by Anne Herries
‘My dearest love,’ she whispered, then bent and kissed his forehead. ‘Please try to love me, Nicolas. I do love you so.’
She got up and walked to the door between them, shutting it softly. Behind her Nicolas stirred, but did not wake from his pleasant dream.
Lottie had spent the day visiting and taking tea with ladies she had met and liked. They were, like her, interested in improving the lot of the poor and under-privileged and she had been asked if she would join a debating society. She had explained that she would be leaving for the country soon, but would be pleased to join them in Bath later in the year.
Returning home with Henrietta, she went upstairs to change for the ball that evening. She was standing in her petticoat when the door to Nicolas’s room was flung open and he came striding in.
‘You may attend your mistress when she sends for you,’ he flung at the maid, who shot a terrified glance at Lottie and scurried off. ‘Well, Lottie,’ Nicolas fixed his angry gaze on her. ‘I see you are not yet wearing your diamonds. May I fasten them for you?’
Lottie swallowed hard, hesitating. ‘I…the clasp was not quite right for me, Nicolas. I have sent them to the jeweller’s to be mended.’
‘Indeed?’ His mouth thinned to a hard line. ‘Then it is as well that he sent for me and I was able to collect them for you, was it not?’ He took something from his pocket and she saw the glitter of diamonds hanging from his fingers.
‘Oh…’ Lottie gasped, her heart sinking. She had been hoping she might somehow recover them—that Clarice might repent and return them to her. ‘Where—I mean, how did you find them?’
‘The jeweller recognised them. It was not clever of you to take them to a prestigious London dealer, Lottie. Unfortunately for you, his was the firm I used to have them cleaned and reset. He knew them instantly and you, my dear. I suppose you have run through your allowance. You should have asked me for more money if you needed it—they are worth far more than he paid you, perhaps because he knew he would need to return them to me—for a small consideration, naturally.’
‘He couldn’t have…’ Lottie said but knew that her sister was enough like her for a stranger to be certain he was dealing with the Marchioness of Rothsay. ‘Nicolas…it wasn’t the way it seems…’
‘Was it not, my dear?’ His voice cut her like broken glass. ‘In my opinion, theft is always as it seems, a most sordid business. I told you the necklace was an heirloom. You must have known that meant you had no right to sell the diamonds.’
Lottie turned away from the accusation in his eyes. ‘You should not have left them where you did, Nicolas. I did not ask you for such a valuable gift—they were a temptation for anyone.’
‘Are you saying you did not sell them? The man told me he served you himself.’
‘Well, I am sure he was right,’ Lottie said. ‘You called me a thief when we first met, Rothsay. It is your own fault for marrying me. You knew that I was as bad as the rest of my family, did you not? I am sorry it has cost you money to get the diamonds back. Perhaps in future you will not leave them lying around. I certainly have no wish to wear them.’
‘Lottie?’ Nicolas looked at her uncertainly. She turned on him then, her eyes blazing. ‘What? You are angry—but if you did not…your sister? Did she ask you for money?’ Lottie was silent. ‘No…has she been here? Did she take them? Or did you give them to her? Has that been the plan all the time—to get what you could from me for your wretched family?’
She recoiled as if he had slapped her. How could he think that of her—how could he?
Lottie refused to answer him. ‘Please leave me now, Nicolas—and take your diamonds with you. I have a headache and shall not be attending the Duchess’s ball this evening. If you intend to go, please make my excuses if you will.’
‘Not go?’ Nicolas glared at her. ‘Why will you not answer me? If I have accused you falsely, tell me.’
‘I feel most unwell. Please allow me to rest.’
‘Very well.’ He inclined his head stiffly. ‘If I was misinformed, I apologise.’
‘You are forgiven. Goodnight, Rothsay.’
Nicolas stared at her in silence for a moment, then turned and walked from the room. Lottie stood where she was for a moment, staring at the door. She was hurting too much to weep. There was no relief for her in tears after what Nicolas had said to her. She had thought that he had begun to care a little, but even after she had given him all the love inside her he could still believe that she was a thief. Yes, she ought to have told him the truth at once. Lottie acknowledged her fault, but he ought to have known that she would never steal from him. Why should she when he had been so generous? It was obvious that she had still to gain the trust of her husband.
She looked about her, wondering what to do. She could not stay here a moment longer. Nor could she return to Rothsay Manor. Her pride had been hurt as well as her heart. She wanted to be alone for a while. The only place open to her was her father’s house—she wanted nothing that Nicolas had given her. At this moment she did not know what she would do in the future, but for now she wanted to be as far away from Nicolas and those cold, cold eyes as possible.
She would send for her maid, pack a small trunk with the most inexpensive clothes she could find and leave tonight while Nicolas was out. She would take none of the jewels he had given her, but she must borrow a horse and carriage, for she had given all her money to Clarice. The future looked bleak, but at this moment she could only feel; her mind was too numb to imagine what she would do with the rest of her life.
Much later that night Nicolas knocked at the door of his wife’s room. There was no answer. Frowning, he opened the door and walked into her bedchamber. It was empty, as was her boudoir, as he discovered a moment or two later. A cold shiver went down his spine. Lottie had claimed to have a headache, so where had she gone?
He rang the bell and a few moments later a maid appeared. He did not think she was the one who usually waited on Lottie.
‘Where is my wife?’
‘She left earlier this evening, my lord. She sent for the carriage and went out with Rose, her ladyship’s maid. They took a small trunk and a portmanteau with them, sir.’
‘Did my wife receive bad news? Did she say where she was going?’
‘I do not think so, my lord. I do not know if she received a letter, but I think she did not leave word of where she would be.’
Nicolas swore beneath his breath, then, ‘Thank you, girl—do you happen to know if my wife had any visitors yesterday?’
‘I’m not sure, sir. Shall I ask Mrs Barret?’
‘No, I will do that myself, thank you. You may go.’
Nicolas waited until she had gone, then went to the closet and opened it. Most of Lottie’s things were still there. Her jewel case was lying on the bed. He picked it up, opened it and saw that everything he or his relatives had given her was still there. The only things she had taken were her aunt’s pearls, the diamond star her father had given her and various trinkets she had owned before she married him.
‘No!’ he cried in anguish. ‘Lottie, damn it. Why didn’t you tell me the truth?’
Nicolas felt the cold seep through him. He should have known Lottie would not sell those wretched diamonds. Why on earth had he lost his temper and accused her of being a thief? His anger had been a mixture of annoyance at the jeweller’s manner in confiding in him that the marchioness had pawned her jewels and the meeting he had seen between Lottie and Hunter in the park.
What had he done? Nicolas was certain that she had left him—but where would she go?
Surely she would be at Rothsay? She was angry with him, but she wouldn’t just leave him without saying goodbye—would she?
He had left her without a word. Why should she imagine he would care two pence where she was when he had accused her of a crime she had not committed?
She had lied to him, pretending that the necklace was having the clasp repaired. No doubt he had taken her by surprise. She must
have been protecting her sister.
The jeweller did not know Lottie. If he saw Clarice he would assume that she was the marchioness. They were enough alike to be mistaken for one another if you did not know them. Nicolas would not be fooled for a moment, but he imagined that many people might.
The servants were not sure there had been a visitor on the morning he left the diamonds lying on the dressing table, but seen from a distance they also would take Clarice for her sister.
What a fool he was not to have known that at the start. It was the fault of his damnable temper—and the suspicious nature that had not quite believed in Lottie’s goodness despite all his senses telling him that she was as sweet and good as she was beautiful—and he loved her.
He had been hiding from the truth for months now. Lottie was the woman he loved and he prayed that she loved him in return—a real, true abiding love that should have lasted for a lifetime.
Had he destroyed it by his careless words? Would Lottie forgive him once more? He knew he had hurt her too many times. Why should she care for him? He knew that he did not deserve she should—and yet he could not give her up.
Striding into his own bedchamber, he summoned his valet. He would go down to Rothsay. If she was not there, he would search for her until he found her.
‘No, Lottie has not come here,’ Aunt Beth said and frowned when Nicolas asked if his wife was upstairs. ‘I thought she was enjoying herself in London with you?’
‘She was—we quarrelled and she left without a word.’
‘Whatever did you say to her, Rothsay? That is not like my Lottie. You must know that she is the most loving, caring of women and a true lady.’
‘Yes, she is,’ Nicolas admitted. ‘It is all my fault. I said things—things that I had no right to say. It is hardly to be wondered at that she grew tired of me and left me.’
‘Are you sure she has left you?’
‘She took only a few clothes and jewels that came from you or her father. Everything I had given her was left behind. I have had it all sent down here, but if she is not here…’
Aunt Beth looked at him accusingly. ‘You must have hurt her badly, sir. Lottie could not have done anything to deserve it. I know her. She is honest and loving, as different from—’ Aunt Beth broke off and shook her head. ‘Where can she be?’
‘Would she have gone to her father’s house?’
‘If she has, it will avail her nothing, sir. Her father has closed the house and put it and the land up for sale. He says that he sees no point in trying to keep up appearances now and will manage better without the estate somewhere abroad.’
‘What of Lottie’s sister?’
‘Clarice visited the house just before I returned here. She said she needed money, but I had only a few pounds to give her. I had given her money before and so had Lottie. She did say that she was going to ask Lottie for money—apparently, she believed it was owed her, because Lottie had everything and she had nothing.’
‘Indeed?’ Nicolas’s mouth thinned. ‘I suppose that means she intended to blackmail Lottie?’
‘Lottie is fond of her sister, despite all, and would give her any money she had to spare, sir—but she would not give her anything that belonged to you.’
‘I all but accused her of doing that very thing! What am I to do, Aunt Beth? Will she forgive me?’
‘Most women would not, but Lottie has a tender heart and she may—but first you must find her.’
‘Yes, I must,’ he said. ‘I shall go to her father’s house immediately. If it has not yet been sold, she may have let herself in. After all, where else could she go?’
Where could she go now? Lottie looked at the boarded-up windows of the house where she had spent her childhood. The notices proclaimed that it had been sold, which meant it was no longer her father’s property.
She could perhaps manage to get in and spend the night, but she would be alone without a fire or food. There was nothing for it but to find an inn and take a room for the night.
‘I am sorry, Rose,’ she told her maid. ‘I had no idea that my father had sold the house. I am not sure where we can stay tonight. I do not have much money, only a few shillings. Perhaps we can find lodgings for that—or maybe the landlord would accept a piece of jewellery?’
‘You will never sell your jewellery, my lady,’ Rose said. ‘There’s no need, for I have three guineas in my reticule. I was paid before we left London and I can pay for our lodgings for one night.’
‘In the morning…we shall go to Rothsay,’ Lottie said and sighed. ‘I have some things of my own there that I can sell. I shall repay you, Rose. Rothsay is your home and you must stay there, for I shall not be able to pay you a wage. It is very good of you to share with me like this.’
‘You would do as much for me,’ Rose said and smiled at her. ‘We’d best tell coachman to take us to the nearest inn, mistress. It is getting late and we could all do with something to eat.’
‘Yes. How sensible you are,’ Lottie said and sighed. ‘I should never have given my sister Clarice all the money I had—but I felt so guilty, because I had so much.’
And now, because of what Clarice had done, she had nothing. Without Nicolas the world was an empty place. The money and jewels had never meant that much to her, but they were a part of his world—and she had wanted to belong to him.
Rose nodded. ‘Sisters are always trouble, miss. Mine used to get into scrapes all the time when we were little and because I was the eldest I got the blame.’
‘Poor Rose. Clarice and I are twins. When we were small no one could tell us apart.’
‘She would be the lady I saw coming from your room then, my lady. She was wearing a hat with veiling, but from a distance I thought it was you—but she didn’t answer when I spoke to her, just ran down the stairs, as if she were in a hurry.’
‘Yes, I dare say she was.’
Lottie’s heart ached. Why had she not put those wretched diamonds away when she went into Nicolas’s room that morning? It had not occurred to her that anyone would steal them—and only her sister would have dreamed of it. Rothsay’s servants were all too honest.
She climbed back into the coach and gave the driver the order to find the nearest inn. She had been in acute distress when she left London, but now despite the pain in her heart, she could think more clearly.
What was she to do with her life? As Rothsay’s wife she had had a purpose: the clearance of the Hollow and the setting up of a school for the tenants’ children were just two of the plans she had made. Even had Nicolas visited only a few times a year, it would have been enough—or would it?
If Lottie were honest with herself, she knew that she wanted much more. She wanted Nicolas to love her as much as she loved him. He wanted her. His lovemaking had been passionate, even desperate at times, but he did not love her.
There was also Aunt Beth to consider. She knew her aunt could not live on her small income. Lottie would have to find work and support them both. Her pride had prevented her taking anything that Nicolas had given her, but perhaps she might accept a small part of the allowance he had made her for her aunt’s sake.
No! She wanted nothing from him. He thought her a thief and a cheat. Somehow she would manage alone—but she must return to Rothsay and collect her things. Perhaps Aunt Beth could remain at the estate until Lottie had had time to find a small cottage for them and a position of some kind, though she hardly knew what she was fitted for. Unless she could be a teacher in a charity school? The wage would be very small, but there might be some accommodation with the job.
The worrying thoughts went round and round in her head. She must find a way of making her living somehow.
Nicolas stared at the empty house. The sold notice meant it was too late. If Lottie came here, she would know she could not stay. Where would she go then?
He wondered how much money she had left from her quarterly allowance. He doubted it could be much after her visit to the fashionable seamstresses in London.
Besides, her aunt said she would have given what she had left to Clarice.
How had her sister managed to steal those wretched diamonds from under Lottie’s nose? She must have turned her back or left the room for a moment, of course. It was his fault for leaving the necklace on the dressing chest instead of giving it to Lottie when he saw her. He wished that he could go back to that day—he would do anything if he could only unsay those awful words.
Lottie might go to Bath—but she had never visited her house there and could not know exactly where it was situated. Besides, if she had not taken her clothes and jewels, she would not think of living in the house he had given her.
Would she try to find work? Had she stayed at an inn? Or would she go to Rothsay? Many of her things were stored there. She would need them if she intended to live independently.
How foolish of her! She could not hope to survive on the wage that she would earn as…a teacher. Yes, he imagined she would try for something of the sort. However he had assuaged some of his guilt over his wife’s hasty departure—he had told Aunt Beth that she was on no account to think of leaving his house.
‘You will oblige me by living here, ma’am, and I shall make certain that you have an allowance—unless you are too proud or angry with me to accept it?’
‘I have no intention of cutting off my nose to spite my face, Rothsay,’ Aunt Beth told him. ‘At my age I cannot afford to be too proud. Besides, I shall pray that Lottie will come to her senses. I feel that she really loves you and would be miserable apart from you. She would be greatly missed here, you know. Everyone loves her.’
‘Yes, I am certain she was meant to be mistress of a house like this and why should she not continue as before? If she cannot forgive me, I will promise to keep my distance—but she is my wife and I shall not divorce her or permit her to divorce me.’
