“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
There were letters waiting for both of them when they returned to the manor for tea. Felicia, now firmly settled at Miss Ridley’s Academy for Genteel Young Ladies, was a tireless correspondent and Tina found herself looking forward to her letters. They were often full of interesting tidbits she was learning, as well as funny incidents involving her new-found friends. In short, she was enjoying herself, which put Tina’s mind at ease.
Jay, on the other hand, received two missives, only one of which could be said to have had any good news in it.
Chapter Thirteen
“How would you like to take a short trip?”
Tina looked up from her poached salmon. “To where?”
“North Road Manor.”
Tina was puzzled for a moment, then comprehension dawned. “Where Mama grew up?”
Jay nodded.
“But isn’t it a distance away?” she asked. “It’s near the Scottish border.”
“Yes, it’s near the Scottish border, but so is Newcastle—nearly. As it turns out, it is near a small hamlet called Byrness, just northwest of Newcastle.”
Tina sat back in her seat in dazed wonder. “Somehow, I always pictured it on the western side, near the road to Gretna Green. I suspect the name had something to do with that.”
“To be sure, I had suspected the very same thing. However, I suppose since there is also a road there, it, too, could be considered a north road. I’ll do some checking on how to get there tomorrow, then perhaps the next day we can go.”
Two days later, they set out in a coach for North Road Manor. It was a warm day, a cooling breeze making it more comfortable than it might have been. Jay warned her it would be a long drive—and they might have to make the drive back if their reception was inhospitable. Tina hadn’t cared. The opportunity to see where her mother had been born and raised was an irresistible lure.
The rolling hills were green and lush, dotted with heather, a purple flower more commonly associated with Scotland than England. Along the way, they noted pasture upon pasture of grazing sheep and cattle—with the occasional farmer’s field thrown in. The bucolic scenery reminded her occasionally of the Devon countryside, minus the heather, of course.
They stopped at a small inn along the way, enjoying a surprisingly good meal, then, assured by the innkeeper they were headed in the right direction, continued on their way. Jay was heartened by the cleanliness of the inn, noting to Tina after they left, if necessary, they could spend the night there on the way back. The concern was for naught, however, as they were greeted warmly at North Road Manor by Sir Ralph Tindale and his wife. Jovial and warm, the two insisted they stay the night after their long trip.
Unfortunately, they were of little help in Jay’s search.
“Hmmm. A young man did come by here looking for my cousin and his wife some years back, but I don’t recall his name,” Sir Ralph told Jay after dinner. “He was disappointed to learn they were dead and we did not know the whereabouts of the daughter.”
“Did he talk to anyone else? Is there anyone else still here who might have known your cousin and his family?”
“Well, my housekeeper was here before I came. She probably knew somethin’. Old Martha prob’ly knew them as well. She’s older than the hills. But, I don’t know if that young man talked to either of them.”
“As a matter-o’-fact he did,” the housekeeper replied after being summoned. “Said t’were important he find my little Felicia. Course, I only knew she had married and sailed off to India. Married a soldier, she did. That was all I knew, my lord.”
“He didn’t happen to mention his name or where he was from, did he?”
The little old woman shook her head. “He did say if’n he didn’t find her, he might be back to see if I ’membered anythin’ else. But, I’m supposin’ he found her, ’cause he ain’t been back.”
“He didn’t say why he was looking for her, did he?” Jay pressed.
The housekeeper thought for a few moments. “No, m’fraid not.”
“Anything else you might remember about him?” Jay asked hopefully.
But the housekeeper shook her head sadly. “No, my lord.”
They spent another whole day in the area talking to very old people who remembered the previous baronet, his lady, and their daughter, but learned nothing except the young man who had come asking had been from “somewhere south”.
“Considering the location of this place, ‘somewhere south’ is the whole of England,” Jay remarked to Tina as the coach rumbled down the drive away from North Road Manor.
Tina giggled. “I suppose it is.” Settling back against the comfortably padded squabs, she sighed, and turned to contemplate the countryside rolling by. “But it was nice to see where Mama grew up. It truly was a beautiful place, if a little remote.”
“It’s too bad no one remembered more about your mother.”
“Old Martha told me I resembled my grandmother more than my mother, except for my eyes, of course. She told me stories about my mother growing up, but I’m not sure any of them will help you to find Mr. Milton.” Turning from her consideration of the scenery outside the window, she raised her eyes to his. “Do you really need to still find him?”
“Yes, we do.” Startled, Jay’s answer was curt, brooking no argument. Tina was not deterred.
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yes. Why?” she echoed. “Why is it so important you find him?”
“Because he must be made to pay for his crimes.” Jay’s tone seemed to imply she should understand this.
“Because he embezzled money from the estate?” she asked. “After all, he didn’t murder anyone, so why…?”
“We aren’t so sure he didn’t.”
Tina stared, uncomprehending. “Didn’t what?”
“Murder someone.”
Tina was speechless. “But, who…?” Then, understanding. “Aaron?”
Jay watched her closely. He still wasn’t sure of her feelings for Aaron. He had admitted to himself he was afraid to ask and, until now, they had only discussed him in reference to the betrothal contract.
“According to Lord Weston and his brother, who questioned some of Aaron’s friends, one of the last ones to see him alive—besides Milton—was a chap by the name of Grantham. He insisted Aaron was in high spirits the night before he was supposed to leave London. He even told Grantham he was heading home to get married. In addition, Grantham could think of no one who might have challenged Aaron to a duel. Aaron, he said, just wasn’t duel material.”
Tina couldn’t think. She was immobile with shock. Aaron had been murdered? Had she brought it on? She couldn’t have—could she? Nona would have said she set the wheels in motion. She had told her once before when you wished hard enough for something, you create conditions which make it possible for it to happen. But, how would she have made Mr. Milton do it? She wished she had confided in Nona and asked her about it. Now, she only had the guilt and what ifs. Looking down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap, she took a slow deep breath to calm her racing heart.
Jay watched the series of emotions pass through Tina’s eyes before she dropped them to her lap. From horror, to guilt, to anguish. An anguish so deep she seemed to be tearing herself apart. Had she really felt so deeply for Aaron?
“Tina?”
She raised tormented, tear-filled eyes to his. “It’s all my fault,” she whispered, pain in every word. Then, as the tears spilled over, she buried her face in her hands and her shoulders began to shake.
For a few moments, Jay was frozen in shock. All her fault? Of course, it wasn’t her fault. How could she think that? She hadn’t introduced Roderick Milton into the family. She’d been just as much of a victim, perhaps more so if you didn’t count Aaron. After all, Aaron had been the person who had made friends with Milton. He had possibly sealed his own fate by doing so. How could it be her fault?
Reaching out, he scooped her
off the seat and set her in his lap, cradling her close. The tears were running rivulets down her cheeks, but she made so little noise if he hadn’t seen her, he would not have known she was crying. Fishing his handkerchief out of his pocket, he pressed it into her hand.
“It’s not your fault,” he soothed. “Of course it’s not your fault.”
“But it was,” she insisted between sniffles. “I—I wished it.”
“Wished it?” He was clearly perplexed. “Wished what?”
“That he wouldn’t come back,” she gulped. “I was so frightened. And it was so horrible, I was sick. I didn’t want…” her voice trailed off.
Jay waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he prompted her. “Didn’t want what?”
“Him to come back. I wished he would stay away and forget about me.” Completely lost in her thoughts, she continued. “Nona said if you wish hard enough for something, it somehow comes true, but not always in the way you want it to. And I wished so hard he would never come back,” she sobbed. “But I didn’t mean it that way. I never meant for him to die.”
The realization exploded in his head. She was talking about Aaron! She hadn’t wanted to marry him! For some reason, his spirits soared. He suddenly wanted to shout with joy. But, he had to quell the emotion. Tina needed him at this moment. Time enough later to savor his triumph.
“I didn’t want him to die!” she cried. “I just wanted him to stay away.”
She was shaking uncontrollably now and he could feel her tears soaking through his shirt.
“Tina,” he tipped her face up to his, “Tina, listen to me. You had nothing to do with Aaron’s death. It was not your fault. You cannot wish people away.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I know logically, it couldn’t happen. But, I wanted it so badly, you see. I shouldn’t have wanted it so much. I should have just told Mama and Papa. They wouldn’t…they wouldn’t have forced me.” The words seemed to just tumble out, one over the other. “But, I—I was so afraid. I didn’t want to disappoint Papa. And I had liked him before. I tried to convince myself that…that after we were married he would…would be nice to me again. That he might not mind I wasn’t beautiful. That…” she hiccupped. “That I could be a good wife to him. That…”
And the revelations went on as he held her, the tears continuing to seep from beneath her lashes. How Aaron had, at first, been a fun companion, and someone to look up to. How he had begun to change after he went off to London and made friends with Mr. Milton. How she had thrown herself into becoming the perfect marchioness so he wouldn’t be ashamed of her. And on and on, until she revealed the last time she had seen him when he had kissed a frightened sixteen-year-old into submission and promised more upon his return. And, lastly, how she had been physically ill for days after he left, but afraid to tell her parents what had happened.
Rage burned in his chest over what she had suffered. He had been so fixated on finding out what Milton had done and why, and discovering he might have actually killed Aaron in cold blood had bolstered his determination to find him no matter what the cost. He had not looked carefully enough at Tina. He hadn’t wanted to ask her outright about Aaron, merely supposing she had been looking forward to marrying him and becoming mistress of Thane Park. And she had at first.
Aaron had stripped away all her dreams in an unnecessarily cruel moment. What could have possessed him to intimidate a child in such a way? He wondered, now, if his father would have allowed Aaron to marry Tina at sixteen. Would his father have been so eager to secure the next generation for Thane Park had he known? It infuriated him she had been subjected to such abuse and left with a promise of more. Then to have lived with the guilt over Aaron’s death.
Jay didn’t want to examine too closely his feelings when it came to Tina. It was easy to chalk it up to protectiveness, now she was his wife. But, a niggling doubt in the back of his mind and a simmering anger in the region of his heart, caused him to question even that rationalization.
Tina was subdued for the rest of the ride home and he was relieved when they finally reached Kenwyck. He had left her to her thoughts, not knowing what else to do, although he had held her in his arms for most of the trip. There seemed to be nothing else he could say to convince her she hadn’t wished Aaron dead.
After a late dinner, he retreated to the study to look over some papers and write a letter while she headed upstairs.
He would leave her alone this night, he told himself as he climbed the stairs much later. She had received a shock today and needed her rest. She was probably asleep anyway. He did not doubt she would be in better spirits tomorrow. Yet, he knew he would miss her warmth. He had become used to waking up beside her every morning.
He was lying in bed, still awake, an hour later when the connecting door opened.
Tina approached the massive bed quietly. She had not been able to sleep and had waited for Jay to join her. She acknowledged to herself she needed his continued reassurance. But when he hadn’t appeared, she began to worry he had been repelled by her admission this morning in the carriage. He had firmly told her she couldn’t possibly have wished Aaron’s death, but he had been politely solicitous the rest of the day. Perhaps he wished he hadn’t married her now he knew. Every logical and rational fragment of her brain told her he didn’t believe she had anything to do with Aaron’s death, but the emotional part of her—the part of her that loved him—told her otherwise.
And love him she did. Completely, absolutely, overwhelmingly. So, now what? She wanted to know. Now. Before her courage deserted her, she decided. She needed to know if he had developed a disgust of her.
She knew he was still awake. Even though he hadn’t moved, she could sense it. She wasn’t sure what to do. Suppose he wanted to be alone? Should she intrude on his privacy? It was too late to turn back, however. He knew she was there and if she turned and left, would he let her? Indecision kept her immobile for a moment as she warred with her thoughts, but impulsiveness won out in the end and she lifted the covers and slid into the bed—and into Jay’s waiting arms.
She had never felt so relieved in her life when he asked no questions, but merely settled her beside him. A soft sigh escaped her as she relaxed completely against his large, warm body. She was asleep in minutes.
*
“The Marquis of Thanet, my lady,” the butler announced as Jay strode into the drawing room at Number 19, Park Court. Seated on a sofa upholstered in dark green velvet, the dowager Countess of Wynton looked up from the cup of tea she had just poured herself. A fashion magazine sat open in her lap, but she put it aside as she set down the cup and rose to meet him.
“I don’t suppose you’ve come to tell me that you changed your mind and are still nominally in charge of the earldom,” she said in greeting.
He raised her blue-veined hand to his lips. “I’m afraid not, my lady.”
Frowning at his answer, she motioned for him to take a seat and resumed her own as he settled on a matching sofa across from her. “Then to what do I owe this visit, this time?” she asked. “Tea? Or would you prefer something stronger?”
Jay declined the offer, aware he probably would not be there above a few minutes once he relayed his information.
“I have merely come to ensure you were aware of our new relationship,” he said cryptically. “And to, shall we say, request your cooperation.”
She had once been a lovely woman. Not beautiful in the accepted sense, her features were too strong. But the wide-spaced green eyes and pale blonde hair would probably still be striking if it wasn’t for the bitterness permanently marked on her expression. Her eyes narrowed at his comment and he knew she understood that his request was a mere formality.
“What kind of cooperation?”
“The kind which requires you do nothing to cause my wife discomfort in public.”
She pressed her lips together in a straight line, her hand going to a locket suspended from a delicate chain about her neck. “And why should I bother
with your wife?”
“You shouldn’t,” he stated. “You have made it clear to me you have no interest in your grandchildren, and the ton is aware you will not receive the current earl. Once they learn my wife is his sister, the rumors will fly all on their own.”
“I cannot control that.”
Jay inclined his head in acceptance. “I’m aware of that. However, you can refuse to add to them.”
“And what will you do for me in return?”
“I, or rather we, will not presume upon the connection. You may continue to nurse your own bitterness over something you cannot change in private, but if it spills over and causes Tina embarrassment or a moment’s uneasiness,” his voice hardened as he continued, “you will answer to me.”
Her eyes widened at his tone and a flicker of uncertainty appeared in the emerald depths. “I see.”
He studied her for a moment, then spoke before he could stop himself. “I wish you did.”
Her eyes hardened at the comment. “Pardon?”
“My wife and her brother are the only family you have left, yet you continue to live in the past, holding them responsible for a situation over which they had no control. Even so, Tina would welcome you with open arms should you take the first step. I, on the other hand, do not have the same generous capacity for forgiveness. You would do well to remember that.”
Confident his message had been understood, he rose from the sofa. “I am grateful to you, by the way,” he said as he did so.
The countess continued to stare up at him, her green eyes glittering. “Grateful to me? For what?”
“For ignoring your granddaughter, of course.”
She had no retort to that comment so he continued.
“Had you acted the part of a caring grandmother and brought her out once she was out of mourning, she would have been the toast of the town and could have had her pick of anyone. As it was, she settled for me, but I consider myself extremely fortunate on that score, as you will see tonight at the Westover ball. So you see, I am in your debt.”
The Gypsy Legacy: Marquis Page 21
