He waited to let her precede him from the room, then followed her out. Suddenly she wished she hadn’t mentioned going upstairs to change her clothes. The idea of leaving him unattended in the house made her feel strangely uneasy.
They had just walked out into the corridor when Charles suddenly appeared. He was slightly out of breath and looked curiously harried. “Forgive me, my lady, for not being here when you got back from your ride. Mrs. Foy sent me off to the village on an errand. I only just now returned.”
“No harm done,” she said. “I have been getting acquainted with Mr. Landsdowne, Lord Northcote’s uncle. We were just on our way to the drawing room to take tea. Could you ask David to let Cook know to make up the tray?”
“Of course, my lady.”
“In the meantime, would you be so good as to show Mr. Landsdowne to the drawing room.” She turned back to the older man. “If you’ll pardon me for a few minutes, Uncle Sidney, I will just nip upstairs to change.”
“Certainly, Esme. Please, take your time.”
But time was the last thing she was going to squander.
Hurrying upstairs with the dogs following, she rang for Paula, then went into her dressing room to select a gown. Two of the cats watched with sleepy feline gazes as her maid arrived to help her wash quickly and slip into an afternoon gown of soft chestnut-colored wool.
A check of the hall clock showed that a mere fifteen minutes had passed. Pausing to smooth her gown and collect her nerves, she took a deep breath and walked into the drawing room.
It was with relief that she noticed Charles standing at attention on the far side of the room. Clearly, he had understood her silent message, exactly as she’d hoped.
Landsdowne got to his feet at her entrance. “That was speedy.”
“Yes, with six older brothers, I’ve learned over the years not to dawdle too long over my wardrobe.” She took a place on the sofa while he resumed the chair opposite.
“That’s right. You are a Byron,” he drawled in an unctuous tone, as though he didn’t entirely approve.
She wasn’t used to people slighting her family—at least not to her face. Generally, they were more likely to fawn rather than cast aspersions.
She was saved from the necessity of replying when the tea tray arrived moments later. To her surprise, Mrs. Foy was the one to bring it in, rather than a maid. On previous occasions, the housekeeper had made it quite plain that such duties were beneath her, but apparently not today. Esme could only assume it was because Mr. Landsdowne was the guest.
“Welcome again, sir,” the housekeeper said. “It is so good to have you here at Ten Elms once more.”
“Indeed, it is good to be back. It rouses memories of days long past.”
“Oh, it does, sir, it does.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Foy. You were always so attentive. This all looks most excellent,” he said.
The housekeeper smiled; Esme had never before seen her smile.
Clearly, Landsdowne and Mrs. Foy knew each other well. In fact, she must have been his housekeeper back when Gabriel’s uncle had been in control of the estate. And Starr must have been his butler. Suddenly, Esme understood whose orders they were still following whenever she attempted to change something—and they weren’t Gabriel’s.
Since coming here, she’d learned that Gabriel was rarely in residence. Rather than hire new servants, he must have left the old ones in place, staff who clearly had an old allegiance.
As Esme watched, Landsdowne and Foy exchanged a curiously conspiratorial look that made her wonder if this was not his first visit back since Gabriel had become the viscount.
“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Foy,” she said, interrupting the silent exchange. “That will be all for now.”
The housekeeper’s smile disappeared. “Of course, my lady.”
Once the older woman left, Esme served the tea and sandwiches. They all contained meat, so she took a sweet biscuit for herself instead.
They ate and talked at a leisurely pace, Landsdowne commenting on the weather and the habits of the fauna and flora in the area.
“Delicious,” he pronounced after a time. “I wonder if we could have some more of the ham and chicken sandwiches?” He glanced toward Charles, who stood quietly off to one side of the room. “Perhaps this young man might be so good as to procure a few more?”
Esme realized she could hardly refuse. Besides, “Uncle Sidney” had been a pleasant enough companion these past twenty minutes. Perhaps she had misjudged him earlier.
“Of course.” She nodded to Charles. “Please inform Cook that Mr. Landsdowne would like more of the ham and chicken. And a fresh pot of tea as well.”
“Very good, milady.” With a bow, the footman departed.
“I’m sure it won’t take above a few minutes.”
“No matter.” He leaned back in his chair. “We’ve time.”
She resisted the urge to frown, hoping he wasn’t hinting that she should invite him to lodge here at Ten Elms overnight.
“So,” he said conversationally, “what exactly has your husband told you about us? The Landsdowne side of the family, that is?”
He met her gaze, his eyes that same unnerving arctic blue.
“Oh, not a great deal, I’m afraid.” She placed her cup onto its saucer. “Only that he lost his parents and older brother some years ago.”
“And nothing else?”
“No, not really. Gabriel is a very private sort of man.”
“Is he? How interesting that you think so.” Landsdowne took a sip of his tea. “I cannot say I am surprised, though, that he hasn’t confided in you. His is hardly a tale suited to delicate sensibilities, and yet, had he any decency, he would have told you the truth. Then again, Gabriel has never been a decent man.”
“What is it exactly that you think he ought to have told me?”
“Why only that his mother was a loose-moraled bit of baggage who led his father to his death.”
Her cup rattled as she set it onto the tea table. “That is a most disturbing accusation.”
“It’s not an accusation. It is a fact. His mother was nothing but a whore. Her affairs were legendary. I am surprised the rumors never reached your ears, since even young misses gossip about such things despite everyone pretending otherwise. But I forget, do I not, that you and my nephew married in rather a hurry? Something to do with a lurid drawing, if I was rightly informed.”
Esme’s spine grew rigid. Suddenly she didn’t think very highly of Sidney Landsdowne again.
“You must have noticed that none of us attended the wedding,” he went on. “Oh yes, we were informed and chose not to give credence to yet another one of Gabriel’s sordid peccadilloes. He’s spent his life disgracing this family, but then, like mother, like son, I’ve always said.”
“That is quite enough.”
His eyes narrowed. “Oh, I think not. After all, have you no interest in knowing just what sort of man you married?”
Her fingers balled into a fist in her lap. “I already know everything I need to about my husband. He is a good man.”
Landsdowne tossed his head back on a laugh, the sound as chilling as his cold gaze. “Good? Now, there’s a word that was never associated with my nephew. Yes, he’s so good he abandoned you here, alone, in this house. Don’t think I don’t know all about it.”
“Do you? Did Mrs. Foy tell you, perhaps?”
He arched a brow. “My, but you’re a smart one, aren’t you? Yes, Mrs. Foy keeps me informed on occasion about things she thinks might be of interest. As for your absent bridegroom, he is back in London, up to all his old profligate ways, whatever he may be telling you otherwise.”
Her hands turned cold, fingers trembling suddenly.
“He’s the very devil, miss, and no mistake about it.” Landsdowne’s voice deepened as he leaned closer. “Why, I could tell you
stories that would curl your pretty hair. I tried to curb his excesses at an early age; I was the only one to recognize the evil in him. But even regular beatings couldn’t drive the sinful pride and determined wickedness from that boy’s soul.”
She gasped, her eyes gone wide with undisguised horror. “You beat Gabriel when he was a child?”
“Of course I did, once he became my ward. My brother was always far too indulgent with him, so someone needed to try to drive the wickedness out. But it would seem I was too late; the damage had already been done.”
Esme stared, knowing suddenly that she was looking at a monster.
“Then again,” Landsdowne continued, “my brother was far too indulgent with everyone, especially that tart wife of his. Rather than putting a halt to her loose ways, he gave her free rein until her scandals drove him to madness.”
He paused, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “He killed her—did you know that? Chased after her in a jealous rage when she ran away with one of her lovers. When he caught up to them, he shot the pair of them dead, right there where they lay naked in each other’s arms. But rather than say good riddance to that worthless bitch, he turned the gun on himself and took his own life.”
His eyes burned, and he appeared half-mad himself.
Esme shrank back.
“I blame her,” he raged softly. “Her and her useless brat. Her little angel, Gabriel. That’s what she always called him. Her little angel. At least she did when she bothered to remember his existence. I’ve always wondered which one of her lovers was actually his father.”
“What?” Shock ran like a live charge through Esme’s veins.
“That’s right.” He smiled with a kind of grim glee, baring his teeth. “He’s a bastard, and in more ways than temperament. Oh, my brother never believed it, naive fool that he was. Said Gabriel took after his mother and he had no doubts of her fidelity, not then, at least. But all the evidence was there, right before his very eyes, if only he’d chosen to pay attention.
“The Landsdownes are blond.” He gestured toward his own head of hair, which must have been golden in his youth. “We have always been blond and blue-eyed, all the way back to the very first Landsdownes who fought on the Lancastrian side during the Wars of the Roses. Go to the portrait gallery and you will see. Blond, every one of them, until him.”
He sneered. “Gabriel, who looks nothing like any of his paternal family. He was always a changeling. Brown hair and those damned yellow eyes. And tall. He outstripped his brother by nearly a foot by the time they were out of leading strings. But none of it really mattered until Matthew perished. Matthew, who was meant to be the heir. Matthew, who was the real Landsdowne, not that impostor who stole this family’s birthright, the noble title of Northcote.”
Esme sat unmoving, stunned. She’d been in the family portrait gallery more than once since her arrival, drawn, of course, to the glorious art. Now that Landsdowne pointed it out, she had noticed a preponderance of blond hair and blue eyes among the subjects. But even if Gabriel’s coloring was darker than that of most of his ancestors, it only meant that he took after his mother, not that he was illegitimate.
She’d seen the Gainsborough painting of the late Lady Northcote and remembered being struck by how very alike Gabriel was to her. She’d seen portraits of his father and brother as well, identified by tiny metal nameplates. Curiously enough, there was no portrait of Sidney Landsdowne. Had Gabriel removed it? She wouldn’t blame him if he had, considering all that she had just learned.
“What is it you want, Mr. Landsdowne?” she asked bluntly. “Why have you come here when you so clearly hate my husband?”
Her question seemed to catch him off guard, and he refocused his attention. He smiled, looking for a moment like a kindly uncle rather than the brute he actually was.
“Why, to help you, dear lady. To warn you.”
“Warn me about what?” She tilted her head, a shiver running over her skin.
“That devil you’ve wed, of course. I wish I could have done something to prevent your nuptials, but it was already too late by the time I learned you were to wed. He had already compromised you too thoroughly to attempt an intercession.” He shifted in his chair. “I did intercede once before, though, several years ago. I congratulate myself even now in preventing his efforts to marry a lovely young woman named Amanda. But with my assistance, she was saved from your present sad fate.”
Gabriel had wanted to marry someone else years ago? Who was she? And had he loved her?
Forcing herself not to think of such things, she straightened her spine and looked Landsdowne in the eye. “I don’t consider my present fate to be a sad one.”
“Oh, come now,” he scoffed. “My nephew has already abandoned you here so he can return to all his iniquitous pursuits in the city. This is only the beginning of a life of misery for you, and if you would only think on it, you would see that you need to leave now, while you still can. He hasn’t bred you yet, has he?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Got you with child, girl. Or is that why the two of you wed in the first place?” His gaze went to her stomach, inspecting for a telltale shape.
She bristled outwardly. “It was not, and I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head, sir.”
“Civil or not, you would do well to pack your bags and hurry back to the bosom of your family. A man such as your brother the duke ought to be able to protect you. Though why he let you marry a profligate like my accursed nephew, I shall never understand.”
“Get out!”
“What?”
She got to her feet. “I said, get out. Be gone now and do not ever think of coming back. I promise you will be shown the door.”
“Well, I never—” Landsdowne leapt up, blustering.
“Of course you have,” she said. “No wonder Gabriel refuses to even speak of you. You are a cruel, vile man who clearly feeds off his own hatred and jealousy. Rather than being kind to my husband when he was nothing but a defenseless child, you abused and degraded him when you ought to have shown him love. Having spent a mere hour in your company, I can safely say that I have no wish ever to see you again.”
A menacing expression came over Landsdowne’s face, cold brutality in his eyes. Was this how he’d looked years ago when he’d beaten Gabriel? Was this what Gabriel had faced every day for years before he’d finally grown old enough to escape his uncle’s vindictive grasp?
“I can see now that you are beyond assistance,” Landsdowne told her. “He has already polluted your mind and no doubt corrupted your body as well. You deserve him.”
She drew herself up proudly. “You are right. I do. Now I must ask you once more to leave. Or do I need to have one of the servants escort you out?”
“Oh, and which one would that be?” he taunted. “All of them are still loyal to me.”
“Not all.” From the corner of her eye, she noticed that Charles had returned, the plate of sandwiches in his hand. He set them down. “My lady. May I be of assistance?”
“Yes, you may. Charles, Mr. Landsdowne was just leaving. If you would be so good as to show him out.”
The footman stepped to one side, waiting for Landsdowne to walk past.
Landsdowne glared. “Insolent chit. You will receive no further welcome from me or mine.”
“Good. If they are yours, then I want no welcome. Good day, sir.”
After chuffing out a breath, he spun on his heels and stalked away. Charles followed.
It was only once he’d gone that she realized she was trembling, head to foot. Laying a hand across her stomach, she sank back down onto the sofa, afraid otherwise that her knees might give out.
In the distance, she heard the front door close and, a minute later, the sound of coach wheels driving away.
Charles returned. “He is gone, my lady. Will there be anythin
g else?”
She took a moment more to collect herself, then nodded. Before she could let herself collapse, she had one more thing to do.
“Yes, actually, there is. Please tell Mrs. Foy and Mr. Starr that I wish to see them immediately.”
If he wondered why, he didn’t give any indication. “Very good, milady.”
“Oh, and take those sandwiches away. I have no use for them.”
Charles picked up the tea tray and left.
Esme waited, hands folded in her lap.
Mrs. Foy and Starr entered the room a short while later.
“You asked to speak with us, my lady?” Mrs. Foy said in her usual cool tone.
“I did.” She looked at them, studying the pair with fresh eyes. “Mr. Starr, was it you who let Mr. Landsdowne into the house this afternoon, then left him unattended to roam at will?”
Starr and Foy exchanged looks. “I greeted him on his arrival, yes. But you were out at the time, my lady,” Mr. Starr said. “Mr. Landsdowne is his lordship’s uncle. I did not see any harm in leaving him unattended, as it were.”
She turned to the housekeeper. “Mrs. Foy, I am given to understand that you and Mr. Landsdowne are in the habit of corresponding with one another. Is that true?”
“Well, I write to him on occasion. But I have known Mr. Sidney for a great many years, since the time when he was a young man.”
“And this correspondence? Did it by chance involve information related to Lord Northcote and myself? Personal information that only someone in this household would be privy to?”
Mrs. Foy puffed out her bony chest. “I may have mentioned a few details here and there, but nothing of significance. As Mr. Starr said, Mr. Landsdowne is family.”
“Family who detests Lord Northcote and seeks only to do him harm. To do me harm.”
“Why, I—,” Mrs. Foy exclaimed.
“You are dismissed,” Esme said quietly. “Both of you.”
Two sets of eyes popped wide, and Mr. Starr’s and Mrs. Foy’s mouths opened and closed like a pair of fish caught on a line. “But, milady—,” Mr. Starr sputtered.
“You have no right,” Mrs. Foy declared. “It is up to the master to decide such things.”
Happily Bedded Bliss: The Rakes of Cavendish Square Page 24
