by Ruth Owen
Sarah bit her lip, her earlier confidence wavering. Rina’s answer had stumped her, but she was clearly not yet prepared to trust her new cousin. There was a wariness in her eyes that told Rina the girl had been deeply hurt in the past. Hardly surprising, since Sarah would have been five when her mother passed away. She’d have been old enough to remember, but not to understand. As if something like that could ever be understood.
A lump rose in Rina’s throat as she glanced from one child to the other. “We have something in common, you and I. We have all lost our mothers.”
She expected Sarah’s expression to soften. Instead, she winced as if from a physical blow. “It’s not true. What you’ve heard about my mother, it isn’t true.”
Sabrina blinked in surprise. “I haven’t heard anything, Sarah. I just want to be your friend.”
Sarah stepped back, dragging her confused younger brother after her. She headed for the door, but turned back before she left the room. “I’ll never be your friend, no matter what you say!”
Mrs. Poldhu may have the temperament of a sergeant major, but she set a table that would have done Buckingham Palace proud. In fact, the whole breakfast had been very satisfying. The dowager was warm and welcoming. Lady Amy was preoccupied with her own thoughts, but she had not been overtly unkind. Ill-tempered Mrs. Cherry considered it uncivilized for anyone to rise before one. And the earl had left shortly after dawn with Mr. Cherry to visit the mine. Had it not been for her concern over Sarah’s disturbing behavior, Rina might have genuinely enjoyed herself. Yet the little girl’s hurt and angry words kept coming back to her. What you’ve heard about my mother, it isn’t true.
The dowager paused in her morning ritual of depositing exactly one and one half teaspoons of sugar in her morning tea, and looked across the breakfast table. “Do you ride, Prudence?”
“Yes, I do, Grandmother. My father taught me…that is, the Reverend Plowright taught me while we were in Africa.”
“Excellent. It promises to be a fine day. Amy shall take you riding and introduce you to the Ravenshold grounds.”
The decree jarred a petulant protest from Amy. “Grandmother, I have…other plans.”
“Those plans will wait. It is important that we reacquaint Prudence with her birthright, and since your brother has apparently ignored this duty, you must step in. and it will give you a chance to get to know each other.”
Lady Amy looked as if she would prefer swallowing a bottle of foul-tasting medicine to squiring her cousin, and Rina was just as loath to spend the day with the spoiled miss. Besides, she had plans of her own—such as finding Quinn and discussing the next phase of their deception.
“Of course I would love to spend time with my cousin,” Rina lied, “but I cannot go riding with her. ‘Tis been years since I’ve sat a horse. I do not even own a habit.”
The dowager swept aside her argument with a majestic wave of her hand. “Amy ordered several new dresses last month, including a new habit. Her old one will suit you until we can secure the services of a modiste. As for not being on a horse in years, it don’t signify. Riding is in a Trevelyan’s blood, like Ravenshold and Wheal Grace. No, you two shall spend the afternoon in happy association. I will allow no more discussion on the matter.”
The dowager was true to her word: A scant hour later, two displeased-looking ladies riding a bay gelding and a sorrel mare left the stable yard for a tour of the grounds of Ravenshold.
Lady Penelope had been right about it being a lovely day. The endless blue sky was dotted with only a few woolly clouds, and the sunlight winked across the calm sea like a handful of butterflies. Yesterday Sabrina had thought the land bleak and barren, but she’d been wrong. Bright pink blossoms grew right up to the edge of the cliffs—sea thrift, Amy called it—and the woods beyond were overflowing with bluebells, jonquils, and other wildflowers. The smell was intoxicating. Fat larks and chattering magpies skittered through the gnarled branches of old oaks, setting up a chorus as fine as any church choir. Everywhere Rina looked, the land seemed to be bursting with color and life, from the green lawns to the flower-filled woods to the whitewashed cottages of the fishing village in the nearby cove.
“That white tower,” Rina said as she shielded her eyes against the noonday sun. “The one rising up beyond the trees. Is that a lighthouse?”
“That’s the engine at Wheal Grace,” Amy answered. “It houses the steam engine that runs the whim.”
“Whim?”
“The winding device that lifts the miners up and down the shaft,” she explained irritably, as if Rina should have already known such things. “Are you sure this sun is not too hot for you? You look fatigued.”
“I feel fine,” Rina assured her. It was the truth. The lusty sea wind blew a hint of salt spray against her cheeks. And the simple hunter’s green riding habit Amy had lent her was far more to her liking than the tricked-up gowns Quinn had bought for her. She leaned forward and patted her mount’s neck, feeling more content than she had since she’d escaped from her stepmother’s. “In fact, I feel quite marvelous. Tell me, what are the red stakes for? The ones driven into the ground near the cliff’s edge.”
“They mark loose rocks, and the parts of the cliff paths that were weakened by yesterday’s rain. And speaking of yesterday, I know yours was rather exhausting. You still look a bit peaked. Perhaps you should return to the house and—”
“I’m fine,” Sabrina repeated emphatically as she turned her mount away from the cliff’s edge.
They followed the rocky path toward the forest. Sabrina momentarily halted her mount as her skirt snagged on a bramble. She worked it free and looked up, and caught sight of Amy perched on the edge of her saddle and peering into the wood’s tangled shadows, clearly expecting to see something—or someone. When she saw that Rina was watching her, she sat hastily back in her seat. “Uhm, delightful weather we are having, isn’t it?”
Amy was up to something—Rina just didn’t know what. Perhaps it had something to do with the “young Fitzroy” whose letter had so preoccupied her attention in the sitting room. The dense, deserted woods would have been an ideal spot for a lovers’ tryst. Pulling her horse to Amy’s side, Rina stole a glance at the young woman’s profile. She seemed the picture of angelic innocence, but Rina knew just how deceiving looks could be.
A young man erupted from the woods in front of them—but not the kind of young man she’d expected. He was a sandy-haired stable lad of about thirteen, riding an old piebald gelding. He carried a large wicker hamper in front of him and had several fat leather sacks slung over his saddle. After clearing the forest he halted and stood in the path, looking from side to side.
When he caught sight of Amy, he rode toward her with all the speed he could urge out of the plodding old horse. “Here it is, your ladyship. I brought the whole lot, including the tarts, though I had to steal them off of the windowsill while they were like to burn my—”
The lad saw Sabrina. Both his horse and words came to a dead halt. He glanced to Amy, then back to Rina, his eyes wide with guilt and alarm. “I don’t know nothin’ about nothin’.”
Confused, Sabrina walked her mount toward Amy. “Cousin, what is going on here?”
Amy bit her lip while she fiddled with her reins. Then, sighing, she raised her chin, and met Sabrina’s questioning glance with a forthright gaze. “All right, I will tell you. There’s no point hiding it, since you have tumbled on to our secret. Toby was following my orders. I told him to steal the food. A few months ago my maid Clara Hobbs was turned off. Her father drowned in a sudden storm last year, and her family can ill-afford the loss of her pay. I take them food when I can to ease their predicament.”
Rina furrowed her brow, still not understanding. “But why the secrecy? Giving food to a family in need is simple Christian charity.”
“There’s nothing simple about it. Clara was turned off because she is going to have a child. But…she has no husband.”
Rina sat back in her sidesaddl
e, comprehending at last. The maid’s act was considered a heinous sin, the kind that deserved the full measure of God’s wrath and society’s condemnation. If the dowager found out that Amy was aiding her wicked servant she would most certainly put an end to it. The nobility did not involve themselves in such sordid matters—though Rina had seen for herself that they were often the cause of them.
Amy took Rina’s silence as censure. “I do not care what you think. Clara is my friend and I will not desert her, especially when everyone else has turned their back on her. And if you tell Grandmother what I am doing, I shall simply find another way to help her!”
Rina’s father had once warned her never to judge the card in the hole by the four face-up ones surrounding it. Grimacing, she realized she’d done just that. She’d lumped Amy in with all the other pretty, spoiled socialites she’d seen, and had failed to see the true gold behind her pampered nature. “I have no intention of telling Grandmother. A few months ago a housemaid I knew was thrown out for a similar reason. I wasn’t in a position to help Kitty, but I’d like to help your friend if you’ll let me.”
Amy regarded her cautiously. Then a warm grin crossed her face, melting her affected, icy loveliness and revealing a far more beautiful soul underneath. “If you truly want to help, then take one of Toby’s sacks. Old Socrates will be glad for the lightened load.”
* * *
Once Amy had decided to trust Rina, there was no stopping her conversation. Confidences poured out like wine in a tavern. In short order Rina learned about the disagreeable Larkin sisters who lived at a nearby estate, the handkerchief scandal at last year’s Christmas Ball which involved Lieutenant Randall and “a married lady,” the concerns the girl had for the poor state of her grandmother’s health, the difficulty in receiving the latest fashion magazines in a timely manner, the names of the flowers, frightening tales of the sea, and the deep, uncompromising affection she bore for Ravenshold and her family.
Sabrina listened to the girl’s chatter and made a mental note that she’d be a useful source of information for the future. Instantly, she felt a stab of conscience. Amy was the sort of person who thrived on conversation and companionship, but the remoteness of Ravenshold gave her little opportunity to meet people her own age. She’d given her friendship wholeheartedly to Rina—a friendship Rina intended to use to help steal the Dutchman.
She wished Quinn had been right about Amy—that she had turned out to be spoiled and self-centered. But nothing about Ravenshold was exactly as it appeared to be. Not the land. Not the dowager. Not the children. Not Trevelyan.
“Is he not the most insufferable creature that you have ever met?” Amy asked.
For a moment Rina feared the young woman had read her mind. She was surprised to hear Amy speak so badly of the brother she’d staunchly defended yesterday. “I thought you were fond of him.”
Amy pulled her horse to a halt. She stared at Sabrina, clearly horrified. “I am not! How can you say that? He is the rudest, most loathsome person alive. If it were not for my grandmother’s health, I would refuse to receive Dr. Williams at Ravenshold.”
Silently Rina chided herself for not paying more attention to the conversation. “Forgive me. I was mistaken.”
“You most certainly were.” Amy nodded, urging her mare forward down the wooded path. “I would never be foolish enough to form a tendresse for the likes of him. When I fall in love it will be with someone well-bred, who has impeccable taste and manners. Someone like Mr. Paris Fitzroy.”
Thinking back, Sabrina recalled that “young Fitzroy” was the author of the letter Amy had been poring over when Rina entered the sitting room. “Is he not the gentleman your grandmother called your intended?”
“He has asked me to marry him, but I have not made up my mind yet. I have known Paris simply forever, and our lands march together—it would be an advantageous match for both families. But there is no hurry. He’s devoted to me, and has said he will wait for my answer whether it takes a month or a lifetime. And ‘tis not as if our estates would suffer. After all, his sister Cassie is going to marry my brother.”
An unexplainable burning sensation flared near Rina’s heart. “I…did not realize the earl was engaged.”
Amy laughed. “La, he has not even asked her. But they are bound to marry someday. Cassie is as devoted to Edward as Paris is to me. I suspect she only married Sir Cyril because her heart was broken over my brother’s marriage to Isabel. Then, when Sir Cyril passed away last fall—he was a good deal older than she was—Edward was at Cassie’s side, just as she was at his side after Isabel…died.”
Amy’s hesitation lasted the barest moment, but that was long enough to raise Rina’s suspicions. She glanced around, and was glad to see that Toby was a good distance behind, whistling broken snippets of a ribald song. Turning back, she leaned toward Amy and lowered her voice to a clandestine whisper. “How did Lady Isabel die?”
Amy looked down and fiddled with her reins. “Uhm, it was the typhus. A sudden and virulent case—”
“Amy, I am no doctor, but I know that typhus takes a fortnight to run its course, and I’ve heard that the countess was the picture of health not three days before her death.”
Amy hesitated, then slowly nodded. “You are right. You are family now, and you have a right to know. Isabel did not die from an illness—that was just a story we invented to protect the children. She was drowned in a shipwreck off the coast of Calais. A sudden Channel squall capsized the boat. Not a soul survived.”
It was a tragic tale—and to Rina’s mind a puzzling one. “But why should you want to keep it a secret? Why not just say that she drowned in a shipwreck?”
“Because of the reason she was on that ship,” Amy replied, her voice growing tight with anger. “Isabel was on her way to France…with her lover.”
Sabrina’s jaw dropped in shock. Growing up in London she’d seen the selfishness of the gentry firsthand, but for a mother to desert her young children—to expose them to the shame and scandal of a public affair—seemed the cruelest act imaginable. “How could she do that to Sarah and David?”
“I don’t know. Isabel always seemed to adore the children. And she and Edward seemed the happiest of couples. My brother took it very hard. For weeks after it happened he kept going to his room, eating too little and drinking too much. The only one who could come near him at all was Cassie. When he did come out, he was a different man—hard, remote, and in a way I can’t explain, hollow. I suppose that does not make sense.”
To Rina it made all the sense in the world. She’d seen the look of emptiness in her father’s eyes after her mother had died—a pain so great that nothing in the world could ever heal it. She didn’t for a moment believe the earl was capable of the kind of love that her father had held for her mother, but if he’d loved his wife even a little, her betrayal must have cut his self-respect to ribbons. She found herself in the surprising position of feeling sorry for Lord Trevelyan.
“You must never tell Edward that I told you this.”
Sabrina grimaced. “I know how to keep a secret. You may depend on that.”
The woods that had seemed so tranquil a moment before now seemed close and confining. Rina was thankful when Amy kicked her mare into a trot, and steered her down the forest path. “We will reach the meadow in a few minutes,” she called over her shoulder. “After that we should have no more obstacles.”
She spoke too soon. Not five minutes passed before the trees began to thin out. Moments later they emerged into a wide, sun-washed meadow—and came face to face with Dr. Williams and Lord Trevelyan.
Chapter Seven
The day had not gone as Edward planned. After a sleepless night he’d left his bedchamber early, intending to confront his “cousin” before breakfast. Mr. Cherry, however, had risen even earlier, and had found several disturbing discrepancies in the mining accounts. Reluctantly putting aside his personal plans, Edward and the solicitor had gone to Wheal Grace to investigate—and disc
overed that his estate manager had been skimming funds that were earmarked for new equipment and safety improvements. The earl had sacked him on the spot.
Leaving Cherry to scrutinize the ledgers, Edward had started back to Ravenshold, but was again side-tracked. This time by Dr. Williams, who’d given Edward an impassioned speech about the deplorable living conditions of his tenants. Again he’d delayed his original plans and followed the physician to the village of Trevelyan Cove. In short order he learned that the generous sums he’d provided for his tenants’ well-being and upkeep had gone the way of his mine improvements.
Now, as he and Dr. Williams traveled the little-used back roads leading to Ravenshold, his thoughts were on his people. He’d always despised absentee landlords who let their estates fall to ruin while they pursued their own interests. True, he’d had his reasons, but this did little to ease his conscience. Ravenshold was his home, and he’d neglected it. I should not have stayed away so long, he thought as he remembered the grim faces of his once cheerful miners and tenants.
