‘It is twelve noon, so I dare say she will be taking dinner in the kitchen.’
‘Then tell her to stop feeding her face and return to her duties, at once.’
Ignoring her request, Jago went to stand beside the bed, gazing down upon the man who had initially welcomed him into his family, even allowing him to take his name. The smile he gave his mother did not reach his frost-grey eyes. ‘That is a most attractive taffeta gown you are wearing this morning, Mama, if somewhat gloomy. Would you call it navy blue or black? Anyone would think you were about to enter into mourning.’
‘I rather thought I might be,’ Lydia said, with a small smile.
‘Has there been any sign of life yet?’
‘None. Doctor Bevan believes he has slipped into some kind of coma, from which he may, or may not, wake.’
Mother and son looked at each other, sharing the same thought. ‘And what if he doesn’t – wake, that is?’ Jago asked at length, in his characteristically soft drawl.
Lydia came to put her arms about him and rest her cheek against the hard plains of his chest. She could hear his heart beating, which always excited her. It had had that effect upon her ever since she’d first held Jago in her arms as a newborn baby. ‘The doctor says he could well remain in this comatose state for months, if not years.’
‘Years?’ Jerking free of her cloying hold, he stared at her, appalled.
‘Indeed, that’s what he said. Years. Or else poor Sir Ralph could suffer another relapse and die tomorrow. It is hard to say which is the most likely,’ Lydia explained as she carefully adjusted her husband’s pillows.
‘In the meantime you must continue to play the good wife?’
She smiled, although the pale-blue eyes remained cold and calculating. ‘Indeed I must. Haven’t I always spoilt him, not least by providing him with his favourite food?’
Jago snorted with ironic laughter. ‘So much so that he quickly became too heavy to ride out on his horse around the grounds, which meant he wasn’t able to keep quite as close an eye on the estate as he should, or on his wife for that matter. What a neat trick that was, Mama. And I seem to recall you kept him well supplied with the finest brandy and port.’
She was laughing with him now, even as she stroked the dark curls from his handsome face; a quiet, satisfied chuckle of amusement at her own cleverness. ‘I also made certain that he slept well every night with the aid of my herbal sleeping potions, particularly when his dyspepsia was troubling him. Oh, indeed I was, and in fact still am, the most diligent and caring of wives, as is only right and proper when tending a decrepit old husband.’
He kissed the tip of her pert nose. ‘And, once you’d successfully alienated him from his only son, you very cleverly milked the estate of thousands without your decrepit old husband even being aware of it. And why not? Don’t you deserve suitable recompense in view of how miserly he was?’
Lydia’s smile of self-satisfaction quickly faded. ‘The problem now, Jago, is that land is no longer the rich source of wealth it once was, and as a consequence Sir Ralph insists he has less liquid capital than he previously enjoyed. I battled with that offensive little man, that Bartlett fellow, ordering him to cut down on repairs, but even though I’m now rid of him we still have the problem of finding tenants willing to pay a decent rent. It’s extremely difficult, what with farming in the sorry state it is.’
‘Don’t worry your lovely head about all of that. You can safely leave recalcitrant tenants to me.’
‘I know I can, my darling, but the holding out at Lanlivery has been standing empty for three months or more. It is quite unacceptable.’
‘If we fail to find a tenant, then we must sell it. We surely have plenty more farms on the estate.’
‘Sir Ralph would never agree, and we’d need his signature.’
Jago smirked in disbelief. ‘I cannot recall you ever being fazed by the inconvenience of acquiring a correct signature in the past, Mama? Besides, I doubt there will be cause to worry about money for much longer.’
They both looked down at the paralysed figure, as if suddenly recalling his presence, half afraid he might actually be able to see them or hear what they were saying.
‘I did it for the sake of my boys. Never for myself, you understand? I have to consider their needs,’ Lydia told the corpse-like form, just in case he could.
‘Of course you did, Mother dear,’ Jago said, slipping an arm about her tightly corseted waist and giving her an affectionate squeeze.
Lydia’s face was expressionless as she continued to gaze upon her husband. But when she lifted it to meet that of her son’s, it burnt with the fervour of her need. ‘It would seem that the end of our purgatory might well be in sight.’
‘We must make sure that it is,’ Jago quietly agreed. And as he bent to kiss her rouged cheek, Lydia turned her face at the last second so that his kiss landed quite close to her smiling mouth. The pair of them were always in such perfect accord.
Chapter Five
At any other time, this being her first ride on a steam train, Rose would have been filled with excitement. It was nowhere near as thrilling as embarking on a ship to America with her family, but an adventure all the same. Yet in the circumstances she could take no pleasure in it. She was boiling up inside. Rose could hardly speak, her anger with Joe was so great. The tension between them seemed to grow as the miles slipped by, and they studiously avoided each other’s eye.
‘What were you thinking of, to come out with that remark?’ she challenged him at last, the words bursting out of her as the train chugged steadily along.
‘Don’t start shouting at me. We agreed that neither of us wanted to end up starving or worse, in some godforsaken hole on Bristol waterfront.’
‘We did not agree,’ Rose vociferously argued, causing heads to turn so that she was obliged to drop her voice to a hissing whisper. ‘You were ranting on about not trusting the Tregowans, but I have every faith in them.’
‘So why didn’t you tell him straight out who you were?’
‘I tried.’
‘Not hard enough.’
‘He arrogantly interrupted me, that’s when he noticed me at all. I did mean to say who I was right at the start, but he so put my back up I couldn’t seem to get the words out. But then I didn’t expect you to barge in and say what you did.’
Joe grinned at her, his green-brown eyes twinkling with admiration. ‘You could easily be a lady, looking so elegant in that fine blue gown. You look a proper society beauty, Rosie, you do really. He clearly took you for one.’
‘Stop that!’ Rose’s cheeks flushed bright crimson. ‘I was only doing what I was told. Rosalind insisted I make use of her clothes, and the parasol for identification purposes. Like I say, I meant to introduce myself right away. I only hesitated because you put a doubt in my mind, and I promised I’d see the baby safely into the right hands, and that’s what I mean to do. But once you’d addressed me as “My Lady” and “Her Ladyship”, how could I deny it without leaving you open to accusations of fraud or deception? Can’t you see what you’ve done, Joe? You’ve ruined everything.’
‘No, actually, I don’t see it that way at all. Bryce Tregowan could easily have snatched the child and left us standing there. How would you have felt about that?’
Rose gathered Robbie protectively close, rocking him gently at this frightening thought. ‘Why would he do such a thing? Anyway, you insisted that the Tregowan family wouldn’t want him. You can’t have it both ways. And how on earth do we get out of this muddle now, tell me that?’
Joe put his mouth close to her ear so that there was no risk of anyone in the carriage overhearing a word he said. ‘We play our cards carefully, that’s what we do. We keep them very close to our chest. We watch the Tregowan family. We listen and observe. Once we’re satisfied that they want the babby, that they are willing and able to offer him a good home, plus a job as his nursemaid for you, and a place for me, then you can come clean and own up. You did promi
se your beloved Rosalind that you’d act as guardian to her son, so why shouldn’t you check them out first, before simply handing him over?’
Rose thought about this for a while as the train rumbled on, turning the argument over in her mind, for it did make a certain sense. ‘But they’ll think we’re after money or something.’
‘How can they if we don’t take any? Anyway, if they keep us, we won’t need money, will we? For now, anyway.’ Joe could see she was weakening. If he could just persuade her not to spill the beans, he could see a whole new future opening up for them both.
‘I’d never be able to carry it off, pretending to be a proper lady when I’m not.’
‘Course you could, and it wouldn’t be for long, only a day or two, no more, just till we’re sure Robbie is safe.’ It would be far longer if Joe had his way, but one step at a time.
Rose sighed, fidgeting on the wooden seat, which was far from comfortable. But the rhythm of the engine was soothing her, exhaustion from the long voyage finally setting in. The sway of the carriage was so much less bothersome on the stomach than an ocean-going ship, particularly one caught up in a storm. She thought sadly of Rosalind’s final hours with overwhelming seasickness adding to her misery, poor lady. Rose thought of her own misery in steerage, of the ache of hunger deep in her belly, with which she was painfully familiar. She remembered the ladies of the night who had waited with her in the holding pen, and how she could easily become one if she and Joe didn’t find employment soon.
Because of Rosalind’s kindness, Rose meant to make absolutely certain that she did right by her friend and take the baby to his grandfather. But not for a moment had she imagined things would turn out like this, finding herself embroiled in a lie. There was a real danger of them being considered fraudsters, yet Rose was anxious to ensure that Robbie was indeed wanted, and would be safe with the Tregowans. As Joe said, they had turned away his own father.
She cuddled the baby and kissed his brow, gazing in wonder at the way his fair lashes fanned each plump cheek, his little mouth contentedly pursed in sleep. He was such a good little thing, no trouble at all. She loved him dearly already. You only had to look at him to fall instantly under his spell. And Rose still nursed a fervent hope that she’d be taken on as his nursemaid. Wouldn’t that be grand?
But it had not been an auspicious start. Her mind kept replaying what Bryce Tregowan had said, or rather what he had not said. He hadn’t offered one word of welcome, not even a ‘delighted you could come’, or ‘happy to meet you’. He must be the rudest man she’d ever met. Did he really imagine that a woman of Rosalind Tregowan’s quality would arrive from America with only one piece of luggage? The foolish man probably never gave the matter a moment’s thought. Then to go on and accuse her of having a lover was utterly despicable. Was he quite without common sense or decency? It was perfectly clear that the sight of the baby had thrown him completely. Now why was that? she wondered.
‘So what did you think of him, then, this Bryce Tregowan?’ she asked Joe, quietly marvelling at the views of the sea, and the way the waves splashed over the railway track without seeming to hinder the train.
‘Pompous idiot!’
Rose giggled. ‘My thoughts entirely. What is it about the upper classes that makes them so arrogant and pretentious? Who does he think he is to cast such aspersions upon a respectable lady?’
‘And he could at least have provided us with a meal before abandoning us,’ Joe complained, rubbing his aching belly. ‘I don’t know about you but I’m fair starved.’
Rose sighed. ‘Me too, but it’s not his fault that we’re hungry, is it? Or that we’re not who he thinks we are, with not a penny to our name to buy a crust of bread. I dread to think what the rest of the family will be like.’
They both fell silent then, wrapped in their own private thoughts, and each quietly nursing a gnawing hunger. Food had proved hard to come by after Rosalind’s death as Rose had been far too nervous to enter the first-class dining room, preferring to beg the ship’s cook for a few scraps now and then, as well as milk for the baby. Thankfully, he’d taken pity on her, but poor Joe had naturally remained in steerage. Now she was more worried than she admitted. Bryce Tregowan’s behaviour had been odd, to say the least. And there was no getting away from it, Joe rushing in like that and pretending to be her manservant had complicated matters considerably.
‘The minute we’re satisfied all is well, we make it clear who we were really are, agreed?’
‘Agreed!’
Lulled by the train she rested her head on his shoulder, and minutes later she was fast asleep.
This time when they reached their destination they were met by a chauffeur who scurried about opening doors for her, as if she really were a lady, while ignoring Joe completely.
The drive through the Cornish countryside was deliciously pleasant on this sunny afternoon in late May, with the scent of new grass and blossom in the air. Yet it was nerve-wracking too. While Joe rode up front with the driver, Rose sat back on the leather cushions, revelling in this unexpected luxury. Perhaps if she really were Rosalind, here to meet her late husband’s family for the first time, she’d still be feeling a certain degree of nervousness at the prospect.
Sternly reminding herself that this was not the case, Rose occupied the few miles of the journey carefully practising in her mind how to approach this most sensitive situation. She’d changed the baby’s napkin on the train, so that he would be fresh and sweet-smelling when he met his new family. Surely a baby could win the coldest heart, so she truly did not share Joe’s doubts that the family wouldn’t welcome him. How could they not fall in love with him, as she had done?
Rosalind had been most reassuring that her father-in-law was anxious to heal the breach, passing off the family dispute with a philosophical smile. ‘You needn’t fear. Sir Ralph has a reputation for being the kindest of men, which makes it all the more sad that he and Robert, his only son, became estranged, a situation they both afterwards regretted. But his reply to my request for assistance came swiftly, and with real compassion. He did not hesitate to offer me a home and a warm welcome at Penver Court.’
Rosalind had apparently chosen to say nothing of the coming child at that stage of their correspondence, in case anything should go wrong. She explained to Rose that as Sir Ralph had already lost a son, she’d no wish to raise false hopes until the baby was safely delivered.
So if Rosalind had been happy to make her home with a father-in-law she’d never met, in a country she’d never even seen, Rose saw no reason why the old man would not be overjoyed to welcome this grandson in her place, particularly as the poor little mite was now an orphan. Although this stepmother might have a different view of the matter, Rose worried.
Refreshed from her sleep on the train, she was convinced that she would soon be able to explain away Joe’s foolish remark at the docks as a bit of brashness on his part. She’d politely assure the family that she hadn’t corrected this folly because as the boy’s guardian she needed to be sure that all was well before handing him over. And Mr Bryce Tregowan had not made things easy for her with his cold, unfriendly manner, not least by accusing Joe of being her lover.
Rose decided she would then go on to explain how she’d nursed dear Rosalind in her final hours, and how she had plenty of experience with babies, being the eldest of a large family. She was quietly optimistic that everything would go smoothly, at least until the moment the carriage turned in between two tall gateposts and started down the longest drive she’d ever seen in her life. There must surely be a palace at the end of it, she thought, caught by a sudden attack of nerves. Not that she’d ever seen a palace, or visited such a posh house before, let alone ridden in a fine carriage, so how could she be any judge? But her heart seemed to turn over with fear the moment she was faced with the reality of all her hopes.
‘Be brave,’ she softly chided herself. ‘You’ve faced worse challenges than this, Rose Belsfield, and survived.’
For a moment Rose ached to be with her own family, wherever they were in America. She prayed they were now safely with Aunt Cassie. Oh, but how she longed to rest her head on her mother’s breast and be told all would be well; to see Micky, and Mary, the twins, and silly Clara again. How she missed them. And what was she even doing here, in the middle of Cornwall, taking the orphan child of a perfect stranger to a family she’d never even met?
Edging forward in her seat, eager for her first view of Penver Court, the sight that met her eyes when the carriage drew to a halt in a clatter of horses’ hooves on gravel was a coffin. It was being carried across the courtyard, a trail of mourners following in its wake.
‘We’d best sit and wait till they pass, if you don’t mind, My Lady,’ said the driver, coming to stand by the carriage window. ‘Or maybe you’d like to join them in the family pew to pay your last respects to our dear departed lord?’
In that moment of horror Rose realised that she had arrived too late. Sir Ralph Tregowan, with his generous heart and anxiety to heal the wounds of a family rift, never would meet his new grandson. As well as dealing with Joe’s foolish remark, she now had a worse problem to face. She would no doubt have to put forward her case to the arrogant Bryce Tregowan instead.
Rose was too shy and nervous to join this unknown family in their private pew close to the altar, instead choosing to remain at the back of the small chapel and view proceedings from a safe distance. She could see, however, that they were only too aware of her presence. The younger of the two women turned at once to look at her, then bent her head to whisper to the older woman, who must be the stepmother Rosalind had mentioned. She too swung about to cast a withering glance in Rose’s direction, the curled feather in her pert little hat seeming to quiver with disapproval in a most disconcerting manner. The man seated beside her likewise glowered when prompted to also look her way by the two ladies. Rose recognised Bryce Tregowan instantly, but he seemed to be studiously avoiding her eye.
My Lady Deceiver Page 6
