by Candace Camp
“Money.” Oliver shrugged. “Besides, she thought she wouldn’t get caught. All the things he asked her to do, at least up until this last, were secret—putting laudanum in your soup at the inn, stealing the case, staying in sick one day in the hope that you lot would take advantage of the freedom to go wandering. She believed that if she did them well, she wouldn’t get found out. Even last night, she probably hoped to pretend that she had been duped as well.”
“She arranged for us to go down to the tarn that day when he tried to take Rose?” Camellia asked.
“She gave you the opportunity. I feel sure Suttersby reasoned that four spirited girls, released from their arduous lessons, would go exploring somewhere. They set up the situation and watched.” The earl was silent for a moment, toying with his fork. Then, his eyes on his finger as it traced the whorls on the handle of the fork, he said conversationally, “Mr. Suttersby mentioned another participant. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of him—Cosmo Glass.” He raised his head and looked at Mary and Royce.
The Bascombes drew in their breaths sharply. Charlotte and Fitz looked puzzled.
“You might have told me, Royce,” Oliver commented.
Royce shrugged. “I would have if it had seemed pertinent. But since Randall said his employer had an English accent, we assumed it was not Cosmo. We didn’t realize that Mr. Suttersby, who obviously came from England originally, was involved.”
“I’m sorry,” Mary told Oliver penitently. “It was my fault. Royce didn’t even know until the other day. I-I was afraid of what you would think of us.”
“But he is only your stepfather. Why would I think anything bad about you? One can hardly be held responsible for one’s relatives—think what trouble we would be in if we had to answer for Aunt Euphronia. One’s stepfather is no relation at all.”
“No. I can see now that I should have told you. But we thought we could handle Cosmo, if it was him, and we wouldn’t have to expose you to more scandal.”
“Well, reprehensible as this Cosmo chap seems to be, we shan’t have to worry about him. Mr. Suttersby was quite bitter about his taking off and leaving him in the lurch once things got dangerous.”
Camellia laughed. “That sounds like Cosmo.”
“I don’t understand. Who is Cosmo Glass?” Charlotte asked, and the others laughed.
After Cosmo had been explained to Charlotte, Camellia picked up the questioning. “Here’s what I don’t understand—why did Suttersby do it? I mean, Rose is beautiful and all that, but doesn’t it seem strange to chase her clear across the ocean?” She glanced at Sam, then turned beet red, and everyone broke into laughter again.
“You know what I mean,” Camellia protested. “Sam and Rose love each other; he knew that she returned the feeling. But she despised Mr. Suttersby. Rose would hardly talk to him when she lived in the same town. And he was going to kidnap her, not ask for her hand!”
“I don’t know that one can really understand an obsession,” Oliver commented.
“No, but there was something more,” Mary said. “When Miss Dalrymple dragged me down there, he told her she’d gotten the wrong one, and she said that any of us would do, or something like that. And while he was disgruntled about it, he was going to take me instead. Now, would you do that if you were obsessed with Rose?”
Royce shook his head. “There’s also the matter of the satchel. According to our friend Randall, he wanted the papers in it. But he also indicated that they weren’t enough.”
“Enough for what?” Lily asked, and Royce shrugged.
“Excuse me, but what was in the case he stole?” Sam asked.
“Not much,” Mary told him. “Some old bill of sale and a deed.”
“A deed? To what?” Sam asked. “Perhaps it’s valuable land, and Suttersby wanted it. If he forced Rose to marry him, he could have control of her property.”
“It was only a small farm in Schuylkill County,” Mary told him. “We lived there for a while, but it wasn’t—”
“Schuylkill County!” Sam leaned forward. “That’s it! There’s coal there.”
Mary nodded. “I remember Papa saying that. He wished he could mine it, but it’s not feasible. It’s too far to haul the coal.”
“But not any longer,” Sam said excitedly. “They’re building a canal.” He turned to Rose. “Don’t you remember me saying that I want to start a drayage company out west? That’s where I plan to go. I’m going to haul coal from the mines to the canal. Then it can be shipped down the canal to Philadelphia.”
“Then it makes sense!” Mary turned to Royce. “He could have Rose and money.”
Royce nodded. “If he was married to Rose, no one would question his running the thing for all four of you.”
“We found the deed on him,” Oliver said. “I put it in the safe when I got home last night. Sam, since you are moving there, perhaps you ought to see what you can do with that piece of property. It might provide a nice investment for Rose and her sisters.”
“Of course. I don’t know much about coal mining, but we could lease it to someone who does. Or maybe I’ll have to figure out how to run a coal mine.”
Rose grinned. “Or maybe I will.”
There was the sound of footsteps in the hall, and a moment later, Lady Vivian swept into the room. She was wearing a green velvet riding habit and, if possible, looked even more lovely in it than she had in the elegant gown she had worn last night.
“All I need,” the earl muttered.
“I had to come hear exactly what happened last night,” Vivian announced, ignoring Stewkesbury. “I didn’t even have breakfast.” She tossed them all a glittering smile. “Thank heavens you’re still eating.”
“Please, help yourself,” Stewkesbury said as she strode over to the sideboard to pick up a plate.
Lady Vivian tossed a grin over her shoulder. “I had forgotten how foul-tempered you are in the morning, Oliver. Well, I’m glad that Dalrymple woman is gone. She was a dull sort.” Vivian made her way down the sideboard, filling her plate. “Though dragging her off bodily did seem a bit extreme, don’t you think?”
“Mmm. Perhaps you should remember it next time you set out to annoy me.”
Vivian laughed, a hearty, infectious sound that brought a smile to everyone’s lips. “Perhaps I will.” She brought her plate to the table. “Now … tell me the whole of it,” she said, sitting down and digging in.
Stewkesbury sighed. “It’s not a tale I wish known, my lady.”
Vivian rolled her eyes. “As if I would tell anyone.”
“’Tis true. At least you’re not a chatterbox. All right.”
Succinctly Oliver related the tale of Miss Dalrymple’s deception and Mr. Suttersby’s plan to abduct Rose, his story supplemented by a number of additions from the others. Vivian listened, rapt—though she managed to put away a healthy amount of food as she absorbed the story. When he had finished, she sipped her tea, looking thoughtful.
“I think I can help you,” she said at last, setting the cup down in its saucer.
Stewkesbury looked at her warily. “In what way?”
“Oh, don’t look at me so. I don’t mean with any of this skulduggery. I am sure you will manage to hush it all up excessively well. I’m talking about the girls and their Season.” She glanced over at Charlotte. “I am certain you’ll agree with me about this, Charlotte.” She swiveled back to Oliver. “You don’t need a governess as a chaperone. What they need is someone who has been in the beau monde, not just a woman who has worked for those who are. You can hire tutors for dancing or even for music and painting, if you are really desirous of their being well turned-out. But for teaching them how to converse, how to act, how to handle a social situation, you need an actual lady.”
“Why do I have the feeling you have just the lady in mind?” Stewkesbury crossed his arms and looked at her.
“Because you are an intelligent man. I do. She is from a very respectable family, the widow of Major Bruce Hawthorne.”
<
br /> “Never heard of him.” Oliver shook his head.
“Even so, he existed. He was the grandson of some earl or other, but never flush in the pocket, I’m afraid. He died, leaving Mrs. Hawthorne penniless. She is entirely dependent upon her relatives, and I am sure she would be glad of the opportunity.”
The earl’s eyes slid over to his cousins. “Do you think she could … manage this situation?”
“Of course.” Vivan smiled at the Bascombe sisters. “You girls will find her delightful. She will not allow you to stumble into any social pitfalls, but neither will she browbeat you.” She turned back to Stewkesbury. “And you will find her demure and practical. Her reputation has always been of the best. She is the perfect chaperone.”
Stewkesbury hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “All right. Write her and see if she would be amenable to taking charge of them. How soon could she come? I can send Fitz to escort her.”
Vivian lifted an eyebrow.
The earl sighed. “Very well. Will you write to her, please ?”
“Of course.”
“No ‘please’ for me?” Fitz asked.
Oliver rolled his eyes. “You must be joking. Now that all the excitement’s over, you’ll be bored and into some sort of mischief if you don’t have something to do. Besides, it’s exactly the sort of thing you do well—charm middle-aged ladies.” He turned toward Vivian. “She is not very old, is she?”
“Oh, no, not very old,” Vivian replied. Mary saw a flash of something like amusement in Vivian’s eyes before she lowered them to her plate.
“Before we leave,” Royce said, standing up, “I have an announcement to make.” He turned and looked down at Mary. “Miss Bascombe has done me the honor of agreeing to become my wife.”
“About time,” Fitz commented, and the girls broke into cries of delight.
After that, there was much hugging and laughing, even a few tears before gradually everyone began to disperse. Royce and Mary drifted out onto the terrace and stood looking out over the gardens.
“Well,” he said. “We have the day to ourselves now that you are without anyone to give you lessons all day long.”
“And since there is no one hunting us, we can do whatever we want,” Mary agreed. “We could go riding or walking.”
“Perhaps we might visit the summerhouse.”
Mary chuckled at the glint in his eyes. “Maybe we’ll do just that.”
Royce put his arms around her and bent his head, resting his forehead against hers. “Perhaps we should get a special license and not wait for the banns to be read.”
“Hush. We will wait until after Rose is married. She is going to have her special day first. You and I … will manage.”
“I am sure we will.” He kissed her forehead. “God, I love you.” He bent and kissed her lips gently. As he shifted his mouth to kiss her again, she heard him murmur, “I cannot live without you.”
Mary smiled and gave herself up to his kiss. She had come home at last.
Turn the page
for a special look
at the next sparkling Willowmere romance
from
Candace Camp
A Gentleman Always Remembers
Coming next month from Pocket Books
Chapter 1
In a few days she would be gone. Eve Hawthorne could almost taste freedom.
No more lectures from a stepmother only eight years older than herself. No more tight-lipped frowns at a remark deemed too frivolous. No more having to endure the heavy-handed attempts at matchmaking with whatever widower or bachelor her stepmother hoped might be willing to take Eve off their hands.
When Eve’s husband died two years ago, he had left her, at twenty-six years of age, not only alone but nearly penniless. The Hawthornes had never been renowned for their ability to keep money in their pockets, and Bruce, the youngest son of a middle son of an earl, had had no income beyond his military commission, which had made it even more difficult for him to stay within his means. Eve used what little money Major Hawthorne had left her to pay off his debts, and even then she had been forced to sell their furniture and many of their belongings in order to satisfy his creditors. She had had no recourse but to return to her father’s home to live.
After almost eight years of marriage and managing her own life and household, it would have been hard in any case to have once more become a dependent child, but since Eve’s father had remarried several years earlier, Eve had found herself living not only on the Reverend Childe’s charity but on that of her stepmother as well. It had not been a welcome situation for either woman.
Eve faced her stepmother now, determined to keep a pleasant smile on her face. Surely these last few days they could manage to get along without their usual subtle struggle.
“It is a beautiful day, Imogene,” Eve observed. “Quite pleasant and warm for September. And Julian has finished all his lessons. Did he tell you how well he did in Latin?”
Eve realized as soon as she said it that her words had been a mistake. Much as Imogene Childe reveled in her son’s intelligence and education, it was always a sore spot with her that she herself had not received the sort of classical education that Eve had had at the hands of the Reverend Childe. She did not like to be reminded that Eve helped her father teach Julian, whereas Imogene, his own mother, could not.
“I am aware of Julian’s achievement in the subject,” Imogene responded, her mouth pruning up. “But he has not made the progress he has by ignoring his studies and running off to play.”
Eve knew better than to advance the argument that her half brother needed some time to play just as he did to study. Instead, she said, “But Julian will not be playing; we will be observing nature. The animals . . . the plants . . . the ways in which autumn is making changes in them. Besides, it is important for Julian to observe the beauty and wonder of the world that God has made for us, is it not?”
She smiled at Imogene sweetly, knowing that the pious woman would have more difficulty combating this argument.
But it was Julian himself who clinched it. “Please, Mother?” he asked, looking his most angelic. “Auntie Eve will be here only a few more days, and then she and I can’t do this anymore.”
The thought of her stepdaughter’s imminent departure brightened Imogene’s expression, and, with a sigh, she relented. “Very well, you may go with your aunt, Julian.” She turned her gaze to Eve. “But pray, do not bring him home muddy again or with grass stains all over his clean shirt.”
“We shall do our very best to stay clean,” Eve promised her. She no longer tried to make her stepmother understand that one could not expect a young boy to remain perfectly tidy unless he did nothing but sit in a chair all day.
Mrs. Childe nodded, the tight corkscrew curls on either side of her face bouncing. “You had best remember, Eve, that the Earl of Stewkesbury is not looking for someone who will let his cousins run wild. He wants a woman who is a model of decorum. Those girls’ reputations will depend on what you do as their chaperone. It is a heavy responsibility, and I hope the earl will not regret entrusting it to someone as young and frivolous in attitude as you.”
Eve managed to retain her smile, though it was more a grimace than an expression of humor or goodwill at this point. “I will keep that in mind, ma’am, I promise you.”
After picking up her long-brimmed bonnet and tying it on, Eve followed her half brother out of the house and across the yard, cutting through the churchyard and cemetery to the beckoning field beyond. She smiled to herself as she watched Julian race ahead, then squat to observe some insect making its way through the grass.
The thought of saying good-bye to Julian was the only thing that tugged at her heart, marring somewhat the joy of leaving this house. Her half brother had made the past two years bearable, easing her grief over Bruce with his warm affection. Even his mother’s rigid rules and sanctimonious airs had seemed less bothersome when Julian slipped his small hand in hers and smiled at her or ti
lted his head to the side like a curious sparrow as he asked her a question. Eve’s marriage had been childless, which had long been a sorrow to her, but Julian’s presence in her life had helped fill that hole in her heart.
It would pain her to leave him, but in only a couple of years Julian would be sent off to Eton as his father had been before him, and then Eve would be left in the house with only the company of her studious, abstracted father and her carping stepmother. It was a prospect to make one’s blood run cold.
That was why Eve had jumped at the opportunity to chaperone Lord Stewkesbury’s American cousins. Lady Vivian Carlyle, Eve’s friend since childhood, was also close to the Talbot family, headed by the Earl of Stewkesbury. Lady Vivian had written Eve recently to say that the earl was in desperate need of a chaperone for his young cousins who had arrived in London from the United States. It seemed that the chaperone Stewkesbury had first hired to help the young women enter English society had proved entirely unsuitable. What was needed, Vivian had written, was a woman of good family who could act as an older sister or young aunt to the girls, taking them under her wing and instructing them—as much by example as teaching—in the things they would need to know to make their way successfully through a London Season. Vivian had thought immediately of Eve and wanted to know if she would be interested in traveling to Willowmere, the country seat of the Talbot family, and assume the position of chaperone.
Eve had written back to assure her friend that she would indeed welcome the opportunity to chaperone the American girls. In reply, she had received a letter from the earl himself, offering her a generous stipend for her troubles and stating that he would send a carriage to bring her to Willowmere—a gesture Eve found most gracious, though it was doubtless inspired more by the fact that she was a friend of Lady Vivian than by any concern for her own person.
The earl had given her two weeks in which to pack and prepare for her journey, which meant that the carriage was scheduled to arrive anytime in the next two or three days. She had only these last few days to enjoy her half brother’s company, and she intended to take full advantage of them. So she put all of her stepmother’s injunctions out of her mind and followed the boy through the field and down to the brook.
