Tristan regarded his host steadily. ‘Have you considered, sir, that your niece will be of age in a few weeks’ time? She will then be able to wed anyone she chooses.’
‘Rest assured it will not be your nephew!’
‘Really? From what I have observed, I believe your niece is very fond of him. Surely you would not like to see her hurt.’
‘That need not concern you, my lord.’ Pridham rose. ‘Now, if that is all, I am extremely busy.’
Tristan pushed himself to his feet. Time for a little plain speaking.
‘You have made it quite clear that you will not countenance an offer from my nephew. Perhaps we should discuss my concerns about Miss Fairchild. You cannot be unaware that there is some talk about her parentage.’
‘Idle gossip that is unworthy of attention.’
‘Unworthy, perhaps, but the speculation cannot be other than damaging to the young lady.’
Mr Pridham drew himself to his full height and glared up at Tristan.
‘My lord I am not at liberty to tell you anything of Miss Fairchild’s history, or her parents. Nor can I give your nephew any reason to hope. I am sure he is an excellent young man but he should not, must not, offer for her.’ He stalked to the door and held it open. ‘I bid you good day, my lord.’
Tristan made his way back to George Street, turning over in his mind his conversation with Pridham. He had expected the man to show a little more compassion towards the young couple. Instead, the fellow had exhibited a despotic attitude that would not have looked out of place in a Gothic novel. No wonder Natalya might be tempted to marry, just to escape his petty tyranny.
Freddie had been in good spirits all week and Tristan hoped he would not be unduly disappointed by the setback. He would have to warn the boy against any hasty action, but if the pair were intent upon a union, then they should wait until they were both of age. Natalya would be one-and-twenty in a few weeks’ time, Freddie’s birthday was in October. Heaven knew he did not want them to marry, but if they were determined, he would not stand in their way. And, he thought grimly, he would have to coax his sister into accepting to the match.
Arriving at his house, Tristan was informed that his nephew was in the drawing room. He left his hat and gloves with the footman and went in. Freddie was standing beside the fireplace, staring down into the empty hearth, and Tristan decided to get the bad news over with as quickly as possible.
He said, without preamble, ‘I will tell you now, Pridham is determined to forbid the banns.’
Freddie turned towards him, his boyish countenance pale and unusually grim.
‘Is he, by Gad? Well, it seems he is not the only one who objects to my courting Miss Fairchild. I have been warned off, Tris.’
Chapter Seven
Tristan fetched two glasses of brandy and put one into Freddie’s hand. The boy was still looking very white so he put one hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him down into a chair.
‘Tell me,’ he ordered. ‘Everything, and from the beginning.’
‘You know I went out riding with Gore Conyer and Henry Grisham this morning. When we got back, I took my hack to the stables behind the White Hart and was on my way here when two fellows approached me. They seemed respectable enough and they invited me into the Cock Tavern to discuss a matter of business.’ He gave a slight shrug. ‘They addressed me by name and I thought perhaps Conyer or Middleston had put them my way, but no—’ He broke off, his brow darkening. ‘Damned impertinence! They told me they had been commissioned to talk to me, to warn me that my...my association with a certain lady who lives in Sydney Place must cease, or it would be the worse for me!’
Tristan muttered a curse. ‘You did not recognise these men?’
Freddie shook his head. ‘They were not part of the Pridhams’ household. At least, not that I had ever seen.’
‘How did they speak—were they local, educated?’
‘They were dressed respectably. Clerks, or servants, perhaps. Only one of them talked and he spoke very well.’ Freddie hesitated, frowning. ‘Too well, now I come to think of it. No trace of an accent. It crossed my mind at the time that perhaps he was not an Englishman. Deuced odd.’
‘As you say, Freddie, damned odd. What are you going to do?’
‘Do? Why, nothing. Even if I had changed my mind about marrying Natalya I should not withdraw now!’ He saw Tristan’s brows go up and added quickly, ‘Not that I have changed my mind. Not at all! Damn their impudence, I am not to be intimidated by such a thing!’
‘Nevertheless, I think we must take this seriously, at least until we learn more. Pridham told me he was not at liberty to tell me anything about his ward. A strange choice of phrase, don’t you think? Perhaps there is someone else behind all this. You will oblige me by taking your groom or a footman with you when you go abroad, unless you are in the carriage.’
‘Take a servant with me, everywhere? I cannot do that!’
‘You can and you will. By heaven, Freddie, there is some mystery here and I am damned if I will let it go. I am determined to get to the bottom of this matter. I shall write to Charles Denham tonight. He can make discreet enquiries about the Pridhams. And about Miss Natalya Fairchild.’
‘Dash it all, Tris, you don’t want to involve your secretary.’
‘On the contrary, Charles is the very best person to involve. He is discretion itself and he is currently in London on estate business, so he is well placed to look into this matter.’ He glanced at the clock. ‘I will write to him tonight. Now I must go and change for dinner.’
Freddie had finished his brandy and was looking
