘And I dare say you did not like to make sweeping changes to your father’s domain too soon?’

The earl gave her a thoughtful look, his eyes slightly narrowed. ‘You are perceptive, Miss Travers. For one reason or another my father had allowed things to slide. I have improved things gradually, particularly here since this was my mother’s home. She dislikes our estates in Hampshire and Devon, and of course I reside in London for much of the year.’

Elizabeth nodded. She had noticed the changes he had made—they brought a breath of fresh air to the house. ‘I believe you have patronised Mr Adam, sir? I must say that I admire his work greatly.’

‘His work gives a lightness not often found in the design of others—Mr Chippendale is a great furniture maker, but I believe I prefer Mr Adam’s work.’

‘That is my own feeling,’ Elizabeth agreed. ‘Lady Wentworth recently began the refurbishment of Worth Hall, you know. We discussed the merits of Mr Sheraton and Mr Adam at length—but in the end she decided that she would choose Mr Adam’s work for the drawing room.’

‘Ah…’ The earl smiled. ‘Then I shall know who to turn to when it comes to persuading Mama that she should have her own apartments refurbished.’

‘Oh, no,’ Elizabeth said, a faint colour in her cheeks. Was he mocking her? Perhaps she had spoken out of turn, forgetting that she was merely an employee? ‘I could not possibly influence Lady Isadora. She has excellent taste.’

‘Yes, she does,’ he agreed. Hearing the longcase clock in the hall strike the hour, he inclined his head to her. ‘We must not keep Mama waiting—or perhaps it would be more precise to say we must not upset Monsieur Delfarge. You must know that he is French and somewhat temperamental. I had to bribe him to come here, for he prefers London, but he obliged me and we must not do anything that would cause him to desert us. Poor Mama suffered with a terrible cook for years.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Elizabeth said and laughed, for he was clearly jesting now. ‘I do understand. My mama had a dreadful cook for some years, too. Papa finally told her that if she did not dismiss her he would go to London and live at his club.’

‘Then you understand why we are all at such pains to be punctual for meals.’ The earl gave her his lazy smile, which unaccountably made Elizabeth’s heart beat rather faster than usual. ‘Tell me, Miss Travers, do you think you shall settle here?’

‘Yes, I believe so, sir,’ she replied. ‘I was very grateful to Lady Isadora for offering me the position as her companion.’

‘Ah, yes,’ the earl said, and mischief lurked in the depth of his eyes. ‘Did you have a good journey down?’

‘Yes…’ Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, and then, ‘It was an odd coincidence…I met and spoke to Mr John Elworthy, who I believe is a friend of yours—and I also saw Sir Montague Forsythe at the inn we had chosen to break our journey. Mr Elworthy had been given one of our rooms, but he gave it up to me and slept in the stables when he learned of the mistake.’

Cavendish nodded. ‘Yes, John would do that. He is one of the best—a perfect gentleman.’

‘You know him well, sir?’ Elizabeth looked at him, her fine brows raised.

‘Certainly. His estate is some fifteen miles from here and we were at school together as lads.’

‘Oh…’ Elizabeth was thoughtful. ‘Mr Elworthy was the only reliable witness to my father’s wager, you know.’

‘Yes, I do know. He has told me of what he saw and heard that day. John says that he wishes he had not heard Sir Edwin’s words so clearly, otherwise he would have believed that your father was trapped into the wager—which would, of course, make it null and void.’

‘It is what I have always believed. Papa would not normally have done anything that foolish. He was not a gambler nor did he drink to excess.’

The earl nodded and looked thoughtful. ‘I dislike Sir Montague Forsythe for reasons which we shall not discuss, and there may come a time when his activities will be under intense scrutiny. I can say no more for the moment—but should his affairs be investigated, I will undertake to see what can be done about your father’s affair.’

They had gained the top of the stairs. Elizabeth stopped to look at him, trying to read his expression and failing. ‘Do you think my father could have been coerced into making that wager, sir?’

‘I cannot tell what may have occurred,’ the earl said. ‘I only know for certain that I believe Sir Montague to be less than honest—and perhaps a dangerous man.’

‘Dangerous?’

‘Yes, I believe so, though I have no proof,’ the earl said. ‘But you must say nothing for the present, Miss Travers. I have only suspicions to go on, and there must be proof.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Elizabeth gave him a smile that lit up her eyes. In repose her features were not remarkable, some might even say plain—but when she smiled her inner loveliness came through. ‘I am glad we have spoken of this, sir, for my brother has been trying to arrange a meeting with Mr Elworthy. It was in my mind to write to him to tell him that nothing could be gained from such a meeting—and now I shall add that I think he ought not to approach Sir Montague either.’

‘It would not be wise for him to do so, for without proof he can do nothing.’

On that they ended their conversation, for they had arrived at the drawing room in almost the same instant as Lady Isadora.

‘Ah, there you are, Elizabeth,’ she said, smiling at them both with an innocence that made her son at least suspect her of mischief. ‘I thought you must have come down earlier, for I went to your room.’

‘I am sorry—did you need me?’

‘Not at all, my dear. I wondered if you had found everything to your liking.’

‘How could I not?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘Everything is of the finest and I am very comfortable. I have also to thank you for the gowns you provided, though I do not think I shall wear bright colours just yet.’

‘Shall you not?’ Lady Isadora asked with a vague smile. ‘Well, they were just a small gift to thank you for being so kind as to come to me—but your allowance shall be paid monthly and you may choose whatever you wish when we go down to Brighton next month.’

‘Oh, no…I mean, you have already been so generous.’

‘I like pretty things, and I like to see those about me happy,’ Lady Isadora said. She looked at her son. ‘Have you been keeping Elizabeth company, dearest?’

‘We happened to meet in the library,’ Daniel told her. ‘Miss Travers shares a love of books, Mama. She has very kindly offered to begin the task of sorting them into some order when she has the time.’

‘I do hope you did not press her into it?’ Lady Isadora frowned at him.

‘Oh, indeed not,’ Elizabeth said instantly. ‘You must know that I like to be busy, ma’am. I am sure that I shall enjoying cataloguing and sorting the books, and there are many that I think we shall enjoy reading together.’

‘Well, as long as you are happy,’ Lady Isadora said. ‘Shall we go in, my dears? I am perfectly certain dinner is ready…’

Elizabeth could not remember an evening she had enjoyed more for some months. After an excellent meal they had repaired to the drawing room, the earl refusing to drink his port in lonely isolation, and swearing that he would prefer to take tea with them. However, she noticed that he had been served with brandy in the drawing room.

Lady Isadora had declared that she was not in the mood for cards and begged Elizabeth to play for them on the pianoforte. She was happy to oblige and played two classical pieces before going on to a play and sing one of the popular ditties of the day. It was then that the earl came to stand beside her, looking through the music at her disposal before choosing something.

‘We might sing this together if it pleases you,’ he suggested. It was a duet for male and female, and told the story of lovers.