by Sandra Heath
She looked away. Why did everything always come back to Dominic? For two long years she’d tried to keep him from her thoughts, but now he was there all the time, and the kiss he’d forced upon her in the drawing room had increased the pain tenfold, because even while she hated him, she desired him as well. She faced two ways, and was being torn in both directions at once.
At last she heard Sophie hurry past her door, and waited until the light footsteps died away before emerging to follow her. She met Dominic at the top of the staircase, and there was an awkward moment as thoughts of the kiss beset her again. She avoided his eyes as she accepted his arm, and neither of them spoke as they descended to the entrance hall.
They left the house by way of the kitchens, crossing the high-walled vegetable garden to the wicket gate that opened into the stableyard. There they halted because Sophie had yet to leave.
She waited impatiently by the clock tower as a groom saddled a chestnut mare for her. She wore a mustard yellow riding habit, and her blond hair was pinned up beneath a jaunty plumed hat. There was no mistaking her unease as she glanced back toward the house, but she couldn’t see through the wicket gate.
There was a sudden clatter of hooves and a shout as another groom led a large and very mettlesome roan stallion into the yard from the paddock. It was a difficult animal, and tossed its head and capered as it tried to loosen the man’s hold on the leading rein.
Camilla froze as she saw the horse, for it was the image of the one Harry had ridden when he died, and seeing it being led like that took her back to the day she’d first seen that other stallion. It was before Harry had changed so much, and before the fateful visit to Summerton Park. The day had commenced with a ride she and Harry took in Hyde Park.
They encountered Dominic on his way to the horse auctions at Tattersall’s, and he told Harry about a particularly fine but supposedly unmanageable roan thoroughbred he wished to examine. She could still see Harry’s disbelieving grin, and hear his voice.
“Unmanageable? Oh, come now!”
“So I’m told.” Dominic’s gaze moved briefly toward her, and he smiled.
Her pulse quickened, and her gloved hands tightened over the reins, for his smiles weakened her resolve so much.
Harry looked quizzically at him. “If the animal’s unmanageable, why are you keen to see it?”
“Just idle curiosity.”
“You never do anything out of idle curiosity.”
“Don’t credit others with your own deviousness, Harry. If I say it’s idle curiosity, then that’s what it is.”
“I still say you have an ulterior motive. What is it, eh? Is the nag the swiftest thing on hoof? Is that it?”
“I’ve no idea if it goes or not.”
Harry’s eyes had sharpened now. “You don’t fool me.”
“Harry, there’s truly nothing to read into this. I haven’t got any inside information, I’ve just heard about the horse and since I’m at loose ends thought I’d toddle along to take a peek.”
Harry wasn’t convinced. “You old rogue, you’re trying to pull the wool over my eyes! Hasn’t Charley Curzon challenged you to a race? Yes, I remember now, there’s a tidy heap of guineas resting on whether you can find a nag to outrun his!”
Dominic sighed. “You’re wrong, Harry. Charley Curzon’s challenge is with Dick Painswick, not me.”
“I’ve still got a fancy to see this brute. What d’you say, Camilla? Shall we tag along? I know ladies don’t usually go to Tattersall’s, but you can be the exception, eh?”
She didn’t particularly want to, but at the same time part of her wished to be with Dominic. “I suppose so...”
Dominic shrugged at Harry. “As you wish, but you’re totally wrong about this.”
And so they’d been in Tattersall’s yard when the roan was led out. A stir passed through the crowd of fashionable gentlemen, for it was a particularly beautiful animal, with a magnificent head and neck and perfect action. But the look in its eye told of a mean nature and it was clearly dangerous, but Harry was still convinced Dominic was up to something.
He watched as the horse was led up and down. “Admit you intend to buy, Dominic,” he said at last. “You have an agent here somewhere who’s going to bid for you.”
“You’re wrong,” Dominic said again, a hint of irritability entering his voice.
“Then you won’t object if I bid.”
She was dismayed. Buy such a monster? “Oh, no, Harry! Just look at how spiteful it is!”
“Dominic knows something and I intend to steal his thunder.”
Dominic sighed. “Why don’t you listen to me, Harry? I’m not after the horse, I’m merely curious to see it, so for God’s sake stop being such a damned fool! What are you going to do with such a vicious nag?”
But Harry only grinned and raised his hand the moment the bidding began.
Another gentleman was keen to acquire the horse, and Harry became more and more convinced that he was Dominic’s agent. Each time the other man put in a bid Harry raised the price, until there were astonished whispers in the yard as the incredible sum of three thousand guineas was reached. Then the other man shook his head, and to her unutterable dismay, the horse was knocked down to Harry, who grinned triumphantly at Dominic.
“Not your agent, eh? Ha! Now we’ll see!”
Dominic exhaled slowly. “You’ve just wasted three thousand guineas.”
“I don’t think so,” Harry said, pushing his way through the crowds to examine his acquisition more closely.
She turned angrily to Dominic. “Why did you have to tell him about the horrid creature?”
“I wasn’t to know he’d do this.”
She lowered her eyes. “No, I suppose not,” she murmured.
“I wouldn’t do a thing like that, and you know it.”
She was contrite. “Forgive me.”
That had been then. Later, when Harry lay dead, she wondered a great deal about the whole incident. Had Dominic mentioned the horse in all innocence? Had he known Harry wouldn’t be able to resist purchasing it?
But the darkest question of all was whether or not he’d hoped Harry would perish trying to ride the horse? Had he wanted Harry out of the way so that she became free? She closed her eyes now as this other roan horse was led across the Summertown Park stableyard.
Dominic’s cold voice intruded. “Do you intend to stand there in a daze, or are we going to follow Sophie?”
Her eyes flew open again.
He nodded toward the yard. “Our little bird flew off while you were having a leisurely daydream. She only left at a slow trot but I still think it would be prudent to follow, don’t you?”
“There was nothing leisurely about my thoughts, sir, nor could they be even remotely described as daydreams,” she replied sharply, as he ushered her through the wicket gate.
Two saddled horses were led from the stalls where they’d been kept hidden while Sophie was around. Dominic quickly helped Camilla to mount, but as she gathered the reins her glance moved once more to the roan, and she spoke to the groom leading it.
“How is that horse here? I don’t remember it.”
“Mr. Rowlands purchased it two days ago, my lady. It’s the one he told you about before you left for London.”
Rowlands was her head groom, and had indeed mentioned a good stallion that could be bought to replace one she’d just lost. She’d never have agreed to its acquisition if she’d known it was a roan. “I see, well please inform Rowlands that I wish it to be sold again as quickly as possible. Any replacement he then purchases must not be roan, is that clear?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Dominic mounted and looked at her. “You’re transparent at times, madam,” he said softly.
“And you, sir, are opaque to a fault.”
“Are you still trying to convince yourself?”
“I need no convincing, sir, I know.”
He gave a disdainful smile. “I suppose you harbor a suspicion
that I was somehow responsible for this acquisition as well?”
“You may not have had anything to do with it this time, sir, but you certainly did last time!”
“I didn’t twist Harry’s arm to make him bid, he chose to do it because he thought he was outsmarting me. I didn’t have an agent at that auction, nor did I have the slightest intention of acquiring that four-legged demon. It was all in Harry’s mind, and has remained in yours ever since. Now then, we have a quarry to run to ground.” He kicked his heels and urged his horse out of the yard.
Chapter 14
Sophie rode slowly along the drive, but where it climbed toward the north lodge and Summerton village, she struck away to the south to follow the river toward the beechwood that closed the vista of the park.
Riding behind with Dominic, Camilla watched her vanish among the trees. Where was she going? If she was simply following the river, she’d soon leave the park by the south lodge bridge on to the Malmesbury road, and whichever direction she took then would take her to other villages and byroads, as well as various gentlemen’s residences and villas.
Dominic knew this as well. “We must see which way she goes at the bridge,” he said, urging his horse on.
Birdsong was deafening in the woods, and the air was sweet with the scent of new leaves. Lacework shadows dappled the ground as the sun shone down through the branches high overhead, and every clearing was filled with the budding bluebells that in a few weeks would transform the woods to a haze of color to match the sky. There was no sign of Sophie now, but her horse’s hoofprints were clearly visible in the soft earth along the riverbank.
The end of the woods appeared ahead, and the rolling Cotswold countryside beyond. Smoke curled idly up from the lodge chimney, and the river narrowed and deepened as it passed beneath the elegant stone bridge by the gates from the highway. Dominic and Camilla were so intent upon trying to spot Sophie somewhere along the road that they didn’t see her closer to them than that; on the bridge itself, to be exact.
She’d dismounted and was leaning on the parapet to watch the river as it swept beneath her. She raised her head to smile at them and wave, and they realized she knew she was being trailed.
They exchanged glances, for whatever they’d expected if they were caught following her, it wasn’t a warm greeting.
She straightened as they reached the bridge. “Bonjour, milord, Lady Camilla. I did not know you wished to ride as well. It is a lovely day, n’est-ce pas?”
Camilla felt a little foolish as she managed a weak smile. “Yes, it is. We thought your idea of a ride was excellent and decided to do the same. We, er, didn’t realize you’d come this way.”
“I just followed the river.” Sophie didn’t seem in the least perturbed by their arrival, and certainly didn’t glance around as if she feared William would appear at any moment and give the game away. She smiled at Camilla. “You are most fortunate to have an estate as beautiful as this, Lady Camilla.”
“Yes, I am.” Camilla caught Dominic’s eyes and he gave a barely perceptible shrug, for he was as mystified as she, but the silently exchanged glance confirmed they both still felt certain a tryst had been the object of the exercise.
A light breeze rippled the surface of the river and Sophie shivered suddenly. “Oh, it is a little colder than it was. Shall we go back now?”
Camilla nodded. “Yes, of course.”
Dominic dismounted to assist Sophie into the saddle again, but as she gathered the reins he noticed how she looked briefly toward some chimneys rising above a copse about a quarter of a mile along the road. He gave no sign of having noticed anything, and remounted to accompany the two women back to the house. But as they rode back through the woods, he suddenly reined in.
“Forgive me, ladies, but I have a fancy to ride a little more. I trust you won’t mind?”
Sophie shook her head. “No, of course not, Lord Ennismount.”
Camilla searched his face, sensing that something was up. “As you wish, my lord.”
He turned his horse’s head and rode away, striking off at a tangent as if he had no thought at all of returning to the south lodge, but the moment he was out of their sight, he made his way back to the bridge.
Within a few minutes he was approaching the house hidden among the trees. The elegant wrought-iron gates stood directly on to the road, and the gravel drive curved away between rhododendrons that in summer were heavy with magenta blooms.
It was a scene he remembered only too well, for the last time he’d come here he’d been following Harry. It was the day after the picnic, a humid afternoon with thunderclouds burgeoning on the horizon, and from time to time the approaching storm was audible in the distance.
Camilla was visiting a sick friend in Tetbury for a few hours, and Harry, who as yet didn’t realize his friend had grown suspicious, had set off on horseback to come here the moment his wife departed. No one realized then that Harry and Camilla would never see each other again.
That far-off day returned now as Dominic stared along the drive. The bright spring morning became indistinct, and the growl of bygone thunder echoed beyond the horizon. Sound was accentuated, from the calls of a peacock on the hidden lawns to the rattle of the pony and trap that had driven past a few moments before. The rhododendrons were in full bloom along the drive, and the gates stood open.
On that day he’d kicked his heel and ridden through, and he did so again as past and present became inexorably entwined. He moved his horse slowly along the drive of April 1814, but it was the summer of 1812 he saw. He rode slowly, praying he was wrong about Harry’s reason for coming here, but all the signs pointed to the contrary.
Suddenly the rhododendrons sloped away from the drive as the grounds opened out into neatly tended lawns where the peacocks he’d heard could be seen strutting beneath the fronds of weeping willows. At the far end of the lawns stood the house itself, a small symmetrical mansion with a hipped roof and stone-faced windows.
Harry was dismounting in front of the house. For a moment it seemed no one in the house knew he’d arrived, but then the door opened and a fair-haired woman in a geranium silk gown emerged. She was very beautiful, and her joy was manifest as she ran into Harry’s arms. They embraced passionately, their lips searing together in a kiss that could only lead to consummation the moment the door of the house closed behind them. Harry’s hand slid to clasp her breast through the thin stuff of her gown, and she threw her head back so he could kiss her throat.
Thunder growled lazily across the heavens and the air became almost claustrophobic as the lovers went into the house. A groom came to take Harry’s horse, and the watcher from the drive gazed up toward the second-floor windows of the house. Behind one of those windows, Camilla’s adulterous husband was betraying her with his mistress.
A flock of rooks rose noisily from the trees, and suddenly it was the present again as Dominic stared past unkempt lawns toward a closed and shuttered house. There were no peacocks and gleaming panes now; the house was deserted and weeds grew in the drive.
Snatching his concentration back to the matter in hand, he glanced around for some sign of William, but everything was quiet. Dismounting, he led his horse out of sight among the rhododendrons and tethered it before making his way circuitously to the rear of the house. If Sophie Arenburg’s lover was here, he was about to be caught.
Quietly he entered the small stableyard and examined each stall in turn, but there was no horse, and no sign of one having been there recently. Frowning, he searched the coach house as well, but the weeds growing in front of the doors hadn’t been disturbed. He glanced at the house again. Everything was very quiet, and somehow he felt there was no one here but himself, but he had to check.
He moved to the kitchen door, but it was bolted on the inside, as was the side entrance. Just as he was considering forcing one of them, he noticed a sash window that hadn’t been tightly closed. He found a stick that fitted the gap and managed to flick the lock aside to raise the wi
ndow, then he climbed over the sill into the red-tiled passage beyond.
It was very cold in the house, and he could smell damp. Cobwebs swathed the ceiling and walls, and a mouse scuttled toward a hole in the skirting. The passage ended with a door that made barely a sound as he pushed it open. Beyond it lay a shadowy hall where the chandeliers had been removed, leaving only ropes dangling from the high ceiling. His reflection moved in a wall mirror as he crossed to the foot of the ghostly white marble staircase.
Suddenly he heard a scuffling sound from the next floor. Someone was up there! He ascended quickly and paused at the top to listen again. The sound was still there. Wide passages led away on either side, but he realized the noises were coming from the main bedroom, directly opposite the staircase.
Taking a deep breath he flung the door open expecting to catch William unawares, but instead terrified wings fluttered frantically into his face. He tried to protect his eyes, but then whatever it was flew past into the abyss of the hall. He whirled about in time to see it was only a pigeon. He gave a relieved laugh. Dear God, what had he imagined it was? A winged demon? A vengeful wraith?
Taking a deep breath, he glanced around the empty bedroom where he knew Sir Harry Summerton had often made love to his paramour. The furniture had gone, but he could see where the canopied bed once stood against the wall because its silhouette was marked on the faded rose silk.
A nerve flickered at his temple. He’d despised Harry’s memory for so long now that he almost felt nothing. The sighs and sweet sensuous sounds of the past tried to reach out to him, but he was immune. This was only one place where Harry had betrayed his wife with his mistress. And still Camilla cherished his memory! Turning on his heel, he returned to the staircase, and as he descended he could still hear the pigeon flapping helplessly against the ceiling as it tried to find a way out.
He rode back to Summerton Park as if the hounds of hell were behind him, just as he’d ridden back that other day. On that occasion he’d confronted Harry in the stables while a thunderstorm raged overhead; today the sky was blue and the sun was shining as he simply handed his horse over to a waiting groom and went into the house.
