by Mary Brendan
‘I met William yesterday when in town,’ Dawn said. ‘I know his aunt as she used to work at the vicarage. I thought he seemed nice.’ Dawn had reeled that off as Sarah fell quiet. Indeed, she had thought William a polite young fellow and his aunt had had good things to say about him. But what on earth would Jack’s opinion be of Sarah’s bombshell news that she intended to jilt him to wed a sailor?
‘You liked him...really?’ Sarah demanded in an animated way, then clapped her hands at Dawn’s nod. ‘You must tell Jack you like William. He will listen to you as you are good friends. At first Jack tried to stop me seeing William, but I said I’d never forgive him if he did.’ She frowned. ‘He wants to protect me, but I won’t be wrapped in cotton wool or spied on by nursemaids. I like my freedom and when they won’t let me have it I give them the slip. She grinned cheekily. ‘I use the small side door in the back hall to go outside. One of the footmen meets his sweetheart by the stables and slips out that way, too, I’ve seen him. He keeps a key hidden under the vase.’
Dawn didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want Jack to think she’d had a hand in persuading his fiancée to jilt him. Before she could consider an appropriate reply Sarah carried on blithely.
‘I know it will be a relief to Jack when I set him free. I know he’d sooner be a bachelor again. But he is an honourable gentleman and will find it difficult to go back on his word to my father, so he might object.’
‘I expect he will understand... He wouldn’t want to make you unhappy,’ Dawn murmured the first platitude that came into her head. A burgeoning joy was swelling in her chest...a glimmer of hope that she and Jack might soon be a proper couple and not need to hide how they felt about one another.
‘Jack is very kind and generous to me and very handsome. I just don’t like him in the way a wife should like a husband in order to have children. He is nearly as old as my papa.’ Sarah sighed. ‘I’m glad he will have somebody as kind as you to turn to when I jilt him. Actually, as you’re a widow, I hope he marries you instead of her. You’re much nicer than she is,’ Sarah whispered conspiratorially, ‘He thinks I don’t know he has a special friend. He takes Pauline to the opera and the theatre. When I’m with him, though, she’s lucky to receive a nod in passing if we bump into her. Oh, I didn’t mean to make you blush.’ Sarah looked apologetic. ‘I thought you’d be aware of Jack’s popularity with the ladies.’ She sighed. ‘I’m not very ladylike, am I, talking about such things?’
Dawn felt as though she’d been dealt a physical blow. But she managed a mild reply. ‘I think you’re a nice young lady, Sarah. And I’m glad you like me best out of Jack’s friends.’ She got up and approached the sideboard to look at the food while composing herself.
All the recent dramas that she and Jack had battled together, and the closeness they’d shared while protecting and nurturing Lily, had made her forget about Jack’s mistress. Just because she’d forgotten about her didn’t mean that Jack had. Was Pauline the blonde woman he’d been with on Regent Street? Or had he an attachment to another woman as well? Dawn knew he regretted as bitterly as she did that they had not married years ago. But that was then. What of now?
She had taken for granted that she was the only love in his life...the one woman he would choose to be his wife. He’d told her he wanted her and that she had his heart, but he had never actually said that he still wished to marry her.
Sarah came up behind Dawn and gave her a hug. ‘I’m so glad you’ve met William. I know he must like you as much as I do.’
‘Does he feel the same way about you and want to marry you?’ Dawn asked, pinning a smile to her lips as she turned about.
‘Oh, yes.’ Sarah’s eyes sparkled as she dwelled on her beau. ‘William told me I’m the most beautiful girl he’s ever met. He told me so again after I admitted that bad things had happened to me in Tangier. He said that made no difference to how he felt about me, but he would sail to Tangier in his boat and kill every pirate he found.’ Sarah giggled and flipped a hand. ‘I told him there was no need to as they’d all gone now. He believes I deserve to be rich and well cared for as a viscountess, though my wedding will break his heart.’ Sarah’s eyes held a fiercely possessive glint when she added, ‘But I shan’t let another girl mend his heart. I want him and we shall get married.’ Sarah sounded stubborn. She skipped to the window, gazing out. ‘Sometimes he comes and stops in the field over there just to catch a glimpse of me.’ She gazed up at the drizzle. ‘I don’t suppose he’ll come today, though.’
Dawn joined Sarah at the window. A short while ago she’d stood here and yearned for Jack to thunder into view on his horse. Now she felt reluctant to see him until she’d worked out what to say to him. For his part, what would he say? How would he take his fiancée’s rejection? Would his conscience allow him to break that blood pact with Sarah’s father?
And if he did, what then? Dawn wished now she had demanded some answers about his other women. Failing to do so might have made it seem that she’d tolerate his dalliances because he’d not made any effort to hide the fact he had lady friends in his life. In fact, he’d approached her while out shopping with one of them. If they were to be together, Dawn would want him exclusively to herself. There would be no compromise on that. She was too staid...too conventional, she realised. Her modest upbringing and her convenient marriage had taught her nothing of glamour or worldliness...nothing much of the needs and wants of men either. And Jack had now moved even further away from her into an elevated social circle where wealth and pedigree often mattered more than morals did.
She loved him with every fibre of her being, yet had never properly told him so. Neither had he spoken those three vital words to her. An obstacle had always blocked their path to being a proper couple and what point would there have been in pledging love and fidelity when such promises might prove impossible to keep? Perhaps fate had been kind, not cruel, preventing her baring her soul and putting her heart and pride in jeopardy. She hadn’t long to wait now to know for sure what sort of man Jack Valance was. Next week he would in all probability be free and able to make an unforced choice. So which woman, if any, would he pick to marry?
* * *
Peter Mansfield had been crouching down, removing flint from the graveyard wall, when he spied Viscount Sterling, long riding coat flying out behind him, riding hell for leather in the direction of the town. Hastily Peter shoved inside the hidey hole the message alerting his smuggler colleagues to dangers closing in on them, then rammed home the loose stones to hide the scrap of paper. It seemed he’d penned the warning not a moment too soon. He’d a nasty suspicion that Sterling was on his way to the court to tell tales. And if he were, then Dawn Fenton or the Viscount must have turned up something to use as proof against him. Leaping upright, Peter hoisted his cassock from his feet and dashed in the direction of the dog cart stationed on the lane. Scrambling aboard, he used the reins, determined to follow at a distance and discover what Sterling was up to. He hunched forward as the vehicle picked up speed, his narrowed eyes fixed on a blur of horse and rider up ahead, his mind ferreting for an explanation as to how he could have been betrayed.
Something had obviously come to light, but what the devil could it be? His wife was dead; her lover was dead. But Ben Grove’s brother had come ashore, perhaps to wreak mischief. Peter had spotted William Grove on the High Street, but the fellow hadn’t shown any obvious interest in him. Besides, if William had guessed, or been told by his brother, about his affair with Eleanor, it was only hearsay now the adulterers were gone. The dead couldn’t speak.
As Eleanor’s husband, and a pillar of the community, the Reverend Peter Mansfield would deny everything and display his outrage at the slur on his wife’s memory. Still he was growing increasingly anxious. He had a cargo of contraband buried in tombs in the churchyard and another due to cross the Channel very soon. He didn’t want dragoons or Revenue men snooping around at such a crucial time. With that t
hought nagging at him, he swung an agitated look over the countryside for pursuers, then spurred the tired old mare to a faster pace.
Once he knew what Sterling was about he’d return and gather his men together. He had a plan of his own.
Chapter Nineteen
Was the vicar under arrest? Was Jack safe? Would she soon be going home to London with her beloved granddaughter? Dawn knew if she didn’t soon receive some answers to these questions, uncertainty would drive her mad.
She took another turn about the room, taking care to be quiet. She didn’t want to wake the rose salon’s other occupants. Sarah had curled up at the opposite end of the long sofa to where Lily was softly snoring. The patter of rain on glass and the crackle and hiss of logs in the grate were somnolent sounds and Dawn could understand how the girls had been lulled into slumber. Dawn would have liked to catch up on some sleep, too, but her restlessness had denied her a blissful snooze, ensconced in a fireside armchair.
For the umpteenth time she gazed out of the window, her eyes immediately drawn to the long empty drive stretching into the distance. The rain had stopped; a glimmer of weak sun had put a silver halo about the clouds and a glitter on the wet green grass.
Her flitting eyes returned to a thicket where she’d noticed a dark shadow beneath low branches. Her heart leapt to her mouth and she prayed that Mansfield wasn’t skulking about. She squinted, making out the shape of a horse and rider. Thankfully it wasn’t the vicar and she expelled a pent-up breath. She’d recognised William Grove’s silhouette from his peaked cap. Perhaps realising he was under observation, he urged the horse further beneath the dripping leaves.
So...he had braved the weather and come to be close to his love. Dawn glanced over her shoulder at Sarah, her cheek pillowed on her hands as she napped. Dawn didn’t know whether to wake her and let her know William was close by. She decided not to. Jack wouldn’t want Sarah to go outside and, besides, she looked so content. But Dawn was far from content...
On impulse she whipped noiselessly towards the door. Once in the corridor she hurried in the direction of the exit that Sarah had told her she used when sneaking out to meet William. Dawn didn’t want him to disappear before she’d had a chance to speak to him. She took the key from under the vase, unlocked the door, then closed it noiselessly behind her. She found herself standing on the gravel of a quadrangle. Swiftly she got her bearings, then set off at a trot towards the west. The puddled path soaked her shoes and her skin collected dew from the damp atmosphere as she hurried on, but she barely felt the discomfort.
William was Lily’s uncle. Her granddaughter had a close blood relative...the only one left to her that Dawn was aware of. She desperately wanted to know if William was also aware of it, or if he knew how his brother had died. William had taken unusual notice of Lily when they’d met in town, as though searching for a resemblance. Now she dwelled on it, Dawn knew there was a family likeness. Lily’s colouring and neat features were similar to her uncle’s, although fortunately her mother had also been fair.
Fired by a compulsion to have some answers, Dawn put on a spurt. William had spotted her approaching and was making ready to turn the horse and leave. ‘Oh, please wait, I should like to speak to you, sir. Don’t go.’
He doffed his hat politely, then hesitated before dismounting and tucking the cap beneath his arm. ‘Good day to you, Mrs Fenton.’
‘Good day to you, sir,’ she replied a trifle breathlessly after her dash.
‘The rain has stopped at last,’ he blurted out, obviously seeking some small talk as a prelude to escaping.
‘Yes, thank goodness it has... Are you hoping to speak to Sarah this afternoon?’
His complexion, weather-beaten from seafaring, became ruddier beneath his tan. But her comment had stopped him in his tracks as she’d hoped it would. ‘I... Yes, it would be nice to see her, m’m. Sometimes we chat if Miss Snow is out walking.’
‘I know, she told me.’ Dawn wanted to gain his trust and find out what she could, then quickly return to the house before she was missed. ‘Forgive me, I know we are barely acquainted, but there is no time for niceties. Something extraordinary has come to light and I find I must speak plainly and rather indelicately. Were you aware that your brother and Eleanor Mansfield were lovers and that Lily is your niece?’
His eyes widened on her. ‘Who told you that, ma’am?’ he demanded in a low, husky voice.
‘Eleanor,’ Dawn replied bluntly. ‘How did you find out?’ She hadn’t needed to wait for his reply; she could read his knowledge in his wary expression. Months ago Mrs Grove had told her of the miserable atmosphere at the vicarage, and hinted at dark deeds going on. Had the woman guessed her nephew had sired Lily and been murdered by the vicar? Or had she just been warning Dawn against straying outside after dark and encountering the smugglers?
In her letter Eleanor had made it clear she’d never confided in a soul about any of it, for fear they, too, might be in peril from the devil she’d married. She had wanted to flee to Ben Grove and take Lily with her, she’d written, but Mansfield had pre-empted them, killing Ben before the lovers could humiliate him. Thereafter Eleanor had been kept as a virtual prisoner in her own home, constantly anxious for her own and Lily’s safety. She had been forced to submit to her husband’s demands to provide an heir and had fallen pregnant. The vicar had thus lost his son through his own stupidity by refusing to call the doctor to Eleanor. A harsh justice indeed for the innocents concerned.
Dawn was determined the vicar wouldn’t thwart her in carrying out her stepdaughter’s final wish. Lily must be protected from the sadistic bully at all cost and she must pick William’s brains for any small thing that might help her in the doing of it.
‘Did your aunt guess the truth about the affair during her time as housekeeper at the vicarage and tell you of her suspicions?’ Dawn prompted William for an answer.
William shook his head, looking grave. ‘I don’t think my aunt knew about the affair or that the child was related to her. My brother lived in the next village and didn’t see much of Mrs Grove. They didn’t get on—she disapproved of the way he earned his living.’ Sibling loyalty prevented him condemning his dead brother, although William had also wished Ben had followed another path.
‘I know he was a free trader... Eleanor let on about that in her letter,’ Dawn said.
‘My aunt suspected the vicar of being involved in smuggling from noticing what went on around the church at night time. But she avoids speaking of any of it. Most folk round here plead ignorance if questioned by Revenue men for fear of reprisals.’ William paused before admitting, ‘I was close to Ben and could tell he was troubled. I nagged him until eventually he told me all of it. He predicted it would end badly with Mansfield and it did.’ William rubbed his chin with his hand, looking thoughtful. ‘I’m surprised that Mrs Mansfield confided in you. They took pains to keep the matter secret to protect the child from being branded a bastard. Ben would have done anything for Eleanor and their daughter. He said he’d die for them.’ William frowned as though unsure whether to continue. But too much had been aired now not to conclude the sorry tale prised from his brother a short while before he was murdered. ‘The vicar had discovered the affair. He’d followed Eleanor to a cottage where they’d meet and threatened my brother with a pistol before dragging his wife home. After that she vowed never to meet Ben again, but secretly they planned to run away together. Mansfield found out...he is a cunning wretch.’ William’s mouth tightened into a bitter line. ‘He made sure she couldn’t cheat on him again.’
‘You suspect he murdered your brother, don’t you?’ Dawn whispered.
‘I know he did.’ William gave harsh laugh. ‘The vicar recruits his colleagues from the Kent area so folk round here can’t betray him or say for sure he is a criminal. But Ben knew; he ran his own gang and thus was Mansfield’s business rival as well. He knew Mansfield would want him permanently
out of the way to kill two birds with one stone. The villain managed to protect his reputation as a husband and a smuggling lord within the fraternity. And it seems he has got away with it.’
‘He hasn’t got away with it!’ Dawn shook William’s arm in comfort as she saw the sheen in his eyes. ‘He will be punished, I promise. Viscount Sterling knows about all of this. He left hours ago to report everything we know to the magistrate and put in motion the vicar’s arrest.’ Dawn’s eyes swerved to the drive and she willed Jack to appear. He should hear what William had to say. Lily’s uncle could also bear witness against Mansfield and relate what Ben Grove had said before he was silenced.
‘But without any hard proof...’ William sighed disconsolately.
‘I have proof.’ Dawn again closed her fingers on his arm in comfort and reassurance. ‘Before she died, Eleanor wrote me a letter that has only just come into my possession. It is a damning report of the vicar’s crimes and of his hatred for Lily. Eleanor fretted for her daughter’s safety from the moment Mansfield wrung the truth of Lily’s parentage from her. I am also greatly worried for my granddaughter. The vicar is cruelly cold to her.’
‘Lily’s my kin and he’ll not harm her.’ William ejected the vow through his teeth. ‘I should have killed Mansfield last night. I had the chance. I’ve been wanting to do it since my brother’s murder. But now...’ He tailed off into silence.
