by Lara Temple
‘Do you mind if we don’t continue this conversation in the hallway, Nick?’ he asked.
Mr Beauvoir barely waited for Adam to close the study door behind them before he began.
‘Very well. Now, what’s going on?’
Alyssa sat silently as Adam told his friend briefly about the attack on Lord Moresby and the accusations against him.
‘Jem said you have an alibi for the time of the attack, is that correct?’
Adam glanced at Alyssa and some of the familiar cynicism shimmered in his grey eyes.
‘In a way. Miss Drake kindly came to my rescue. Apparently I was busy becoming engaged at the time Lord Moresby was stabbed. A very effective bone thrown to the ravening crowds baying for my blood. At one moment they were ready to string me up, the next they were drinking to my good health. I think the good people of Mowbray appreciated the poetic justice in it.’
Mr Beauvoir looked quickly at Alyssa and then back at Adam.
‘This is serious, Adam,’ he said, more quietly than before.
‘I’m well aware of that, Nick. But I suggest we take this conversation back to the Hall. For the moment, you should offer us your congratulations.’
Mr Beauvoir blinked.
‘Of course. I mean, congratulations! This is marvellous news.’
‘Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, Miss Drake, I will see Mr Beauvoir back to the Hall. You and I will continue our…discussion later,’ Adam said, standing up.
Alyssa was wide awake now. And her earlier weakness only made her more determined. She would not be manipulated, or seduced, or intimidated, into doing what she felt was wrong or not doing what she felt was right. Adam would have to learn to know her better.
‘But I do mind, Lord Delacort. We are not quite done here. Please sit down, and you, too, Mr Beauvoir.’
Adam remained standing, but Mr Beauvoir sat down promptly.
‘With pleasure. And call me Nicholas. After all, you are engaged to my oldest friend.’
She couldn’t help smiling. Somehow his light-hearted approach relieved some of the awful tension of the situation.
‘I am sure you have understood this is a sham engagement, Mr Beau… Nicholas. But from your past comments I understand you are well aware that the events of the past two days are only part of something more serious that is unfolding. And escalating. At first I thought this had to do with some personal enmity towards Lord Delacort, perhaps someone from his rather chequered past, but I am afraid it may be more serious.’
Adam once again raised one eyebrow.
‘More serious than someone trying to kill me or implicate me in a murder? I thank you. And if you are going to call Nick Nicholas, you might as well call me Adam. You were doing so freely enough earlier.’
She flushed, but ignored his taunt, knowing full well he was trying to distract her from the issue.
‘The point is, Nicholas,’ she continued resolutely, ‘that the recent whispering about the Delacort Curse is not based on idle superstition. Or at least not only that. It began after Ivor died and frankly there were those at the time who had been more than willing to suggest that you had had a hand in both Timothy’s and Ivor’s deaths, Adam.’
Adam leaned back against the mantelpiece and crossed his arms.
‘No wonder they want to get rid of me. I am not just omnipotent but also prolific. And what convinced them that I was not in fact involved?’
‘The report that you were in Venice and having a very good and very public time with a certain Contessa,’ she said drily.
Adam’s mouth tightened and he flushed slightly, but Nicholas chuckled.
‘You should send Seraphina a thank-you note, Adam. She was always convinced the universe revolved around her and she would love to hear of supporting evidence.’
‘Quiet, Nick. So, what happened once I was removed from the list of suspects?’
‘Nothing. Dr Hedgeway insisted on an inquest, but he had no hard evidence of foul play and so a verdict was turned in of accidental death. And that was that.’
‘I don’t understand. I had thought it was quite clear that Ivor broke his neck trying to jump his hunter over a fence. Why would Hedgeway ask for an inquest?’
‘Because Ivor broke his leg as well. And he had a bump on his head.’
‘So? Getting thrown from a horse, as I can attest, is painful. Why wouldn’t there be more than one injury in a throw bad enough to lead to a broken neck?’
‘That was precisely the view of the coroner and that’s why he gave his verdict of accidental death. However, thanks to Mowbray’s spa status it manages to attract quite a few wealthy patients and therefore a very capable doctor. Dr Hedgeway is a cut above the usual country doctors. He pointed out that a man who is thrown from his horse in a field and lands squarely enough on his leg to break it in that particular manner is unlikely to have also landed squarely enough on his head to have broken his neck. And the blow to Ivor’s head was such that he thought it had been caused by an object of which there was no evidence at the scene. Unfortunately Dr Hedgeway then introduced his concerns regarding Timothy’s death and the coroner accused him of paranoia and closed the meeting.’
‘How on earth do you know all this detail?’ Adam asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Alyssa flushed slightly.
‘I was there.’
‘At the inquest?’ Nicholas asked in surprise and she shrugged.
‘Yes. I wanted to see how an inquest was conducted. But what I—’
‘Why…?’
‘I had my reasons. The point is—’
‘And they didn’t mind having a woman there?’
She couldn’t help it; she smiled.
‘Of course they did. I didn’t go as a woman,’ she said simply and waited, quite content with the shocked looks they directed at her. Amidst all the chaos and confusion, she had derived significant pleasure from having so grandly shocked all of Mowbray earlier that day and she could not resist the temptation to shock again. There was something very rewarding about confounding expectations.
Adam rubbed his jaw, but the annoyance had faded from his eyes and there was only lightness there now.
‘Do you often still don breeches?’ he asked politely.
‘Quite rarely nowadays. Only when absolutely necessary.’
Nicholas burst out laughing.
‘I’m afraid to ask under what circumstances. And they really didn’t recognise you? With your amazing eyes?’
She flushed, flattered despite herself.
‘People see what they expect to see. Which is a country boy in a farmer’s cap.’
‘I’d like to see that,’ Nicholas said appreciatively and Adam pushed away from the mantelpiece.
‘Well, you aren’t going to. And this is all beside the point. What did you say about Hedgeway’s suspicions about Timothy’s death? He died of inflammation of the lungs, didn’t he? How on earth could that be misconstrued?’
‘Well, he might not have suspected much if it hadn’t been for Ivor. It is true that Timothy fell ill that winter. He wasn’t the only one. The influenza had spread through town and quite a few were ill at the Hall—Percy and Ivor and quite a few of the servants as well, and the few that remained had to take care of everyone else, since no one was willing to stay at the Hall unless they absolutely had to. You know how draughty and damp it is and that was a terrible winter, with the lanes impassable and everything frozen over. But Dr Hedgeway did say he had been certain Timothy was mending when suddenly one morning he was dead.’
Adam shrugged.
‘So? It happens.’
‘So it does. Which is why there was no inquest. But I know it always bothered Dr Hedgeway. He blamed himself for not bringing in proper nursing care. He also mentioned that he had noted,
aside from redness of the eyes and a bluish tinge to the lips, that there was an unusual pallor about the mouth.’
‘Meaning?’
Her shoulders slumped.
‘I don’t know. He merely said it was unusual and worth noting, since these were not symptoms he was familiar with in cases of inflammation of the lungs. But when the coroner asked him why he had not then raised these issues at the time of Timothy’s death, he said they had not struck him sufficiently to make him enquire further and that it was only now in light of his concerns about Ivor’s death that he was mentioning them.’
‘I am sure the coroner was delighted at this point,’ Adam said sardonically.
She smiled ruefully.
‘He was a bit annoyed and poor Dr Hedgeway didn’t insist when he wrapped up the inquest. And that was it.’
Nicholas leaned back and rubbed his face.
‘Hell, Adam. What a mess.’
Adam didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed on Alyssa, but seemed to be looking beyond her, and both she and Nicholas fell silent, as if on command. After a moment he breathed in, focusing back on her, and his eyes narrowed.
‘This has nothing to do with you. You are not to get involved in this,’ he stated and she straightened, incredulous.
‘You cannot be serious! Have we been on separate continents today? Of course I am involved.’
‘I am very grateful for what you did this afternoon, Alyssa, and we will sit down and discuss how to proceed with this engagement. But while I appreciate you sharing what you know about Timothy and Ivor, you don’t have to concern yourself any further with these suspicions. I will take care of it.’
‘Will you, now? Do you know you have a very pompous streak? You sounded just like your mother,’ she observed and watched with satisfaction as his proud stance was swamped by outrage. She had hit a sore point and had meant to. She had no intention of being managed.
Nick burst out laughing.
‘You’re a brave woman, Miss Drake. Remind me not to cross you.’
‘All right, Nick. Go and wait for me outside. Miss Drake and I have some matters to discuss.’
Nick stood up promptly, winked at Alyssa and left the study. Alyssa raised her chin, waiting for Adam to resume either his commands or his persuasion, resolving this time at least to resist both, but he just turned to her and to her surprise she saw his anger had once again been replaced by amusement.
‘Do you remember the time you lectured me about Rowena’s intentions? You were halfway up the Hungry Tree at the time. In breeches then as well.’
She frowned, confused. She vaguely remembered something of the kind.
‘I think so,’ she assented suspiciously, wondering where this was going.
‘I remember thinking that besides being presumptuous you were one of the most determined people I knew. Not like my mother, who was just selfishly bullheaded, or Rowena, who was the same—though I wasn’t smart enough at the time to see that. You had a vision of the future, or at least of your siblings’ future, and you had every intention of getting them there. I am not in the least surprised that they all turned out well. The point is, I understand how important it is to you to fit in here in Mowbray even if I don’t share your outlook and I will do whatever possible to make sure what you did for me does not harm you. But you are going to have to curb that determination to manage this situation as you are used to managing everything that you believe concerns you. Because it doesn’t. This is my problem and I will deal with it. Do you understand me?’
‘I understand you very well, Adam.’
‘You have no intention of doing as I asked, do you?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘Did you ask? I heard a command, not a request.’
‘Would it make a difference if I asked?’
‘It would be nicer and certainly less condescending. But, no, it would make no real difference.’
He threw up his hands. ‘Unbelievable!’
She stood up.
‘Why? And if our situations were reversed? Would you be content to do what you ask of me? I don’t presume that simply because you’re a rake you are also unconcerned with the welfare of others. If so, you would be a very different landlord to the one you have obviously become. So don’t presume that simply because I am a woman and a wallflower, as you so quaintly phrased it, I will walk away when someone I know is in danger.’
‘I did not call you a wallflower,’ he protested.
‘Yes, you did. And I suppose it is true in a way. But don’t let that deceive you into thinking I am meek.’
He rubbed his forehead, half-laughing.
‘Didn’t I just say I thought you were one of the most determined people I know? The very last thing I think you are is meek. But I won’t have you in danger because of me. It’s as simple as that.’
‘You’re involving Nicholas.’
‘Yes, well, Nick is used to putting up with my nonsense and I with his.’
She didn’t respond. There was no point. He wasn’t going to listen to her anyway. He might take the time to argue with her, but in the end he was as unbending as more overtly selfish people like her father or Rowena. He was merely smoother than both of them. But if he didn’t get his way by charm and manipulation, he would become just like all the others.
She didn’t know why she was even insisting. Yes, you do know, a voice inside answered her back and she looked away.
He moved towards her and turned her face back to him very gently. His hand was warm against her skin and the touch dragged up the sensations he had set loose before Nicholas’s interruption. His thumb traced the line of her cheekbone and just brushed over the lobe of her ear, sending a tingling cascade through her body.
But she was too angry at her failure and foolishness to let him win her over so easily a second time. She forced herself to think of all the tales she had heard of his women. Of the Venetian Contessa. Seraphina! What a pretentious name! What on earth was she thinking, believing she could mean anything to someone like him?
She swatted his hand away and took a step back.
‘You don’t decide for me, Adam. The answer is no.’
She knew he was well aware that her refusal was referring to their earlier discussion about their engagement. His hand dropped and fisted. He took a step back as well and bowed ironically.
‘Very well. For the moment we will call this a draw. I will return tomorrow so we can discuss how we are going to proceed with this engagement. Good day, Miss Drake.’
She didn’t bother answering and he turned and left. She waited until she heard the squawk of the garden gate before she went and lay down on her comfortable old sofa. Everything was silent.
Overshadowing everything was the fact that someone was probably trying to kill Adam. She could not let that happen. And underneath that sharp realisation was a maelstrom of emotion she couldn’t untangle.
She was engaged to Adam. Publicly. He had kissed her and it had been amazing and for a while she had allowed herself to sink deep into that part of her that wanted freedom and life and passion at any cost. But there was more to her than what he called ‘the wild girl’. He certainly did not really wish to marry her. All he wanted was to banish this shadow hanging over him so he could get back to his freedom and his pleasure-seeking…
And what did she want? Now that he was gone there was finally enough room in her little study to face herself. And the truth.
In the public room his hand had closed over hers, warm and firm, and it had felt so very right. Somehow with him she felt so much more herself. Even at seventeen she had known it. He had entered their little garden without preconception or judgement. He had offered to help her teach Terry Greek and Latin out of real interest in her clever younger brother and not out of the patronising notions of charity they were so familiar with. And af
ter he had seen Percy taunting Charlie, holding his favourite, ragged ball well over the little boy’s head, the next day Percy had sported a black eye and had never bothered them again.
It would have been marvellous, she tried to tell herself, if she had not imagined herself a little in love with him. Except that she was now no longer seventeen, and she certainly didn’t think him perfect, except, of course, for her. Because there was still that same unjudging acceptance about him. As much as he might disapprove of her actions she never felt he disapproved of her. Worse, she felt he actually liked the very qualities that she had learned early on to mask around other people. No wonder she felt more daring with him. It was like slipping loose the knots of an over-laced corset. She felt she could breathe freely and she had almost forgotten what that felt like.
And if she had even an ounce of Rowena’s good sense, she told herself, she would take advantage of the situation and marry him and somehow force him to mind her.
But she was not Rowena and when the moment came when he departed on his next voyage, leaving her to keep an eye on the Hall, what would she do? Demand he stay? Demand he take her with him? He might even indulge her once or twice, because though he was a rake, he was not unkind. She supposed he would indulge her, a kind of gift of pleasure as part of his efforts to educate her in the art of enjoying herself. But there would be a vast gulf between that and what she really wanted from him.
And how long would it be before either her bitterness or her despair would show? Before those emotions would drive him and keep him away, each time longer and longer, until most of what she would have of him would be occasional reports of his amours with this countess or that actress whispered maliciously behind her back by the likes of the Mott sisters. And the worst, the very worst thing, was that at the moment she thought she might even be willing to sign such a Faustian contract and place her stake on part of his existence rather than lose him entirely.
She pulled the red blanket over her, pressed her fists to her eyes and cried for the first time in many years.
