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Authors: Helen Dickson
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means you are ideally placed to go to there and search out the truth. We need hard evidence that Jamie is dead.’
Leaning his head against the back of his chair, Harry closed his eyes and drew a long, deep breath. Spain! He didn’t want to go back. Reminders of that time evoked painful, personal memories he preferred not to recall. And now Ross was asking him to go back.
‘You are right, Ross. I must return. If this woman’s claim cannot be disproved, then her son is heir. It could be devastating to the whole Montague dynasty. Dear Lord, Ross, how has it come to this? As youths we lived like princes, champagne was drunk as though it were water and guests invited to Castonbury Park to partake of the Montague’s hospitality were open-mouthed at the liberality and display. We hunted with the best of the county, the stables filled with expensive hunters, the kennels full of hounds—the hunt servants, the display of wealth. How is it possible that it’s in danger of disappearing? It cannot happen. We cannot let it happen. We have to stop it.’
Ross knew that Harry would do everything within his power to seek out the truth. The Montagues’ attitude to family was possessive and protective. They were a warrior clan defending what was theirs at all costs, their instinct being to hold on to what they had won. ‘What are your chances, Harry?’
Harry’s eyes narrowed into a slight frown and his features took on a pensive expression. ‘The answer is that I don’t know.’ His tone implied the chances were not extremely good, but then he had contacts in Spain who might be able to help him so it was not entirely hopeless. ‘But to find out what really happened to my brother is a mission I am duty-bound to undertake—and to find out what I can about this woman and if her claim is genuine. Leave it with me. I’ll make arrangements to leave for Spain. Unfortunately I have commitments to fulfil regarding my work here in London so I am unable to leave right away. I’ll write to Giles at Castonbury informing him when I can depart and again as soon as I have anything to report.’
* * *
Although Lisette had learned to contend with the varying moods and whims of Lottie Arbuthnot, this, she feared, was a different environment and a different mistress entirely. She had complete care of Miss Araminta’s wardrobe and it was her duty to clean and repair any garment that needed it. She attended her toilet and arranged her hair—a task Lisette was taught by the maid who had attended Araminta before Lisette took up her position.
Her young mistress was a leading belle of the ton , and to Lisette’s despair she was unpredictable and problematical. But she was also warm and open and there was something about her that Lisette liked.
She had completed her first week and was arranging Miss Araminta’s hair when there was a knock on the door. Meeting Lisette’s eyes in the mirror, Araminta gave her a knowing smile.
‘That will be Ross—impatient as ever.’ She bade him enter.
Contrary to Araminta’s comment, Ross sauntered in and made himself comfortable in a chair facing his sister. He’d made it a practice to visit her in her room each day, and although he kept his visits brief, he found himself nevertheless looking forward to them because it gave him the opportunity to see Miss Napier. Out of uniform, Colonel Montague was the very epitome of an elegant gentleman. With his dark hair brushed back and shining, he was the image of relaxed elegance in his black and white evening clothes and one well-shod foot propped casually atop the opposite knee.
‘I thought I’d come and see what’s keeping you, Araminta. We’re expected at the Bosworths’ in half an hour.’
‘I know, and I’m sorry, Ross. As soon as Lisette has finished arranging my hair I’ll be ready.’
‘I’m sure they’ll understand if we’re a bit late,’ he said, content to sit and observe the delectable Miss Napier put the finishing touches to his
Leaning his head against the back of his chair, Harry closed his eyes and drew a long, deep breath. Spain! He didn’t want to go back. Reminders of that time evoked painful, personal memories he preferred not to recall. And now Ross was asking him to go back.
‘You are right, Ross. I must return. If this woman’s claim cannot be disproved, then her son is heir. It could be devastating to the whole Montague dynasty. Dear Lord, Ross, how has it come to this? As youths we lived like princes, champagne was drunk as though it were water and guests invited to Castonbury Park to partake of the Montague’s hospitality were open-mouthed at the liberality and display. We hunted with the best of the county, the stables filled with expensive hunters, the kennels full of hounds—the hunt servants, the display of wealth. How is it possible that it’s in danger of disappearing? It cannot happen. We cannot let it happen. We have to stop it.’
Ross knew that Harry would do everything within his power to seek out the truth. The Montagues’ attitude to family was possessive and protective. They were a warrior clan defending what was theirs at all costs, their instinct being to hold on to what they had won. ‘What are your chances, Harry?’
Harry’s eyes narrowed into a slight frown and his features took on a pensive expression. ‘The answer is that I don’t know.’ His tone implied the chances were not extremely good, but then he had contacts in Spain who might be able to help him so it was not entirely hopeless. ‘But to find out what really happened to my brother is a mission I am duty-bound to undertake—and to find out what I can about this woman and if her claim is genuine. Leave it with me. I’ll make arrangements to leave for Spain. Unfortunately I have commitments to fulfil regarding my work here in London so I am unable to leave right away. I’ll write to Giles at Castonbury informing him when I can depart and again as soon as I have anything to report.’
* * *
Although Lisette had learned to contend with the varying moods and whims of Lottie Arbuthnot, this, she feared, was a different environment and a different mistress entirely. She had complete care of Miss Araminta’s wardrobe and it was her duty to clean and repair any garment that needed it. She attended her toilet and arranged her hair—a task Lisette was taught by the maid who had attended Araminta before Lisette took up her position.
Her young mistress was a leading belle of the ton , and to Lisette’s despair she was unpredictable and problematical. But she was also warm and open and there was something about her that Lisette liked.
She had completed her first week and was arranging Miss Araminta’s hair when there was a knock on the door. Meeting Lisette’s eyes in the mirror, Araminta gave her a knowing smile.
‘That will be Ross—impatient as ever.’ She bade him enter.
Contrary to Araminta’s comment, Ross sauntered in and made himself comfortable in a chair facing his sister. He’d made it a practice to visit her in her room each day, and although he kept his visits brief, he found himself nevertheless looking forward to them because it gave him the opportunity to see Miss Napier. Out of uniform, Colonel Montague was the very epitome of an elegant gentleman. With his dark hair brushed back and shining, he was the image of relaxed elegance in his black and white evening clothes and one well-shod foot propped casually atop the opposite knee.
‘I thought I’d come and see what’s keeping you, Araminta. We’re expected at the Bosworths’ in half an hour.’
‘I know, and I’m sorry, Ross. As soon as Lisette has finished arranging my hair I’ll be ready.’
‘I’m sure they’ll understand if we’re a bit late,’ he said, content to sit and observe the delectable Miss Napier put the finishing touches to his
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