by Sandra Heath
His shrewd, sharp eyes moved slowly over her, his lips curled disagreeably, and he did not offer her any civility, neither greeting her cordially nor asking her to be seated. They stood facing each other.
“Madam, I wish to make things abundantly clear to you from the outset. In your husband’s incapacity, I am legally the master here.”
“I am aware of that.”
“I’ll warrant you are. By God, madam, you astound me. You come here, no doubt expecting to be treated like a lady, and then you subject Miss Townsend and her mother to a quite appalling display of ill humor and vulgarity!”
Laura stiffened, not bothering to hide the loathing she felt for him.
“A lady!” he went on. “When it is quite obvious that that is the last thing you are.”
“And what do you mean by that remark?” she asked coldly, loathing him more and more with each passing second.
“I mean that your actions hitherto have hardly been those of a person of quality, have they? You brazenly contrived to marry a man who was believed to be on his deathbed, and who may yet die, simply to ensure for yourself the comforts of a wealthy life!”
“How dare you, you of all lamentable creatures, dare to point a finger at me when your own conduct is far more iniquitous! You made no secret of your delight when you heard that Nicholas was dead, which fact is a clear indication that you are a very base coin, sirrah! As to my conduct with Miss Townsend and her mother, all I can say is that when it comes to vulgarity, they leave me at the post! All three of you are the most despicable insects it has ever been my misfortune to encounter, for I swear that I did not believe anyone could be as low as you.”
“Hold your tongue!” he cried, his rage erupting viciously as he raised his hand to strike her.
She held her ground. “Strike me if you wish, for that would be further proof of your cowardly nature.”
His whole body trembled, gripped by powerful, barely controlled emotion, and his small eyes were very bright and dangerous, but he did not strike her; instead he vented his wrath upon a vase, sweeping it from the table so that it shattered against the shelves.
She was frightened, but she did not move or show that he had any effect upon her. Looking into his eyes at that moment, however, she knew that he was capable of sinking to any depth, of committing any crime in order to have what he wanted. She found herself wondering again what it was that he had done that so frightened Augustine and her mother now.
After a long, tense moment, he recovered, assuming his former arrogant stance. “This interview is at an end, madam. Remember only that although you bear my cousin’s name, as far as I am concerned, and as far as Miss Townsend and her mother are concerned, you have no rights at all.”
She said nothing, turning on her heel and leaving the library without a backward glance.
She had not reached Nicholas’s room before she found her way barred by Augustine. A cool smile touched the perfect lips. “I trust you enjoyed your interview, my lady.”
Laura did not deign to reply, she was so filled with disgust still after her encounter with James Grenville. She began to walk on.
Augustine’s yellow muslin gown hissed a little as she turned, and the ribbons moved against the shining red hair. “You cannot hope to succeed, you know; any plan you may have is doomed from the outset. I already know from Nicholas’s own tips that he doesn’t want you, that he wishes he had never, in a moment of great stress, taken you as his wife.”
Laura halted, hiding the pain that stabbed through her. “You seem certain that he will remain ignorant about you, Miss Townsend. It could be that you underestimate him.”
“It is you who underestimates me. I play my cards with great skill, I assure you, and I simply cannot lose with the excellent hand I have. If Nicholas survives, then he and this house are mine. If he dies, then there is the earl, who wants me so very much and who is also providentially Nicholas’s heir.”
“You are sure of the earl, are you?” asked Laura, not daring to be too clever, for that might convey to Augustine that she had maybe overheard something she should not.
“I am sure of my ability to gain whatever end I wish, whether it be your husband, or his cousin.”
“Are you not fearful that you may be overheard?”
“Who is there here but yourself, my lady? And of what consequence are you? None whatsoever. Good day, my lady.” With a swish of costly muslin, she continued on her way, leaving Laura to gaze after her.
Unbidden, Augustine’s taunting words returned. I already know from Nicholas’s own lips that he doesn’t want you, that he wishes he had never, in a moment of great stress, taken you as his wife…. She bit her lip, fighting back the tears. Let it not be true that he had said that, please let it not be true….
Slowly she walked on. What else could she in her heart expect, though? It was Augustine he loved, and it was Augustine he would want at his side. She hesitated at his door, dreading that she would see in his eyes that he had indeed said those words. Taking a deep breath then, she forced herself to go inside.
Daniel was inspecting the dressing on Nicholas’s arm. “I will endeavor to cause as little distress as possible,” he said, beginning to undo the bandage.
Nicholas nodded slightly, turning his head to look at Laura as she went to the bedside. She saw how he shivered still, but not as violently as before. His eyes were so very tired and dull, but although they bore witness to the great strain he had been under over the past weeks, she could read nothing else in them. Carefully, Daniel tried to remove the final portion of bandage, but he inevitably disturbed the wound so that Nicholas gasped as an excruciating pain washed over him, draining his face of what little color it had and bringing the perspiration instantly to his forehead.
Daniel worked as swiftly as possible, putting on a fresh dressing and fastening it firmly. He straightened then. “Forgive me, I did my best.”
“I know.” Nicholas began to shiver again, and his voice was a whisper.
“You must take some more bark.”
“I’m awash with the stuff.”
“You won’t drown, I promise you.” Daniel smiled as he poured some liquid from the jug and held the cup to Nicholas’s pale lips. “The fever is down a little, and in a day or so it will be gone.”
“And then?”
“Then we consider removing the ball from your arm. You know that I would not attempt anything unless I thought it vital.”
Nicholas nodded a little, looking at Laura. “Is all well?”
She felt Daniel’s warning look and smiled. “Yes, Nicholas.”
He seemed to relax then, and Daniel took up a phial of laudanum, “I think that I should administer some more of this, Nicholas.”
“Do your worst.”
Nicholas closed his eyes when he had taken the laudanum, and a little later Daniel drew Laura out into the passageway, closing the door.
“How was the noble earl?”
“Odious in the extreme.”
“What had he to say?”
“That he was master of the house for the time being and that I had no rights whatsoever as far as he was concerned.”
He nodded. “From what Charles Dodswell says, he is within his rights to say that.”
“And there is nothing which can be done about it?”
“Only if we risk telling Nicholas how bad things are, and as his doctor I cannot allow that to happen. You do understand, don’t you, Lady Grenville?”
She smiled up into his dark eyes. “Of course I do.”
He kissed her hand. “I wonder if Nicholas Grenville knows how lucky a man he is?”
She drew her hand away slowly. “You do my bruised pride much good, Dr. Tregarron.” She turned then as Hawkins approached. “Yes?”
“My lady, the ledgers and books you requested from Mr. Dodswell have arrived. Where do you wish them to be placed?”
“In my room.”
“Very well, my lady.”
Daniel looked at
her. “Charles was right, you know, you will find them dry reading.”
“Maybe.”
“Positively.”
She smiled.
“You are too pale, Lady Grenville; I prescribe an invigorating ride this afternoon. And as your doctor, I will ride with you to make certain the treatment works.” He held up a strict finger. “No, I will not hear any argument. We ride together this afternoon.”
“But—”
“This afternoon.” He left her, going back into Nicholas’s room.
“But I haven’t a riding habit,” she said to the closed door.
* * *
Luncheon in the presence of the earl and the Townsend cats was too much, and any doubt Laura may have had about the advisability of riding in a gown fled out of the window. At the appointed time, she presented herself on the portico steps. Daniel was waiting for her, and a groom held the reins of two horses.
Daniel’s eyes swept over her. “A gown for riding?”
“I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“Doctors never listen to stubborn patients who argue with their diagnoses.” He took her hand and then lifted her lightly up on to the saddle of the smaller horse. “Maybe we should be discreet and ride only in Langford Woods—the teacups would positively thunder if word of your delightful ankles should get out.”
She smiled. “After that odious luncheon, I could not care less.”
“That’s the spirit.”
The ride did indeed do her good. There was something so satisfying about riding a good horse on a fine, warm afternoon, in woods where the bluebells made a carpet of color beneath the fresh green branches.
They said very little as they rode, and she was glad of his companionable silence. She felt very easy in his company, had from the outset, and she wondered about his private life. Surely there was a sweetheart, for a man as good-looking as Daniel Tregarron would not be without female admirers.
They returned to the house, and to her relief she saw the earl’s landau departing. How good it would be if the Townsend cats were with him, but that was not to be, for they were waving from the steps.
They had gone inside when the two horses were reined in by the portico and Daniel dismounted, then helped Laura down. His hands remained on her waist for a moment as he looked at her. “There are roses in your cheeks, my lady, and I do believe my prescription has proved a sovereign remedy for your melancholy.”
“I do feel a lot better, it is true.”
He removed his hands then. “We must ride together again.”
“I would like that. Thank you.” She turned to go up the steps into the house.
He watched her until she passed from sight. Holding her waist like that had brought forth damnable temptation, for it would have been so easy to draw her close and place a kiss upon those sweet lips. After a moment he handed the reins to a waiting groom and then followed her into the house.
Chapter 19
A week passed, and for Laura it was a desperately miserable time, for she was completely at the mercy of Augustine and her mother. She was also forced to suffer at the hands of James Grenville, who saw to it that he made frequent visits to King’s Cliff. His impotent fury at having the estate plucked from his clutches was a terrible tiling, and Laura found him quite abhorrent. Had he said aloud that he wished Nicholas dead, he could not have been more plain. Augustine’s attitude was scarcely palatable either, for she made every opportunity to be with Nicholas, but if the earl should come to King’s Cliff, then she was most careful not to raise his suspicions about her activities. Between them all they did everything they could to make Laura’s position untenable, and it was obvious to her that nothing would suit them more than that she should bow beneath it all and leave King’s Cliff. Had it not been for Daniel Tregarron’s comforting and uplifting presence, she felt she would indeed have sunk beneath it all. At the worst moments she called upon her memory of that one day in Venice when everything had been so very good and when it had seemed so right that they should be together.
Nicholas’s progress was slow but steady. The malaria seemed to have almost faded, although Daniel warned that it was an ague that recurred when least expected—particularly at times of stress. And so nothing was said to Nicholas about the estate’s problems, and when he asked Laura about such things, she was careful to reassure him. He still had a slight temperature, and from time to time the shivering returned, but it was nothing like the first attack on board the Cygnet. The Jesuits’ bark was no longer being administered, and Daniel only gave him laudanum now, to deaden the immense pain from his badly wounded arm. The wound itself remained blessedly clean, although Daniel was fearful that it would after all become putrid before he felt Nicholas was ready to endure the operation. Where the baron’s bullet had grazed Nicholas’s temple, there was only a scar now, a scar which would remain with him for the rest of his life.
With Augustine guarding him so closely, there were few opportunities for Laura to be alone with him. She was reduced to seizing her chance the moment the earl chose to call, and to creeping to his bedside during the night. Sometimes he was awake on these occasions, but mostly the laudanum made him sleep. Sleep, said Daniel, was a great healer….
Haunted by Augustine’s revelations, Laura sought desperately to discover if indeed it was true that he wished their marriage to be set aside as soon as possible, but there was nothing in his manner to tell her anything. He said very little, but when he smiled at her and inquired about her own health and well-being, she simply could not believe that Augustine had been telling the truth. Always mindful of Daniel’s warning, Laura made herself appear cheerful and buoyant, but inside she felt far from either emotion.
Each day she saw Mr. Dodswell, fearful that the post would produce the dreaded communication from Mr. Peterson, the moneylender, but so far there had been nothing. It was a sword of Damocles hanging over them, a sword made all the more sharp and quivering by the senseless extravagance, which still continued unabated, of James Grenville and the two Townsend cats.
Taking her meals with them had proved far too unpleasant, and so Laura now took her meals in the library, and there, to her great pleasure, she was joined by Daniel, who still remained at the house while Nicholas was so ill. They had repeated their afternoon ride several times now, and on each occasion she had to admit that she felt better on her return to the house than she had at the outset. The heavy atmosphere in the house, the hatred of the two women, the vitriolic spite of the earl, and the constant fear that Nicholas would take a turn for the worse took its daily toll on her. The roses in her cheeks gained by the rides had faded again after an hour or so back in the house. She told herself that she was a fool to remain, that she would receive no thanks when it was all over, but she could not bring herself to desert Nicholas. In spite of all the barriers she could see rising all around her, she still felt far too much for him to be able to go.
Mr. Dodswell’s estate books and ledgers proved heavy going, but she labored each night in her room, and the consequence was that she found herself discovering more and more about the house over which she was titular mistress. One thing she learned immediately was that Augustine Townsend’s family had no claim whatsoever to King’s Cliff, for they had sold it quite legally and finally to the Grenvilles. This one fact was very satisfying, and Laura had dwelt triumphantly upon it, for it proved beyond a doubt that Augustine had no right at all to behave the way she did. She studied too the agent’s list of everything considered to be dispensable—and a vast list it was. If Nicholas did carry out all these changes, King’s Cliff would never ever be the same again, that much was for sure….
* * *
It was the final day of April and Laura and Daniel rode down the escarpment, passing beneath the soaring pinnacle of the Townsend monument. King’s Cliff Moor stretched away beneath them, and then they were on the levels, the horses picking their way on to a small, barely detectable causeway, built hundreds of years earlier by the monks of
a nearby monastery. The marsh grass swayed as the breeze whispered over the lowland, and apart from that small sound, there was a serene silence everywhere. The shining water flashed in the late April sunlight, and the deep gold of kingcups shone at the rim of the ancient rhines, which once had drained the marsh but which were now so dilapidated and untended as to be useless. Pollarded willows grew along the rhines, their delicate foliage drooping lazily over the still water. The riders brought their horses to the largest of the trees.
Daniel dismounted and helped Laura down. They stood for a moment, listening to the soothing silence, and Laura looked back toward King’s Cliff where it straddled the escarpment some two miles away. The Townsend monument pierced the sky like a gigantic needle, and the house itself looked magnificent, a veritable Versailles in such a setting.
Daniel tethered the horses to the willow and then came to stand beside her, looking at the house. “That place has a strange effect upon all those closely connected with it. They either love it completely, or despise it; there does not seem to be a half measure.”
“And what do you feel, Dr. Tregarron?”
“I am not closely connected with it.”
“Nevertheless, you must have an opinion.”
“I despise King’s Cliff.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Such vehemence? Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t really know, but I’ve always felt that somehow that house would one day bring me great sorrow. I know that I shall not be sorry to leave it and return to my own dwelling, modest though that dwelling be.” He smiled at her. “One thing I will be sorry about, however, is that when I leave, I will no longer be so frequently alone in your sweet company, Lady Grenville.”
