had become broader, more muscled, his features more lined, almost weatherbeaten. And there was a tiny scar running from his mouth towards his cheek. She wondered where he had been in the last two years, but then told herself sternly she did not want to know.
But she had to acknowledge him for Anne’s sake. ‘Mr Hemingford,’ she said, aware of Donald beside her. ‘How do you do?’ And then, before he could reply, turned to his companion. ‘Anne, isn’t it a lovely morning? I have not enjoyed a ride so much for ages.’ And then she wished she had not spoken because she saw Harry’s mouth twitch in a faint smile and knew he was thinking of days long gone. ‘You are acquainted with Mr Donald Allworthy, I collect.’
‘Yes, indeed.’ Anne put on a bright smile, which only Jane knew was forced. ‘Mr Allworthy, may I present my brother, Harry?’
The two men inclined their heads and bade each other good morning, but Jane could sense their animosity and decided to bring the encounter to an end. ‘Do call on me, Anne,’ she said, turning her mount. ‘But do not make it too long. I am leaving town very soon to stay at Coprise Manor.’ And then, as she drew away, ‘Good-day to you, Mr Hemingford.’
Donald took a cool leave of the brother and sister and followed her. ‘So that was the scapegrace,’ he said. ‘I thought he was out of the country.’
‘So did I.’
‘You had no idea he was back?’
‘None at all. Why should I have? And it is of no consequence.’
‘You are sure?’
‘Yes. The man is a stranger to me now. I hardly recognised him.’ She told herself that was true. Her so-called love had been nothing more than the infatuation of youth and youth had flown. ‘Tell me about Coprise Manor.’
‘You mean to come, then?’
She could feel two pairs of eyes boring into her back and sat ramrod straight. ‘Of course, if Papa agrees.’
‘Who is that fellow?’ Harry demanded of his sister as they watched them ride away.
‘A mushroom,’ she said. ‘A countryman up for the Season in search of a wife.’
‘Jane?’
She nodded. ‘They have been seen about town together every day for the last two weeks and I believe she is about to announce her engagement to him. She would not be going to Coprise otherwise. It is his country home in Norfolk.’
‘Oh.’
‘Harry, you should have come back sooner.’
He grimaced as they walked their horses forward, careful not to catch up with the two in front. ‘I was not in a position to come and go as I pleased and what good would it have done? She has not forgiven me. You could see she hardly knew how to be civil, not even to you, and you are her friend. Besides, we have both moved on; there is nothing at all between us now.’
‘Liar!’
‘Childhood love rarely survives into adulthood, you know.’ He chuckled. ‘And I took rather longer than most to grow up.’
‘But you have grown up, Harry. You are not the stripling that went away two years ago.’
‘No, thank God.’
‘What have you been doing?’ He had turned up on the doorstep two weeks before, soon after Jane’s last visit, bone weary, filthy and recovering from a wound to his thigh that had given him a limp. In that two weeks he had slept and slept, eaten like a hungry wolf, and slowly mended. Today had been his first outing. And they had to run into Jane, of all people.
He smiled, a crooked kind of smile because of the scar. ‘I told you, fighting for King and Country. There is nothing like a few bullets and cannon balls flying around to make a boy into a man.’
‘But you resigned your commission.’
‘So I did. But there are other ways to serve. The army is not so particular about those they take into the ranks. I enlisted as a private soldier and was lucky enough to be taken into the 95th. It was a very salutary experience, I can tell you, but I made a good rifleman.’
‘It must have been terrible. I cannot think why you did it.’
‘I had something to prove, Sis. And it was not so bad. There was hardship, of course, and danger too, but there was also comradeship, a pulling together and sharing whatever you have with each other, rations, clothes, food, jests, even women.’
‘Is it not like that among officers?’
‘Not quite. They are too concerned about their position in the chain of command. A lieutenant’s position as the lowest of the low is only surpassed by that of an ensign, who is truly a nobody. A major looks down on a captain and a colonel can have no friends, being at the top of the regimental pyramid, so to speak. His is a lonely life and I do not envy him.’
‘I collect, when you first had your colours, you said you would come back a colonel.’
‘That was the boy speaking, not the man.’
Looking back, he could not believe what a sousecrown he had been. The adoration of his sister and Jane had swelled his vanity to gigantic proportions. He had been hail-fellow-well-met at his college, had done very little work, learned to gamble and fallen into debt. But wasn’t that the way of all young bloods? His grandfather had put down the dust, but there had been strings attached. The lieutenancy had been thrust under his nose and an ultimatum delivered. He had accepted it with gratitude.
Even then his good intentions had been trammelled underfoot as soon as he arrived in London. Living in the capital had been expensive, with regimentals to buy, a pair of horses to keep, his mess bills and a servant to maintain. It became even more so when he became engaged to Jane and there were parties almost every night, balls and routs to attend, presents to buy for her. He wanted to be the grand suitor, the generous lover, the husband and provider. He could not be that while he was a mere lieutenant, kicking his heels on home ground.
When Clarence Garfitt had told him about Mrs Clarke, he had hesitated, but Clarence, who was a captain and always knew everything that was going on, had assured him that was how many men obtained preferment. Nothing was said against it because to do so would involve the Duke of York and of course no one would dare risk that. What a gull he had been! The whole scandal had come to light and his name became publicly known as one of those officers who had offered a bribe. Jane had been furious and he had compounded his villainy in her eyes by blustering and trying to excuse himself. ‘Everyone does it,’ he had said. ‘I did it for us, so that we could marry. It is not the end of the world.’
But Jane was Jane. Seventeen years old, motherless and with a father who saw and heard nothing that did not relate to his work, she was far from worldly-wise and had been shocked to discover that such people as Mrs Clarke existed—not only existed, but were condoned so long as they never complained. Jane was appalled and outraged to think that her affianced husband had visited the house of such a one. To her everything must be either black or white; she would not admit to shades of grey. He had resigned his commission and taken himself out of her sight.
‘But you did become an officer,’ Anne said, breaking in on his thoughts. ‘You are a captain.’
‘Promoted
