The Pilfered Plume

by Sandra Heath

  “I know how much I owe you tonight.”

  “Consider your gratitude properly expressed.”

  She glanced down at the ring on her finger, and slowly removed it, putting it in her reticule. “I really believed he loved me.”

  “So did Judith, which is where the trouble began,” he observed.

  She looked out of the carriage window. They were driving down John Street past the gates of Fane House and the crescent. Nicholas looked out as well, and could just make out the statue of his grandfather in the sunken garden. “Linnet, I trust my actions tonight have restored a little of my apparently lost honor as far as you’re concerned.” He was remembering hearing her great-aunt’s scathing condemnation in that very garden.

  “What you did tonight was very gallant,” she said slowly.

  “But?” He caught the slight note of qualification in her response.

  “Well, maybe you’re going to explain it to me sometime, but until you do I still have no reason to think you acquired Radleigh Hall honestly a year ago. It seems to me that you stole it from my uncle, and that is what I must believe.”

  The reply caught him on the raw, and he gave a bitter laugh. “After all this, you still refuse to give me the benefit of the doubt about that? There was nothing dishonest about the way I acquired that estate, nothing illegal or underhand, and at this very moment, when I’ve just told you I intend to explain everything, I bitterly resent your repeated accusation!”

  “My uncle said…”

  “Joseph Carlisle said a great many things, God rot his pernicious soul! If ever a man deserved to be called out, he did, but his demise spared me the trouble.”

  She flinched, and then stiffened. How dared he speak so disparagingly of her uncle! “How easy it is to lay the blame on the dead, my lord,” she said coldly.

  His eyes were steel-bright in the light of a street lamp. “And how easy it always is for you always to attach blame to me! I’m not the devil on your shoulder, Linnet Carlisle, for you’re your own devil! I begin to wish I’d left you to stew tonight, for you damn well deserve it!”

  The carriage was slowing to negotiate the corner into Charles Street, and then slowed still more to turn beneath the gateway into the courtyard of Carlisle House.

  Linnet was more distressed than ever. The humiliation of what had happened at Portman Street, and the uncertainty of her own feelings toward this man who was with her now, were added to now by the fierce resentment aroused by his uncalled-for insinuations about Joseph Carlisle.

  The carriage swayed to a standstill before the house, and she made to alight before him, but he forestalled her, climbing down into the rain first and then holding out his hand to assist her.

  Unwillingly, she accepted the hand, and as she did so his fingers closed harshly over hers, pulling her almost roughly down from the carriage, then he seized her by both arms, forcing her to look at him.

  “I’ve had enough of you and your obstinate and unjustified accusations, Linnet, and since Gresham no longer has a place in the scheme of things, I think after all that it’s time you were put right once and for all about what happened a year ago. I meant to tell you when first you returned, but not once I realized Gresham’s scheming paws were ready to seize everything. Now it’s obviously necessary to bring the whole thing to a close, and to that end you’ll be hearing from my lawyer in the morning. When you hear what he has to say, and read certain papers in his keeping, I trust you’ll understand why I’ve behaved as I have. You may then live with your conscience, Miss Carlisle, and I hope both you and it can stand the stifling boredom!” His glance moved contemptuously over her, taking in her flushed and angry face, and the shocking impropriety of the citrus-yellow gown. “You’ve behaved very badly indeed tonight, madam,” he said softly, “you’ve risked everything for the paltry chance of getting even with a woman like Judith Jordan. Well, since you wish to emulate one of her kind, I may as well treat you accordingly.”

  He pulled her close, forcing his lips brutally down upon hers. His hand moved intimately over her as he pressed her body against his, and he used no gentleness as he compelled her to submit. The rain was wet on her skin, and her hair clung to her face and shoulders. She hardly felt the moisture soaking through the thin silk of her gown, for she was only aware of the intoxicating sensuality that stirred inexorably through her, even though he used her so harshly. Her senses were spinning now, and all thought of resistance dissolved into nothing. She suddenly knew her heart once and for all; she did still love him, and that was all that mattered. But as she made to tell him, he froze the words on her lips.

  With a cold laugh, he drew deliberately away. “You’re mine still, aren’t you, my dear? And I rather fancy you always will be.”

  The chill in his voice made her shiver, and she searched his face. “Nicholas…?”

  “Spare me your confusion, for if that is what you feel at this moment, it’s as nothing to the way you made me feel a year ago when you came to me with your despicable accusations. I was innocent on all counts, but you challenged me to disprove what you so obviously believed I’d done. Well, tonight you’ve accused me for the last time, for I want nothing more to do with you. I trust that this will be our final parting, and that I never again have the misfortune to encounter you.”

  He turned and climbed back into the carriage, slamming the door behind him. A moment later the team was straining forward, taking the vehicle away into the rain and darkness.

  She stood there numbly. If he’d physically struck her she could not have felt more full of pain and shock.

  “Miss Linnet?” Mary came to her, for the maid had been waiting discreetly in the doorway from the moment the carriage had arrived.

  Slowly, Linnet turned to face her.

  The maid gently took her arm. “Come inside out of the rain, miss.”

  Linnet allowed her to lead her into the house, where she saw Venetia waiting in the hall.

  Chapter 25

  Sommers was waiting to close the doors, and he was thunderstruck to see the complete disarray his mistress was in. Venetia hurried over, her hazel eyes large with concern, then she nodded at the butler.

  “Bring a warm restorative drink to the drawing room immediately.”

  “My lady.” He bowed, and hastened away.

  Venetia turned to Mary. “Bring Miss Carlisle’s warmest wrap to the drawing room, and be quick about it.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Gathering her skirts, the maid almost ran to the staircase.

  Venetia then took Linnet’s cold arm. “Come and sit down, then you can tell me what’s happened.”

  Linnet allowed herself to be ushered toward the drawing room, where the chandelier cast a soft glow, and the curtains had been drawn to shut out the appalling night. She hesitated, turning to Venetia. “Where is my aunt?”

  “She apparently sent word earlier that she intended to spend the night at Lady Anne’s, which is why I felt at liberty to wait here for you. Do you want me to send for her?”

  “No!” The word came out sharply, and Linnet said it again, but more quietly. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

  Venetia looked anxiously at her. “Has something dreadful happened? You look so—so…”

  Linnet didn’t reply, for at that moment Mary hurried into the room with the wrap. She stood quietly as the maid unhooked her wet gown, allowing it to slither to the floor, and thus the black plume was revealed, still tucked carefully into place beneath the garter. The glittering feather was crumpled and damp, but it was still very beautiful indeed, and still quite obviously the property of London’s most notorious courtesan.

  Venetia gasped as she saw it. “So, you did succeed after all! I thought when you came in that all was lost. What do you intend to do with it now? Just send it back, as you said originally?”

  “I really haven’t thought about it,” answered Linnet quietly, for it was true. Since the moment Nicholas had seized her in Judith’s bedroom, her mind had seemed to be in utter c
haos. She bent to retrieve the plume, tossing it onto a nearby table. It lay there sadly, its shaft broken and its sequins winking in the light from the chandelier.

  Venetia and the maid exchanged uneasy glances as Linnet then donned the wrap, but nothing more was said because at that moment Sommers knocked at the door to say that he had brought the hot drink, as Venetia had requested.

  As the butler came in with a glass of hot, spiced milk which he placed on a table, Linnet withdrew a little, observing Venetia and Mary. Could it really be that one of them had betrayed her? Her glance lingered on the maid, so loyal and supportive throughout the past year. Surely she couldn’t have changed so drastically that she’d give her mistress into the hands of an enemy like the Bird of Paradise? And what of Venetia? What possible reason could she have for such treachery? Her delight about the match with Benedict had been too genuine and honest. She quite evidently looked forward to having her closest friend as a sister-in-law, so it was inconceivable that she’d so calculatingly set about ruining that same friend. Or was it inconceivable? Linnet’s head was spinning with doubts and confusion, and she didn’t know what to think anymore.

  Sommers was looking at her. “Will there be anything else, madam?”

  “No. Thank you.” Linnet nodded at Mary as well. “You may go.”

  “But, miss, your hair…”

  “Can wait.”

  “Yes, miss.” The maid curtsied quickly, and then hurried out after the butler.

  The door closed, and Linnet and Venetia were alone.

  Venetia went to sit down on a sofa, her hands clasped neatly in her lap. Her gown was made of a striking rose satin, and her hair was concealed by a matching turban. A choker of pearls graced her slender throat, and she looked very lovely as she smiled at Linnet.

  “What happened tonight? You have the plume, so I know you gained admittance.”

  “Oh, yes, I gained admittance,” replied Linnet softly.

  “And? Oh, don’t be so infuriating!”

  Linnet faced her. “My every move was anticipated, Venetia. Judith Jordan knew exactly what I was planning.”

  Venetia’s eyes widened. “But that cannot possibly be so!”

  “I’m afraid it was very much so. Someone saw to it that I walked into a trap tonight, and if Nicholas hadn’t rescued me when he did, that trap would have caught me. Only you and Mary knew every detail of my plan,” she added reluctantly.

  “And I am more likely to be the guilty party than your maid?” Venetia leapt indignantly to her feet.

  “No, of course not,” replied Linnet, going to pick up the glass of hot milk. “I’m merely telling you what happened, which is, as I recall, what you wished to know.”

  Venetia became a little more collected. “I swear to you that I didn’t divulge a word. What possible reason could I have?”

  Linnet gave a small, rueful smile. “None, I suppose. And the same could be said of Mary.”

  “Linnet, forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but servants can be bought. Someone has only to offer them a plump purse, and their tongues rattle willingly.”

  Linnet nodded. “Yes, but I can’t believe Mary would do it.” She looked quickly at Venetia. “Just as I can’t believe you would, either. Nicholas pointed out that there was the hackney coachman, and Mary’s cousin, who suggested the coachman…”

  “My wager would still be on Mary herself. Think about it, if Judith Jordan knew your every move, presumably she had to know what you’d look like tonight. Well, she would, wouldn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  “The hackney coachman could hardly know that until you were actually in his coach. The same applies to your maid’s cousin. But if you think about Mary herself, she knew all the details of appearance, didn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  Venetia came to put a gentle hand on her arm. “I know that I knew it all, too, but I have no reason whatsoever for wishing to harm you. You’re my dearest friend, and soon you’ll be my sister as well.”

  Linnet pulled slowly away, drawing a shaky breath. “No, Venetia, I’m afraid I won’t be your sister, after all.”

  “Won’t be? But…why not?” Venetia looked at her in astonishment.

  “Because first thing in the morning, I will be sending Benedict’s ring back.”

  “But, why?”

  “He was at the ball in Portman Street, not at any dinner in East India House, and what’s more, he was with Judith Jordan in her bedroom.”

  Venetia was thunderstruck, so much so that for a moment it seemed she would faint. She turned weakly away, returning to the sofa. Her hands clasped and unclasped in her lap, and it was a while before she recovered sufficiently to look at Linnet. “I can’t believe it. You must have seen someone else, someone who looked like him.”

  “I wasn’t mistaken, Venetia, it was definitely him. He and that woman have been lovers for some time, it seems. I now know from Nicholas that I was courted simply because of my fortune, because contrary to Benedict’s claims, he has no wealth due to him from India, but has monstrous debts that must be settled if he’s to stay out of jail.”

  Venetia’s face had drained of all color, and her shock was so evident that it was plain she’d had no knowledge at all about the truth concerning her half-brother. “You—you actually saw him with her? Beyond all shadow of doubt?” she asked in a barely audible voice.

  “Yes. They shared an exceeding passionate kiss.”

  “So, it has been because of Benedict, not Nicholas, that that woman has been singling you out?”

  “It seems so. Her intention tonight was apparently not only to ruin me by exposing my presence at such an occasion, but also to flaunt her hold upon him. I don’t know why she did it, since she’d obviously been going along with it all until now, but I do know that, by the look on his face, the last thing he wanted was for the match to be snatched from under his nose.”

  “I knew nothing about all this, Linnet, you must believe me.”

  “I know you didn’t.”

  “He’s my half-brother, but I’ve really only known him for this past year or so. We may have been under the same roof, but we led separate lives. I believed him when he spoke of his Indian fortune.” Venetia gave a wry smile. “Your great-aunt didn’t, though, did she?”

  “No.” Linnet sipped the glass of milk. “I truly meant to make him happy, and I know that in the end, if he’d been as he seemed to be, I would have loved him. You do know what I mean, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do know, and I also know, with hindsight, that this break with Benedict is a blessing in disguise for you. Just think how it would have been if the marriage had gone ahead, and then you’d found out about his liaison with the Bird of Paradise.”

  Linnet smiled a little, finishing the glass of milk. “Well, he may have fooled me, but fate meant me to escape.”

  “He’ll be given his marching orders from Fane Crescent, of that you may be sure,” declared Venetia firmly, a hint of bitterness in her voice. “I truly trusted him, and I thought you and he would be perfect together. I only hope you can forgive me for so diligently promoting the match.”

  “Of course I can.” Linnet replaced the glass on the tray, and then crossed the room, holding back one of the curtains to look out at the darkness and the endless rain. Rivulets washed miserably down the glass, and the street lamps of Charles Street were distorted.

  “How will you announce the ending of the engagement?” asked Venetia, watching her.

  “I don’t know, but it will be done tactfully, of that you may be sure. I don’t wish to offend you in any way, or cause you any distress.”

  Venetia smiled. “Thank you.”

  Linnet gazed at the rain, remembering the bitterness of her last parting from Nicholas. “Tonight, when Nicholas…”

  “Yes?”

  Linnet lowered the curtain, turning to face her. “When he kissed me by the carriage, it was all suddenly so very clear. It didn’t matter what may or may not have happened i
n the past, all that mattered was that I loved him. I was going to tell him, but then he cast me aside, because he said I’d questioned his honor once too often for him ever to wish to see me again.”

  Venetia’s eyes were intent. “Perhaps it’s for the best. It may all seem hopeless now, but you’ll find someone else, and then you’ll be truly happy.”

  “But, I don’t want anyone else, Venetia. I love Nicholas, and I have from the moment I first met him. If only I’d behaved with more circumspection and sensitivity in the past, if only I’d thought less of my apparently injured pride and more of what my heart was telling me, then none of this would have happened.”

  Venetia was silent for a moment. “What do you intend to do?”

  “What do you intend to do?” countered Linnet.

  “Me? I—I don’t understand…”

  “This unnamed lover who means so much to you, how much do you want him?”

  “With all my heart,” replied Venetia.

  “Do you intend to win him if you can?”

  “Yes.”

  Linnet smiled. “Then that is what I must do, too. If I let Nicholas slip finally from my life now, I’ll never forgive myself. The man one truly loves is always worth fighting for, isn’t he?”

  Slowly, Venetia nodded. “Oh, yes,” she said softly, “he’s always worth fighting for.”

  “Would it be asking too much for you to stay tonight? It would be comforting to know you’re here.”

  “Yes, of course.” Venetia smiled gently at her.

  Chapter 26

  The resolve to win Nicholas back was still with her the following morning when she awoke after several hours of restless sleep. It had stopped raining outside, and the sun shone into the room as Mary opened the curtains and shutters.

  Linnet sat up in the bed, glancing at the busy maid. She hadn’t sent for her when she’d retired the previous night, and this was her first proper opportunity to speak to her about what had happened. Could Venetia be right about her? Would a fat purse have proved sufficient enticement?

  Mary brought her a dish of tea. “Are you feeling better this morning, Miss Linnet?”