“You are entitled to the income from your estate, as I just explained to you, my lady,” the man had replied insolently. “The first installment has already been deposited with your husband’s man of business. As a married woman, you must apply to your husband for the use of those funds. The trust does not allow your husband to control your estate, but the law expressly provides that a woman’s income belongs to her husband. A woman cannot be expected to deal in such matters herself. Now, if I have answered your questions, Lady Aubree. . .”
He had dismissed her as if she were no more than a child. His attitude had rankled, but Heath’s betrayal had nearly destroyed her. No wonder he had seen to it that there was no means for an annulment and had made no mention of a divorce! He had all the funds he needed to do with as he wished. Why should he rid himself of so lucrative an investment! And without funds, she could not seek the divorce herself. She could do nothing.
Aubree stared at the tapping quill as if she had no control over it. She still could not believe she had been so deceived. She was a prisoner of her father’s whim while Heath made free with what was hers alone, and all because she had been fool enough to believe his loving lies. No, that was wrong. He never spoke a word of love. She had been the one who had thought such a thing existed. She slammed the pen down and stalked out of the room.
The Sotheby sisters exchanged glances. They had accepted Aubree’s invitation with excitement and gratitude, but they had come to understand she had offered it in desperation that they did not understand.
Anna shook her head. “I cannot believe Harley has the whole story. If his lordship feared Eversly’s return, Aubree would understand that. That does not explain why she is so terribly unhappy. It is not natural,” she announced.
“Perhaps Heathmont is mad like the hero of that novel we read last week, and he sends her away for her own safety.” Maria had concocted any number of other romantic theories, but this was her particular favorite.
Anna made a wry grimace. “Well, I intend to write the madman’s mother and tell her Aubree is none too sane, either, and her safety is endangered more by her own hands than any other’s. I have never seen her like this. And she will not talk to me or anyone else. It is most worrisome.”
Maria grew serious. “You will not really tell Lady Heathmont that, will you? I am certain she did not expect such intimacies when she requested that you write.”
“On the contrary”—Anna set her lips—”I believe that is just exactly what she had in mind.”
Adrian paced the study floor, whacking at dust motes with his riding crop. “I daresay I must be as mad as you, Heath, I cannot find any fault with the plan. Emily would have hysterics. I’m a married man now, a figure of responsibility. I shouldn’t be indulging in any more theatrical escapades like this. But, by Jupiter, I want to do it!” He lifted his lean face to display a wolfish grin. “I owe myself this opportunity to thumb my nose at the English navy. You say she’s schooner-rigged? How does she set in the water?”
“Like a babe. She’ll have you home by the new year. I should never have told you of this. Emily will never forgive me.” Heath stared out the dirty window to the still-green swath of lawn. The trees had lost their foliage, but the frost had not yet done its final damage to the summer. He imagined a slender figure garbed in white muslin running down that grassy hillside, her hat ribbons flying over a golden river of curls, her eyes laughing. The pain of that image struck him worse than the fading ache in his knee.
“Emily will never forgive your sending Aubree away. She is so furious she will barely speak to me when I try to explain. If she thought Aubree would welcome her, I believe she would be off to London tomorrow. As it is, she has nowhere to go once she arrives. If I don’t do something to bring back your wife, I may well lose my own.” Adrian dropped into the cracked leather chair.
“I can steal the ship,” Heath drawled. “There is no guarantee I can steal Aubree back. There is no guarantee I will even be able to find her once I am free to look. She has access to a fortune large enough to build a kingdom of her own on the other end of the world.”
“Shades of Lady Stanhope! I cannot believe she is quite that mad, in any sense of the word. Didn’t young Harley say his sisters went to stay with her?”
Heath shrugged. “I cannot imagine Aubree chaperoning two country sisters about society without some reason. She’s still so green it is painful to watch. Emery and Harley will have to look after her every minute.”
“You do mean to fetch her back, don’t you?” Adrian asked with concern.
Heath stood silently for a long moment before answering. When the words came, they echoed as if from the bottom of some deep well. “What are the chances of a convicted felon and murderer of asking a duke’s daughter to marry him?”
Chapter 32
Garbed in a hunter’s-green riding habit, her hair simply styled a I’anglaise, Aubree descended to the downstairs hall to greet Harley. His gray eyes warmed with appreciation as she approached.
“With your hair down like that, you look no older than a schoolgirl,” he jested.
Aubree did not respond with enthusiasm. His words jarred a discordant note in an already bad fugue that had been her morning. Being a countess at seventeen apparently did not add to her standing.
“Thank you, sir,” she replied. “Shall you tell me next to return to my schoolbooks? I am certain you and Emery would be much more comfortable if I were back in the schoolroom.”
Harley had the grace to look uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Aubree. I didn’t mean. . .”
His apologies were interrupted by the clatter of his sisters rushing down the stairs to greet them. “Aubree! You mean to accompany us riding, after all,” Maria exclaimed.
But Aubree had just been blessed with an idea of blazing proportions, its dimensions so many-sided that she wanted to enjoy the moment by herself. With the first spontaneous smile she had managed in weeks, she declined the invitation.
“No, Emery will be along shortly. Perhaps we will see you a little later,” she lied, dismissing them.
She took little time considering the pros and cons of her decision. This was something she had wanted to do for a long time, but never possessed the daring. She had all the courage of fury behind her now, and the delight of revenge, and no one to account to at the result. When all other outlets of freedom were denied to her, she must take advantage of the few remaining.
Remembering the name of the modiste Lady Caroline had dropped at a tea one day, Aubree penned a note and called for a footman. When he left on his errand, she bounded up the stairs to change back into her day dress. She prayed there would be no delay in response, her time was restricted by the demands of her schedule.
Obviously, the modiste understood the demands of nobility. She responded to the Duke of Ashbrook’s daughter immediately.
Mattie screamed in horror as the modiste’s hairdresser brought out her combs and scissors and laid them upon the vanity. “My lady, no! Not your beautiful curls! You cannot! Please, my lady.”
Aubree sat determinedly before the mirror and began pulling out the irritating pins and bows that held her unruly hair in place. “You must watch, Mattie, and learn to do as Mademoiselle Francine does. I will need you to keep it trimmed when we are not in London.”
Mattie watched with tears in her eyes as the golden curls fell to the floor.
When the hairdresser had packed her scissors and left, Aubree stared at the shorn image in her mirror. Style demanded Grecian simplicity. Lady Caroline had gone to extremes, as usual, by cutting her hair to nearly resemble a man’s. But the stylist had created a more artistic coiffure for Aubree. Golden curls hung in ringlets about her ears and at the nape of her neck and waved luxuriously at the crown of her head. Aubree felt as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She loved it.
As her maid tearfully tied a blue ribbon about the fallen tresses, Aubree ordered, “Find a box for them, Mattie.”
Wiping h
er eyes, the maid did so and watched in astonishment as Aubree packaged the curls beneath sheets of tissue. She tied the parcel with ribbons and penned Atwood Abbey’s direction on it. She handed it to a footman and ordered it taken on the next mail coach. With satisfaction, she contemplated Heath’s reaction. She might be wrong about his character, but she felt confident he had sufficient intelligence to understand her symbol of defiance. She was her own woman now and would act accordingly.
Deep inside, she hoped it would hurt him as much as he had hurt her, but practicality told her that would not be possible. A man with a heart as hard as his could feel no pain, only the prickle of pride upon occasion. Mayhap she would prick his pride.
When the Sotheby sisters returned from their ride, they were aghast at, but after the first shock, they grudgingly admitted the style was most becoming. On Lady Caroline, the style had contrived to make her look more boyish. On Aubree, that was an impossibility. It suited her lively personality and carefree outlook, or the personality and outlook she had possessed prior to returning to London.
The fete at Lady Bessborough’s proved amusing. The masculine company thought Aubree’s daring coiffure without flaw, while the feminine company whispered about her missing husband.
Aubree was less impressed with the Corinthians who hovered about her than they were with themselves, and she drew the limit on the amount of time she wasted on them. She preferred introducing her guests to the more eligible bachelors in attendance.
Toward the end of a tiring evening, Aubree discovered herself in the company of one of her father’s acquaintances. Though nearing two score years of age, Lord Killarnon was still a fine figure of a man. He bent gallantly over Aubree’s hand and smiled at her hesitation.
“Killarnon, Lady Aubree. I do not expect you to recall all the names that have crossed your father’s portals. It is most pleasant to see you among society at last. How is your father?”
Relieved that she did not have to grope for coy or witty answers, Aubree offered honesty. “Meddling, as usual, my lord. The uproar the Luddites have caused in Nottingham has sent him galloping northward. He would do better to bring them here. I can think of better things to destroy than looms.”
Killarnon laughed. “I dare not venture to ask what those things might be, or like your father, you will tell me in no uncertain terms. It is a pleasure to hear a woman who speaks of other than ribbons and beaus. I do not suppose I would be so fortunate as to claim a dance from you before the evening ends?”
Since she was most obviously sitting out this one, he had every right to ask, but as he reached to study her card, Aubree shook her head. “I am sorry, but they are all taken.”
He looked at her in surprise. “There is one last waltz unaccounted for. Do you expect someone?”
Aubree smiled at his reaction to this small blow to his conceit. “No, my lord, my waltzes are reserved for my husband, who unfortunately is not here. I prefer to spend that time in conversing. You are welcome to join me in that occupation if you wish.”
She had practiced this line enough to have polished it to perfection. The reference to her husband made the young bloods more cautious and gave her breathing room. They did not necessarily consider a married woman beyond approach, but their tactics of pursuit changed. Tomorrow, they would retire to their clubs and make certain of Heath’s whereabouts before approaching her more discreetly. It was a silly game, in Aubree’s opinion, but it gave her the opportunity to appreciate those few who joined her in conversation and friendship.
Killarnon smiled in approval. “That is the most refreshing comment I have heard this night. May I join you?”
Engrossed in his entertaining characterization of her father’s colleagues, Aubree looked up in surprise when Anna and Maria returned to her side. Introductions were made, and Killarnon bowed over farewells when the next set began.
“You will be at Almack’s Wednesday?” he inquired before Aubree departed with her partner for the country dance.
“If Lady Jersey will be so kind as to offer introductions for my guests.” Aubree nodded toward the Sotheby sisters, who were being carried off by two elegantly clad gentlemen.
Killarnon’s lips bent into that charming smile she had noted earlier. “I shall be there early enough to claim a dance then.”
He disappeared into the crowd, leaving Aubree to follow her escort onto the dance floor and wonder if that were an optimistic remark or a promise. Moving in the Duke of Ashbrook’s circle, Lord Killarnon had the power to ensure anyone’s entrance into Almack’s. But her father had never lowered himself to the level of concerning his time over such trivialities. She could not believe a mere acquaintance would trouble himself in such a manner.
Whatever the reason, the Sothebys received their highly prized cards at the beginning of the following week. Maria shrieked in ecstasy and Anna gazed upon the invitation with gratification. It was akin to receiving a school report praising one’s accomplishments. Anna and Maria had passed all exams without fail. They could not help but feel delight.
“This never would have happened without your assistance, Aubree,” Anna murmured.
Aubree frowned, remembering her brief conversation with her father’s friend. “Do not be so certain of that. I am not high on Lady Jersey’s books, although she cannot afford to offend me. But Lord Killarnon, now. . .” She eyed Anna speculatively. “If he has taken some interest in you, you can be certain red carpets will fall at your feet.”
“Lord Killarnon? We have only just met the gentleman, and he has certainly shown me no preference,” Anna answered in puzzlement.
“He is a lifelong bachelor. You cannot expect him to act other than cautiously. He is a trifle older than I would normally consider desirable, but he is an intelligent man who appreciates women with minds.” Aubree considered the possibilities. “A man like that has no need for women with wealth or title. He can search for one who pleases him. I see no reason why you cannot be that woman.”
Anna looked alarmed, but common sense prevailed. “I can see many reasons, but we shall see. I will not deny that he is an attractive man.”
Satisfied that she had opened Anna’s mind to the suggestion, Aubree slid back into her doldrums. She had received no response to her package to Heath. Perhaps he had set her so far from mind that he could not even remember the color of her hair. A letter arrived from Lady Heathmont, a cozy, chatty letter speaking of the new stables and the changes being made to the abbey now that winter had arrived and Heath had more time to turn to it. And more money, Aubree added bitterly. She burned the letter.
As soon as they arrived at Almack’s, Killarnon worked his way through the crowd to greet them. Aubree avoided an offer for weak punch and greeted Killarnon with a smile. “My lord, I cannot believe you find time from your pressing duties to attend these functions.”
He bowed over her hand and retained possession of it as he smiled into her eyes. “The Season is almost ended, and there are very few opportunities left to obtain that dance you promised. You will allow me?”
Pleased at this attention from one of her father’s friends, she agreed, then opened the way for Anna. “You will help me introduce Miss Sotheby and Maria, won’t you? I am quite terrible at names and I fear I will embarrass them terribly.”
He agreed, signing both their dance cards and waylaying several younger members of his club to offer for dances. The evening was off to an excellent start.
Aubree called the evening a success by the time they rode the carriage back to Ashbrook House. Anna and Maria had proved popular, and Killarnon had kept Aubree entertained with his talk of politics and society. He could not, of course, offer more than two dances to Miss Sotheby, but his attention seldom diverted from the chairs where Aubree and her friends kept court.
Though she knew her success, Aubree could not wring happiness from it. She was lonesome, homesick, and bored, and no amount of frivolity would lighten her humor. She refused to contemplate the cause of this disenchantment. Sh
e must look to the future and and design what she could of it. Her problem was that she could find no future.
A letter came from the duke announcing his intention to leave Nottinghamshire and go directly to Castle Ashbrook, where he expected his family to meet him. Aubree consigned this missive to the fire also. She would sit in London alone before she returned to that place where she and Heath had wed.
They followed the slowing swirl of social functions, meeting Lord Killarnon frequently. He could coax a laugh from Aubree when no other could, and she began to anticipate his company, although Anna displayed no interest in him.
Emery arrived at the end of November, announcing Peggy now felt well enough to travel, and they would be removing to the castle on the following week. Aubree ordered a footman to fetch the gaily wrapped parcels she had purchased for her relations.
When presented with the bundle, Emery appeared bemused. “I can pack them in our trunks, of course, but would they not go better in the baggage wagon? Mattie could see to them along with your other things.”
“Mattie and I are not going with you.” Aubree settled into her favorite chair and picked up her needlework as if she had not just dropped a bombshell.
“Who are you going with?” Emery asked, still puzzled. “I thought Anna and Maria preferred to return to their home for the winter.”
Aubree gazed at him in exasperation. “Aunt Clara will not be at the castle, will she?”
“No, now she has no reason to leave Southridge, she prefers to stay there. But your father is expecting you at his home, Aubree. You cannot disappoint him. He is ill, if you have not noticed.”
“He was not so ill that he did not go riding off to Nottingham at the first hint of revolution. If he can ride there, he can ride to Southridge if he desires to see me. I cannot offer anything so exciting as a riot, perhaps, but I will be there. Don’t talk to me of disappointment, Emery. How many Christmases have I spent in that dreary place waiting for the festivities to begin? And how many Christmases has my father whisked in the day before, kissed us all on the cheek, and disappeared again the day after? Castle Ashbrook will be yours one day, Emery, not mine. I want no part of it. Lexa and Everett are getting married and they beg my attendance. I will go where I am wanted.”
Indigo Moon Page 31
