Chapter Five #3
‘Bribery?’ Kate was appalled. ‘Do you mean it, sir?’ But already he was joining in the shouts again—‘Save our town!’
More people had stopped to watch them, many looking hostile.
Some screwed up the leaflets they’d been given and tossed them aside.
A group of labourers came over from a nearby building site and shouted, ‘You leave the rich Londoners alone! They’ve brought lots of work here for folk like us, so shut your mouths! ’
Rain started to fall, but the street didn’t empty, and instead the unfriendly members of the crowd were now outnumbering the demonstrators.
Kate was soaked and anxious, but Melling put his hand on her shoulder, saying, ‘You’re doing well.
Stand your ground, because I’m going to get help.
’ He turned to the others. ‘All of you, let everyone know we have justice on our side!’
Then he disappeared into the throng. Insults were being hurled freely now with a few punches being thrown, and when some of the men jostled against Kate she managed to stay upright, but it was with relief that she saw some constables pushing their way into the melee.
‘Thank goodness you’re here,’ she exclaimed to the nearest one. ‘I’m so glad you’ve come to our aid!’
But the constable ignored her. Waving his baton, he called out to the demonstrators, ‘Right, you lot. You’re the ones who started all this, so it’s time for you to clear off, before we start making arrests.’
Arrests? ‘But it’s not our fault!’ Kate cried out. ‘And I did not think we were breaking the law!’
‘Then think again, missy.’ His tone was scornful. ‘This town is a nice, peaceful place. We can do without your lot causing trouble.’
She looked around for Mr Melling, but there was no sign of him.
Then she was almost knocked off her feet by a sudden violent surging of the crowd and for a moment, the old fear overwhelmed her of being in danger and unable to run.
That was the moment when she heard a sardonic male voice she recognised all too well.
‘Miss Summerby? Yes—I thought it was you. In the interests of your safety, I suggest that you come with me. Now.’
It was the Earl of Rivington, and his expression was not friendly. Before she had a chance to reply, he had one strong arm round her waist to lead her away, and the crowd parted for him as if by magic. ‘My lord,’ people were murmuring. Some even bowed. ‘My lord.’
She hated this. It was as if her dream of him holding her had gone horribly, horribly wrong—especially when, as soon as they were well away from the crowd, he turned to face her with a look of sheer exasperation.
‘Miss Summerby,’ he said, ‘why is it that wherever you go, you seem intent on creating trouble for yourself?’
Dan had been at the Pavilion that morning because the Prince had arrived in town last night and wanted his opinion on some new chandeliers in the ballroom.
Dan hadn’t told him what he truly thought—that they were frankly hideous.
Instead, he’d said, ‘Perhaps a little decorum here and there might be welcome, sir.’
In Dan’s private view the entire Pavilion, with its brash domes and its odd mixture of Greek, Oriental and Egyptian ornamentation, was a monstrosity.
The chandeliers were no exception, with their gaudily coloured crystal drops and gilded branches carved with nymphs.
But the Prince had laughed away Dan’s comment.
‘Decorum? That’s not a word I expect from you, Rivington, my friend!
I always thought you could be relied on to go over the top in everything you did.
I’ve heard about your antics here in Brighton.
’ He clapped Dan on the back. ‘Wild parties, wilder women—that’s the spirit.
I’m holding a party myself soon and I’ll expect you and your friends to be on top form. You understand?’
Since the Prince was intent on explaining his party plans in full, Dan had got away with some difficulty, and he’d been heading through the rain for the inn where he’d left his carriage when he noticed the fracas on the Parade.
It was a protest, he realised, no doubt involving the usual bunch of firebrands who objected to any changes at all in Brighton even if they were for the better.
He was about to walk past when he stopped abruptly, because there amongst them was Miss Kate Summerby, smack in the middle of a struggle between the protestors, the constables and some local roughs.
Dear God. What was she up to?
He knew he was unlikely to get any thanks, but he elbowed his way in, shoved a few louts out of the way, grabbed her round her waist and dragged her out of danger.
She looked pale and shaken, but when he asked her why she was so intent on creating trouble for herself, her first action was to pull free of his grasp.
‘For your information, my lord,’ she said as the rain trickled down her cheeks, ‘I’m taking a stand with the others against men of wealth who use unscrupulous methods to get exactly what they want.’
‘I guess,’ Dan said, ‘that you were thinking in particular about me.’
‘Yes. Yes, I was!’ Her eyes still glittered with defiance.
‘Very well. I’ll leave you to it, then.’
‘Please do! I am among friends, and you are certainly not one of them— Oh!’
She broke off, because she’d been almost knocked over by a large horse that some fool had ridden into the crowd. Once more Dan dragged her aside, shielding her with his tall body. ‘Among friends?’ He was incredulous. ‘You aren’t referring to that man Melling, are you?’
‘I am! Mr Melling was here only a few moments ago, and he assured me he was going for help!’
‘Don’t tell me you believed him? Listen, when I arrived, I saw him scarpering like a frightened rabbit.
’ Dan looked around, noting that the mayhem was in no way abating.
‘I’m getting you away from here, whether you like it or not.
And I’m also going to explain why George Melling is the very last man you should trust.’
She said bitterly, ‘So the enmity between you is mutual, then?’
He stared at her. ‘Has he been talking about me?’
‘Indeed, my lord, he has!’
‘Then you had better come with me,’ he said coldly, ‘if you want to hear the truth. There’s a private parlour at the Castle Inn where you can dry out.’
He saw her open her mouth to argue but she shut it again, thinking better of it, he guessed. ‘Stay close,’ he ordered.
Her hood had fallen down and her fair hair was soaked.
As they moved off, she stumbled slightly and when he took her arm, she didn’t resist but neither did she offer a word of thanks.
When they reached the Castle Inn, the landlord, who knew Dan, led them immediately to his best parlour, where a fire burned.
Dan ordered coffee, then made her sit down facing him.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘listen to me. Do you really think it’s wise to involve yourself in something as controversial as that protest? You could have fallen under that horse if I hadn’t been there! As for the insults you must have suffered…’
Her reply was defiant. ‘Don’t worry. I’m used to them.’
He suddenly remembered what Gascoyne had said. Apparently her Season was an absolute disaster and she became known as the debutante who couldn’t dance. ‘Used to them?’ he said sharply. ‘You shouldn’t have to put up with such treatment.’
‘Shouldn’t I? It’s a funny thing, my lord.’ Her green-gold eyes glittered with resistance. ‘Those men who mocked us reminded me very much of your friends. Besides, George Melling seemed a most respectable gentleman!’
‘Respectable. Is that so? What did he say about me?’
For the first time she looked a little uncertain. ‘He said—or he hinted—that you used bribery to get your way with your building plans.’
Right. Dan’s sympathy vanished. ‘It’s obviously time, Miss Summerby, for me to give you a few facts about your hero Melling.
Firstly, he’s a property developer and your aunt owed him money, lots of it, for some minor repairs to her house.
He charged her an exorbitant amount and also lent her the money to pay it, at a criminally high interest rate.
He offered to cancel the debt if she would give him some of her land.
But desperate though she was, she refused. ’
She was shaking her head. ‘I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t she accept his offer, when you tell me she was happy to accept yours?’
‘Because his plan was to build a huge hotel there. A vast building with music, outdoor entertainments, dancing and theatricals that would go on past midnight.’
‘Your parties go on till well past midnight,’ he heard her mutter.
Dan shifted in his chair, aware that this woman was making him more uncomfortable by the minute. ‘At least,’ he said, ‘my guests are limited in number. A hundred or more would have been Melling’s aim—and he’s the one who bribes the town councillors, not me, so he would have got his way!’
She looked anguished. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this when you came to show me those documents?’
‘Would you have believed me? Do you even believe me now?’
She was silent. Was that a raindrop glistening on her cheek, or was it a tear? Something was pulling at him, and he didn’t know if it was sympathy, pity, or the undeniable fact that she looked ridiculously gorgeous, even in those damp clothes with her wet hair hanging in tendrils.
‘My lord?’ she said quietly.
Damn it, he’d lost his concentration for a minute. ‘Yes?’
‘My lord, about my aunt’s debt. It doesn’t still exist, does it?’
‘No,’ Dan replied. ‘The money I gave her for the land enabled her to pay the man off.’
She bowed her head briefly then looked up at him and said, ‘Why did you go to the trouble of building a new house, when you could easily have bought an existing one in Brighton?’
It was because of Cecily, of course. Fool that he was, he’d been swayed by her demand for something special. Something unique. His old cynicism surged back. ‘At the time, I thought that it would suit my needs.’
‘And now?’
He shrugged. ‘Times change. People change.’
She was watching him with a slight frown on her face. And once more—maybe it was the glow of the firelight in here—he found himself thinking, this woman has something more than prettiness. She could, in fact, be quite beautiful.
If she allowed herself to smile. But that, he decided, was highly unlikely.
‘Whatever you say,’ she said steadily, ‘whatever my aunt wanted, I still believe that your house and the parties you allow there are a desecration.’
A desecration? Now he was angry again. Maybe she would have preferred him not to haul her out of the affray on the Parade. He examined his pocket watch. ‘I guess that Joseph will be waiting for you somewhere.’
‘No, because I drove the gig myself and I left it at the Old Ship. I can, of course, make my own way there.’ She was already on her feet. ‘Good day to you, my lord, and thank you for your assistance today.’
She spoke stiffly, and he gave her a cool nod before escorting her outside and noting that the rain had stopped—though he guessed she would still have made her escape if there had been a deluge akin to Noah’s flood.
As he watched her walk away, trying her hardest to conceal her limp, he could have punched that rogue Melling for enticing her into his group of protestors and putting her in danger, but Miss Summerby wouldn’t have thanked him for it.
In fact, she’d hardly shown any gratitude at all, and she was just about the most stubborn, awkward woman he had ever met—but she was starting to pierce his ironclad defences in ways that fired up his blood and roused his most basic male instincts.
All in all, she was a problem—and that pretty face of hers was starting to keep him awake at night, damn it.
‘Why,’ Harriet cried when Kate got home, ‘did you stay out in all that rain? Let me help you take off your wet clothes, or you’ll be running a fever before you know it!’
‘There’s no need to make a fuss,’ Kate said a little tiredly. ‘I’m fine, really I am. But as you’ll probably hear, there was a slight disturbance in the town, and the Earl came to my assistance.’
‘The Earl?’ Harriet looked delighted. ‘Really?’
‘It’s nothing to be pleased about. In fact, it was very awkward.’
‘But if he saved you today… Kate, don’t you think it possible that you might have caught his attention?’
‘If I have, it’s because I’m probably the first woman he’s met who doesn’t gasp with adoration if he so much as looks at her.’
‘But you really can look quite pretty, especially when you are fierce. And—’
‘Harriet,’ Kate broke in, ‘you are being ridiculous. Besides, I think I can smell burning. Have you something in the oven?’
‘My scones!’ Harriet fled to the kitchen with a moan of dismay, leaving Kate to head upstairs to sink down on her bed, because her stupid ankle was throbbing mercilessly and so was her heart.
This afternoon, when the Earl had pulled her out of danger, the illusion of being cared for by a strong man who seemed ready to protect her against all enemies had filled her with a yearning for much, much more, and of course it was an illusion.
Nevertheless, the entire episode had left her shaken to her core.
It wasn’t long before she heard Harriet calling up to her. ‘Kate, I’ve made a pot of tea. And only a few of the scones were burned, so do come down when you’re ready! You need a hot drink and something to eat, then you’ll be absolutely fine again.’
Sensible again, in other words. Ready to face reality. The Earl was still her enemy and nothing at all had changed, but a little voice inside still told her, you are a liar, Kate Summerby. Really, everything had changed because she had fallen for him, badly.