But it wasn’t from either of them. It was from his head groom, Johnson. A problem with Orsini Rose, his prize breeding mare. He briefly glanced with longing at the stairs. Sabine would have to wait a few more minutes. He smiled to himself as he exited the house and made for the stables. It would make for a very demanding welcome on his return.
But when he entered the stable it wasn’t Johnson waiting for him. Just as well, or he’d have torn the groom’s head off for allowing himself to be used in this set up. Amy sat waiting on a straw bale in her nightdress and robe, a very determined look upon her face.
#
An hour after the company had retired for the night, Henry halted at the bottom of the central stairs. Where in Hades was Marcus? Marcus said they’d talk when his guests retired. So where was he?
Henry had searched all the public rooms of the house, checking every last reception room, inadvertently trapping himself for a few moments with Lydia. She’d once more tried seduction, overconfident, very aware of her charms. Charms she’d clearly intended to use to seduce him.
Dragging in a breath—shackling his temper, suppressing his emotions so he could think—he finally thought to look outside. He remembered Orsini rose, Marcus’s wedding gift to Sabine, was in foal and it was near her due date. Perhaps Marcus was at the stables.
Marcus knew he wanted to talk with him. He wanted his friend’s advice. Marcus seemed to have Amy’s trust. Did Marcus or Sabine know if Amy was in love? And if so, with whom?
He heaved a resigned sigh, and headed straight out of the house.
Descending the front steps, he turned and made his way across the cobblestones. As he neared the stables, voices drifted out to him on the breeze. He stopped dead in his tracks. One was Amy’s. The other masculine voice was Marcus’s.
He immediately flattened against the stable wall, inching his way toward the doors, desperately straining to hear what they were saying.
He couldn’t make out the sentences but he heard snippets of words—“Please...” “Mistress...” Marcus cursing. The next thing the stable door flew back and Amy, dressed in her night clothes ran passed him, close enough for Henry to smell her unique scent.
Before he could even gather his wits, a voice came out of the shadows from the corner of the yard. “Well, well. Who would have thought it of young Lady Amy? Marcus, I can perfectly understand. Quite pleased I didn’t offer for the chit. Marcus, lucky bastard. Up to his old tricks again. Didn’t take him long. He never was satisfied with only one woman.”
The essence of the vile words spewing like deadly sulphur from Chesterton’s mouth finally penetrated Henry’s brain. A basic, primitive, rage engulfed him.
“You will apologies for that slanderous statement or by God I’ll shove my fist so far down your throat, you’ll be talking out of your arse.”
Chesterton sneered and blew the smoke from his cheroot in Henry’s face. “It’s hardly slanderous when it’s true. You saw. She was in her night clothes. Plus, I heard him offering to make Amy his mistress.”
Henry grabbed Chesterton by the lapels. “You lie. Marcus would never”-
“Never what? Goodness, Henry what on earth are you doing?”
He released Chesterton and sent him a warning look that said say one word and I’ll kill you. He spun towards the woman who’d arrived unnoticed to stand behind them—Sabine.
He gave Sabine one of his saintly smiles. “Marcus would never endanger his horses just to win a race.”
Chesterton added under his breath. “Marcus would ride anything.”
Henry dug his elbow viciously into Chesterton’s ribs.
“I concur. If any of his horses, were even remotely favoring a leg, he’d pull them from a race.”
Sabine frowned. “I didn’t think any races were coming up.”
Chesterton stepped into the light. “I’m thinking of challenging his stallion Zeus to a race to Silchester and back. I’m positive my horse can win.”
Sabine shook her head as she moved toward the entrance to the stables. “I doubt it. Not unless you have an advantage I know nothing about. No horse can beat Zeus.” And she bade them goodnight and disappeared inside the large open doors.
“I have an advantage all right,” Chesterton muttered under his breath. “I’ll tell his wife who he’s been riding if he doesn’t let me win.”
Henry swung round. “One word of what you witnessed tonight and I’ll call you out.”
Chesterton’s smile deepened. “So, I’m only one of many enchanted by Amy’s charms.” With an evil chuckle Chesterton sauntered towards the house. “I hope your intentions are more honorable than your friend’s, although I wouldn’t take seconds if I were you.”
Henry stood in the dark breathing heavily. Sick to his stomach. It must be a mistake. Marcus would not ruin an innocent. Never. He glanced toward the stable where Sabine had recently entered and realized he’d have to wait until morning to discuss the situation with Marcus. Now more than ever he’d have to offer for Amy. Chesterton had seen her with Marcus. She was ruined even if it was all a misunderstanding.
A little niggle at the back of his brain voiced what he feared to consider—it was just a misunderstanding, wasn’t it?
Chapter Eight
Henry stood outside Garrard’s debating whether to go in. Marcus had lied to his face about being in the stable with Amy last night, and Henry couldn’t help the terrible thoughts swirling in his head.
He hadn’t revealed to Marcus that Chesterton had seen them together too. There were just too many questions unanswered.
Instead, Marcus had suggested he take Amy for a drive. Marcus kept pushing the two of them together, why? Marcus knew he was searching for his mystery lady. Marcus didn’t know that Henry knew who that lady was.
Did Marcus know it was Amy? If so, why play these games? Marcus had sworn he didn’t recognize the earring.
Marcus’s fixation on the virtues of Lady Amy Shipton bordered on obsessive. Could a man be in love with two women at the same time? Marcus was hiding something and Henry didn’t like the implications of what that could be. He’d slipped back to London in the early hours of the morning on the excuse of an important estate matter.
When he’d first shown Harlow and Marcus the earring, Harlow said the earring looked like Garrard’s work, his suspicions resurfaced. He wanted an answer, but at the same time dreaded it.
Marcus only ever bought jewellery from Garrard’s, who were renowned for quality gems. So here he was on Garrard’s doorstep far too early in the morning. His gut told him to enter and prove his disloyal thoughts false. More shame on him. He’d welcome the shame. Wanted to be proved wrong.
For if he was right, there could be only one reason Marcus did not want Henry to know the earrings were a gift from him.
He’d already asked in Garrard’s once before, but they’d denied the earring was their work. He surmised that Marcus was such a good customer they could have protected his privacy if he’d demanded it of them.
His heart felt heavy in his chest. He could be doing his best friend a huge disservice by seeking the truth. But his future happiness was at stake.
With grim determination Henry entered the exclusive store. He presented his card and was soon being fawned over. However, as luck would have it, it was not the same man who he’d question previously.
“I’m looking for a pair of earrings for my mistress. Something that screams money. I’m not in her good books at present.” Best not to ask about emerald earrings immediately.
“Certainly, my lord. Do you have a stone in mind? Diamonds, sapphires...” the jeweller asked eyes speculating the amount he’d make today.
“Something large and expensive looking is the requirement.”
“Quite. Perhaps a pair of oval cushion sapphires with diamonds set in white gold.”
Here was his opening. “They are beautiful. Her eyes are green. Would emeralds be preferable?”
“Very observant, your lordship. We can make w
hatever design you wish.”
“I have no idea what she’d like.”
Here it comes...
“If you don’t mind me asking, sir, has she admired any other woman’s jewels of late?”
He pretended to think. “I don’t really pay that much attention.” He paused and stroked his chin. “However, I did hear her and some of her friends gushing over a pair of earrings Lady Shipton was wearing at the opera the other night. I couldn’t even begin to describe them though.”
The man beamed. “No need. I know the exact pair. I designed them especially for the young lady.”
“A present for her come out no doubt. From her father.”
The man leaned in conspiratorially. “Oh no. They were commissioned by the Marquis of Wolverstone.”
“No doubt before he married. There was a rumor the Marquis was thinking of offering for the young lady.”
The man was busy sketching a picture of the very earring burning hot as hell in Henry’s pocket. “No. I was commissioned to design them recently.”
A cold fury engulfed him. Why would Marcus give Amy Shipton a pair of earrings and not want him or anyone to know? Not just anyone, him, Henry St. Giles, his best friend. He’d showed Marcus the earring and yet his friend denied knowing the identity. Why? What game was Marcus playing?
For surely it was a game. He could not possibly be unfaithful to the wife he adored and worshiped. Nor would Marcus risk Amy’s reputation.
Would he?
Prior to Sabine’s return, Marcus was known to be cold and ruthless when it came to women. Sabine ripped his heart to shreds and he’d gone a little crazy when she’d left. He fortified his heart and proceeded to never get romantically involved. He loved and left and broken many a woman’s heart in the process with little care.
The image of Amy in Marcus’s arms stirred in his gut. At first he was prepared to give Marcus the doubt. Obviously Amy had been upset about something, but Marcus blatantly lied to his face. Told him he’d not seen Amy that evening.
And he’d lied about the earring.
His heart heavy with painful doubts about the honor and integrity of his friend, he walked out of the store.
He owed it to his friend to give him the benefit of doubt. He ordered his coach back to Cravenswood Court. He needed to get back to the house party in Berkshire and speak with Marcus.
#
His chat with Marcus was delayed when, upon his return, he learned the hosts and their guests had driven to Reading for a day of shopping and museums.
It was nearing dusk and Henry was impatient for Marcus’s return. He lurked near the stables and was feeding Hercules a carrot when he heard feminine voices over the tall hedge at the side of the stables.
He sauntered nearer, boredom driving his ill-mannered eavesdropping. He couldn’t see into the garden as the hedge was well above his head, but to his surprise and good fortune, he recognized one of the voices—Amy. Although what he heard made his blood run cold.
“Lorraine, I can’t... I can’t risk it.”
“But he’s so incredibly handsome. I’d risk anything for a night in his arms. Any-thing!”
“That’s because you’re my ladies maid and as such you don’t have Society’s expectations on your shoulders. The consequences should I be caught would be very high. You know what will happen to my reputation. I couldn’t bear that.” Henry could almost feel her shudder from where he was hiding behind the hedge.
“But don’t you wish you could have one perfect night with the man you loved before you buckle under and do your duty? One night to cherish forever, before you sell yourself for duty and elevated social position.”
He heard Amy give a small sob. “I don’t think I can do my duty. The thought of a loveless life is too horrific to contemplate.” The silence spoke volumes, her distress palpable.
“Then why not go to him?”
“Because I can’t marry him,” Amy cried. “He loves another.”
“Then I’d stop drawing these indecent sketches. If anyone finds them they’ll think the worst anyway. He’s naked. Completely naked.”
Amy sighed. “That’s simply my imagination. I’ve only ever seen him with his shirt off.”
“Oh la la, you have a very vivid imagination. If anyone else sees these,” he heard paper rustle, “they won’t believe it’s your imagination, my girl.”
More shuffling of paper and the rustle of items being collected. He heard them as they began to move away toward the house.
“Then they shall remain hidden in my room, away from prying eyes. You can forget...”
Blast, he couldn’t hear more. Henry stumbled back, the hard stones of the stable wall merging with his body to form a fortress around his heart. Amy was in love—with Marcus. It could only be Marcus. ‘I can’t marry him.’ True Marcus was already married. ‘He’s in love with another.’ There was no doubt Marcus loved Sabine. Or did he? From what he’d seen last night Marcus wasn’t exactly discouraging Amy.
If he recalled, last year it was Amy who rejected Marcus. Perhaps Marcus would have preferred to marry Amy, given she was the duke’s daughter. He could have kept Sabine as his mistress and enjoyed both women.
Anger flickered and erupted deep in his soul. He didn’t blame Amy. Very few women could resist Marcus’s charm. He’d watched him in action hundreds of times.
Right now he wished he had something to hit. Marcus’s face would do nicely. He clenched his fists tight. Their chat was long overdue...If not for Sabine he’d call Marcus out.
There was only one thing he could do. Marry Amy and ensure Sabine never learned of her husband’s betrayal. She’d been through enough already.
His heart felt heavy in his chest and his soul frozen with disappointment. Dreams of being happily married dissolved. But by Jove once they married he’d forbid Amy to ever see Marcus or Sabine again.
But first he had to destroy the evidence. Those sketches could never see the light of day. It would devastate Sabine, and after everything she’d been through she deserved better.
#
Henry took a deep breath before entering the drawing room and joining the guests before dinner. His eye immediately found Amy deep in conversation with Caitlin. He scanned the room and found Marcus on his own at the sideboard pouring himself a brandy. He crossed to his side.
“A word with you if I may.”
“Only one? How unlike you, Henry. What have I done now? You’re wearing your saintly frown.”
Henry bit back his annoyance at Marcus’s comment. Right now he felt anything but saintly. He wanted to smash his curled fist into Marcus’s smug face.
“What the hell are you up to?” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’m pouring myself a brandy. Shall I pour one for you? You sound as though you need one. Was the estate business worse than predicted?”
He looked around the room. No one appeared to be paying them any attention. “I know what you’re up to. I saw you.”
Marcus handed him a glass of brandy and frowned, “I don’t follow, old chap.”
“You were in the stable the other night. With Amy.”
A slow, smirk of a smile shaped Marcus’s lips. “How do you know that?”
Henry took a step back. He’d walked right into that. “I was looking for you.”
He chortled. “You didn’t find me.”
Henry clenched his fist around his glass. Don’t let him make you lose your temper. “I know that. Odd time of night to be meeting a young lady in your stables. In her nightdress...”
“Oh, that. She’d had a missive from her father that she begged my help with. You know my father and hers were close.”
“And she had to discuss it with you? Alone? In the stable? So late at night?”
“I’ve been advising her.”
I bet you have, bastard. “About what?”
“I’m not sure I can share her confidences.”
“I wonder what Sabine would think about you sharing—confi
dences—with Amy.”
Marcus’s countenance abruptly changed. The glass banged down on the side board. “What the bloody hell does that mean? It better not mean what I think you’re implying or I’ll knock your teeth down your saintly throat.”
“Why so defensive? Do you have something to hide? I saw her in your arms a few nights ago too.”
Marcus looked over his shoulder. “I was comforting her. Her father is forcing a match with Chesterton, whom she hates. I suggested she work on the Comte.” He nodded his head in a direction over his shoulder. Amy was smiling gaily at the Frenchman. Henry wanted to knock his teeth down his throat too.
“Whatever is wrong with you? How could you imply...”
“Don’t make light of this. I know you gave her the earrings.”
Marcus’s gaze turned to cold fury. “As a gift for helping aid Sabine.”
That held the ring of truth. Doubt crept in again. Then he steeled himself. “I heard her talking this afternoon. Amy’s seen you with your shirt off. Explain how an innocent young lady of quality has seen you in a state of undress,” Henry hissed through clenched teeth.
Before Marcus could respond, Sabine arrived at his side. “What are you two scoundrels up to? Marcus, have you been teasing Henry again? He looks as if he’d like to snap you in half.”
Marcus flashed a warning glance at him. “Henry was being a bore. It would appear he’s let the green-eyed monster ruin his evening.”
The fact that Sabine automatically looked at Amy silenced Henry. What had Marcus told her? “Stop pouting, Henry.” She slipped her arm through his and led him across the room to where Amy sat engrossed in her Comte. “Amy is going to play for us tonight. Would you like to turn the music for her?”
Henry couldn’t face her. He couldn’t sit and converse with a woman who was playing her supposed friend false. Worse, Sabine didn’t deserve this. From either of them. If she learned of their betrayal, after everything she’d been through and survived, it would destroy her.
Henry thought about the sketches. “I’d be honored, but I’m feeling a bit under the weather tonight. My ride to London has left me with a terrible head. Would you think it rude if I retired for the evening?”
To Challenge the Earl of Cravenswood (Wicked Wagers 3) Page 9
