“I am going into Banbury tomorrow,” he began, once they were seated at dinner. He got no further.
“Your movements have nothing to do with me, my lord.”
For one seething instant, Raith’s temper flared. But he controlled it, and once again closed his lips upon any further utterance. It was not merely disheartening. It was damning. Rosina had turned into a model of the wife of convenience he had originally negotiated.
He was entering the outskirts of Banbury, and was obliged to give his attention to his cattle. It did not take him many minutes to make his way to Ottery’s offices. He divested himself of his outer garments, and was ushered immediately into his lawyer’s inner sanctum. A hearty handshake greeted him, together with his friend’s penetrating gaze.
“You look deathly, my lord.”
“I feel it.”
“What in the world has been happening?”
“Don’t even ask.” Raith passed a hand through his hair, worn untied and ragged, and sighed. “I will tell you presently, Ottery, that you may know why I come so late.”
He tried to avoid his lawyer’s look of concern, as he flung himself into a chair at the small desk, and sank his head into his hands. Ottery closed the little wooden doors to the shelf opening on the wall which gave access to the judas painting within the other room, and crossed to a small table in the window embrasure, on which was placed a tray with a decanter and glasses.
“May I offer you wine, my lord? It is good claret.”
Raith dragged himself up. “I thank you, no. I must keep a clear head.” He saw the troubled frown in the other’s eyes, and attempted a smile. “You found Cambois?”
“Indeed I did, my lord.” Ottery’s features registered distaste. “An ill specimen, I fear. I did not take to him.”
“That does not altogether surprise me.” Raith set his jaw. “I am a little better acquainted now with the type of man he is. But let me hear your findings first.”
The lawyer laid down the decanter, without pouring, and came across to take his own seat opposite. “Mr Cambois was inebriated for much of the time, which is why it took so long to extract information from him. What I gleaned, I fear, is unlikely to be either to your taste, or your satisfaction.”
Despite all, Raith could not prevent a quickening of interest. Together with a resurgence of revulsion. He must not forget this monstrous individual had been guilty of attempting to violate a young girl given expressly into his care. That much even Forteviot’s testimony had agreed.
“Go on, Ottery.”
“I will be brief, sir. From what I could understand, Herbert Cambois sought to recoup his losses at the table by a sale of Miss Charlton’s person to Lord Forteviot. He further stated that he had discovered Miss Charlton to be...” he hesitated, and Raith held his breath “...I shall say, unvirtuous.” Ottery’s voice was entirely without intonation, flat and unemotional, as if he were reading an indictment in court. “As a result, so he believed, of an illicit association with one of the male servants. The contract was broken, and he turned Miss Charlton out of doors.”
Raith’s jaw was set. He could barely get the question out. “Was she alleged to have been with child?”
Ottery’s quick frown of puzzlement threw him into disorder, and he looked away.
“What makes you ask that, my dear sir?”
He clenched his fist. “Answer, I pray you.”
“It was not even hinted at, my lord. Why—”
Raith threw out a hand. “A moment.”
He felt choked by his own inward shaking, torn by a measure of relief and fears not wholly allayed. Cambois might not have known that part. He had expected the rest, but that made the hearing no less painful. He had thought the tearing disquiet was buried under the loss of Rosina’s regard. He had been mistaken. Tortured by uncertainty, it was equally unendurable — to live with her, or without. Which was the more plausible: that Forteviot and Cambois were in a string, and Dr Barcliffe mistaken, or that Rosina had lied to him?
“My lord!” He became aware that Ottery was calling him. The lawyer was holding out a ruby-filled glass. “Drink this!”
Raith took it dumbly, and tossed off the wine. As he laid down the glass, his head began to clear. He glanced up. “Ottery, you must release me from this marriage!”
His lawyer stared at him. “Have you run mad, Lord Raith?”
“I have not. But I shall undoubtedly do so if I do not extricate myself from this abominable farce.”
“My lord, I do most earnestly beg of you to consider well what you are saying.”
Raith leapt from the chair, and paced up and down the restricted space to one side of the desk. “You do not know the circumstances.”
