Signs of Love and Deliverance

by Tracy Kay

  Charles was aghast at anyone thinking he would force himself on a woman. “You know I would never force myself on you.”

  “Certainly, you wouldn’t, Charles,” she simpered, smoothing over his ruffled male ego. “But my aunt has her heart set on my marrying into a family of nobility such as the Cathcarts, and you aren’t even titled. It will take time to convince her that I don’t care about titles.”

  “Your aunt wishes you to marry Lord Kenrik?” Charles questioned in disbelief. They were cousins after all, distant perhaps, but still related. None of this made sense to him.

  “Goodness no. Aunt Beatrice wants me to marry one of his brothers. Lord Kenrik and his brothers have different mothers, which means I am not related to them, only to Lord Kenrik,” Joselyn explained, hoping she had the truth of it correct, and if not, well one more lie wouldn’t matter. She had to convince him she was no longer available to him.

  “I still don’t understand the problem, Joselyn.” Charles was sure that once he talked with her aunt, she would realize he was acceptable. Lady Joselyn was hardly beneath him. She was merely the sister of a baron and a minor one at that. He couldn’t comprehend how a match between them would be unsuitable. After all, he was a very wealthy business man, well liked, and honored in the community. “I am sure once we explain our love, she will understand.”

  Becoming frustrated and cross, Joselyn sat down again and said in a rush, “Charles, I can’t deal with this right now. My brother’s dead, Jeremy is beside himself with grief and these threats . . .”

  “What of these threats, Joselyn?” Charles inquired with concern, once again sitting next to her and taking her hands into his. If someone was threatening her, he was sure he could help stop them.

  “It is horrible, Charles, absolutely horrible,” she sobbed, tugging her hands out of his to cover her face again. Grateful for the change of subject, she wailed dramatically. “The note threatened to kill me. Me. I have done nothing. My brother did nothing, and now, he is dead.”

  “Joselyn, why would anyone wish to threaten you?” Charles was beginning to lose his patience with her theatrics. He was aware of her dramatic flair and it usually amused him, but today, he found it annoying.

  “It has something to do with our land, I believe.” She waved her hand as if the details were of no importance. “Lord Kenrik is taking care of it.”

  “I will speak with him, Joselyn,” Charles decided determinedly. “Perhaps I can be of assistance. We can continue seeing each other and properly this time. I don’t like these clandestine meetings. It is unseemly.”

  “No, Charles!” She jumped up, beginning to panic. She quickly composed herself and said more calmly, “No, Charles, it isn’t right. When the threat is over and a proper amount of time has passed, then we can announce our intentions. I don’t like these secret meetings either. I think for the time being we shouldn’t see each other. Once things have settled down, we can see each other again.” Now more than ever, she was determined not to see him again.

  “I don’t like this, Joselyn; indeed, I don’t.” Something was off about her entire story and he didn’t like it, not at all.

  “I know, Charles. I don’t either, but I see no other way around it,” she professed, thinking he was referring to them not seeing each other. “I do love you, really, I do.” She sat down next to him and began taking off the sapphire necklace he had given her on their last meeting. “I should return this to you, at least until we can resume our relationship.”

  He regarded her with surprise. He couldn’t believe she wanted to return his gift. He did not want to end the relationship and he was sure she didn’t either. He would have to speak to Lord Kenrik and sort things out. He was sure the man would be reasonable once he knew the situation. Joselyn was an excitable creature and got worked up over the smallest things. He was confident Lord Kenrik would agree to a marriage. Situations such as these needed to be dealt with between men, without all the emotion. Pleased with his conclusions, he patted her hand. “No, my darling, I gave it to you as a token of my love. Please, keep it.”

  “I couldn’t possibly, Charles. What if . . .” Joselyn left the words hanging between them, letting his imagination fill in the rest. She knew he wouldn’t take the gift back. Her men never did, and in a month or two, she would sell it for a nice little profit.

  “I insist,” Charles said, holding her hands.

  Joselyn jerked her hands from his and stood. “Thank you, Charles. When everything has settled, I will return to you, my love. I promise.”

  Charles stood with her, resigned to letting her have her way for now. “I will be waiting.” He drew her into his arms and kissed her passionately.

  He would have a long wait, Joselyn thought. She couldn’t risk continuing her affair with him, and by the time all this was over, there would be another unsuspecting man more suitable for her deceit. Besides, Charles was turning out to be too smart for her schemes. Joselyn put her hands on his chest. “I must go. If I don’t return soon, I will be missed.” She gave him a beseeching look of misery and gave him a last hug before pushing away from him. “My Charles, I will miss you so,” she cried, letting the false tears of anguish stream down her face.

  “As will I. Are you sure this is what you want? I can . . .” Charles tried one last time to convince her to let him help her.

  She cut his words off before he could finish. “My love, it is for the best.” She placed her fingers on his lips before spinning away from him, leaving him looking concerned.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The afternoon was peaceful and quite dull according to Madeline’s standards. She wished she was out visiting friends or climbing her favorite tree at Glendale, their family country estate, rather than sitting in the parlor pouring tea for Joselyn and Deirdre. Her brother, Jared, and Jeremy Parker were battling it out with a rousing game of chess, that is as rousing as chess can get in her estimation, at the small table near the unlit fire place. At least they were doing something interesting. Madeline sighed and surveyed the bright yellow and orange room with equally bright yellow and orange damask drapes and upholstery. It was her mother’s taste and she thought the room was a bit loud and too ornate. Actually, it was ghastly and she hated the color. Madeline had always wanted to redecorate the room, perhaps in soft shades of blue and ivory. Madeline smiled as she planned the room, deciding that she would start first thing in the morning. She would completely remodel it, and the first step would be to get rid of the ostentatious and heavily carved furniture.

  Madeline passed Deirdre her cup of tea when Avery, the Cathcart’s butler, entered the room and handed Joselyn a folded paper on a formal, silver tray. Every occupant in the parlor held his breath and prayed that the missive was only from one of Joselyn’s many callers. Jeremy stood from his game and placed a reassuring hand on Joselyn’s shoulder, giving his sister his silent support. Joselyn’s hands trembled as she took the note, her face turning ashen while reading its contents. Madeline carefully placed the teapot on the matching tray. She had a dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach about that note, but she couldn’t keep herself from inquiring. “Who is it from, Joselyn?”

  Slowly looking up at Madeline, Joselyn confirmed her fears. “It is from Farrington. He says: ‘Watch closely. Your time is upon you.’” Joselyn took a shuddered breath. “Unlike the other note, this is addressed to me.”

  “Oh, Joselyn, honey.” Madeline grasped her terrified friend’s hands. “He is not going to succeed in this, and I think he is only trying to scare you.”

  “Who is trying to scare you?” The tall, lean man with pale blond hair and crystal-clear blue eyes interrupted in a concerned voice.

  “Stephen!” Madeline squealed, forgetting all about the note, and launched herself at her twenty-four-year-old brother, whom she hadn’t seen in almost a year. He had been touring the Continent with some friends. “It is so good to have you home. I have missed you so much.” She plastered his face with kisses and squeezed his neck in jo
y.

  Stephen chuckled and disentangled himself. “I can see that.” He barely got out the words before Deirdre and Jared smothered him with sibling love and affection.

  “When did you get home?” Madeline wanted to know, suspecting that he had been home for some time.

  “Early this morning,” he replied, pulling Deirdre’s arm from around him.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” Madeline pouted.

  After kissing her forehead, he explained. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Well, I am awake now.” Grabbing his free hand, Madeline drew him onto the settee beside her. “Tell me all about your travels. I am dying to hear all about your adventures.”

  “Later, Maddy.” He put his arm around her and hauled her close. “First, I want you to tell me why someone is trying to scare you.” Like his older brothers, Stephen was protective of his sisters and loved them dearly. He wasn’t about to let anyone harm them if he could prevent it.

  “Oh, it is not me, but Joselyn. Her brother was recently killed.” Madeline began to explain, but he interrupted her.

  “Brandon and Nicholas have already filled me in on the details, Maddy, and Lord Henry here, tells me he thinks his brother was also murdered.” Noticing them for the first time, Madeline and the others all looked towards Henry Cummings and Marshall Nevell standing near the parlor entrance. However, their attention returned to Stephen when he demanded, “Tell me the new reason why someone is trying to scare Joselyn.”

  “Farrington sent her another note,” Jeremy answered and quickly turned pink when all eyes shifted to him.

  Sensing Jeremy’s embarrassment, Madeline squeezed her brother’s hand gaining his attention. “It is awful, Stephen. How could anyone do such a dreadful thing?”

  “I don’t know, honey. May I see the note?” Stephen requested, indicating the note in Joselyn’s hand. Joselyn passed him the paper and he quickly perused it. “It certainly gives the right effect, to frighten you.” Stephen turned towards the butler who was standing right outside the door. “Avery.”

  “Yes, my lord?” Avery stepped to the door.

  “Did you see who delivered the note to Lady Joselyn?”

  “It was a young lad, my lord. He ran off before I had the opportunity to question him.”

  “Very well, Avery. Thank you.” Stephen sighed, dismissing the butler.

  Speaking for the first time, Henry asked, “May I see the note?” When given the note, he studied it closely and pondered, “There is no indication that it came from Farrington. Do you have a sample of his handwriting somewhere?”

  “I didn’t think to compare it,” Madeline commented excitedly to Joselyn. “Those letters he sent your brother would have his handwriting.”

  “Unfortunately, they do not.” Joselyn huffed. “The letters came from his solicitor, not directly from him. We would never be able to match it.”

  “Maybe, but it is worth a try,” Stephen suggested.

  “I have a friend who dabbles in handwriting analysis. I am sure he could be of some help,” Marshall offered, startling everyone.

  “That would be splendid, Lord Marshall,” Madeline exclaimed, but a moment later she blushed remembering her manners. “Oh, Lord Marshall, Lord Henry, please forgive me. With all the excitement, I have neglected you. Please have a seat. May I pour you some tea?”

  “Thank you, Lady Madeline. I would love a cup,” Marshall answered, making himself comfortable in the seat across from Joselyn, while Henry declined the tea and moved in front of the fireplace to pensively observe the people before him. “Actually,” Marshall took a sip of his tea before continuing. “I came to ask Lady Joselyn if she would like to attend the theatre this evening. Lady Madeline, you are welcome to come along if you wish.”

  “That is very kind of you, Lord Marshall, but I think under the circumstances, I must decline,” Joselyn evaded, irritated at Marshall. She didn’t like the man. He was simply too annoying.

  “Nonsense, you will be perfectly safe. I am quite capable of protecting you,” he replied defensively.

  “I am sure you are, but . . .” Joselyn began.

  “Come now, Lady Joselyn. I know you love the theatre and it is opening night. Anyone who is anyone will be there,” Marshall insisted.

  “Lord Marshall, please try to understand Lady Joselyn’s position.” Madeline understood Joselyn’s reluctance in attending the theatre with Marshall Nevell. He had been hounding Joselyn ever since her first season to marry him and he was definitely not suitable.

  Although Marshall had wealth in his own right, he was the third son of a viscount with no title of his own and he had little social standing. He only attended gatherings when someone brought him along, which was usually Stephen whom he had been friends with since their school days. Being such a close friend of Stephen’s, he was always welcome in the Cathcart home. If Marshall could be considered handsome or charming, perhaps he would be more appealing, but he was a strange, intelligent man with flamboyant taste and effeminate mannerisms. Marshall had reddish-brown hair and kind, light brown eyes. He was a bit portly and wore the most outlandish, bright clothing, which he could not quite pull off. Despite his short comings, Madeline was fond of the man and enjoyed his company. “She is in mourning and serious danger. Besides, I do not think Brandon wants either of us to go out without him or Nicholas as an escort,” Madeline continued.

  “Lady Madeline, it would do both you and Lady Joselyn some good to get out and leave your worries behind for the evening. No one will think any less of Lady Joselyn for setting aside her mourning for one night. I would be pleased if I could be your escort,” Henry added pleasantly, hiding his irritation. He wasn’t allowing that fool, Nevell, any time alone with Joselyn or Madeline. He knew Marshall was courting Joselyn and had run into him at her home a few times. He didn’t like, nor trust, the man. He wondered how Marshall knew the Cathcarts and why he was even allowed to be here. Clenching his jaw, he waited impatiently for Madeline’s answer.

  Startled that Henry asked her, Madeline stumbled for an excuse to avoid the outing. “Thank you, Lord Henry, but I need Brandon’s permission.” She knew Henry had no interest in her and he had only asked her so he could be near Joselyn. If she didn’t dislike the man so much, she would see the humor in two grown men, whom Joselyn had absolutely no interest in, desperately competing with each other for her attentions.

  “I am sure he will give it, Maddy,” Stephen reassured, believing that Henry was one of his sisters many beaus. “I have an idea. Why don’t we make it a family outing? I will go as Deirdre’s escort, and the boys may come if they wish. I will convince Nick to tag along and that should satisfy Brandon.

  “Well then.” Madeline glared crossly at her brother, annoyed that he hadn’t taken the hint. “I guess that is settled.”

  Madeline was not the only one annoyed. Marshall wanted Joselyn to himself for the evening. He could have easily dealt with Madeline for she would be occupied with the other patrons at the theatre, but now, he would not have a moment alone with Joselyn. Why did Henry Cummings have to call today? He was always interfering with Marshall’s plans and spent too much time with Joselyn. He was definitely going to have to do something about Cummings.

  Marshall was dressed in a bright green and pink waistcoat with a frilly, white lace cravat at his throat and white lace falling onto the top of his plump hands. His clothing accentuated his ruddy complexion and clashed with his red-brown hair. Although Marshall tried to stay in fashion, he always seemed a step or two behind. He appeared the buffoon, and Joselyn was horrified that he held her by the elbow, trapping her by his side.

  It was intermission, and the theatre lobby was filled with patrons, making the air hot and stifling. Joselyn tugged at the high neck of her dark gray gown. Since she was in mourning, no one would comment on the color of her dress, which suited her just fine. She only wore the hideous thing because it was modest and it showed nothing of her figure, which was exactly
what she wanted. She didn’t want to give Marshall, or Henry for that matter, any ideas that she was remotely interested. Marshall always read into the slightest of things. She had learned in the past that if she showed the littlest bit of skin, he believed she was trying to seduce him. Ridiculous! As if she would ever be interested in that foolish fop again.

  Marshall had been one of her prospective lovers once, and he didn’t dare breathe one word of it, or she would reveal the scandal he took such care in covering. During their brief courtship, Joselyn had learned that he was the bastard of a footman. Apparently, his mother enjoyed having trysts with her friends’ servants. At the time, she had the impression that he had a great deal of money, but it turned out that he had very little. That had been her first and last mistake. Now, she always investigated her possible lovers herself and no longer relied on gossip for her information.

  Unfortunately, Marshall still tried to regain Joselyn’s attention, he bothered her with his endless invitations, and she always turned him down, until tonight. She was still irked with Stephen and Nicholas for agreeing to this outing, and not only did she have to put up with Marshall’s unwanted attention, but Henry Cummings’ as well. Although he was supposed to be Madeline’s escort, the man had directed all his concentration on her. How bothersome. She must give him credit though. Henry was dressed impeccably in a gray suit with a conservative, white cravat, the height of fashion; however, he did not come close to the handsome looks of the Cathcart’s. Stephen was dressed in dark brown, which accentuated his lean, wiry body, and Nicholas was wearing dark blue that deepened the sky blue of his eyes. The beautiful Deirdre was in a pale pink, chiffon concoction, which did not do her justice. Joselyn was sure it was something Deirdre’s mother had chosen for her. With her midnight black hair and creamy white skin, the poor girl simply could not wear pastels. Madeline appeared perfect as usual. She was wearing a misty green, satin gown, which showed off her curvaceous figure and made her eyes sparkle like emeralds. To Joselyn, it always seemed that Madeline out-shined everyone else, despite that Madeline was not of the same opinion.