Miss Whittingdon sat in a yellow horsehair chair. She did not get up. “Yes, I know. I saw you and Magnus driving around the city last week, but I had to wait until you were officially ‘out’ before I could call.” The woman’s plainspokenness startled Caroline, as did her air of blatant arrogance. She spoke with a sense of superiority that was grating. And she had referred to Magnus by his first name.
She was saying, “I know it is considered ill-mannered of me to call without an invitation, but Magnus and I are old friends,” these two words were emphasized, “and I simply had to see him. Is he in?”
Caroline’s heart was thumping from the innuendo of the pair of words. “No.”
The other woman shrugged, tilting her head to one side as if she were flirting. “Then we shall have a chance to chat. Tell me, how long have you and Magnus been married?” There was an obvious drop in her gaze to Caroline’s waistline.
“Several months,” Caroline answered. She sat down, deciding not to offer this woman tea.
“Did you know him long before that?”
“Not long.”
“Oh, Magnus always was one for quick romance. Never liked to linger, that one.” Constance laughed as if remembering some private amusement. “I’m surprised he finally wed. He said he never would.”
“Of course he never married,” she quipped, smiling sweetly at the other woman. “How else could he have wed me if he had?”
The look Constance gave her was barely civil. “I suppose some women need marriage. I, of course, could never abide it. Too stifling. A woman loses all her freedoms.”
Caroline guessed from the way Constance was looking at her like she would be pleased to claw her eyes out, that this was not completely true, at least not where Magnus was concerned.
“And then,” Constance continued, “the wives have to sit patiently at home when their men tire of them, pretending they are unaware of their husbands’ indiscretions. Oh, I shudder to think of myself ending up in such circumstances.”
Only months ago, Caroline might have been reduced to a stuttering mess by such haughtiness.
“Yes,” Caroline sighed. “So many men must dominate in order to feel important. That is why I am so relieved my Magnus has no such tendencies. He indulges me constantly and showers me with presents all the time.” That had gotten her. Constance Whittingdon’s complexion deepened three shades. Greed was something this woman could understand.
They both almost came up out of their chairs as a new voice cut in. “Of course I do, Cara mia. I live for you.”
Caroline lost all her courage as her husband sauntered into the room, his last words echoing their double meaning. His smile was tight. His eyes were cold.
Unfortunately, it was painfully obvious he had not been home since last evening, since his black trousers and tail coat were rumpled and his cravat was askew. A dark blur of whiskers bristled on his face and his hair was more tousled than usual.
Constance was the first to speak. “Magnus, darling, I was just getting to know your charming wife.”
“Isn’t she adorable?”
Caroline had not realized she was holding her breath until now. She let it out, but it didn’t ease her tension.
Magnus came to her side. He smelled of whiskey. To Constance, he said, “You’ve chosen a bad time to call. I am afraid my old cronies held me hostage last night, not allowing me to return to my bride, miscreants that they are.” Turning to Caroline, he said, “I stripped them of their savings, darling, as just reward for such cruelty.”
There was a hard knot in Caroline’s throat that kept her from responding. Not too long ago, he would have spoken such a sentiment without the mockery.
Apparently, his subtlety was lost on Constance, for she gathered up her reticule and announced she must take her leave. On account of such bad timing, she said, but Caroline rather thought she looked like she might retch.
After they had seen her to her carriage, Caroline grabbed Magnus’ sleeve and yanked hard.
“What the devil did you think you were doing last night?”
“Are we going to go through this again? I had no idea your brain suffered from such frequent lapses, Cara. I thought I was at White’s, visiting with old friends-”
“Oh, shut up, would you!”
He stopped and gawked at her, stunned. She took a deep breath and said, “Did it ever occur to you that I might be worried? What if you had taken ill? How would I have known? Or what if you could not get to someone who could help you—what would happen to you?”
“Oh, please stop,” he snapped, recovered from his shock. “You are making me want to weep. What a cad I was not to think of your concern.”
She glared at him. “You are such a bounder.”
“Yes,” he purred, triumphant, “I am.”
She shook her head and sighed in disgust. “I am wasting my time with you. I am going upstairs.”
She was almost to the door when he said in a voice so chilling it made her blood turn cold to hear it, “Yes, do. I’ve left you a present on your pillow.”
Chapter Twenty
She could feel him watching as she fled up the stairs. She wanted to stay and scream at him, but she was afraid she would cry. Her eyes stung and her throat felt strained, stuck, as if stifled sobs were caught painfully inside.
She forgot about his reference to having left her a present by the time she reached their room. Slamming the door behind her, she flopped onto the cushioned stool in front of the dressing table.
Her reflection stared back at her. She looked pale. Her eyes were dark and round, making her appear waiflike.
Lord, she was lost. What was happening?
Her reflection had no answer for her silent appeal. Restless, she moved to the window. As she passed her desk, she noticed a letter had been placed on the salver. A quick check at the address brought a feeling of comfort. It was from Switzerland.
Tearing it open, she read the words written in her mother’s hand:
Dearest Caroline,
Thank you for your last letter. You cannot know the joy it is to me to know you are so happy with the earl. He sounds like a fine man and is treating you well. Rest and eat and take care not to overexert yourself.
Caroline’s heart constricted. She had written glowingly of Magnus when they had been happy together. So long ago, it seemed.
This shall be short, for I shall tell you all our news when I see you in person. James is doing so well, his doctors have given me permission to take him on a brief holiday. Of course, London was not to their liking, but it will be a short visit. Do not worry about money, we have plenty of funds for our trip, thanks to you. I cannot wait to see you again, my darling, and hope this letter finds you well and happy. I am always
Your Loving Mother
She closed her eyes and thought how wonderful it would be to have her mother’s sage advice and loving nurturance. Now that Magnus was so much worse, she would have someone on her side, someone to help her think of what to do.
She folded the letter and placed it on the salver.
It was then she remembered Magnus’ having said he left her a gift on her pillow.
He had said it with such savage triumph.
Dread infused her body. She turned to the bed, her steps slow, deliberate, almost reluctant. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw spread out over the embroidered linen.
The diamond necklace. The lovely choker flashed fire, caught in a slant of sunshine coming through the window.
Caroline cried out, falling to her knees at the side of the bed and taking the necklace in her hand. Turning it over and over, she saw it was exactly the same. There could be no twin of this piece.
A sound alerted her to his presence. She whipped her head around, still kneeling, still holding the damning choker in her hands.
“Aren’t you going to thank me for returning it to you?”
Caroline’s voice came as only a whisper. “Magnus, I.”
“What?”
He stood with his arms clasped across his massive chest, disheveled, wickedly handsome. His eyes were a dark, dark green.
“I’m sorry.”
“Most thieves are. When they’re caught.”
She bowed her head, knowing she deserved everything he would say. At least she had her answers. The mystery of his mood the last few days was solved. Yet, the knowledge gave her no comfort.
“Aren’t you going to offer me an explanation? I admit, I have been looking forward to it. My mind is positively confounded with the possibilities.” He moved to the bed. Caroline watched every move, noting the cruel twist of his mouth. He was pretending to be civilized, but the undercurrents of danger were there.
He was aching. Instinctively she knew that, and while it should have broken her heart, it didn’t. For some insane reason she couldn’t fathom, it made her heart leap. Because it meant he wasn’t indifferent. He cared. Sitting on the bed, trying for all the world to appear severe, the pain in his eyes was as clear to her as anything had ever been in her life. He had pulled away from her, ignored and insulted her not because of his own perfidy, or because he was tiring of her, but because he was tormented by what he had discovered.
The hope of this first discovery was quickly dashed by a second. Whether he had truly cared for her, whether his changed attitude was out of wounded pride and not disinterest, she had deceived him. She had stolen and lied to him, and a man like Magnus would never forgive.
“I am going to explain to you,” she began. “And I will start at the beginning. The facts are easy enough for you to check, so you will know I am telling you the truth.”
“Nevertheless, you will pardon me if I do not take your word for it.”
“Of course,” she muttered, stung. She took in a long breath. “I came to you because I needed money. That you know. When my friend told me about you and your offer, I couldn’t believe such an excellent opportunity. I told you about being poor. To you that is just a word, Magnus. It denotes something unpleasant, but it is not real. Poor, when you live it, is pure terror. Terror because you might not have enough to eat, terror because you have to live in a part of the city that is full of crime, and most of all, terror that your young brother will die.”
He had been giving her that look, the keen, intense one that never failed to turn her insides to quivering mush, but the last part of her statement penetrated his cold veneer. His head moved slightly to one side and his eyes narrowed.
She went on, “You never met James because James is very ill. He has consumption. When we lived in London, he rarely had enough energy to climb out of bed. At the Barrister’s Ordinary, he began to do better, and the doctor said it was because of the country air and the medicine he received. That was where my money went, Magnus. To James’ doctors. It was suggested, seeing how well James was responding, that he might experience a full recovery at a sanatorium. The fees were prohibitive. I needed money for the sanatorium. So I sold the necklace. Once he was there, the expenses kept mounting. I stole the other things to augment my allowance, to try to afford the treatments as long as possible.”
He had not moved an inch. She felt like she was cowering before him, hunkered down on her knees as she was, so she stood and smoothed her skirts. That small action made her feel better. Or perhaps it was the cleansing of her secrets.
“Let us not dispute your story,” he said after a while. “For now. Pray explain to me why you simply didn’t inform me of your brother’s condition and ask me to pay the fees.”
“I kept James a secret because I feared you would not want a wife burdened with another who was ill. I was afraid you would think it would detract from my commitment to you and that you wouldn’t choose me.”
He looked thunderous for a moment, as if he had just been gravely insulted. His lips pressed together in a hard white line. “Is that what you think of me?”
“At first, Magnus, I didn’t even know you, except by reputation, which was hardly complimentary to your character. And.” She paused a moment before deciding she must tell him all of it. “You investigated my family, you know the stories about my father. Except there are stories you don’t know. No one does but me. My father taught me well about the nature of men. And you, by reputation, certainly seemed no different. You were a reprobate, without apology. Would you have me pin my brother’s life on such a man’s goodwill?”
“But after. After everything else. You still felt you could not come to me.”
Damn! Damn! She hated herself for crying. The heat of her tears left tracks of stinging flesh on her cheeks. “Oh, God, Magnus, I thought of it a thousand times. I wanted to. But I was afraid. I told myself you would never miss those things, that you were so wealthy it hardly mattered, and I tried to forget what I had done. If I had told you, then you would have hated me no less than you do now.”
He shook his head. “No, you’re wrong. I respect honesty.”
She blanched, knowing he was right. “I didn’t tell you because I was a coward. And because I didn’t want to upset you, perhaps bring on an attack.” She paused, fighting with her conscience. “But the main reason I didn’t ever tell you was that I didn’t want to give you any reason to put me aside. Before the child, I thought you might just be disgusted enough with me to do it.”
“I might just have at that. I am fairly disgusted with you right now. But, you planned well. There is the child.” He rose off the bed. “I shall have my things removed to another room.”
The flare of pain made her gasp. “I don’t want that.”
“Why should you mind? Our bargain was struck, and we have both kept up our ends. You’re swelling before my eyes and I have given you the means to save your little brother. Therefore, there is nothing to do but wait for me to expire.”
“Listen to me,” she began, her anger and fear of losing him making her bold. “That’s not what I want. I don’t just care about your money. I don’t care if I ever see a penny of it. Oh, I wish you weren’t dying. I wish James hadn’t been ill. I wish you could know how I feel about you. Just you, apart from everything else.”
He threw his head back. “Are you now going to tell me that you want me? Will you again protest to me about how much you care? You don’t have to, you know. I’m not going to put you aside. Despite your light-fingered ways, you’ve met your duty by me. I admit we got carried away, but I suppose we can rectify that and return to the way it should have been all along. A business arrangement. That is all.”
“That’s impossible, Magnus,” she said. She had no idea where the courage was coming from for what she was about to say, but she didn’t question it. “I’ve fallen in love with you. Truly. And I have nothing to gain by saying so, if it were false. If I only cared about money, I would be glad to get off so easy and be content to have it be as you say. But I shall not be content, Magnus. I love you. And I am going to have to lose you soon enough.” She was sobbing now. “Please don’t do this.”
Magnus stared at her for a long time. He had never looked so hard, so unreachable. He said nothing, didn’t even move a single muscle, until at last he simply turned on his heel and walked out of the room.
Cold and hot, nausea, gripping pain all combined, brought Caroline once again to her knees. She hugged herself, weeping and rocking.
The most terrible part of it was she had no regrets. James was alive, not just alive but thriving. And it was her doing. She could have trusted Magnus, she knew that now, but there was no way to have known then. She had taken a chance, for James’ sake, and she had lost.
She had lost it all.
“Magnus, why the devil didn’t you tell me you were here? I have been waiting for you to let me know when you came to London, and I have to hear it from Clarely, of all people.” David was too far gone in his own pique to notice his brother’s dour look as he stormed into the library. He made no mention of the missing chair or the scar on the wall where an old portrait had hung. “I heard you cleaned their clocks at White’s last night. Devil take you, you sh
ould have let me know. I would have enjoyed seeing that.”
He threw himself down on a sofa. “I heard that Cannon fellow was skulking about, glowering and making threats. Doesn’t he realize he only makes a further fool of himself the more he—”
“Caroline has been stealing from me.”
David paled. “What the bloody hell did you say?”
“She stole some of Mother’s treasures and sold them. I gave her Mother’s diamond choker. The one she wore in her portrait. She sold that, too.”
“Jesus!” David blew out a long, slow breath. “You caught her at it or did she confess?”
“Both. I confronted her, then she confessed.”
“Damn. I thought. Well, I thought she was good for you. I had almost forgotten why she got into this in the first place. She was so concerned, genuinely so it seemed.” He seemed acutely distressed. “It would have made this whole rushed marriage thing seem much more beneficial if she hadn’t turned out to be an opportunist. Too bad.”
“She says she did it for her brother. Says he’s dying. He needed money for treatment.”
“Bloody Christ.” David was sweating. “What did you say?”
Magnus moved to the window, clasping his arms over his chest. “Nothing.”
“Do you believe her? I mean, that’s not so bad a reason to steal. Damned tragic, after all. She should have told you sooner, of course, but after all, it wasn’t like she had some lover on the side she was funneling it to.”
Magnus blanched, betraying the fact that that very thought had occurred to him as well. “I’m having Green investigate it.”
“Let me handle this. After all, it cannot be easy for you. And Green is a disagreeable fellow, as I have often said.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
David appeared uncertain. Magnus wondered why he was so upset. Did his happiness matter so much to his brother as that? He hesitated, then said, “She. She tried to appeal to me, tried to make it right.”
David was suspicious. “What did she say?”
Magnus paused. “She said she was in love with me.”
A Rose at Midnight Page 20
