“You need ask?” the duke roared, staring at him with incredulity. He gave the cracked leather of the fireside chair a dark look and remained standing.
“I can think of nothing I have done that you did not already know about. I believe at the time that I made it devilishly clear that I could not offer Aubree the comforts to which she is accustomed, nor the society. I painted my case in quite bold colors, I believe.” His leg ached, but while the duke remained standing, he could not sit.
The duke snorted. After inspecting the other poor specimens of furniture the room had to offer, he chose Heath’s desk chair, leaving Heath to sit on the couch with his game leg sprawled across the mottled upholstery.
“I figured you had some damned-fool notion about not using Aubree’s income, that is why I settled a sizable dowry upon you. What in hell have you been using it for if not to make this moldering ruin more comfortable for her?” the duke asked indignantly. “The damned rumors never bothered me if they didn’t bother Aubree, but there’s no end on them. What is this business of your murdering one of your housemaids? That is taking it a bit too far.”
“If you give me time, I will explain, but I see no need to call Aubree into this. The argument is between us, and she will only be hurt if she is made to stand in the middle.”
“She will be standing in her own room in Ashbrook House within the week! Admittedly, I would like to hear explanations of why you betrayed my trust, but no explanation will satisfy this.” The duke jerked a packet of papers from his coat and slammed them down upon the desk.
As Heath lowered his aching leg to the floor so he might reach for the packet, Ashbrook waved at him impatiently. “You need not read them now, I’ll tell you what they are. They are warrants for your arrest on charges of smuggling. Would you care to explain those away?”
Heath leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes against the throbbing pain. There did not seem much point in arguing.
He had known since last night that something must have gone amiss. He suspected Eversly had his hand in this new disaster, too, but he had only himself to blame. He had been in a hurry to replenish his fortune, and he had taken risks he should not have taken. They had seemed justified at the time, when he had only himself and his land at stake. He had not meant for Aubree to become involved until he had established himself. Now the risk loomed enormous and unforgivable.
“Where is the ship and the captain?” Heath inquired.
“The ship is impounded at Exeter. The captain’s been taken to London for questioning. He held out as long as he could, but without a battery of barristers to protect him, he was forced to reveal your name. Not very sporting to let the man suffer on his own,” the duke growled.
“I knew nothing of his capture.” Heath thought of the letters that had accumulated during his illness and wondered what other bits of disaster had been lost to him. It was too late to worry now. “I have a buyer for some of my land. I will see the man defended.”
“Hmph.” The duke leaned back in his chair and glared at him. “I daresay he can afford to defend himself once you find where he’s hid your gold. The ship and the goods for the return journey are on board, but naught was found of the proceeds from the first sale. I daresay the profit was considerably higher than the investment on board.”
Considerably, but the knowledge weighed little against the packet of papers on the desk. Consorting with the enemy was a hanging offense. He might get off with transportation to the Australian colonies. Did they send lords of the realm there? Or perhaps he would just molder in the Tower for the remainder of his life. Heath reflected on his fate with black humor. None of them left room for the dream he had so recently allowed to grow.
“I would rather Aubree did not know until she is safely away from here.” He tried to think how best to break the news to her, but his mind refused to function. He kept seeing her enormous green eyes watching him in bewilderment and hurt, and he could not make them go away.
“I had no intention of informing her of my poor judgment in men. Stay away from her, and those writs will go no farther than my pocket. I had hoped to see her well-protected before I die, but I can see I must rely on family for that. My brother is an indolent fool and his son is a dreamer, but between them, they should be able to keep her content. I should never have been fool enough to wish her happy.”
Heath opened his eyes and studied the once-proud duke. “You thought to make her happy by forcing her to marry me?”
The duke shrugged uncomfortably. “I introduced her to all the men I had chosen for her, and she could scarcely remember their names when I asked her of them. I couldn’t have her pining after a country squire or a damned court card. She seemed to favor you, for God knows what reason. My men could find no truth in the rumors about you. You came highly recommended by men I respect. I knew you would never offer for her, and after the scandal the two of you created, I could persuade none of the men I preferred to marry her. You left me with little choice.
“I regret it now. I am not dying so rapidly as the physicians hoped. There might have been more time to allow her to grow up, to find a more suitable match. It’s too late for that. Just stay away from her, and I’ll see to her care.”
“If the physicians give you so little hope, that will be difficult to do,” Heath replied sourly. “And you forget, I am her husband. I cannot wish her married to a felon, but neither can I wish her any of half a dozen other fates. I will keep my distance if that is the penalty I must pay, but only so long as I think her safe and happy.”
Even that might be a difficult feat; Heath almost preferred swift death or imprisonment to the thought of Aubree just within his grasp but out of his reach. But Aubree’s future must come first. A husband and wife who did not live together was not an odd circumstance in their circles, and preferable to the first scheme she had offered of annulment or divorce.
A knock upon the door prevented any further comment on the dubious wisdom of Heath’s warning. The duke barked a command, and the door swung open to reveal his daughter’s slender form. Jade eyes fixed upon her father immediately. Her golden hair caught a sunbeam, and her delicate sprigged-muslin gown set off her rich coloring to perfection. The green ribbon of her bodice picked up the colors of her eyes and the small jade pins she had affixed to her curls. But it was the serenity with which she gazed upon them that severely rattled the duke’s composure, Heath noticed.
His wife had become a self-confident woman in her father’s absence, Heath noted with pride.
“Father, what brings you here?” Aubree closed the door behind her. “Has Peggy had the baby? She is well, isn’t she?”
“I have just come from there. It’s a boy, and Emery’s crowing as if he were the first father to have a son. Peggy’s a bit frail, if you can imagine that. I’m to take you back with me.”
Heath had risen at Aubree’s entrance. He offered her a chair near the desk. She declined it by grasping his hand and standing beside him.
“Heath, will you be well enough for such a trip?” she asked, probing for the truth by studying his expression.
Caught by her knowing gaze, he had difficulty finding his tongue, knowing he had reached for the sun and melted his wings. In disentangling their hands, he was plunging to the ground. He returned to his seat upon the couch, sprawling his leg across the cushion to prevent her from joining him.
“I cannot go, Aubree. There is too much to do here. You will want to see Peggy and the baby, and the Little Season is in full swing. You need to go and enjoy yourself. Didn’t you promise the Sotheby sisters a trip to London?”
He was grateful for that last thought. The Sothebys were eminently practical young ladies and would keep Aubree on an even keel and well-occupied for a while. And they might write and tell him how she fared upon occasion. He could ask for no more than that.
Aubree’s gaze grew mutinous, but she saved her wrath for her father. “How soon will you return me here if I go with you?” The edge in her vo
ice revealed her scorn.
The duke kept his voice neutral. “Peggy needs your company. Your Aunt Clara misses you. The holidays will be here shortly and you will wish to be with your family. Do not press me for dates.”
Aubree leaned her hands on the desk and spoke with the wrath of the gods. “Do not give me your faradiddle! I will visit Peggy and pay my respects to Aunt Clara, but I am a married woman now, and my place is with my husband. If he cannot come with me, I will go to him, and you cannot prevent me.”
Heath rose and closed his hands upon her arms, drawing her back from the desk. She turned a look of hope and fear on him, but the light died in her eyes as she read his expression.
“You will do as your father tells you, Aubree. I cannot keep you any longer. My ship is lost, and I will be selling the abbey to repay my debts. It is better this way.”
Her beautiful eyes clouded with tears, and her fingers clenched into fists as she searched his face for truth. Heath had practiced his impenetrable mask for years. She had no chance of penetrating to his heart. Her tears spilled over and her fists went limp.
“You bastard,” she said, still staring at him. “Do you really think it is money I want from you? Have you that little thought for me?”
Heath dropped her arms and walked away. “You are too damned young, Aubree,” he answered callously. “Go back to your father’s house and your pets where you belong.”
Her voice shook as she replied. “You’re no better than he is, after all. You don’t want me to come too close, to interfere with your life, to stand in your way. Well, damn you to your own bloody hell, my Lord Heathmont. I’ll not ask for your company again.” Tears streamed down her face as she strode out, but her shoulders were straight and her back rigid as the door slammed behind her.
Heath continued staring out the murky window to the unseen landscape below.
BOOK THREE
* * *
Absence diminishes commonplace passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and kindles fire.
—Due de La Rochefoucauld, “Reflexions, ou Sentences et Maximes Morales”
Chapter 31
Aubree sat in the weak sunlight of Ashbrook House’s front salon, meticulously opening stacks of invitations with her gilded letter opener. The heavy linen paper and vellum crackled as she inspected each notice and set it in one stack or another.
Near the warmth of the fire, her companions occupied themselves with poetry and embroidery until the afternoon round of visits began. Appearing for all the world as London fashion plates instead of the country girls they had arrived as, Anna and Maria still retained their abilities to amuse themselves rather than waiting for others to amuse them. They awaited Aubree’s decisions on the morning’s post.
Aubree’s cry of satisfaction brought them to attention.
“Lady Jersey invites us to tea! She wishes to make your acquaintance. You have caught the attention of the haut ton, ladies, and soon the world will be yours for the taking.” If her inflection contained a hint of sarcasm, Aubree was sincere in her happiness for her guests. She had been uncertain of her ability to carry out the maneuvers necessary to conquer fashionable London, but she was not her father’s daughter for nothing.
Anna smiled at this news, but Maria moaned in despair.
“Lady Jersey! I shall disgrace myself, I know it. I shall drop my scone in my tea and splash the Duchess of Somewhere or the Other. Or spill jam upon Princess Charlotte. We shall have to hide our faces in Devon for eternity,” Maria wailed.
Aubree laughed. “She undoubtedly will expect nothing less from guests of mine. I was invited there the first week I came up from Hampshire. I informed the entire company of my very latest discovery, that my pet guinea pigs were male and female and were about to have babies. I told them how I discovered it, too.”
Anna choked on a comfit she had just bit into, and Maria fell into a fit of the giggles.
“You did not!” she cried. “And what did Lady Jersey have to say to that?”
Aubree helped herself to one of the candies. “As I recall, after she persuaded Aunt Clara to crawl out from under the sofa, she thanked me for the informative lecture and asked if my father were returning to London any time soon.”
Both girls choked with laughter. Satisfied that she had dispelled all anxieties, Aubree returned to her battle plans. Even the fall season required a masterful grasp of military tactics, from provisioning the troops to leading an attack into the war zone. She had little experience, but a strategic turn of mind and a title. The inquiries about her husband and marriage had been overwhelming at first, until she had learned to maneuver her limited weapons. She had more confidence in her ability to field insulting questions now.
An invitation to a fete at Lady Bessborough’s seemed the ideal opportunity to introduce the Sotheby sisters to a large number of unattached males. They had resided quietly these last weeks, refurbishing wardrobes and easing into society’s momentum with afternoon teas and morning calls and occasional rides in the park. The November weather had turned wicked, however, and the end of the Season would come soon. They would fit in what they could before the Sothebys returned home for Christmas, and be a step ahead of the debutantes when they returned in the spring.
After Aubree announced these plans, even the placid Anna contrived to appear anxious.
“We shall not suit, Aubree. We are nobodies and cannot change that fact as we have our gowns. It has been pleasant seeing sights we have only heard about and moving in circles that would never have been open to us without you, but we are only daughters of a merchant, and not particularly young or attractive daughters, either.”
Aubree looked at her friend in astonishment. True, Anna Sotheby would be twenty-five within the month, which made her a spinster, but Aubree could not apply the word “unattractive” to her. Her carroty-red hair was not fashionable, perhaps, but her large, wide-spaced gray eyes were set off by fine, high cheekbones and softened by a lovely smile. And Maria was but twenty-two, and though not a diamond of the first water, her features reflected her lively friendliness, and her strawberry-blond hair was a jewel to behold. Aubree shook her head in denial of Anna’s protests.
“Utter fustian!” she announced. “Heath has told me your mother’s family dates back to the very beginnings of history. If they have fallen on hard times recently, it is through no fault of your own. Harley is accepted in all circles, why should you not be? Besides, once it is known you come accompanied with large dowries, you may have your pick among titles. Wealth is ever more important than beauty or family.” This time her sarcasm shone through, but her companions showed no shock.
“Harley went to school with his acquaintances,” Anna reminded her. “It is easy for him. I cannot be convinced I will accomplish more than adorning the woodwork. I am not certain I could bear the humiliation.”
“Coward!” Maria flung at her. “I shall certainly take my chances. I cannot think there is nothing more for me in life than riding about the fields of Devon and tatting shawls in front of the fire. Perhaps there is some short, balding man who will not care if I have freckles or come from merchant stock. We can live merrily in Scotland and visit Italy when the war is over and I shall be content. All society cannot be grand like Lord Heathmont and Harley, or miserable like Geoffrey and Eversly. There must be some in between.”
Aubree allowed the sisters to carry on the argument between themselves. The mention of Heath’s name twisted a knife in her heart. She would have been content to ride the fields of Devon and sit beside the fire for the rest of her life if only her husband could have accompanied her. She had been a fool to think it was enough for him.
She tapped her quill against the ink pot and wished for the words to draw her wrath on paper, but all previous attempts had failed. She had not quite believed it when her father had carried her off without a word of protest from Heath, but she understood it now. Her fury still kindled at his treachery. She was obviously no judge of characte
r.
She had never intended to stay in London. In her anger and self-pity, she had followed her father as commanded, but even on that tedious journey, plans for rebellion had formed. She was eighteen and an heiress. She had the wealth to do whatsoever she wished without depending on anyone. And she detested London.
Her revolt was put down on the first day her father had left her unattended. She had cooed over the third in line to the duke’s title, idled away the hours with Peggy discussing the baby’s feeding habits, all the while seething with the frustration of captivity. The baby was adorable. Peggy was her best friend. Even Emery had come down off his high cloud to greet her with happiness. But misery ate at Aubree. She wanted a home and family of her own, and if she could not have one, she would have none other. And the moment she was given the freedom of a carriage, she struck out.
Aubree brushed at her tears as she remembered that day. The carriage had taken her directly to the solicitors who had so reliably deposited her quarterly allowance into the bank. She had had no word from them upon the occasion of her eighteenth birthday. She had meant to discover the extent of her wealth and how far it would carry her. Heath and her father would rue the day they had conspired to destroy her happiness.
She had met her mother’s man of business before and had not been overly impressed with his surly attitude or condescension. He had obviously thought it a streak of madness that had allowed such wealth to accumulate in the hands of mere women, and he had difficulty dealing with Aubree’s inquiries. He was no better than she remembered when she arrived that day.
Informed that the bulk of the estate was entailed and that only the income could be provided for her use, Aubree had demanded that a list of her investments and income be provided. She had then been informed that such information had been sent to her husband as the law required. As an unemancipated female, she could not be expected to approve decisions upon the investment of such sums. Furious, Aubree had demanded to know to just what she was entitled, and the lawyer handed her a blow she had not recovered from to this day.
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