Far Beyond Rubies

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Far Beyond Rubies Page 10

by Rosemary Morris


  The look in his eyes reminded her of the occasion on which Henrietta had been frightened by the approach of a galloping foal, the animal assuming for her the proportions of a nightmare beast. For a long time, whenever she saw a horse, her eyes became glassy with fear.

  What was William afraid of? Could it be something to do with Ravenstock, who was rumoured to have no scruples about muddying his hands in filthy water? If, as she suspected, her half-brother was defrauding her by depriving her of her rights, the matter could be rectified discreetly. “William, can we not reach an amicable agreement? When all is said and done, both of us loved Father, and he loved us. Do consider how he would grieve to see us pitted against each other. For his sake, let us be friends.”

  William shook his head like a clumsy swimmer emerging from water. “Silence! Stop your sentimental nonsense.” He loomed over her, seized her hands, and then jerked her to her feet. “If you do not want me to tie you up and carry you down the stairs, come with me now.”

  She tried to pull away from him. “You would not dare to do so.”

  He twisted her around. “Would I not?”

  Outraged by his touch, Juliana opened her mouth to scream. From behind her, he slammed a hand over her mouth, and holding her close against his fat body, propelled her out of the parlour onto the landing.

  Did William really think he could kidnap her by daylight? She squirmed and wriggled but could not break his hold.

  William shoved her forward and then down the stairs to the entrance hall. Her heart pounded. Where were Mrs Budgeon, Dick, Betty, and Sukey, who would surely help her? Why were none of the other lodgers at hand to raise the alarm?

  Juliana sagged against William in an attempt to impede his progress. She kicked backward. One of her high-heeled shoes struck his shin.

  William yelped. He clamped his hand over her mouth and nose more firmly. He would suffocate her. God in heaven help her.

  In spite of her frantic struggle to free herself, William shoved her to the door. He opened it with one hand.

  “Unhand the lady,” said Gervaise, who stood on the threshold, hand raised in readiness to rap on the door with the knocker.

  “Lady? She is the devil’s spawn.”

  “Do not use such language either in Mistress Kemp’s presence or when speaking of her,” Gervaise snapped.

  With a steely whisper, Gervaise’s sword slid from its scabbard. Tall, slim but muscular, to Juliana he seemed an incarnation of a militant angel wielding a sword of vengeance. At that moment—a coup de foudre—a metaphorical flash of lightning struck Juliana with the white-hot realisation that she loved Gervaise.

  “Who are you?” William growled.

  “Release the lady. I will not ask you again to unhand her.”

  The power of his voice intensified Juliana’s new-found love. Dizziness overcame her. She feared for Mister Seymour’s life.

  William flung her aside. Juliana crashed into the wall. She stumbled onto the oak floor where she lay curled up in pain. She moved her limbs. Nothing seemed to be broken. She sat up, clasped her knees, and took even breaths. Doubtless she would be badly bruised.

  The moment at which William drew his sword, the point of Gervaise’s sword dealt retribution. It tickled her half-brother’s throat. Inch by inch, it forced William back to the far wall to the right of the stairs. “On your knees, you cur. Apologise to the lady,” Gervaise ordered, his steady tone heavy with menace.

  William dropped his sword. “You misunderstand, sir,” he panted. “This woman is my sister.”

  “Your half-sister,” Gervaise corrected him.

  “Yes, she is my half-sister. As her guardian, I have every right to remove her from London and ensure her safety. So, for pity’s sake, desist.”

  “The only danger I face, William, is you,” Juliana said.

  The sword point pressed forward, a fraction of an inch.

  “You have drawn blood,” William gasped, his eyes more bulbous than ever.

  Gervaise spoke through lips tight with palpable contempt. “Yes, how careless of me.”

  Juliana pushed herself to her feet. “Gervaise, please lower your sword. I shall have my day in court.”

  “As you please, madame.” Gervaise removed the shining blade from William’s throat. He watched William with the alertness of a predator on the attack.

  “Who is this man?” William spluttered. “’Pon my word, Sister, I am shocked by your being intimate enough with him to use his Christian name. Out of my way, sir, or I will summon the watch. You have no right to keep a lady from her guardian.”

  “Lord Kemp, summon the watch if you dare to have your affairs investigated.” Gervaise balanced the tip of his sword on the floor. “You fool! If you declare Mistress Kemp and Mistress Henrietta illegitimate, which I do not believe, you accuse your late father of bigamy. Think of the scandal.”

  William dabbed the blood oozing onto the white lace at his throat with his silk handkerchief. “I do not understand what you mean.”

  “Lord Kemp, if Mistress Kemp challenges you in an English court of law and it decides her mother’s betrothal to Monsieur Sarazzin should have been upheld, to all intents and purposes your father would have been a bigamist.” He grinned. “That would also apply to Monsieur Sarazzin. Even if you had the pleasure of your half-sisters being declared illegitimate, would it not be as pretty a kettle of fish as you ever did see?”

  William goggled as though he could not understand the full implication of Gervaise’s words. After a moment or two, he stammered. “I-indeed, I will not harm either of my sisters. Juliana is penniless. I thought to provide for her by securing honest employment on her behalf.” He glanced from Juliana to Gervaise. “Alas, Sister, I see you prefer to be kept in sin.”

  With a flick of Gervaise’s strong wrist, his sword cut off the top button of William’s waistcoat.

  The men stared at each other. There was utter silence in the hall. William lowered his eyelids. Without a word, he pushed past Gervaise and stumbled out into the street.

  Gervaise’s sword hissed back into its scabbard. “I now understand why you ran away from that unpleasant gentleman.”

  What would have happened if Gervaise had not rescued her? She trembled and stared at him wide-eyed.

  Gervaise held out his arms.

  Without hesitation she nestled into them like a bird safe on its roost. An unfamiliar coil of excitement tightened in the pit of her stomach.

  She looked up at him. Twin sparks blazed in each of his pupils.

  He kissed her forehead.

  The touch of his soft lips ignited a flame deep within her. It sizzled from her toes to her throat. Amazed, Juliana drew in her breath and then swallowed.

  Gervaise kissed the crown of her head. “Come,” he said and guided her up the stairs.

  Fury with William, and the incredible realisation that she loved Gervaise, jostled for space in her mind.

  “May I pour some Madeira wine for you?” she asked when they reached her parlour.

  “Yes, please, allow me to serve you.” Gervaise busied himself with the decanter. “Sit down. Are you hurt? You must be in need of a restorative. It is my pleasure to pour one for you.”

  “Oh, do not concern yourself. Apart from a few bruises, I daresay I have come to no harm.”

  He handed her a glass of wine. “Pyari, it will not do for you to live here.”

  Once more delighted by the endearment, she looked down at her lap and smoothed her petticoat with tremulous fingers eager to hold his hand.

  “With your permission.” Gervaise poured a glass of wine for himself before he sat down. “It seems my visit is opportune.” He smiled wryly. “It is my good fortune to have saved a damsel in distress.”

  She smiled, unable to resist Gervaise’s charm. “Should I reward you in the traditional manner?”

  “No, I will not take advantage of you,” he replied, his cheeks suffused with heightened colour. He cleared his throat. “I had come to tell you urge
nt business calls me away from town, when I saw you struggling with that wretch.”

  Dismayed by the prospect of his absence, she gazed at him. “Will you be gone for long?”

  He shrugged. “Pyari, before I leave for the country, you must move to a place where you will be safe from Lord Kemp.”

  Juliana scrutinised his face, admiring every detail. Why did he persist in calling her pyari? Had he also experienced a miraculous stroke of lightning?

  “Have you nothing to say, Juliana?”

  She continued to look at him, unable to utter a word.

  “Forgive me, I did not mean to press you for an answer after undergoing such a monstrous ordeal, but I admit I am worried about you. I fear his lordship will try to kidnap you again.”

  Where could she go? She knew as little about Father’s relations as she knew about Mother’s relations until she had visited the Sarrazins.

  “Juliana, I have a sister I am uncommon fond of.” He cleared his throat as though reluctant to admit to his affection for his sister.

  “What is her name?”

  “Lady Barbara. But I daresay she will ask you to address her as Barbara, for she does not stand on formality. She is somewhat foolish, for she babbles, burbles, and coos, but you will not find a lady with a better heart. Her husband, Lord Carr, is a military gentleman. Unfortunately, his face was disfigured in combat. My poor brother-by-law is so sensitive about it that they live a retired life near King’s Langley.”

  “In Hertfordshire?”

  Gervaise nodded.

  “They do not live far from Riverside House. William might see me at your sister’s.”

  “No matter, you would be safe with Ralph and Barbara, and I think you will like their children. Besides, Barbara is not quite as foolish as her gushing words imply. I think she employs them to amuse her husband.”

  “Why should they accommodate me?”

  “For my sake. Ralph and I were friends long before he married my sister.”

  Her sixth sense, or perhaps her newly awakened love, indicated he withheld some vital piece of information from her. Well, if she stayed with Lord Carr and Lady Barbara, she would have the opportunity to learn more about Gervaise.

  “Is Lady Barbara older or younger than you?”

  “She is thirty-two, four years older than I am. Now, please put aside all your doubts while I pay Mrs Budgeon your reckoning.” He gestured to her with a flourish of his handkerchief, held as was fashionable between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. “I shall return for you in two hours. In the meantime, admit no one to your rooms other than one of the Budgeons or Sukey.”

  “I will need funds from Child’s,” she murmured.

  “My business is urgent. There is no time to fetch it. I shall give you some money.”

  Her independent nature and sense of propriety came to the fore. “I could not accept it.”

  Gervaise bowed. “Whatever I have is at your disposal. No, no, I beg you not to scowl at me. Your fierce demeanour frightens me. But it shall be as you please, I will lend you some money instead of giving it to you.”

  She chuckled. “Wretch, I do not believe anything frightens you.”

  “I assure you a single glance of displeasure from your beautiful eyes makes me quake.”

  “Fibber, but that is enough, my lord, I will summon Sukey and tell her to pack. I daresay she is gossiping in the kitchen with her aunt and cousins.” She frowned. “What am I to do with Sukey? She depends on me. May I take her with me?”

  “Indeed you may, but please stay here until I return. On my way out, I will tell the girl to come to you.”

  * * * *

  During the short journey back to his house, Gervaise fumed. How dare Juliana’s cad of a half-brother manhandle her and accuse her of being born on the wrong side of the blanket? Did Lord Kemp really believe his attempt to cheat her of her inheritance would be successful? Well, by raising the question of bigamy, he had given William more than enough to mull over.

  Gervaise clenched his hands. Instead of giving William a prick with his sword besides slicing off a button, he should have challenged him to a duel for assaulting Juliana.

  Juliana! By day and night her image occupied his mind. Gervaise groaned. He had throbbed with desire when she came so trustingly into his arms. How he had found the willpower to honour his vow to be her protector, he did not know. He wanted Juliana safe at his side forever, at his table, visiting his friends, travelling to exotic lands if the urge for adventure overcame him, and in his bed.

  How he wished Juliana had not been obliged to sell her hair. Well, it would grow again. He inhaled deeply, imagining waking to the sight of her abundant tresses, as sweetly perfumed as a spring garden, spread out on her pillow. A self-mocking laugh escaped from his throat. More than likely she wore a nightcap when she went to bed. But, he thought with tumultuous desire, I want the privilege of untying the ribbons of her nightcap and running my hands through her glossy curls.

  Never had he thought he would fall in love again, particularly in England where those in his milieu regarded marriage as a contract to benefit the bride and bridegroom’s families. Come to think of it, he mused, most of the nobility are related to each other to some degree. They cling like barnacles to their privileges and wealth. He laughed again. Well, thanks to the news he received early this morning, he had climbed its ranks.

  He hoped Peter had finished packing during his absence. He raised his eyebrows. How would his family receive him now his circumstances had changed?

  At least Barbara would be pleased for him.

  He smiled. The memory of Barbara mothering him and their younger brother and sister, Charles and Aphra, remained fresh in his mind; and now she was a devoted wife and mother content to remain in the country with her husband. Well, she deserved her happiness. During her childhood, the poor girl was neglected by their parents and bullied by their elder brothers. If she had not been blessed with a kind nurse and an affectionate governess who taught her how to read, write, and figure along with feminine accomplishments, it would have been even more miserable.

  Dear Barbara, he did not doubt she would make Juliana welcome for his sake.

  * * * *

  Gervaise strode into his private rooms. “Peter,” he called, “have you packed?”

  “Yes sir.”

  As yet he had not told his staff of his change of circumstances.

  “Send the new lackey, Pierre, to me.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Make sure the butler has ordered Cook to put up a hamper of food for the journey. By the way, please ask him to add a few bottles of wine to it.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  “Have you packed your own duds?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good, I want the baggage loaded on the fargon which, with my coach, is to be in front of the house in two hours.”

  He grinned like a boy. Peter and Sukey would travel in the fargon while he enjoyed Juliana’s company in privacy.

  “Do you require anything else, sir?”

  “Yes, wait for me to write a letter.”

  He sat down at a dark wood table inlaid with ivory, which he had brought from India together with many other treasures—such as small items of furniture, ornaments, silks, and Kashmiri shawls. He penned a letter to Barbara, sealed it with wax, and then pressed his old seal ring into it. Soon, he would have a new one.

  “This is to be sent to my sister at The Grange near Kings Langley in Hertfordshire. My head groom knows where it is.”

  “I’ll send Pierre to you, besides carrying out your other instructions, my lord.”

  “Thank you,” Gervaise said. His valet’s willingness to perform tasks, which an older man might consider beneath him, justified his decision to employ the young man.

  Gervaise removed some jewellery from the secret compartment in the bed head carved with semi-clad nymphs and a plump cupid with a head of improbable curls. He rolled the jewellery up in a strip of black velvet
and fetched the rattle. These, together with three sizeable drawstring purses of gold coins, one for Juliana and two for himself, would travel with him in the coach.

  “Enter,” he called in response to a rap on the door.

  Pierre entered. He made a deep bow. “You sent for me, sir?”

  “Yes. I am taking Mistress Kemp to visit my sister, Lady Barbara. While I am away you will wait on Mistress Kemp during my absence. Do you ride?”

  “Ride, sir? Yes, I do.”

  “Excellent! Your duty is to accompany the lady when she goes for a walk, to escort her when she rides, and to ensure she is safe at all times. Do you understand me?”

  Pierre’s eyes flared with curiosity. “Yes sir.”

  “Good, go and pack. You shall travel in the fargon with my valet and Mistress Kemp’s maidservant.”

  As noiseless as all well-trained house servants should be, Pierre slipped out of the bedchamber.

  Gervaise drummed his fingers on his desk. Should he change his mind and take Juliana with him to his ancestral home? No, her presence at his side might be misinterpreted. Already, the poor girl suffered from the accusation of illegitimacy. He did not want to run the risk of anyone assuming her to be his mistress and spreading gossip about her.

  He sighed. Did he love her or merely lust over her? Making her his mistress would slake his desire and— Just so, and what? Only an unprincipled man would despoil her innocence. He laughed at his confusion. A short while ago he considered the possibility of proposing marriage to her. Now he was uncertain as to whether or not he was ready to marry again. “Swounds!” he exclaimed. “Never before have I been so indecisive.”

 

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