LITMIR.BIZ

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her paintbrush in the water-pot, Amelie took her time to wipe it into a sharp point before laying it down, then she rose from her chair and picked up her shawl to drape it around her shoulders. Her morning dress was a brief pale-green muslin over which she wore a deeper green sleeveless pelisse, and she did not want his stares at her bosom any more than she wanted his stupid insinuations.

      ‘I did receive it, sir, and I think you are as much of a fool as ever you were to make contact with me, whether by letter or in person.’ And if I did not want desperately to find out more of another matter, you are the last person to whom I would ever give house room. ‘What have you come here for, exactly, and why on earth did you return to England?’

      He was about to lay his hat and gloves beside her paintbox, but was stopped. ‘Not on my work table, if you please.’

      He tried again on the demi-lune by the wall. ‘Why did I come out of hiding? Well, you know, I thought I’d take a gamble on seeing you again. The stakes are high, but I cannot stay out of society for the rest of my life, can I? And two years without a sight of your lovely face is too long for any man.’

      ‘You might have suffered a far worse fate, Mr Hurst. Indeed, you should have done. Don’t expect any help from me, sir.’ Even as she spoke, she heard the emptiness of her refusal, for she knew full well that he had come as much for money as to see something of her, and that to keep him quiet she would, eventually, give him some. What alternative was there?

      ‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘One law for the toffs and another for the rest of us, eh?’

      Amelie was committed to redressing that imbalance, but she would not discuss that with such a man. ‘And what have you come for, sir, apart from delivering the mealy-mouthed flattery?’

      For an instant, Hurst’s eyes narrowed at her rebuke. ‘You were always cruel, Amelie,’ he said, quietly.

      ‘I loved my husband,’ she replied.

      ‘And he’s left you even more comfortable than you were before,’ he said, looking around him at the beautiful feminine green-and-whiteness. ‘Well, then, perhaps you might consider sharing it with me for a few days since I’m looking for somewhere to lay my head.’

      ‘Here? Don’t be ridiculous, man. You must know you can’t stay here. What would.?’

      ‘What would the neighbours say? They wouldn’t see me.’

      She felt the fear crawl inside her, standing the hairs up along her arms, and she summoned all her grit to hold on to her apparent coolness.

      ‘Oh, I understand why you had to move on,’ he continued, picking up a pencil sketch of a toadstool and studying it. ‘You’ve not lost your knack, I see. You must have known you’d not escape while I’m still alive, but the gossip…well, that’s equally tricky to shake off, isn’t it? And there’s Miss Caterina too. She’ll not get far in society once your affairs get an airing, will she? And you’re not going to blow the whistle on me or you’d have to be a witness at my trial, and then the whole nasty business will be there for everybody to pick over. Newspaper reports, cold shoulders. Very embarrassing. No, my lady, surely you didn’t think moving down here would solve everything, did you?’

      ‘You’ve thought it all out, haven’t you? And put that down.’

      ‘I’ve had two years to think it out, my dear Amelie, and only the memory of your beauty to keep me sane. Oh, yes, I’ve thought it out all right, so now you can start with a generous subscription to my funds. Then you can send for Mrs Braith-waite. See, I still remember your housekeeper’s name. I’ll take one of the best rooms. Next to yours?’

      ‘Get out! Get out of here and crawl back into the gutter.’

      ‘Tch! Still like ice, dear Amelie. Did that old husband of yours never—?’

      ‘Get out!’ She reached for the hand bell on her work table, but Hurst’s hand was quick to grasp her wrist, holding her arm in midair as if he was about to assault her.

      She had known him during the two years of her marriage, and indeed there had been a time when she had thought him likeable, charming and clever. He and Amelie’s husband had gambled together regularly, but whereas Sir Josiah knew exactly when to stop, Hurst never did, nor when to stop drinking, or borrowing money, or making promises he couldn’t keep. Perhaps if Amelie had never shown him any of the kindliness she extended to all Josiah’s friends, this man might never have deluded himself about her. But self-discipline was not a strong point with Hurst as it was with her husband, and there had come a time when all his weaknesses came together. Now he was a man to be feared, for the pity she had once borne him had been purged forever, and he had become a menace.

      ‘Let go of my arm, Mr Hurst,’ she said calmly, though she quaked inside with every shade of insult and anger. ‘You have forgotten yourself, I believe. I can lend you some money and then I shall expect you to go and find somewhere to stay. You can not stay here. It’s not as safe as you think. I have some rather influential friends, you see.’ It was a long shot, but it might work.

      Releasing her, he watched as she moved away well beyond his reach while his eyes widened at her boast. It was unlike her. ‘You surely don’t mean the Marquess and his son? Him, too? What’s his name…Elyot? So you know the man who’s been scouring Buxton for gossip about you, then?’

      ‘He was not scouring Buxton for gossip, Mr Hurst,’ she said, fabricating the beginning of an outrageous piece of fiction in the hope that he might swallow it. ‘He was simply clearing up some questions to do with Sir Josiah’s property. The man you spoke to was Lord Elyot’s lawyer. Naturally he wouldn’t disclose his client’s business to a complete stranger, would he? The neighbours he visited are those whose names I gave him, personal friends, and loyal. There was no need for your dramatic conclusion, Mr Hurst. It’s all quite innocent. He should be back from Manchester any day now, I dare say.’

      Hurst sat down rather suddenly, gripping the arms of the chair until his knuckles were white. ‘What? You know this Lord Elyot and his father? The magistrate? Is it true?’

      ‘Of course I know them,’ she said, derisively, warming to the theme. ‘What do you suppose I’ve been doing for the past five weeks, living like a recluse? Miss Chester is at this moment out driving with Lord Elyot’s brother, visiting his sister.’

      The arrogance drained from his face as he sifted through this surprising development, hoping to find a flaw in it. He tried scepticism. ‘Hah! You’re not telling me he sent a man up to Buxton to prepare the ground for some kind of. understanding… between you, are you? After only five weeks?’

      ‘He’s settling a few legal matters for me, visiting my solicitor. He has the means. It’s quite the usual way to proceed, I’m told.’

      ‘That’s not what I asked you,’ he said, nastily. ‘Do you have an understanding with this man?’

      ‘Yes, of sorts.’ The plunge into such a fathomless untruth was like a douche of icy water, so absurd was the idea. She had never told such a whopper before, but nor had she needed the protection of a man’s name more than she did now, her excuse being that Lord Elyot would never know how she had used him, of all unlikely people. ‘You really do ask the most indelicate questions, Mr Hurst. It is not common knowledge, yet.’

      Hurst leaned back in the chair, eyeing her with some disbelief. If a man could win her in five weeks, he must have something no one else had. Even Chester with all his wealth had taken longer than that, but then she had been only twenty and as green as grass. ‘Not common knowledge, eh? That sounds to me remarkably like saying that Lord Elyot doesn’t know of it either.’

      ‘Then you’ll be able to ask him yourself, won’t you? I’m expecting him to call any time now.’ That, she thought, should see the back of him.

      To her joy, her clever ruse began to work. Hurst rose slowly from the chair and strolled over to pick up his hat and gloves, apparently taking

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