by Julia Donner
Chapter 12
Ana returned to the school and the dismal news that Lady Lucinda waited in the reception room. She wore her uncle’s shooting jacket, muddied boots, an old walking dress with its hem wet and filthy. There was nothing to show for an entire morning of hunting for game, interrupted by the squire’s unwanted attentions and Lord Carnall’s insistence that she marry him. A tingling between her thighs reminded her of other activities. Words had been said, some of them exceedingly embarrassing. And provocative. And impossible to forget.
The seed of annoyance swiftly grew to simmering outrage. There was much to do and she had no patience left for people who had no consideration for her difficulties. She was not going to take the time to go upstairs to wash, change and present herself as was expected. Add to that, she had little interest in what her arrogant sister-in-law had to say. It would be nothing more than disparagement and insult.
After telling Elsie not to bother with refreshments, she sailed up the steps to the first floor reception room. Ground floor rooms, other than the dining hall, had been converted into classrooms. The lively music from the dance class in progress had no effect on her mood. She paused before opening the door to strip off her gloves.
Lady Lucinda wore a Pomona green carriage dress with purple accents. She carried a net reticule and held a leather folder in kid gloves dyed a rich lavender. Turning from the window, she confronted Ana with her usual expression of slightly pursed lips and raised eyebrows, as if she tasted something tart or prepared to answer an unpleasant question.
“Good afternoon, Lady Lucinda, Won’t you sit down?”
Ana had just trudged two miles in the wake of an angry and self-proclaimed affianced marquis, but she wouldn’t sit unless her sister-in-law did. She had no interest in giving the woman the benefit of height when Lady Lucinda already held the opinion that she was better and higher in station than the rest of the world.
Lady Lucinda advanced, extending a leather folder. When she came in proximity, Ana took the folder without thinking and held it as Lady Lucinda stated her purpose for the visit.
“Jasper neglected to leave these with you. He asked me to deliver them since I would be in the neighborhood. You’ll find all of it self-explanatory.”
An obvious lie. The woman could claim no acquaintances in this neighborhood. She didn’t acknowledge individuals who did not frequent London, Bath or Brighton. On a less emotionally strenuous day, Ana might have been tempted to point that out, but she would much rather spend the time neatening her appearance.
After shoving the gloves she had taken off into her coat pocket, she asked, irked and not bothering to conceal her impatience, “And what is it that the folder holds that requires no explanation?”
“Why, his encumbrances. You are the elder and received a greater portion from your inheritance. It’s the least you can do for a loving brother.”
“It appears that I did not make myself clear. I do not have the funds to cover his embarrassments. Perhaps you could approach your father for a temporary assist.”
Lady Lucinda’s eyes narrowed. “My father believes such matters should be handled through one’s nearest relatives.”
“Precisely.” She extended the folder. “It is my regret that I have nothing left to give Jasper.”
Lady Lucinda ignored the folder and pressed her lips into a line. “It is not my father’s place to pay for Jasper’s excesses.”
“Nor is it mine, Lady Lucinda. If you will not accept his vowels to return to him, I shall have them delivered. For now, I must change for an appointment.”
A sneer wrinkled Lady Lucinda’s upper lip. Her cold gaze swept over Ana’s wrinkled gown and soiled boots. “How like you to not bother with the niceties or even extend to a guest the slightest degree of civility. But I shall not sink to your level of disinterest in one’s family and warn you to have a care for what you are about with Lord Carnall.”
Suspicion spread its fearful ache throughout her chest, rising up to fill her throat. She rejected it and the onslaught of self-doubt. Now was not the time to lower one’s guard with an animal like her sister-in-law in the room.
“My personal business is not your concern, Lady Lucinda, and I can’t imagine that you have an interest in my well-being.”
“To be perfectly honest, I do not, but I do value my family’s good name. Be sure what you are doing with the marquis. He’s not a man easily swayed by persuasion or artifice.”
“And you know this because you have attempted it?”
Lady Lucinda stiffened. She lifted her already up-tilted nose and swept out of the room. Ana sighed and wanted to sink down into the nearby chair, but feared the back of her dress might smudge the upholstery. She became aware of the folder still in her hand. She flipped open the flap and withdrew a handful of papers. Her brother’s vowels, bills from tailors and dressmakers, merchants and grocers, and that was only one handful. There were more in the folder. When she shoved them back inside, her fingers encountered an envelope addressed to her. She set down the folder on the couch seat, broke the letter’s seal and began to scan the contents. When her brother began the letter with another guilt-lined plea, she shoved it into the folder. In those few sentences, he admitted that he hadn’t paid the five-hundred pounds she’d given him toward the worst of the debts he’d incurred, a racing wager. He feared public knowledge of his inability to pay would soon be discovered by his club members.
Her idiot brother could afford to have membership at a club? He’d sent his rude, officious wife to demand assistance, while she struggled every day to put off her own debtors and keep the students and her aunts fed. A terrible weariness made her sit and no longer care about bits of tree bark and field mud smudging the damask.
She couldn’t remember what it was like to have no worries but what pleasant thing to do that day. Carnall’s solution began to take on a different aspect. He would take care of her, just as he tended to spoil his sisters. Was it so wrong to yearn for a day of peace, to allow someone else to carry the burdens for a while?
A vision rose, blurring the glow of sunlight on the windows. She imagined sprawling on a wide bed with Carnall, letting him fulfill his promises. No more worries about which bill to pay or how to supply the kitchen with something for the next meal. Would it be so difficult to shrug off her pride and problems and let him take over?
Then she remembered Lady Lucinda’s veiled warning. Was it a hint that she’d been spurned by Carnall, or that Ana was merely deluding herself?
Too confused to sort things out properly, she exhaled a weary breath and went to put the folder somewhere safe from prying eyes, meaning her aunts’, but was stopped before reaching the door. It swung open, revealing Carnall.
Conscious of her bedraggled state, Ana stepped back, wishing the man would allow her a measure of privacy. She had come to realize that he was a person who acted on whatever he had in mind, bowling over whatever came in his way.
She didn’t allow him to speak. “Sir, I’ve not had a moment to myself. Please allow me to change before we delve into the next problem.”
“I come with solutions, not problems.” He grabbed her hand and slid a ring on it. She gaped at the claddagh-styled ring, gold carved with swirling designs and emerald stones. “My grandmother’s. I rode back to the Grange to fetch it. The engagement is now official.”
“Carnall, it is not! I never agreed.”
“Yes, you did. You may not remember the exact moment, but I do, most explicitly. And I love the way you say my name. Carnall, as it should be pronounced. The title has resided in England far too long. I hope you’ll agree to live part of the year at Kellington Downs.”
“What? Go to Ireland?” Bombarded with so much unexpected information, her mind started to spin. She grasped the first impediment to pierce the mental jumble. “I can’t leave the school.”
“Then do not, but you must have a rest from this place. Now that we are betrothed, I’ll have my steward pay your outstanding bills. Is t
hat a list?”
She jerked the folder behind her back. “No, this belongs to my brother.”
“Ah, I’d forgotten about him. Perhaps you could write to him. We should be introduced as soon as possible. I didn’t think to ask his permission, not that you would allow it. I don’t doubt that you’ve been very much your own person since in leading strings.”
“Carnall, please!”
He swept her up in his arms and kissed the protestations from her mouth. It wasn’t long before she wilted, no longer caring that she was disheveled. The folder slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor.
After he rendered her bleary and pliant, he lazily nuzzled her neck and ear. “That’s my girl, all sweet and welcoming. Stay like this for me until I return.” When she leaned back to look at his face, he said, “I must go up to London for a day. Do you have a message for Letty?”
She blinked to focus. “You’ll be seeing Lady Bainbridge?”
He brushed his nose back and forth over hers. “Hhmm, and think on this, if you weren’t tied hoof and tail to this place, you could have come with me up to London. I’m sure the Asterlys or Sir Harry and Lady Collyns would welcome you. A night or two in town and then a leisurely drive back.”
The idea beckoned. What would it be like to dash off on a whim, no worries or responsibilities? Then she returned to her senses.
“Unfair, sir. Do not tempt me.” She withdrew from his embrace with a push, due to his reluctance to release her. “You have the freedom to come and go without so much as a by your leave. I cannot, but I will have Jack ride over to the Grange this evening with a letter. Now you must allow me to change. There are leaves still attached to my hem.”
“I would be happy to stop by here in the morning.”
She knew all too well what would happen if he did. “You have run tame, in and out of here with such frequency that I do not wish to imagine what everyone must be thinking.”
“Let them think what they like.”
When he attempted to talk her into an early morning visit, she shook her head and gestured at the door. “No, sir. Be on your way.”
After he’d gone, she studied the ring and didn’t know what to think. It had happened so fast, and like Carnall, never what she expected. He was not to be thwarted, and was, as it had been said, a force to be reckoned with. The reality of her future began to register. With his wealth, bills would become nonexistent, the future for her aunts and the school secure. Relieved tears fell unchecked. She picked up the folder and climbed the servant stairs to hide her fragile state.
The distant chatter of girls leaving their classes and joining for a walk out of doors before dining reminded her of the poor luck she’d had shooting this morning. That might not have been the case if Squire Hensley hadn’t scared off a brace of pheasants. She stopped on the steps and put a hand on her brow. Oh, dear, she’d forgotten to tell the kitchen that she hadn’t bagged any birds. Cook would have to make the joint of smoked ham stretch for a full week. She allowed her hand to fall to her side. No, she could buy on credit now, assured there would be funds to pay the bill.
Safely behind a closed bedroom door, Ana sank down with a thump on the nearest chair and allowed the folder to fall to the floor. Tears kept falling. She cupped her face in her hands to muffle sobs. The relief was too much to absorb. No more groveling for loans. No more scrimping and worrying. Carnall was impossibly rich. He would simply have his agent handle everything.
Exhausted, she shed her clothes, bathed and fell on the bed for a nap. Snuggling with the pillow, she sank into a sound, deep sleep. Carnall. He would take care of the problems for a while.
Chapter 13
Carnall entered the drawing room at Ravenswold House on Portman Square. Bainbridge and Freddy were waiting, the ladies absent as Carnall had requested. He accepted a tumbler of port from Ravenswold and commandeered a spot by the fireplace. Radiant heat soon thawed his chill. Everyone stayed silent while he soaked in the warmth. He had pushed for speed and his friends wouldn’t bother with the usual civilities. They had come together to discuss revenge.
He lifted his glass to the company. “Have you any word regarding our plot?”
Ravenswold sat, heaved a satisfied sigh and said, “Tis done.”
Astonished, Carnall lowered his untouched drink. “How so, and so quickly? I haven’t heard of any races being run.”
Freddy snickered. “Rave, here, set it up as a match race.”
Carnall watched Freddy bend to catch a flame to a straw and raise it to light a cigarillo. There was a general feeling of fulfillment in the atmosphere that Carnall couldn’t fully accept. Perhaps it had been accomplished too easily and swiftly for him to absorb the fact that justice had been done. More likely, he hadn’t had his own hand directly involved in the plot, which made it seem that nothing had happened.
He turned to his host, who held a tumbler of amber liquid in a lean, tanned hand. “Tell me, Rave, how it was accomplished so quickly and the end result.”
“Freddy, Bainbridge and I decided ‘when ‘tis done, then twere well it were done quickly’ for your sake.”
Carnall pressed his lips into a line and nodded. “You had it in mind that the deed should be enacted while I was elsewhere.”
Rave lifted his tumbler to the firelight and contemplated the brandy’s glint and sparkle while he spoke. “We thought it a wiser course and easier to keep your name out of the business. Waiting for the proper race could take until next Season. Too much could happen between now and then. We set up a match race after Freddy manipulated Wrexall into thinking the race was entirely his idea. I later warned Wrexall, in the strictest confidence, of course, not to wager on the horse everyone would think of as a sure thing.”
“How did you convince him?”
Rave’s lips curved in a smirk. “Nothing to it. Merely made sure Wrexall overheard me saying that Windmaster fetched up lame, but that Ravenswold Stud was put in such a position that the race must be run. Smug with his secret, Wrexall wagered everything he possessed on the other horse. Bainbridge matched the bets. We wrote it down in the betting books. Windmaster won by three lengths. It’s all over town. Wrexall’s quite ruined.”
Carnall surveyed the satisfaction of his friends. Bainbridge showed the least, but it was his habit to conceal what he was thinking. He’d become more confident about revealing his emotions, now that he’d wedded the practical and sweet-natured Letty. With her by his side, he’d found it easier to relax and express himself vocally. Physically, he’d never had an issue with carrying through with his more contrary opinions. People, who knew Bainbridge well, maintained a safe distance from the bone breakage he left in his wake when riled.
Freddy had changed little since his coming to title and marriage, but today, he wore a broader smile than usual. He was the sort who liked intrigue and his victory grin made him look more pirate than peer.
Ravenswold typically displayed nothing but placid good will. Today, an aura of satisfaction enveloped him, spreading out over the room. He stood, finished the brandy in his tumbler, and tossed his own cigarillo into the fireplace. “Cass is waiting with the ladies. We should join her.”
Carnall allowed the gentlemen to precede him. He paused to draw Bainbridge aside. “Geoff, tell Letty how indebted I am for her clever suggestion. I could think of no other stratagem to seek justice for what had been done to my sister without embroiling her in scandal.”
“My Letty doesn’t like it when her friends are made unhappy. I like you, Carnall, so there’s an end to it.”
“Perhaps, and it isn’t that I am not grateful. It’s that I still feel oddly unsettled by the anticlimax. It doesn’t feel quite right. Vengeance seems almost too easily accomplished.”
“Know exactly what you mean. There’s nothing like planting a facer on one’s adversaries.”
“Perhaps that’s what bothers.”
Bainbridge slapped him on the back. “Nonsense. What are friends for if not aligning oneself in the lin
e of fire?”
Since Bainbridge had no idea of his strength, the companionable pat almost unbalanced Carnall.
They joined Lady Ravenswold, Rave and Freddy in a cozy sitting room where the countess had set up a tray with coffee and tea. She wore a turquoise gown and her copper-gold hair wreathed in braids. Cassandra Ravenswold, after the birth of three children and another on the way, still reigned as the most beautiful woman in England. She had no airs, no artifice and lacked patience for either. She terrified most people with her blunt manner and showed no dismay or alarm when an unexpected visitor entered with a burst through the door.
A disheveled and wild-looking Lord Wrexall struggled with footmen. He shook off clutching servants and stumbled a few steps into the room before pulling himself upright. A tug of his waistcoat and coat cuffs brought some order to his rumpled appearance. He swept his hand through tousled brown curls and lifted his chin to his onlookers.
“Lady Ravenswold, my lords, forgive the intrusion.”
Ravenswold, who had settled in a chair by the fire, said, “No, Wrexall, I don’t believe we shall,” his deep voice rumbled. He looked at the hovering footmen. “His lordship is leaving.”
Red-faced, Wrexall shouted, “A word, Ravenswold!”
Ravenswold quietly said, “Not this evening. I spoke clearly enough. Remove Lord Wrexall.”
A footman moved to stand in front of Wrexall, who shoved him aside. “Now I see it. Here s the proof of your perfidy. You tricked me! Cheating bastards, the lot of you. For shame, sirs, hiding behind a duplicitous woman’s skirts.”
Most supposed Ravenswold to be not much more than a slumberous giant. Few had seen the earl’s temper. He came out of his chair and across the room, sank his hands into Wrexall’s neck cloth and lifted the man off the floor. Desperate, Wrexall flailed at Ravenswold’s chokehold. He used his nails to dig into his captor’s wrists as his complexion went quickly from ruddy to ashen.
Ravenswold dealt his captive a single, violent shake. “You dare to enter my house and insult my wife. I’ll have you mounted on the wall—
