If she did stop to think, she had the unsettling conviction that she might simply collapse in a heap on the floor and start crying. Once she started to think, she might remember the look on Robert’s face when she’d told him that their night together had been a mistake, the look of hurt that had tugged on her heartstrings so painfully that she’d almost changed her mind and flung herself into his arms right there and then. The look that suggested he’d meant what he said—that he loved her. Even despite the way she’d behaved, the wanton abandon she’d shown in his arms—he loved her.
Not that it mattered. She hardened her heart against the memory. Once she told him about her past, that look would be gone for ever. She’d pushed him away despite the pain it had cost her, knowing that she was acting for the best. She had to remember that now, had to stay strong for one more night so that when she told him about her elopement with Albert, she could still look him in the eye and say that at least she’d fulfilled her side of their bargain. Once Mr Harper signed the deed of sale she would have met the basic terms of the agreement. No matter how angry he might be at her deceit, he couldn’t say she’d failed in that.
She pushed diffidently on the drawing room door, surprised to find the room inside empty. She’d assumed that Robert had come home at some point when she’d been busy in the kitchens, that she’d simply missed him going upstairs to bathe and change. She’d expected to find him there waiting when she came down, but there was no sign of anyone. The whole house seemed unnaturally quiet and empty, as if it were taking a deep breath, bracing itself for another big storm.
She shook her head to dispel the thought. It was drizzling outside, but there were no storm clouds tonight. She was simply being paranoid, jumping at shadows, letting her anxiety about the evening ahead get the better of her. There was no need to be worried. Robert might not have come down yet, but he wanted Harper’s yard too much to do anything that might hinder the sale. He wouldn’t let anyone else see there was anything amiss between them, she was sure of it. Once the evening got started, everything would be all right. It had to be.
‘Mrs Felstone?’
‘Oh!’ She put a hand to her chest, startled and yet relieved to see another person. ‘Sorry, Hannah. Is Mr Felstone in his office? I can’t seem to find him.’
‘No, ma’am. He’s not here.’
‘What?’
‘He hasn’t come home yet.’
‘Not at all?’ She felt a momentary disquiet. Robert had told her once that he was never late for an appointment. Why would he start now with one that was so important?
‘Mrs Baxter sent someone to the yard an hour ago to remind him about dinner, but they said he wasn’t there.’
Disquiet turned to a definite flutter of panic. ‘But where else would he be?’
‘I don’t know, ma’am, but there’s another gentleman here to see you.’
‘Do you mean Mr Harper?’ Ianthe glanced at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. It was only seven o’clock, a full half hour before their guests were due to arrive, but perhaps they’d come early by mistake. ‘Please show him in.’
‘It’s not Mr Harper, ma’am. He says his name is Lester. Sir Charles Lester.’
‘Lester?’ She felt a jolt, as if the name itself were a weapon being hurled across the room at her. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, ma’am. Shouldn’t I have let him in?’
Ianthe grabbed hold of a chair, steadying herself as the room started to spin around her. Surely it couldn’t be him, not now, not here, not him, not tonight! Surely it was too horrible a coincidence to be true—had to be some kind of mistake! What could he want with her tonight?
‘It’s all right, Hannah, it’s not your fault.’ She pulled herself up stiffly. ‘Please tell him I’m not at home.’
The maid shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. ‘He said you’d say that, ma’am. Then he said I should give you this.’ She held out a small piece of folded paper.
‘What’s that?’ She eyed the paper nervously.
‘I don’t know, ma’am.’
‘Oh...no...of course not.’ She reached out and unfolded the note quickly. There was only one word, the name of a place, but it made her stomach plummet to the floor.
Bournemouth.
‘What should I tell him, ma’am?’
‘I don’t know.’ Ianthe put a hand to her mouth, feeling as though she were about to be sick. How could he know about Bournemouth? What did he know? Whatever it was, he apparently felt confident enough to come to her house and demand entry.
‘Mrs Felstone?’
‘Show him in.’ She clasped her hands together unsteadily. What could she do except see him? The threat in his note was obvious. If she refused to see him, there was no telling what he might say or do. Though, on the other hand, there was no telling what he might say or do if she did...
‘Very good, ma’am. Would you like me to stay?’
She gave a faint smile, touched by the maid’s offer. ‘Thank you, Hannah, but it’s all right. If the Harpers or Lovedays arrive, please show them into the small parlour and tell them I’ll be there in a moment.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘And, Hannah...?’ She hesitated over her next words, knowing how bad they sounded, but needing to say them all the same. ‘If Mr Felstone returns, please don’t mention Sir Charles to him.’
Then she stood in the middle of the room, a prickling sensation running up and down the length of her spine as she waited for the Baronet to arrive. After what had happened in Pickering, she’d tried to convince herself that she’d never have to see him again, that he’d never dare show his face in Whitby, but here he was, proving that her irrational fears hadn’t been quite so irrational after all. Well, whatever he wanted, she’d just have to deal with it and send him on his way as quickly as possible. She still had half an hour to salvage the evening.
‘Ianthe.’ The Baronet appeared in the doorway almost at once, looking just as poised and elegant as she remembered, surveying her with an expression that could only be described as gloating. ‘It’s been too long.’
‘What do you want?’ She didn’t bother with pleasantries, pulling her shoulders back and facing up to him squarely. Whatever he’d come for, she wasn’t going to be intimidated, not again. This was her house. He couldn’t touch her here. One scream would bring everyone in hearing distance rushing to her aid.
‘What, no greeting?’ He feigned surprise. ‘You disappoint me, my dear. We used to be such good friends.’
‘We were never friends.’
‘A situation I intend to remedy now.’ He sat down in a chair as if making himself at home, eyes shining with the triumphant gleam of a predator who knows he has his prey cornered.
Well, she wasn’t cornered, not yet.
‘You’ve come to make friends?’
‘In a manner of speaking, yes. I think we ought to get on very well from now on. You know, your little performance had me quite fooled.’
‘What do you mean, performance?’
‘All this.’ He waved a hand in her general direction. ‘Little Miss Prim and Proper. But you can stop pretending to be quite so innocent, my dear. I know all about what happened in Bournemouth.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘That’s what your former fiancé said too at first. Fortunately, he was persuaded to talk.’
‘Albert?’ She gasped in horror. ‘What did you do to him?’
‘Oh, nothing violent, I assure you. There was no need to resort to such measures. He sold you out quite cheaply, I’m afraid. Foolishly, too. I was prepared to pay a lot more for the information.’
‘He’s a liar.’
‘I don’t think so.’ He gave her a vaguely pitying look. ‘He wasn’t the only one I spoke to. His mother was mo
st forthcoming, too. I have all the facts. Now I just have to decide what to do with them. Which brings me to why I’m here.’
Ianthe swallowed painfully. After all these months, she’d thought that he’d given up on pursuing her, but now she realised the truth was far more chilling. He’d been using the time to find out about her, plotting blackmail behind her back, returning just when she’d thought she was safe from him.
‘I wonder what your husband would say if he knew?’ He said the words lightly, as if he were making a simple query, not a threat.
‘He already knows,’ she tried bluffing. ‘I told him before we got married.’
‘I think not. The upright and honourable Mr Felstone married to a woman with your background? I can’t see it somehow. If he knew the truth, I doubt you’d be taking seaside strolls together.’
‘Seasi—!’ She inhaled sharply. ‘Have you been watching me?’
‘Not personally, but I have associates. They tell me the two of you make quite a charming couple.’ He stood up and stalked slowly towards her, smiling wolfishly. ‘Of course, even if your husband did know the truth, it wouldn’t matter. The rest of Whitby doesn’t. And somehow I doubt he’d want the story getting around. As to whether it does or not...that’s up to you.’
‘What do you want?’ She felt nauseated.
‘What I’ve always wanted. I thought that would be obvious.’
‘You want me to be your mistress? I’m married!’
He placed a finger under her chin, tilting it upwards. ‘An inconvenience, my dear, not an obstacle.’
‘You’re despicable!’ She jerked her chin away in disgust. ‘What if Robert found out?’
‘I should imagine he’d be somewhat displeased. Though perhaps not as much as he’d be at having the rest of Yorkshire know the truth about you. In any case, I want more than that. You’re leaving with me, Ianthe. Tonight.’
‘I’ll do no such thing!’
He ignored her protest. ‘You can write a note if you like, informing your husband of the transfer of your affections. That should be enough.’
‘Never!’
‘Then we’ll wait here for him together. I’m even prepared to let you do the honours and tell him everything yourself. It should be amusing to watch.’ His expression hardened. ‘You might be glad to come with me after he throws you out.’
‘I’ll never come to you.’
‘We’ll see about that.’
Ianthe gritted her teeth, about to retort when she heard the chime of the front doorbell. The Harpers! She felt a surge of panic. It had to be them—Kitty was never so punctual!
‘Tomorrow, then.’ She grasped at the only idea she could think of. ‘I’ll come to you tomorrow.’
‘I’m not so gullible, Ianthe. Do you think I don’t know about your husband’s business plans? When I mentioned the rest of the world knowing the truth, naturally I included Mr Harper.’
‘You wouldn’t!’
He laughed pitilessly. ‘Of course I would.’
She dragged in a breath, glancing anxiously towards the door. She could hear voices out in the hall now, Mr Harper’s and Violet’s. She ought to go out and greet them. The lack of a proper reception would look bad enough already. But if she went now, then Sir Charles would surely follow. He’d tell them everything... And that was the only way that she could think of to stop him.
‘I promise I’ll leave with you tomorrow. Just give me a chance to persuade Mr Harper to sign the papers tonight. Then I’ll tell Robert everything. He’ll cast me off, you’re right, but there’ll be no risk of him stopping us. He won’t care where I go.’
‘You outwitted me once before, Ianthe.’ The Baronet looked contemptuous. ‘Why would I give you the chance to do it again?’
‘Because if you insist on me leaving tonight then I’ll never forgive you. I’ll fight you every moment we’re together and then I’ll run away. I’ll never be yours.’
‘And if I let you wait until tomorrow?’
‘Then I won’t fight. I’ll come willingly.’ Somehow she forced the words past her lips. ‘I’ll do whatever you say.’
Sir Charles studied her in silence for a few moments. ‘Do you know, I think you really mean it.’
‘I do mean it. Just let me go now.’
‘All right, I’ll send my carriage at dawn. You have until then. Otherwise I’ll make sure that everyone in Whitby knows the truth about you by breakfast.’
‘I’ll be ready.’
‘Good. Then we understand each other. You won’t get away from me this time, Ianthe.’ His face seemed to sharpen suddenly, becoming pointed and falcon-like, before smoothing out again just as quickly. ‘Now you’d better go and see to your guests. You don’t want to keep them waiting.’
Chapter Eighteen
Robert staggered out of the tavern, clutching the door frame and wincing as the evening light assaulted his eyeballs. Perhaps that last cup of ale had been a mistake after all, he conceded. Not that he was completely drunk, not yet. He was still lucid enough to feel pain whenever he thought of his wife, which was still far too often, no matter how much he tried to drown her out of his thoughts.
Even now, he had the fanciful impression that one of the men walking along the quayside towards him had the same face as her, the same large doe eyes and dark blond hair. Even more strangely, the man was looking at him with recognition, too, as if they were already acquainted. He screwed up his eyes, trying to make sense of it. Was he imagining things now?
‘Percy?’ The answer hit him at the last moment.
‘Felstone?’ From the startled look on the youth’s face, it was hard to tell which of them was the most surprised. ‘Is that you?’
Robert felt a flash of annoyance. Of course it was him. Though he supposed he could understand the lad’s confusion. He was still wearing his dishevelled clothes from the rescue, and as for his behaviour...well, he wasn’t exactly his usual self-contained, respectable self. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been drunk in public—drunk at all, for that matter.
‘What are you doing here, Percy?’
The youth’s expression altered at once. ‘I need to speak with Ianthe. Is she at home?’
‘I expect so.’ Robert heaved a sigh. ‘We’re having a dinner party tonight.’
‘You are?’
He ignored the youth’s sceptical expression. ‘Some time around now, I should imagine. Come on, I’ll walk with you.’ He took a step forward and lost his footing, catching hold of the wall as the ground started to sway beneath him. For a fleeting moment he thought he was back on the lifeboat again. Before his world had really collapsed.
‘I say, I think you might want to wait a bit.’
‘You might be right.’ Robert leaned back against the tavern wall, half-closing his eyes. ‘So what’s so important that you had to come in person? You didn’t even come to our wedding.’
‘No, sorry about that. Work, you know. As for now...’ Percy’s expression turned shifty. ‘There’s just something I need to tell her.’
‘Such as?’
‘It’s private, I’m afraid... Ow!’
He yelped as Robert grabbed him fiercely by the collar and pushed him up against the wall.
‘You know—’ Robert’s voice was a growl ‘—I didn’t like you the first time we met. I didn’t like the way you treated your sister then and I still don’t like it now. So if you’ve come to upset her again, I suggest that you turn around and go back to London before I make you.’
‘I’m not!’
‘Then why are you here?’
‘She’s in danger!’
‘What?’ Robert felt his heart thud to a painful halt. ‘What kind of danger?’
‘I don’t know. I’m not sure, but I think I’ve done somethi
ng really bad this time.’ Percy shook his head on a sob. ‘You’re right, I’ve been a terrible brother. I should have taken better care of her after our parents died. If I had, then maybe none of this would have happened.’
‘This? Meaning me?’
‘What? No, I had nothing to do with her marrying you. She chose you all by herself. She’s a lot smarter than I am.’
‘Then what are you talking about?’ He gave the youth a small shake. ‘What did you do?’
‘I told someone something I shouldn’t have and now I think they intend to use it against her.’
‘Someone and something?’ Robert was getting impatient. ‘Percy, if my wife’s in danger, I want details.’
‘I can’t tell you. I promised I’d never tell anyone, but Charles kept on giving me wine and asking me questions and it just slipped out. I shouldn’t even be telling you this much, but now that he knows...’
‘You mean Lester?’
‘Yes. We were playing cards. I was in so deep and he said that if I just told him one thing about Ianthe, something she might not want anyone else to know...something secret...’
‘Then he’d clear the debt?’
‘Yes.’ Percy hung his head miserably. ‘He’s been in a foul mood for weeks, ever since you two got engaged. We had a bit of an altercation about it, truth be told. I’ve been trying to avoid him, trying to get back on my feet, but he seemed to be like his old self again. And I thought, What’s the harm in just one game of cards...? I’ll never play again, I swear it.’
‘What did you tell him, Percy?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘You can.’ Robert’s grip on his collar tightened. ‘And you will. Now.’
* * *
‘She eloped?’
Ten minutes later, Percy’s words still hadn’t sunk in, a combination of anger and all-consuming jealousy making it difficult to focus.
‘Yes, but they didn’t get far.’
‘Eloped?’
‘Yes!’ Now it was Percy’s turn to be impatient. ‘I say, if you’re going to march around ranting all day, I should get going.’
The Convenient Felstone Marriage Page 23
