It was when Caroline thought the last guests to have arrived that she heard the footman announce Mr. Gerald Dent. Repressing a momentary feeling of irritation, she went forward to greet him, leaving Victoria sitting cozily discussing the engaging vagaries of the children with Diana.
“It is exceedingly good of you to invite me to the child’s party,” said Dent, smiling ingratiatingly and extending his hand in greeting. “Indeed, the celebration of the birth of my cousin’s child is an event I would have been loath to miss.”
“You are a member of the family and it would have seemed churlish to have excluded you,” replied Caroline, now at her most haughty and eager to be out of his company. She still had no liking for him. Politeness dictated that she extend an invitation to her husband’s cousin, but she had wholeheartedly hoped he would refuse in an attempt to snub her.
Seeing her discomfiture in his company, Dent seemed determined to detain her, even going so far as to draw her hand through his arm and lead her toward a chair so that she would be obliged to sit at his side. “Now that we are able to have this time together, we have the chance for a cozy tête-à-tête,” he said, with a smile so obviously false that it made him look ridiculous. “There are things that must be said to enable you to be easy in my presence….”
“There is nothing you can say that would make that possible,” interrupted Caroline. “You and I can never be at ease.”
“That, my dear, is where you are completely wrong,” replied Dent attempting to pat her hand, but she drew it sharply away. He appeared not to be in the least put out by the action and instead continued in an indulgent tone. “Believe me, my dear, when I say that in the past I have done you an injustice. I thought you to have married my cousin for his rank and fortune, when indeed it is obvious to anyone with any sensibilities, that you are possessed with more than a passing regard for him.
“Much more,” replied Caroline stonily as she attempted to rise, but he laid his hand on her arm detaining her.
“In light of your regard, my dear, it appears churlish of Waverly to desert you, and for such a length of time. Where is my so dear cousin?”
“He is in the country on business.”
“Which part of the country?” asked Dent, appearing much interested.
“’Tis difficult to say, his dealings take him over several counties and I don’t know how long he intends to remain in each location.”
Dent tut-tutted. “Then it is very lax of him not to keep you informed of his movements. One would almost suspect him of negligence.”
“My husband is far from negligent,” snapped Caroline, stung into retaliation. “I know well enough where he is.”
“Then fie on you for attempting to distract me on the issue,” scoffed Dent. “Perhaps now you will tell me where my cousin is to be found.”
“Certainly not! My husband’s whereabouts are none of your concern.”
“On the contrary, my dear, my most estimable cousin’s whereabouts are now very much my concern.”
“And why pray is that?” she snapped.
A sly look overtook Dent’s features. “I have a debt to him which I would repay,” he replied with some aplomb.
“You? Repay a debt?” she asked incredulously. “You, who are forever crying poverty?”
“On this occasion you do me an injustice,” he replied, inclining his head. “For once I have more than enough blunt for my needs. Shall we say the fates have finally smiled kindly on me? Indeed, should you find yourself in strained circumstances, I would willingly extend you enough cash to tide you over until Waverly’s return. I would not wish to see you in difficulties.”
“You have no need for concerns on my account,” assured Caroline sharply, as she escaped his restraining hand and stood determinedly before him. “Now, if you have no objections, I will return to my guests. It will be considered ill-mannered of me if it is seen that I desert them.”
Seeing Victoria bearing down upon them, Dent also rose, smiling stiffly. “Now that I have made an appearance, I beg you will excuse me. ’Pon reflection, I remember that I am expected elsewhere within the hour,” and turning on his heel he was gone before Victoria reached Caroline’s side.
“What exactly did that little toad want?” enquired Victoria. “I will lay odds it was not merely to congratulate the child that he came. Was he looking to be bailed out again?”
“I’m not sure exactly what prompted him to attend,” replied Caroline, a small frown creasing her brow. “Though he did show an uncommon interest in Richard’s whereabouts and was at some pains to assure me that he was in no need of funds.”
“The man is positively deranged,” scoffed Victoria, linking arms with her sister-in-law and drawing her toward her guests, “but we will not allow his appearance to blight this happy occasion, especially when all seems to have gone so well.”
*****
Once the last of the guests had departed, Victoria retired to her chamber to change and Caroline, taking this opportunity for solitude, retreated to the small salon at the rear of the house. Sitting on the couch set before a roaring fire, she raised her feet and reclined against the silk cushions. It was when her eyelids began to droop lazily with the heat, that a visitor was announced, and before she could order the footman to deny him, Lord Massey pushed his way into the salon. Hastily swinging her feet to the floor she rose to face him as he strode determinedly across the room, a large parcel in his arms.
His face wreathed in smiles, he placed the parcel on the small reading table and flourished a bow. “You must forgive the lateness of my coming,” he said, as if it was the most natural thing that he should be paying a call. “I was out of town and regrettably arrived too late for the celebrations.”
“There is no need for regrets, sir, as you were not invited,” she snapped, her face much flushed. “I would ask you to leave immediately. You are not welcome in this house.”
“Tisk, my dear,” he admonished, smiling at his most charming. “I but bring the child a gift. Surely you would not deny me on that score?”
“She neither needs nor wants a gift from you. Please take it away. I will have nothing from you in this house.”
He removed his gloves and sat negligently on the arm of a fireside chair swinging one of the gloves by its tassel, the assured smile remaining on his dark countenance, leaving Caroline with a strong desire to slap his face.
He saw her discomfiture and his smile widened. “You must not think that by allowing Julia to accept such a trifle from me, that I would presume upon you, my lady,” he said, appearing amused by the situation. “I but bring the child a gift. Should she be deprived of a toy to satisfy your pride?”
“It is not my pride that prompts me to reject your offer, Lord Massey, but my complete dislike of you and also the knowledge of what would be my husband’s wish on the matter.”
“Ah, but you see, my dear, your husband is conspicuous by his absence, and has been this while. Surely it is not his intention to so readily desert you?”
She stiffened, resentment showing in her every line. “He does not desert me, sir. A fact that I have been at great pains to explain to Mr. Dent earlier today and which I would have thought him to have communicated to you, considering you are both so interested in the subject. My husband has business which keeps him out of London—nothing more.”
“Out of the country more like, my dear,” sneered Massey, halting the swinging of the glove and coming to stand before her. “Never fear, it appears that I am more informed of his actions than you. I know only too well his destination and intent, you may forget about Dent, he is nothing more than a keen amateur at the game.”
Caroline looked sharply at him. “I know not what game to which you refer, but you are quite wrong, my lord, my husband has not left England.”
“Why then, was he seen boarding a clipper bound for Portugal, if not to leave these shores? You must think me a fool, madam, to try to bamboozle me with your lies—I know you are fully aware of your
husband’s actions. Though one cannot but wonder why you feel this desire to defend him.”
“He is in no need of defense. Indeed, it is not his motives that are suspect, but yours, sir. I will ask you again to leave this house, Lord Massey—I have no desire to spend one more moment in your company. I still do not believe you blameless in Peter’s death.”
“Ah, yes, the boy,” he said thoughtfully, as he turned from her to resume his seat on the arm of the chair. “Such a tragedy was it not—the constable apprised us of the circumstances of his death. Now, I may have it wrong, but surely he should have known better than to attempt to poach on Melchin’s land where he knew traps to be laid?”
“Exactly, my lord,” cried Caroline hotly. “He knew only too well. He would not have gone there of his own volition. I believe him to have been taken there and murdered!”
“Tut-tut, my dear,” sneered Massey, with maddening calm. “You must not put yourself into such a taking. Your imagination runs away with you. One could almost accuse you of reading fairy tales and allowing them to influence your judgment. Indeed, you are guilty of a very fanciful turn of mind. Most unbecoming in a lady of your station.” He rose and would have moved toward her but in that moment, Lady Victoria made a sweeping entrance into the room.
“I was told that you were here, Lord Massey,” she snapped, unable to conceal her dislike of the man, “but I scarcely believed that you would have the effrontery to dare present yourself in my brother’s house. However, I appear wrong, though I am sure even a man with your decided lack of sensibilities will realize I speak the truth when I tell you that you are decidedly de trop.”
“’Twould seem I find you as charming as ever, Your Ladyship,” he mocked, rising to face her and executing a short bow. “I wonder your husband survives your viperous tongue. He has my greatest admiration. However, with your coming, I do believe I have remained long enough. I achieved what I came to do, therefore, with your very kind permission, ladies, I will depart. Though you must know it grieves me to leave such gracious company.”
“I assure you, your departure will be no occasion for grief,” replied Lady Victoria sweetly. “Indeed, quite the opposite, sir. With great gladness we wish you good night.”
Caroline rang the bell and a footman appeared immediately at the door, almost as if he had anticipated the call. “Lord Massey is leaving immediately,” she informed. “Be so good as to ensure his departure. I would not wish that he should be distracted from his course.”
Incensed at being so summarily dismissed, Massey snatched up the gift and flung from the room and thence the house, leaving the two sisters-in-laws to congratulate themselves on his departure.
“I hate that man,” stated Caroline hotly, as she sat beside Victoria on the chaise, feeling a weakness brought on by the confrontation.
“He is certainly someone not to be encouraged,” agreed Victoria, “and Richard would be exceedingly displeased at his visit. He must be denied access in future.”
“Orders will be given to that effect,” agreed Caroline. “He makes my flesh crawl. I wish Richard was here to deal with the man. He would certainly know what to do.”
*****
He would most certainly have known what to do but at that precise moment, he was standing on the deck of a clipper that was entering the Channel and therefore, whatever opinions he may have had on the subject, were irrelevant. The thought that within a day, he would be in London and once he had reported to Horse Guards, he would be free to return to Waverly House, rendered sleep impossible. He leaned against the rail of the deck ignoring the salt spray and icy wind that stung his face and whipped his greatcoat about his legs, straining his eyes through the darkness for the first shadows of land, knowing this would prove that he was at last home.
*****
Victoria having taken Julia to afternoon tea with Lady Diana and her brood, Caroline wandered somewhat aimlessly about the house. She had had no wish to accompany them. Instead, she desired only to be left alone with her thoughts, and a sadness overcame her, wishing for nothing more than her husband’s return.
Taking up the Ladies Journal that lay on the hall table where Victoria had abandoned it only a short while earlier, she wandered into the library to stand briefly within its portals before going to sit in her husband’s chair that was drawn to the hearth. Although only a sullen flame flickered amongst the coals, she drew up her feet and made a half-hearted attempt to read. The latest fashions and footwear danced before her misted eyes as she indulged in a moment of self-pity and allowed the tears to rise, but this would not do, and she dashed them away with an impatient hand. I must not appear weak for Richard’s sake, she thought to herself. I must prove to him that no matter what, I can be relied upon to cope. It would not do that he should think me faint-hearted. She felt a hand drop on her shoulder. She had not heard the door open, and startled, she rose to her feet, only to be crushed instantly to her husband’s breast. The suddenness of his appearance took her breath away, and once more, the tears came, but now they were tears of joy. The roughness of his coat against her face and arms proved that she was not imagining his return and all she could do was to repeat his name over and over in an attempt to reassure herself that he was indeed home. His garments smelled of earth and the salt air of the sea and she held him even closer, feeling the comfort of the pressure of his arms about her. Eventually she raised her face to his but, as he would have kissed her, she drew slightly away and smiling, passed her hand over the stubble that sprang so vigorous and dark from his cheeks and chin.
“Ah, I am not fit to appear before you, my lady,” he said with mock contrition, catching her hand and pressing his lips to her palm. “Perhaps I should have waited until I had bathed and changed before presenting myself to you. Though I must warn you, that I have half a mind to keep the beard, it suits me don’t you think, and is well in keeping with the company I have been obliged to seek these past few weeks?”
She smiled, reaching up to take his face in her hands. “You may keep your beard and anything else you have a mind to, my love. Only do not leave me in such uncertainty ever again. I feared so for your life. I couldn’t have endured it for much longer.”
He chuckled deep in his throat and tightened his hold once more. “Then it’s as well that I chose this moment to reappear. Now kiss me and I will prove to you that I am very much alive, sweetheart. These past weeks have been interminable without you. I pray we are never separated again.”
He kissed her passionately and long but when they finally drew apart, he was amazed to see Caroline laughing as she lifted her hands to her now flaming cheeks. He raised a quizzing brow as he captured her hands and attempted to draw her once more to him, but she held away.
“What now?” he queried in amused amazement. “Does my embrace not find favor with you? Am I now to be shunned?”
Chuckling mischievously, she feigned hauteur, “I am afraid—yes, very much afraid, my love, that the beard must go,” and she tweaked the stubble playfully. “Indeed, sir, I do believe that I must positively insist you shave immediately. How else am I to prove how much I have missed you?”
He stood away and bowed solemnly. “If that is the penalty I must pay, then so be it. I will instruct my valet to draw my bath and prepare my razor immediately and when all signs of my journey have been eradicated, you will have no excuse whatsoever for denying me, and I shall demand the homecoming I deserve.”
“Your mission was a success?” she asked soberly.
“Undoubtedly!”
“And you will not be required to return to Spain?”
“On this issue, no. I believe the problem to be resolved as we received information to that effect before I left Portugal. Now, I will tarry no longer,” he said turning for the door. Then stopping to tease, he said, “When I return, you will tell me how you have fared in my absence. I have no doubt you have made good use of your time without me and have left a trail of broken hearts in your wake.”
******
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“Henry need not be troubled on my account,” stated the earl as he sat with his wife and sister over supper that evening. “I will deal with the situation now that I am returned. I go to Lordings on the morrow.”
“We!” corrected Caroline. “Whether you like it or not, I accompany you. You will not escape me so easily again!”
The earl stretched his hand across the table to take hers in a firm clasp. “You will stay here with Victoria and the child,” he said. “I will not lay you open to possible dangers, but by God, I will see an end to the matter. Justice will be done!”
“If you do not take me with you I will simply follow on my own,” replied Caroline determinedly. “I am not so poor-spirited that you need leave me behind. Whether you wish it or not, I shall accompany you.”
“It is not your courage I doubt, Caro, just my need to know that you are safe. Therefore, you and the child remain.”
Encountering a pleading look from her sister-in-law Victoria joined in the conversation, “You need not worry about Julia, Richard. I will take her home with me. Surely, you must see that Caroline needs to be with you. She has spent so many weeks in uncertainty, that to deny her your company now would be cruel.”
The earl eyed his wife uncertainly. “Do I appear cruel, sweetheart?” he asked. “It is not my intention, but even I begin to hate the very thought of Lordings, so what right have I to inflict it on you?”
“The thought of remaining here without you, is far more terrifying than the thought of returning to Lordings with you,” she replied. “There will be nothing to fear if you are with me.”
The earl turned to his sister. “Then I thank you, Victoria, for your care of Julia. I hope her stay with you need only be short.”
“The child is welcome for as long as is necessary,” said Victoria. “Indeed, we will be prodigiously pleased to have her. Henry will be delighted to have a child in our midst again and the girls will positively dote on her. I do believe she will be spoiled.”
His Shadowed Heart ((Books We Love Regency Romance)) Page 15
