Bertrice Small
Page 48
“But I thought you was to be a wicked witch, and Lady Swynford, the page,” she said, confused.
“Which was just what we wanted everyone to think,” said Miranda. “That’s why we would allow no one but the seamstress to help us this evening. Amanda and I have always wanted to play that trick on someone, but because we don’t look alike we have never done it. This masquerade gave us the perfect chance.”
“Well,” said Perky, “I must say you make a pretty page, milady, and that’s the truth.”
“Thank you, Perky, and Mandy was marvelous as the witch!”
As Perkins helped her mistress undress, Miranda spoke again. “Perky, we are going home to America in another week or two. I would like you and Martin to come with us. I know that Martin doesn’t like driving a coach, but rather, aspires to the type of position that Simpson holds in this household. Wyndsong is a far different place from London, but we are going to need someone for our home. If, however, you choose to remain in England we will give you and Martin both the most complimentary references, and you will be paid for the full year, of course, through Michaelmas. You may also remain until then, in your quarters. The house, however, is being closed, and only the senior servants who have been in my husband’s employ for some time will remain to serve Mr. Bramwell, who stays to care for my husband’s European interests. Everyone else will be paid for the year and given a reference. We will try to place some of the servants among our friends, but time is short.”
“Martin and I have often talked of asking you to let us come with you to America,” said Perky, “but one thing worries us, milady.”
“What is that?”
“The wild Indians.”
“What?”
“The wild Indians, milady. We’re mortally afraid of those savages. Martin’s grandpa fought with the Redcoats in your war back almost forty years ago. He says the Indians was terrible cruel.”
“There are no Indians on Wyndsong, Perky, nor are there any in the surrounding area. There haven’t been for over a hundred years. It’s as peaceful as the countryside around Swynford Hall. London is much more dangerous than Wyndsong.”
“In that case it’s just possible that we’ll come with you.” She paused and looked at Miranda curiously. “Is it true that all people are equal there?”
“Not really,” Miranda answered honestly. “In one sense it is the same as anyplace in this world. Those with money have power. But it is different in that the opportunity for wealth and success is there for everyone. The class distinctions are not as rigid as here in England, and the people are truly freer.”
“Then our children could be better than us?”
“Yes,” said Miranda, “it is possible.”
“I’ll talk to Martin, milady,” said Perky thoughtfully, placing her mistress’s costume in the wardrobe.
“Go on to bed, Perky. It’s quite late,” Miranda said. “I’ll finish.”
“If you’re sure it’s all right, milady,” and when Miranda nodded, smiling, Perkins bobbed a curtsey and left the room.
Jared, wearing a green silk dressing gown, joined her several minutes after Perky had gone. He admired his wife at leisure while she bathed her face and sponged herself lightly, having had a full bath before the ball. He was at the point of suggesting a little dalliance when suddenly there was a discreet but insistent knocking on the bedroom door.
“Milord! Milord!” Simpson sounded urgent. Miranda quickly wrapped a gown around herself and Jared answered the summons.
“What is it, Simpson?”
“Lord Swynford is downstairs, milord. He is most distraught.”
Adrian was pacing back and forth in the library. “I can’t find Amanda,” he burst out as Miranda and Jared entered the room.
“I went to look for her, the blue page, but no one had seen her, and no one had seen the witch or the frontiersman, either. I guessed you might have already left, and so I went in search of my coach. Horsely told me what you had said, that you and Amanda had switched costumes right from the beginning, and so I shouldn’t be looking for the page, but the witch. I went back into Carleton House and looked everywhere. She wasn’t in the ballroom, or the conservatory, or anywhere in the gardens. No one had seen her for hours. Nobody remembered her at the unmasking. I thought perhaps that she had taken ill, and gone home early without telling us so as not to spoil our fun, but her maid said she hadn’t returned home at all.” He looked at them helplessly. “Where is my wife?” he asked them. “What has happened to my Amanda?”
Jared Dunham walked over to the grog tray and poured a full measure of smoky Irish whiskey into a cut-glass tumbler. He handed it to Adrian, and commanded, “Drink it down. It will calm you, and we can think this out.” The younger man gratefully swallowed the liquid fire, and then Jared said, “Adrian, this may seem an impertinent question, but have you and Amanda been happy lately?”
“Good Lord, yes!” was the immediate reply.
“Then did Amanda have any admirers? You know, one of those precious fools like Byron or Shelley who attach themselves to happily married women, and pay them outrageous court because they know it is safe. Sometimes those idiots begin to believe themselves, and try and make off with the lady.”
“No,” said Adrian, wearily shaking his head. “Before we were married she loved the attention that they paid her, but since our marriage she has had no time for such silliness. In fact on the few occasions that she has been approached by one of those gentlemen, she has sent them packing most unceremoniously.”
“Was any one in particular more attentive than the others?”
“No. It has been months since anyone paid her that kind of attention.”
“You are absolutely positive that she had no lover?”
Adrian looked crushed, and Miranda snapped, “She had no lover, Jared! If she had I would have known. The only secret Amanda has ever been able to keep was our secret tonight about the costumes.”
“Then she has been kidnaped,” Jared said flatly.
“Kidnaped? Why would anyone kidnap Amanda?” Adrian demanded.
“Adrian, did you win much money tonight?” Jared asked abruptly.
Looking even more bewildered than he had a moment before, Adrian said, “Yes, I won more than usual. It was twenty-three thousand pounds, actually, from Prinny and the other two. What does that have to do with Amanda?”
Jared sighed and ran his long fingers through his dark hair. “It more than likely is why she was kidnaped. You were seen gambling. I saw you myself. Like as not, someone saw you winning and has taken Amanda to be ransomed. If so, she is probably safe enough, Adrian.”
Adrian was outraged. “But who would do such a thing?”
“Possibly some member of the ton who is badly in debt,” Jared explained. “They will not hurt her. You must go home, Adrian, and await a message from them. When it comes, you will inform us and we will plan our course of action.”
Adrian looked a trifle encouraged by his brother-in-law’s confident tone. “Yes,” he said. “I will go home then, and wait.”
Jared and Miranda returned to their bedchamber and she asked fearfully, “Do you really believe that someone kidnaped my sister for her husband’s gambling winnings?”
“I don’t know, but I believe that morning will bring us some answers,” he said quietly. “Come, wildcat, don’t worry. Wouldn’t you know if something had happened to her?”
“Yes, I would,” Miranda said flatly.
“Then let us try and get some rest,” he suggested.
Dawn was already beginning to stain the city skyline before either of them slept. An hour later, Miranda suddenly awoke. Jared was gone. Heedless of appearances, she walked downstairs without bothering with slippers. As she descended the stairs, a woman’s voice floated up to her.
“Jared, my poor darling! I weep for you, beloved! I am so ashamed that a member of my own sex could behave in such a disgusting, low manner.”
“I do not understand you, Belind
a. What are you doing here, unchaperoned, at such an hour?”
“Oh, darling, I had to come! The moment I heard that your wife had eloped with Kit Edmund last night my heart went out to you. I realized how bitter you must be, but I want you to know that all women are not so despicable.”
Miranda continued to the bottom of the staircase. Belinda de Winter looked quite fresh for a lady who had spent most of the night dancing with the Duke of Whitley. She was wearing a lavender taffeta Bavaria pelisse robe with two lines of lilac trimming extending from her shoulders to the ankle-length hem. Matching the gown was a high-crowned Angoulême bonnet decorated with lilac silk ribbons that tied at the side.
“Good morning, Lady de Winter,” Miranda said sweetly. “What brings you to our home so early? Good news, I hope.”
The color drained from Belinda’s face. Slowly she turned around to face Miranda. “You!” she hissed. “What are you doing here?”
“No, no, my dear. I must ask you that question.” Miranda toyed with her.
“He promised me,” Belinda whispered. “He promised me!”
Jared moved across the large hallway to put an arm around the stricken girl. “Who promised you, Belinda?” he said gently. “And what was promised you?”
“Prince Cherkessky. He was going to take your wife back for his slave, Lucas. Then I was to marry you. You were going to ask me. You were going to ask me.”
“Lucas is dead,” Miranda said weakly.
“No. He survived.”
Jared saw his wife fighting to retain control as the terrible memories assailed her.
“Alexei called you a cat,” Belinda said. “He said you had used up all of your lives. How did you escape us? How?” She was beginning to sound hysterical, but her face was still deathly pale. “They were told to take the witch from the masquerade! The fools bungled it!” An angry light came into her blue eyes. “Or did the prince betray me? I helped him to win Georgeanne and last night he received the duke’s permission to ask her to marry him. She accepted him.”
“My sister and I exchanged costumes,” Miranda said wearily. “The men hired to take me took her. You must tell us where she has been taken, Lady de Winter.”
Belinda de Winter raised her chin haughtily at Miranda. “You upstart American whore!” she snarled. “How dare you even speak to me?” She turned back to Jared and her voice was heavy with loathing. “Have you any idea the kind of woman you are married to, milord? She is a slave, a brood mare mounted by a stud. She has lain beneath another man, spreading herself to be fucked like an animal! I’ve seen him, you know. His lance is like a battering ram. She fucked him willingly. Yet you prefer her to me?
“I loved you, and I wanted to be your wife, but now I hate you! If you were a real gentleman you would prefer me to her. You are as low as your whore! Good riddance to you both!”
“Where is my sister?” Miranda demanded.
Belinda de Winter suddenly began to laugh wildly. “I won’t tell you,” she said slyly, childlike, and then before they realized what she was doing, she turned and darted out of the house, almost falling over the little tweeny who was scrubbing the front steps. Still laughing, her blue eyes focused on something no one else could see, Belinda de Winter ran into the street. There was a shout, the screech of wheels, a high-pitched scream, and then silence.
Lord Dunham leaped the steps to the street, and helped pull Belinda from beneath the carriage. She was dead, her skull smashed.
“She run right in front of me, she did!” babbled the terrified coachman. “You seen it, sir! She run right in front of me!”
“Yes, I saw it. It was not your fault.”
“Who was she, sir? Did you know her?”
“She was Lady Belinda de Winter, and I knew her. She was not well.”
“Oh Gawd!” muttered the driver. “A toff! I’ll loose me license for sure, and then who’ll support me wife and kids?”
Jared stood up. “It’s all right. You were not to blame. As I have said, the lady was not well.” He tapped his head for emphasis.
Enlightenment dawned. “Oh, I gets you, milord. The lady was crazy as a bedbug.”
“Who is your master?” Jared asked.
“Lord Westerly,” came the reply.
“Tell your master that you have been in an accident, but that it was not your fault. Refer him to me for corroboration. I am Lord Dunham, and that is my house.”
“Thank you, milord! Thank you!”
Jared turned and walked back into his house. Simpson and two of the footmen were bringing Belinda de Winter’s body inside. The Duke and Duchess of Northampton would have to be informed immediately.
Miranda stood crying inside the hall. “We’ll never find Mandy now.”
“Cherkessky knows,” he said fiercely. “If he or any of his people have harmed the pigeon I will kill him! He cannot, of course, be allowed to announce his engagement to that innocent Georgeanne Hampton. I shall put a stop to that also.”
The Duke of Northampton was having an early breakfast in the small family dining room of Northampton House when his butler came to tell him that Lord Dunham was calling on urgent business.
Making a sound of annoyance, the duke rose from his table, tossed down his napkin, and went to his library. “Good morning, Dunham. What’s more important than my breakfast,” he joked.
“Belinda de Winter is dead,” Jared said without any preamble.
“What?”
“She was part of a plot to kidnap my wife, but the plot went awry and my sister-in-law was taken instead. Belinda, not aware of the mistake, came to my house in Devon Square this morning. When she saw Miranda her mind snapped. She ran into the street, and was run down by a carriage.”
“You must be mad, Dunham! Belinda hadn’t the resources for such a complicated ploy. Besides, what was she going to do with Lady Dunham?”
“She wanted to marry me, my lord, and Miranda was in her way. Her ally was Prince Alexei Cherkessky.”
“My lord!” The duke’s face grew red with outrage. “I must beg you to be wary of what you say. Prince Cherkessky is to marry my eldest daughter Georgeanne in July. The announcement will be in the newspapers tomorrow.”
“You had best withdraw that notice, my lord,” said Jared ominously, “unless, of course, you do not mind that you are matching your daughter with the man who murdered Lady Gillian Abbott, whose wealth comes from a slave-breeding farm, and who is in disfavor with the Tzar. The man kidnaps innocent women for obscene purposes, and he wants your child only for her wealth.”
“You can prove these charges?” The Duke began to wonder if Lord Dunham was quite sane.
“I can prove all of it.”
“Let us sit down,” the Duke of Northampton sighed.
They sat themselves in two large, leather-upholstered wing chairs next to the blazing fireplace, and the duke, leaning forward, said bluntly, “I have never known you to be either rash or foolish, Lord Dunham. You are neither an idler nor a gossip, and so I am going to listen to what you have to say. Be warned, however, that if I think you are lying to me I will have you thrown out of my house.”
Lacing his fingers together, Jared began, “First, my lord of Northampton, I must have your solemn word that you will not divulge certain things that I am about to tell you. Lord Palmerston can vouch for my veracity in some of this. Will you give me your word?” The duke nodded, and Jared told his story, beginning with his secret journey to Russia. When, close to an hour later, he had finished his story, the duke was astounded and furious.
“When my wife returned home she told us—her sister, Lord Swynford and me—what had happened. You see, we could do nothing without exposing Miranda to shame and ridicule. The ton would not easily forget such a scandal, and Miranda’s life would have been made unbearable as long as we remained in London. You can understand what it is like for us, knowing what Miranda has lived through and being able to do nothing. We wanted to warn you because of your child, but we could not do so.”
“Frankly I am not entirely sure myself. Somehow she found out what had really happened to my wife, and ingratiated herself with Cherkessky. She told us she helped him by convincing your daughter of the prince’s devotion and suitability. In return he was to capture my wife again and remove her back to Russia. It was to appear as if Miranda eloped with young Edmund. I haven’t even had time yet to see if he was taken, but if he too was kidnaped then I believe he is in mortal danger.
“This morning, Belinda appeared at my house babbling that she had heard the shocking news of my wife’s elopement with Kit Edmund. She begged me quite prettily not to hold all womankind responsible for the despicable acts of one woman. When Miranda came down the stairs and Belinda saw her, she went completely to pieces. I believe she went quite mad. I am very sorry.”
After a pause, the duke shook off his thoughts of Belinda and said, “Of course I cannot have Georgeanne marrying Cherkessky. But what am I to tell my wife? She will want a good explanation, Dunham. She has quite set her heart upon a prince for Georgeanne, and the Duke of Whitley for Belinda. What am I to tell her?” he repeated.
“My wife has told me,” said Jared, “that the prince’s half-brother was also his lover. I do not imagine that the leopard has changed his spots simply because he is visiting England. Tell your wife that you have discovered that the prince enjoys men for lovers as well as women. In view of this disturbing fact you cannot possibly entrust little Georgeanne to him. If your wife is still reluctant to give up the prince, tell her that his wealth was lost when his estates in the Crimea were destroyed. Tell her he is in disfavor with the Tzar. And tell her that his wealth came from raising slaves, not vegetables. Remember, my lord, you are the head of your house, not your wife.”
“What will you do, Lord Dunham? How will you find sweet Lady Swynford?”
“I shall go to Prince de Lieven. He is the Tzar’s ambassador, and will certainly want to avoid a scandal. He will force Prince Cherkessky to tell us where Amanda has been taken.”