Innocent Betrayal

by Mary Campisi

  ****

  “Oh, Ian, why didn’t you tell her about the letter?” Augusta asked, her voice soft and full of sadness. She dabbed at a stray tear with her lace handkerchief as she watched the carriages roll away.

  “There was no point,” he said.

  “No point?”

  “He’ll never change. Noah has probably sent hundreds of missives to hundreds of women telling them how much he missed them and regretted having to leave them, from Istanbul to France. Emily is just one more even if she is his wife. I won’t let him dally with her any longer.”

  “But what if he’s sincere? What if he really does miss her? What if he’s in love with her?” Augusta persisted.

  Ian pulled his wife to him and said, “Noah? In love? Impossible.”

  ****

  The sun climbed over the horizon, nudging its way past the somber tones of night. Emily raced down the hill on Allegra, the feel of the wind in her face, the sound of the horse’s hooves beating the ground in rapid staccato. Freedom. Freedom. Freedom. She threw back her head and laughed, a rich glorious sound that filled the morning air.

  Horse and rider reached the bottom of the hill, panting and gasping for breath. “Good girl,” Emily whispered, stroking Allegra’s neck. The horse nickered and threw her head up, nostrils flaring from the early morning exercise. Emily laughed again, basking in the pure enjoyment of the morning. She slid from her mount, brushed off her breeches and gave silent thanks that Ian was miles away. He never tired of chastising her for dressing like a man.

  “There you go,” she said, dropping Allegra’s reins. “Enjoy your breakfast.” The horse snorted twice, and then sank her nose in the sweet clover.

  It had been one week since her arrival at Glenview Manor and already, it felt like home. She loved her new residence, from the great expanses of old ivy crawling along the aging brick walls to the twenty rows of red rosebushes centered in the front lawn. The area stretched out, clipped, and manicured in such green splendor, she wondered if the gardener lay hidden in the boxwoods, shears open and ready, waiting for the next glossy leaf to sprout so he could trim it posthaste.

  Rows of privet blended into one another, making it impossible to tell where one stopped and the other began. They wound around in a square pattern, forming a green maze that led to a center where a large white fountain sat. A stone angel perched atop the fountain, its wings suspended in the air, a steady stream of water spouting from its pursed lips.

  But the land to the rear of the house was what captured Emily’s eye. There were several small and not so small garden areas, randomly placed in the back lawn. One was for herbs, one for wildflowers, and one for vegetables. The scent of lavender and honeysuckle filled the air to the west, while a patch of vibrant pink and purple coneflowers, called one’s vision to the east.

  The manor itself drew her in with its simple yet elegant furnishings. The rooms echoed pale green and creams with hints of gold. No dark, brooding colors here. Emily especially loved her bedroom with the ivory walls and thick, cream counterpane bordered with thin pale green piping and the rich cream draperies, held back with golden tassels. White vases carved with golden dragons adorned the dressing table and nightstand and reminded Emily of a vase Ian had given her. It had been a remembrance of his past excursions to the Orient. Had someone else been with him during that trip, perhaps even touched that same vase, and brought back a few of his own?

  She would not dwell on him. Emily drew in a deep breath and let the fresh air fill her lungs and cleanse her mind. At that very moment, Allegra lifted her head and whinnied, her ears pricked up and alert. “What is it, girl?” Emily followed the horse’s gaze toward the hilltop marking the perimeter of Sandleton property.

  A lone figure sat astride a massive white horse, so still that horse and rider appeared as one. Emily’s heart skipped two beats. Could it be Noah? She shielded her eyes from the sun, trying to get a better view. Was it him? Had he returned? What would she say? The rider lifted a hand in greeting, and galloped toward her. The sun shifted and Emily’s heart sank when she noticed the rider’s golden hair. The man brought his mount to a halt several feet from her. “Good day, my lady,” he said, his voice soft and low.

  “Good day, sir,” Emily replied, calculating the distance to the house. The intensity of the man’s stare unnerved her. Could she jump on Allegra and outrun him?

  The stranger smiled and laughed, the sound rolling over her like the summer breeze that blew his golden hair about his shoulders. “There’s no need to fear me.” His expression softened, revealing a dimple on the right side of his cheek. He was a handsome man of medium height and slight build. Almost too handsome, with his high cheekbones, lean jaw and sky-blue eyes. She guessed his age to be somewhere in the mid-thirties.

  “You startled me sir, nothing more,” Emily replied, determined that this stranger should not think her a ninny. She was a grown woman now, married as well and needed to learn how to handle such situations. After all, there would be no husband to rescue her.

  “Forgive me.” He smiled again, revealing an even row of very white teeth. He patted his horse and dismounted in one fluid motion, amazing Emily with his grace and form. Taking a step forward, he bowed slightly and extended a hand, covered in fine kid leather. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Andrew Kleeton. I own the property to the west of Glenview Manor.”

  Emily smiled and placed her hand in his. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Lady Emily Sandleton, mistress of Glenview Manor.”

  “Ahh,” Andrew Kleeton said. “Finally, we meet a member of the Sandleton family.” He paused a moment. “And where pray might Mr. Sandleton be?”

  She wanted to tell him she had no idea where Mr. Sandleton was at the moment, nor did she know where he would be next week, or next month. Or next year for that matter. And she had no idea what he was doing or with whom. She forced back the anger that threatened to escape in the form of blasphemous words and pasted a smile on her face as she withdrew her hand. “Mr. Sandleton was called away on business.” Business indeed!

  Andrew Kleeton lifted a golden brow. “He left his new bride to attend business? When do you expect his return?”

  They were innocent words, spoken as a mere formality, she was certain, with perhaps a hint of curiosity, but they magnified Noah’s absence tenfold. “He’ll return when his business is complete.” She tried to keep the sharpness from her voice but it pierced every word like a screeching wild bird.

  “Ah,” he said. “He should take care not to leave his beautiful young bride alone for too long.” His clear blue eyes narrowed the tiniest bit and Emily felt at that very moment Andrew Kleeton knew she was lying, knew also she had no idea where her husband was or when he would return.

  She cleared her throat and looked away. “Yes, well, when I do see him, I shall pass along your regards.” She smoothed back her hair and gathered Allegra’s reins. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kleeton.”

  “The pleasure has truly been all mine, Lady Sandleton.” Casting his reins over the pommel of his black saddle, he stepped forward, stopping mere inches from her. “A woman who rides bareback is rare indeed,” he murmured.

  Emily blushed, taken aback by his bold candor. “I’m certain there are not many who would share your opinion.”

  “Then they are fools. Forcing people to fit into society’s mold is a travesty that begets nothing but boring, self-righteous men and simpering, sniveling women.”

  She stifled a giggle. “I do happen to know quite a few men and women who fit that description.”

  A slow smile broke out on Andrew Kleeton’s handsome face. He leaned forward and whispered, “As do I.” The blue in his eyes deepened to match the morning sky.

  Emily smiled back, enjoying the quiet camaraderie of the moment.

  “Allow me to serve as your footman,” he said, bending down and lacing his hands. She placed a booted foot into the makeshift stirrup and swung her other leg over the saddle, thankful she’d worn
breeches this morning.

  Andrew Kleeton stepped back and dusted his gloved hands on his doeskin breeches. “Has anyone informed you, Lady Sandleton, that your current manner of dress would appall the ton?”

  “You don’t think they would appreciate these?” she asked, pointing to her black breeches. “As the height of fashion? Why ever not, Mr. Kleeton?” She placed both hands on her hips in mock indignation.

  He tilted his head and studied her attire. Then he shrugged and said, “I have no idea. Some people can be quite narrow-minded.”

  Emily threw back her head and laughed. “My thoughts exactly.”

  ****

  The ride back to the stables took no more than fifteen minutes. As she dismounted and rubbed down Allegra, Emily’s thoughts returned to her new acquaintance. Andrew Kleeton was charming and handsome. In some ways, he reminded her of Christopher, with his quick wit and easy smile. She hoped the rest of her neighbors possessed equally pleasant dispositions. Time would indeed tell.

  “You don’t trust me to walk your horse down for you?” a gruff voice called out, disturbing Emily’s thoughts.

  She turned to find the groomsman, Henry Barnes, standing several feet behind her and Allegra, his wizened old face scrunched up and disapproving.

  “Of course not, Mr. Barnes. I’m just used to taking care of Allegra myself.”

  The old man moved closer, crossed his arms over his thin chest, and grunted. His beady, black eyes moved from her to Allegra and back again. “I promised the master I’d take good care of you and see to yer horse’s needs and I aim to do just that.”

  “Master?”

  Henry Barnes nodded. “Yup. The master hisself came to see me ’bout you and yer horse. Asked me to give you both special attention, seein’ as yer such a horse lover and all.” He uncrossed his arms and scratched his gray head.

  “Mr. Barnes, are you speaking of my husband?”

  The old man looked at her like she’d gone mad. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Lady Sandleton, but there ain’t no other master here. Hasn’t been one since ’is uncle died ten years back.”

  “Glenview Manor is a family estate?” She’d assumed her new home was just that. A new home. Certainly not one inhabited by Noah’s ancestors.

  “Sure is. Been in the family for ages.”

  “And was his uncle an Englishman?” Noah was an American. Wasn’t he?

  “’Course he was. They all was a bunch of blue bloods, earls and dukes and the like. ’Til the master’s father up and moved ’em all to America.” Barnes’s thin lips turned into a frown as he shook his head. “If that didn’t cause quite a stir. Yessirree. Quite a stir.” He rubbed the gray and white stubble on his chin with a scrawny hand.

  “Noah’s English?”

  Henry Barnes’s head bobbed up and down. “Not only is ’e English,” he whispered, “but when ’is old man dies, ’ell be a duke as well. Don’t claim it though and none of us is ’sposed to talk about it. ’E wants us to call ’im Noah, but it just don’t seem right.”

  Noah was English? English nobility, no less! Henry Barnes’s words swam in her head, swirling around, faster and faster, until they made her dizzy.

  “I thought he was an American,” she said, as much to herself as to the old man beside her.

  “’E’s both, in a way. ’is father is as mean as sin. I remember ’im. Always jealous of his older brother, the duke. One day, there was this big falling out and the master’s father scurried ’em all to America.” He snapped his bony fingers. “Just like that. Overnight. The master weren’t more ’n eight years old. It tore the duke apart to see ’em gone. He never married, never had no kids and they was all like ’is own, ’specially the master. ’E looked just like the duke.”

  “But he came back?” Emily asked.

  “When ’e was about fifteen, he jest appeared one day. Still don’t know how he got ’ere, exactly. Never did say. Only thing he told ’is uncle was that ’e weren’t never goin’ back to America while ’is father was alive. ’E went to school ’ere. You know, all them fancy ones, and then ’e joined the Royal Navy for a while.”

  “But he didn’t stay with them.” She knew he and Ian met at sea and traveled the world together.

  Henry Barnes screwed up his face a minute, tapping his finger on his temple. “Nah, he didn’t stay too long. Couple years, maybe. But ’e always kept in touch with ’is uncle and when the old man died, this all became ’is.” Barnes set his beady gaze on Emily. “’E coulda’ thrown us all out on our ears back then. But ’e didn’t. No sirree. ’E kep’ us all on, ev’ry last one of us, paid us full wages and not a soul livin’ in the big house.”

  Noah? The same man who’d walked out of their marriage without a backward glance had provided jobs and homes for an entire household that housed no master? For ten years? It was incredible. Almost unbelievable.

  “I don’t mean to sound uncaring, Mr. Barnes, but why would he do such a thing?”

  “Ah, there’s the question,” the old man said smiling. It was a knowing smile, a smile that intimated she didn’t know much about the man. His master. Her husband. Henry Barnes was right. She didn’t know much about him, and she knew less as the minutes ticked by.

  “’E said we was like family to ’im when ’e lost ’is own in Virginia. That’s where ’e lived in America.” Emily nodded. That much she did know. “’E jest wanted to repay us for takin’ care o’ ’im and ’is uncle.” He paused. “Like family. That boy’s like family to me. To all of us.”

  “Did he visit often?” She’d always pictured Noah aboard a ship or in some exotic land with a beautiful woman, not on his family’s estate, conversing with an aging, wiry groomsman.

  Henry Barnes shrugged his bony shoulders. “Not as often as we woulda liked. ’E came at night and left at night. Never wanted nobody to know ’e was ’ere. Kinda like he was tryin’ to be secretive. Always brought us lots a presents though. I got a silver statue of a horse and a Chinese vase with a wild stallion carved on it.”

  Why would Noah want to keep his whereabouts a secret? She would ponder that tidbit in the privacy of her bedroom this evening for heaven knew, there would be little else happening in that room.

  ****

  “Lady Sandleton, you wished to have a word with me?” Edward Billington, Glenview Manor’s butler, approached the rose covered sofa Emily sat on and stopped a few feet away. He towered over her, his tall, lanky frame standing at attention as he awaited his mistress’ bidding.

  “Why yes, Mr. Billington, there is something I wish to discuss with you.” She looked up at the man and doubted her neck would stand much more straining to converse with him. “First, you must do me the favor of having a seat.” When she noticed his hesitancy, she insisted. “Please. If nothing else, you will ease the crook in my neck. You are quite a tall man,” she said, smiling up at him.

  Edward Billington did not return the smile as he lowered himself onto the sofa. He sat with his hands folded in his lap, watching her. Emily poured him a cup of tea without asking if he’d like any. She knew he would have refused had she given him the opportunity to do so. Tea calmed her, and she hoped it would do the same for Mr. Billington, though she’d not offered the occasional shot of brandy Christopher used to put in hers; that would be her own little soother, after the meeting.

  “You appear to know quite a bit about Glenview Manor,” she said, handing him his cup of tea. He accepted the proffered brew, but Emily could have sworn his gray eyes turned cold just a moment, as though he wanted to refuse. Of course, they both knew it would be extremely rude to do so and Edward Billington was anything but rude.

  He nodded, but offered nothing more.

  “I’ve been here a week and know little more than I did when I first arrived. Perhaps you could tell me a little about the history of Glenview Manor, the inhabitants, that sort of thing.” She’d had to find out from the groomsman that her husband was British? And a nobleman, no less!

  The butler cleared his throat
. “I assumed Mr. Sandleton had discussed these matters with you,” he said, studying the steam rising from the tea. Why wouldn’t he look at her? He’d shifted positions at least five times in the two minutes since he’d taken a seat. Emily noted he sat ramrod straight, several inches from the back of the sofa. What was making him so uncomfortable?

  “Unfortunately, no. Mr. Sandleton left before I could become familiar with his estate or his employees. I hoped you’d be able to provide me with that information.” There, she’d thrown the gauntlet. He could not refuse.

  Edward Billington cleared his throat. “What exactly would you like to know?”

  No, he couldn’t be rude, but he could be very difficult.

  “Tell me about yourself. How long have you been employed here?”

  “I’m a relatively new member to Glenview Manor,” he said.

  That told her nothing. “How new?” she prodded.

  He pursed his lips, as though he didn’t want to let the words out. “Two weeks.”

  “Two weeks?” she echoed. He knew too much to be here for such a short time. And the other members of the staff held him in very high regard. Whenever she questioned one of them about their master or his comings and goings, they deferred the questions to Billington. All except Henry Barnes. He’d told her more about her husband in ten minutes than the whole lot of them had in a week’s time. What power did Edward Billington hold over the staff? Had Noah bestowed some special authority to him during his absence?

  She studied the man as he sat on the edge of the sofa, motionless yet waiting. Like a big cat about to pounce, or perhaps, retreat. His cold gray eyes gave away nothing as he stared at her. He was hiding something, she sensed it. This man was more than a middle-aged butler with thinning hair.

  “Excuse me for being bold, Mr. Billington, but I find it quite odd that you’ve been employed by Mr. Sandleton for a mere two weeks and yet the entire staff defers to you.” She gave him a small smile. “Why if I didn’t know better, I’d say you wielded more power than I do where the staff is concerned.”