He took a couple of paces into the room and bowed, separately, to Beth. She was suddenly so weak she could not even start to rise. Her body was remembering the feel of his arms around her, and softening, as if in anticipation. ‘Forgive me, my lord, I cannot-’

‘Pray do not attempt to move, Miss Aubrey. I am sure it took quite enough exertion for you to make your way downstairs this morning.’ He paused, frowning suddenly. Then, turning back to Mrs Aubrey, ‘Would you permit me to send over one of my footmen to help while Miss Aubrey is recovering? He could carry her up and down the stairs. And you could use him for any other convenient chores.’

‘Master Jonathan, I should not dream-’

He waved a dismissive hand. ‘You would be doing me a favour, ma’am. There are far too many servants at the Manor and, with only myself in residence, they do not have nearly enough to do. I cannot abide idleness.’

‘Well…’

‘Am I not to be consulted in this project of yours, my lord?’ Beth’s voice sounded sharp in her own ears, for she had overcome her weakness by stoking her anger against him. He was treating her like a parcel. She would not allow that.

He turned to look down at her. The very faintest tinge of redness had appeared on his cheeks. ‘I beg your pardon.’ His voice grew quieter. ‘It was not my intention to impose on you.’

She softened again, instantly. He had sounded arrogant, but he surely meant well. She had no right to let her inner turmoil betray itself in bad temper. ‘Your offer is most generous, my lord, but it is not necessary. My ankle is mending extremely well and the more I exercise it, the sooner I shall be fully recovered.’

‘Very well, ma’am.’ He made to sit down beside Mrs Aubrey.

‘And I would suggest,’ Beth continued, feeling increasingly in control of this unequal encounter, ‘that if your servants are underemployed, you should put them to work in the village. I am sure Mrs Aubrey can provide you with a long list of chores and repairs which need to be done.’

‘Beth! You go too far!’

‘No, ma’am. Miss Aubrey is quite right. I noticed yesterday, in spite of the storm, that some of the houses need urgent work. My agent has been most remiss in allowing such dilapidation. The repairs will be put in hand today.’ He took a cup of tea from Mrs Aubrey and rose politely to carry it across to Beth. ‘However, I fear I must disappoint Miss Aubrey. I doubt that my footmen have the inclination, or the skills, to carry them out.’

Beth took her tea with a demure nod and pursed lips. Was he roasting her? She hoped so. Strangers did not tease. But he had kept a totally straight face so she could not be sure. Until she was, she certainly must not laugh.

‘Do you remain at Fratcombe long, Master Jonathan?’ Mrs Aubrey poured his tea and handed it to him.

‘Not on this occasion, ma’am, though I expect to return again quite soon. It is a huge change, from the army in Spain to the English countryside, I may tell you. There, our duty was simple-to fight the enemy. Since my return, I have been reminded of my other duties. To my various estates, for example, and to my position in society.’ His voice grated, as if he was finding duty a hard taskmaster. Then, quite suddenly, he smiled warmly at the old lady in a way that transformed him. His face was softer, younger, and his eyes were dancing. ‘Here, at the rectory, I know that I am welcomed as just an unruly lad who happens to have grown up. A little.’

Mrs Aubrey nodded, trying not to return his smile, but she could not conceal her fondness for Jonathan.

Beth swallowed. A knot of anxiety formed in her stomach. He had had the run of the rectory when he was a boy. Did he intend to visit often, to renew his intimacy with the Aubreys? Oh dear. When he was relaxed like this, he was much too attractive. Soon, she would be dreaming of silver-clad knights again, and she must not! She could so easily betray herself. She must find some way of avoiding his company. It was the only solution.

Mrs Aubrey cleared her throat. ‘Perhaps you would tell us about your time in Spain?’

A sudden shadow crossed Jonathan’s face. ‘If you will forgive me, ma’am, I would prefer not to speak of it. Much of it was not…er…pleasant, particularly of late.’

‘I understand,’ the old lady said quietly. ‘We know that you were at the siege of Badajoz.’ They knew, too, that he had been mentioned in dispatches for his part in the final assault, but Mrs Aubrey would not embarrass him by mentioning it. ‘We read about the shameful outrages after the battle.’

He said nothing, but his face had assumed a very stern cast. Beth could not begin to imagine what he had experienced, or what he had seen, in that terrible siege and in the sack of the town which had followed. The casualties in the assault had been enormous, and the soldiers’ conduct in the town afterwards had been utterly sickening.

The awkward silence stretched between them. Jonathan did not even move to drink his tea, though his jaw and his throat were working. He was remembering terrible things, Beth was sure. She tried desperately to think of something to say, to distract him from his obvious pain.

Mrs Aubrey was before her. ‘So, Master Jonathan, what do you think of your lady foundling now? She has improved a good deal, would you not say, from the drowned stray you carried across our doorstep last Christmas?’

‘What? Miss Aubrey is the lady from the clearing?’

Chapter Three

Shocked, and embarrassed, Jon moved in his seat to stare directly at the injured woman. ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am,’ he began, the words tumbling out in his haste to apologise. ‘I had completely forgotten the incident until Mrs Aubrey mentioned it just now, because you look so-’ He stopped just in time and cleared his throat.

Yesterday, he had assumed Miss Aubrey was a true lady, even if only a poor relation. But she was not an Aubrey at all. The bedraggled woman he had rescued could be anything, even a woman from the gutter! He recalled thinking at the time that she might be a lady, but still…

She was really very attractive, now he took the time to look at her. He let his gaze travel slowly from her curly red-brown hair and perfect complexion down the slim curves of her body, finally coming to rest on her bandaged ankle. ‘Forgive me, but you look considerably more like a lady than you did then.’ It was no more than the truth. But it was too stark. He had spoken without sufficient thought. Again! What on earth was the matter with him? Coupled with his brazen scrutiny, his words were almost an insult. She had turned bright scarlet.

Recollecting his manners at last, and the wisdom of silence, he busied himself with his teacup while he tried to gather his wits.

After a long pause, he turned to Mrs Aubrey and said, in a polite but neutral voice, ‘So our foundling has been here with you all this time? And with the name Aubrey? You did not discover her true identity?’

‘We did everything possible, including advertising-discreetly-in the newspapers for a missing woman by the name of Elizabeth. But none of it produced any information at all. It is as though poor Beth had emerged out of nothing, like a phantom.’

Jon turned back to ‘poor Beth’. Her heightened colour had drained away completely. ‘I am heartily sorry that nothing could be done, ma’am. And you have had no memory at all, not the least flash of anything, in all these months?’

‘No, my lord. Nothing.’ Her response was very swift, and very definite.

Jon could not help wondering whether he should believe her. He had heard of cases where unscrupulous people had preyed on their benefactors by pretending to have lost their memory. Might that have happened here? Was Beth Aubrey a fraud? Perhaps that was why she had turned so pale? The Aubreys were a generous couple who would never look for such duplicity. ‘It is very strange, I must say. Has Dr Willoughby nothing to suggest on the matter? You have consulted him, I assume?’

‘If we had consulted him about Beth’s memory loss, it would have become common knowledge. Besides, what does a country doctor know of such things? So we-the rector and I-we allowed ourselves a little white lie. We gave out that Beth was a distant relation who had come to stay with us for a while, having no remaining close family of her own.’

‘I see. Then no one hereabouts knows how Miss Aubrey was discovered?’

‘Some of the gentry families suspect that Beth is not quite what she seems. I am sorry to say that some of them forget their Christian duty, and treat her like a servant, rather than a lady born and bred.’ Mrs Aubrey shook her head sorrowfully. ‘It is not what we would have expected of them.’

‘Nor I, ma’am. When I stayed here as a child, I was always struck by the kindness and generosity of all the great families of the district.’

‘That might have had something to do with the fact that you were heir to an earldom, sir.’ Miss Aubrey sounded waspish. Not surprising, perhaps, especially if her plight was genuine.

Jon looked assessingly at her and was struck by the direct way she met and held his gaze. She certainly had the air of a true lady. ‘As it happens, ma’am, I was not the heir then. That was my elder brother. But I do agree that my being the son of an earl might have coloured their judgement a little. And I am disappointed to learn that you have not always been accorded the respect due to a lady. The rector’s sponsorship should be enough for anyone, however high their status.’

Yet again, he regretted his words the moment they were spoken. After all, the rector’s word had not been enough for him. Guilt pricked Jon’s conscience. He was responsible for this. He was the one who had rescued Beth; and the one who had foisted her on the Aubreys, even though he had not expected her to remain with them for long. If she was genuine, it was now Jon’s duty to ensure she was restored to her rightful place, however lowly that might be. And if she was a fraud, it was his duty to expose her. She was not to be a welcome diversion after all. She was just one more irksome duty to be discharged.

Mrs Aubrey laid a hand on his sleeve. ‘If you were seen to accept Beth, the other families would follow your lead, I am sure. As Earl of Portbury, you outrank them all.’

That was true, but was he prepared to do what she asked? Was it not his duty to satisfy himself, first of all, that Beth Aubrey was worthy of his support? He was still trying to decide how to reply when the sitting room door opened.

‘Lady Fitzherbert has called, ma’am, and asks if-’

The little maid was not allowed to finish. Lady Fitzherbert, resplendent in rustling purple silk and feather-trimmed bonnet, pushed the girl aside and marched into the room. She paused barely long enough to drop a disdainful curtsy to Mrs Aubrey before launching into an angry complaint. ‘I have come to consult the rector on a matter of urgent business, but your servant here tells me that he is not at home to callers. I must protest, ma’am. Why, I am-’

Jon had risen at the same time as Mrs Aubrey but did nothing else to draw attention to himself. He waited to see what would happen next.

‘There has been some misunderstanding, I fear,’ Mrs Aubrey said simply. ‘The rector cannot see you because he is not at home. However, I expect him to return within the hour. Perhaps you would like to-?’

‘Why, Lord Portbury! How delightful to see you safely returned!’ Lady Fitzherbert abruptly turned aside from her hostess and sank into a very elegant curtsy.

Jon prepared himself for the worst kind of toadeating. Sir Bertram Fitzherbert and his detestable wife were relative newcomers to the district, but held themselves to be above everyone but the nobility. The Fitzherberts were bound to be among those who had slighted Beth Aubrey, for she was a nobody, with no social standing at all in their eyes.

In that instant, Jon decided their behaviour was an insult to him, as well as to the lady herself. Miss Aubrey was his foundling, after all. The rector’s word should be good enough for such upstarts as the Fitzherberts. This harpy needed to be taken down a peg or two.

‘Sir Bertram will be so pleased to learn that you are back in residence at the Manor,’ Lady Fitzherbert gushed. ‘There is so little truly genteel society hereabouts.’

‘Country society can be a little restricted, to be sure,’ Jon said, as soon as she paused to draw breath. ‘But you have several families within easy driving distance. And during my absence from Fratcombe, you have had the rector and Mrs Aubrey. And Miss Aubrey, also.’ He stepped aside so that Lady Fitzherbert would see Beth lying on the sofa behind him. ‘You are already acquainted, I collect?’