The Wicked Sister Read online

  “Did you?” Braithwaite demanded.

  “Mostly, yes.”

  “For God’s sake man, this is not the time!”

  “In retrospect, perhaps not,” Michael admitted. “I saw no harm in shaking people up and perhaps getting more people to read it than would normally bother. But I underestimated the government’s panic and its effect on you. I’m sorry you were disturbed. Where is Betts?”

  Braithwaite waved one impatient hand. “Gone. Back to London, I trust. I had to promise I would get the truth out of you and punish you accordingly. There had better be no more until Bonaparte is beaten.”

  “You’re probably right,” Michael agreed reluctantly.

  “I am right. Look, we all know there’s nothing in those pamphlets that is, strictly speaking, illegal, but that won’t save you at times of crisis. It probably won’t save me!”

  “I shouldn’t have put you in such a position,” Michael said uncomfortably.

  “Whose idea was it to publish now?”

  “I can’t tell you that, sir.” It had been Judith’s, but he’d elected to take the risk.

  Braithwaite grunted. “Well, now I suppose I have to decide on a suitable punishment.”

  Don’t send me back to London, not yet… Surprised at his silent wish, which was directly contrary to the one with which he had arrived at the castle, he merely spread his hands and waited.

  Braithwaite’s lips quirked. “You have to come to the wretched ball and dance at least twice. And think yourself fortunate that you are already engaged, or you would have my wife and all my sisters matchmaking for you, too.”

  “I cannot imagine they would trouble,” Michael protested, relieved by the leniency of his penalty.

  The earl stood up to go. “You don’t know my wife and sisters. They have taken a shine to you—God help you.”

  Chapter Five

  By the time the family and their guests gathered for dinner that night, Maria was still aware of the pleasurable little frisson that was both excitement and comfort—because she had a new friend. Someone fun who liked her and laughed with her, who talked of fascinating ideas and did not look down upon her replies or feel it his duty to protect her. A man who had no interest in marrying her, her fortune, or her brother’s influence.

  She did not have to talk to him or sit by him at dinner. Just knowing he was there was singularly sweet. She supposed she had been short of friends in the past. There was Genevra Winslow, of course, daughter of a neighboring landowner, but they had been thrown together largely because they were of a similar age.

  Her younger sisters had always been her main companions and confidantes, her older sisters her advisers, with very few outside influences. But these days, Alice and Helen seemed too young, part of another, childish life. Serena and Frances were too distant, too settled in marriage and motherhood to understand her restlessness.

  As well as Lord Underwood and Mr. and Mrs. Gayle, they now also entertained Lord and Lady Daxton, who had decided to come early to Blackhaven and had been staying at the hotel. They were great friends of Serena and Tamar, and Maria had always liked them because they were a little different from most of the ton. Once acknowledged as a rakehell of the first order, Dax was still inclined to fun and conviviality, but he was just as likely to treat the company to a lecture on new farming methods. His wife, Willa, was witty but much calmer in character. They had brought their baby—referred to by the proud parents as “Daxling”—to join the growing number in the castle nursery.

  Maria was sitting by Lady Dax and Tamar, laughing, when she saw Michael Hanson enter, bow to the company, and sit quietly by Miss Harker.

  “Woah, there!” exclaimed Mr. Gayle, Lord Underwood’s brother-in-law, peering in their direction. “I know that fellow, don’t I?”

  “Mr. Hanson?” Maria said, turning toward him.

  “That’s the name! We were at school together.” Mr. Gayle strolled across the room and said something amiable. Hanson may or may not have been surprised, or even pleased, but he rose to shake hands and clearly tried to include Miss Harker in the conversation.

  A moment later, Gayle’s voice rang out again with a hint of smugness. “I’m a member of parliament, old boy, which is quite funny, when you consider it. Wasn’t that your ambition?”

  The tone of Hanson’s reply sounded faintly congratulatory, but Maria could not make out the words.

  Shortly afterward, Eleanor then led the way into dinner. Maria, who had been partnered with Lord Underwood, heard Gayle say to him. “What a surprise to discover Hanson here. He must have been three years below me at school, but I give you my word, cleverest fellow I ever met! Bit of a come down though to be pushing a pen for Braithwaite.”

  “It’s gainful employment, Edward,” Underwood drawled, which made Maria think rather better of him. “One might even consider it an honor.”

  “Mind you,” Gayle added in a considering tone of voice, “he was a bit of a damned Jacobin by the time I left. Wonder if Braithwaite knows?”

  “I’m sure you will enlighten him,” Underwood said smoothly. “What a delightful dining room. Has it always looked like this, Lady Maria?”

  “Sort of. Eleanor—my sister-in-law—had it painted in lighter colors, which makes it rather less oppressive, I think…”

  Seated between Lord Underwood and Lord Daxton, Maria found no shortage of conversation during dinner. Both men were amusing in their own way, though Maria rather preferred Daxton’s natural exuberance to Underwood’s sardonic world-weariness, which grew rather tedious.

  Until Underwood murmured, “Do I understand correctly that I am to wish you happy?”

  Maria blinked. “You may, of course, wish me as happy as you like, but if you mean it in the sense of marriage, you understand quite incorrectly!”

  His gaze rested unblinkingly on hers. “I am relieved to hear it. The rumor is that Beauchamp snapped you up.”

  She lowered her eyes to prevent the flash of anger. “I cannot be snapped. Nor can I imagine where such a silly rumor came from.”

  “Why, neither can I, though it’s true Mrs. Davenly was also at Wickenden. Or perhaps it was merely Beauchamp’s own wishful thinking. Is he to be one of the guests at the castle?”

  “I have no idea,” Maria said. “You would need to ask Eleanor to be quite sure.”

  Underwood’s eyes focused on her with more clarity. He looked faintly surprised. “Are you giving me a set-down, Lady Maria? You are quite right, of course. It is not my concern who is and isn’t invited to Lady Braithwaite’s ball. I merely dislike to see gazetted fortune hunters fluttering about you.”

  “Then we do have one thing in common.”

  “Only one?” he teased, then blinked. “Was that another set-down? Lady Maria, you are growing claws. I shall have to take more care.”

  He seemed more amused than offended, but since she had begun with frankness, she saw no reason not to continue it.

  “I have always had claws. They are merely retracted in public. Mostly,” she added in the interests of honesty.

  Lazy laughter entered his eyes and behind that, a new interest. Now that she no longer wished his admiration, she seemed to have gained rather more of his attention, which was hardly what she had intended.

  “Why, there appear to be hidden depths to my young and perfect lady.”

  “I shall not be young forever, and I have never been perfect. As to hidden depths, I’m sure we all have those.”

  “Even me?”

  “I hardly know you well enough to say.”

  She never found out what he would have answered, for Serena on his other side attracted his attention, and he turned to her with a word of apology to Maria.

  When the gentlemen rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, Maria was quite disappointed to see that Mr. Hanson was not with them. At her mother’s bidding, she played and sang one song for the company, then gave up the pianoforte to Serena and Frances who performed a comic duet so effectively that even Mama
was smiling.

  However, since the morrow was the day of the spring ball, everyone meant to retire early and rise late. Maria slipped away to go her little sisters, whom she had hardly seen that day. She meant to take the west staircase to the nursery, but as she passed the library, familiar laughter rang out from inside.

  She stuck her head around the door, and there indeed were Alice and Helen, sitting on the library floor with Mr. Hanson, showing him Helen’s sketches.

  Catching sight of her, he rose easily to his feet, as though quite used to such unconventional positions.

  “Maria! You’ve escaped!” Helen greeted her. “Michael says I could sell some of these.”

  “You could get Tamar to sign them and sell them in London for you,” Maria suggested. “You would make a fortune.”

  Helen regarded her portrait sketches and watercolors. “They’re not really Tamar’s style, and I don’t think he would like to own to them.” She frowned. “Actually, I don’t think I would like him to, either. They’re mine.”

  “They are.” Maria glanced at her youngest sister. “You do know you don’t need money? Gervaise will give you a generous allowance when you come out. And you will have a decent fortune of your own when you marry.”

  “Yes, but that’s ages away. Alice and I want to travel, so Alice can play music abroad and no one will know who she is.”

  Maria closed her startled mouth, her eyes flying from her determined-looking little sisters to the enigmatic Hanson.

  He spread his hands in innocence. “They have only just told me their plans.”

  “Once Bonaparte is beaten, of course,” Alice said.

  “Of course,” Maria said faintly. “Um…don’t go without telling me, will you? In fact, don’t go without me!”

  The girls both beamed at her. “Oh, will you come, too? That will be much better!”

  “Perhaps Serena and Tamar?” Maria suggested.

  “They might not let Alice play,” Helen objected. “Serena might tell Mama. Or Gervaise.”

  “No, she wouldn’t!” Maria said, almost shocked. “Anyway, since you’re not leaving tomorrow, you should go to bed now, for everyone else is about to retire.”

  The girls immediately grabbed up the drawings and fled.

  About to follow them, Maria glanced at Hanson. “I hope they didn’t disturb you?”

  “Only in a pleasant way.”

  “You work too much in any case.”

  “I shall pass on your opinion to his lordship. Although honesty compels me to admit I was not actually working, merely writing letters.”

  “To your betrothed?” she asked.

  He nodded, walking back toward his usual table.

  “Does she think as you do?” Maria asked curiously. “About radical politics?”

  “Oh yes. If anything, she is more ardent on the issues than I.”

  “Then you will not object to your wife’s having political opinions?”

  “I would be more appalled if she had none. I don’t know why people would deliberately bring girls up in ignorance.”

  “Oh, we are not ignorant,” Maria told him. “We are taught many facts. We are just not encouraged to think about them or talk about them! Except by Miss Grey,” she amended.

  “I would like to meet the redoubtable Miss Grey.”

  “Well you will. She is now Mrs. Benedict and will be at the ball tomorrow evening. Thank you for being kind to my sisters.”

  “There was no kindness involved. They remind me of my own siblings.”

  “Do you miss them?”

  “Not usually. They live quite close to London, so I see them frequently.”

  “Do you live there, then, when you are in London?”

  “No, I have my own rooms. Room,” he amended with a faint, deprecating smile.

  “There must be space at Braithwaite House,” Maria said frowning. “Your rooms would be better, and it would save you rent,”

  “I prefer to keep some independence,” he said coolly, so coolly that she perceived she had overstepped the mark—of propriety apart from anything else. His domestic arrangements were hardly her concern.

  “Of course you do. Good night, Mr. Hanson!”

  *

  When she had gone, Michael gazed after her, frowning. He hadn’t meant to offend her, but suspected he had with his foolish pride. Although he was a great believer in equality and saw no reason to treat someone with more deference simply because of their title, he was also a realist. Because of the actual difference in their stations, any friendship between himself and Lady Maria was fraught with pitfalls. They could give or take offence without intention on either side, which was hardly good for her troubled state, or his own peace of mind.

  She had been here little more than a day and already she was occupying far too much of his mind. He went back to his desk and picked up the half-finished letter to Judith. She and her married sister, Gillian, were visiting in Manchester, which made a meeting between them in the next week or so more possible. However, Judith was adamant she would not come to Blackhaven. To persuade her of the family’s amiability, he had told her a little about the earl’s sisters, although she would not understand. She would not approve of the younger girls’ talents for music and art. She would imagine the others frivolous and useless.

  He smiled ruefully as he put out the lamps and candles, save the one to light his way to bed.

  Despite the fact that he had few tasks left to carry out for the earl, and had even been encouraged to sleep late, Michael woke at his usual time on the day of the ball. Since the morning was fair and the castle quiet, he was drawn outdoors for a brisk walk after a lonely breakfast.

  He didn’t expect to encounter any of the castle people, and he didn’t for most of the way. Only as he turned his footsteps back toward the castle, did he see the lady almost running across the rough ground that divided the earl’s fields from the cliffs.

  He started toward her from instinct, because he thought there was something wrong. But then he heard her voice and realized she was chatting away to the dog that ran at her heels. He couldn’t help smiling to himself, for like this, without her cares, she was even more delightful.

  He slowed to let her pass on without seeing him, but the dog caught his scent and bounded around her to give him a warning glare. Inevitably, she glanced where the dog did, and laughed with only a hint of embarrassment.

  “Oh dear, now you will know I am insane!”

  “Not at all. There is great value in doting friends who never argue or answer back.” He kept his same, slow pace, giving her opportunity to hurry ahead alone if she wished, but she merely waited for him to catch up.

  “There is,” she agreed. “And Dasher is a great listener. He came into the world hearing my voice, and I like to think he remembers. He always seems pleased to see me, at any rate.”

  Dasher, soothed by the friendliness in Maria’s tone, deigned to sniff Michael’s hand and then happily ignored him.

  They spoke mostly of impersonal things on the way back to the castle, of the harsh beauty of the countryside and the reflections in the sea. The country people encountered on the way, tugged their forelocks and bobbed curtseys to Lady Maria, smiling as they did so, without fear or resentment. It gave him a different view of the dependence of the ordinary folk on their lord. It may not have been right in Michael’s grand scheme, but it could, clearly, be benevolent. Besides, they must have known her since she was a child, and she seemed to bring sunshine into their lives. As she did into his.

  He remained curious how she had done this in such a short time. But he liked walking at her side, talking of nothing and yet learning her character, watching the expressions flit across her vivid countenance. He liked to make her laugh, took pleasure in her ready humor.

  He was almost disappointed as they arrived back at the castle and Dasher was given over to the kennel man’s care. It did enter his head that Paton and the house servants might disapprove of his arriving in Lady Maria’
s company, and yet it somehow seemed too demeaning to abandon her merely to stop tongues wagging about an entirely innocent meeting.

  However, Maria solved this problem by entering the castle through a side door in the old part of the building.

  “Serena and Tamar live here,” she informed him, pointing up an old staircase. “Or at least they do when they stay here.” She turned the other way through reception rooms which had been opened up and decorated for the night’s ball with many unlit candles in chandeliers. She pointed through the second room, towards its other, open door. “You’ll know the Great Hall is through there—where the ball is held.”

  There was clearly a great deal of activity going on, but they passed it by. Only as they emerged into the entrance hall, did a scuttling maid thrust a letter into Maria’s hand.

  “For you, m’lady,” she said in a flustered kind of way and rushed on in the direction of the ballroom.

  “Thank you,” Maria said, faintly amused. “I’m afraid it will be like this until teatime, when all our overnight guests should have arrived. From then on, there will be more order than chaos, just an increasing number of people in time for dinner, and then the ball itself. You will be there, won’t you?”

  They were climbing the grand staircase by then.

  “Yes, my presence is commanded,” he said lightly.

  “What a pity your betrothed cannot be here, too.”

  Michael had a vision of her disapproving face among the gaiety, her stony glare at her extravagant hosts and almost laughed. “She would not be comfortable at such a gathering,” he said hastily.

  Maria frowned. “But you are?”

  He hesitated. “Up to a point. It does not overwhelm me.”

  “Why should it?” she agreed. “You are an educated gentleman, used to the company of people like the Gayles.”

  Before he could help it, his lip curled. “I shall never get used to the company of men like Edward Gayle.”

  “You are not friends?” she asked in clear surprise.

  “We are not enemies,” he said hastily. “Merely, we do not move in the same circles.”