Page 30 of A Sense of Injustice
‘Exactly. She forgets her place entirely and will probably do so again, despite the scolding I gave her, if she’s exposed to your company, Lord Swindon.’
Luke glanced at Paul. He would know to ensure that Exton wasn’t invited to dine at Beranger Hall as long as his nieces resided with him.
‘An onerous responsibility for you,’ Luke said, not without sympathy.
Exton sighed. ‘You don’t know the half of it. Give me a straightforward thief to chastise any time of day. Young ladies who set their sights too high frankly terrify me.’
‘No doubt the widowed sister will listen to your advice.’
‘Ha! Felicity has always been wild, so I suppose I am to blame for allowing Lydia to stay with her. But I was not appointed as the girl’s official guardian so there was little I could do to alter things even if I had seen a need for it, which I did not. I assumed Brigstock would keep control of matters you see, so—’
‘Brigstock?’ Luke sat forward. ’Your eldest niece was married to a man called Brigstock?’
Exton looked bemused by Luke’s curt tone and sudden intense interest. ‘Yes. He and Felicity were married for two years. Then Brigstock took a fall from his horse and broke his neck. All terribly sad, of course, but I think the couple were having difficulties before Brigstock’s accident. He came to see me, said he had doubts about Felicity’s constancy.’ Exton rubbed his chin. ‘Not sure what he expected me to do about it. A man ought to be able to control his wife’s wayward habits. Anyway, the next thing I knew, Brigstock was dead, leaving my niece to settle his debts. She had to sell a few things to manage it. I helped her, of course. It was the least I could do.’ He scratched his whiskery chin. ‘Probably shouldn’t be so open about these matters, but I know I can depend upon your discretion, gentlemen.’
‘Indeed you can.’ Luke stood to indicate that the conversation was at an end and offered Exton his hand. ‘Thank you for explaining, and I wish you luck with your difficulty.’
‘Thank you. God alone knows, I shall need it.’
Paul rang the bell and Woodley appeared to show Exton out.
‘What was that all about?’ Paul asked as soon as their visitor was gone. ‘Why did you look so intense when he mentioned Mrs Brigstock’s name?’
‘Now I know where Cleethorp intends to put down roots,’ Luke said, scowling.
‘Cleethorp? Darius Cleethorp? What’s it to do with him?’
‘Hell, I’d forgotten that you have your differences with the man.’
‘That was a long time ago. Water under the bridge.’
‘Even so…’
Luke repeated to Paul everything that Flora had just told him about Cleethorp and his interest in Exton’s niece that made him so desperate for a rich wife.
‘I am now extremely suspicious about the accident that killed an inconvenient husband,’ Luke concluded by saying, his expression sombre.
Chapter Seven
Henry Beranger had enjoyed Louise Pearson’s company enormously the previous evening, which had come as a surprise. He’d always had an eye for any pretty new face at the family’s social gatherings, but those faces inevitably disappointed when he became acquainted with their owners. He shared his brothers’ oft-repeated view that ambitious females who were incapable of rational thought quickly became tedious. Luke had warned him that he must expect to be pursued for his social position.
Miss Pearson had proved to be a refreshing exception. She didn’t simper, flirt or flatter, and had therefore held his interest. He had gone out of his way to entertain her, and although reticent at first she had eventually let her guard down and Henry had sensed an answering interest. She had spent most of her life living in the capital and they held a lively discussion about politics.
Thinking about it afterwards, Henry was astonished at her depth of knowledge on a subject that interested few women. She questioned the free trade system supported by both main political parties that rendered Britain defenceless against the flood of cheap wheat from America, making the harvest of 1879 the worst in living memory. She seemed to think that men in his position had a duty to ease the hardships that resulted from falling wages within the new industrial working class. At a time when her head should be full of nothing more taxing than enjoying being young, wealthy and admired, Miss Pearson seemed to care deeply for those who were less fortunate than herself.
He’d spent much of the night thinking about her, understanding now why none of the young women who had thrown their caps at him in the past had made a lasting impression. Beauty was all very well—and Henry was an ardent admirer of the female form—but he found little to admire in the silliness that inevitably accompanied said beauty. Louise was another matter entirely, and he would like to know her better. She fascinated him for reasons he was unable to identify. She seemed self-assured, yet isolated, and there was something about her circumstances that didn’t quite ring true. She had adroitly changed the subject whenever he asked about her background, and gentlemanly instincts forbade him from pursuing a matter that she clearly didn’t want to discuss.
He had been wondering how to engineer another meeting without also engendering expectations on her part. When he saw her arrive at Beranger Court that afternoon it seemed like providence. He’d been in the billiards room at the time with his brother Sam, and had watched through the window as Flora and Miss Pearson wandered around the lake, heads close, deep in conversation.
‘Concentrate,’ Sam had adjured. ‘The chit has probably called in the hope of seeing you. Wouldn’t do to appear too keen.’
‘I am fairly keen as it happens. She’s…different.’
‘Damn it, Henry!’ Sam put his cue aside and pulled a doomed face. ‘Don’t you dare break ranks! Charlie’s tied the knot and if you go down that route so soon after him then the local tabbies will descend upon us in droves with their dreary chits in tow. You’ll leave Luke and me devilishly exposed to their machinations.’
Harry laughed. ‘Luke can take care of himself. He’s evaded the parson’s mousetrap for this long.’
Sam harrumphed. ‘Even so…’
