The Baron's Wife

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The Baron's Wife Page 17

by Maggi Andersen


  “They don’t know what happened to him yet.”

  “And probably won’t.” Cilla put the rag down.

  “We discovered his body at the base of the cliffs, in a similar spot to where Amanda had been found.”

  Cilla nodded, her hands in the pockets of her smock. “The tides, I expect.”

  “Did you see Mallory on Wolfram land? He was staying in the village at The Sail and Anchor.”

  “No.” Cilla raised her brows. “Let the police deal with it, Laura.”

  “That’s difficult though, isn’t it? This business affects Nathaniel.”

  “Mallory probably drank too much in the tavern and wandered around in the dark. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s drowned that way.”

  “Or he leapt to his death because of a broken heart?”

  “What a romantic you are.” Cilla grinned. “I came across Mallory once in the woods when I was picking wildflowers. Their colors are useful for my work. He had Mina, the maid at Wolfram at the time, up against a tree. Her blouse was open and her skirts hiked up around her waist. It must have pained her, that rough bark rubbing against the delicate skin of her back as he drove into her.”

  Laura flushed at her blatant description. “Do you think Mallory forced himself on her?”

  “No. She was mad about him.”

  “Was this before he and Amanda…created the rose arbor?”

  “I can’t remember.” She frowned. “What is this about, Laura?”

  “I want to understand what happened here,” Laura said, frustration causing her voice to tremble. “You don’t have the slightest suspicion how Amanda met her death?”

  The amusement fled from Cilla’s features, rendering her face pinched and rather plain. “No. I thought we were discussing Mallory.”

  “Mallory told me that Amanda was unhappy here.”

  “Amanda was a difficult woman to make happy. She wanted too much.” She shook her head. “This will be hard on Nathaniel. More fuel to add to the gossip mill.”

  Laura sucked in a sharp breath. “They can hardly blame him. Why should any of this fall on Nathaniel’s shoulders? Mallory had been to the police. He’d told them what he knew. An act of revenge perhaps. Or might he have withheld some guilty person’s name and that person killed him to keep him silent?”

  “You would make a good detective.” Cilla turned toward the door. “I’ll make us some tea.”

  Laura rubbed her arms as she strolled around the small sitting room. There was always so much to distract one here, from a delicate wildflower to a strangely shaped stone. A tiny likeness in an oval frame hung from a blue velvet ribbon on the wall. On closer inspection, the woman resembled Amanda as she was portrayed in Cilla’s painting at the abbey.

  Struck by a sudden thought, Laura whirled around. She moved quickly to the annex and, with a glance at the kitchen door, lifted the cloth which covered the painting. She gasped. A nude, fair-haired woman lay on a blue velvet chaise. Her expression seductive, she invited the viewer in with a tempting curl of her lovely lips. The position in which she lay reminded Laura of Titian’s Venus of Urbino. The woman held a posy of flowers in one hand, while the other rested at the top of her thighs hiding her sex. Lying beside her, incongruously, was a blue parasol with a pearl handle, the same umbrella that was in Amanda’s portrait. This work was unlike the rest of Cilla’s paintings, the fine detail lovingly wrought.

  Laura felt as if she’d glimpsed something intimate. Hearing the rattle of the tray, she dropped the cloth and turned to see Cilla staring at her.

  Scowling, Cilla placed the tray on the table. “I asked you not to look at my paintings until they were finished, Laura!” She shook her head. “You are so impatient. Why couldn’t you wait?”

  Laura was surprised by the force of Cilla’s reaction. She looked quite bereft. “I’m sorry, I’d forgotten.” She wondered if Cilla would ever have shown it to her. “It’s Amanda, isn’t it?”

  Cilla sank onto the sofa. She unloaded the tray. “Amanda was the perfect model. She fascinated me because, inside, she was nothing like she presented to the world.” She handed the cup to Laura. “Her beauty mesmerized one. So delicate of feature, so slender a body, and her skin…” She shook her head. “But inside she was as hard as those granite cliffs. I don’t believe she was capable of love.”

  Cilla constantly shocked her. Laura could never be sure what she would say next. “Do you think Amanda broke Nathaniel’s heart?”

  Cilla shrugged. “How should I know? He doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve.”

  “I just can’t see how Mallory fit into all this. If, as you say, Amanda didn’t care for him.”

  “Amanda was a flirt. She even tried to beguile Pitney, but she got nowhere with him. Mallory was just another of her conquests she used to her advantage. She had him eating out of her hand. I didn’t ask her how she went about it.”

  “But surely Amanda wouldn’t have encouraged Mallory. She was carrying Nathaniel’s child.”

  Cilla took a sip of tea. “I wondered if she really wanted to be a mother. She hated the way the pregnancy changed her body and made no secret of the fact.”

  Amanda might have felt uncomfortable and complained, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want her baby. Laura wondered if Cilla, so wrapped up in her art and not particularly maternal, might fail to understand a woman’s need for a child.

  “Have you been lonely? You seem so self-contained.”

  Cilla studied the painting on the easel. “I’m content to be alone most of the time. People demand too much from you. They’re exhausting.”

  “Amanda’s close association with Mallory must have angered Nathaniel.”

  “Nathaniel’s no fool. But he is a man. Amanda would have been able to get around him.”

  Laura pushed that unpalatable thought away.

  “Amanda spoke of employing a nanny and a governess until the child could be sent away to school,” Cilla said.

  Just like Nathaniel had been, Laura thought with a wrench. “She may well have become more settled and content after the child was born.”

  “Hmm. I doubt it. But we’ll never know.”

  “Did you accept the coroner’s verdict?” Laura asked.

  “That she grew dizzy and fell?” She put down her cup. “Seems the most logical. Although when I heard about the smugglers, it occurred to me that she may have stumbled onto something she shouldn’t have seen, and they dealt with her. As they may have done with Mallory.”

  Laura shivered. “Don’t they carry out their nefarious deeds at night?”

  “She may have angered someone else.”

  “Not many are given to acts of such violence.”

  Cilla shook her head. “That’s somewhat naïve, Laura,” she said dryly. “You can’t know what people are capable of.”

  Laura set down her cup. “I really came to tell you I’m leaving Wolfram after the dinner party. Nathaniel wishes me to stay with my parents until this business is dealt with.”

  “It will be good for you to get away for a while.”

  Laura put on her hat. “I must go. He might have need of me.”

  But for a black chough calling to its mate, the russet, gold and crimson woods were hushed and still, the scent of pine drifting in the air. Leaving the park, Laura approached the abbey. Sunlight sparkled off the pointed arch windows, turning the granite walls a warm apricot. It was so very beautiful here.

  It was difficult to be sure of anything Cilla said. The artist’s mood changed with alarming speed, and her view of the world was very different than Laura’s. But she couldn’t ignore what Cilla had said about Amanda. Could there possibly be any truth in it? It robbed her of breath to think Nathaniel had been cuckolded. What did he believe deep in his heart? Whether true or not, beneath the surface of Wolfram there was an undercurrent that poisoned all that was good.

  There would likely be an inquest into Mallory’s death. Laura didn’t want to leave Nathaniel to deal with it alone
. But he seemed resolute, and it would not be fair of her to insist on staying when he had enough to worry him.

  She had a sudden, desperate need for her aunt’s calming presence. Right now, Dora’s common sense would be of great help, although she doubted the Tarot would provide the answers to the problems at Wolfram.

  Perhaps like her, Nathaniel wished to blot out the gruesome scene they’d witnessed, for she found him busy with paperwork in his study. He looked up and smiled as she entered, the ledgers open on his desk as he totaled rows of figures. He had demanding properties and investments, which despite a secretary, an estate manager and an accountant in London, his personal attention to his affairs was constantly required.

  He sat back and smiled. “Was Cilla upset at the news?”

  “Not really. She disliked Mallory.”

  Laura struggled to understand Cilla. She’d thought she’d been a close friend of Amanda’s, but they seemed to have had a complicated friendship. Cilla had not been kind about her, but that was her acerbic, sharp-tongued nature. But at times Cilla could be very kind. Laura knew she couldn’t repeat any of this to Nathaniel. It wouldn’t solve anything and would upset him.

  On the open page, she spied the name Gateley Park, one of Nathaniel’s estates. He’d mentioned it briefly before. Compared to Wolfram he considered the house to be quite modern, as it was built in the late 18th century.

  As she leaned against the desk, he closed the book and turned in his chair to study her. “I’m sorry you had to see that grisly sight this morning. You must have been shocked. I should have given you brandy as well as Mrs. Madge. Are you all right now?”

  “Still a bit shaky.” She stroked the inlaid leather top on the mahogany desk.

  He frowned. “I’d prefer you to send Cilla a note rather than wander around the estate alone.” He took her hand. “We had words this morning. I dislike it when we do that.”

  “As do I, but sometimes something good comes from it. It can clear the air.”

  He kissed her fingers. “And did it? Clear the air?”

  Not entirely, but she wasn’t about to start another argument, not after what they’d witnessed and what Cilla had told her. She still reeled from shock at the suggestion the baby wasn’t Nathaniel’s. It was nonsense. Cilla had a love of the dramatic; that’s what made her a good artist. “Have I been unfair?”

  “A soul of patience, actually. I’ve been difficult to live with.” He pulled her down onto his lap. “My insistence on you leaving Wolfram has nothing to do with our marriage. Don’t think it’s because I don’t want you here.” He stroked her cheek. “You do know that, don’t you?”

  Laura ran her fingers through his silky dark hair, breathing in his familiar male smell. She took a deep breath. “I suspect you’re overly protective like my mother.”

  He gave a gruff laugh. “I’m like your mother now, am I? That can’t be good.” He kissed her nose. “Give me time, sweetheart.”

  He’d never said that before. It gave her hope for the future. She nestled her head against his shoulder, enjoying the comfort and safety his strong arms afforded her. This tenderness, however brief, was what she’d always wanted from him. Frustrated, she wished he wouldn’t send her away, but she knew begging him would be useless. “I’ll miss you, darling.”

  “I trust it won’t be for too long.”

  “What is going to happen while I’m gone?”

  His arms settled tightly around her waist. “I’m confident we’ll find Mallory’s killer and round up the rest of the gang. I suspect a member of the staff here at Wolfram.”

  “Not long after he came here, I heard Mallory talking to one of the grooms down by the seawall when I’d gone for a walk at dusk.”

  “Who was he?”

  “I don’t know, but Mallory sounded like he was giving him orders.”

  “We suspect he was, sweetheart.”

  “You’re convinced Mallory was murdered?”

  “The postmortem will confirm my view.”

  “You promise to be very careful, Nathaniel.”

  “I will.”

  “Will you miss me while I’m away?”

  “How can you ask that?” His thumb beneath her chin, he lifted her face, and with a deep intake of breath, pressed his mouth to hers. When he drew away, his eyes, which could be a steely gray, were a soft gray-blue like the Wolfram sky after rain. “Not having you here will be a penance.”

  His kisses usually made her thoughts scatter, but at the word he used, her senses came alert. Did he believe he needed to be punished? For what? “Penance is an odd word.”

  “The wrong word, perhaps.” Nathaniel rose and set her on her feet. “I could have done things differently. But I can still put much to rights given time. I’m keen to do so.”

  He sounded as if he wished her gone already. She studied the ledger on his desk again. “I’ll visit Aunt Dora after I see my parents. Is Gateley Park leased?”

  Nathaniel arched his eyebrows. “No.” He framed her face with his hands. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

  “I’d like to see the property.” Could Gateley Park give up secrets about this enigmatic husband of hers?

  “Gateley Park was my grandparents’ home. My mother grew up there. I haven’t been back for a few years.”

  She gasped. “Why not?”

  His expression became shuttered, black lashes lowered. “I’ve had no reason to.”

  “Is it in a good state of repair?”

  “My man of business assures me it is.”

  She ignored the warning in his voice and pressed on, determined to have her way with this at least. “It might be pleasant to spend a few days there.”

  He rubbed his brow. “I’ve no idea why you would want to visit an empty house.”

  She smiled. “Perhaps it’s more about not wishing to spend too long under my parents’ roof.”

  His mouth twitched. He understood her feelings at least. “The carriage is at your disposal. Will your aunt accompany you? There’s only a small village within miles of the property. You’ll be thin of company.”

  “I do hope to persuade Aunt Dora to leave her beloved London.”

  The furrow in his forehead deepened. “Please urge her to on my behalf.” Nathaniel picked up the pen on his desk. “Now, my love, if you’ll excuse me, I must get this work done before I ride into the village.”

  The next morning, Laura rose and breakfasted alone. She’d been pleased when Nathaniel talked frankly, expressing his concerns about the smugglers. None of the house staff were involved he assured her, not wishing her to be nervous in the house.

  But they still didn’t know who visited Amanda’s bedchamber. Laura suspected Rudge, but Nathaniel was caught up working closely with the constable. The head of the smuggling ring who’d orchestrated it all from London had been arrested, and the police were confident they would round up the rest of the gang.

  Nathaniel had driven to the police station in Penzance that morning. Not long after he returned, he and Hugh had left to ride over the estate. Laura stiffened with shock when she’d overheard two maids gossiping on the stairs. The carriage had suffered another rock attack on the way home.

  As soon as Nathaniel returned, she hurried out to speak to him.

  “Just a pebble,” he said. “Children most likely.” A muscle quivered at his jaw. “Please don’t fuss, Laura.”

  Frustrated, she returned to her work readying two guest chambers for the dinner party, in case the weather turned bad.

  She paused from sorting a pile of linen. Why would anyone suspect Nathaniel of these nefarious deeds? It made no sense.

  Because he wished her to stay close to the house, Laura occupied herself with the birthday dinner. It proved the perfect distraction from what was going on around her. Mrs. Madge, eager to take her mind off the loss of her son, threw herself into the matter at hand. She proposed several dishes for the menu, determined to try her hand at something new and exotic. She confessed to having
discussed the menu with Rudge, but if he contributed anything, it didn’t reach Laura’s ears. Laura sensed his outrage because she’d chosen the wines. She’d begun to feel it was foolish of her to alienate him by usurping his position and went to broach the matter with him. She found him in the butler’s pantry polishing the silver.

  “A moment of your time, please, Rudge.”

  “Of course, my lady.”

  Rudge followed her to the morning room. He stood before her desk wearing his usual severe expression.

  “I would appreciate your opinion of my wine selection.” She handed him her list. “I chose my father’s favorite wines, but tastes may differ in a warmer climate.” She smiled. “And you would be more familiar with the tastes of those here than I.”

  Rudge scanned the list in his formal manner. “A Rhine wine might be added, my lady.”

  “Oh, yes, I hadn’t thought of it. Excellent suggestion.”

  Rudge bowed his head.

  “If there’s anything else you’d like to add, please do.”

  “I will, my lady. I shall return to the silver, if that is all?”

  “Yes, that is all, thank you, Rudge.”

  Must the man be so obstinate? Nothing had improved between them. Shrugging, she left the house in search of the gardener. It would be a challenge to find suitable floral arrangements for the table decoration now that autumn was upon them. Perhaps some hot house blooms would be in flower.

  On the morning of the dinner party, Nathaniel entered Laura’s bedchamber as she held up her gown before the mirror. She had hoped to surprise him, but he’d surprised her instead. “Do you approve of my choice?” She turned for him to view the silver-blue satin and chiffon evening gown.

  “I like the gown, but it is more suited to our Paris sojourn, perhaps.” Nathaniel leaned back against the bedpost. “Something a little simpler for this occasion?”

  Pleased to have his interest, Laura laid the gown on the bed and with a smile, sashayed closer to her husband. She placed her hands on his chest. “Do you remember we were to visit Paris this autumn?”

  His eyes clouded. “I know. I’m disappointed too, sweetheart. As soon as this business is at an end, we will, I promise.”

 

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