Dishonour and Desire. Juliet Landon

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Dishonour and Desire - Juliet Landon Mills & Boon Historical

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that. He’d heard as much from Lord Elyot and his brother, who appeared to like him. They had also told him that Sir Chase belonged to the Four Horse Club, which he wished his son Harry had known before he took him on a wild-goose chase round Richmond Park.

      ‘Your name, Sir Chase? Is it an abbreviation of something?’

      ‘A childhood name that stuck, sir. My father and uncles used to call me Chase Anything after my first adventures in the hunting field. That became just Chase. My mother always calls me Charles, quite properly.’

      Chase Anything, Mr Chester thought, would properly describe what he himself had heard about the man. ‘Any light-o’-loves on the go?’ he asked, looking to catch any confusion.

      There was none. ‘No one who matters,’ said Sir Chase, callously.

      ‘Any side-slips?’

      Again, not a flicker of embarrassment. ‘Absolutely not, sir.’

      ‘And where would you expect my daughter to live, if you managed this miracle?’

      As far away from her family as possible, would have been Sir Chase’s reply if he’d been less diplomatic. ‘That would not cause any kind of problem, Mr Chester. I can purchase a place somewhere if Miss Chester doesn’t like the ones I have.’

      ‘Well, that’s a juicy carrot if ever I saw one. If I’ve learnt one thing about women it’s that they have likes and dislikes about where they want to live. Still, you’re an unconventional kind of chap, are you not?’

      ‘I would have thought,’ said Sir Chase, borrowing Miss Chester’s own phrase, ‘that your daughter would be very little interested in the sober, plodding, narrowminded kind of man as husband-material. She strikes me as being a high-spirited kind of woman who needs a man who can keep up with her. You need not fear that I shall drag her into gaming-hells or be unfaithful. Nor would I allow her to fall into any kind of trouble. When I make the effort to win something, sir, I don’t mistreat it. As for my age, how old are the men she was engaged to marry? Loddon is a middle-aged ninny tied to his mother’s apron-strings in deepest Cornwall. Hadstoke is fifty, if he’s a day, with a grown family at each other’s throats. And as for St Helen’s…well, a woman would have to be desperate to accept that old tup.’

      ‘Wealth and titles. That’s important for any woman.’

      ‘For any father, sir, if I may say so. I have a baronetcy which my heir, when I get one, will inherit with my estate. And I have youth and vigour on my side, also. And if, as I believe, Miss Chester enjoys driving that crane-neck phaeton out there, my kind of life might suit her very well.’

      ‘Oh, I wish Lady Elyot had not lent it to her. It’s far too dangerous.’

      ‘For your taste, perhaps. Now, have I put your mind at ease?’

      If Stephen Chester’s mind was not completely at ease concerning this overpowering man’s suitability to be his son-in-law, he did not let the fact stand in the way of his decision, which he had already made well before the cross-examination. That had been a mere formality for the sake of appearances. Caterina must be married, come what may. ‘You’ve never been married, I take it?’ he said, trying not to appear too eager.

      ‘Never offered for a woman until today.’

      ‘Then it’s a great risk you’re taking. You’ll need luck on such an impulsive gamble. But then, you have nothing much to lose, do you?’

      The man’s crassness, Sir Chase thought, was astounding. ‘It’s a risk, sir, I agree. But I stand to lose what I want, as do we both. I shall need your full cooperation, and that of Mrs Chester.’

      ‘Oh, of course. You can rely on that, if nothing else. Caterina’s stepmother will use every persuasion to—’

      ‘No, sir. I would rather be the one to use persuasion, if you please. Mrs Chester will have to approve of me, naturally, but if you could leave the means to me I would be more than grateful. I imagine Miss Chester could dig her heels in if she felt she was being pressured.’

      Miss Chester had done nothing but dig her heels in, of late. What was more, it was going to be difficult, if not impossible, to keep Hannah calm about the glad tidings that Caterina’s hand was being sought yet again, after so many disappointments. ‘You may depend on it, Sir Chase,’ he said.

      ‘Then I shall leave you to tell Miss Chester that I have made an offer for her. There can be no harm in that.’

      ‘No harm at—oh…wait a moment.’ Mr Chester’s hand went to his forehead. ‘Might it…?’ he said, whispering his thoughts.

      ‘Might it what, sir?’

      ‘Well, this weekend she’ll be away at Lord and Lady Ensdale’s house party. She won’t be back till Tuesday. Might it be better if I were to delay speaking of this until after her return? She’ll be singing, you see, and apparently her voice doesn’t work too well when she’s angry…upset…you know?’

      A lesser mortal would have quaked against such a prophecy, but Sir Chase had begun to expect any kind of tactlessness from this man. At least he’d had the grace to consider the timing. ‘I understand perfectly,’ Sir Chase replied, wondering if she needed to be told at all, in view of the most unusual circumstances. Perhaps they could judge the situation better after this coming weekend, though he was inclined to disagree with Chester that the lady’s voice would not work well once the idea was put to her. He believed it would work very well indeed, with himself in the firing-line. ‘One more detail,’ he said, bracing himself. ‘You mentioned Miss Chester’s dowry. I believe, sir, now that my suit is being considered, that I have the right to know what to expect in dowry, settlements and jointures.’ He did not intend the man to escape without feeling the sting.

      Holding his long jaw in a tight fist as though it might otherwise dislocate, Stephen Chester sighed through his nose, preparing himself for the next few uncomfortable minutes. He did not enjoy giving money away any more than he liked borrowing it. ‘Shall we sit, Sir Chase?’ he said.

      Inevitably, the question of a time limit was raised, though Mr Chester was in favour of a delayed deadline that would assist Sir Chase’s success. The suitor preferred more of a challenge. With what he had in mind, six weeks might be unrealistic, but it sounded better than six months. In the end, it was agreed that Sir Chase would need all summer, the situation to be reviewed at the autumnal equinox.

      Soon afterwards, the two men walked to the stable yard to look at the phaeton from where Mr Chester was called to attend his wife rather urgently. Returning to the house, he had just enough time to gulp down the remainder of his guest’s brandy before picking up the gold-edged calling-card, putting it in his waistcoat pocket, smoothing his hair and, adopting an expression of false cheer, going upstairs to Hannah.

      Waiting until her father had disappeared into the noisy baby-scented nursery, Caterina tripped quietly downstairs to the back of the house from where a path led to the door in the high brick wall between the garden and the stable yard. Here, she hoped to take another look at the cleaned phaeton and to examine Aunt Amelie’s dapple-greys. If Harry had damaged them, there would indeed be trouble.

      To her surprise and irritation, the grey hunter and its green-liveried groom were still there. Worse still, Joseph and Sir Chase Boston were sauntering through the double door of the carriage house from where they could see her easily, standing in the full glare of the sun. The temptation

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