by Jo Beverley
With a cheery wave, she sauntered away.
Susan thought of retreating to her rooms to read the letter, but then instead she walked slowly to the headland, into open air and light, to the spot where she’d talked with Con yesterday.
Where for a brief moment they had found accord.
She’d known, she thought bitterly. She’d known that anything carnal would ruin it. But she hadn’t been strong enough to resist.
Like mother, like daughter?
She sat down on the ground, smoothed out the paper, and began to pick out the words.
My dear daughter,
I know the word dear has no real meaning between us, but how else could I open this letter?
A sea voyage, I am discovering, offers a great deal of time for thought, and I have thought that my dearest Mel might disapprove of my taking the means to make this journey, though I have no doubt that he will be delighted to see me.
I have found myself remembering that you said the Dragon’s Horde could be in difficulty due to a lack of funds, and that my son might have to take over control and put himself at great risk. Of course, there is nothing to be done about that now, but . . .
Susan had to turn the first sheet then and concentrate on the different layer of writing. What? Was there another cache of money somewhere?
. . . there is something which might be of assistance. Though you doubtless think me heartless, I am not completely uncaring about the safety of my only son.
You threw up at me the fact that I never married Melchisedeck. I would have you know that this was not my fault, or Mel’s either. Unfortunately, I had a prior marriage. I was wed to the Earl of Wyvern.
Susan tilted the paper to make sure she hadn’t read that amiss. No, that was definitely what it said.
Good Lord! Had her mother, too, run mad?
Wyvern courted me, and I confess that I was drawn to the idea of being a countess. He was not so strange in those days, though strange enough. He already had his obsession with producing an heir, and he actually made to me the proposition which became so infamous later.
That ended the first page, and Susan flipped it over, having to turn it ninety degrees to get the next lines straight. Lady Belle must have realized that her letter would be long, for the writing became cramped and even harder to read.
Of course I refused, but he was so mad for me that he came up with another plan. We would marry secretly, and once I proved to be with child, it would be announced. He even offered me a normal wedding then. I was only seventeen, and I admit I was swayed by that. I have much regretted not being able to marry my dearest Mel in the church with all our friends around.
How was this arranged, you ask?
Yes, thought Susan. I ask! How could her mother, Miss Kerslake of Kerslake Manor, run off to Gretna Green and back and it never be noticed? Lady Belle had assuredly gone mad, or thought Susan a complete idiot to believe this farrago.
But irresistibly, she read on.
The means was so simple I wonder if it is not often done so. James Somerford was mad, but he was by no means stupid. He found a young whore who resembled me and went with her not to Gretna, but to Guernsey, just off the coast, where apparently the same convenience of marriage exists. Wasn’t that clever? There the impostor declared herself to be me, and thus I was married without any inconvenience or discomfort at all!
When he returned with the marriage lines, we commenced our secret marriage, but without sullying your maiden’s ears, daughter, it was not at all to my taste. In fact, it was quite shocking, and when I fled him in the night, I encountered Melchisedeck Clyst. It was a smuggling run, of course, and he kept me by him as he took care of business.
I am afraid, from what I know of you, Susan, that you lack the more sensitive emotions or a passionate heart . . .
“From what you know of me?” Susan muttered, switching to the next sheet. But she was totally caught up in this impossible tale. It was so impossible that she knew it must be true. And it did explain the great mystery of why her parents had not married.
. . . but to one such as myself, there comes a bond that cannot be denied, and that is for life, and such it was for me and Mel. I assure you, nothing short of an overpowering, tumultuous force could have impelled me into the arms of a mere tavernkeeper without the blessings of matrimony!
Susan laughed aloud at that. It was so completely Lady Belle.
Discovering that he was Captain Drake, and that smuggling was profitable, was some solace. It was also to my advantage that he was powerful enough to protect me from James, who could have claimed a husband’s rights.
In brief, Susan, we all three agreed not to mention the marriage. That meant that James would be able to marry another if he managed to get a woman with child. In return for my discretion, James agreed not to interfere between Mel and I, and to protect the Dragon’s Horde, for an outrageous tithe of ten percent of the takings. However, he vowed that if I attempted to go through a ceremony of marriage with Mel he would produce the marriage lines and exert his marital authority over me.
You can imagine that I prayed for a child at Crag Wyvern as ardently as James—except that he did not believe in holy prayer—for then I would have been free and able to openly plight my troth to my dearest Mel. I am a widow now, however, and thus I will do that as soon as I find him.
You see, of course, what this means for you.
“No,” muttered Susan, almost dizzy from this strange story. Or perhaps it was just the strain of reading the crossed writing. She started the third sheet.
By the law, a child born of a marriage is legitimate unless there is evidence to the contrary. James never claimed David, of course, but nor did he deny him or you, and his clear evidence of insanity can doubtless be brought into play there.
For my son’s sake, and to spite James, I admit, I have drawn up the enclosed sworn testimony that my children were fathered by the earl, but that in his insanity he threatened them, leaving me no choice but to give them into the care of relatives. That he then, in his madness, repudiated them.
You may not know, being a mere child at the time, but in the first years of my relationship with Mel, all was in secret. I continued to live at home, going on long visits for my confinements. My parents and older brother hoped I would come to my senses and make a good marriage, you see. Once I was twenty-one, not long after the birth of David, I left my home forever. You will see, however, how this too could support the idea that you and David are the children of my marriage to the mad earl.
If you are wondering about evidence of my whereabouts at the time of the marriage, I went with my old nurse to visit a friend near Lyme Regis. Nurse is long dead, and I doubt anyone can remember the name of the friend. I certainly cannot.
I have no idea if this can be done, but the marriage certificate is somewhere in Crag Wyvern. James would never have destroyed it when it gave him power over us. Perhaps you can use it to make David earl, which would take away the need for him to risk himself as Captain Drake. And you, of course, will be Lady Susan Somerford, and may at last find yourself a husband.
There, I have done my duty to make amends. Do with it as you will.
Lady Belle
Susan sat back half expecting the letter to crumble to dust in her fingers like some mysterious artifact in a gothic novel. But it sat there, presumably still carrying its bizarre message.
David. She shot to her feet. She must speak to David about this!
But then she realized that he would be with Con.
Con.
If she used this information, Con could lose the earldom.
But David as earl would be virtually untouchable. Leaving aside the benefits of rank and fortune, he wouldn’t hang or be transported for smuggling. In fact, this whole area would probably enjoy decades of peace and illegal prosperity.
It wasn’t right to use it. David wasn’t the earl’s son. But it was as tempting as the serpent’s apple.
But Con.
T
hey would be stealing title and fortune from Con.
She should destroy this letter and take the contents to the grave. She began to tear it, but after the tiniest beginning, she paused. Shredding it and burning it wouldn’t scour the knowledge from her mind.
David or Con?
Lies or truth?
Chapter Twenty-two
Truth, she decided.
Once settled, it was so clearly right that Susan could have wept with relief. She could see now that last night with Con had been a web of lies and untruths. Her intentions had not been bad, but all the same, it had been dishonest, and thus had fallen to pieces in her hands.
If she ventured into untruths again, her intentions would not be bad, but she would be back to her old ways, trying to manipulate life to suit her needs. She was through with that.
But then she realized that she really should put this in David’s hands. It wasn’t entirely hers to decide. Whatever David decided, however, she was going to tell Con the truth.
She returned to the house. If David hadn’t left, she should be able to intercept him and talk to him alone.
In fact, she saw him coming out of the arch.
“David!”
As he turned, smiling, she found it easy to smile back. This was right, and it was good to be doing it outside the oppressive house.
“Believe it or not,” she said as she joined him, “I have a letter from Lady Belle.”
“What does she want?” he asked, and it made Susan laugh.
“Oh, she’s all benevolence. Read it!”
He took it, but pulled a squint-eyed face at the writing. “I presume you’ve deciphered this. How about giving me the precis.”
“No, I think you need to read it as given.”
He sighed but then settled to it, complaining, but then falling silent as he reached the revelations. When he’d finished, he stayed silent.
She resisted the urge to demand his answer.
“She really is a most immoral woman,” he said at last. “There’s no trace of hesitation about perpetrating a deception, or making out false testimony.”
“I know. It would be pleasant to discover that she wasn’t our mother, but I’m afraid there’s no hope of that.”
“I’m proud to be Mel’s son, especially now I know why they never married.” He looked at the letter again. “She only sent this because she knew he’d disapprove. A sign of her love, I suppose, but still . . .”
She had to ask. “What are you going to do?”
“Do? Nothing. For heaven’s sake, you didn’t think I’d go along with this, did you? It’s outright fraud!”
Susan was suddenly carried back to last night when she’d taken such fierce offense to Con’s simple query as to whether she had told anyone about their lovemaking. Wrong again. Every step of the way, wrong, wrong, wrong.
She gathered her wits. “No, I didn’t think you would. I hoped not. But I put it in your hands. I do think we need to tell Con, though. The documents might turn up, and I wouldn’t put it past Lady Belle to stir the matter herself later. Now her husband the earl is dead there’s no risk to her in asserting her right to be the countess.”
“Except that letter,” David pointed out. “It admits that we are Mel’s children, and exposes her willingness to lie under oath.”
Their eyes met. “So we have to give it to Con.”
He folded it and gave it to her. “You do it.” He hesitated a moment, then asked, “Can you tell me what lies between you two, Susan? Whatever it is, it isn’t making you happy. I don’t want to be unkind, but you are not looking your best.”
With a sigh, she moved closer. “Give me a hug, David. I need a hug.”
Susan appreciated his strong arms around her, and the certain knowledge that he would stand by her through life even if she continued to fall into follies. She thought soon she would be able to tell him the truth about some of the things she had done. But not yet.
She told him one truth as they parted. “I love him, David. I’ve loved him since I was fifteen years old. But he’s going to marry Lady Anne Peckworth, who I am sure is a lovely lady and will make him very happy.”
“Is it your birth? Is that what stands between you?”
She smiled. “No, of course not. He doesn’t return my love. It happens all the time, I’m sure, and the world doesn’t end.”
“Eleven years, though. I wondered why you hadn’t married. It would seem you share one thing with our mother. Eternal constancy.”
“Hopefully not quite as obsessively. Go along. I’ll give him this letter and tell you his reaction.”
She watched him set off down the hill, then turned to enter the house. She supposed she needed to go dragon hunting. She crossed the courtyard, glancing in the window of the library, and saw Con still there with de Vere and Swann.
There was no great urgency about giving the letter to Con, and yet she felt it. Perhaps she was afraid that she’d weaken and try to persuade David to pursue safety through fraud. She wasn’t entirely sure of her new skin yet.
Perhaps she simply wanted an excuse to be with Con again.
She took up a watching post in the breakfast room, from which she could see the library. She was soon rewarded when he emerged through the doors to the garden, leaving de Vere alone.
She hesitated for a last moment of thought, then hurried out. “Con!”
He turned sharply. She could almost see shields rising. “Susan.”
“I have something I must show you, tell you.”
He took the time to think, and it hurt, but then he said, “Very well.”
She glanced up at all the watching windows. There were few people here now to watch, but all the same she said, “In the breakfast room would be better.”
His look was both wary and suspicious, but he gestured for her to lead the way. Once inside, she shut the doors.
“This isn’t something anyone should overhear,” she said. At his expression, she quickly added, “This isn’t some attack, Con. Please don’t look like that. This is . . . a kindly act. At the least an honest one.” She pulled out the letter from her pocket. “Amelia brought this. It’s a letter from my mother. You can read it all if you want, though she writes in a terrible hand.”
She glanced at the densely covered page. “I’d never seen her handwriting before. Isn’t that strange?”
When she looked up, he was as blankly distant as if they were strangers. Why was she saying such irrelevant things?
“What does it say?” he asked.
She couldn’t think where to start. “That she was married to the earl. I know, I know! But I believe her. It was a mad business, but he was mad.”
She quickly related the details, seeing his distant coolness melt at least into bemusement.
She put the letter into his hands. “There. It’s all there. The letter that you can use to stop her if she tries this again. The sworn false statement. Doubtless somewhere here are those marriage lines. If you find them, you can destroy them too, then she’ll have no case at all.”
“I believe records will have been kept in Guernsey as well.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not true. Surely it can’t be proved if it’s not true.”
“I wonder . . .” He looked at her. “You might have made it stick, then you’d have had Crag Wyvern at least through your brother.”
“Dragon spit!” she exclaimed. “I do not want Crag Wyvern! I can’t wait to escape this place.”
“And yet you have just made sure that I keep it. And last night you proved I am vulnerable to you still.”
She closed her eyes. “Con, please!” She opened them to look at him, to try one last time. “I know you have reason to distrust me, but in this I am completely honest. I, like you, will never stay in Crag Wyvern, no matter who owns it. I don’t care about the title, any title. I’m deeply sorry to have given you reason to be so distrustful, but now, here, I am being starkly honest.”
He was turning the letter in his
hands as if it could reveal something extra from the outside. “Be honest then. How many lovers have you had?”
“Three,” she said softly.
He looked at her, demanding more.
With a sigh she added, “On four occasions. I’m sorry for misleading you, but I thought that if you knew the truth you would not make love to me, and I was greedy for it. But it was wrong to lie, even by implication.”
“Why only two other occasions? I have no right to ask, but I need to know.”
She hesitated but continued on the honest path. “I was trying to wipe away the memory of you.”
After a moment he put the letter in his pocket. “I need to think about this.”
“There’s nothing to think about. I told David about it, and he thinks as I do. It would be horribly wrong.”
He continued to look darkly thoughtful.
“Con!” she protested. “Please. I will never do anything to hurt you again.”
“I believe you,” he said with a touch of a smile. “Don’t leave here, Susan. I want to talk to you about this more.”
“I am staying for a few more days at least.”
He nodded, and left by the corridor door.
Con closed the door and paused to try to deal with the thoughts swirling in his head. It was no good. At this point, before making some crucial decisions, he needed an obviously sane head to help him.
He changed into riding clothes, then walked down to the Crag’s stables and set off for the two-hour ride to Redoaks in Somerset, home of Nicholas Delaney.
He prayed Nicholas was at home.
As he rode it occurred to him that it was the first time he’d sought out any of his friends since he’d come home from Waterloo. He’d spent time with the Rogues in the Shires and then in London, but with masks and guards thoroughly in place. He’d been hiding within them rather than meeting them.
