by Mary Balogh
Saunders looked back at him but did not venture any suggestion.
“I believe,” Joshua said, moving away from the window and grinning, “I am about to make the progress of this plot even less smooth, Saunders. I believe I am going to enjoy my day. Tomorrow you may give me a progress report on the new buildings and the repairs that were to be undertaken as soon as the harvest was in. I will want to see the home farm too and speak with my workers and their wives while I am here.”
“Yes, my lord,” his steward said, “I am at your command anytime you wish.”
Joshua left the office wing of the house to see if any of the family or guests were up yet. But he must have been with Saunders longer than he had realized. Almost everyone was already assembled in the breakfast parlor.
“Good morning,” he said, striding inside. “And a crisp, bright one it looks to be. Perhaps we could all drive or ride into Lydmere later? It is a pretty little fishing village with a harbor and beach below it. Ah, Freyja.” He took her hand in his, raised it to his lips, and kept it there a little longer than was necessary while he smiled into her eyes.
He might as well amuse himself by annoying both her and his aunt, he thought. Freyja's eyebrows arched upward, Alleyne grinned, Calvin cleared his throat, and his aunt smiled sweetly.
But playing the ardent lover was easier than living the reality of a fake betrothal, he decided, as he helped himself to food from the sideboard and seated himself at the head of the table. Last night's embrace had been more frustrating than satisfying, especially since he now knew what it was like to take an embrace with Freyja to its completion. He was, he had realized last night, in grave danger of falling ever so slightly in love with Freyja Bedwyn. He was going to have to work diligently to keep their relationship to its familiar pattern. The last thing he wanted was to be seriously in love with anyone.
He joined in the general conversation until Eve and Aidan, the last to arrive, since they had been in the nursery with their children, had sat down and begun to eat.
“It has occurred to me,” he said, “that my homecoming will be an occasion to be remarked upon in the neighborhood—and I daresay my arrival did not go unnoticed yesterday. When it is known that I have also brought home with me my future bride, the occasion will be seen as one to be celebrated indeed. A grand ball at Penhallow would be in order—perhaps one week hence? I will see to most of the arrangements myself, but I have not been here for five years and doubtless do not know everyone who lives in the neighborhood now. You will help me with the guest list, I trust, Aunt? And Constance and Chastity too?”
Constance, flushed and bright-eyed, nodded her acquiescence. Chastity smiled.
“What a perfectly delightful idea, Joshua,” his aunt said, smiling sweetly, “even if I am still in mourning for your dear uncle. But you must remember that this is neither London nor Bath. There are very few families of any note living within ten miles of Penhallow. A small dinner and reception will be more in order. I will send out the invitations myself and make arrangements with the cook.”
“About the dainties to be served at the ball, yes,” he said, smiling at her. “Thank you, Aunt. I would appreciate that. I made many friends during my years in Lydmere. A number of them would enjoy kicking up their heels in the ballroom here, I daresay. And there are all my tenants, as well as the workers on my property. It will be like a village assembly more than a ton ball. It is to be hoped that your more genteel friends will not be offended by it, Aunt. I understand that Mrs. Lumbard has returned from Bath with her daughter. We will invite them. Perhaps her nephew will escort them—Hugh Garnett, is it?”
His aunt noticeably paled and stared at him with pinched lips. Chastity's fork clattered to her plate.
“He does escort his aunt about occasionally, I hear,” Joshua said. “Indeed, I believe he escorted her here to tea quite recently?”
The Bedwyns were all watching and listening with avid interest, he noticed. Constance was staring at her plate, though she was not eating. Chastity's wide eyes were fixed upon Joshua's face. Calvin cleared his throat again.
“And so he did,” his aunt said. “A pleasant young man. Edwina Lumbard dotes on him.”
“And yet, Aunt,” Joshua said, “I believe he must have upset you badly when he ripped open old wounds that were perhaps beginning to heal.”
“Whatever do you mean, Joshua?” She set one hand over her heart while her shoulders sagged and her face looked haggard and pathetic.
“I believe,” he said, “Garnett suggested to you, Aunt, that Albert's death five years ago was not accidental, but that he was, in fact, murdered. And I believe that he named me as the murderer.”
“Oh, no, Joshua,” Eve said, her hand too over her heart.
“Why, the devil!” Alleyne exclaimed.
“If this is correct,” Aidan said, “it is a serious charge indeed, Joshua.”
“Gracious heavens,” Freyja said, raising her coffee cup to her lips with a perfectly steady hand. “Am I betrothed to a murderer? How very diverting!”
Chastity was looking deathly pale. So was Constance.
The Reverend Calvin Moore got to his feet, cleared his throat again, and raised his hands, as if he were about to speak a benediction.
“You are quite right, Hallmere,” he said. “Such a suggestion has indeed been made. Mr. Garnett claims to have been a witness to the events of the night on which my cousin died. It was because of this that Cousin Corinne summoned me here. She felt the need of a man, and a relative, to advise her. But this is hardly the time or the place to discuss such a distressing matter.”
“I cannot think of a better time or place,” Joshua said, smiling at him. “Do sit down again, Calvin. We are all family or potential family here.”
The marchioness was clutching her throat, her face suddenly gray. “Joshua, my dear,” she said faintly. “I never for a moment believed a word Mr. Garnett said. I do not know why he would say such things. But I did indeed feel the need to consult with someone wiser than I, a man, someone in the family. And Cousin Calvin is a clergyman.”
“I hope my unexpected arrival yesterday did not discompose you too severely, Calvin,” Joshua said. “But I assure you that you are quite safe here with me. I was with Albert the night he drowned, but I did not kill him. When was I to be summoned home to defend myself against these charges, Aunt? Or did your letter to Lindsey Hall pass me while I was on my way here?”
“You must understand, Joshua,” she said, “that I was dreadfully upset. I did not know what to do. I urged Cousin Calvin to come to advise me. I did not want to bring you here where you might be in danger.”
“That was remarkably thoughtful of you,” he said.
“Well.” She dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “You are my nephew. You have always been like my son.”
“Constance,” he said, turning his eyes on her, “do you believe that I might have murdered your brother?”
She raised her eyes to his. “No,” she said. “No, I do not, Joshua.”
“Chass?” He looked at the girl, who was still staring at him with wide eyes in a pale face. “Do you believe it?”
She shook her head slowly. “No,” she whispered.
“Calvin?” he asked his cousin, who had just resumed his seat.
Calvin cleared his throat—a habit with him, it seemed. “You were ever a mischievous boy, Hallmere,” he said. “But you were never vicious, as far as I recall. I would believe this of you only if the evidence were to prove your guilt beyond any reasonable doubt.”
“Fair enough,” Joshua said. “Freyja?”
“The morning is slipping by while we talk such nonsense,” she said, her nose in the air, her tone haughty. “I am eager for the ride into the village you have promised us.”
“Oh, so am I, Joshua,” Morgan said.
“And I daresay the children are champing at the bit in their eagerness to be taken outside,” Aidan added. “I would be pleased to accompany you on a visit to Mr. Gar
nett later today, though, Joshua. I suppose you do intend to call on him?”
“Indeed,” Joshua said. “Calvin, you had better come along too.”
His aunt dabbed at her lips again. “Mr. Garnett is from home,” she said.
“Indeed, ma'am?” Aidan said.
“I would have invited him here to speak with Cousin Calvin if he had not been,” she said. “I am as eager as anyone to hear him admit that he was mistaken. But he has gone away for a few days.”
“Indeed.” Joshua regarded her with some amusement.
“At such a time?” Alleyne was all amazement. “When he should be going to a magistrate with his evidence? But what I cannot understand, I must confess, Joshua, is why he has waited for five years and why he has decided to come forward now.”
“Garnett is from home, I daresay,” Joshua said, “in order to think through his evidence with more care. He would be foolish to proceed too hastily, would he not, especially after waiting so long. Any trial would pit his word against mine, and I am, after all, the Marquess of Hallmere. It is to be hoped that he does not prove overzealous, though. He needs to remember that a fishing boat—I assume it was a fishing boat from which he witnessed this dastardly crime—would have been perfectly visible to me and, more to the point, to Albert. Why did he row away and offer no assistance? Was he afraid that I would murder him too?”
“You make light of the matter, Joshua,” his aunt said in her plaintive whine. “But it may prove serious indeed. I could not bear to lose another son or a nephew who has always been as dear as a son to me. I might almost suggest that you leave now while you may, and disappear. At least you would be safe then.”
“Ah, but I would hate myself if I were to take the coward's way out,” Joshua said, grinning.
“And I would hate not to be mistress of Penhallow,” Freyja said disdainfully as she got to her feet. “But this conversation grows more and more tedious. I am going riding, even if I must do so alone.”
The Bedwyns all got to their feet too, and the others followed suit, except for the marchioness, who looked too ill and frail to move.
“Since Garnett is not to be confronted today, then,” Joshua said, “we might as well enjoy the good weather. Shall we meet in the hall half an hour from now? The children and Prue too? Come, Aunt, you must not upset yourself further. I shall have a few harsh words for Garnett when I do see him for having so preyed upon your delicate sensibilities. Allow me to help you to your room.” He offered her his arm and she had little choice but to take it.
“I hope you will talk to him, Joshua,” she said, leaning heavily upon him. “I really cannot bear all this.”
It was quickly apparent to Freyja that Joshua was very well liked both at Penhallow and in the village of Lydmere. The servants, she noticed at the house, had a habit of smiling brightly at him even whenever they served him or were in his line of vision. She could not help but make the comparison between them and the servants at Lindsey Hall, who would no more have dreamed of smiling at Wulfric than they would of breaking into song and dance in his presence.
In Lydmere the reaction was even more marked. He was recognized instantly as he rode along beside Freyja at the head of their party. Everywhere people were curtsying or bowing or tugging at their forelocks. That was not so remarkable in itself since he was the Marquess of Hallmere, but, in addition, every face was wreathed in smiles, and some of the bolder villagers even called out greetings. Predictably—oh, utterly so, she thought, half in exasperation, half in a grudging admiration—Joshua was down off his horse at the first opportunity and tossing the reins to Alleyne before shaking hands and clasping shoulders and even kissing a few withered female cheeks.
His face was alight with merriment and affection.
It was the moment at which Freyja realized fully what grave peril she was in. Every minute was revealing more and more of his humanity to her. This morning at breakfast he had been bold and forthright, a hint of ruthlessness behind his courtesy and his smile. She might have been able to resist that man. Now he was full of warmth and laughter and concern for the friendship of people Freyja did not normally consider worthy of notice—it was a strangely shameful realization. This man was altogether harder to resist. He was so very different from any other man of her class and acquaintance.
Of course, she might have been forewarned and have avoided all this. He had gone rushing to the rescue of a servant girl who had been frightened by a squirrel, had he not?
But he did not neglect the relatives and guests he had brought to the village for an outing. They stabled their horses at the village inn and went inside for tea or ale and muffins. They sat in the public taproom, and he proceeded to point out various details of the view from the window and to describe other attractions they might find of interest. Eve and Aidan did not stay long. They took the children back outside and down onto the beach Joshua had indicated—not as wide as the private beach of Penhallow on the other side of the river, but just as picturesque in its own way with its several jetties and numerous boats bobbing on the sea or stranded on the sand, the water being at half-tide. Chastity took Prue with them. Calvin invited Constance to stroll along the front street with him, and after a while Morgan and Alleyne went to explore the narrow, sloping streets and to look in the few shops the village offered.
Joshua introduced Freyja to Isaac Perrie, the innkeeper—a novel experience for her. He was a bald-headed, gap-toothed, florid-faced giant of a man.
“A fine lady you have found for yourself, lad,” he said, pumping Joshua's hand, which looked lost in his huge paw. “And right glad we all will be in Lydmere here when you marry her and come home to Penhallow to stay.”
He settled in for a chat, standing wide-legged before them, wiping his hands on his large apron. Freyja could not decide whether to feel amused or outraged but decided upon the former. Life with Joshua was never dull.
“And Hugh Garnett,” Joshua was saying when she brought her attention back to the conversation. “He is doing well, I hear.”
The innkeeper tutted and tossed his glance ceilingward. “Aye, well enough,” he said. “On ill-gotten gains, no doubt. But live and let live is my motto, lad, as you well know.”
“He seems not quite prepared to let me live, though,” Joshua said with a chuckle. “In fact, he has been to my aunt recently claiming to have seen me kill my cousin five years ago.”
“No!” Mr. Perrie stopped wiping his hands for a moment. “Is he daft?”
“He is from home,” Joshua said, “and so I cannot pay him a social call yet. I daresay he has been wise enough to go to round up a few other witnesses. Any wagers on who they will be?”
“I am not daft enough to make any wager,” the man said. “There would be no one to bet against me. Leave the matter in my hands, lad. You take your lady out to see the sights. An honor and a privilege to make your acquaintance, ma'am.”
The fresh sea breeze caught at Freyja's hat as they stepped out of the inn, and she raised an arm to hold it in place.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
“Hugh Garnett,” he explained, “attempted to set up a smuggling business here a number of years ago. There was nothing in that to get excited about—smuggling is big business all along the south coast of England. But his underlings were an imported gang of thugs, and they attempted to rule the trade with an iron fist. They were persuaded of their mistake and took themselves off to other parts.”
“I take it,” she said, “that you were one of the people who did the persuading. And that Isaac Perrie was another?”
He chuckled and took her elbow.
“There is someone I want you to meet,” he said.
He took her to a pretty whitewashed cottage close to the harbor and knocked on the door. It was the home of Richard Allwright, the elderly carpenter who had trained and employed Joshua. He and his wife invited them in and insisted upon their drinking another cup of tea before Mrs. Allwright proudly displayed a small, beautiful
ly carved wooden table that Joshua had made under her husband's tutelage and given her when he finished his apprenticeship.
“It is one of my treasures,” she told Freyja.
“You had real talent, Josh,” Freyja said, running her hand over the smooth surface of the wood and trying to picture him as he must have been in those days.
“Have, ma'am, not had,” Mr. Allwright assured her. “Carpentry is a talent that does not die even when it is not practiced. And so now, lad, you are going to waste your time being a marquess instead of earning an honest living, are you?” But he laughed heartily and dug Joshua in the ribs with his elbow. “It is good to see you home. I never could understand why you felt you had to leave. You will like it here, ma'am.”
“I believe I will,” Freyja said, feeling, strangely, that she spoke the truth. Or that it would be the truth if she had any intention of staying. She had not expected to like Cornwall, but there was something about this particular part of it that grabbed at her heart.
“There is someone I want you to meet,” Joshua said after they had left the carpenter's house.
“Again?” Freyja said.
He looked at her and grinned.
“This is not quite your idea of an exciting morning, I suppose,” he said.
He was like a boy, exuberant with happiness. She tipped her head to one side and regarded him through eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun.
“Josh,” she said, “why did you leave here?”
Some of the light went out of his eyes as they stood outside the door facing each other.
“Albert was dead and I was the heir,” he said. “My aunt and uncle were devastated by grief and inclined to blame me, though murder was never mentioned. I blamed myself. I rowed beside him until he was within his depth, but I did not watch him all the way to shore. He got leg cramps and went under, I suppose. I could not stay here after that.”
It did not sound sufficient reason to her. Surely his uncle would have wanted him to stay, to learn his future responsibilities. But it was none of her business.
