‘I…’ She bit down on the retort that she hadn’t answered back, since that would have been answering back.
‘Go to your room and stay there,’ he bellowed. ‘And think about the consequences of your actions this day.’
She didn’t hesitate. She got out of her chair and scurried to the door. Oh, not because her uncle frightened her. Although it was a bit disconcerting to have a grown man standing over her, shouting right into her face. It was Harriet’s guilty conscience that was making her so uncomfortable. Because it really was unforgivable to upset the servants so badly. Badly enough for them to break with all the etiquette that appeared to govern them and make a complaint about her.
As if that weren’t bad enough, worse was to come. Just as she reached the foot of the stairs, who should she see descending them but Lord Becconsall.
He was frowning. And his eyes were flicking from where she was standing clutching at the newel post for support to the door of her uncle’s study.
He must have seen her coming out. He’d probably heard her uncle shouting. And he’d definitely seen her being hauled unceremoniously out of the drawing room.
Not that he cared. Not about her. That frown, that expression of concern, couldn’t possibly be concern on her behalf. For a man like that cared only about himself. And his stupid friends. And their stupid wagers.
So he was probably wondering if somehow, someone had told her uncle what she’d been up to in the park. Or, more likely, told tales about her going out on to the terrace with him last night.
Yes, he was probably scared that her warning about him having to marry her if anyone should find out he’d kissed her was about to come true.
Well, he need not be. She would rather spend the rest of her days…well…anywhere than married to him when it was clearly the last thing he wanted. In the hopes of conveying her determination to do anything rather than be dragged down the aisle to marry him, she lifted her chin, prised her fingers from the newel post, urged her feet into motion and began to mount the stairs.
‘Lady Harriet…’ he began in an urgent undertone as she drew level with him.
She shot him a scathing glance, tossing her head for good measure, and kept right on climbing the stairs.
And then she strode along the corridor to her room with her head held high. Without looking back to see his reaction to her snub.
Not even once.
CHAPTER TWELVE
She didn’t slam the door to her room behind her. But she did attempt to relieve her feelings by marching across to the dressing table and kicking the stool. Which hurt like blazes.
Cursing under her breath, she hopped over to her bed and sat down quickly. As she sat there cradling her foot, wondering if she’d broken a bone, she listened to callers leaving and callers arriving. Eventually the hour for paying such calls came to an end and the house fell quiet. Relatively quiet. She heard Kitty’s footsteps hurry past her room and then the sound of her bedroom door open and close. Her little bedroom clock struck the hour twice, but it wasn’t until she heard the family making their way to the dining room that she began to wonder if she was not only confined to her room, but also going to be deprived of food and drink.
Which made her get up and start pacing the room angrily. That she was able to do so came as some relief in regard to her toe. At least she had only bruised, rather than broken, it.
Nevertheless, she didn’t kick any other item of furniture, even when she heard evidence that the family had not only dined without her, but were also getting ready to go out, without a single one of them deigning to see if there was anything she might need.
She’d just flung herself on to her bed, with her poor injured foot at the head so that she could treat it to the softness of half-a-dozen pillows, when the door opened to reveal her aunt, all dressed up ready to go out, but looking far from well enough to do so.
‘Aunt Susan, I am so sorry,’ said Harriet, instantly struck with remorse for having spent the day thinking of nobody but herself. Uncle Hugo had probably used her behaviour as yet another stick to beat Aunt Susan with. Metaphorically, that was.
‘I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble,’ she said, scrambling to sit up. ‘Or upset the servants. I just couldn’t bear to think of you bearing the blame any longer. I hoped to find out…’
‘Oh, my dear,’ said Aunt Susan, glancing over her shoulder guiltily before coming in and shutting the door behind her. ‘It is better, really, that the world should believe that I sold the jewels to pay gambling debts and had the stones copied, than that a serious enquiry should be made.’
‘What? No! Surely—’
‘Hush.’ She came across the room and sat down on the bed, next to Harriet. ‘Let me explain something to you,’ she said, taking hold of her hands. ‘It will help you to understand your uncle’s attitude over this. I know you think he is being harsh and unforgiving, but it is not the case. You see,’ she went on hurriedly when Harriet took a breath to protest that it was the case and she would never forgive him. ‘When he was a boy, his mother…lost a string of pearls. She accused a servant, who hadn’t been with the family for very long, of stealing them. The maid swore she was innocent, but his mother insisted it must have been her, since nobody else had access to them. She was found guilty and hanged. And then…the pearls turned up.’
‘What? How dreadful!’
‘Yes. His mother never forgave herself. She’d sent an innocent woman to the gallows. You can imagine the effect it must have had upon him. Which is why, though it has upset me, I…I can forgive Lord Tarbrook for being so insistent on blaming me, when he must know…’ Her lower lip trembled.
‘Well, anyway, enough of that. You are not to be permitted to come out with us tonight. Though, I take it, that will not concern you too much?’ She tilted her head and looked Harriet in the eye. ‘Since you seem determined to avoid a certain…gentleman?’
‘Oh, dear. Yes, that is something else I need to apologise for. Uncle Hugo told me I had no right to have your butler refuse admittance to any of his guests. It was just that—’
‘You have taken him in strong aversion.’
‘Yes.’ She found she couldn’t look her aunt in the eye. Instead she gazed down at where her own hands were being held between her aunt’s bejewelled fingers as she braced herself to face some awkward questions.
But her aunt only sighed.
‘Well, no matter. He is not exactly a splendid catch. Although he comes from a good family and has a comfortable income, his reputation is that he is not all that…steady. Had I been thinking more clearly I might have given him a hint he was wasting his time in the first place. However, you appeared to like him, so…’
‘Yes, I did, at first. It is just that…’ She swallowed, wondering how to continue that sentence without owning up to what she’d done, or what he’d done, or what she’d subsequently overheard.
‘First impressions can be deceptive. And I don’t forget that he was the first man of any real consequence to pay you attention. However, I am sure he won’t be the last, so we will say no more.’
She was sure he wouldn’t be the last? Harriet lifted her head to stare in astonishment at her aunt. That definitely wasn’t what Uncle Hugo thought. He’d told her she was so worthless and unattractive that only a desperate fortune-hunter would be prepared to overlook her faults. He’d been so cutting and cruel that if she’d been a sensitive sort of girl she would have been devastated. Fortunately, he’d already revealed his true colours by the way he’d treated his own wife. Her lovely, lovely Aunt Susan, who was trying to make her feel better instead of crushing her when she was already down.
‘I shall tell your uncle that I have found you suitably penitent,’ said Aunt Susan. ‘And not mention your obvious relief that you don’t have to face the ordeal of yet another ball. It would quite spoil his conv
iction that he is being extremely strict with you,’ she said, much to Harriet’s amazement. In the space of three minutes, Aunt Susan had not only expressed an opinion which was the very opposite of the man she normally deferred to on all matters, but now she was proposing to actually hoodwink him!
‘I shall have Maud bring you up some supper the moment we have gone out. You can manage until then? You are not too hungry?’
‘No, thank you Aunt Susan,’ she said, wishing there was some way to express the sudden surge of affection she felt for her brave, kindly and compassionate aunt. Who was always trying to see the good in people, even when experience must have taught her that there wasn’t all that much, all that often.
‘I will also select a few journals and books for you to read. I see no reason why you should be deprived of all forms of entertainment, just because you are not allowed to leave your room. Especially since…’ She trailed off, looking guilty. Leaving Harriet wondering what she’d been about to say. She hoped that Aunt Susan might have thought about saying she was touched by Harriet’s belief in her innocence. Or that she didn’t think the things she’d done warranted confinement in her room. But to do either would have meant openly declaring that she no longer believed her husband was infallible. And she clearly wasn’t yet ready to commit such open sacrilege.
It wasn’t long after Aunt Susan left her room that Harriet heard everyone going downstairs. She went to the window to watch the family get into the coach and go out. She folded her arms as the coach merged with the traffic going around the square and shook her head over the tale Aunt Susan had told her, about the innocent servant going to the gallows. She’d done it to try to make her believe that Uncle Hugo wasn’t a complete ogre, of course. But, well, it had given her food for thought.
For one thing, she could see that Uncle Hugo did have a good reason for behaving the way he’d done. For another, if she’d known about the awful fate of that poor servant girl in his childhood, she would never have asked the servants so many questions about Aunt Susan’s rubies. They must all be terrified the same kind of thing might be going to happen all over again.
Which made it impossible to ask them anything else.
Which meant poor Aunt Susan was just going to have to bear the blame.
Which wasn’t fair! She couldn’t have had the jewels copied. She just wouldn’t do such a thing.
She leaned her head against the cool panes of glass. And it was just as if some of its clarity seeped right into her head. Because she could suddenly see that although the horrid fate of that serving girl had come as a complete surprise to her, there must be plenty of other people who knew all about it. A story that shocking was bound to have been broadcast far and wide at the time. You couldn’t keep a story like that hushed up, no matter how hard a family tried to do so.
She straightened up. Anyone who knew about it would also know how reluctant Uncle Hugo would be to question his servants very closely. That he’d be much more likely to pretend nothing had happened rather than risk sending another innocent to the gallows.
And if they knew the family well enough to have heard about that old scandal, then they’d probably also know how infrequently Aunt Susan got the rubies out of the…well, wherever it was she kept them.
Oh, how she wished she hadn’t promised she wouldn’t ask the servants any more questions. Because now Aunt Susan had told her all about those pearls, it had shone light on the mystery of the fake rubies in a whole new way. She no longer needed to look for the kind of thief who’d climb in through a window. Someone like…a close friend of the family would have had far more opportunity to effect the swap. Someone who could walk into the house as though they had every right to be there.
She’d just reached that conclusion when someone scratched at the door, then came straight in. It was Maud, with her supper, and Peter with a bundle of magazines and a couple of novels.
Neither of them looked at her, but simply set their burdens down on the nearest surface.
‘Please,’ said Harriet, darting forward, her hand outstretched. ‘Would you be so kind as to convey my heartfelt apologies to all the staff? I never meant to frighten anyone. I never imagined I could frighten anyone. It is just that my aunt has been so good to me and, seeing her so upset over being accused of something I just know she couldn’t have done, well, I wanted to clear her name. It never occurred to me that clearing her name might mean casting suspicion on any of you. I am sure none of you would do anything so disloyal. I just thought you might have some suspicion of…well, how an intruder might have got in. Or something,’ she finished, her heart sinking as both maid and footman regarded her with identically stony faces.
‘Will that be all?’
‘Yes,’ said Harriet, on a sigh. She’d done what she could. It was up to them whether they chose to forgive her or not.
* * *
The next morning, when Maud came in to open her curtains and set out her wash water, Harriet could barely resist the temptation to pull her quilt up over her ears and pretend she was still asleep. Still asleep? She didn’t feel as if she’d slept for more than brief snatches all night. If it wasn’t her guilt over the mess she’d made of trying to question the servants that had kept sleep at bay, it was cringing reminders of the way she’d started to feel about Lord Becconsall. In spite of him warning her not to.
Whenever she did drop off to sleep, the dreams that plagued her were so uncomfortable she jerked out of them as soon as she could. Either Lord Becconsall and his friends were lurking behind some bushes, all pointing and laughing at her. Or he was holding her in his arms and kissing her breathless. And in the dreams where he was kissing her, he sometimes had the rubies held behind his back. Whenever she woke up she puzzled over that, because she didn’t really believe he had anything to do with the theft. Eventually she worked out that it was just her mind jumbling up the one fraud—the switch of the jewels for fakes—with his deceptive appearance of friendship. Or whatever it was that she’d thought had been growing between them.
In any case, all the dreams told her the same thing. She was a fool. A gullible, clumsy, ridiculous fool. And now it was morning and her eyes were gritty and her head felt as if it was full of sponge. Sponge that had soaked up too much unpleasantness and was consequently pressing at the inside of her skull.
But Maud, once she’d seen to her chores, seemed to be in no hurry to leave her in peace to mope. In fact, she stood at the foot of the bed, her hands clasped at her waist, and cleared her throat.
Repressing a moan, Harriet sat up, hugged her knees to her chest and looked the maid in the eye.
‘Yes?’
Maud cleared her throat again. ‘Well, Miss Harriet, it’s like this. We, all of us, want to say that we’re that sorry about the way Lord Tarbrook has taken our complaint. We never dreamed he’d haul you out of the drawing room like that, not when it was chock full of visitors. Especially not when that nice Lord Becconsall what is just starting to show an interest in you was there.’
Harriet made a dismissive wave of her hand at the mention of Lord Becconsall.
‘We just wanted you to stop asking so many questions,’ persisted Maud. ‘For the older ones, see, it brought back so many bad memories.’
‘I know,’ said Harriet. ‘That is, Lady Tarbrook explained it to me last night. It must have been dreadful.’
‘Oh, yes it was, miss. I mean, my lady,’ Maud corrected herself, dropping a curtsy.
‘And as I said last night, I wasn’t trying to point the finger of blame at any of you. I just thought that someone might have come into the house while you were all away. Or out for the evening, or something of the sort.’
‘What, and broke in again another time to put the fakes back in place?’ Maud shook her head. ‘Couldn’t have been done.’
‘No, I quite see that,’ said Harriet, her breath quickening a bit. Becau
se she was technically breaking her word about not talking to the servants about the rubies.
Or was she? After all, it had been Maud who’d brought the subject up.
‘Couldn’t have been done when we were all away at a house party, neither,’ Maud continued of her own volition. ‘Her ladyship takes all her gewgaws along with her, rather than leave them behind in an empty house. Even the ones she has no intention of wearing.’ Maud frowned as if in confusion.
And Harriet racked her brains to remember the exact wording of what she’d promised her uncle. She was pretty sure she’d only promised not to ask the servants any more questions. Not to refrain from speaking about the topic at all. Especially not if they were the ones who brought it up.
Having squared it with her conscience, Harriet made a statement that could in no way be interpreted as a question.
‘It’s…it’s a puzzle, isn’t it?’
‘That it is. But we none of us can believe her ladyship done it. What his lordship suggested. Only if she didn’t, then it must have been one of us, that’s what they’d say.’
By the sound of it, overnight the servants had been discussing not only whether to accept Harriet’s apology, but also the mystery of the fake rubies as well.
If she subtly dropped her own ideas into the conversation, they might go away and discuss it some more. That wasn’t actually asking them questions, was it?
‘I was thinking,’ she said tentatively, ‘that if it wasn’t any of you, and it wasn’t my aunt, and it wasn’t a burglar who broke in, then that only leaves…’
‘Yes?’ Maud leaned forward, clearly eager to hear Harriet’s theory.
‘Well, a close family friend. Or at least, someone who could come and go without rousing suspicion.’
Convenient Bride for the Soldier & the Major Meets His Match & Secret Lessons With the Rake (9781488021718) Page 34
