Playing with Fire

by Sandra Heath

  “Magic?” she whispered with a small smile.

  “Definitely,” he replied, and kissed her forehead.

  The cats reached up on their hind legs to pat the figurine, and their rich purring became even louder. The pyramid seemed to be filled with the sound.

  Martin straightened and reached down to help her to her feet. Then he insisted she put on his naval coat properly. “Let’s get you back to the house.” He hesitated. “But first, there’s something I should tell you. Amanda has run off with Sanderby.” He explained what Daisy had said.

  Tansy stared at him. “Run off? But she hasn’t even met him yet, so….” The words faltered as she remembered thinking that Amanda spoke as if she and Lord Sanderby had indeed met.

  “What were you going to say?” he pressed.

  She told him, then went on. “Daisy is absolutely sure Amanda has gone with Lord Sanderby?”

  “Yes. It seems a carriage was waiting in the woods, and there can surely be no doubt that it was the earl’s. Sir Julian has sent out search parties, but there’s no sign of either Amanda or Sanderby. They’re long gone by now, and it’s my guess she’ll be married before the day is out.” Martin smoothed his hair back. “Her reasons are plain enough, for by hook or by crook she means to be a countess; but Sanderby’s reasons are more curious. Where elopements and heiresses are concerned, as a rule one thinks only of adventurers or fortune seekers. Sanderby is neither.”

  Tansy went to the doorway and breathed deeply of the morning air. Ozzy and Cleo accompanied her and rubbed sensuously around her skirts. Tansy bent to touch them, but she was thinking about Amanda. “You are right about by hook or by crook, so I suppose I’m not really surprised Amanda has done something like this. And I agree that Lord Sanderby’s motives are a mystery. But out of everything that went on last night, I’m most intrigued by the destruction of Sir Julian’s letter. What on earth could it have contained that the strange gentleman was so desperate to be rid of it?” A thought occurred. “You don’t suppose the intruder was Lord Sanderby, do you? I mean, I don’t know what he looks like, but this man was definitely too well dressed to be a common thief.”

  “Anything is possible, Tansy, and Sanderby clearly isn’t a gentleman, to have eloped with Amanda. The honorable thing would have been to wait for all the formalities.”

  “I do not know Lord Sanderby’s character, but I do know Amanda’s. If the runaway bride were anyone else, I would credit the elopement as the result of blind love.”

  Martin went to her and slipped his arms around her waist from behind. “I know what blind love is, Tansy,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he rested his cheek against her hair. The dark curls fluttered in the wind, touching his face gently. It was a sensuous and unbelievably intimate sensation. “When I did not know what had happened to you, or whether you were all right, I went through such agonies that I knew how desperately I have come to love you.”

  She turned into his arms, lifting her parted lips to meet his. He pulled her against him, bewitched by the sheer ecstasy of holding her again. He knew he could never let her go, never risk being without her. He broke from the kiss to take her face in his hands. “Marry me, Tansy,” he urged. “I wish I could claim to be a rich man, but I am not. I cannot promise you a fine country estate, London seasons, or a life that will even vaguely approach the privilege that Amanda will enjoy, but I do offer myself, body and soul. Please give me the answer I crave. Say you will be my wife.”

  “I will. Oh, I will,” she breathed, her heart almost bursting with happiness as she reached up to kiss him again.

  They clung together, almost forgetting everything else, but then there came the sound of hooves and they drew apart to watch as some more of Sir Julian’s men returned to Chelworth, this time from Weymouth. The riders noticed Martin’s horse by the pyramid and began to rein in. They would have come over to investigate had not Martin gone out to wave to them that all was well.

  Then he returned to Tansy and took her hand. “Come. We had better go back to the house, to let everyone know that you are all right.” He lifted her sideways onto the horse, then mounted behind her. With a steadying arm around her waist, he urged the horse away down the hill.

  Ozzy and Cleo lingered in the doorway of the pyramid. They stared toward the wall where Randal had seen the King Osorkon painting. It was just a blank wall, but the cats knew it was not always blank, nor was it necessarily always the same scene that appeared upon it.

  Chapter 29

  When Tansy and Martin arrived back at the house, they went directly to the kitchens, it being Martin’s intention to deal with James, but no one knew where that young man had gone, for he had already taken to his toes, as the saying went. Knowing that Tansy had seen him the night before, and realizing that she might well be discovered in the pyramid, the footman had deemed it a wise precaution to leave Chelworth, never to return. Even as Martin demanded to know his whereabouts, the ne’er-do-well had reached Weymouth, from where he planned to take passage on the first available vessel.

  Tansy was greeted with great delight by the servants, and a maid scurried to the library to tell Sir Julian and Hermione she had returned. Sir Julian and Hermione were just hastening across the atrium as Tansy and Martin left the kitchens. Hermione gave a glad cry and rushed to embrace her former charge. “Oh, my dearest, dearest girl! How glad I am to see you safe and, I trust, sound? Where have you been? What happened?”

  “Yes, I’m safe, and sound enough, if a little shaken. I’ve been imprisoned up at the pyramid, and I have no idea at all who did it to me, except that James the footman was involved.”

  Sir Julian’s jaw dropped, and he hastened over as well. “The pyramid? James? But—”

  Hermione shook her head at him. “Not now, sir. Questions can be asked in due course. For the moment all that matters is that she is back with us.” She looked at Tansy again. “We’ve been utterly wretched with worry, my dear,” she said, glimpsing the clasped hands beneath the cover of Martin’s naval coat. She was pleased, for if ever there were two young people whom she liked and thought belonged together, it was these two.

  Sir Julian went to kiss Tansy warmly on the cheek. “How relieved I am that at least one of my nieces has been given back to me!” he declared, then turned to gesture to the maid who’d brought the glad tidings. “Tea and hot buttered toast in the library, as quick as you can.”

  “Yes, Sir Julian.” The maid gave a swift curtsy and ran back to the kitchens.

  Hermione ushered Tansy into the library, and Martin walked with Sir Julian, explaining how the cats had led him to Tansy’s prison. But it wasn’t until the tea and hot buttered toast had been brought that Tansy actually related what she’d seen during the night, commencing, of course, with how she’d seen James the footman leading the stranger across the atrium.

  Sir Julian’s face changed. “So I had two vipers in the bosom of my staff? First Joseph and now James. He’s gone, d’you say?”

  Martin nodded. “My first thought on returning was to take him by the throat, but he’s made himself scarce. I doubt we’ll see him again.”

  “James saw me in the doorway,” Tansy explained, “so he knew I’d seen him.”

  “But what were they doing in here?” Sir Julian asked. “And who was the gentleman?”

  “They came to destroy the letter you had in the statue,” Martin said, “and from all accounts they succeeded.”

  Sir Julian went pale and stepped quickly to look in the secret compartment. Sure enough, it was empty. He closed his eyes, thoughts running one after another through his head. Even if he still had the letter, would he want to expose anything now? Such an action would not only ruin Randal, but Amanda as well, and much as he disliked Franklyn’s daughter, could he bring himself to make the wicked past a thing of public discussion at her expense? She was, and always would be, his own brother’s child. Nothing could ever change that.

  Hermione went anxiously to him. “Julian? Are you feeling unwell,
my dear?”

  Tansy and Martin exchanged glances at the easy way she addressed him by his first name.

  Sir Julian shook his head. “I’m quite all right, Hermione. Just a little shaken by all this.” Shaken? The word seemed hardly adequate for the way he felt right now. After all the years of keeping Felice’s secret, suddenly he had to face the fact that it was no longer in his power to do anything. Oh, he could trumpet the truth across the country, but who would believe a bitter old man who had such a very well-known ax to grind where the name Sanderby was concerned? He would become more of a laughingstock than he was now; indeed, he would be reviled! And all for nothing, because without proof of any kind at all, Randal Fenworth would remain firm and cozy in his ill-gotten gains. So Sir Julian knew it was out his hands now. The only thing on God’s own earth that would prompt him to confront the ridicule, would be the sudden appearance of Marguerite Kenny’s son—the real Earl of Sanderby….

  Ozzy and Cleo were seated in front of the library fire, and they watched Sir Julian’s face in such a way that Tansy felt they knew what he was thinking. Then they got up to go to Martin, around whose legs they wove like two furry shuttles. But other than Tansy, who didn’t understand what they were trying to say, no one else noticed, and as Sir Julian didn’t say what he knew, no one even guessed who was right there in the library with them.

  Tansy looked from the cats to her uncle. “I’m so sorry about the letter, Uncle Julian, but there was nothing I could have done. The moment the gentleman found the letter, he ripped it into pieces and threw them on the fire.”

  Sir Julian tried to pull himself together. “But how did he know about the secret place? Answer me that.” He paused. “Can you describe him, my dear?”

  Tansy did as he asked, and his eyes cleared. “Randal Fenworth!”

  Hermione looked at him curiously. “But why on earth would Lord Sanderby wish to enter the house in the dead of night to destroy your letter?”

  “Well you might ask,” Sir Julian replied wryly.

  “And how did he know where to look for it?” Martin added.

  “I don’t think we need go further than Amanda for the answer to that,” Sir Julian replied, his thoughts running on. Was the scheming little minx in full possession of the facts? How far would she go in order to become a countess? The answer was starkly obvious—any length. Any length at all….

  Hermione sighed. “I suppose Amanda is the obvious source. After all, no one else here has had any contact with Lord Sanderby since I so foolishly revealed the hiding place. Except that reprobate James, of course, but he wasn’t present when I opened the secret compartment.”

  Sir Julian went to draw her palm to his lips. “Don’t blame yourself, Hermione, for you weren’t to know.”

  “I think there is rather a lot I—we—don’t know, Julian. To begin with, you still haven’t said why the letter would be of importance to Lord Sanderby. Or is it something you prefer not to discuss?”

  “Well, I—” Sir Julian broke off in astonishment as there came from the atrium such a torrent of bad language from a raised female voice, that Tansy and Hermione went quite pink with embarrassment. Sir Julian was incensed. “What in the name of perdition is going on out there?” he breathed as he strode out to investigate. The others followed, and found two footmen struggling with a redheaded woman whose supply of expletives seemed quite endless.

  “What is the meaning of this?” demanded Sir Julian, in a tone that brought instant silence.

  Liza shook herself free and confronted him. “Are you Sir Julian Richardson?”

  “I am. And who, pray, are you?”

  “Liza Lawrence. I’m Lord Sanderby’s—”

  “Inamorata? Yes, your name is now known to me,” Sir Julian interrupted, for the cook at Bothenbury hadn’t minced her words to his men about Randal’s belle de nuit.

  “Well, I don’t know being an inamorata, but I was his whore, right enough,” Liza admitted candidly. Then her glance happened upon the console table. “My best Russian chattie!” she cried, and pounced upon it. “Oh, I have missed this!”

  Ozzy and Cleo, observing from the library door, eyed her with complete disgust.

  Sir Julian was taken aback. “The scarf is yours?”

  “Oh, yes,” Liza confirmed, as she wrapped it around her throat and patted it neatly into place. It was a little damp, but not much, and it didn’t seem to have come to any harm for being benighted in the woods.

  “What were you doing in my woods?” Sir Julian asked her.

  “Eh? Oh, Lord High-and-Mighty Sanderby used to bring me along when he came here. He’d wait down in the woods for a signal, then come up to be let in the house. He was searching for something.”

  “I know that too,” Sir Julian replied heavily, thinking that the damned mongrel had eventually found it!

  “Look, I don’t know much about all this,” Liza went on, “but I do know sufficient. And I don’t half want to get my own back on the miserable excuse for a gentleman who hauled me all the way down here to the sticks, used me, then chucked me aside like an old stocking!”

  “So you are here on an errand of revenge?”

  “I am.”

  Sir Julian exhaled slowly. “I fear you are too late.”

  “Too late?” Liza looked at him. “Oh, you mean because he and your niece have run off to Wareham?”

  Martin stepped forward. “Wareham?” he repeated.

  “That’s right. Their carriage passed me in the lane. They’ve gone off to Wareham, where his lordship has bribed a vicar to do the honors. St. Winifred’s church, I think.”

  Martin held her gaze. “Are you quite sure about this?”

  “Yes, of course I am. Lord High-and-Mighty used to brag to me about how clever he was. When he decided to throw me out, he’d have done well to remember how much he’d blabbed. She’ll be his bride before nightfall, unless someone goes to stop it. You’ll know his carriage if you see it, for it has a torch badge on its door.”

  “I know his badge well enough,” Sir Julian said, then ordered the footmen to have his own vehicle made ready as quickly as possible.

  But as the men hastened away, Martin intervened. “Do you intend to go after her, sir?”

  “Yes, for it is my duty.”

  “With all due respect, sir, I think it would be better if I went instead.”

  “You? But, Lieutenant, you are hardly a well man,” Sir Julian became puzzled. “Although, I admit you do seem to have undergone a remarkable recovery.”

  Martin smiled. “Put it down to Egyptian magic, sir. Oh, it is quite a story, and I will explain when I return, hopefully having rescued your other niece.”

  Tansy took off Martin’s coat and returned it to him; then she caught up her skirts to hurry to the staircase. “I’m going to go with you, Martin!”

  Hermione was appalled. “You? My dear, you have just undergone another ordeal, so I think I should be the one to go. Besides, there is propriety to consider!”

  “Oh, but—”

  Sir Julian was adamant. “No, Tansy, my dear. I will not hear of it. To have one niece rushing around the countryside alone in a carriage with a gentleman is bad enough, but to have two…. You stay here. And you too, Hermione, for I do not trust Sanderby one inch further than I could throw him. He has no scruples, and would as soon strike a woman as a man. I will see that some of my men accompany the lieutenant.”

  Martin shook his head. “It is better if I go alone, sir. It will attract attention if I take men with me. The chance of scandal may yet be avoided if I can quietly persuade Amanda to come back with me.”

  Hermione’s lips twitched. Quietly persuade that uppity miss to come back? Chance would indeed be a fine thing!

  Sir Julian thought the same, but gave in nevertheless. “As you wish, Lieutenant. And thank you for this. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Indeed, it seems to me that I am continually in your debt where my nieces are concerned.”

  Tansy had remained where sh
e was while this went on, but now she continued up the staircase anyway. “I’ll just go to my room to change into a day dress,” she called back over her shoulder, but as she rushed to her wardrobe, it was her warmest cloak she took out. Moments later, after scribbling a swift note of explanation, she slipped stealthily onto the landing again, still carrying the comforting bronze figurine. The atrium was deserted, everyone having adjourned to the library, including Liza. No one was there to see as Tansy slipped outside into the continuing wind, and hurried along the drive to a convenient clump of bushes. But as she parted the swaying branches to watch the house, she became aware of not being alone. Ozzy and Cleo were with her, their ears back in discomfort as the wind blew their fur the wrong way. Tansy knew without being told that they expected to accompany her in the carriage. How she knew it she could not have said, but the knowledge was there.

  Within a minute or so Lysons brought the carriage to the door, and Martin hurried out to climb in. But as the vehicle set off toward her, she stepped into its path, obliging Lysons to haul upon the brakes. “Are you mad, Miss Tansy!” he cried, knowing how close he had come to running her down.

  Martin lowered the glass and looked impatiently out. “What’s happened?”

  Tansy ran to the carriage, Ozzy and Cleo at her heels. “It’s me, Martin. I’m coming with you, whether Uncle Julian likes it or not.”

  “Tansy—”

  “If you do not let me in, Martin Ballard, I shall tell Uncle Julian of the liberties you took at the pyramid.”

  Martin saw the steely glint in her eyes and gave in. Opening the door, he reached down to pull her swiftly inside. He made no move to prevent the cats from leaping in as well; then he slammed the door, and Lysons urged the team on.

  Chapter 30

  As Martin and Tansy drove off at speed for Wareham, Sir Julian, Hermione, and Liza were in the library at Chelworth. Liza was eating a piece of toast that Sir Julian had offered her. “I do hope your lieutenant gets there in time,” she said, then winked at Hermione. “A proper tasty morsel he is, eh? Just about the tastiest naval officer I’ve ever clapped eyes on.”