I had eliminated another suspect. I met Lizzie on the way down to dinner and told her my news. She sighed. “I talked to her, too. She seems to have had real affection for the poor man. I’m glad he had someone.” She glanced at me, sharply. “So where did you get to this afternoon? I couldn’t go and find you without causing comment, but I would have done if I could.”
“Oh, we toured the top corridor and then we walked in the gardens for a while.” I marvelled how easy I found it to lie to her, when I’d never kept secrets from her before. “Then he went in to rest, and I stayed outside. Do you know how much work there is to do in the gardens?”
“Oh, I can guess.” Lizzie seemed satisfied with my explanation. “Ten years’ growth must amount to a forest.”
“You can just discern flower beds from hedge,” I said, improvising wildly. “I think it would be best razed to the ground and done all over again.”
“You’re probably right,” she agreed, and we went to dinner.
Steven behaved towards Richard with increasing insolence, perhaps thinking they shared a secret when he’d discovered us in flagrante. Richard took no more notice of him than he did of Miss Cartwright, treating them both with the same rigid politeness.
That first night, I dared not catch Richard’s attention, but after that, I felt easier in his company. In public, he was careful not to touch me or look at me more than needed to. From that I knew our encounter had affected him as much as it had affected me. For the next few days, I was happy just to feel the warmth of his presence. Lizzie watched me so closely it became impossible to have any private time with him, but now I was content to wait. I was sure of him as I had never been before and I realised that it was at the moment of complete vulnerability, complete surrender, that I’d won everything I wanted, and more.
I hugged my secret to myself, dreaming of it in private moments. I couldn’t believe that people like Martha and James had a similar secret, because I was so self-centred in my own happiness. The knowledge that they’d had ten happy years of marriage and three children of their own didn’t seem to coincide with what I had experienced that wonderful day. I was sure he wanted me. I was sure I wanted him.
Martha and James returned from York. Behind them followed a hired coach full of Martha’s purchases, with more to follow. James reported that probate of the will was passing through the court smoothly, though, since it was a Church court, it might take a little more time. Wills usually passed through Church courts, due to some archaic law. He would use the title and have power of attorney on the estate until it formally passed to him. If Lady Hareton proved with child, James would be guardian in the baby’s minority, so his care of the estate seemed certain, either way.
Mr. Pritheroe hadn’t yet made any formal objection in the courts, though he continued to protest to James personally. He got about a little better now and the joiner James had engaged for the estate made him a crutch. His approach, heralded by a stumping noise, usually caused a general exodus from whichever room he headed for, but he showed no signs of leaving the Abbey. In a way, that was a good thing, for he intended to take Lady Hareton with him when he left. Martha wanted to prevent him from doing so, if she could.
Mr. Pritheroe tried hard to keep his daughter apart from us. They took their dinner in the little parlour and he made her stay with him afterwards. He read his choice of passages from the Bible to her. In his stentorian tones, we could hear it all over our part of the house. She didn’t offer to help Martha, but that was probably because he didn’t allow her to. She seemed totally cowed by her father, and it was sad to witness such capitulation. She could have been pretty if she had worn her hair in a looser style, if her caps—now black—had sported more lace than linen, but since she had never been taught self worth, it had never entered her life. I had chosen to be careless of dress, not been forced into it, and these days, I found I was more attentive and took more care over my appearance. I knew exactly why.
Chapter Sixteen
I’d volunteered to help Martha, so I put on the dress that I’d worn on that memorable afternoon—old but respectable and not too worn, sighing at the necessity. I had found a vanity I’d never been aware of in myself before. I found my pocket on its string, and felt a clinking weight when I tied it around my waist. Upon investigation, it proved to be the buttons I’d picked up. I’d forgotten all about them, but resolved to return them before a maid found them and reported it to Martha.
I wrapped them in a little parcel and walked to Richard’s room.
Carier opened the door to me, and after a swift, conspiratorial look around that amused me more than a little, let me into the room. My lord was attired in the magnificent dressing gown I’d seen the other day, all dragons and crescent moons, and small Chinese figures going about their business. He laughed at my frank admiration of it after he’d kissed my hand. “They were all the rage last season so, much to my mother’s despair I set about obtaining the finest one I could find. My father said he hoped my mistresses would be pleased with it. And you do seem to be pleased,” he added in a low tone, making me blush. I hadn’t thought of myself as his mistress, but there seemed no other relationship to be had, and so I supposed that must be what I was. I looked behind me, but the estimable Carier was busy brushing down a blue cloth coat. I put the little parcel into Richard’s hand. He looked at it, quizzically. “Another gift?”
“No, merely your own again.” He opened the parcel, letting the contents fall on the dressing table as he laughed at them. “How considerate of you, my sweet.” Carier glanced up at the endearment and smiled grimly, but said nothing.
“I must go. I only came to return the buttons.”
The manservant forestalled me at the door. “You’ll allow me to look first, madam.” He put his hand upon the door, just as a knock fell on it. I started back in shock. Richard stood quickly, gesturing toward the dressing room door. Carier took me there. Unfortunately, the outer door proved to be locked, so the manservant went back for the key as Richard opened the door to his visitor.
“Good morning, my lord.”
“Good morning, Julia. You shouldn’t be here, you know.”
“I wish to discuss something with you, sir, in private,” came the cultured, chilly voice. It drifted languidly into the room where I stood trapped. Carier couldn’t rescue me now. I sat quietly on the small couch amongst coats, waistcoat and other male paraphernalia which hung there. I smelled his scent on some of them. I breathed it in, loving the reminder of him and waited.
The outer door opened and closed again. Carier had gone. If he’d managed to get the key, he might come to let me out now, but he didn’t come. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar, but I dared not close it in case Miss Cartwright faced that way. I could just see Richard where he stood by the fire. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, but his clenched hand, rested on the mantelpiece, the knuckles white.
Miss Cartwright’s clear, cultured voice drifted over the room. “I wanted to discuss your desire to break our contract.”
His grip on the mantelpiece relaxed a little. “Yes?”
“It has come to my notice that you have been—taking your amusements with the maids of this house. I do not believe it.”
“Believe it,” he said steadily, as he had to Steven. “Did Drury tell you?”
“Mr. Drury believed it his sad duty to communicate the fact to me. I didn’t believe him. I said as much, then he said he had proof.” She extended her hand to him. I guessed what lay on the palm—a button.
Richard took it. “Thank you. I should be sorry to lose the complete set.”
“Is that all you can say, sir?” She raised her voice for the first time I had known in our short acquaintance. “Don’t you think you owe me an apology, at the very least?”
He sighed. “Julia, you know what I am, what I’ve been and what I told you I would become if we married. I never hid anything from you when I made you that infamous proposal. If you can’t put up with it, then
it’s better you know now that I’m not the man for you. You could never tolerate my behaviour if I married you.” He paused. “Let me go. Let’s do this in a civilised manner and part friends. You know what your father will do when I break the contract. And if you won’t release me, I will break it, have no doubts on that score.”
“What will my father do?”
“He’ll bring a suit in the courts. Everyone will know our business. Everyone will read about us. Do you know what that will do to your prospects? Do you want that?”
There was silence. I heard her breathing hard. I felt distinctly uncomfortable, listening to something I shouldn’t be hearing.
“But I want you.” Hearing only her voice, I didn’t think she meant it in a loving way. It sounded more like the way a spoilt girl might demand a new plaything. “I’ve set my heart on it.”
“That can’t be helped. You cannot have me.” He hadn’t moved.
She burst into a sudden flood of tears. “Richard.”
He waited until it was clear this ruse had failed, too. “I’m sorry, but this can’t go on. We simply would not suit, we would only make each other unhappy. If you won’t break the contract, then I will. By far the best way would be to make a quiet statement to the press. You can go back to London with no fuss at all next season. But if you make me, I will break it, and that will lead to the scandal which both of our families must be anxious to avoid.”
“What’s wrong with me?” she cried, dramatically, deaf to reason. “Do you prefer a common maid to me?” I saw her hand move and heard the tearing sound of fabric giving way.
“Oh, my God.” His hand moved, and the skirts of his robe swirled as he turned around. “For God’s sake, madam, cover yourself.”
The outer door opened. Julia’s purpose became clear to me, as it must have done to him—this was an attempt to entrap him. I saw her now she had moved closer to him. Her torn bodice gaped obscenely against the otherwise perfectly groomed figure, and her bosom heaved with agitation as she thrust her breasts at him, challenging him to take hold.
The door opened. “Really, Richard, you should make certain you close your door if you insist on torrid encounters.” The key turned in the lock.
I saw Richard breathe out once, heavily, then, without touching her he picked something up from the dressing table and crossed to the room where I stood, hardly able to breathe. He walked around Julia, giving her a wide berth. “See to the lady, will you, Gervase? She’s as safe with you as she is with me.”
“Safer,” came the amused reply.
By the time he reached the room I had risen to my feet, so I wouldn’t be seen when he entered. I moved in my old gown without a rustle. If I’d been wearing good quality silk, it would have been impossible.
He closed the door behind him and put his finger to his lips. Then he took one of the coats from the peg, stripped off his dressing gown and threw it across the couch where I had so lately sat. He needed my help with the coat, as his arm was still a little stiff, and then he opened his hand to show me he had the key from the dressing table. He unlocked the dressing room door, looking out before we stepped out. We couldn’t hear Julia’s noisy sobbing out here, now Gervase had closed the door.
Richard stepped into the corridor, gave the lace at his neck a final hitch and held out a hand to me. We hurried down the hall, to the stairs and the family rooms.
“She wanted to trap me or seduce me. If that is so, she’ll need a witness, so her duenna can’t be far behind.”
“I thought it was the older Miss Cartwright when your brother came in.”
“Thank God it wasn’t.”
He opened the door of the small parlour for me. The minister and his daughter looked up at us, their brows lifted in surprise. She was sewing straight seams on a coarse man’s shirt, while he read aloud.
“Miss Golightly wondered if she could listen for a while,” Richard said, with a completely grave face. “I, too, would appreciate a quiet half hour.”
The minister could only agree, but he examined us closely through suspicious, beady eyes.
Richard led me to a hard wooden chair. He sat in a similar one himself, since they were all that was available. We sat for half an hour, nodding appreciatively. Richard in all his finery looked like a Turk in the New World. The rest of us were plainly dressed, and could have belonged to the same congregation. Not for the first time, I felt apprehensive of the future lying ahead of me. I might be sure of him, but what of his world? I would have nobody I knew to support me, no one but him. He was giving up much more for me. I hoped he would continue to think I was worth it.
We had our witnesses, in case Miss Cartwright should try to pursue her claim, and Gervase would do his best to restore her equanimity. Why, he might even succumb to her charms, I thought, but then I recollected that he’d never given her more than the usual courtesies.
After “Judges”, I made an excuse and left, smiling at my particular Samson as I went out. He stood and bowed, remaining there while I went to find Martha to help her, as I’d promised.
Lizzie was her usual tardy self getting ready for dinner. Even though we were in black now, she spent a long time curling her hair. She primped and posed in front of the mirror, trying to get the right effect. I recollected, ruefully, how good blondes look in black caps. Mine made me look dowdy. It was different when mourning someone for whom you truly cared, I thought, sadly. I recalled the last time I was in black, grieving for my father. What I wore mattered little to me then.
“I’ll see you down there.” I went on ahead.
It surprised me to find only Richard and Gervase in the parlour. Richard at once came to me and kissed my hand, retaining it to draw me across to the sofa next to the fire. He sat, still holding my hand. Gervase regarded us solemnly, not pretending to ignore this indication of his brother’s partiality. “Are you set on this course, Richard?”
“Completely. It’s my turn to make trouble in paradise.”
“If you’re referring to society, your usual epithet of bear pit would be more appropriate,” said Gervase acidly.
I said nothing, overwhelmed by Richard’s first public act of affection towards me.
“Very well, Richard. God knows you’ve paid your dues. I’ll do what I can to help. Does Miss Golightly know about this morning?”
Richard pressed my hand encouragingly. “She was in the dressing room.”
Gervase paled. “Dear heaven, Richard, you can’t carry on like this.”
“I know it,” Richard said ruefully. “Rose was merely returning something to me when Julia arrived. I didn’t know the dressing room door was locked. I was trying to conclude matters with Julia when the lady made her move. By the way, did the elder Miss Cartwright arrive?”
“Right on cue.” Gervase gave a wry grin. “Julia’s gown had only come loose at the fastenings, so I could put her back together without too much trouble.”
“You mean you didn’t succumb to Miss Cartwright’s ample charms?” Richard asked, with a gleam in his eye I didn’t quite understand.
“Hardly.” The brothers regarded at each other levelly. “I told her aunt she’d slipped. Though she must have known better, she had enough sense to accept it. She took the girl away. For all I know, Julia’s crying still. If Carier hadn’t fetched me, you’d have been well and truly caught, Richard.”
“No.” His grip on my hand increased slightly. “Not now. The only choice left to her is whether to make it a public matter or a private one.”
“She seems determined to have you,” Gervase said.
“I’m one expensive toy she must learn to do without.”
Gervase nodded. “Where did you go this morning? I looked for you everywhere but I couldn’t find you.”
“Ah, but you didn’t go into the small parlour.” Richard watched his brother, who first looked surprised, then laughed.
“Then there is some justice in the world. How long did you listen to the inestimable minister?”
“Too long,” sighed his twin.
Gervase laughed again. “It serves you right. But it’s a good alibi.”
“I thought so,” agreed Richard urbanely.
“Julia is taking dinner in her room today. She says she has the headache.” Gervase turned to me. “I’m sorry, this must be very confusing for you.”
“Not at all. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
Gervase looked from one to the other of us. “So it’s like that, is it? Well I can’t deny I’d rather welcome you as my sister-in-law than Julia, but there’ll be a hell of a stink about it.”
“I plan to take her to Venice after we’re married,” Richard told him.
“Really? Never known you to take anyone there before. Still, it would probably be the best place. He lives as a private citizen there,” he informed me. “Even calls himself something else, so no one will reach you there unless you want them to. Our parents won’t be happy, but they’ll have to cope with it the best they can. I’m sure you’ll come about.”
It sounded wonderful to me. Time enough to get used to being a viscountess after I’d become used to being his wife. If I ever did.
“I hope, for Rose’s sake, you’re right. I’m sure you will be.” I felt the warmth of Richard’s hand and I didn’t care. I suppose I might, one day, but not for the foreseeable future.
Gervase tapped his lower lip with one finger. “So how are the investigations into the coach accident going?”
Richard sighed. “I’ve discovered nothing. All my enquiries, and Carier’s have led nowhere. No one saw anything and everyone protests their innocence. It’s impossible to know who cut the strap. It must have happened the evening before, when the brothers announced they were going to fetch the preacher. Apparently, the last time the coach was used was six months before.” He shook his head. “Nobody knows anything about it. We’ve tried bribery, drink, simple asking, and it’s got us nowhere.” He looked at me then. “I’m sorry, my sweet. Your family will have to enter society under a cloud, after all.”
Yorkshire: Richard and Rose, Book 1 Page 18
