by Candace Camp
“Veronica is my daughter?” Devin asked, his eyes going from Miranda to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth nodded, brushing at the tears that still trickled down her cheeks. “Yes. She—she has no idea. I have always told her that her father was Roddy Blakington. A wonderful man I made up. She—I—” Panic filled her eyes. “You won’t tell her, will you?” She looked from Devin to Miranda and back, her hands clenching nervously in her skirt. “I don’t know what it would do to her. I—she would be bound to hate me.”
“I am sure she wouldn’t hate you,” Miranda began soothingly.
“I won’t tell her,” Devin added, his voice rough with emotion. “Keeping silent is the least I can do after all the pain I caused you. Caused everyone. But I will also look after her as a father would, I promise you that.” He hesitated, then went on. “Constance…Elizabeth, I am sorry. I know no amount of words can make up for the suffering you went through. Please, believe me, I did not know. I would not have—I know I have never been the model of a gentleman, but I would not have behaved so dishonorably.”
Elizabeth nodded, pressing a hand against her lips, tears running down her face.
Miranda looked at her with concern. “Let me take you to your room, Elizabeth. A nice, soothing lie-down would be good, don’t you think? I’ll ring for your maid, and she can put a lavender compress on your forehead.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth choked out. “Please. I—I need to be alone.”
Miranda did as she had suggested, taking Elizabeth’s arm and helping her up and out of the room. She led her up the stairs to her bedroom and over to the bed, then rang for Elizabeth’s maid.
“I was a fool,” Elizabeth whispered. “I was a fool back then, and I am still one now.”
“You are not a fool. You simply trusted the wrong person. That is all. I am sure many women would have acted just as you did.”
“Not you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Most people are not very wise when it comes to love.”
“You didn’t marry for love. You were very practical about it.”
Miranda smiled. “You think not?”
“Are you saying that you love him? That you loved him before you married him?”
Miranda nodded and took her stepmother’s hand. “He really is a good man, Elizabeth. Those things you thought about him all these years were false.”
“I know. But I—I hated him so long that it will take a bit of adjusting to feel differently. Oh, Miranda! Will you ever forgive me? I have been half-mad with fear the last few weeks. I was so afraid he would hurt you, but I could not bear to tell you the truth. And I sent Hastings to hurt him! I have been such a fool, such a coward and—Can you ever forgive me?”
“Of course I can. I know you have been—well, you haven’t been yourself.”
At that point Elizabeth’s maid came in, and Miranda left Elizabeth to the girl’s ministrations. She was sure that Elizabeth was not the only one in a state of shock and needing to talk right now. Devin had looked as if his world had been turned inside out.
She started toward the stairs to go back down to the library, but she found Devin sitting on the top step, waiting for her. “Miranda.” He stood up and turned to face her. There was a bleak look on his face that tore at her heart. She went to him and wrapped her arms about his waist, leaning against this chest. His arms went around her, and he hugged her to him tightly.
“God, Miranda! What a fool I’ve been!” he burst out, echoing Elizabeth’s words. “All these years…Leona’s been lying to me. Toying with me.”
Miranda’s arms tightened involuntarily around him. Devin’s pain hurt her, and it hurt even more that his pain sprang in large part from the fact that he had loved Leona. But she put her own emotions aside for the moment.
“Let’s go to my room.” She took his hand and led him down the hall to her bedroom. Devin sat down on a chair with a sigh, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees, his chin on his hands.
“That was when she let me have her,” he said, staring sightlessly at the wall as his thoughts turned back to that time fifteen years before. “I had been chasing Leona for over a year. She would tease me, offer more and never fulfill it. When I went to Brighton, she introduced me to Constance. Leona knew that I was mistaken about Constance’s being experienced, and she did not correct it. I think she wanted to see what would happen. Leona would come to my apartments late at night and want to know what had happened with Constance. It was a kind of triumph for her to know that my telling her about it made me crazier with desire than anything Constance and I had done.”
He shook his head, then plunged his fingers back through his hair. “I am sorry. I should not be telling you things like this.”
“You can talk to me about anything,” Miranda said calmly, despite the hot anger against Leona that burned in her.
“But I guess when Cons—when Elizabeth told her that she was pregnant, Leona realized that the fun and games were over. I had taken her to task over not telling me that Constance was a virgin, and she must have suspected that I would marry Constance even though I loved her. She didn’t want that. So she made up those lies—convinced Elizabeth to flee to America, made all the rest of us believe that Elizabeth was dead so that we would not try to find her.”
He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was rougher. “I think that she wanted me to feel to blame for Constance’s death. She knew that my sinking deeper and deeper into wickedness would bind me to her even more. It would make me more like her and less like my family and the other people I knew. The more I separated myself from the rest of the world, the more I was tied to her. Does that make sense?”
Miranda nodded. “Yes. She didn’t understand the good parts of you, I am sure, and they frightened her. She knew that it was the goodness inside you that would make you likely to leave her.”
“She ruined Elizabeth’s life without a second thought.” He shook his head. “She watched me suffer with guilt. She stood by while my father and I broke over Elizabeth’s death. I never spoke with him again. He died despising me. And she never said a word to me about what really happened.” He looked up at Miranda, tears shimmering in his eyes. “How could she have been so heartless?”
Miranda’s throat closed with sympathetic tears, and she could only whisper, “I don’t know.”
“She never really loved me,” he went on.
“I don’t think she is capable of love,” Miranda agreed.
“It is no wonder she never felt jealousy. Her heart wasn’t in danger. All she cared about was having power over me. She even urged me to marry you. She did not realize—” He stopped abruptly and looked at Miranda. “Dear God…”
“What? What’s the matter?”
“Of course. It is she who—”
“Who what? Devin, what are you talking about?”
“It is Leona who has been trying to kill you.”
“What? Why? What would she get out of it?”
“Everything. Don’t you see? You have interfered with her power over me far more than Constance ever did. I told her the other day that I was not going to see her again. Even before that, she was bound to realize that her control over me was slipping away. I haven’t been with her since I became engaged to you. She’s lost me.” He grimaced. “More importantly for her, no doubt, is the fact that she has lost her chance at your money.”
“What?”
“I told you, she wanted me to marry you. She thought, as I did, that your money would be under my control. She no doubt still thinks that. I never told her any differently. Her idea was that I would spend your money on her and the things we liked to do. She told me that Vesey was curtailing her spending. So to her way of thinking she has lost a great deal of money. If you were dead, however, she would assume that I would inherit your money. And with you out of the way, I am sure she thinks that she could get me back under her spell again. No doubt it was she who arranged for all your ‘accidents’ to happen.”
&n
bsp; “You really think so?”
“Who else? It makes sense now.” Devin rose to his feet. His eyes glittered with an unholy light. “I’m going over there. I’m going to make sure that nothing else happens to you.”
“Dev!”
But he had already turned and was striding from the room.
20
Devin rode to Vesey Park, impelled by a white-hot fury. He reined up in front, turning his horse over to a groom, and went to pound on the front door. A startled footman opened the door, then hastily stepped back as Devin pushed his way through it.
“Where is she?” he growled, and when the footman began to stutter out a response, he yelled, “Leona! Leona! Where the hell are you?”
“Sir!” The footman gaped at him. “I shall announce you if you—”
Devin did not spare the man a glance as he strode through the entry hall to the staircase and began to take it two steps at a time, bellowing Leona’s name. The footman hurried after him, wringing his hands and calling out, “Sir!” ineffectually.
Leona appeared in a doorway halfway down the hall. A smile curved her mouth, and she sauntered toward Devin, waving back the footman. “It’s all right, Portman. I will see Lord Ravenscar.”
She waited for Devin, arms crossed beneath her breasts, a smug smile firmly in place. “Well, well, Devin, even sooner than I thought…I told you that you would come running back to me, didn’t I? Now, the question is, how much should I make you crawl before I take you back?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Devin hooked one hand around her arm and dragged her into the sitting room.
“What do you—” Leona yelped in protest. “If you think that is going to win me back, I can tell you that you are fair and far off!”
“I don’t give a damn about winning you back. I came here to tell you that I am on to your scheme. And I swear to you that if you harm one hair on Miranda’s head, I will not rest until I have hunted you down and put you in the ground.”
Leona gaped at him, her preconceptions tumbling down around her with a thud. “What? Miranda? How dare you!”
“Oh, I dare!” he shot back. “Don’t think that you can twine me around your finger again. I know you. I know all the things you did—the lies you told me, the games you played.”
“What? Don’t be absurd. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Devin opened his mouth to explain about Elizabeth, but stopped. He was not about to give Leona any ammunition to use against Miranda or anyone connected to Miranda. He would have liked to spew out what he thought about her and what she had done to both him and Elizabeth, but he knew that Leona must never know who Elizabeth was or that Veronica was his illegitimate daughter. So he shoved back his grievance and said only, “Oh, yes, I think you do. You have played me for a fool for years, Leona, and you may think that I will never hurt you because I’ve been your lapdog for so long. But I am not anymore. You have seen how I am with others who cross me. You know what I’m capable of.”
“I know that you have gone quite mad,” Leona snapped back, trying to wrest her arm away from him.
“No, not yet. But I can promise you I will if any harm comes to my wife.”
“You keep prating on about her! I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The ‘accidents’ that have been befalling her, that is what I am talking about. I realized that it was you who must be behind them. So I came here to tell you that it will do you no good. I will never come back to you, no matter what might happen to Miranda. The thought of touching you again makes my skin crawl. And should she be hurt, I will know that you are the one who caused it, and I will make sure you pay for it. Physically, socially, every way possible. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly!” Leona seethed. “Now let go of me. I hate you!”
He released her abruptly, and she staggered back a little. “Then the feeling is mutual,” he told her bitterly. “Just remember what I said. Leave Miranda alone.”
“I wouldn’t touch your precious little wife!” Leona cried, her voice cracking with fury. “Now get out of my house.”
“Gladly.” Devin knew that he had made an implacable enemy of her, but he also knew that Leona was far too interested in self-preservation to discount his words.
He took a last long look at her, wondering how he had thought himself in love with her for so long. Then he turned on his heel and strode out.
After Devin left, Miranda went down to the library. It had been a taxing day, and she was glad to seek the solace of her work. Hiram was not there, being upstairs closeted with Joseph and the architect, going over the expenditures for the renovation of the house. Mr. Strong, however, was there, and she remembered that yesterday she had told him to meet with her almost an hour earlier. He jumped to his feet when she came in.
“My lady.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Strong. I forgot our appointment.”
“That is perfectly all right, my lady,” Strong said with alacrity, getting to his feet. “I will come back another time.”
“No, we should go ahead,” Miranda said. “I need to get it done before Lord Ravenscar and I leave for Apworth Mountain.”
“Apworth Mountain, my lady? Are you sure? I mean, are you still planning to go after, well, your ordeal yesterday?”
“Of course. Why not? Now, where were we? The final set of books?”
“Yes, my lady. But, ah, I was thinking. Perhaps we might ride over to one or two of the tenant farms today. You had been wanting to go to them, you said.”
“That’s true.” Miranda considered the idea. It was tempting to think of riding out instead of staying cooped up in the house today. And now that Devin had figured out that it was Leona who was to blame for the “accidents,” she supposed there would be no problem with leaving the house. She sighed. “No, I had better not. I need to get through with this or I will find it hard to enjoy our excursion.”
“Of course.” He started to sit down, then stopped. “Oh, wait, I left part of the papers in my office. If you will excuse me for a minute.”
“All right.” Miranda sat down at the table and pulled the ledger book to her as he left the room.
She was deeply engrossed in an examination of the accounts some ten minutes later when the door opened again.
“Ah, there you are,” she began, swinging around to look at Strong. To her surprise, it was Devin’s uncle who had come into the room. “Oh! Uncle Rupert. I thought you were the estate manager.”
“No. Sorry.” He smiled. “How are you doing, my dear? All recovered from your fright yesterday?”
“Oh, yes.” She smiled. “I am rather resilient.”
“Yes, I can see that you are. I was going out for a ride, and I thought I would stop in and see if you would like to go with me. Over to the abbey ruins, perhaps?”
“No, I had better not. I’m waiting for Mr. Strong to return. We have to finish the books today.”
“Oh, surely that can wait,” the older man said jovially. “It is a beautiful day for a ride.”
“No. I’m sorry. I cannot.”
“Oh. Pity.” Uncle Rupert reached into his jacket and, much to Miranda’s amazement, pulled out a pistol. He leveled it at her. “I am afraid that I must insist, my dear.”
Miranda stared at him, her brain suddenly numb. Uncle Rupert? “It is you?” she asked. “You are the one who—”
She broke off, turning as the door opened, and Strong stepped into the room. “Mr. Strong!” she cried with relief. “Help me.”
But Strong only glanced at her nervously, then looked toward Rupert. “People will see the gun,” he said agitatedly. “You cannot walk out of here carrying that, sir.”
“I am afraid you’re right, Strong.” Uncle Rupert started toward Miranda.
Miranda stared at them, stunned. The two of them were in on this together! Suddenly it came to her like a blow to her skull.
“The estate!” she cried. It was the only thing that connected the two
men. “You have been cheating Devin on the estate!”
Uncle Rupert sighed. “That is your problem. You see? You are simply much too clever for your own good.”
He stopped beside her, and before Miranda knew what he was about to do, he raised the pistol and brought the butt end down sharply on her skull. Everything went black, and she crumpled to the floor.
It was completely dark when Miranda came to, and for an instant she was terrified that she was back in the dreadful cellar again. But then it impinged on her consciousness that there was light coming in through some large cracks in the ceiling. She knew that the cellar had not looked like that.
Her head was splitting. She sat up gingerly and looked around her. There was a little more light than there had been yesterday in the cellar, and she was able to see that she was sitting on an earthen floor, earthen walls all around her. The light from above came through in four lines the shape of a rectangle. A vague shape of stairs went up to the rectangle. She was again underground, she thought, this time with a trap door instead of a regular door and earthen walls instead of stone ones. She supposed it could be another part of the cellars, or perhaps even some other outbuilding of Darkwater.
Or it could be the abbey ruins.
That thought took hold of her mind, and the more she contemplated it, the more she thought that the abbey was the likely answer. They would not want to risk her being quickly discovered again, as she had been yesterday. No doubt they would think it better to get her away from the house. But how had they managed to carry her unconscious body out of the house without anyone noticing?
She sat for a while longer, gathering her strength. She knew that she would have to make the attempt to open the trap door, but right now she felt too sick and weak from the blow Rupert had given her to do much of anything.
Sighing, she leaned back against the wall. Rupert had accused her of being too clever. The truth was, she thought, she hadn’t been clever enough. After weeks of going over the books and looking through the estate business matters, she had not caught on to the fact that Rupert and the estate manager were cheating Devin. No doubt they had a false set of books which they had shown her. They must have been collecting more money in rents than they showed in the books and pocketing the difference. The estate must not be in the terrible shape the two of them had pretended.
