Dishonour and Desire

‘I’ve known it to happen.’

‘Maybe. But not in my family.’

‘Then the pressure on Miss Chester to marry must be quite intense.’

‘It is. Well…er…what I mean is…yes. To be quite fair, I don’t suppose I’ve helped much by filling the house with four squalling bairns. Don’t get me wrong, Sir Chase, I’m fond of my family, all of them, but four infants in a house this size is enough to put any young woman off unless she’s the motherly sort. And I don’t think that Caterina is. She wants to practise her piano and her singing. Did I tell you she has a fine voice?’ Not stopping to notice the expression on his guest’s face, he continued. ‘Oh, yes, she’s invited to sing in all the great houses, you know. Takes it very seriously. Yes, indeed.’

‘And your son, Harry? You mentioned he’d returned to Liverpool.’

‘This morning on the early mail, back to his uncle. He’s learning banking. My late brother’s business, you know. Lady Elyot’s first husband.’

‘That’s not quite what he told me when we met in London, sir.’

Stephen Chester’s expression sharpened, his eyes suddenly wary. ‘Oh? What did he tell you?’ he said, coughing between sips of brandy.

‘That he owned two banks in Liverpool. Money no object.’

Stephen stopped his pacing and slammed down his glass. ‘Wait till I get my hands on him,’ he muttered. ‘He’s determined to see me on the rocks. As if I didn’t have problems enough.’

There was an uncomfortable silence during which both men saw these problems from rather different angles, Sir Chase concentrating more on Caterina than on her siblings. She kept rejecting totally unsuitable marriage proposals, yet was desperate to regain the peace she had once known in which she could develop her talents. This was no place for a woman of her sort.

Her father, in his blinkered state, had done less than justice to her talents by not explaining how, in her years of living in Richmond, her voice had been trained by the finest singing teacher in the country, the Italian Signor Rauzzini, until his death last year. That had been a terrible blow to Caterina, for he had nurtured her voice, proclaiming it to be the finest mezzo-soprano he’d heard in one so young. She still had singing lessons and was greatly in demand, but the pressure of having to find a husband to please her parents and sister was having a noticeable effect on her. Her Aunt Amelie had offered to lend her the prized phaeton so that Caterina could escape more often from the domestic pandemonium.

Sir Chase Boston doubted very much that young Harry Chester would be the ruin of his father, but he did not intend to let Chester off the hook when the debt was so substantial, for debt-collecting was what he had come for, not to offer sympathy. The father would deal with his son as he thought fit and the fright of it might help to knock some sense into both their heads. But he himself was beginning to see that there was perhaps more to be gained from Chester’s misfortune than twenty thousand guineas plus the price of the phaeton and pair. ‘Well, then, sir,’ he said, glancing at the inferior brandy, ‘shall we do a few sums to begin with? For the carriage, I would say about…’

‘Er…’ Stephen Chester put out a hand as if to ward off the sound of debt ‘…do you think…er?’

Impassively, Sir Chase waited. He had learned how to be patient, how not to show his hand too soon, as this man did.

‘Er…that there might be another way? An alternative?’ It was as if he was talking to himself. ‘I simply don’t have that kind of blunt, any more than my birdwitted son does. The Buxton house would not sell for anything like enough. To be honest, it’s far more than I would have believed.’ He looked around him, anxiously chewing at the side of his finger. ‘And I’m not sure what I can do about it. Let me think. The dowry, Caterina’s dowry. Well, it looks as if that may not be needed after all, although I shall need something for Sara—but then, if the dowry is reduced, her chances will be even less, won’t they? In fact, they may even disappear altogether,’ he added, habitually accepting the darker side.

‘This dowry. Is it substantial, sir?’

‘Hah! Anything but substantial,’ said Mr Chester, gloomily. ‘So far, Caterina’s face and family have been her fortune, but that won’t always be the case, will it? I’d say her chances have all but slipped away unless she finds somebody to fit her exacting requirements.’ There was more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

‘And you would not consider making an exception by allowing your younger daughter to marry first, simply to take the cost of her off your hands? You must admit, sir, it would make a difference.’

‘No, Sir Chase. I could not do that. It would not be proper. Besides, it would acknowledge that I have given up hope of marrying the elder one off, wouldn’t it? She’d be well and truly stuck on the shelf then.’

‘At twenty-three, sir? Surely not.’

‘At twenty-three, my first wife had a family of three,’ he replied, sharply. ‘No, if Caterina is going to be so difficult to please, I may be obliged to make up her mind for her. She could do worse than accept St Helen’s, if he’s still interested. But he may not be, without a dowry, and I can hardly bear to think what Caterina herself would have to say about it, though I might be able to hazard a guess. She might be persuaded to see it as her duty, but I dare say it would go ill with her to see her sister marry a man of her choice when she was not allowed to. Still…’ he sighed ‘…a duty is a duty, though that won’t find me all of twenty thousand guineas, will it? Do you know, I could kill that son of mine. He must know that a man cannot turn his back on a gambling debt. His tailor is a different kettle of fish, but never a man who wins his wager.’ Then he rallied. ‘Oh, do forgive me. I should not be talking to you like this, Sir Chase. Not the done thing at all, is it?’

‘And would your wife’s family not—?’

‘Help?’ Mr Chester yelped. ‘Good grief, man, no! I would never let Mrs Chester hear a whisper about all this, or I’d never hear the last of it. Besides, she has enough troubles with four of her own bairns. Absolutely not!’

‘So Miss Chester would not tell her?’

‘That my son has got me under the hatches and cleared off to Liverpool?’ Stephen Chester looked at Sir Chase as if he’d taken leave of his senses. ‘I should think not. His stepmother has little enough good opinion of him as it is. And I can’t say I blame her. This would only add fuel to her sentiment that he should have been packed off into the navy.’

‘There are liabilities in every family, sir.’

‘Hum! Glad to hear it. However, the problem is mine and I must be left to deal with it as best I may. Leave it with me, Sir Chase, if you will be so good. I shall call on you tomorrow with my proposals. Are you staying at Mortlake?’

‘I wonder…’ said Sir Chase, glancing out of the window.

‘Eh?’

‘I wonder if you would care to hear my suggestion, sir.’

‘If it’s about borrowing from some cent-per-cent you know, forget it. I never borrow anything.’

‘It’s not that.’ Sir Chase stood on the opposite side of the table with his arms spread like buttresses, drawing the older man’s attention to him by the force of his considerable presence. ‘You want your daughter married, and you believe her chances are dwindling. Well, I may be able to help you there.’

‘You know somebody, do you?’ said Stephen Chester, despondently.

Sir Chase thought his host was the dourest of men, though his excuse was certainly a valid one. Not for one moment did he himself think that Miss Caterina Chester’s case was as serious as her father appeared to believe. At the age of twenty-three, many débutantes were already married, that much was true, but this one was obviously looking for something not on her father’s list and was prepared to wait for it. Nor did he believe that she was on the shelf. Not even approaching it. She was, in fact, the most prime article he’d ever clapped eyes on, but even a Johnny-Raw could see that her father and stepmother between them were handling her more like a child than a grown woman with a mind of her own. That being so, Chester might jump at his offer, and he himself would have to take a different route to achieve his aim. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I know somebody. Me, sir. Myself.’

‘Eh?’ Mr Chester said with a quick frown. From what he’d heard, bang-up coves like Sir Chase Boston did not marry, they took mistresses. His face immediately registered distrust. ‘Oh, I could not agree to that, Sir Chase. She’s had offers to be a man’s mistress before, you know. Only last month, the Duke of—’

‘No, not as a mistress, sir. As a wife. I’m talking about marriage. If I can persuade her to marry me, I am prepared to give you the IOU to tear up, and the cost of the phaeton and pair, too. You’ll be in the clear again.’

‘And what if you can’t? She doesn’t want to marry, Sir Chase. And you could see for yourself that she would never accept you as a husband. Not even as a friend,’ he added, sharpening the barb.

‘Well, then,’ said Sir Chase, straightening up. ‘It was simply a proposal. No offence meant. I’ll expect you at Mortlake tomorrow morning, sir.’

Mr Chester waved a hand, unfurling himself from the chair. ‘No…er, don’t rush off. Have another…oh, you haven’t…well. Now, may I try to understand you correctly? You’re making me an offer for my eldest daughter. Of marriage. Is that correct?’

‘Correct.’

‘And I get the debts written off. That’s part of the deal?’

‘Correct.’

‘There must be something else, surely? What do I lose?’

‘Nothing, unless I am unable to win Miss Chester, after all. Then we shall be back to square one.’

‘Then she must be told that’s what she’s going to do. But…’ he searched the shining tabletop as if for information ‘…I know very little about you, you see, and although I’m very tempted, and…er…gratified by your offer, I would like to know that Caterina would be—how shall I put it?’

‘Well cared for?’

‘Yes. In short, well cared for. But if you’ll forgive me, Sir Chase, there are some fathers, you see, who would look a little askance at your reputation in that department.’ And in plenty of other departments, too, he thought. There were some fathers who would not see this man as a suitable husband for their daughters under any circumstances, though their daughters might harbour sweet fantasies about it. However, the temptation to solve two major problems in one fell swoop was too great to be dismissed on the spot. ‘And if you don’t manage to persuade her?’ he said, still negative.

‘Then I’m afraid, as I said, the debt will stand. You fear I might not?’

‘Sir Chase, I cannot see how anybody could recommend himself to her as she is at the moment. Well, you’ve seen, haven’t you? Nevertheless, if you can recommend yourself to me, I shall do everything in my power as a respected parent to show her where her duty lies. I still have that authority, although I have not so far exercised it. Perhaps I should have done.’

‘I would rather take my own time, sir. In my experience, a lady like your daughter would not take kindly to being rushed over her fences.’

Neither man saw anything inappropriate in the analogy.

‘In your experience. Yes, you’ve had quite a bit of that, haven’t you?’

‘I’m thirty-two years old, sir. What man hasn’t, at that age?’

Stephen Chester hadn’t, for one, though his elder brother had. ‘And your parents are at Mortlake?’ he said, avoiding the question.

‘Boston Lodge. Sir Reginald and Lady FitzSimmon. Sir Reginald is my stepfather, and I am their only son. My own dwelling is on Halfmoon Street in London, sir. I’ve lived there for the last few years, and sometimes in my other properties in the north.’

Mr Chester had no need to ask what he’d been doing over the last few years, with pockets as deep as his, his parents swimming in lard, houses scattered all over the country, friend of the Prince Regent, nothing to do but win more money this way and 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 was to return to the house, but the snub to her father’s guest would have been unforgivable when he was already walking to meet her. ‘I came to see my aunt’s horses,’ she said, wondering why she needed to explain herself. ‘They’re my responsibility,’ she added unnecessarily, hearing the sharp tone of her voice.

Sir Chase’s soft laugh reached his eyes. ‘So they are, Miss Chester,’ he said as he reached the bottom of the steps. ‘Your groom and I have been saying the very same thing.’

‘They’ll need to be hosed down,’ she said, avoiding his eyes, ‘if you brought them back in the same state as the phaeton.’

‘I didn’t,’ he said, holding out his hand as she reached the bottom step.

Obliged to accept his courtesy, she felt the instant warm grip of his fingers and the unresisting strength of his arm that reminded her of what she’d heard of his legendary fencing skills, his boxing and horsemanship. She was also reminded of the enormous debt he had lured her brother into. If the tales that circulated about him were to be believed, this man was dangerous to both men and women.

She reached the cobbles, removing her hand from his without thanks. ‘You had them washed down?’ she said.

He appeared to find her question and manner amusing. ‘It’s one thing to return a carriage in a filthy state, Miss Chester, to show how it’s been misused, but quite another to leave horses like that. It took my grooms hours to get the muck off them last night. If I were you, I’d lock them up next time your brother comes to stay, or you may have a broken leg or two.’

‘Thank you for your advice,’ she replied, icily. ‘Next time my brother comes to stay, we shall probably lock him up, away from men who accept his childish wagers.’

‘Then you might also teach him how to be more accurate with the truth while you’re about it. It doesn’t help matters to spin yarns about one’s circumstances.’ He kept pace with her as she walked quickly towards the stable, his strides worth two of hers.

‘So you’ve never spun yarns about yours, Sir Chase?’

‘Never had any need to. Others might have, but not me. Shall we go and take a look?’ He stopped by the door, holding out an arm to usher her in.

This was not at all what she had intended, nor could she contain the feeling that Sir Chase had the knack of manoeuvring people into situations they would not have chosen for themselves. He had obviously done the same to her foolish brother.

Well lit by tall windows, the stable’s oak stalls were topped by black-painted grilles, each black post topped by a golden ball. Layers of straw muffled the stamps from a forest of legs, and glossy rumps shone like satin, swished by silken tails. The aroma of hay and leather warmed Caterina’s nostrils, and the occasional whicker of greeting combined with the scrunch of hay held in racks on the walls.

The two dapple-greys belonging to Lady Elyot were draped with pale grey rugs monogrammed in one corner, spotlessly clean, their charcoal manes rippling, hooves shining with oil. No effort had been spared to remedy the effects of their bruising drive last evening, yet Caterina withheld the thanks that were overdue.

Without comment, she went alongside the nearest horse, ducking under the cord that roped it off, peeping under the rug and stooping beneath its neck to return along the other side, patting the smooth back as she passed. ‘Good,’ she said, fanning the long tail.

‘It was the least I could do,’ he replied.

‘No, Sir Chase. The least you could do would be to spare my father the distress of having to find the money to pay my brother’s debt. Twenty thousand may be a trifling sum to you, but I can assure you that my father’s circumstances do not accord with the way it looks. He will not have told you how difficult his finances are at the moment. He’s too proud for that. But I’m not, sir. Believe me, he cannot afford it.’

‘By no means is it a trifling sum, Miss Chester. If it had been, I would not be taking the trouble to claim it. Apart from that, your feckless brother should be made to learn that a man does not walk away from a debt of honour without serious consequences. I would have preferred it if he had been hurt a little more. As it is, only his pride will suffer.’

‘As it is, sir, my father is the one to suffer. And me, too, I expect.’ Immediately, she wished she had not allowed him to push her into a snappy retort, for now she would be asked to explain what she meant by that.

‘You, Miss Chester? How does the debt affect you?’

‘Oh, indirectly,’ she waffled. ‘Nothing that need be spoken of. Indeed, I should not have said as much. Please, forget it.’ She began to move away, but Sir Chase’s long stride took him ahead of her and she was stopped by his arm resting on the next golden ball. Frowning, she scowled at the perfect white folds of his neckcloth, aware that this time she had backed herself into a corner.