Mechanically greeting and welcoming people she either didn’t know at all, or people she disliked, she mulled it over in her mind.
Vernon got there first. The Lockwoods are respectable people. That’s why the more scandalous of Edward’s acquaintance aren’t here this time. Edward lost money to Mr. Lockwood on the card table, but Lockwood was short of a birthday gift to his sister. As far as she knows, the brooch has nothing to do with your husband. Edward merely paid for the jewel instead of paying his winnings in cash. William facilitated it. Now he’s using it to trap you into behaving inappropriately and preventing you discussing the estate with Edward.”
How do you know this?
I read William’s mind. Oh yes, and he has tender feelings towards Miss Lockwood. Be careful, my love.
I will, I promise.
That was little short of diabolical. So William wanted to separate them further, did he? The thought crossed her mind then, for the first time; how often had he done that? How often had William separated them, been the cause of a dispute or a quarrel, serving to drive them further apart? It was true, Edward wasn’t the man she had imagined him to be during their brief courtship, but they could still have made something of what they had, had it not been for William constantly drawing Edward into his vicious pursuits.
She would watch him closely, her eyes open now.
During dinner that evening Cassandra watched William closely. She saw how cleverly he managed to drink less than the others, while appearing to keep up, glass by glass. She saw him speak to people, saw the curious glances directed her way and wondered what he was saying about her now. After dinner, the gentlemen didn’t join the ladies for a long time, and when they did, they were considerably the worse for wear.
Again, Cassandra was denied her opportunity to get her husband alone. Edward wasn’t just mellow; he was roaring drunk. If she needed confirmation as to Miss Lockwood’s respectability, she received it when the lady rejected Edward’s none-too-subtle flirting with revulsion. Edward was no longer used to the company of respectable women.
Cassandra shuddered when she thought what a scene she would have caused in the hall earlier by refusing the introduction. Miss Lockwood humiliated, William triumphant. She would have to be very careful.
Even more than ever, now she was bearing Vernon’s child.
William handed her a plate of biscuits and murmured softly to her. “Are you certain you’re in the family way?”
She paused before her response, ostensibly deciding between a ginger crisp and an almond biscuit. She chose the almond before replying. “It’s only been two months, William, but I’m as sure as I can be at this stage.”
Her response was a good one, if she could judge by the chagrin in William’s eyes as he met her own. “Then I must congratulate you. You might very well bear the heir to the title.”
“Or his sister.” She smiled sweetly. That should do it. The doubt would, hopefully, keep him at bay for a while.
Just for an instant he revealed what she suspected were his true feelings. Intense dislike warred with a hot anger. At least, she interpreted it as anger.
He wants you out of his way. Be careful, sweetheart.
Really, you’re getting to be an old mother hen! Of course I’ll be careful! But he doesn’t want me, he just wants me to provide a girl, so he will still inherit.
You’re wrong.
* * * * *
Vernon watched his clever love observing what he could feel and coming to her own conclusions. Although he could have helped her, he knew she would prefer to discover it for herself. As always, he longed to be with her, to be by her side, to protect and love her.
Nathaniel’s hand settled on his shoulder and Vernon turned his head and smiled. “You know where I want to be. But I would wish you to come with me.”
Nathaniel grinned. “That is not likely to happen. We will both watch over her. Your son is likely to inherit the estate.”
“Yes.” They both knew the child was a boy. If it lived and if Vernon had anything to do with it, his son would live to a good old age.
It hadn’t occurred to him until later that she might find herself truly with child, instead of the phantom pregnancy she had tried to fool her husband with. When she had realized, he’d wanted to swing her in the air, take her to bed and celebrate for days.
But he couldn’t. Incorporeal again, he had watched and shared his joy in the only way he could; by communicating with her, giving her his support and love in full measure. He couldn’t touch her, he couldn’t share her life as he wanted to, but he didn’t allow himself to repine about that. They had what they had, and that was a lot more than many people.
It was important that Cassandra should see her husband at this time, but unfortunate that he felt he needed to travel accompanied. This time he’d sent word, and this time the company was fairly respectable, but as soon as the party had entered the great hall, Vernon had felt tension in the air.
He had no compunction in reading as much of the minds present as were open to him. Some humans were better at shielding their thoughts than others. Sadly, William Heatherington was almost completely shuttered, but he could pick up the stronger emotions when he sent them forth. Not so his lady love. This new woman, Miss Deborah Lockwood, believed William was in love with her. She knew some of his plans. Assuredly, she knew about the brooch, and had been waiting for Cassandra’s snub with a mixture of triumph and fear. No one liked being humiliated in public, but if the plan had succeeded, it would have been Cassandra who would have had the ultimate humiliation.
“I think William is deceiving that young woman. I can’t read him clearly, but he is a selfish person. If it suits his plans, he will drop her as quickly as he took her up.”
“I agree.” Nathaniel sounded thoughtful. “I don’t think this will be the only plan William has for this holiday. The brooch was his opening salvo.”
“I fear you are right. I don’t want to leave Cassandra for one moment.” He turned to confront his brother, graver featured, lighter in eye color and with the short-cropped hair of the Roundhead, but unmistakably his brother. They shared the long, aristocratic nose, the high cheekbones and the full mouths of the Heatheringtons.
Nathaniel smiled, thin lipped. “Never fear. I will follow him, and observe. He means evil, and this house has seen too much of that.”
Reassured, Vernon turned back to his love. Pregnancy had brought a bloom to her face, or perhaps it was the certainty that had done it. She would have someone to love now, something of him. She had whispered as much to him one night before she slept, and choked with tears, Vernon had stayed watching her all night. Ghosts didn’t need sleep. He never slept, or took any rest. Perhaps this melancholy joy would fade a little, but he doubted it. Sad that he couldn’t be with her, overjoyed that he’d had the opportunity to love her, and that she now knew for sure that he loved her.
* * * * *
Cassandra’s efforts to lure Edward into the study met with failure throughout the Christmas period. On Christmas Day, when he’d presented her with a gaudy, too expensive necklace of diamonds and topazes. She had thanked him, then asked him once again for five minutes of his time, but he had declined, moving on to joke and drink with his friends.
William kept her husband inebriated all day, dragging him into discussions, dances and even an impromptu ball, with musicians hastily employed from the village, and just as hastily dismissed when it became apparent that they didn’t know what a waltz was, much less play one.
They were due to leave on the day after Twelfth Night, on to another house party not so far distant. It might as well have been the moon for all the chance Cassandra had of getting her husband to sign the all-important document that awaited him in the study.
William had left Cassandra alone, apart from the occasional sneer, and assiduously applied himself to Miss Lockwood, who, as it turned out, was a considerable heiress. Cassandra had that relief, at least.
There had been a few inc
idents, but none she hadn’t spotted and neutralized. A slippery rug at the top of the stairs, a chair with a loose leg, but that was all. Now she knew for sure that William meant her harm, she was on her guard.
After a raucous, exhausting Christmas and New Year, Cassandra determined to get the all-important signature. Accordingly, she sat up late, waiting for the sounds of revelry below to cease, or at least pall. By two in the morning, the racket continued unabated, and Cassandra reached for her robe.
Already in her nightwear, the robe was old, heavy and shabby, but it covered her from head to foot. She didn’t need to wait long before her husband staggered out of the dining room, bleary eyes and with his arm around one of the female guests.
When he saw Cassandra, he pulled the woman closer. “Evenin’ m’dear. Lolly here’s just seein’ me to my room.”
Cassandra gave Lolly an indifferent glance. Another blowsy woman with a deep cleavage and skimpy muslin gown. Married to a member of society, but a whore for all that. She’d seen too many of them in her house for another to evince much interest.
“I would appreciate a few moments of your time first. Don’t worry—I won’t keep you long.” It didn’t matter who he had his arm around. The chances of him performing tonight were less probable than they had been when she’d seen him last.
Edward waved her away. Fury took her. His lack of simple courtesy, his disregard, his lack of any consideration, all seemed designed to drive her to anger. Well finally, it had succeeded.
Without considering what it might do to her current plans, she angrily strode forward and shook her finger under his nose. A shame he was considerably taller than she was, but in this mood, she cared for nothing. He had struck her before, but if he did so again she would strike back. Whatever it cost her.
“Don’t take that tone with me! I’m your wife and I deserve a little respect, especially now! Edward Rustead, you will come with me now and sign what I need you to sign. Then you can do what the hell you like, but you will sign the documents you promised to before you leave this house!”
He stared at her, bemusement filling his soft, brown eyes. The bloodied streaks leading from them across the whites of his eyes were deeper, she thought, and perhaps permanent now. Her anger ebbing, she felt sorrow for what might have been. At heart, Edward was a gentle man, easily led, but with the stubbornness of the weak. She could have been the one to help him, not his cousin. If she hadn’t been so young, so taken up with her own disappointment in him, she could have made something of this marriage.
The failure was partly her fault. Instantly she heard the voice in her head. You never stood a chance, my love. William had his claws into Edward long before you arrived.
Why hasn’t he killed him already?
The thought came from somewhere deep inside herself, something she had never even thought of before.
Because William’s father was alive then, came the instant response. William depended on him and he was an honorable man. William’s father had been dead for seven years now. Cassandra realized time was short. He’d been leading his cousin into dangerous situations for all that time, and there wasn’t much time left before Edward would succumb to an infuriated husband, a challenge on the gaming tables, or illness brought on by excessive drinking.
She grabbed Edward’s free arm and tugged. To her relief he followed her, allowing her to lead him like a lapdog. They left Lolly behind, staring after them, her face twisted in an emotion Cassandra didn’t care to interpret.
His study was on the same floor as the dining room, but at the other end of the corridor. At one point, Cassandra felt him pulling back, as they passed from the bright light to the dimmer light beyond, but he jerked, as though pushed, and stumbled after her.
Under her hand his arm felt soft and flabby, very different to the firm muscle she’d felt on his ancestor on her one night of glory. Determinedly pushing the thought aside she led her husband into the study where lights already burned in the pair of candlesticks on the desk. Without letting him go, she crossed the room to the desk and pulled out the top drawer where the papers lay ready.
“You have to sign these, my dear, then I’ll help you to your room, if you wish.”
“What are they?” he mumbled.
She dipped a quill in the inkpot and handed it to him. He folded his plump fingers around the stem unsteadily. “I need to order feed for the cows on the Home Farm. That kind of thing.” She thrust the first paper under the pen and he scrawled his name. She let out a breath and guided his hand to the second place, silently praying that he was too drunk to read. He scribbled once more.
Five signatures later they were done. Cassandra finally released her hold on his left arm, and dusted sand over the wet ink. “Thank you my dear. I’ll be able to meet your bills now.”
She had no compunction in lying to him when she remembered the tiny being lying in her body. Her child, boy or girl, would be able to salvage something from the wreckage.
She watched Edward weave his way across the room and leave. Only when the door had closed behind him did she say, “Did you see that? You saw him sign the documents?”
“Yes, my lady.”
A maid and a footman moved away from the heavy drapes, where they had been concealed. Cassandra had bribed them by promising she would continue to employ them once they were married. That wasn’t usual for servants, but she was glad to offer jobs to loyal and hardworking people.
She dipped the pen in the inkwell and they signed under Edward’s name, witnesses to his signature, making the documents legal beyond doubt. At least, that was what the man of business she had consulted last week had told her. A local man, not the London lawyer Edward usually employed. She would send copies to the London firm in the morning, the copies Edward had unwittingly signed, but the originals would be safely concealed.
She was safe now, as long as Edward lived, but his appearance this time had shocked her. He was a wreck. His flesh trembled, his mouth hung slackly, his complexion was marred by signs of dissipation, pimples from lack of proper food, lines from too many late nights, mottled from the heavy drinking that was slowly destroying him. She feared he wouldn’t last much longer.
When he was dead, William would turn on her. She knew it. I’m afraid he will, but you will not be alone. What you have done tonight will help you and our child immeasurably. We will be here, my love. Always.
We?
Nathaniel is here, too.
Yes, of course. She was glad he wasn’t alone, but she wanted to be the person to be with him.
One day. Every day their reunion crept closer.
Chapter Five
Edward had unknowingly given Cassandra power of attorney. She now had the means to improve her life and plan for the future. She would have reminded him of his promise, that when she began to increase he would give her more control of the household, but she knew William would never allow it. These days, Edward discussed everything with his cousin.
When she heard of the impending nuptials of William and Miss Lockwood, she used her pregnancy as an excuse not to travel to London for the wedding, but she couldn’t escape the bridal visit.
This time it was just the three of them. Edward, William and the new Mrs. Heatherington.
Cassandra stood in the hall to receive them while Vernon and Nathaniel stood by her side. She couldn’t sense Nathaniel’s presence at all, but Vernon assured her he was present. The only sense she had of Vernon was his voice in her head. Nothing else, no feeling when he was nearby. She wasn’t sure if that made matters better or worse. To know when he was close and not be able to reach out for him might be torture past bearing.
Edward shambled in behind the newly married couple, who entered as though the house was theirs already. Cassandra made a point of greeting him first, and the servants, who were now all her own, the spies dismissed, followed her lead.
Edward beamed at her. “You’re looking well, Cassie. Been keeping well?”
“Yes, very well.�
� She watched the surreptitious glances at her softly rounded belly. The new style for flat fronted gowns that were fuller at the back gently accentuated her pregnancy. She had invested in some new clothes, but they were not extravagant, like the silks Mrs. Heatherington sported. For all that, Cassandra was the countess, not William’s wife, and if she had anything to do with it, that would be how it continued.
“Not doing too much?”
“No indeed.” Warmth spread through her when she realized Edward’s solicitous words were the first concern he had shown her for years. He had killed the love she thought she had felt for him, but friendship might be possible. If she could separate him from his cousin. If he lived long enough. Perhaps she could use the child to draw him to her side.
A pang of jealousy swept through her and she knew it was not entirely her own. Hopelessly she wondered how they would cope, but she forced the thought aside. Her first thoughts these days were always for her child. No melancholy, no malingering. She had to be strong for him, or her.
She felt a slight withdrawal, and wondered why, but she couldn’t concentrate on Vernon now. After placing her hand on her husband’s flabby arm, she drew him forward. “Welcome home, my lord. Do you stay long?”
“Not long. I’m lending the happy couple the lodge in Leicestershire for a while, so we decided to drop in here on the way to see how you were doing.”
Something perked up in her mind. There was something wrong with this casual disclaimer. At the same time she heard in her mind, William is planning something.
She turned slowly and greeted the happy couple, doing her best to remind them they were guests here.
It didn’t help. Over the next few days, the new Mrs. Heatherington must have examined every inch of the house. More than once Cassandra had cause to thank the fact that the servants were now hers, and either loyal or indifferent. No doubt after her guests had left she would have to re-examine them and see who William had bribed.
She came across the lady in an upstairs corridor, far from the guest bedroom she had allotted them. One of the large doors to a linen cupboard lay open and Mrs. Heatherington held a pillowcase in her hand. Cassandra caught her breath. That cupboard was full of delicate crystal, which the servants had packed away the moment they had seen the crested carriage in the drive.
Hosts to Ghosts Box Set Page 5
