The Danbury Scandals by Mary Nichols Read Free Book Online

anyone had cause to be resentful, she had, because
of her mother, but had he also suffered at their hands? Could he be bent on
revenge? Who was he? His name was not Jack Daw, of that she was certain, and he
was certainly not a gypsy. If Lord Danbury had not insisted on her accompanying
them all to London, she would have tried to find out more about him. As it was,
he would have to remain a mystery, unless, of course, he was still in Beckford
when they returned in the autumn.
    She was so
engrossed in her thoughts that she did not hear the sound of footsteps, until a
shadow fell across the stone floor at her feet. Startled, she looked up,
thinking he had returned, but it was Mark.
    ‘Who was that
fellow I saw leaving?’ he asked, using his crop to indicate the open door.
    Maryanne had
stepped across to look at the register the Frenchman had been scrutinising and
was surprised to see the page open at the year 1787. The name Mark James
Danbury leapt out at her. Without knowing why she did it, she shut the book
before Mark could see it and turned, with as much composure as she could
muster, to answer him. ‘I have no idea who he was. He was in the church when I
arrived. We exchanged greetings and he was perfectly civil.’ She had missed the
opportunity to tell him of her suspicions, and now it would be even more
difficult to do so.
    ‘It is not only
unseemly, but dangerous to speak to strangers, Maryanne.’ He took her arm. ‘I
think I had better tell the Reverend Mr Cudlipp to keep a watch on the church
plate. And it would be better if you did not walk out alone again.’
    ‘Why not? I
surely do not need an escort to come to the village, where everyone knows me. I
don’t suddenly stop being the parson’s ward just because the Dowager Duchess of
Wiltshire takes it into her head to recognise me after all these years.’
    He opened his
mouth to scold her, changed his mind and his tone softened. ‘Maryanne, you are
already very dear to me and I would never forgive myself if anything happened
to you.’ He was infuriatingly confident as he took her hand and tucked it in
the crook of his arm and turned to leave.
    ‘I told you, we
hardly spoke. You are making something of nothing.’
    ‘Your
well-being is not nothing, Maryanne. I do not think you realise how important
it is to me.’ He shut the lych-gate behind them and took her arm again. ‘I went
home to ask if you would like to ride out, but you were nowhere to be found.
You told no one where you were going.’
    ‘How did you
know where to look for me, then?’
    ‘Your maid said
you had taken the hassock with you, so it was not difficult to guess.’ He
smiled. ‘Come, we will be back in time for luncheon, if we hurry, and perhaps
Father will have returned home with the news that Her Grace remains tolerably
well and we can all set off for London. I am looking forward to being your
escort and the envy of the whole ton.’
    She smiled at
his compliment, and together they walked back to Beckford Hall, unaware that
brown eyes watched their progress and the owner of the eyes was cursing his ill
luck in voluble and colourful French.

Chapter Three
     
    As soon as they
were all installed at Danbury House, in Piccadilly, Caroline, accompanied by a
reluctant Maryanne, began a round of visits to friends who had also arrived in
the capital, a pastime which was punctuated with receiving callers, shopping,
carriage rides in the park and endless gossip. They were always chaperoned by
Mrs Ryfield. Several years younger than her brother, Emma Ryfield was still a
very handsome woman, with sleek dark hair and the Danbury brown eyes. James had
told her to treat both girls alike and to make sure they were seen in the right
places, spoke to the right people and were invited to the right gatherings, and
she was to ensure that they were not plagued by the attentions of undesirables.
Maryanne entered into the social whirl with rather less enthusiasm than
Caroline, who spent much of her time