His Shadowed Heart ((Books We Love Regency Romance))

by Hazel Statham

  “Then these will be of no interest to you?” asked Trimm spreading wide the handkerchief to reveal a pair of garnet and diamond earrings.

  The earl sat in stunned silence, his countenance visibly blanching. Eventually he found his voice, “They are Elizabeth’s,” and as Trimm looked a silent enquiry, “My previous wife’s. They were commissioned for her. Where did they come from?”

  “Well then, sir, there lies the mystery,” replied Trimm as if relishing his tale. “A colleague of mine took them off a gypsy when she attempted to sell them in the village. Thought they were suspect, so he relieved her of them. Said she came by them legal enough, but of course you can never take a gypsy’s word for anything.”

  “What made you bring them to me?” asked the earl. “Surely they could have come from anywhere?”

  “The gypsy said they had been acquired locally and it was just a hunch that they could have been stolen. As your wife is the only lady of means in the area, I started my search of ownership here!”

  The earl pushed his chair from the table and rose hastily. “It is time you were made aware of the happenings at Lordings,” he said appearing still shocked. “I had thought to deal with the matter myself but there appears too many twists and turns to the issue.”

  Taking Trimm to the upstairs corridor, he explained the happenings of the previous night and thence the preceding months.

  “There is a great deal amiss here, sir,” stated Trimm as they returned to the lower floor. “Perhaps if we trace the matter backwards we might find at least a place to start our investigations.”

  “Backwards?” queried the earl.

  “Aye, sir, we should interview the gypsy, perhaps all is not as it seems.”

  *****

  Calling for mounts from the stables, the earl sought out his wife to give her a brief explanation before he and Lord Stanton set out with Trimm to find the gypsies before they broke camp and moved to another location.

  Left alone, Caroline wandered the house restlessly. After the previous night’s happenings, she could not be easy and she fretted at the confines of the rooms. At first, she thought she would walk in the grounds—but that would not do—she needed to distance herself from Lordings and to this end, she ordered her mare to be saddled and retreated to her room to change.

  She knew she would be going against her husband’s orders that she should not ride out alone, but she felt an irresistible urge to be gone from Lordings boundaries. Once the mare was brought to the front of the house, she mounted, and refusing the accompaniment of the groom, rode down the drive at a brisk canter. She knew not her final destination, but determined to have some time alone to dispel the depression that had come over her.

  She drew rein atop the hill where the earl had first shown her his estate, and for a moment, she sat contemplating the house in which he had shown such pride. She had felt then that she could be happy here, that the whole world lay before her, but now… what chance had they now of happiness within its portals? She could not believe her feelings could have taken such a complete turn-about. This gracious building that had seemed so welcoming and warm, now presented as a place to fear. She had told her husband that she could live here if he was happy, but she knew now that there was no truth in the statement and she could not bear it if she was forced to remain. Tears threatened, but she held them in check, deciding to tell him that she wished to return to London. In an attempt to alleviate her feelings of the moment, she swung the mare around and urging her to a gallop headed toward the lake.

  The cold dark waters of the lake loomed before her and still she drove the mare forward until of its own volition, the horse came to a slithering halt, almost unseating her, and lying amongst the grasses of the muddy banks, she saw Dog.

  He rose up at seeing her, and she saw the wreck he had become. His large eyes were sunken into his skull, his bones stood out even more than they had when first she had seen him those months ago. She called to him but he seemed uncertain, backing away as she rode the mare forward and, turning with a speed his condition belied, he raced away. She set out after him, she could not leave him, but even though she called his name, he did not check his flight.

  On they sped, not noticing that they left Waverly land and now entered territory unknown to her. Unbelievably, Dog showed no signs of tiring. He took shortcuts where she was obliged to circumvent, but she would not abandon her cause. It became imperative to her to capture him and take him to Lordings. She had no horror of the house now; she wanted only to return Dog to where he belonged.

  For as much as Dog was traveling at a break-neck speed, his course seemed to have a purpose. She saw that every now and then, he looked back to ascertain that she was still following and on the one occasion when she took the wrong track he came back toward her and barked, ensuring her pursuit.

  So unused was she to the area that she was not aware that they were approaching the coast until she heard the crashing of the waves and saw the cliffs before her. In the distance stood a wooden building and it was to this that Dog seemed to be heading.

  *****

  The three rode into the gypsy camp just as the last of the horses was being set to its caravan and a sea of sun-weathered faces turned toward the earl and his companions. A swarthy individual came forward, his hands placed contemptuously on his hips, his dark eyes raking the horsemen.

  “What now?” he asked derisively. “As you see, as ordered, we are breaking camp.”

  The earl and Trimm dismounted, Trimm going forward. “I want none of your insolence my man,” he said in much the same tone as the gypsy had used, quite equal to the confrontation. “This is the Earl of Waverly and it is to his wife that these earrings belong,” and extending his hand, he showed the jewelry. “One of your women was apprehended attempting to sell them in the village and we need to know from where she obtained them. No charges will be made, we need only the information.”

  The man looked about him, but no one came forward. “As you see, it was not one of our women,” he sneered. “We do not steal.”

  “We are not accusing you of stealing,” said the earl, coming forward, “but we need to know from where you purchased them.”

  The man shrugged his shoulders and reiterated, “As you see m’lord, it was not one of our women.”

  Trimm would have started forward, but the earl held his arm and it was as if a change came over him and it was seen that his face took on a look of pain.

  “If I tell you that my wife is dead and that the earrings are of a high sentimental value, I am sure you will understand,” said the earl in a broken voice, appealing to the women of the group. “They were stolen from me and I was disconsolate. I need to find the thief.”

  There were mutterings amongst the women and one of them stepped forward. “You will assure us that no action will be taken against us?” she asked defiantly.

  “Certainly! I give you my word.”

  A much younger girl came forward. “It was I who found them, m’lord,” she said hesitantly.

  “Found them?” queried the earl incredulously.

  “Aye, sir, in the buildings at the old copper mine.”

  “That will be the workings on the south side of Melchin’s land,” affirmed Trimm.

  It was seen that the earl appeared to rally. “Was anything else there?” he asked perplexed.

  “There were other things, but I will say nothing more,” said the girl. “You must go there yourself.”

  “Did you take anything else from the mine,” he asked curiously.

  “No, sir,” she replied hanging her head. “Someone was coming … so I left.”

  Taking the earrings from Trimm the earl threw them to the girl. “You may take them with my thanks,” he said, much to her amazement.

  “But your wife….”she stammered.

  “Hold on my boy, think of Elizabeth,” interpolated Lord Stanton, thoroughly perplexed.

  “I try very hard not to,” replied the Earl, mounting his horse. “I wil
l explain all to you later, Henry. In the meantime, you must go with Trimm to bring his colleagues. I go to the mine.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dog halted when he came to the wooden building and cowering down low, crawled around its side. Caroline cantered into the yard and drew rein, the mare slipping recklessly on the damp cobbles. “Why ’tis a mine,” she said aloud as she saw the wheelhouse a little way below.

  She dismounted and calling softly held her hand out to Dog, but still he was not ready to be caught and she stamped her foot in annoyance. “If you will not come to me, I will leave you here to starve, you ungrateful animal,” she cried in her frustration, but Dog just stared dolefully at her from his hiding place under a pile of wood. As she attempted to approach him, he backed even further into the woodpile as she drew nearer. With little more than idle curiosity she peered through the greasy window of the building as she passed, squinting to see through the dirt that clung to the panes and was surprised to see what appeared to be a store inside, but she was unable to ascertain its nature. Thinking such a hoard of articles appeared incongruous in the derelict building, considering its location and apparent lack of habitation, she went to the door and tried the latch. To her surprise, the door swung wide allowing the daylight to stream unhindered into the dusty interior and, exactly facing the door, hung the portrait of a familiar, dark-haired beauty.

  “Elizabeth,” she breathed, and she entered the building as if in a trance to stand before the painting, her hand covering her mouth in disbelief. Eventually she tore her eyes from the beautiful face and looked around in the shadows. A large leather trunk stood across the corner and she raised the lid to find it held gowns and negligees, satins and lace, even slippers with jewel-studded heels. She closed the lid, feeling she intruded in a lady’s private belongings. There were books, a jewelry case, and even perfumes. A mother of pearl pistol lay in its velvet case; obviously a lady’s weapon and she needed not the evidence of the gold letter E inlaid in the handle to tell her to whom it had once belonged. At odds with all the feminine possessions stood a rapier with an intricate hilt propped against the wall, a brace of dueling pistols in their leather case and a formidable blunderbuss. On a peg against the door, appearing incongruous amongst this treasure-trove, hung a jacket, which she immediately recognized as being one of the earl’s old coats that she had given to Peter, and lifting it down, she inspected it in amazement.

  Suddenly a shadow filled the door to the building and standing bracing his arms against the door-jam with a maddening grin on his hard features, was Lord Massey.

  Smiling silkily, he made a magnificent leg. “How uncommonly civil of you to visit me, Lady Waverly. It would appear that I was remiss in securing the door on my last visit, but no matter, it has a delightful consequence,” and he came into the room, turning the key in the lock behind him.

  Caroline dropped the coat and backed away, but the leather trunk that she felt pressing against her legs halted her progress.

  “Have no fear, my dear,” said Massey, drawing off his gloves and divesting himself of his greatcoat with maddening deliberation. “You are quite safe, I have no desires whatsoever on your person. Your milksop ways do not appeal to me in the least. You cannot hold a candle to your predecessor,” and he jerked his chin to indicate the portrait. “Now there was a beauty, a real beauty, full of fire and passion, possessing a spirit you would not even dream of.”

  Caroline stood defiantly before him, her eyes blazing anger. “It has been you,” she spat at him. “All this time, it has been you!”

  Massey laughed. “Of course it was me, and until you came across my little hiding place, you would not have even dreamed it was me. You and your precious husband would still have been ignorant of the fact.”

  *****

  The earl’s horse clattered into the cobbled yard, and seeing his wife’s mare tethered there, he hastily dismounted, Dog coming forward to greet him. Rubbing his hand distractedly over the animal’s head, he looked around him. “Caro,” he called, but there came no answer. He repeated the call more urgently, “Caro,” but still no reply.

  Massey leapt forward and grasped Caroline’s arm painfully above the elbow. “Answer him,” he commanded.

  “No,” she replied. “I will not help you to trick him!”

  “I tell you, answer him,” he seethed, bringing his free hand across her face.

  Dog left the earl and threw himself against the closed door, growling furiously, his lips pulled back in a ferocious snarl.

  The earl followed him, immediately putting his weight against the door to burst the lock. The rotting door immediately gave way and they both almost fell into the building.

  “I thought you would never come,” sneered Massey. “I had not believed you so dull witted and lived forever in anticipation of your visit….”

  “Put my wife aside,” ordered the earl. “Your issue is with me. She should not be involved.”

  Massey pulled Caroline before him, pinning her arms behind her back and holding her firm. “Ah, but you see, she is you, whatever you possess is you, and bit by bit I shall surely destroy you.”

  “Why have you this hatred for me?”

  “You fool, you really don’t know, do you?” laughed Massey. “You never dreamed of the love Elizabeth and I had for each other.”

  In their anger, neither had been aware of Dog, who, lying close to the ground, had been gradually edging forward, and in that instant he launched himself at Massey, sending him reeling. The earl took the opportunity to snatch Caroline from Massey’s grasp and to push her roughly behind him. Motioning toward the door, he commanded, “Go.” Not for one instant did he take his eyes from the struggle that was taking place before him, but he was aware that she remained, reluctant to leave. “Go,” he repeated at his most awful and she ran out of the door to stand anxiously watching from the yard, unable to tear herself away from the scene evolving before her.

  Ordering Dog to relinquish his hold on Massey’s arm, the earl stood over the pair.

  “So, you leave your cur to fight your battles,” sneered Massey, his breath coming in harsh pants whilst, feeling his arm where the dog’s teeth had held, he stumbled to his feet. “I would have thought you to have had more backbone than that. No wonder Elizabeth despised you.”

  Fists clenched, the earl started forward, but his eye caught the rapier propped against the wall.

  Massey’s gaze followed and a sly smile lit his countenance. “You recognize the sword,” he stated. It was not a question, he saw by the look on the earl’s face that it was fact.

  “It was my father’s,” said the earl in disbelief.

  “Exactly! I admired it when I visited your wife on one occasion and she presented it to me, along with other pieces that had belonged to him, as a token of her esteem.”

  “She told me that they had been removed and stowed away in the attic,” replied the earl, as if trying to recollect the moment.

  “She told you a great deal that was untrue,” mocked Massey. “However, there is one truth amongst the lies, though whether she saw fit to tell you, I know not—Julia is mine—my daughter.”

  The earl’s eyes blazed. “You may have fathered her, but she is my daughter.”

  “Only until I lay claim to her,” sneered Massey. “I have letters here proving me to be the father, a fact that even you cannot controvert,” and he crossed to a small wooden box and took out a sheaf of letters. “In these letters Elizabeth swears her love for me and congratulates me on the conception of our child.”

  The earl threw back his head and gave a hard laugh. “You fool,” he cried. “The love she professed for you she also professed to a dozen others. You were not her only lover. I have known all along that the child is not mine. My wife took great joy in enlightening me as soon as I returned from Spain that she had made free with her lovers in my absence. I have no illusions, but the fact that Julia is my daughter is irrefutable, no matter whom her sire might be.”

  “If
you would have freed Elizabeth when she asked you to, she would have come to me,” stated Massey.

  “Is that what she told you, that she had asked me to free her?” mocked the earl. “You are more gullible than one would suppose. She had no more intention of going to you than she had of leaving me. Marriage to me was too lucrative for her to relinquish it. I cannot believe you so easily duped”

  Massey’s eyes darted about the room as if searching for something until they alighted on his sword that lay in its sheath on a rough table against the wall.

  The earl’s eyes followed his gaze and his mouth settled into a hard smile. “I believe there is only one way to settle this matter to our mutual satisfaction,” he said, turning toward where his father’s sword lay propped, and taking it up flexed the blade between his hands, feeling the coldness of the steel.

  “You have a desire for my blood?”

  “Exactly!”

  “Such a pity,” smiled Massey, “as it will not be my blood that will be spilled.”

  “But it already has,” scoffed the earl. “Unless I am very much mistaken, I winged you last night. It was your blood that stained the carpet was it not?”

  “A mere scratch, nothing more,” Massey scorned, indicating a binding on his left wrist, which until that moment had gone unnoticed. Then, almost as if imparting a nicety, “By-the-bye, there is one aspect I have been remiss in imparting.”

  The earl raised an enquiring brow as he removed his coat, appearing to have no interest in the issue.

  Massey also removed his coat, drawing his sword from its scabbard. “Dent,” he continued. “Your cousin. He became tiresome and I found it necessary to evolve a plan to remove him.” He awaited a response, but none came, the earl was too engrossed in the issue at hand.

  “The mission you have just undertaken to Spain,” continued Massey pushing the point, “its cause can be laid solely at your cousin’s door, I made sure of it.”