Edward’s eyes seemed to plead from the caverns of their thinly fleshed sockets, begging them to understand. “I pushed him away an’ his heel caught on a rug, an’ he went down like a stone, hittin’ his head on the hearth with a good, solid thump. He were bleedin’ as much as a cut hen, he were, an’ then I heard ye, Seymour, comin’ down the hall, an’ I slipped out onta the porch.” Edward paused and stared at the quilt where his feet made twin peaks. He would not meet their eyes, but only nodded in distant contemplation. “Aye, ‘twas meself what caused the deed ta happen.”
“The man was alive when I knelt beside him,” Maxim explained. “Why do you say you were responsible?”
“If we hadn’t scuffled, or if I hadn’t fled when ye heard me on the gallery, he might not’ve been stabbed later. He seemed a man well able ta care o’ himself, an’ surely after the deed was done . . . had you been there by his side . . . he’d not have been killed. Aye, I was the one responsible, ‘at I was.”
“If you’re seeking absolution for the deed of murder, Edward, ‘tis not your sin to bear,” Maxim assured him. “You told a lie against me to clear yourself, but what you meant for evil has been turned to my good, so all is forgiven. I can only think that a far wiser hand than yours or mine directed the events, and I shall ever be grateful because it has happened.”
“What’ll ye do now?” the elder wheezed.
“The Queen has given my title and estates back to me. I shall be returning to Bradbury on the morn.”
“ ‘Twould seem that I won’t be livin’ long enough ta enjoy it anyway.” Edward heaved a deep sigh, relieved that his conscience had been cleansed on all accounts, and then he grimaced and clutched his belly with both hands. “Oh, Cassy . . . Cassy!” He rolled from side to side, and his voice grew strained with pain. “Where is me fair Cassandra? Why has she not been at me side these past days?”
“Uncle Edward.” Elise laid a gentle hand upon his am. “Do you not know what she’s done to you?”
“Aye, I know it well!” Her uncle writhed in agony as a dappling of sweat broke from his pores. Rubbing his forehead with bony knuckles, he ground the words out through tightly clenched teeth. “She held me head ta her soft bosom when the knives o’ hell tore at me belly. She eased me ailment an’ even brought a good tonic for me. Aye! The tonic!” He raised a scrawny arm to indicate a small, dark green vial on the nightstand. “Pass me the tonic, girl.”
Elise lifted the tiny decanter to the light and watched the thick, yellowish ichor that swirled inside. She drew the cork and sniffed cautiously, then held it away, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Maxim stepped near and, removing the glass vial from Elise’s grasp, put a finger over the opening, tipped it, and inspected the spot on his finger. Ever so lightly he touched his tongue to the drop. His mouth twisted in sharp distaste and, passing the tiny bottle back to his wife, he took a cloth to wipe it across his lips and tongue. He bent and took a close look at Edward’s pallid face, noting the bluish tinge around the eyes, and examined his hands and the fingertips that bore the same hue.
“Whether or nay you were a student of Aristotle’s works, or Pliny the Elder’s, ‘twould have made no difference, Edward. I doubt if you’d have known what I think this vial contains. The crystals that make this bitter vetch are sometimes found in the iron mines in Germany. I’ve heard that a few women have drunk a concoction of the stuff to make their skins pale and white, but ‘tis a dangerous bane that can cause death.”
“A pox ‘pon the two o’ ye! Me own sweet Cassandra would never . . . Why, she vowed ‘twas the same tonic she plied on her first hus . . .” Edward’s words came slowly to a halt as he considered the fate of her first spouse, and his jaw sagged. Even his simple mind caught the strings and wove them together. “But why?”
Elise laid a gentle hand on her uncle’s arm and rubbed it consolingly. “Do you remember signing a marriage settlement with her the day you both were wed?”
The wispy brows drew together in a perplexed frown. “Vaguely I remember signin’ me name to the nuptials, but there weren’t no settlement between us.”
“Cassandra claims she has such a document within her possession,” Elise informed him. “You must have signed it without realizing it.”
“What might it say?” he asked, painfully conscious that there had been times of drunken revelry from which he had awakened the next morning without any awareness of what he had done.
“It gives Cassandra the right to inherit all of your possessions,” his niece answered simply.
“Be damned! She’ll not!” Catching hold of Elise’s arm, he struggled to rise. “I’ll have no such deceit in me family!”
Maxim laid a hand upon the thin shoulder and pressed the man back upon the pillows. ‘Tis best that you conserve your strength for Arabella’s sake, Edward. You’ll need to draw up a settlement leaving her as the sole heir of your properties.”
“Send me a barrister,” Edward pleaded weakly. “An’ be quick ’bout it.” Then the elder frowned and grew thoughtful. “Why, I’ll have nary a coin ta leave me daughter after ye take back yer estates.” His brows lifted in a tiny shrug. “I needn’t fret. She’s got wealth o’ her own. Reland left her all o’ his lands an’ treasures. He did well by her, ‘at he did.”
Maxim and Elise retired to her chambers, and the door was locked securely behind them. Leaning back against its planks, he brought her close within the circle of his arms and kissed her with all the fervor of his pent-up passions. His fingers freed her hair, and the silken tresses tumbled in loose curls about her shoulders. Her gown was plucked open and, along with her petticoats, was pushed with a rustle of silk to the floor. With a coy smile Elise lifted her arms beneath the curling auburn strands, raising them off her shoulders as she backed away from the lustful leer gleaming in her husband’s eyes. While his hands made haste to rid himself of his garments, his gaze ranged hungrily over the full length of her. He anticipated the overflow of her swelling bosom from her chemise, and he could not help but admire those curving hips as she dropped the farthingale and strolled leisurely toward the lamp.
“Don’t blow it out,” he urged, tossing aside his shirt and doublet. “I’ve a desire to refresh my memory.”
“Have you forgotten so much then?” Elise teased him with a sultry look as she slipped a silken arm from the lace strap of her chemise.
A wayward grin tugged at his lips. “Your image is forged on my mind forever, madam. Never fear that I’ll forget you.”
Stepping out of his breeches, he became the recipient of her warming gaze as she eyed the manly fullness beneath the stockings. With purposeful strides he moved to stand close before her. His eyes burned into hers for a long, intense moment before he reached up and tugged down the other strap. Leaning down, he touched his lips to the lustrous softness of her shoulder and drew a sigh of pleasure from her lips as his kisses descended with leisured slowness to her breast. The garment tumbled to the floor, and her breath stilled in blissful wonder as the warm wetness flicked across a soft peak, then she found herself being swept up in her husband’s arms. The bed awaited, and their lips blended as he laid her beneath him. She welcomed his warmth within her and responded to his manly thrusts with all the vigor of a woman impassioned with the fullest measure of love.
The night was filled with similar adventures, and when the first light of morn came, Elise snuggled her head beneath a pillow and refused to answer the light rap that sounded on the door.
“Mistress? Be ye awake? Ye asked me ta rouse ye an’ the master early so ye can be off ta Bradbury ere the morn is past. I’ve brought food for ye.”
Elise’s reluctant groan was muffled against the mattress, and Maxim gave a soft chuckle as he tossed a quilt over her. Donning a robe, he answered the summons himself and, accepting the serving platter from the maid, leaned a shoulder against the door to close it.
“Come, my love,” he coaxed, setting the tray on the bed between them. “I’m anxious to be home. You can sleep in the ba
rge on the way upriver.”
He reached across and fondly patted the coverlet where it followed the curve of her backside. He smiled as his memory wandered back to the preceding hours, and his thoughts warmed with the images that drifted through his head. When it was the inclination of more than a few women to turn away from their conjugal duties with vague disinterest, Elise was proving herself as eager as he to explore the ever-expanding reaches of love. She was most comfortable with their intimacy, even displaying a trend toward boldness, which only heightened his desire and pleasure. Truly, no mere mistress could have captured his heart so deftly, nor so securely. He was totally infatuated with his young wife.
“Come, love, you must take nourishment after such a night just past,” he urged teasingly. “There’s marinated salmon, curds, cream, and banbury cakes.” He leaned over and lifted a corner of the pillow to peek beneath it. One eye peered back at him through the tangled tresses masking her face. He laughed aloud when she groaned again and nestled deeper in the covers.
“For shame, sir,” she muttered. “After following you in hot pursuit all night long, I’ve not the strength to dine, dress, and depart this place. I pray thee, be not so cruel. Let me slumber a few moments longer ‘til I’ve regained my ambition. Am I not carrying your child? Does that not deserve some consideration?”
Maxim fondly caressed the roundness beneath the quilt again and grinned. “Your arguments have won me over. There’s naught I can say against them. Therefore, madam, it shall be my very great pleasure to let you sleep until I get dressed. Would you be vexed if I called for a bath?”
“I’d enjoy it,” she grumbled, pulling the pillow down again to shut out the morning light.
Maxim set aside the tray, choosing to wait until he could share the morning meal with her. Pulling the draperies closed about the bed to allow his wife some privacy, he bade the servants to bring up water for a bath and was soon enjoying the fruits of their labor.
Finally rousing herself to some awareness, Elise stumbled sleepily from the bed and approached the tub, brushing the long, curling strands back from her face. The beauty of her sleek, naked form bathed in the rosy glow of morning light commanded Maxim’s undivided attention, and when she halted beside him to bestow a light kiss upon his lips, he was more than willing to have her stay a moment. Wrapping a wet arm about her, he held her there as he savored a more lengthy kiss.
Of a sudden and without warning, the hall door swung open, and an excited Arabella announced her presence with a flood of words spilling from her lips. “Elise, I just heard the news! My dear friend rode over bright and early this morn to tell me! Maxim is back . . .”
Her voice trailed off, and she stumbled to a halt as her attention came full upon the couple. Totally shocked by the scene that greeted her, she could only gawk in stunned confusion. Elise was too startled to move, and with a rueful grin, Maxim gave comment as he met Arabella’s horrified stare.
“I think I should’ve taken more care to lock the door.”
“What’s going on here?” Arabella cried.
“What does it look like?” Maxim swept his hand about as if there was a need to direct her attention to what she saw. “I’m taking a bath, and my wife was about to join me.”
“Your wife?” The woman nearly screamed the words at him. “But you loved me! Did you not come last year to take me back with you?”
“I did,” Maxim admitted. “But my men took Elise by mistake.”
Self-consciously Arabella dragged the top of her dressing gown closer over her bosom, for the nakedness beneath the long auburn hair brutally brought to mind a realization of her own thinness, which in the past months had become even more pronounced. She could find no evidence to deny her rival’s blooming beauty and was much relieved when Elise sought the covering of a robe.
Still, she stubbornly refused to accept that Maxim’s love for her had faded because of a foolish mistake. “I’m aware of what happened, but I thought you would have honored your love for me and stayed true instead of taking . . . this . . . this . . .”
“Be careful what you say, Arabella,” Maxim warned with a gathering scowl. “The blame belongs to me, and I’ll hear no slander against Elise. She was an innocent in all of this.”
“Innocent?” Arabella scoffed, striding forward angrily. “Well, it would seem the innocent little slut fell willingly enough into your bed!” Her eyes touched upon his wide shoulders and dipped boldly into the water, seeking the full view of the man, for it was suddenly evident to her that beside the burliness of her late husband, Maxim Seymour would have seemed as handsome as a golden-skinned god.
Lifting a challenging brow, Maxim deliberately dropped a hand between his thighs and quipped, “Whatever you find, Arabella, already belongs to Elise.”
His statement seemed to set Arabella off again, and she turned an accusing glare upon the other woman. “She stole from me! She took my place! She had no right!”
“What right have you to stand there and accuse us?” Maxim barked, growing incensed at her reasoning. Snatching up a towel to cover himself from her relentlessly searching gaze, he heaved himself up out of the water and wrapped the cloth about his hips.
Arabella stared at him slack-jawed. “But I was your betrothed.”
“How quickly you forget, Countess!” He jeered the title in contempt. “You’re now the widow of Reland Huxford. You annulled whatever agreement we had between us by marrying him. You indulged yourself a day or less mourning for me and in a matter of a week’s time were betrothed to him!”
“Your death was only one of many sorrows I had been through,” Arabella lamented sadly. “I’m a woman tormented by misfortune! All my suitors lost to me by tragedies, and even now, my own father lies a-dying in his bed.”
Maxim considered her a lengthy moment, gaining a new perspective into the woman’s character. He remembered the many times she had deliberately drawn attention to the unusual number of tragedies she had had to endure, and her bent toward dramatics when others had expressed their sympathies to her or whenever anyone reminded her of her misfortunes had always bothered him. Oft were the times she had gained her way with her father by displaying a case of the vapors or a fit of depression, from which she had always been able to emerge in amazingly good spirits.
“I rather suspect you’ve come to revel in those tragedies, Arabella,” he responded at last, “or at least the attention you’ve gleaned from them. I never saw you happier than when you were coddled and indulged through those times. You’ve a strange need for attention, but I’m no longer the one to appease it.”
He took Elise within the circle of his arms and gave the shattered woman a level stare. “Whatever we had, Arabella, is now as dead as your suitors. Elise is the only woman I’ve ever promised to love ‘til death do us part. ‘Tis an easy thing to do with her. She’ll be the mother of my children, and I’ll give her honor every day of my life. Together we shall endeavor to forget that this encounter with you ever happened.”
Almost in a daze Arabella left the room and wandered down the hall, leaving Maxim to gently close the door behind her. He shook his head, for even now he felt a sorrow for the woman. She did indeed have a craving in her life that no man could appease.
Chapter 30
SPRING HAD GRACED the grounds of Bradbury Hall with an abundance of flowers. They filled every garden and bordered every walk, lavishly spreading a vivid array of colors across the spacious lawns and in the carefully tended beds of the courtyard. From a distance the blossoms could not be thoroughly appreciated, nor could the air that was heady with their fragrance. Elise had been at Bradbury a week short a day, and still she delighted in venturing out to admire the beauty of the house and grounds. Though the manor had opened its doors to Nicholas, Justin, and the knights, Sherbourne and Kenneth, she still found an hour or so each morning to spend outside at some gardening chore or another. She donned skirts, blouses, and laced bodices that copied the simplicity of peasant garb, yet were themselves
fresh bouquets of delicate spring hues. Wide-brimmed hats with long ribbon streamers not only framed the beauty of her face and complemented her gowns, but gave service in shading her creamy skin from the sun. To be sure, she drew more admiring glances than the flowers she tended.
Maxim was like a man slowly unwinding as the tensions that had oppressed him began to diminish and fade. His laughter came easier now and was heard more often. He pleasured himself in the good camaraderie of his friends, in the loving attentions of his wife, and in the sheer joy of being home. Oft were the occasions when he strolled through the gardens with Elise. Usually when he was home, where one was seen, the other would not be very far away. Still, when some minor duty called him away, he would hasten back with an eagerness that set Eddy’s hooves flying. Never having felt such consuming devotion stirring within his heart before, he luxuriated in the warmth of their uncommon companionship and was always impatient to resume their affair with love in the master’s chambers.
It was on a Wednesday morn when a coach and four rumbled up the drive with an escort of two mounted riders. Elise was gathering flowers in a basket to make a bouquet for the house when the well-appointed, wagon-like conveyance and its accompaniment of horsemen came smartly up the lane to halt before the manor. A footman jumped down and, opening the door, reached up a hand to lend assistance to the elderly lady who emerged. She was white of hair, thin of frame, small of stature, and walked with the aid of a cane, but she was as elegant and well-garbed as any woman half her age and more. A crisp, lace-edged ruff adorned the deep green gown she wore, and a pert, plumed cap of the same hue sat jauntily upon her charmingly coiffured head. Her blue eyes were alert and bright, and as Elise approached, they settled on her with an eagerness that was unmistakable.
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