Felix stormed through the house in search of his father, running him to earth in his dressing room. The earl took one look at his son’s distraught face, dismissed his valet, and suggested to Felix that they repair to the library. Once there, Felix waved Saskia’s note under his father’s nose.
“Where is she, Father?”
“Gone.”
“I was able to comprehend that that much, but where?”
“Home to Swyre.”
“But why?” he asked bleakly.
“She gave no reason that rang true.” He held up a hand to silence Felix’s protest. “Not when she came to me early this morning requesting transport to Plymouth.”
“She’s only gone to Plymouth then?” A combination of relief and hope surged through him, only to be dashed by his father’s reply.
“No, Felix. She’s returned to Swyre. She said that she’d received an urgent summons from her aunt. I didn’t believe her, but thought her decision was more than likely the response to yet another spat between the two of you. I deemed it better not to interfere, but I insisted that she travel all the way in the barouche.”
“Why did you not inform me before she left?”
“I tried to, but you weren’t about…and Saskia was in such a rush to leave that I ran out of ways to detain her.”
“I went out riding early,” Felix said, slapping the crop he still held in his hand against his boot in frustration. “I couldn’t rest until I received Saskia’s answer, which she had promised me today.” He paused, before adding bitterly. “It seems that I now have it.”
“Should you have been riding, with your injuries?”
Felix, an expert horseman, shrugged. “Perhaps not, although not for the reasons you’re implying.”
“I think I’ve found out why she left.”
Felix’s head snapped up. “Tell me!”
“Did you not notice last night that she was less popular than hitherto?”
“No, I can’t say that I did. I was enjoying her company too much to take much notice of anything else. I did see that less people were seeking her out, but I thought I was the cause of their discouragement.”
“Not exactly.” The earl stood up, obviously taking the time to choose his words with care. “I’m afraid the blame lies with Snelling.”
“What!” Felix shot to his feet.
“Calm down, Felix, and let me tell you it all. As soon as I’d seen Saskia and the twins safely on their way, I determined to discover what it was that had frightened her away. I ascertained from her demeanour — which, by the way, was exceedingly bleak — that it wasn’t anything you’d done to upset her after all. But from an idle remark she made, I got the impression that your mother was somehow behind it all.”
“But you just said that Snelling — ”
“I know. Just be patient and listen, Felix. I went in search of your mother and asked her if she’d said anything to frighten Saskia away. Of course, she claimed ignorance, but couldn’t hide her satisfaction at the turn events had taken. I wasn’t in the mood for her nonsense this morning and insisted that she enlighten me as to the substance of the conversation she shared with Saskia last night.”
The earl straightened his cuffs, his expression grim. “Well, Snelling, it seems, desired more than an idle dalliance with Saskia. He developed quite a yen for her over the course of the week. He was confident that she returned his feelings and would agree to be set up as his mistress.”
“The bastard!”
“Easy, Felix. You know very well she would never have agreed.”
“I should think not.” Felix contemplated matters for a moment. “But, Father, I thought Snelling was on a repairing lease?”
“He’s obviously not as badly placed as the rumourmongers would have us believe. But, as I was saying, his wish to have her under his protection accounts for his determination to get her alone. He wanted to convince her that he would take responsibility for her and her children.”
“And he told mother all of this?”
“No, of course not. But,” added the earl grimly, “he told me, in not so many words, when I sought him out this morning, after gaining your mother’s intelligence. It seems that when you interrupted him in the rose garden, it dawned on him for the first time just how much he wanted her, and he was furious that she had the audacity to reject him.” The earl glowered. “When Smithers was here a couple of days before you came home, Snelling came upon us when we were discussing the events in Burton Bradstock. There being no further need for secrecy, I didn’t mind him knowing some of the particulars, but what I didn’t realise was that he made the connection between Saskia and Barker.”
“God’s teeth, he can’t have!” Felix’s shook his head decisively. “The damage that sort of scandal could inflict doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“Exactly. And during the dance last night he spitefully put the word about that Saskia was the daughter of, and in league with, a smuggler of slaves. He doubtless hoped to put an end to your obvious attraction to her, and leave the field free for himself.”
Felix paced, too angry and agitated to stand still. “But why did she just go like that? She knew I wanted to marry her, and that I didn’t give a damn about her background.”
“She probably thought she was being noble, saving you from your own impetuous nature. I’m afraid that your mother, although she’s reluctant to admit to the crime, took great delight in informing her of the rumours that were circulating. It would have brought it home to Saskia just what an alliance with her would do to your family’s social standing, you see, and she presumably considered that you wouldn’t now wish to make the sacrifice.”
“Oh no, I must go after her and put her straight at once!” Felix felt almost relieved, confident that it could all be sorted out.
“Indeed you must, but not yet. There are two more days to go with this wretched house party. See it through, and allow Saskia time for reflection.”
Felix sighed. “Must I?”
“I think it would be for the best. Apart from anything else, Saskia may see things differently when she’s been back in familiar surroundings for a few days.”
“Maybe.” Felix wasn’t convinced. There was only one way to persuade her, and it couldn’t be achieved from a distance. “But you can’t seriously expect me to spend a further two days in Snelling’s company, pretending to be polite? I told him what would happen if he attempted to interfere with Saskia.”
“Snelling,” said the earl with a grim smile, “suddenly remembered that he had urgent business elsewhere, after our discussion this morning. He left half-an-hour ago.”
“I see. Well, all right then, I’ll stay, provided I am not expected to be civil to Mother.”
“It would have helped if you hadn’t given Saskia your grandmother’s locket until things were formally settled between you.”
“Yes, I suppose so, but I wanted Saskia to have it so much that I just didn’t think about the consequences.”
The next two days crawled by. Felix couldn’t have said afterwards how he occupied his time. Barely on speaking terms with his mother, he allowed himself to be manipulated into escorting Lady Maria into dinner, playing cards at the same table as her, driving her and her mother about the grounds. He squired her in a perfunctory manner, his mind on anything but his fair companion. But Lady Western could detect none of his inner feelings and was completely taken in by the seemingly fastidious attentions he paid toward Lady Maria. She tolerated her son’s bad humour, sure that it was a transitory affair, and now that the dreadful Eden woman had left she was confident that he would finally come to his senses, see reason and do his duty by his family.
Finally the last carriage, carrying Lady Maria and her mother, left Western Hall. Lady Western was profuse in her expectations that they would see Maria at their home again very soon. She looked smugly pleased with herself as she exchanged a knowing smile with Maria’s mother and waved the carriage away.
First thing the f
ollowing morning Felix was in the box seat of the fastest travelling chase that his father owned, four prime goers between the shafts. He was, of course, on the road to Swyre, and this time he didn’t even take Perkins with him. The business which he had to conduct didn’t require the attentions of a valet.
Saskia hesitated on the landing, hand on the door to the bedroom she hadn’t entered for over six years. She was in Southview Manor, alone. Her brother Gerald had driven her over and offered to stay, but she’d sent him away. She had something she wished to do, and she needed privacy in which to do it.
The customs’ men had thoroughly searched the house, their less than careful attention to their duty obvious everywhere she looked, but they’d been unable to find any evidence linking her father to the ghastly trade of slave smuggling. Saskia didn’t know whether to be relieved or angered by their lack of success. As it was, she’d been granted permission to call at the house and collect a few of the personal possessions which still remained in her old room.
Most of the staff had been dismissed, some taking up the offer of employment at Riverside House; only the housekeeper remained. Saskia had chosen to call on a day when she knew that the old lady, once so well-known to her, wouldn’t be in the house. The effort of maintaining a cheerful attitude at her aunt’s establishment was starting to tell upon her, and the temptation to steal a few hours by herself had been compelling.
There were two customs’ men guarding the front of the house, but she’d been permitted to enter and could now enjoy the solitude she so sought. She felt the stillness of the house closing around her and shivered, expecting her father at any moment to burst upon her and demand to know what she thought she was about. Shaking off such gloomy thoughts, she opened the door to her chamber and stepped inside.
It was much as it had been when she left it, except for the obvious signs of the recent search. She felt confident, however, that they wouldn’t have found her secret hiding place, and was proved right when she heaved the table beside her bed to one side and lifted the corner of the rug. It was the work of a moment to remove the still-familiar loose floorboards and grope gingerly about in the gap below, searching for the Hessian bag she prayed would still be concealed there.
Relieved at locating the sack without difficulty, Saskia hauled her prize onto the bed and sat down beside it, smiling with satisfaction. Her hiding place had been the only secret she’d ever been able to keep from her father, and she had treasured it. Opening the sack reverently, Saskia withdrew a packet of letters tied together with a ribbon, written to her at various times during her childhood by her mother. The sight of her mother’s elegantly curving hand caused Saskia’s eyes to mist, but she dashed the tears impatiently away and put the bundle of letters firmly to one side. She would take them back to Riverside House and read them again when she was feeling less sensitive.
Next, she extracted a thick pouch and poured the contents onto the bed. Pieces of jewellery given to her over the years spilled forth. Some had belonged to her mother, and although of no intrinsic value, they were precious to her. She allowed the strands of beads to slide through her fingers, dust motes hovering above the shiny facets, and smiled at the memories the sight of them evoked. They were happy memories for once: her mother, laughing as she danced with her father the year before she died, these very same crystal beads sparkling about her neck; her mother smiling indulgently, wearing that mother-of-pearl brooch, as Saskia failed in her attempts to master the finer intricacies of embroidery.
A bundle of her childhood diaries tumbled from the sack next. She recalled painstakingly recording every detail of her daily routine in a childish hand, encouraged by her mother. The habit had never left her, and she kept a diary still, even to this day.
There were items of baby clothing, which had been the twins’ first garments. Assorted other treasures brought memories flooding back: her first music books, scraps of lace retained from gowns long since outgrown, a handkerchief made for her by her mother. Tears flooded her eyes as she handled each memento lovingly, wishing now that her childhood — the idyllic part before her mother’s death — could have lasted forever.
Saskia dried her eyes and pulled herself together. This wouldn’t do. She was ridiculously relieved that her treasure-trove had remained intact, safe from her father’s all- seeing eyes. Knowing that she’d scored this one little victory over him bolstered her confidence. Crying had helped, too, but she was uncertain whether she crying for the lost innocence of her youth, for the heart rending regret that was Felix, or simply because she felt sorry for herself.
Bundling the last of her treasures back into the sack, she encountered a small ledger, bound in black leather, which wasn’t familiar to her. She opened it and exclaimed aloud. It was filled with her father’s scrawled handwriting. It was impossible for her to say what the book contained, for her eyes were once again full of tears — this time tears of rage.
So, even her secret hiding place hadn’t been safe from him. She felt as though he’d just violated her all over again.
Calm at last, and determined to banish all thoughts of her father’s tyranny, Saskia continued to reacquaint herself with her treasures. So intent upon the task was she, that she didn’t realize she was no longer alone until a voice from the open doorway made her start violently.
“You, Mrs. Eden, are one devilishly difficult lady to catch up with.”
Looking up, Saskia gasped. “You!”
“Who else were you expecting?” Lord Snelling asked, strolling into the room. “Not Western? You don’t imagine that he had a serious attachment to you, surely? Western is known for his peccadilloes. Angelica Priestley is just the latest in a long line.” He saw the shock on Saskia’s face and laughed nastily. “Oh, don’t take offence, m’dear, I’m sure he found you attractive enough. But even if he was serious he could hardly offer for you now the truth about you is out, could he?” Snelling was prancing, cat-like, across the expanse that separated them, his eyes shining with very obvious intent. Saskia was suddenly afraid. To be alone in a bed-chamber with him, after everything she’d learned about his character? The consequences didn’t bear thinking about.
“Why did you do that to me?” she asked haughtily.
“Tell the truth about you, do you mean?” He shrugged. “You left me with no alternative, m’dear. Had you but listened to my generous and very reasonable proposition in the rose garden, it wouldn’t have been necessary. And so, you see, you brought it all on yourself.”
As Saskia looked up at him her spine tingled with fear…a fear which slowly crept through the rest of her body. There was something about the look in his eye, about the confidence beneath his studied nonchalance, that made her realize it wouldn’t be so easy to reject him this time. He was dangerous, accustomed to getting what he wanted. There could be no doubting that, for some reason, what he wanted was her. The naked hunger in his eyes was all the proof she needed to confirm her fears in that respect.
Saskia’s room was at the back of the house. Even if she screamed, the customs men out front wouldn’t hear her. Her only way out was to talk to him, she supposed, and to try to charm him into being reasonable.
“Well, I’m listening now, my lord. What did you wish to say to me?”
“That’s more like it.” He stopped in front of her and tilted her chin upwards, compelling her to look into his face. The feel of his fingers on her skin was abhorrent, but she forced herself not to shudder. “Now, m’dear, when I first saw you I had in mind just a short dalliance, but your spirited resistance is a challenge I find irresistible, and has endeared you to me. So I propose to set you up in London with a nice house, money, and education for your children.”
“Why would you do something so kind?”
Lord Snelling looked at her askance. “You honestly don’t understand.” He threw back his head and laughed. “M’dear, you’re charming!” When she still stared at him blankly, he had the goodness to explain. “You will be under my protection.”
“Nooooo!” Saskia couldn’t help it. She was shocked and appalled by the very suggestion and the outraged denial slipped from her lips before she could prevent it.
Snelling’s attitude changed to one of soft persuasion. “Come, come, m’dear, don’t imagine you can increase the stakes by pretending to be shocked. Besides, what’s your alternative?”
“To live here, just as I’ve always done.”
“What, in this backwater? I do not think so; that would be such a waste.” His voice was a soft purr as he took a step closer. “Just think of the splendid life you could live in London…all the time you continue to please me, that is.”
“Never!”
The disgust, the contemptuous vehemence of Saskia’s tone, engendered another abrupt change in Snelling’s mood. In a blind rage he lunged for her, but Saskia had been expecting something of the sort, and was ready for him. She employed her knee, just as she’d told Felix she’d intended to do in the Rose Garden. At the same time gouged her nails across his hateful face as viciously as she could manage.
He howled as he stumbled toward her. “You little bitch!” Then, inexplicably, a slow smile spread across his face. “So, that’s the way you want to play it?”
He continued to advance upon her, his eyes never leaving her face, his expression one of lustful anticipation. The floorboards Saskia had removed to access her treasures were still out of place, and Snelling, mindless of where he was walking, placed his foot plumb into the centre of the hole. He pulled it out with a feral growl and continued to advance. If he felt any pain he wasn’t making it evident, appearing to be more aroused than ever by her resistance. Saskia, now backed helplessly against the wall, looked frantically about, but there was nowhere else for her to go.
Wendy Soliman Page 22
