It was clear that Rupert expected Garnett to leave so Edwina could bathe and dress. “Wait,” Edwina said.
“My apologies, contessa,” the doctor replied with mock deference. “My orders are to—”
“I care not about your orders,” she snapped. “Go and tell your master we will cooperate, but we want to discuss new terms. I’d like a moment alone with my friend.”
“As you wish,” Rupert bowed to Edwina and motioned to Bernardo. As they left the room, Edwina flew into Garnett’s arms and kissed him passionately, taking him by surprise. He looked down at her with growing wonder.
“We haven’t much time,” he told her. “What would you have me say to the monster you have married?”
“You will set a new arrangement,” she replied, her voice low. “It will buy us time. Tell him we’ll comply, on condition that we are not observed. And after the child is born, the babe and I will live here on the estate but in one of the cottages, not in the main house with him. He won’t allow it but we can use it as a point of negotiation. And tell him that as soon as his fortune is secure, he will divorce me and let me go back to England. It must sound convincing, so you will also double your fee.”
“Sixteen thousand pounds?” Garnett was incredulous.
“Yes. He’ll respect that, not that it matters.”
“Is that all?” he had to smile, in spite of the situation, at her audacity.
“No. In exchange for these new terms, say that you’re willing to come back and continue with the arrangement whenever your ship is in port, until we can be certain I am carrying your child. That way,” she whispered, “he’ll not be suspicious when you come back to get me out of here.”
“You would have me make such an arrangement with him when I’d like to strangle him instead.”
“Please,” she begged. “You can see we have no choice. I’ll die if you refuse him and he gets another surrogate. Especially now, after I have seen you again.”
He pulled her close and held her in the protective circle of his arms. She responded by kissing him fervently, free at last to give in to the passion she had always felt for him. “You are magnificent,” he whispered. “Utterly magnificent.” She warmed to his praise, pressing her body against his and reveling in the sensation as he drew her closer still.
**
When Garnett, over a tense breakfast, laid out the new terms, Paolo listened quietly; but he was smiling perversely, as if he alone enjoyed a sordid secret. To Edwina, he said, “He is very clever, this young man of ours. Our child will also be clever. My dear contessa, I couldn’t have chosen more wisely.” He considered Garnett a moment and then said, “And what do I get in return, exactly?”
“I’ll visit you and Edwina every time I am in port, until we are certain of conception,” Garnett responded, hating himself for bargaining with the devil. “My ship is due here again in ten weeks time.”
Paolo was thoughtful. “Very well. I agree. But I need certain adjustments in the terms as well. If I cannot observe the conception of my heir, I must withhold payment until I’m sure it is accomplished. Then, when the good doctor confirms the happy news, say, within the next month or two, you’ll have ten thousand pounds. And when the child is born—in good health—the balance.”
“Agreed.”
“My wife will not live in a separate residence, and divorce is out of the question. The church, you know. When the babe is two years old, Edwina will be free to travel and live anywhere she wishes but the child will stay with me. I’ll agree to a legal separation once I’m sure the estate is mine; and naturally, I will settle an amount on the contessa so that she will have a good life.”
Garnett bristled. “That will not be necessary.”
“Yes,” Edwina put in. “It is necessary.” Her husband looked at her, surprised that she had dared to speak. “I insist you provide for me as well as the child, wherever I am—especially if I must remain your wife.”
“Agreed,” said the count, turning his smile on Garnett again. “You are good for the contessa, my friend. You have imbued her with spirit. How very exciting.”
“Yes, isn’t it?” Edwina couldn’t resist taunting him.
He surveyed her a moment, allowing his lascivious gaze to travel the length of her body, reminding her of how he had repeatedly forced her to let him look upon her undraped form. Then he spoke to Garnett again. “Now, as you are a gentleman of honor, I trust you will begin immediately to fulfill our bargain. You’ll have absolute privacy. I am going to Palermo for a few days.” He motioned for Bernardo to pour them all more of the fragrant hot coffee. “Please remember that Bernardo or one of his men will be stationed at the bedroom door at all times, and two more will be just outside, on the patio. Sophia and the others will see that you have everything—clothing, food, water, wine—whatever you need. You will spend every moment together for the next week, until Garnett’s departure. I trust you will use the time well.”
**
Edwina and Garnett had just returned to the bedroom when Bernardo and the doctor entered carrying a large painting. The armed guard behind them was carrying a ladder, which Bernardo used to hang the painting over the aperture through which Garnett had looked earlier. A copper bathtub big enough to accommodate two people now sat in one corner of the room and soft, fluffy towels were hanging nearby. A beautifully embroidered Persian rug was beside the tub and a hand-painted Oriental screen stood in another corner, shielding a rather ornate, covered chamber pot. Never was there a more lavish prison cell, Garnett thought.
Dr. Rupert bowed and said with false humility, “Bernardo will return in three hours with food and drink. Dinner will be brought in promptly at seven. Sophia will come in every afternoon to clean the room. If there is anything else you need, you have but to open the door and tell the guard. Good day.”
He bowed again and left them alone together.
**
The door closed silently and they heard the click of the lock and the scraping of iron on iron as the bolt slid home, locking them securely inside. Edwina, although her heart was pounding, turned to Garnett and said calmly, “It has worked so far.”
“You honestly think he believed us?” Garnett asked.
“There’s only one way to truly convince him.”
“Edwina, I do not see how I can allow you—”
She went quickly into his arms and put one slim finger against his lips. “Shhh,” she said softly. “Just kiss me, Garnett.”
He couldn’t help but wonder at her own special blend of passion and innocence—for he knew she was truly innocent. Her lips parted in sweet invitation and before he quite knew how it happened, his mouth closed over hers. His hands circled her small waist and moved slowly down to explore the curve of her slender hips. He delighted in her soft gasp of unexpected pleasure. Eagerly, her arms went around him and his kisses traveled to her neck, and then to the rising curve of her breasts. He pulled his head away a moment to look at her. She smiled at him and a trembling sigh escaped him as his need of her assaulted his loins. Lifting her small form, he carried her to the bed.
“God help me,” he said. “I cannot fight you anymore.”
Her reply, as he placed her gently down, was to pull him close again and to kiss him with all the longing she had felt since the first moment she saw him.
**
Taking only a candle, Paolo quietly opened the door and entered the small anteroom adjacent to the one in which he had the supposed lovers installed. If they did not fulfill the bargain they had made with him, if they were indeed engaged in any kind of trickery, he would know it. And he would make good his threat to Garnett.
If, on the other hand, Garnett made love to Edwina, and indeed impregnated her, Paolo knew he would have the Englishman’s full cooperation. The young Lord Easton was not the sort of gentleman who would look lightly upon such an act with a girl he cared for, and he would want to visit often, affording Paolo the opportunity for much entertainment and relief from the boredom of
life on the island. And how could Easton resist her? She was so thoroughly enticing and she had a passionate nature. Paolo had made sure of that during their honeymoon. And he had held back from pleasuring her, as he had Elizabeth in the greenhouse at Easton Place, only because he wanted her to be consumed with desire by the time he’d found a surrogate. How fortunate that Garnett had come to him. It was destiny, truly, he thought.
In the dim light, he made his way past the chair where Garnett had sat and leaned forward to peer through the crack in the wall, the opening that was now covered on the other side with a large painting. Paolo continued on, the candle lighting his way, through a door at the end of the small chamber and around a corner. He thought it especially clever that he had built the anteroom so that it ran around the master bedroom on three sides. Once he had located the chair that stood at the ready in this section of the narrow interior hallway, before a similar crack in another wall, he extinguished the candle and, in the darkness, inched his way toward the chair. He longed to hear their cries of ecstasy but the solid walls of the manor house made that impossible. He would have to be satisfied with a surreptitious view of their mating.
He took his place in the chair and leaned forward to peer through the thin slit in the wall that had been placed there, just at the edge of where, on the other side, a large embroidered sampler hung. He sighed with anticipation. From where he sat, he could look directly down on the young lovers. He closed one eye and put the other against the small opening, and what he saw made him break into heavy perspiration.
Garnett had removed his clothes and was on the bed with the contessa, slowly pulling her gown off her supple body. She looked at him with love as she waited for him to undress her. He kissed her, lightly at first and then more heatedly as he gathered her in his arms. His lips on hers, his hands moved over her body, caressing her as she arched towards him, her head falling back and her dark hair spilling across the pillow. Paolo held his breath, imagining her soft cry of fulfillment.
Then as Edwina lay still, Garnett’s lips traveled from her sweet mouth to her neck to her round little breasts. His tongue darted out to tease the tips of them into stiff buds of desire and when she parted her legs and pressed eagerly against him, he gave in at last to the need that engulfed him. With one firm but gentle thrust, he was inside her.
In the darkness of his little closet, Paolo put one fist into his own mouth and bit down on his knuckles to stifle his gasp. With his other hand, he groped the deformed, twisted, useless thing between his legs. He felt a pulling in his groin, a yearning he cursed for it was one he could do nothing to satisfy. Nothing, except to watch others.
**
The first thing Garnett did on disembarking in London was to send a message to Drake, telling him that he’d stayed with his ship until Barcelona; and then he’d had to abandon his assignment, returning to England on another ship in order to help a friend in danger. He’d wanted to book passage from Palermo, but he was afraid Paolo might have men watching his ship. As soon as he had seen Cleome, he would call on Drake and explain. After paying the messenger, he had just enough money left to hire a coach to take him from the docks to Cleome’s townhouse.
He prayed she would be there, and not out at Houghton Hall. If that were the case, he’d go to Oliver Landshire and borrow enough for a hot meal and a coach out to Cambridge. He wanted to protect Edwina’s reputation but he knew he could tell Cleome everything, for she would not sit in judgment. She would carry the terrible secret to her grave, rather than betray Edwina. The less anyone else knew about the situation, the better, but he would let Cleome decide how much they should reveal to Oliver.
Garnett sat back against the comfortable coach seat and the memory of his last night with Edwina washed over him. She was nothing short of spectacular, the way she gave herself so fully, so openly to him.
He groaned, remembering the sweetness of her lips, the warmth of her kiss, the heat of her embrace. She was amazing, much more interesting than he’d ever imagined her to be, and capable of such passion as men only dreamed. And he knew she was in love with him. She’d made no secret about it; he supposed it made their predicament easier for her to bear. While his heart still belonged to Cleome, he told himself, he couldn’t deny the unexpected feelings Edwina inspired in him. But he wouldn’t think of that now. First, he had to get her away from the Isola di Paresi and her perverted husband. He had to round up a company of men and go back for her. But where, he wondered, did one go to find such men?
It was a rainy, foggy morning and he was comforted at once to see that Cleome’s front parlor window was well-lit against the gloom. Emptying his pockets, Garnett paid the driver and hurried up the steps to knock loudly on the front door. When Higgins opened it, Garnett rushed past him into the foyer.
“Is your mistress at home, Higgins? I must see her right away.”
“I shall inquire, sir.”
“That will not be necessary,” Cleome exclaimed, running to hug Garnett. “Come in, my dear. I was looking out the window and saw you get out of the coach. I didn’t expect you back for another month.”
“I’ve seen Edwina,” he told her, surprised that he was not as conscious of her nearness as he’d once been. It was only because, he supposed, he was desperately worried about Edwina. “Cleome, we must help her. She has married a monster. It is a vile, horrifying sham of a marriage which she cannot endure for much longer.”
“Horrifying?” Her welcome changed to alarm. “How so?”
Aware of Higgins standing nearby, Garnett took Cleome’s elbow and ushered her into the parlor. He closed the door behind them and told her everything, hanging his head with shame on confessing his own participation. “There really was nothing else we could do,” he finished. “He’d have had us both killed. Or rather, had me killed and then found someone else to force Edwina. If it turns out she cannot give him a child, he’ll dispose of her in time to marry someone else. I swear to you, I went along with the madness just to keep her safe. Edwina insisted there was no other way. Perhaps I should have let him do away with both of us.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cleome told him. “I’ve always thought being alive preferable to being honorable, if called upon to make a choice.” She made him sit down at her writing desk and take up paper and pen. “Sketch the layout at the villa,” she said. “Mark where you saw guards, and how many.” When he was done, she looked at him seriously. “This will require more than a luxury yacht and a few hearty sailors,” she said.
“It needs military precision and men of experience. And a great deal of money.”
“Don’t worry about money, Garnett,” she admonished. “It’s there for our use and we shall have the best that can be found. Drake will know how to go about it.”
“I’ve sent a message to him that I had to resign, for the time being.”
“Have you told Oliver yet?” Garnett shook his head, and Cleome continued. “You must go to him now. I’ll find Drake. I agree that we should leave it to Edwina to tell them as much as she wishes, if we can. Perhaps it will be enough for them to know Paolo is drugging her and has made her his prisoner.” She opened the strong box she kept in her desk and gave him a few sovereigns and a fifty-pound note. “Here,” she said. “You must have a carriage or horse at your disposal—do not argue—and money for incidentals. Let us meet at Drake’s in an hour’s time. If he isn’t at home, we’ll go to his club. Someone there will likely know where to find him.”
**
Since it was just past noon on Sunday, Cleome was not surprised when Drake’s young footman informed her that the master had not yet awakened. She handed the sleepy boy her card.
“Kindly tell him that Cleome Parker is here,” she said dispensing with her title. “And that I wish to see him on an urgent matter.”
Still yawning, he showed her into the library, and she resisted the urge to look around, wondering if she might see the mysterious Mignon. She didn’t have to look far, for an oil painting of her rival
hung over the fireplace. Although Mignon lived in an upstairs suite at Stoneham House, Cleome had heard that the strange, silent creature spent lots of time at Drake’s townhouse, looking after matters that were customarily handled by a housekeeper. Or, Cleome thought, a wife. Stoically, she dismissed such thoughts, even as she studied Mignon’s portrait. She would not allow misplaced jealousy to distract her from her purpose. She could afford to buy a ship and hire a crew but neither she nor Garnett were capable of leading a band of mercenaries on a dangerous rescue in a foreign port. They needed a soldier for that, a man with experience, daring and military training.
“To what do I owe the honor of a visit from Lady Houghton-Parker?” The rich voice rang deep and true behind her and she whirled around to see him standing in the doorway. He was wearing form-fitting breeches, boots and a white linen shirt that hung open, revealing an expansive, well-muscled chest. He ran his fingers through hair still disheveled from slumber, and he looked as if he had dressed hurriedly.
With another quick glance at Mignon’s likeness, she said with only a touch of disdain, “I do hope I haven’t called you away from anything pressing. If it were not a matter of the utmost gravity, please believe I would not disturb you at this early hour.”
“Or any other?” he asked caustically, crossing the room with but a few strides to where she waited. Leaning close, he gazed deeply into her eyes. “Tell me what you want from me,” he said softly.
“Nothing for myself. Edwina is in trouble—”
“Whatever your charming little friend has gotten herself into, I believe it can wait until I’ve had my coffee. I hear she has married an Italian count and now lives with him on his own private island. Won’t you join me?”
“I really do not want any coffee, thank you,” she replied sharply.
The Lodestone Page 33
