suggested. ‘That would give you an excuse to ship me off to the country.’
‘It would, my dear, if that is really what you want, but let us discuss it again later. Off you go now and change your gown for dinner. We will say no more about it tonight.’ Henry waited until Serena had left the room, then he said slowly, ‘I do not like it, Dorothea. She has lost her spirit.’
‘That can only be a good thing. The girl was growing far too wild.’
‘I grant you she was always a little hot to hand, but this new meekness—I cannot be easy. Perhaps we should call the doctor.’
‘What, and have him quack her with expensive and unnecessary medicines? No, leave her be, Henry. I have long considered that she thinks far too highly of herself. This incident with Forsbrook has brought her down to earth. I have no doubt she will recover and, in the meantime, we should seek out a husband for her. With her fortune it should not be impossible to find an acceptable match, despite this scandal.’
‘I agree. There are several fellows who would take her, I am sure.’
‘Then we should see to it, while she is so biddable.’
Henry shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Dorothea—would it be right to persuade her to tie the knot when she is not herself? When her spirits return she might regret it.’
His wife cast him an impatient glance. ‘That will be her husband’s problem, not ours.’
* * *
Quinn scooped up the small pile of letters from his desk and glanced at each one. Nothing from Bruton Street.
‘Confound it, what do you expect?’ he growled to himself as he threw the letters back down.
It was nearly two weeks since Hambridge had carried Serena away from Melham Court, but the fellow was unlikely to write and thank him for his part in rescuing his ward and it would be highly improper for Serena to do so. Discretion was the watchword and it would be foolhardy for any mention of the matter to be committed to paper.
He reached for a pen and began to trim the nib. He should forget all about it. After all, he wanted no thanks for what he had done. But the image of Serena haunted his dreams. Not the cowering figure he had come upon at the Swan, but Serena as he had seen her in the gardens of Grindlesham House, head up, eyes sparkling with indignation. The same eyes that had gazed upon him so trustingly as he coaxed her from her bath.
His hands stilled at the memory. He had subdued the thought at the time, but she had reminded him of a painting he had seen as a very young man: another Titian Venus, but this time the goddess was rising from the sea. Shy, vulnerable and utterly enchanting.
Quinn shifted in his chair. Enough of this. He had no interest in Serena Russington. She had foolishly put herself in danger and he had acted as any gentleman would, nothing more. The Hambridges would look after her and quell any gossip, so there was no point in Quinn worrying about the chit. But he was damned if he could forget her!
He heard voices in the hall and the study door opened.
‘Tony!’ Quinn jumped up and came around the desk, holding out his hand to his friend. ‘I thought you were staying in town for another month at least.’
‘That had been my intention. Lottie remains in town—she has engagements that she cannot break, but I confess my curiosity got the better of me.’ Sir Anthony Beckford gestured towards his buckskins and glossy Hessians. ‘I am on my way now to Prior’s Holt, but thought I would stop off and try some of the claret you were boasting of.’
‘By all means. Come along to the drawing room and I will have Dunnock fetch some.’
In very little time they were sitting comfortably, a decanter on the small table between them and a glass of ruby-red wine in hand.
Quinn watched in amusement as his friend made a show of sniffing the wine and taking a sip before nodding appreciatively.
‘Excellent. This came in through Bristol, you say? I must put my man on to it.’
‘Send him to Averys and they will see to it.’ Quinn shot a glance at his friend. ‘But you did not come here merely to taste my wine. What is it that has whetted your curiosity?’
‘Why you, my friend.’ Tony lifted his glass to the light and twisted the stem between his fingers. ‘I came to discover for myself if you have taken a mistress.’
The calm atmosphere of the drawing room became suddenly tense. Quinn schooled his expression into one of amusement.
‘What an absurd idea. You know I am not in the petticoat line.’
‘That is what I thought, but the rumours in town made me wonder.’
Quinn put down his glass. The way his hand had been tightening around it he was afraid he might snap the stem.
‘Then perhaps you would be good enough to tell me just what it is that you have heard.’
‘I was at White’s a couple of nights back and Walsham came in. You may not know him. Something of a mushroom, but with connections enough to give him entrée into most places in town. He strolls up to Hambridge and asks after his sister. Now, in general such a remark would pass unnoticed, but a sudden hush fell over the room, and Hambridge looked so put out there was no ignoring it.’ Tony settled himself more comfortably in his chair. ‘Walsham did not leave it there, however. He pulls out his snuff box and says, in the coolest way imaginable, “Your good lady told me I was mistaken in thinking Miss Russington was at the Swan and it must be so, because Jack Downing says she cried off from Vauxhall that very same evening, pleading ill health. I trust it is not serious, no one’s seen her for well over a week.” Well, by this time Hambridge is frowning like a thundercloud. He jumped to his feet, exclaiming that he had no patience with all the tattling busybodies who try to make mischief out of nothing. Then he stalked off. Quite out of character, I thought. He is generally such a dull dog.’
‘And this is all?’ Quinn refilled their glasses. ‘My dear Tony, I am surprised at you, to be taking note of such a trifle.’
‘And I should not have thought any more about it, had I not gone to Tattersall’s yesterday. You will recall there was a very pretty Arab mare I had my eye on, but that is by the by. I ran into Sir Timothy Forsbrook there, you see. He was selling his greys and mighty cut up about it, too. Blamed it all on a woman who had dashed his hopes. He was in his cups and happy to tell anyone who would listen how the mysterious Miss R. had persuaded him to run away with her on May Day, only to abandon him at Hitchin for a much richer prize.’ Tony’s shoulders lifted a fraction. ‘The richer prize was not named, of course, but I remembered you had travelled to Melham Court that evening, and would have passed the Swan.’ He paused. ‘It made me wonder—’
‘Hell and damnation!’
At Quinn’s violent exclamation Tony’s casual manner deserted him and he sat bolt upright.
‘Never say that there is any truth in this, Quinn!’
‘No. Yes!’ Quinn jumped to his feet. ‘Has anyone else connected me with this affair?’
‘Not yet, although at the clubs last night they were already beginning to link Forsbrook’s juicy tale to Walsham’s gossip. ’Tis
