Jo Beverley - [Malloren 01]

by My Lady Notorious

  “I was asleep until you all burst in!”

  “You expect me to believe that a naked man climbed into your bed and half undressed you without you waking up?”

  “Yes, I do. Others may not believe me, but you should, Fort. I’ve always slept sound. Don’t you remember the time you carried me fast asleep into the corridor and put me under the dragon-stand, so I screamed the house down when I woke to find its jaws about to engulf me?”

  A smile twitched his lips. “True, but you were only ten then.”

  “I’m still the same.”

  He frowned over it. “But Henry Vernham could hardly have known that. If you didn’t invite him, he could only expect you to set up a screech, and he’d be a dead man. Look, Chastity,” he said quite kindly, “you doubtless made an error of judgment. No one would condemn you utterly for that, and he is a handsome man if you like that style. But you should have married him. It was your only choice.”

  “Even if he sneaked into my bed with just that plan in mind?”

  “How could he know he’d be interrupted, or that Father would take the kinder view and think of marriage?”

  Because Father arranged it so, Chastity wanted to scream, but Fort would never believe it. “He had offered for me and been approved by Father.”

  “Because you wanted him. You can’t play hot and cold, my girl.”

  “Who said I wanted him?”

  “Father.”

  “Father was—” She bit back the word. “He was mistaken. Oh, Fort, believe me. Why would I want to marry Vernham? I don’t find him handsome, and he didn’t even have wealth and a title to sugar the dish.”

  He frowned, and she thought she had finally made an impression. “Are you saying you’re still untouched?”

  She opened her mouth to say yes, but then closed it and swallowed. She’d give up the past night to be able to say yes, but her innocence was gone. “No,” she whispered.

  She saw the pained disappointment set on his face. “But not Vernham?” he commented bitingly. “How busy you’ve been. Who then had the honor of my sister’s deflowering? Give me a name and I’ll see him dead.”

  “I can’t.”

  He grabbed her. “A name!”

  She stayed mute. He shook her, then threw her onto the floor. “Did you roll in the hedgerow with a stranger, then? How many have there been since? God, you sicken me! Where did you come from, to be like this?”

  He loomed over her, rage darkening his face, hands in big fists capable of smashing her bones. She thought he’d thrash her. Then he turned and slammed out of the room. She heard the key turn. She sank her head in her hands.

  Unless her father condemned himself in his own words, neither Fort nor anyone else would believe the tale. It was just too incredible. She almost doubted it herself.

  And now she had to worry about Cyn. If his part in this mess ever came out, Fort would tear him apart.

  She had to get away. She doubted she could hold out against her father again, and she mustn’t let Cyn’s name pass her lips. She checked the chimney, but as she’d thought, it was too narrow. Only the smallest climbing boy could work his way up there.

  Without much hope she considered the door. A squint down the keyhole showed the key was still in there, but she doubted it would do her much good. To test her hypothesis she knocked on the door.

  “Yes, milady,” said a man quite respectfully. As she’d thought, there was a guard at both window and door.

  “I would like something to drink,” she said, to explain her action.

  “Right,” the man said, but he didn’t leave. She heard him call out. “Oy, Jackie, Lady Chastity wants a drink.”

  Within minutes, they brought Chastity a wooden beaker of water, and some biscuits. No plate. They were being careful not to give her anything that could be of use.

  Alone again, Chastity regarded a Shrewsbury biscuit sadly, and ate it slowly in tribute to Cyn Malloren. It wasn’t as good as the fresh ones they had bought in Shaftesbury, but the memories were sweet.

  Thinking of Cyn stirred her spirit. She wasn’t the bewildered girl of months ago, when last she had been her father’s prisoner. Her experiences had toughened her, but it was Cyn Malloren who had lit her spirit. She knew now she had a right to be strong, a right to be angry.

  Unfortunately, that didn’t stop her from being afraid. She knew her father was a man to be feared. When she had opposed him over her marriage, she had not realized the lengths he would go, the depths of his cruelty. She had survived by a kind of numb fatalism. Now, she trembled every time she thought of being once more in his power.

  She hated to just wait, so she prowled the room again, but found no escape. She remembered Fort’s comment about clothes and knew she would be forced to change, doubtless into some ugly, penitential clothing. That made her think of Lady Trelyn’s letter. She certainly didn’t want it to be found on her. Her heart almost stopped at the thought of those explanations.

  Listening desperately for approaching footsteps, she looked for a hiding place in the stark room. There were no loose floor-boards, no nooks and crannies. She began to think of trying to eat the thing, but then she found that the wooden mantelpiece had pulled a little from the wall, leaving a gap. Shuddering with relief, she forced the letter into the space.

  She would retrieve it if she could do so safely, but if not it could stay there, doubtless to titillate some householder in years to come.

  She wondered sickly if there was any possibility of Fort recognizing her as his dancing partner of the night before. That would be her end for sure. How could she explain her presence at what was doubtless the most notorious orgy of the decade?

  She checked all her pockets again, making sure they held nothing to make matters worse. Satisfied at last, she sat and leaned her head against a wall. It was chill in the room and she was glad of the groom’s clothes over Victor’s. She wished she had the riding cloak too. It was very quiet. She wondered what time it was, and after a while, heard a distant clock chime two.

  With luck, Cyn and Nathaniel were on their way, but in case they had been delayed, she must hold out as long as possible. She’d ridden hard the day before and missed sleep last night. Despite her fears, she dozed off. She dreamed of a shipwreck, of being thrown this way and that . . .

  “Plague take you, Chastity. Wake up!”

  She blinked her eyes open to find Fort shaking her, and more with concern than anger. When he saw she was awake, he let her go.

  “You really do sleep sound, don’t you?” He looked thoughtful. Perhaps he was beginning to believe part of her story. She had little thought for that now. Her father was here, Lindle at his shoulder. She scrambled to her feet.

  The Earl of Walgrave had married late in life and was now over sixty, but he was a robust, impressive man with shrewd blue eyes, a noble nose, and fleshy jowls. He was dressed plainly for traveling in brown velvet, lightly laced with gold, and a gray bagwig, but simplicity did not diminish his presence. He filled the room. He carried an elaborate but light gold-headed bamboo cane. Chastity remembered that cane.

  “Thank you, Thornhill,” said the earl coolly. “You may leave.”

  Chastity flung Fort an appeal with her eyes.

  Perhaps he noted it. He still looked thoughtful. “I’d like to stay, sir. If, as you think, she knows where Verity is, I’d like to be the first to learn it. Heaven knows what perils my poor sister may be risking.”

  “Heaven, and any man of experience,” commented the earl in his mellow voice. He sounded calm, but Chastity could tell he was displeased by this development. She knew then that her instinct had been correct. Despite his violence, despite the fact that he now thought her wanton, Fort was her security in this situation.

  The earl took two majestic steps forward until he stood before her, then rested his hands on the knob of his cane. “You sadden me, daughter. I confess, I am at a loss. To see you here in such shameless garments, running from the protection of your home . . . And
I fear you have infected Verity with your wickedness. You have not come here in search of your sister. You have brought her here in a petty attempt to spite me.”

  Chastity was as terrified as she had expected to be, but she found she wasn’t paralyzed by her father anymore. Her wits were still working. Her hope here was to make her father reveal something to Fort.

  “Why would my bringing Verity here spite you, Father?”

  A slight narrowing of his eyes and mouth acknowledged the change in her, but he lost none of his dignity. “For my dear daughter to go anywhere for help other than to me is a blow. I can believe that Vernham may have done something to make Verity flee her home, but surely she fled to Walgrave Towers to seek my aid. It was you, you unfortunate creature, who persuaded her to this mad enterprise. What did you hope to gain?”

  Chastity almost fell into the clever trap and admitted the plan. “I came to Maidenhead,” she parried, “because I knew if Verity went anywhere other than Walgrave Towers it would be here, to the man she has always loved. Perhaps she thought you would yet again prevent her from marrying him.”

  “Prevent?” queried the earl in astonishment. “She chose freely to marry Sir William.”

  “Freely?” Chastity scoffed. “You bullied her into it, you hypocrite, just as you tried to bully me into marrying his brother!”

  The earl shook his head sadly. “Come here and present your right hand, palm up.”

  Chastity felt a chill run through her. She’d played into his hands. Before her masquerade as a boy, before her freewheeling time with Cyn Malloren, she would never have spoken to her father thus in any circumstances. But she’d known it would come to the cane sooner or later.

  “Father,” said Fort in muted protest, though Chastity could see he was shocked by her words.

  “My dear boy,” said the earl sadly, “she is wild and growing wilder. I cannot permit it. It pains me to beat her, but you see for yourself that gentler means are useless.” He looked at Chastity again. “Obey, or you will be forced.”

  She obeyed, but he was trying to pretend this was a new development and she wouldn’t allow that, no matter what it cost her. “It’s all right, Father,” she said pertly, “You taught me the rules while you were trying to beat me into marrying your friend Henry Vernham. I haven’t forgotten.”

  She walked forward and held out her hand, cursing the fact that it trembled. It hadn’t shaken the first time. She hadn’t known then how much it would hurt.

  The cane slashed down and fire leaped across her palm. She clutched it to her chest, fighting tears.

  “Let us hope there will be no more impudence,” said the earl. “You are never to question my righteousness as a parent. Never. Now, you will tell me where Verity is.”

  “I don’t know.”

  She saw him register her honesty, but he was a shrewd man. He put the knob of the cane under her chin to force her eyes to meet his. “You will tell me then where you saw her last.”

  She hesitated and knew it. “At Easter at Walgrave Towers.”

  The earl turned to his son. “She’s lying.”

  “Yes,” said Fort. “For God’s sake, Chastity, why are you doing this? Verity could be in terrible danger, and her child even more so. Tell us, so we can protect her.”

  Chastity gave up the pretense. “Only if Father promises to let her marry Nathaniel.”

  “What nonsense,” the earl said. “There is no question of any marriage until her year of mourning is up.”

  She forced herself to look unflinchingly into his eyes. “Promise that you will permit it then.”

  Red touched his cheeks, a flare of warning. “I will promise nothing. Do you seek to bargain with me, you impudent hussy? You will tell me your sister’s whereabouts simply out of filial obedience, and trust me to arrange her welfare.”

  “As when you married her to Vernham?” she sneered.

  “Extend your right hand.”

  Chastity’s lips trembled as she obeyed. The cane slashed down on the previous welt, and a cry escaped her.

  The earl fell silent. Chastity waited. Clutching her burning hand, tears running down her cheeks. She knew it could only get worse. This was nothing, but it didn’t feel like nothing. How long could she hold out before telling all? How much of a start did Cyn and Nathaniel need? She glanced at Fort, wondering if he would help her, but she had lost him again when he realized she did know Verity’s whereabouts.

  Why, she wondered, was her father so desperate to find Verity? Simply from the need to control? It was possible, and yet her instinct said no. This desperate search had the same strangeness as Verity’s marriage to Sir William, and Chastity’s proposed one to Henry Vernham. Something underlay all of it.

  Unlikely as it seemed, Vernham must have had a hold over the Earl of Walgrave.

  What? What?

  Fort came over and took her stinging hand in a gentle hold. He moved her a little way from their father, which was a good sign. “Hurts like the devil, doesn’t it? Do you mean he did this to try to force you to marry Vernham?”

  “And other things . . .” Chastity looked over to where the earl was talking quietly with Lindle. That boded no good. “Fort,” she said quietly, “there’s something wrong about this, something that doesn’t make sense.”

  “Perhaps,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t affect the fact that we have to find Verity.”

  “She’s safe,” she assured him. “Honestly. Staying with a very pleasant and proper family.”

  Lindle left the room, and Walgrave came over to Chastity and Fort. “Has she told you?” he asked. “Often a little kindness after harshness works wonders.”

  “She says Verity is safe with a proper family.”

  Chastity flicked Fort a glance, but knew that this maneuver hadn’t been planned, at least on his part.

  “Indeed,” said the earl. “That relieves my paternal anxiety considerably. It will only be assuaged, however, when I am able to clasp my eldest daughter and my only grandchild to my heart. The direction, please.”

  Chastity shook her head.

  “And why are you intent on keeping Verity from me?”

  Chastity knew it was impossible to answer that question without offending his righteousness as a parent. Though it took more courage than she knew she possessed, she extended her poor, abused hand.

  The earl raised his cane, but only to put it under her trembling hand, rubbing gently against the knuckles. “You, I fear, are possessed of a devil, and it will take more time than we have here to drive it from you. Fear not, I will attend to it in time.” He let that promise sink home. “But my sweet Verity? What has caused her to so distrust her father? Eh?”

  Chastity was keyed up for pain, would almost welcome it to have it over with.

  “Well?” asked the earl. “Tell me how you turned Verity against me.”

  “She needed no turning,” said Chastity. “She did not flee to Walgrave Towers, but to the cottage. She had no desire to seek your help.”

  Still the blow did not come. She knew this trick too. This waiting, which was almost worse than the pain.

  The earl had explained it to her once during those terrible days. When he’d given in to rage and beaten her severely, the effect had been strange. It had fed her numb strength and he knew it.

  “Brutality drives some people beyond reach,” he had said. “It also leaves evidence that can be inconvenient. On the other hand, quite small amounts of pain can break a strong man if properly applied.”

  Now the earl put the cane softly on her palm and rubbed with it. She gritted her teeth against the sting. “And why did Verity have no desire to seek my help?”

  Verity had cut herself off from her father because of his treatment of Chastity, and only secondarily because he would oppose her marriage to Nathaniel. Chastity could tell him this, but an intensity in the earl’s manner caught her. What made this question so important? Would he say something revealing?

  He tapped the cane on her hand, de
manding an answer.

  At the third tap, Chastity’s nerve broke. “Because of how you treated me.”

  He studied her searchingly, then used the cane to push her hand down and walked away. Chastity’s knees almost gave way, but she remained standing, knowing it wasn’t over.

  There were no sounds from outside this isolated house, and it felt as if everyone in the room held their breath. Chastity began to count. She had found it the only way to avoid being driven to desperation by her father’s calculated use of silence.

  She had reached sixty-five when the earl turned. “A petty reason for risking her life and that of her child. Very unlike Verity. I fear you must have spun her a tissue of lies. Ah, well, it will become clear when we find her.” The door opened. “And here is Lindle with some more appropriate clothing. We will leave you to change, daughter, and resume our conversation when you have a more fitting appearance.”

  Chastity was beyond reasoning what Fort made of this, but she noted his reluctance to leave her. He was firmly shepherded out. The key turned in the lock and she was alone. She collapsed to sit on the floor and blow on her stinging hand.

  The punishment had been nothing. It hadn’t even been an attempt to force the truth out of her but, as he said, a reaction to her lack of filial respect. But it had also been a way of priming her for what was to come, of reminding her how it had been the last time, when her palms had blistered, and Lindle had held her hands up because she could no longer force herself to do it. When her back, and buttocks, and legs had been a mass of weals.

  And this time it would be worse. It would be worse because he was more ruthless, and more desperate. This time he wouldn’t care if he scarred her, or did her permanent harm. She didn’t know why he was so desperate, but she could sense it. And he would soon be back.

  Chapter 14

  Chastity pushed herself to her feet. This was what her father wanted. He wanted her to be alone in the fading light, growing more fearful by the moment. She needed to do something. She might as well change her clothes. She had no objection to being female again.