Captain Jack Vespa discovers that the man whom he had thought was his father had been an imposter, a fortune-hunting villain, and embarks on a quest to find his true father
The Riddle of the Lost Lover
By Patricia VeryanKensington Publishing Corporation
Copyright © 2000 Patricia Veryan
All right reserved.ISBN: 9780821764619
Chapter One
London
Disgusting!" Jerking aside the heavy draperies that shieldedher drawing-room windows, Mrs. Fortram scowled downinto the rainy darkness and said in her elderly and irritable voice,"Here's another of 'em rattling up the street to shatter our quiet!Look at 'em, Hubert! Confounded idiots! There ought to be a lawagainst routs and balls and musicales and falderals being carriedon in this peaceful and refined neighbourhood!"
"Mmm," said her son, savouring another sip of his port.
For all her apparent frailty, Gertrude Fortram was not easilydiverted from a Cause. Choosing to forget the many occasions onwhich her own parties and balls had disrupted the neighbourhoodpeace, she went on fiercely, "Cluttering up the streets at allhours of the night! Keeping honest folk from their rest! You'dthink people could find better ways to amuse themselves than toput on clothes that belong more to midsummer than a cold wintrynight, and drive halfway across Town to answer the summonsof Esther Wolff, as if she were one of the almighty ton leaders!Which she is not, and so I've told her!"
Receiving only a sympathetic grunt in reply, the old lady continued,"It's not as if we were at the height of the Season. I'dthought London thin of company, in point of fact, but--Heavens!If ever I saw such a crush! Much good those special constablesdo! Lud, only look at how the carriages are obliged to wait inline! One might suppose Wellington himself was among theguests!"
Mr. Fortram settled his portly self more comfortably in hisdeep chair, stretched his slippered feet closer to the warm hearth,and turned the page of The Times. "In that case I would have acceptedthe invitation, Mama," he murmured, drowsily content. "Ican only be glad that--"
He glanced up, startled, as his words were cut off by a shriek.
"That wretched cat!" shrilled his mother. "The fur willfly now!"
His curiosity aroused at last, Hubert puffed and huffed, extricatedhimself from the chair and crossed to the window. "Who?Oh, Gad! The Hersh dragon! I thought she was in Bath."
"As she should be at this time of year. And-- Look there! LucindaCarden, and on Ted Ridgley's arm! Who's next? Ah, thathorrid Phineas Bodwin escorting... I cannot recognize her, butshe looks a trollop, which surprises me not at all."
"Gathering of the gabble-mongers," sneered Hubert. "I wonderwhom they mean to flay tonight."
"Sir Kendrick Vespa, of course!"
Shocked, he protested, "Jupiter, ma'am! They can't flay poorSir Kendrick. Dead, y'know."
"No, I don't know! Nobody knows for sure. And his son's notgone into mourning, I heard."
"What, is Jack Vespa in Town, again? Gad, but that was a fastrecover. Last word I had was that he was at death's door."
Mrs. Fortram turned her attention from the window and eyedher son with rare interest. "Well, he's not there now, and I'm gladof it, for I like the boy. What else have you heard? The gabsterswho usually know everything are suddenly like so many stuffedowls. Why all the secrecy?"
"Be dashed if I know. Paige Manderville was in White's yesterday,and all he'd say was that Jack and Sir Kendrick surprisedsome rogues hiding in an old quarry on Jack's Dorsetshire property,and--"
"And that Captain Jack was shot down and his father pushedinto some sort of underground flood. Outrageous! Despicable!Dastardly! But that was weeks ago, and despite all the flurry atBow Street and Whitehall, with Runners and Special Constablesand dragoons galloping about hither and yon, what have they accomplished?Have the culprits been arrested? No! What mischiefwere they about down in that old quarry? No one knows--or willadmit to knowing! Why is Bow Street mum, and the newspapersscarce mention the business? That's what I'd like to know!"
"As would we all, ma'am. It's a regular mystery, especiallywhen you consider that Sir Kendrick Vespa is--was a distinguisheddiplomatist."
"True." Mrs. Fortram restored her attention to the window."The thing is, they haven't found his body yet. Might never findit. Which will leave his surviving son properly in the suds, eh?"
"Mmm." Putting up his quizzing glass, Mr. Fortram admiredthe points of a fine chestnut team now pulling up before the greathouse across the street, and murmured absently, "I wonder if hispoor mama knows of her bereavement."
"Poor mama, indeed! All Faith Vespa ever did was whineabout Sir Kendrick's neglect of her. I doubt she'll grieve him,though she's missing a splendid opportunity to moan and wailand weep crocodile tears all over Town. I don't see how she couldknow of her widowhood, at all events. The silly widgeon ran offto some relations in South America, didn't she?"
Hubert pursed his lips and returned to his chair. "So theysay. I for one cannot blame her. All that scandal about her husband'slightskirts. Terrible embarrassment for the lady."
"Well, running away added grist to the gossip mills, whichshe'd know had she a particle of sense. Kendrick Vespa was toohandsome, and that's always a danger. But had Lady Faith handledhim properly... instead of which I'm of the opinion hercomplainings fairly drove the man to infidelity."
Again reaching for The Times, Hubert murmured, "Now wedon't know that for sure, Mama. And the Vespas, after all, rankamong our most ancient and respected Houses."
"The more reason for Sir Kendrick to have guarded his nameagainst scandal! It's downright shocking that a fine old familycould be thriving one day, and destroyed the next. That's whatcomes of--Look! Only look! The Ottavio woman! I haven't seenher for--Doesn't she live in Dorsetshire? I'll warrant she knowswhat went on down at Alabaster Regis--or whatever it's called."
Joining his parent once more, Hubert put up his quizzingglass. "You're right, by Jove! I remember the little lady. French,ain't she? A duchess or some such thing."
"Italian. She claims to be the duchess of Ottavio, but her husbanddied just before inheriting the title, and she is no more aduchess than am I! Whatever can have brought her back intoTown, I wonder? Well, that bears off the palm! Lord, are youlumping back into your chair again? Come, Hubert! Up! Up!Rouse your lazy self! No use looking so hardly done by. Thewhole town's talking and with the gathering of gabblers acrossthe way there's not a doubt in the world but that Sir Kendrick'sescapades with the Stokely hussy will be the prime topic. I don'tmean to miss it, and so I warn you! Change your dress. I'll beready in haft an hour!"
"But--mama," wailed Hubert. "You said you didn't want to goout tonight. It's raining! And besides, you declined the invitation."
"Well now I'm accepting! Half an hour, Hubert! Stir yourstumps!"
***
Mr. Gaylord Wolff had instructed his architect to design a ballroomin the Grecian style, and the results of that talented gentleman'sefforts were much admired in London Town. Despitethe cold air outside and the abundance of marble inside, the impressiveroom was crowded and very warm, and when a quadrilleended many of the guests made their way to the cooler dining andreception rooms where an elegant supper was spread on long tables.Laden trays were borne off to adjacent ante-rooms whosesmaller tables, chairs and sofas filled rapidly. The air hummedwith polite chatter, aristocratic faces were variously sad or titillated,and on every tongue it seemed was the one name--Vespa.
Seldom had the ton enjoyed a more delicious scandal. SirKendrick Vespa had long been known to have a mistress in keeping,in addition to other ladies believed to have enjoyed his protectionfrom time to time. What had not been known was that themuch admired gentleman had lately enjoyed a secret affaire decoeur with Mrs. Esmeralda Stokely. The widow was lovely, butshe was young enough to be his daughter, and, worse, had beenon the brink of marrying his eldest son prior to the young soldier'stragic death in battle.
Mrs. Fortram and Hubert, having made their way to the supperrooms, gathered plates of delicacies and drifted unobtrusivelyfrom one group to another, their eagerly stretched ears gatheringa choice harvest of gossip.
"... and not to speak ill of the dead, my dear Lady Vera, butto think that lovely man could have been so devious!"
"... poor Mrs. Omberleigh. She was never good ton, ofcourse, but my heart bleeds for her."
"What did she expect? The Omberleigh was his mistress forten years at least, and few gentlemen keep a fancy piece for thatlong. My sympathies are with..."
"... poor Lady Vespa! She knew about the Omberleighwoman, of course, but to then discover the others! My dear!And now..."
"... is it truth that The Stokely was betrothed to his own son?If ever I heard of so shocking..."
"... and that he was involved with the Widow Stokely evenwhile poor Sherborne was still alive! Can you credit..."
Having at this point reached an especially fruitful source,Mrs. Fortram drew Hubert to a halt close to one of the sofas setabout the fringes of the dining room.
Mrs. Anne Hersh, seated beside her friend Lady Grey, arrangedher sharp features into what she supposed to be a look ofpiety and said with a sigh as deep as it was insincere, "Now CaptainJohn Vespa is the one I sympathize with. First his brother,and now his father gone, and his mama flaunting off to the otherside of the world!"
Not to be outdone, Lady Grey moaned softly. "How alone hemust feel, poor boy. And there is no bride in the offing, as I recall."
"If there were, you would surely know of it! You always are sowell-informed!"
Lady Grey smiled patronizingly. "Thank you, my love. Onedoes not care to gossip, you understand. But when one is wellacquainted-well, how can one refrain from... hearing things?"
"Exactly! So now, do tell me, whatever do you think of thislatest ghastly on-dit?"
Her ladyship, who had been in the midlands visiting hermama-in-law, knew of no `latest ghastly on-dit' and tried in vain tohide her chagrin.
Gertrude Fortram was also chagrined, for she could not quitecatch the whispered confidence when Mrs. Hersh spread thegood word.
Accustomed as she was to London's gossip mills, Lady Greyuttered a shocked squeal and dropped her fan. "Another one?"
"And a foreigner, no less! The hints are that she is very beautiful,in an exotic uncivilized sort of way. At least, that's what--"Mrs. Hersh stopped speaking, and turned around.
Mrs. Fortram returned Anne Hersh's haughty stare with anunrepentant display of brown teeth, then tugged imperatively onHubert's arm and they resumed their enlightening stroll.
The orchestra was striking up for a country dance and theguests started to drift towards the ballroom.
"What now, ma'am?" asked Hubert, as intrigued by what theyhad gleaned as was his mother.
"Over there," hissed Mrs. Fortram. "Manderville. If anyoneknows who was Kendrick Vespa's `other one,' that impudentyoung rascal does. Come on!"
"If he does know, he won't tell you," warned Hubert. "He'sone of Jack Vespa's best friends."
"Then we won't ask him, you flat," snarled his doting parent."Come--on!"
***
"It was the most horrid party I ever attended!" Miss ConsuelaCarlotta Angelica Jones twitched her cloak tighter about hersmall and shapely self and snuggled against the squabs of thecarriage. "I wonder the musicians even bothered to play; the onlyreason people came was to gabble and gossip and giggle aboutthe Vespas!" She was a little flushed, her blue eyes reflected herirritation and she pushed back a straying curl impatiently.
Seated opposite her, Paige Manderville reflected that althoughshe could not be judged a beauty, Miss Consuela Joneswas very pretty. Her disposition was sunny, her heart warm andher loyalties deep and unwavering. If she was also unconventionallyfrank, inclined to act on impulse (sometimes disastrously),and had a quick-flaring temper, those were qualities hefound charming, so that he envied Jack Vespa, who was in lovewith her, and to whom she was devoted. He said an amused, "Youlook like an irritated little pouter pigeon, m'dear. I'll own it's aswell Jack was not present this evening, but considering the partywas so `horrid,' you did not want for dance partners. Indeed, hadJack and your gallant Colonel both been present, they'd have hadsmall chance of writing their names on your dance card."
Even in the dim light thrown by the carriage lamps it wasclear that those who named Manderville one of London's mosthandsome bachelors were justified, but Miss Jones viewed hisdark good looks without rapture. "If by my `gallant Colonel' yourefer to Hastings Adair," she snapped, "you give me too muchcredit, Paige!"
"Since Toby and I are both lowly lieutenants and Jack a merecaptain, whom else should I--"
"Jack is not merely a captain, but was one of Lord Wellington'spersonal aides, which makes him very special indeed! Furthermore,how could he possibly attend a ball when he is--or is supposedto be--in mourning for his--his father. Horrid, wickedcreature that he was!"
The diminutive Francesca, self-styled `duchess of Ottavio,'who was the third occupant of the luxurious coach, yawned, anddemanded, "Well--and well? What have you expect, my meadowlark?Jack was shot, so people they sympathize. But now, he isrecovered, and does he go into blacks? He does not! Does he usethe title that is now legally his? No! Will he stay in the Vespa mansionin Town? No! Has he once set his feets into his great houseat Richmond? No again?
"You know why Jack refuses to use the title and the Vespaproperties," said Consuela defensively.
"Oh, si. I know. You know. Lieutenant Paige and TobiasBroderick, they know. But does the ton know?"
Manderville inserted quietly, "Can't very well tell 'em, can he,ma'am? Not without disgracing his mama."
"So what does your ton?" demanded the old lady. "It seethe.It revel! It is contissimo! Rumour, she spread her feathers and flylike--like the tempest about this old town! I will speak of thesilliness that I was hearing at this very silly ball. One--that SirKendrick Vespa is not killed in that quarry at all, but has run offto some secret paradise with his beautiful Indian lady. Two--thatLady Faith Vespa did not go out to South America to visit hercousins, but that Sir Kendrick strangled her. And, three--she isburied somewhere--"
"In the quarry at Alabaster Royal, no doubt," put in Mandervillederisively. "Which is what Jack and Sir Kendrick were occupiedwith down there when they were attacked. Burying thepoor lady."
"Exactly so."
Consuela gave a squeak of rage. "No! Surely, Nonna, theydid not say such things!"
"I heard much the same sort of slanderous nonsense,"drawled Manderville. "Only in even more lurid detail. Is it somuch worse than the truth?"
Consuela frowned broodingly at the window. "They don'tknow the truth. So they make up things!"
"They've learned enough to discover that Sir Kendrick Vespa,the pattern-card of a British diplomatist, was at the least a womanizingrascal. He has betrayed the Code. They won't soon forgivehim."
"Me," flared Consuela fiercely, "I shall never forgive him! Forwhat he did to my beloved Papa, and to Jack, who loved him, heshould have been taken and hanged by the neck till he was thoroughlydead! Dead without question! Nor need you pretend youdid not despise him as much as I."
"True," admitted Manderville. "I'd enjoy to have called outthe bas--er, to have had the gentleman in the sights of my pistol."
Lady Francesca said, "All of this it tells us nothing in the matters,saving that no one of us has learned anything of what ourCaptain Jack hopes to discover. I myself have try many carefulways. I did the giggle and gabble with the most spiteful of the toncats, and could learn nothing of the affaires of Lady Faith Vespa.That woman with the long nose, Gertrude Fortram, has learnthat we are the neighbours to Captain Jack's Dorset lands, so shecome and smile and coil around me like a dried-up serpent, as ifI am not awareness that she have much despise for me. And whymust you laugh so much, Lieutenant Paige? Have I perhaps lie inmy tooth?"
"Certainly not," said Manderville unsteadily. "But your expressions,dear ma'am, are so delicious. Do tell us if this--this`dried up serpent' of a lady was of any help at all."
Mollified, Lady Francesca said that Mrs. Fortram had been ofno use save to confide that in her younger days Lady Faith Vespawas believed to have had `some interesting liaisons.' She sighed."Which we already have know. But the naming of these `liaisons'gentlemen I cannot come at."
Manderville chuckled. "Phineas Bodwin managed to implythat he'd been Lady Faith's lover at one time."
"Pah!" said Consuela. "That one--he would say anything tobe interesting! Oh, but it is all so discouraging! We try and try,and learn nothing. I had so hoped we might have some news tocheer Jack!"
Lady Francesca squeezed her hand comfortingly. "So had weall, my little one. And we will do this, I know it."
"The problem is," said Manderville, "It's a--um, delicate matter.Begging your pardon, ladies, but one can't very well gosmack up to a likely prospect and say, `How de do? We've justfound out that Jack Vespa is a bastard. Might you be the fellowwho really fathered him?'"
Consuela's giggle was drowned by Lady Francesca's squealand her outraged declaration that Lieutenant Paige's languagewas `vulgar in the extreme!' She paused, and added, "But hespeaks truth. I have the fearing we must tread on the eggs and itwill be difficult."
"But not impossible," said Manderville. "And Jack's notdownhearted. Only this morning he told Toby and me that he hasevery confidence he'll come at the truth. And with all of us tohelp--how can we fail?"
Consuela pounced forward and to his huge delight and hergrandmother's pseudo-indignation, kissed him on the cheek."You are a dear and good friend, Lieutenant Beau Manderville!Thank you for that! So--what do we do next?"
"All I have to do," he said with a grin, "is think up more waysto win such lovely approval. No, seriously, Jack's likely with hisgreat-uncle this very minute. The old boy should know all abouthis mama's--er, peccadilloes."
Consuela said, "If he does find out something, Paige, you willcome to Claridges and tell us the very first thing in the morning,please?"
"If I do, will I get another kiss?"
"You are of an impudence," scolded Lady Francesca withoutheat. "But--si. You will win a kiss. From me, you rogue!"
He laughed. "Then I cannot fail!"
***
"Of course I knew your mother well, she was my niece, wasn'tshe? Watched the pretty creature from the moment she left theschoolroom. One of the most sought-after young damsels in all ofLondon Town, she was."
Sir Reginald Wansdyke refilled the two wine glasses and triednot to betray his impatience. He had always been noted more forhis brusque and vigorous ways than for tact. His thick hair wasgrey now, but at five and sixty his complexion was bronzed, hisback straight, and his shoulders as broad and unbowed as manya man twenty years his junior. He'd had a difficult day at the Exchange,a tiresome confrontation with his youngest granddaughterand the totally ineligible young rascal she wanted towed, and a pleasant sojourn at his club had been spoiled by thearrival of Monsieur Imre Monteil. He'd never liked the Swiss,but not because of the man's jet black hair and eyes and `pastry-whiteskin,' as Lady Wansdyke described it. In his opinion appearancesseldom counted for much. But Monteil was known tohave made his fortune in munitions, and his obvious gloatingover this drawn-out war with France was repellent, especially inview of the appalling casualties. He himself had lost Sherborne,one of his favourite grand-nephews, to the terrible third siege ofBadajoz; and John had been so badly mangled at Vitoria that theymight count themselves fortunate he had survived.
The reminder softened Sir Reginald's irritation that theyoung man had insisted upon awaiting his return instead of postponinghis call until tomorrow. He went back to the leather chairin the panelled and pleasantly cluttered room that was his studyand looked speculatively across the hearth at his grand-nephew.
John Wansdyke Vespa had inherited neither the impressiveheight nor the dramatically dark colouring that had so distinguishedhis father and brother. Indeed, he'd been quite cast intothe shade by the handsome Sherborne. Of the brothers, Johnhad been the athlete, and Sherry the dashing Town Beau. Nomore athletics for John, sad to say. Still, he looked better thanwhen he'd first been brought home after the Battle of Vitoria,and no one could say he was plain. His hair might be an undistinguishedlight brown, but it had a tendency to curl that LadyWansdyke said was very attractive. And if the eyes, which she declaredto be `tawny' rather than hazel, lacked the sparkling jetthat had made Sherborne's eyes so striking, they were clear andsteady and could be warmed charmingly by a lurking smile. Hisfeatures lacked the delicate carving that blessed most of the Vespas,but the mouth was firm and the chin strong. The scar downhis left temple was less noticeable already, and his limp not as obvious.All in all, a fine-looking young fellow, thought Sir Reginald.And he'd certainly distinguished himself on the Peninsula.
Still, it was odd that having called at such an hour he seemedto want to discuss not the recent tragedy that had robbed him ofhis sire, but the early life of his mother. It was puzzling also thatJohn, who had worshipped Sir Kendrick, had not yet gone intoblacks. Very likely, Sir Reginald told himself, it was all too muchfor the poor lad. Perhaps he was trying to work his way aroundto speaking of the tragedy. Whatever the case, he was entitled tobe handled gently. It was in a compassionate tone, therefore, thathe said, "I presume you've notified my niece of your father's--er,death. Have you heard from her since she sailed?"
Jack Vespa had been quite aware of and faintly amused by hisgreat-uncle's intense scrutiny, and could guess what had gonethrough the mind of this honest and upright gentleman. He knewthat there had been no love lost between the Vespa and Wansdykebranches of the family, but he was also aware of Sir ReginaldWansdyke's fierce pride, and he replied cautiously, "I wish I had,sir. There are business affairs to be settled, and other matters onwhich I have a most urgent need to consult with her."
`So that's it,' thought Sir Reginald. Slightly disappointed, hesaid, "If it's a matter of your inheritance, I can likely advise you."
"I have a generous inheritance from Grandfather Wansdyke,sir. And Alabaster Royal."
`That dismal hole!' thought Sir Reginald. "True. But in viewof--er, everything, I expect you won't want to continue livingdown there. You've the Richmond property, and the Londonhouse is entailed. Certainly the title will come to you, once--er,that is to say, after--In due time."
Vespa nerved himself and took the plunge. "Then you thinkI've a fight to them, sir?"
Sir Reginald gave him a sharp look. "Why the deuce wouldyou not have a right to them? John--I know this quarry businessmust have been a frightful experience, and I'd not distressyou by referring to it, but--are you of the opinion that your fatheris still alive?"
"I don't know. That's why I asked about my mother. I'm agrown man, sir, and not blind. I'm aware my parents' marriagewas not happy."
"Hmm," grunted Sir Reginald, uneasily. "I think it is not forme to comment on such matters. You must talk to your mama,though I'd have thought this was scarce the time to rake over oldcoals."
"Nor can I do so, since my mother is now in South America."
Lady Faith's flight from the gossip mill was a sore topic withher conservatively minded uncle, and he growled, "Worst thingshe could have done! Kendrick had his faults, no denying, butrunning away don't solve anything." He caught himself up andsaid testily, "The thing to do, my boy, is to put it all behind you.Your health is much improved already. You can stay peacefully inthat lovely house on the river till your mama comes home again,and if you're in need of the `ready' meanwhile, I'm very sure yourfather's man of business--Skelton, or some such name as I recall--canoblige you."
"Felton, sir. But--"
"No `buts,' dear lad. If there's any difficulty along those lines,you just let me know, and we'll come at the root of it."
"Well, there is a problem, Uncle. It concerns something SirKendrick told me just before--" Vespa paused, one hand clenching."Before the tunnel--business. It has to do with the earlydays of their marriage and a friend of my mother's."
"Hmm. I didn't know all Faith's friends, of course. Still don't.Rather a silly lot of females, if you was to ask me."
"This was a gentleman, sir."
"A gentleman?" Sir Reginald's smile faded. "Now what thedevil could your mother's friends, be they male or female, have todo with your drawing against your inheritance?"
"A great deal, sir. In fact, according to Sir Kendrick, anyVespa inheritance is not--mine."
Sir Reginald's face turned very red. Staring at his grandnephewhe demanded hoarsely, "What a'God's name are you babblingat, boy? Your father was mighty high-in-the-instep, but--"
"Was he, sir? That's what I'm trying to find out, you see. Didyou know him?"
"What the deuce...? Of course I knew him!" Sir Reginaldstood and faced the younger man in consternation. "My poorfellow! You're ill! It's that head wound you took at Vitoria, Idon't doubt. You shall overnight here. Tomorrow, I'll refreshyour memory about your father. You may ask whatever youwish, and--"
Standing also, Vespa said gently, "I have only one question,Uncle Reginald. Who is my father?"
Sir Reginald drew a deep breath and fought his temper."Now--now, John, I can see you are not yourself. But this is allvery... improper. If someone has been filling your head with rubbish,I wish you will name the lamebrain."
"Do you know, Uncle, I wish with all my heart that I could believeit was rubbish. Unhappily, I have no choice but to think hetold me the absolute truth."
"Who--who did?" gulped Sir Reginald.
"Sir Kendrick Vespa."
"WHAT? Your--your own father?"
Vespa gave a wry shrug. "Evidently not. Sir Kendrick saidthat years ago, when my mother discovered he had set up a mistress,she took a lover to spite him. And that I'm the--the resultof her... affaire."
His face purpling, Sir Reginald snorted, "If ever-- If ever Iheard of such disgraceful twaddle! I can't credit it that--that evenKendrick Vespa would--would have deliberately said such awicked thing! Be so good as to tell me, nephew--when did hekindly impart all this claptrap?"
"While we were down in the tunnel at the old quarry, sir."
"Indeed. This would have been before you were shot, then."
"Yes, sir. Just before he shot me."
Sir Reginald dropped his glass.
***
"You may believe I am upset!" Pacing to and fro at the foot of hiswife's bed, Sir Reginald flung one arm in the air to emphasize hisvexation and declared untruthfully, "I'm sorry if I woke you,m'dear. Your candles were still burning, so I thought--"
"Yes. I was reading." Lady Paula drew her bed-jacket closerabout her ample figure and sat higher against the pillows. "Johnis adept at concealing his feelings, but I sensed he was troubled,so I waited up for you."
Sir Reginald gave an explosive snort. 'Troubled, you say? Heain't troubled, my lady! What he is--he's daft! Ripe for Bedlam!I vow if he weren't family, I'd have called in the Runners and hadhim taken away under strong restraint!"
"Good gracious! Now, my love, I trust you have consideredthat John is bound to be distressed at this time, and we should--Oh,pray do not stamp up and down, you'll wake the house. Havea glass of wine, it will settle your nerves."
Muttering ferociously, Sir Reginald did not argue with thissensible suggestion, but filled a glass from the decanter that wasalways left on the sideboard for him. He sat on the dressing-tablebench and sipped the port, only to spring up again and say explosively,"When I think what a fine fellow he was before he wentoff to Spain! And now--whatever wits the poor lad has left are sofull of maggots--"
"Yes, yes, Reginald, but you're spilling your wine. Sit here onthe bed, dear, and try to compose yourself." Her spouse obeyingwith marked reluctance, she asked gently, "Whatever has Johndone to so discompose you?"
"Gone stark, raving mad," growled her husband not mincingwords. "Have I not said it? The first looby in the family! Egad! I tellyou, my lady, if that boy goes about London Town spreading thebalderdash he hurled in my face tonight, our name will be--willbe so tarnished we're like to never make a recover!"
This declaration alarmed Lady Paula. She said uneasily, "If itis balderdash, dear sir, how shall it tarnish us?"
Sir Reginald ran a hand through his already wildly dishevelledgrey locks and groaned. "It's all so damned ridiculous. Butwith the rumours that are abroad..." His thick eyebrows bristled.He snarled, "Confound it! I always knew Kendrick Vespa wasa potentially dirty dish!"
"Aha," said his patient lady. "So poor Sir Kendrick is at theroot of the problem. I wonder why that does not surprise me.Now, my love, I beg you to tell me. From the beginning."
Her life's companion snorted and fumed, but in rather erraticfashion did as she asked. He was interrupted several times by hershocked gasps, and by the time he finished she had become verypale. When she did not comment, he demanded, "Did ever youhear so much fustian? Nobody will believe the stupid tale!"
His wife said nothing.
Sir Reginald watched her from the corners of his eyes. "Yousurely do not, Paula?"
By now very frightened, she evaded in a trembling voice, "SirKendrick was involved in some wicked plot connected with AlabasterRoyal, and Jack found out about it?"
"That's what the boy claims, yes."
"Did he give you any information about the plot?"
"Your grand-nephew was not at liberty, he said, to go into details.Convenient, eh?"
"Did he imply then--that the authorities are handling thematter?"
"He mentioned-- Dammitall! He says he's under--under orders!"
"The--Horse Guards? Oh, my heavens!"
"And--don't fly into the boughs--Wellington!"
Lady Paula appropriated her husband's glass and took ahealthy swallow. She spluttered and coughed, but managed tosay breathlessly, "I want you to be... honest with me, Reginald.If there is... any chance of this dreadful business being...published... in the newspapers... I must be prepared."
"Have I not said that it's all so much poppycock? Only consider,my lady. Was there ever a more proud and haughty creaturethan Kendrick Vespa? Can you suppose a fellow so puffed upin his own conceit would have accepted another man's by-blow ashis own all these years? Fed and clothed and educated--"
"It is exactly what Kendrick would have done," moaned LadyPaula. "Especially if he knew who the man was. You know as wellas I that there are many fine families among the ton with childrenborn `on the wrong side of the blanket,' as they say, yet who areacknowledged as legitimate purely to avoid scandal."
Sir Reginald glared at her and said without much force, "It'sall fustian I tell you! The boy's ill. Mentally deranged from hiswounds, and should be clapped up. For Lord's sake do not letthat imagination of yours start running wild!"
Gripping her hands tightly, Lady Paula took a quiveringbreath, and as if he had not spoken, murmured, "What a viciousthing for Kendrick to have done! Much worse than having shotdown the boy who loved him so. But I suppose it was quite logicalfor him to have hated John all these years." She smiled wanlyinto her husband's dark scowl, and nodded. "Oh, yes, I believe it,my dear. It all falls into place, do you see? Why Kendrick was soseldom at home. Why Faith was so neglected. And now, ofcourse, I see the resemblance, so that I can only marvel I didn'tcomprehend long ago . . . John was so very unlike eitherKendrick or Sherry."
"What stuff!" roared Sir Reginald, springing to his feet. "Johntakes after our side of the family! The fine Saxon side of his heritage!Whereas Kendrick gave his Norman characteristics toSherborne! I might have known that, womanlike, you'd fastenonto such a melodramatic explanation! Well, I don't believe it!Not a word!" He began to pace up and down once more, carryinghis glass and growling to himself, while Lady Paula stared intospace and thought her thoughts and was silent. Checkingabruptly, he demanded, "Who was it, then? Since you think youknow."
She looked at him steadily. "Don't you remember? WhenSherry was two years old and Kendrick was flirting with so manyof the beauties of the day, and Faith began to form her own court?Think back, Reginald! She was very lovely then, and of all themen who adored her, who was the one Kendrick most hated?The man Faith should have wed, you used to say. The man shewould have chosen for her lover. The perfect way to thoroughlyhumiliate her husband and give him back his own."
"My... dear... God!" Sir Reginald's eyes had become verywide. He collapsed onto the side of the bed as if his legs hadmelted under him. "I wonder Kendrick did not strangle her?
His wife nodded. "You see the resemblance now."
"Yes. Jupiter! How could we all have been so blind?"
There was a brief silence, broken when Sir Reginald startedand exclaimed, "Deuce take it, Paula! We're in a fine bumblebroth!John wants to marry Francesca Ottavio's granddaughter.Kendrick was instrumental in the murder of the girl's father, andthe old lady knows the whole story. The whole story!"
"Oh, how dreadful! Then John must be equally unacceptableto her as Kendrick's heir, or as a man with no name. LadyFrancesca will never permit the marriage. Indeed, I'm surprisedhe'd approach the girl, under the circumstances."
"He can't fix his interest, of course. But he thinks she caresfor him, and he is determined to at least discover his real father'sidentity. Can't blame the poor lad, but... I hope you'll not be sounwise as to, er..."
"As to tell him?" Lady Paula sighed and shook her head sadly."If I had a grain of compassion, I would. But--no, dear. If he's tolearn that home truth, it must be from his mama; not from hisgreat aunt."
Sir Reginald gave a sigh of relief. "Faith's off flibbertigibbetingaround South America. I doubt she'll ever come back. And ifshe does, she'll never tell him. The very thought of more scandalwould keep her silly mouth shut! I only pray that whateverroguery Kendrick was about don't become public knowledge."
"I wonder whatever it could have been? How dreadful tohave real wickedness in our family! If the Horse Guards andLord Wellington are involved..." Tearful, Lady Paula reached outboth hands. "Oh, Reginald, I could not bear to be shunned bySociety!"
"Now then, m'dear," he soothed, holding her hands firmly."No need to make a Cheltenham tragedy of the business! Wemay never know the true facts, and if John does say aught of it,folks will surely set it down to the poor lad's cracked brainbox. Ifthere was some really shocking dealing, the authorities may beas anxious as we are to sweep it all under the rug. Whatever thecase we must keep silent, Paula. Our niece did marry a Vespa,so our honour is involved. For the sake of the family name you mustkeep your tongue between your teeth and admit nothing--toanyone! You promise?"
Sir Reginald's lady nodded and on a smothered sob gave herpromise.
Continues...
Excerpted from The Riddle of the Lost Loverby Patricia Veryan Copyright © 2000 by Patricia Veryan. Excerpted by permission.
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