"What happened?"
With a stuttering breath, Clarine told him about the constables coming in to arrest Sarah and Quentin. For some reason, no matter what she did or how frightened she had been, she could not stop herself from feeling a pang of sympathetic terror for the pair. Was there any saving them? Had they always hated her and felt nothing but anger at her place?
"What do you think, Lucas? Is there a way they could be innocent?"
Lucas shrugged, looking as torn as she did. "I have seen the most gentle men turn out to be monsters. I have seen terrible people with the most proper manners. I don't know."
He paused for a moment. "All I know is that if it would keep you safe, I might not care who went to the gaol."
She laughed a little at his pronouncement, and he glanced at her.
"Do you doubt I mean it?"
"Not at all. God, but I wish I had met you a year ago."
"I feel as if I have known you all my life."
"Well, I suppose it might be romantic, but a year ago... oh, it would have been so different."
Lucas tilted her face up with a finger on her chin, looking deep into her eyes. "You are evasive when it comes to your past, you know. Will you ever tell it to me?"
In truth, she had never intended to do so. That was her father's plan at any rate, that she would simply appear at Hartford Hall, a lady born, if hidden. He wanted her to enter high society so very seamlessly that he had never thought to consider what she might like.
"What happens if I will not tell you?"
"Then I hope you change your mind. Who you were matters very little to me. Who you are... that's who I care for."
She felt her throat close up against the tears that threatened. At that moment, she knew that no matter what happened, even if he was telling her a lie about how he would react to her story, she loved him.
"All right. It's not a terribly long story, but it is strange. You see, my mother was of the demimonde."
Lucas stared at her. "Your mother was a courtesan?"
"She called herself an adventuress, yes. She told me about her lovers when I was young, told me how gallant and handsome they were, but also that when she met my father, it was all over for her. It was a death and a new life she said, untouched except by him ever after."
Clarine looked anxiously into Lucas's face, looking for any sign of disgust or disdain. Some days, she felt as if she could bear any type of insult so long as they did not mock her mother as well.
"Does that disgust you?"
"Should it? I have known courtesans of immense beauty and honor."
She smiled at him, though privately she wondered all over again at a man like Lucas who could know such things.
"So, she fell in love with my father, who was married to a woman who did not love him. She made his life a misery, and so he hid my mother, and then I, away. We traveled to meet him, we had the most splendid holidays, and Lucas, you must believe me that he loved us so very much."
"If your mother was anything like you, I could understand why."
"She was someone who people loved without thinking about it, whether she was buying gloves in London or shopping for oranges in Mersin. She was so wonderful, everyone thought so."
Clarine took a deep breath.
"Two years ago, she fell sick. My father could not come to meet her, and she died asking for him. I was... I was furious. I was heartbroken. I closed myself up in the house he had bought for us, and I refused to see him."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Clarine..."
"I should have. God, I should have. He came twice, and both times I turned him away with the most awful shouts."
"And then?"
"And then things kept as they were until a year ago. I got word that he died. I got word that I was now his heir."
"But how—"
"There were papers that said he had secretly married my mother just six months before she died, a very short time after his own wife died. They married in secret, but there were iron-clad witnesses and the word of an important member of the church. They were married, and that made me his legitimate heir. Suddenly, I went from being the child of a courtesan to the wealthiest heiress in the western part of England."
"And then your cousins descended."
"They did. They were the heirs to my father's estate unless he produced children, and they had no idea what in the world I was doing here or who I was."
Lucas's arm tightened around her. "They were your family. They should have welcomed you."
"Even if they knew who my mother was?"
"Your mother sounds like a woman of great heart. She produced one of the loveliest girls I have ever known, beautiful, kind, and gracious. That more than anything else is her recommendation to others, don't you think?"
Clarine listened carefully, but she could hear no sign of disgust or distaste in his voice. Instead, Lucas looked at her as he had before, with eyes that were warm and sweet, and her heart felt as if it would burst.
I always thought that if I told someone the truth about all of this, they would shame me. Instead, there is only love.
She knew that there were many things to be done. She needed to see to the running of the estate, to figure out what would become of Sarah and Quentin, to find some way to comfort Mason. Instead, she simply curled under Lucas's arm and for just another moment, she shut it out.
* * *
16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
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Lucas knew that it was past time to confess his true identity to Clarine. His deception was acceptable somewhat, but in light of her frank and fascinating confession to him the night before, he knew that to go further without telling her would seem like a kind of betrayal.
However, he was kept back by the fact that he was vain.
He couldn't stand the idea of telling her that he was a marquis while wearing clothes that still stank of horse, when the only things he had to hand were the uniforms she herself had provided.
After she had returned to her rooms, Lucas spent the rest of the night pacing back and forth, thinking about what was to be done. He would send to Marcus, who could come with all his things, he decided. Marcus would also provide the confirmation of his position, and then?
Well, Marcus could also deliver a ring from London just as easily as a messenger could.
Despite these plans, however, Lucas could not help but maintain a certain amount of worry in the back of his head. Two days after their arrest, Clarine went to see her cousins, who, of course, protested their innocence. His hands still curled into fists when he thought of how difficult that had been for Clarine. She had gotten them both placed in comfortable rooms rather than the common cells. Their cases would be heard at the assizes in high summer, and there their innocence could be decided or ended.
I should be thrilled this is all over.
Of course, things were not helped by Mason, who went around looking as if his heart had been cut out. Clarine had told Lucas about the desperate plea he had made to her when his siblings were taken away, and it had not improved his liking for the man at all.
When he had first met Mason, Lucas rather thought that he would not have noticed the man if he'd passed him in the street, just one more good-looking London swell. Now there was something hangdog about him, something that made Lucas nervous if not angry.
"His eyes are always watching me," Clarine said one night in the grooms' quarters. "Like he bet his chance for salvation on me, and I have failed to deliver."
Lucas growled. "Every real man knows he must find salvation in himself. He's lucky he wasn't taken away as an accessory to his siblings."
Clarine's laugh was so sad it made his heart ache. "I would hate to lose all of my relatives at one go. It sounds careless, does it not?"
Clarine had lost so much over the past few years. No matter how much he d
isliked Mason, he couldn't find it in his heart to want the man gone entirely. He was the only family Clarine had left, and he hated the idea of her losing more.
Instead, he waited patiently for Marcus to appear, and he kept an eye on Mason, who seemed to be close at hand whenever Clarine was walking in the gardens or seeing to her horses.
Finally, almost ten days after the constables had come, he received word from Marcus that he had arrived at the local inn, a rather shabby establishment by the name of the Red Gryphon.
He told the household staff he was taking a half-day of leave, and he trotted down the lane with one of the cobs that were kept from in the stable for several different purposes. It was hardly regulation for a mere groom to do so, but he thought to himself that a marquis might be excused for the impromptu loan of a horse, especially if he came with such an offer for the lady of the house.
As promised, Marcus was waiting in the common rooms of the inn, looking dubiously at the pale liquid they were passing off as beer. He took one look at his friend and burst into laughter, making Lucas give him a rather tart look.
"Go ahead, get it out of your system."
"Forgive me, I hardly meant for this to be our first meeting in weeks, but can you blame me? You look as if you have been rejected from every hire fair from here to Scotland."
"I'll have you know that I have been gainfully employed this whole time."
"God, your father must be rolling over in his grave to think of his son in service."
"It has certainly been an edifying experience, though right now, I am pleased that I have the ability to leave it. My clothes, please?"
Marcus handed the bag over, and Lucas went up to one of the rooms to change. A girl brought up a steaming basin of water, and he washed himself thoroughly, sighing at the pleasure of being completely clean again.
If she loved me as a stable hand, she must certainly love me as a marquis... right?
When he was dressed in the clothes of his station—sparkling white shirt, waistcoat, dark trousers, Hessian boots and a coat of green superfine wool—Lucas felt more himself than he had in ages.
The innkeeper stared at him as he came down the stairs, and he tossed the man a grin. "There's a bay cob out front that belongs at Hartford Hall. Make sure it gets back there, all right?"
He threw the man a shilling from the fat purse that Marcus had brought him and walked back over to his friend, who was watching the entire thing with an amused smile on his face.
"You are going to be embarrassing some people over the way they treated you, aren't you?"
"I sincerely hope not. Now tell me, please, did you remember the rest?"
"Of course, I did. What do you take me for?"
Marcus handed Lucas a small wooden box, and after a peek inside, Lucas sighed with relief.
"That's not like you, friend, to be hung up on such trifles."
"You think not? Well, come on. You're going to meet Lady Waverly, and you will know very soon why I need everything to be just perfect."
* * *
It felt strange and at once right to be riding up the main drive to Hartford Hall. He imagined the stunned expressions of the servants he had met and the butler, but when he rang the bell, he was greeted by a frightened-looking man who looked ill at ease.
"Please tell the lady of the house that the Marquis of Campion is here to call upon her."
"Er, I beg your pardon my lord, but the lady is not at home."
Lucas exchanged a look with Marcus, and before the footman could ask for his calling card, he stepped into the hall.
"And where might she be? I know for damned sure that she is not riding or taking her carriage out."
The footman stammered something oblique, but then the housekeeper approached. Mrs. MacDougal was an older woman with a ferocity that could tame the French if only they let her at them, but right now, there was a look of barely controlled panic on her face.
"Oh, what is the matter right... Lucas! What in the world are you doing in the front hall? And in some kind of stolen clothing?"
"No worries for theft, Mrs. MacDougal, and I suppose it is redundant to tell you that you must be looking for a new groom sooner rather than later. Only what is going on? Where's Lady Waverly?"
The housekeeper wrung her hands, something he was relatively sure was beyond the stalwart lady.
"That's the problem! We don't know. We heard a fight in the stable yard with her cousin, and then they were gone!"
Lucas felt his face go ashen with fear. Marcus was trying to get his attention, but he shook him off. Instead, he headed back to the stable, only stopping to snap at a footman to call the constables.
Clarine... Clarine, no matter what is happening, please, just hold on...
* * *
17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
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It had all happened so fast. One moment she was arguing with Mason in the stable yard. She supposed she had been careless, simply wanting to go to see Lucas in the middle of the day. She had had an excuse, wanting to bring some treats to Lady, and as she was thinking about simply getting to be with Lucas, she had met Mason there.
He had looked strange to her, wild-eyed and more than a little unsettling.
"You were supposed to love me."
"Mason, what? What in the world are you speaking of?"
"You... you were supposed to fall in love with me, and yet... yet you won't."
Clarine took a step back from him, his words frightening her less than his tone. "Mason, you are not thinking straight. Please, before you say something you'll regret—"
That was when he had lunged at her, and she realized with a deep sinking feeling in her gut that there was no one there to help her. Lucas wasn't in the stable, the gardeners were on the other side of the house, and the house servants were within the walls. She started to shout, to scream, but Mason's hand clamped over her mouth and then a foul rag was shoved in, making her gag.
"Very well, bitch, if you won't love me, then I will simply find my inheritance another way."
Oh, God, it was Mason. It was Mason all along...
He threw her over the withers of a rawboned gray gelding and they set off at a ground-eating pace. She couldn't struggle or risk falling to the ground and being trampled by the hooves of the horse. All she had was the bag of apples still clutched in her hand, with several small green apples in them. They were the kind Lady loved, and she could only pray that the green would be noticeable on the path.
She dropped the first when they gained the west road, another when they took a turn toward the open countryside. Mason seemed not to notice, as concerned as frantic as he was. he was still talking, more to himself than to her, and she realized with a lurching in her gut that her eldest cousin was no longer rational.
Oh, my god. He's too far gone to worry about hiding his tracks. He's just going to kill me...
When he finally pulled his mount to a halt, she saw with a sickening lurch of fear that they were back in the ravine where her captor had taken her the day of the earl's hunt, where that same captor had died, she realized, after speaking with Mason.
"You killed him, didn't you? That man you hired to kidnap me..."
Mason slid off the horse and tugged her down as well. When she tried to bolt from him, he caught her again and gave her a careless cuff across the face.
"Of course, I did. Did it frighten you, cousin, when you thought you had killed him? It would have been your first kill. That is seldom easy."
She shuddered at the cold level quality of his voice. There was something deadly about him, and she knew that whatever he did, he would not be sorry for it.
"You killed him, you were the one who gave us the information about Sarah and about Quentin both... your own siblings, why would you do that?"
"I would have gotten them out after we were married. You must not thi
nk that I am a monster. They are my family. I love my family."
"I am your family as well—"
She gasped as he struck her so hard she fell to the ground.
He loomed over her, and she thought then that he might kill her.
"Bitch! You are no family of mine! Your mother was a whore, who bewitched my uncle, and you were the result! The fortune should have been ours!"
Once Upon an Earl_Heirs of High Society_A Regency Romance Book Page 32
