Jaded Moon (Ransomed Jewels Book 2)

by Laura Landon

  “I’ve been interested in purchasing St. Stephen’s for several years, but until now haven’t seen the necessity to act upon my wishes.”

  “But now you do?”

  “Yes. My son has indicated a desire to marry and I know it would be advantageous to add St. Stephen’s Hollow to Lindville Grange. It’s common knowledge that St. Stephen’s isn’t entailed, nor has it been of any importance to you since you haven’t stepped foot here since you were a youngster and your mother was still alive. Until recently, we thought you’d forgotten you owned St. Stephen’s.”

  “But now that I’ve returned, you suddenly see the need to acquire it?”

  “Yes. I wish to leave my son with a substantial inheritance and the acquisition of St. Stephen’s will ensure his security as well as that of his children.”

  “How noble,” Ross said, taking note of the brandy Geoffrey Lindville eyed so enviously. “Unfortunately, St. Stephen’s is not for sale.”

  “You haven’t heard the amount we’re offering,” Lindville said, his tone of voice as condescending as his mother’s.

  “The amount is irrelevant. Selling St. Stephen’s is not a possibility.”

  “But why ever not,” Lindville countered, his voice rising in intensity. “You haven’t given this isolated little corner of England a second thought until now.”

  “As you can see, that has changed.”

  “Perhaps if we give you time to consider our offer…”

  “Time will not alter my decision. I couldn’t accept your offer even if I wanted to—which I don’t. St. Stephen’s belonged to my mother and there is a stipulation that prevents it from ever being sold.”

  Tension-filled silence seeped into the room.

  “I see,” Lady Lindville said, her voice dripping with icy hauteur.

  Lindville stepped forward. “And you still intend to use the land overlooking the cove to graze cattle?”

  “The opportunities for both St. Stephen’s and Clythebrook are well worth the risks.”

  Lindville paused then slowly lifted the corners of his mouth. “I doubt you’ll find that to be so,” he said, leveling Ross a hostile glare. “Come, mother. We’ve stayed long enough.”

  Without bidding Ross farewell, Baron Lindville escorted his mother from the room. Ross wanted to leave them to find their own way out of his home, but years of training forced him to escort them out. He stood beneath the marble portico and watched until their carriage was out of sight.

  Lindville and his mother were suddenly very hungry for land. Land Ross knew was being used by the smugglers.

  Ross made his way back to his study and looked down at the map spread out on top of his desk. St. Stephen’s wasn’t the only land to which the smugglers needed access. They also needed to get their hands on a large portion of Clythebrook Estate.

  Ross sat down behind his desk and wondered if Clythebrook Estate was entailed. If not, he suddenly wondered to what lengths Geoffrey Lindville would go to get it.

  …

  Josie sped across the meadow at an easy run on her way to Clythebrook Manor. Tonight was Lady Clythebrook’s dinner and Josie wanted a chance to speak with her again before the guests arrived. She’d spent hours last night trying to convince Lady Clythebrook not to go along with Rainforth’s venture. When she’d been unable to get a firm answer one way or the other, she’d bargained for her second option—at least one month of grace time before she let Rainforth start his project.

  Lady Clythebrook had listened to her request but hadn’t agreed to anything yet. She said she’d give her answer when the evening was over; after she’d heard any objections from the guests she’d invited tonight.

  Josie cut across a dry ravine and had only gone a few more steps before she heard the pounding of horses’ hooves behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and stopped. Geoffrey Lindville was racing toward her so quickly she had to step out of the way until he got his horse under control.

  “Good afternoon, Lord Lindville,” she said after he’d jumped to the ground.

  “Miss Foley. I was afraid I’d missed you. I went to the orphanage but they said you’d already left.”

  “Yes, I wanted to—”

  “We need to stop him.”

  Josie didn’t need to ask who Lindville was talking about, she knew. And she knew why it was important to stop him.

  “Nothing has been decided yet. Lady Clythebrook hasn’t given her approval for the project.”

  “Lady Clythebrook can’t give her approval,” he said, slapping his hand against his thigh. “You obviously don’t realize what’s at stake here.”

  “I’m just as aware of what we could lose as you.”

  “No! I don’t think you are. All you think about is that damned orphanage and making sure the children have what they need. We’re not talking about the frivolous little extras the children could do without. We’re talking about what I could lose. It’s my future that’s about to be destroyed!”

  Josie stared in dumbstruck disbelief as Geoffrey Lindville paced a small area in front of her. She’d never see him like this. The two of them had been partners for almost two years and not once had she seen such a display of temper from him. But never had their venture been tested as it was being tested now. “I know what you think you will sacrifice if the money we make from the smuggling is lost.” She tried to keep her voice calm. “You will lose—”

  “Everything! Until I’m thirty my mother controls my spending. You know how generous she is to the orphanage.” His sardonic laughter sent out a spine-chilling sound. “Well, she’s no more giving to her own son. It’s how she remains in control.”

  Josie pulled the thin shawl she wore closer around her shoulders and fought the niggling voice that whispered a warning. “Rainforth can’t do anything without Lady Clythebrook’s approval. And she hasn’t made a final decision.”

  “Then you have to make sure she refuses to give him permission to use the land.”

  “I’m almost certain she will. I’ve pointed out every reason I can think of to convince her. She promised she wouldn’t make a decision until after the dinner tonight and I have every belief she’ll refuse him.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m fairly confident she will.”

  Lindville visibly relaxed. “I should have known you had everything under control. If you see Lady Clythebrook wavering, you can always use your charms to convince Rainforth to abandon his plan.”

  “My charms?”

  Lindville laughed. “Really, Miss Foley. You act as though you’ve never realized with your looks you could wrap any man around your finger. And you know what they say about catching flies with honey.”

  Josie remembered the kiss she and the Marquess of Rainforth had shared and her cheeks blazed. “I have no intention of being any nicer to Rainforth than I must.”

  His brows furrowed. “There’s a lot at stake here, Miss Foley. It might be worth removing that icy exterior of yours just this once to stop Rainforth. Perhaps you can force yourself to endure a man’s attentions for just a little while for the children’s sake.”

  Josie knew what Lindville thought of her. She knew what everyone thought. Well, let them think she was a cold fish. Let them whisper behind her back that she thought she was better than everyone because she’d been raised by the Earl and Countess of Clythebrook. She knew most of their objections stemmed from the fact that she’d soundly rejected every attempt to court her.

  But she’d never give in to a man like her mother had. Nor would she be fooled by the blatant efforts of the local gentry to pretend the circumstances surrounding her birth didn’t matter to them when she knew they did. She knew every attempt to court her had been for one purpose only—to gain the property they knew she would inherit when Lady Clythebrook died. Baron Lindville had been the only one who hadn’t offered her that lie. Not because her illegitimacy didn’t matter to him because it did. The fact that she was a bastard child offended him equally as much as it repul
sed his mother. But he was forced to overlook her tainted birth because she played such a vital role in the smuggling operation.

  “I have to go,” she said, shaking off the qualms of unease she suddenly felt.

  “Don’t forget what I said. If you want to keep the orphanage open and the children fed and clothed, you’ll do whatever you must to stop Rainforth.”

  Josie clutched her hands within the folds of her skirts and tried to ignore the threat she heard in Lindville’s voice. He was mistaken if he thought she would ever throw herself at any man, especially the Marquess of Rainforth. And even more mistaken if he thought it might do any good. She would never give in to any man. Especially a man with the Marquess of Rainforth’s reputation.

  Her mother had done that and died regretting it.

  Jaded Moon

  by Laura Landon

  Ransomed Jewels Series Book Two

  CHAPTER 8

  Josie stood in the drawing room near the fireplace, waiting for the first of the guests to arrive. It was early yet—too early for Rainforth to make an appearance. He would be the last to come.

  She didn’t know why she thought that, except she’d seen firsthand the reaction the marquess had received from Baron Lindville when they’d met the day before. This may not be London, and the guests Lady Clythebrook had invited tonight might not be the cream of Society, but she doubted his reception would be any different. Rainforth’s father had been accused of treason, after all, and the people of Clytheborough had been just as affected by what he’d done as the rest of England had.

  Josie didn’t know why it was so easy for people to transfer the sins of a father to his children. Perhaps because it gave them someone to blame. But she thought she knew the Marquess of Rainforth well enough to know he wouldn’t back down from the assault. Nor would he take the easiest route. He would arrive late to face Lady Clythebrook’s guests en masse rather than coming early to dilute the unpleasant task into bite-sized pieces.

  “Is something wrong, Josephine?”

  Josie turned as Lady Clythebrook entered the room. The countess looked lovely tonight. The gown she wore was her very finest, a silver brocade with an overskirt of shimmering filigree netting. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes held a glow that Josie remembered from a time long ago. Tonight she did not seem nearly so fragile. She seemed…hopeful. And they had the Marquess of Rainforth to credit—or blame—for such optimism.

  “You look stunning,” Josie said with a smile on her face. “Still the most elegant woman in England.”

  “You’ve stolen Lord Clythebrook’s line.”

  Lady Clythebrook smiled then lifted her chin slightly at the fond memory. “And you look…worried.”

  Josie walked across the room to help Lady Clythebrook to the place of honor in the center of the room. She’d chosen not to use her cane tonight and walked a little unsteadily. But if she was in pain, she hid it well. “Are you sure this dinner party is a good idea?”

  “Are you worried it isn’t?”

  Josie hesitated, then voiced her concerns. “I saw the way Baron Lindville reacted to the Marquess of Rainforth yesterday. Tonight he’ll have to face Lindville’s mother and the other guests. You know as well as I that Squire Pearsons lost a nephew in the Crimea.”

  “What would you suggest Rainforth do? Hide away for the rest of his life?”

  “No, of course not, but…”

  “If he intends for his venture to succeed, these are the people he’s going to have to convince of the worthiness of his plan. Don’t you think it’s better that he face them now while there’s still a chance they feel included in his final decision than after the cattle are already here and they feel as though they’ve been forced to go along with him?”

  “Are you saying you’ve decided to allow Rainforth to put cattle on Clythebrook Estate?”

  “I haven’t decided anything yet. I told you I’d consider your objections. Much will depend on what happens tonight.”

  “And if he’s rejected out of hand?”

  “Then my decision will be more difficult.”

  “All I ask,” Josie said, carefully choosing her words, “is that you trust me enough to know I wouldn’t oppose Rainforth’s plan without good cause.”

  Lady Clythebrook smiled. “And if I decide to agree to Lord Rainforth’s plan?”

  “Then give me a month.”

  A frown deepened on Lady Clythebrook’s forehead. “Is it Rainforth to whom you object, Josephine? Has he done something to offend you?”

  Josie shook her head.

  “I was hoping not. He’s an exceptional man. Quite your match.”

  Josie jerked her head to face Lady Clythebrook. “He’s not my match. He’s a marquess. A nobleman.”

  “And your match.” She smiled, then added, “It must be his plan, then. Why are you so opposed to it?”

  “Because he cannot guarantee that it will work. And even if it does, it will be more than a year before we will see any profits. The children cannot wait a year.”

  “Oh, Josephine. When will you give in just a little and trust someone else to shoulder some of the burden for the children?”

  “Never. I’ll never give the children over to someone else’s care and that’s what would happen by encouraging Lord Rainforth.”

  “It seems you aren’t the only one who feels this way.”

  Josie put the small figurine she’d been holding back on the elegantly carved table. “What do you mean?”

  “Lady Lindville paid me a call earlier today to suggest I use my dinner tonight to dissuade Lord Rainforth of continuing his plan.”

  “What did you say?”

  “That I intended to do just the opposite. That the reason for my dinner was to give Lord Rainforth the opportunity to answer any questions anyone might have.”

  “Do you think that was wise?”

  A frown deepened on Lady Clythebrook’s face. “And why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Because…”

  Because Lady Lindville and her son are the last people on earth you should alienate.

  Because there’s so much more going on than you realize.

  Because…

  But Josie was spared having to answer. Before she could gather the right words, Banks announced the arrival of their first guests.

  . . .

  In attendance were Baroness Lindville and her son, Baron Lindville, Vicar Chadwick, and Mr. and Mrs. Sharpe, one of the wealthiest merchants in Clytheborough. Squire Pearsons, the local magistrate and his wife, had also been invited, along with the Pottsworth sisters, Miss Evangeline and Miss Eustacia—spinster sisters whose father had been the vicar before Vicar Chadwick. Their inclusion was mandatory at all functions of importance. And this was indeed important.

  All of them had been specifically chosen because of the effect the Marquess of Rainforth’s venture would have on them. It was a known fact that any proposal would run smoother with their support. But if the wary undercurrent Josie sensed as the guests mingled remained, the evening promised to be anything but ordinary.

  Josie walked around the room, making sure conversations flowed smoothly and that each guest had a glass of the special wine Lady Clythebrook had brought up for the occasion. Everything progressed perfectly, except for a halt now and then as one or another of them paused to check the doorway to see if he was here yet.

  Josie knew the exact moment he arrived. And saw the impact of his presence.

  He stood in the empty doorway for several seconds after Banks ushered him into the room, letting them all study him.

  There was not a hint of reticence or self-consciousness, but a boldness in the way he faced them. His stature was tall and erect with his shoulders back and his head high. His demeanor contained an air of arrogance that he wore as casually as he wore his perfectly tailored clothing. Josie tried to pull her gaze away from him but couldn’t. He was dark and bronzed and magnificently handsome, and every ounce of his breeding rose to the forefront, from the p
roud lift of his sharply defined chin to his noble countenance.

  The stony silence echoed in her ears as every eye in the room remained riveted on where he stood.

  He didn’t lower his gaze but let them drink their fill, then walked through the room with long, confident strides that ate up the space between the doorway and the sofa where Lady Clythebrook sat. He was an imposing figure on the most ordinary of days, but tonight he was even more impressive as he crossed the room to lift Lady Clythebrook’s hand to his lips in greeting.

  She’d told herself she wouldn’t be affected by him—by the warmth in his pewter-gray eyes or the inviting pull of his smile or how elegant he looked in his black evening clothes. But none of her lectures had done the least bit of good. A slow, tumultuous churning commenced inside her the moment she realized he was there.

  From the smile on his face and elegant grace of his movements, no one would have guessed that he noticed the sudden stillness that swept through the room.

  Josie watched him for as long as was considered polite, then forced her gaze to move to the other guests who stood in rigid stillness. How she survived the uncomfortable tension his arrival caused she didn’t know. How he survived it, she couldn’t imagine.

  Josie would have liked to have continued her conversation with the Pottsworth sisters and Mrs. Sharpe, but didn’t want to give the impression she was avoiding him. No matter what tragedy happened tonight, she didn’t want any hint of blame placed at her feet. She excused herself and selected a glass from the tray Banks had just brought into the room.

  “Lord Rainforth.”

  “Miss Foley. How lovely you look tonight. If Lady Clythebrook were not in attendance, no one would compare to your beauty.”

  “I’m sure Lady Clythebrook thanks you.”

  “Indeed I do,” Lady Clythebrook said with a broad smile.

  “But you do not?”