Chapter Four
If she were being honest, Ellen wasn’t entirely certain standing straighter and speaking with careful diction was truly the trump card she needed to win whatever game she was playing with the aristocracy. But there was something incredibly fun about wandering the grounds of a racetrack, pretending she was as high and mighty as the titled men and women who turned up their noses at everything, including each other.
She’d actually been surprised when Lady Grayson responded so well to her, but not as surprised as she was when Joseph froze moments after they’d heard the Duke of Westminster chatting with a man who Ellen assumed was some sort of business partner or assistant.
“What?” she whispered, leaning closer to him than she should have, given that they were in public. “Was it something he said? Has something happened?”
A moment later, with a flash of movement she caught out of the side of her eye at first, she saw what it was. Montrose.
“That blasted man,” she huffed, tugging Joseph’s arm a bit to shock him into moving. Maybe breathing too, because he didn’t seem to be doing that at the moment either.
“It’s him,” Joseph said, blinking out of his stupor. “It has to be him.”
He shifted to hold Ellen’s hand instead of simply letting her rest it in the crook of his elbow and pulled her off to one side so they could conceal themselves behind the corner of some sort of paddock where a few of the horses were being exercised. She didn’t truly understand the purpose of Joseph’s actions, particularly since the movement caught the attention of a few of the ladies who looked to be attempting to catch the Duchess of Westminster’s attention closer to the stables, but any opportunity she had to be close to Joseph was a good one, as far as she was concerned.
“I saw him,” she said in a whisper, feeling rather as though they were engaged in some sort of mad-capped espionage instead of sneaking around a racetrack, attempting to win an invitation to a ball. “I saw Montrose. You’re right, it’s him.”
To Ellen’s surprise, Joseph shook his head. He peered around the edge of the paddock wall for a moment, then took a step farther into their concealment and finally looked directly at her.
“Not Montrose,” he said. He shook his head, then went on with, “I mean, that is Montrose, yes. But that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” Ellen asked, straightening a bit and resting one hand on her hip. She fixed Joseph with a wry grin. He might have been part of the British aristocracy, but Joseph was a bundle of nerves and intensity in a finely-tailored suit, waiting to prove himself to the world. Which was why she’d taken such a shine to him to begin with.
The fire of intrigue burned hot in Joseph’s eyes as he launched into his explanation. “It’s Westminster. The man Montrose has his eyes on now, the man he wants to try to bring down. Westminster has to be the reason he’s surfaced again after disappearing for a few months. Montrose must think that he can bring down Westminster, the wealthiest man in England, both paying off all of the debts we know he has and completing the ultimate coup in his relentless grudge against the aristocracy.”
Ellen frowned. “Why does he have such a grudge against the aristocracy anyhow?”
Joseph let out a breath and eyed her warily. “As I understand it from my brothers and what they were able to discover, Montrose began his life as a domestic servant. A low-ranking one at that. He was treated cruelly by his master, and perhaps he saw others in his position treated cruelly as well. I believe he was dismissed from a position without references, possibly under dubious circumstances, which made his life very difficult indeed, and as a result, he made it his life’s purpose to seek revenge on the class he believed has wronged him.”
Ellen’s frown deepened. “And he’s done all of the things he’s done to hurt people and destroy families simply because he’s sore over the way he was treated?” When Joseph nodded, she snorted and shook her head. “Everyone is mistreated at some point. It does not turn them into villains. Why, I cannot begin to tell you all the ways I’ve been snubbed and left out of the games that the other girls were playing in the schoolyard, or the times I was purposely not invited to tea parties and the like because the other girls thought I was strange. Or the snide comments that people like the Bonneville sisters made about me. Or the way I was passed over for a position in the Ladies’ Auxiliary because I ‘wasn’t a good representative for the town’. Or the time Albert Finch and his friends filled up my dance card with made-up names so that I was forced to be a wallflower for the entire evening. That was just last winter, mind you. Or the way—Joseph, why are you looking at me like that?”
Indeed, Joseph’s expression had changed from determination and purpose to something drawn and sad as Ellen had rattled off her list of all the ways she’d been ostracized from everyone else her age in Haskell—which was a large part of the reason she’d chosen to travel to London to find a husband instead of staying home.
“I didn’t know,” he said at last, shaking a bit, like he had started out with the intention of rolling his shoulders, but decided to shrug instead, and failed to execute either gesture. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
Ellen made a sound of annoyance and waved her hand. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, trying to make herself believe it. “That’s all in the past. Which is precisely the point. Why should Montrose take the slights of his past as an excuse to lash out and hurt other people? Does he think he’s the only person who has ever suffered or felt left out?”
Joseph’s expression changed again, as though she’d said something that resonated with him. “You are right,” he said with a nod. “We all feel left out from time to time. It’s what we do about that which defines us.”
They stood staring at each other for a moment. It was awkward, but also nice. Ellen liked Joseph, but he suddenly felt closer to her than he had before. In fact, she had the fluttery feeling that he just might kiss her.
Joseph did lean closer to her for a moment, but he jerked back and shook his head, then cleared his throat.
“We need to follow Montrose to discover what his plans are,” he said, taking Ellen’s hand again.
This time, even though he’d held her hands a dozen times before, Ellen felt a tingle that shot up her arm. She let Joseph drag her into the open, then adjust the way he escorted her to rest her hand in the crook of his arm again.
They started out from their hiding place quickly, but after a few steps, Joseph set a more sedate pace. In the few short minutes behind the paddock, the duke and duchess and their entourage had moved on. It appeared as though they were walking to the other side of the track, where the seating areas were.
Joseph continued toward the stables, though.
“I assume you think Montrose is still nearby and that he hasn’t gone to join the Westminsters and the others,” she said.
Joseph nodded. “He was hiding in the stables before, looking like a spy, but not as though he would confront his target. My guess is that he will continue to do the same for now. I cannot see that there would be any point for him in confronting Westminster, only in keeping an eye on him.”
Ellen hummed, impressed. “You’re a clever one, Joseph Rathborne-Paxton,” she said, grinning at him as they entered the stable and started down the row of stalls. “If I didn’t know better, I would think—”
Her words were cut off and she nearly squealed in shock as Joseph suddenly grabbed her around the waist and lunged into the nearest open stall with her. Not only that, he sank into a crouch, bringing her with him and surrounding her with his body in one corner of the stall, amidst a pile of sweet-smelling hay.