Netherby Halls

by Claudy Conn

He inclined his head, nodded to Dr. Bankes, and made his exit, his mind meshing together all the things he knew with all the things he was learning.

  * * *

  “Good lord, James!” exclaimed Bianca, turning on him as soon as the marquis was gone. “I cannot imagine what made you barge in like that. What if one of my staff was present? How would it have looked?”

  “Thoughtless, yes. At any rate, no harm done. I tell you what though, Bianca, that is the last time I shall go into Bath for one of those dratted gowns. Hang it, woman, what would it look like if one of my respectable patients were to see me coming out of Madame Olly’s? She does not exactly cater to the cream of the ton, you know. ’Tis far too risky for me.”

  “Risk? It is Tom and I who take all the risks. You have never risked anything.”

  “You are forgetting that one little thing I did. Not to mention the old gentleman down Turner’s Way. Now he pays nicely, don’t he? Fifty guineas every Thursday night!”

  “Shut up, you fool!” Bianca snapped. “Do you want someone to hear you?”

  “Then don’t be putting on airs with me and asking me how I earn my share!” he snapped right back at her.

  “All right, all right. Leave the dress and just get out now. I can’t abide the sight of you today!” She waved him off and turned her back.

  He was on her in the heat of the moment. He turned her by her shoulders and ripped open the bodice of her gown to expose her breasts. “Have someone new in mind, Bianca?” he said as he fondled her.

  She was breathless as she gazed back at him and whispered, “The door … someone might come in …”

  “I don’t think so, sweetings.” He lifted up her day gown, grabbed a hold of her crotch, and squeezed her hard.

  “Yes … oh yes.” She groaned. “I like it when you are rough … yes …” She pulled at her undergarments even as he released his cock from his breeches.

  He turned her once more, this time bending her over her desk as he rammed into her and said, “Like that, Bianca … is that how you want it … hard like that?”

  She moaned her answer.

  * * *

  Tooling his reins on the way home, the marquis’s thoughts flitted about his brain. He had never felt more anxious to quit a woman’s company than he had been to get away from Bianca Sallstone. She disgusted him in every imaginable way.

  He had been heartily thankful for James Bankes’s timely entrance. He had suspected that the doctor and the headmistress were more than professional friends. Now, he was certain of it. The notion that Bankes had spent time with Sassy made him furious with sudden tension. What is that—jealousy, he asked himself.

  Sassy’s green, innocent eyes took over his thoughts. Her magic was white. He had received a full bolt of it last night in her dreams, and he’d felt nothing dark about it. Passionate but not dark, and he admitted to himself that he wanted her with all his heart.

  He had told her he hadn’t a heart to give, but he knew that was a lie—did she know it as well? Would she give up on him? Had his inability to trust anyone easily turned her feelings off?

  Why had she followed the man from Tangiers earlier? What did she have to do with such as he? Why had she recognized Tom Wheeler? And she had—there could be no denying that. Just how much did she know?

  He couldn’t think about that because his need to have her in his arms was taking over his entire body. He had a raging hard-on that spelled out one name, hers, over and over. He had not been out of control since his first heartbreak, but this … this was like nothing he had ever known!

  The words I love you demanded release, and yet, he had not said them. He knew she needed to hear them, and still he could not say them. Perhaps … later, when all this was behind him and he could go to her clean?

  You will lose her, or worse … she will turn to the doctor. A voice nagged at him repeatedly, telling him to be honest with her, but he had to keep her out of all the ugliness that was sure to follow him now.

  She was far too worthy for the libertine that he had become!

  * * *

  Sweet pain! Sassy had read this in poems and never understood its meaning. How could pain ever be sweet? After his kisses, after being with him, she understood all too well what it meant. Everything about what she felt for him was so beautiful it could be called sweet—and everything about the stretch of problems between them was definitely painful.

  She had scurried up the stairs and to her room. As she began undressing, a knock sounded. She went to the door and opened it a crack to find Molly there.

  “Hello, dear. I was just going to change.”

  “I know. I saw the mud when ye rushed up the stairs,” Molly said with pursed lips. “You should have come straightaway to me, Miss Winthrop. Here, let me help ye.” She took up the muddied cloak. “I know jest how to clean this up like new, I do, and I’ll fix up yer gown as well.”

  “Molly, what would I do without you? But you have so much already to do. I can’t give you more.”

  “Aye, ye can, being who ye are, Miss, and how thankful I am for what ye do for me,” Molly answered, lowering her eyes.

  Sassy hugged her. “You don’t have to do this. I can wash the mud out.”

  “Not with anyone none the wiser. But I can and I will, and, Miss, I’ve been noticing things. Told m’dad about it, and he says not to get involved cuz we need our jobs here. So, I try to look the other way when I can, but this much I know—don’t go walking when it gets dark. The headmistress means ye harm. I heard her talking with a man in town. She didn’t know I was nearby, but I was, picking up supplies for m’mum. I couldn’t quite make out what she said, but she mentioned ye she did, and I didn’t like the sound of it. I told m’dad, and he said to tell ye to have eyes in the back of yer head.”

  “Thank you, Molly. You are the one true friend I have had since I got here. Thank you,” Sassy said and allowed the girl to take her clothes before she turned to the basin of cold water and washed her face.

  Things were getting complicated, and the evil her magic sensed around her was closing in. She could feel it. Molly was correct: the headmistress was planning something—but what?

  ~ Twenty-two ~

  THE MARQUIS HANDED Mr. Lutterel a glass of brandy and took up a seat facing him. He reclined on the cushioned chair, stretched out his long legs, and sighed heavily.

  After Percy downed his glass, he looked over his friend and exclaimed, “Women!”

  The marquis had been drinking deeply since he had returned from Netherby, but he raised his brow and eyed his friend. “Undoubtedly a profound thought has forced such an utterance from your lips, my friend. But tell me why? Does not your love life move ahead, er, lovingly?”

  “Yes, it does, but, Justin, look at you! For that matter, look at me, ruled by a woman, and your mood evidently created by a woman. I am sure of it.”

  “Tread warily, Percy. You may be my dearest and closest, but there are some matters that are over the line.” He shrugged. “Besides, I have not said that I am involved with a woman.”

  “The devil you aren’t. You may not say it, but I know you, and I have known for awhile now that you are madly in love with Miss Winthrop. Good choice, by the way, not that any of us ever has a choice.” He shook his head of flaxen hair and pointed at his friend. “But you have made a botch of it.”

  “Have I?” returned the marquis, not bothering to deny anything. “Do but enlighten me.”

  “Hang it, Justin, don’t pucker up at me. I haven’t the devil of a notion what you have done wrong. You ain’t been talkative, so how should I know how you have muddled things up?”

  “Go to the devil!” the marquis said amiably.

  “I probably shall.” Percy replied and grinned broadly.

  “Well then, Percy,” the marquis said, turning the subject around. “How goes it with the lovely Sophy?”

  “Her mother thinks that you still being here means Sophy might yet win a marriage proposal out of you. She doesn’t care t
hat Sophy’s father has posted the banns. She doesn’t care about the scandal it would cause if Sophy were to throw me over for you. She just goes about driving my Sophy mad.”

  “Deuce take the woman! Perhaps Sophy is in the right of it, and you should just elope to Gretna Green?”

  “That won’t do. I can’t have Sophy whispered about—my angel. That wouldn’t be fair and no way to start our life together.”

  “I think I shall call on your future mama-in-law and explain a thing or two,” said the marquis.

  “What?” Mr. Lutterel exclaimed, shocked. “You would trouble yourself to do that?”

  “Yes, indeed, that is what I shall do.”

  A knock sounded lightly at the open door of their drawing room. The marquis looked around to find their butler waiting patiently at the threshold, silver salver in hand. A frown descended over his face, but he motioned for the rigid-looking man to approach.

  He removed an ivory-colored epistle from its envelope, and the butler withdrew as the marquis began its perusal.

  Mr. Lutterel rose to his feet to bend towards his friend and ask, “I say, Justin, who is it from at this hour?”

  As an answer, the marquis placed the letter in Mr. Lutterel’s eager hands, got up, and withdrew to stand in front of the small fire with his hands clasped at his back.

  “Good God, Justin,” Percy exclaimed after a moment. “That girl—that poor, desperate girl!”

  “Just so, Percy,” the marquis said quietly, his blue eyes glinting with anger. “Just so!”

  * * *

  Sassy couldn’t sleep, and it wasn’t because of the dream. Something, actually too many things, nagged at her.

  She got up, pulled on her warm green velvet wrapper, and began pacing as she tried to sort out her thoughts. While she was thus engaged, the sound of approaching wheels and clopping horses on gravel caught her attention.

  She saw a small, covered carriage, pulled by two horses, but it had stopped a good distance from the front door. The dim light from the lanterns at the driver’s seat was not enough to see very much, but of one thing she was certain—a young girl was getting out. She wore the hood of her dark cloak pulled low over her head as she hurried towards the side entrance of the building.

  Sassy took up a candle, lit it hurriedly, put the glass cover in place, and made her way down the hall, pausing to suck in air before rushing down the stairs. She hadn’t seen who the young woman was, but her instincts told her the girl would head for the students’ wing. She was correct.

  Sassy reached there before her and stood for only a moment before the girl came to an abrupt halt in front of her.

  “OH!” cried the young woman.

  “Caroline Hughes!” Sassy said, her voice hushed with shock. “What does this mean?” She put the candle up and shook her head. “Why on earth are you painted up like that?” Dawning was beginning to settle in her brain and make her sick.

  “I-I am sorry … I was at a friend’s …” Caroline tried to lie.

  Sassy shook her head. “Come with me!”

  “Oh … Miss, there is no need to wake the headmistress. She knows.”

  “Does she? Faith, girl, you will come with me, and we will get to the bottom of this tonight!”

  Meekly the young girl followed Sassy up the stairs and into her room, where Sassy set down the candle. “Take off your cloak.”

  It was all Sassy could do not to gasp at the sight of the fifteen-year-old in a harlot’s gown of red and transparent glitter. “Caroline, has some young man convinced you to meet with him, dressed like you are?”

  “Yes, Miss, you might as well know,” said the girl, looking away.

  “My dear child, you are too young, and such clandestine arrangements will ruin you.”

  Suddenly the girl lost her temper and threw her hands up. “You know nothing about it. I know you mean well, probably the only one that does. Miss Graves and the others look the other way—always have, from the day Sallstone got here and started … well. You know nothing, and if you let on that you do, you will vanish like poor Miss Saunders, who suspected … and …” Her voice trailed off.

  “Suspected what?” Sassy knew. That voice in her head began whispering to her, and she knew the answer.

  “Nothing. I like you, Miss Winthrop, but there is nothing you can do about this. Look at me. I have nothing. Where will I go when I leave here? There is nothing out there for me when I leave.”

  “What are you saying? Be clear, Caroline, so that I may help you.”

  “You can’t help me, but you can get yourself in trouble. I’m tired, and I’m going to my room now. Don’t tell anyone. If you do it will cause you trouble.”

  Sassy put out her hand. “The key, Caroline.”

  “Aw, Miss Winthrop, you don’t know what you are getting involved in. Don’t take this key. It won’t do.”

  Sassy took the key. “Here, take the candle,” she said softly, “but you and I, we are not done. I will get to the bottom of this, and I will help you!”

  “I know you want to, but you can’t,” said Caroline as she left Sassy’s room.

  * * *

  Sassy sucked in air and knocked at the headmistress’s office door. She was told impatiently, “Come in.”

  Sassy opened the door, closed it behind her, and went forward as Mistress Sallstone sat back and with narrowed eyes said, “What do you want?”

  As an answer, Sassy put the key on her desk. “This is the key to the side entrance,” she told her more calmly than she felt.

  “And the significance of this?” The headmistress was as cool as ever.

  “Caroline Hughes used it last night to re-enter the school building. I heard her and met her at the students’ wing. Her face was painted, and she was dressed most inappropriately.” Sassy watched Miss Sallstone’s eyes and knew at once that the headmistress knew this—all of it. She did not think Caroline was out at a friend’s home.

  “Have you told anyone else?”

  “No,” Sassy lied. She had told Molly and asked Molly if she had noticed any of the other girls coming and going at odd hours. But now she needed to know more about the rest of the staff. “I thought of telling Miss Graves.”

  “For heavens’ sake don’t do that!” Miss Sallstone seemed nonplussed for the moment.

  Sassy felt some relief; perhaps the other teachers were not a part of the headmistress’s dark business. “Caroline tried to make me think she was meeting with a friend … but it isn’t that, is it, Miss Sallstone?” Sassy said boldly.

  “How should I know what she was doing?”

  “Of course, now that I have presented you with the facts, I am certain you will take precautions to see that this sort of thing no longer happens. In fact, I thought I might write Lady Devine for her opinion on the entire matter.”

  “Nonsense. You must not bother her with such things. That is why I am in charge,” Miss Sallstone snapped.

  “And are you, Headmistress—in charge?” Sassy had not meant to go this far, but after Caroline left her, she had used her magic; it had showed very clearly just where Caroline had been and what she had been doing. Her heart had broken over it, and her fury now took over and left wisdom behind.

  “Yes, and I shall make sure this does not happen again.” Miss Sallstone’s eyes filled with hatred.

  “You won’t be alone in that effort,” Sassy promised, staring the headmistress down and wondering where her courage was coming from.

  * * *

  It was still early, only seven, as Sassy paced in her room.

  She had made up her mind to go have a chat with Delia and Caroline and let them know that she knew what was going on.

  Quietly she padded down her hallway, took the stairs, and then made her way to the students’ wing.

  She went stealthily to Caroline and Delia’s room, rubbing her ring and silently saying the words that would encase her in a magical darkness, just as an additional precaution. She was not quite invisible and yet concealed as s
he listened first at their door.

  She heard Caroline’s contemptuous voice say, “I gave her a good scare, I did. Reminded her that Miss Saunders vanished—let her think on that.”

  “But, Caro, what about the paint? What did she say about your dress and all?” Delia asked.

  “She thought it was for some boy,” Caroline said. “Forget her now.”

  “Some boy! Ha! He is such a fat old thing. When he put his hands on me last week, I was sick, just sick.”

  “I know, and for what? They get fifty guineas every night we go out, and we get but one! And we do all the work!”

  “Work? I don’t call it work with the likes of Sir Francis, though. Now there is a buck, and what about tonight with that handsome marquis? Now that will be good fun,” Delia said. “He is a Greek god, that one.”

  “What time do you go to him?” Caroline asked.

  “They put it off till ten o’clock,” Delia said and added, “so Wheeler will come for me about 9:30 or so.”

  What was that explosion in her head? It hurt. What was that squeezing the blood out of her heart? Sassy put a fist to her mouth and stifled the cry that almost made its way out as she ran.

  No! No—not her marquis. It just couldn’t be. It had to be another marquis. Surely it was someone else. But how could there be two marquis in town, both of them as handsome as he?

  Her body quaked, and her mind reeled with this new information. It couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t debase young girls—he wouldn’t. She couldn’t love someone like that!

  She found the cloak that Molly had cleaned and hung up for her, slipped on her boots, and without stopping to think, ran outdoors and made her way to the stables. She yanked a bridle from its hook, hefted a saddle from its perch, and tacked up a horse faster than she had ever done before.

  Hoisting herself up, she adjusted her stirrups and spread her skirts about herself as she started him out and down the bridle path to the main road.

  What was she doing? This was madness; she was going insane. All she knew was that she had to face him—this man who had stolen her heart and took ownership of her spirit, her thoughts, her cares. She had to face him and know the truth.