And, Elyse, just think of it. You will be with Mr Reverson for your birthday on the twenty-ninth of September.’
‘Yes. I shall be one-and-twenty.’
‘At which date my guardianship of you comes to an end,’ stated Drew.
‘And not a moment too soon.’
Mrs Matthews tutted.
‘Now, now, Elyse, it was your father’s wish that Mr Bastion should have a care for you and we must respect that.’ She smiled at Drew. ‘So you will be accompanying us to the viscount’s principal seat, sir? I believe it is in Cambridgeshire.’
‘No. Lord Whittlewood informs me he will be at his town house in London.’
Drew recalled the viscount’s letter which Harry had passed over to him. It was unusually specific. Miss Salforde was to be delivered into his care by Michaelmas and not a day later, or he would consider the agreement null and void. Drew did not know how binding that last clause would be, but to drag the matter through the courts was unthinkable. It would not reflect well upon either party. The viscount’s standing was sufficiently good for him to survive it, but Harry’s name would fare less well, and the scandal attached to his daughter would ruin her for life. And as for his own part in the affair, Drew had no wish to attract the notice of the authorities.
He said now, ‘I intend to deliver Miss Salforde to Lord Whittlewood in London by the end of the week. I will then remain in town for the two weeks until Michaelmas. That will give me time to ascertain that Miss Salforde is happy with all the arrangements before I relinquish my guardianship. After that she will be in the care of the viscount, who plans to remove the whole family to Cambridgeshire for the banns to be called.’
‘Yes of course, but...’ Mrs Matthews frowned. ‘To be in town by the end of the week we will need to set out in a few days’ time.’
Drew nodded. ‘Wednesday at the latest, ma’am. If the weather turns we might easily take a se’ennight to reach London.’
Elyse had been listening in silence, but now she gave an outraged gasp. The news of her forthcoming marriage was shock enough, but to leave her home at such short notice was intolerable.
‘That’s the day after tomorrow,’ she said. ‘We cannot possibly be ready so soon.’
‘I’m afraid you will have to be.’
‘You are riding roughshod over us, Mr Bastion.’
His gaze flickered over her, the blue eyes cold and indifferent.
‘I would have thought you would be impatient to join your fiancé. Perhaps you are not so eager for the match as you once were?’
‘Of course I am, but—’
‘But nothing, Miss Salforde. You have tomorrow to do your packing and make your arrangements.’
She sat upright in her chair, bristling with indignation.
‘It is not long enough. Why, there are a dozen little things I shall need, including new gowns.’ Elyse turned to look at Aunt Matthews, but she received no support there.
‘We will manage with what we have, my dear. After all, we shall be able to go shopping in town, and think how much more exciting that will be. Do not worry, Mr Bastion. Elyse and I will be ready.’
‘Good.’ He rose. ‘I will organise a post-chaise and send you word of what time it will call for you.’
Elyse felt her anger bubbling up inside. She had one hand resting on the table and it clenched tightly into a fist as she drew in a breath to retort, but Aunt Matthews covered her fingers with her own and squeezed them warningly as she repeated quietly, ‘We will be ready, sir.’
* * *
‘What an insufferable man!’
Elyse had struggled to contain herself until Mr Bastion had been shown out and the door had barely closed behind him before her exclamation was uttered, resonant with suppressed violence.
‘Hush my dear, he may still hear you.’
‘I am sure I do not care. I declare I quite abhor him.’
‘Why should you do that, my love, when he is doing his best to carry out your father’s wishes?’
‘But in such a high-handed manner.’
Aunt Matthews chuckled.
‘He does appear to be in a hurry to get you to the viscount, does he not? But there, your father’s plans were never straightforward, so doubtless there is a good reason for it,’ she added shrewdly.
Elyse tossed her head. ‘He is the most arrogant, overbearing man I have ever met.’
‘Is he? I think it more likely that he is the first man you have met who has not succumbed to your charms.’
Elyse flushed, not at all pleased at her aunt displaying such unwonted perspicacity. She said no more on the subject and presently took herself off to bed, where her rest was disturbed by dreams of an autocratic gentleman with searching blue eyes.
* * *
Despite a long journey and the bracing sea air, it was a long time before Drew slept. He had very reluctantly agreed to become guardian to Harry’s daughter and now he realised that his qualms had been justified. Harry had described his daughter as intelligent, spirited and beautiful, but he had not told Drew just how spirited she was. Nor had Drew believed she would be so beautiful. A veritable diamond. Oh, Harry had described her as such but Drew had dismissed that as a father’s natural partiality. And after all, Harry had not seen his daughter for three years, he could not have known with any certainty that the pretty seventeen-year-old would become a nonpareil.
As soon as Drew had arrived in Scarborough he had heard bucks in the taproom toasting the incomparable Miss Salforde and the way they had been clustering around her in her own drawing room convinced him that all the menfolk of the town were in thrall to her. It was not difficult to understand why. She was witty and beautiful and she had a smile that could light up a room. And those large pansy-brown eyes—he had no doubt that her local swains had written odes to them. He had seen for himself how they could be velvet soft or sparkling with anger. He imagined they would be heart-stoppingly glorious when they were shining with happiness. Or love.
The thought had him turning restlessly in his bed. He might not have his old friend’s weakness for a pretty face, but he could not deny the attraction he felt towards Elyse Salforde. What was it that Harry had said?
‘Who better than a rake to look after a beautiful woman? Poacher turned gamekeeper, my friend.’
Well, perhaps there is still a little too much of the poacher about me, thought Drew.
There was no doubt that he found Elyse Salforde too damned tempting for comfort. It wasn’t just her beauty, but something within her, some force of nature that shone out. When their eyes met it seemed to call to him, like a kindred spirit.
By God he was turning into an old fool. He pushed himself up and thumped his pillow before settling down again and pulling the blankets more securely
