Passion Becomes Her

by Shirlee Busbee

  Now that the marquis had quitted London, assumptions aside, it was almost a certainty that Thalia’s three letters were hidden somewhere within his palatial home. The most likely place the marquis would have put them was in the safe in his study. Like many other people Asher could name, Ormsby thought his safe was cleverly hidden behind a huge landscape by Gainsborough that hung on the wall opposite the marble fireplace. Asher shook his head. First place any experienced thief would look. He grinned. He’d found Ormsby’s safe and examined it years ago when the idea of stealing the Ormsby diamonds had originally occurred to him; that knowledge would prove useful now. Breaking into the house wouldn’t present much of a challenge; the room was on the east side of the sprawling mansion and faced a small garden. From the study a pair of French doors opened onto it and would allow him easy access. Even better, Ormsby wouldn’t be expecting a thief brazen enough to break in to the house when everyone in the neighborhood knew the marquis to be in residence.

  Asher wasn’t ignoring the dangers or being overconfident. He trusted his skills, honed during numerous situations like this one, but he was also aware that the slightest miscalculation or misstep could bring disaster down on him. His lips twisted. And leave him in the gaol and his grandmother and the rest of his family unable to show their faces in public because of his disgrace. No. Getting caught wasn’t in his plans.

  He stood up and walked to the window and stared out. Breaking into Ormsby’s house and opening the safe was a simple enough task for a man of his talents. It could get dicey, however, if Ormsby had installed a new safe within the past few years or if the letters were not in the safe. He considered the idea for several minutes, then shrugged. A new safe might present difficulties, but none that a clever thief couldn’t overcome. If the letters weren’t in the safe, he’d have to reconsider the situation. Even if the letters were not in the safe, all might not be lost—it was possible that Ormsby was arrogant enough to keep them lying around in his desk, never thinking that a thief would dare rob the Marquis of Ormsby in his own home. Asher smiled. He couldn’t help it. He was going to enjoy filching those letters from Ormsby…and watching Juliana’s face light up when he laid them in her hands.

  After writing a few letters and telling Hannum he’d be gone for the day, Asher strolled down to the stables. In a matter of minutes he was tooling down the road in his curricle, pulled again by his favorite pair of blacks.

  Arriving at Burnham he found his grandmother waiting for him in the front parlor. Of the puppy there was no sign and after greeting his grandmother, he inquired after the missing Apollo.

  “Don’t you worry about him,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “He is presently visiting with Cook for the sole purpose of convincing her that the nice ham bone she was saving for some soup would be much better served if she gave it to him.” She laughed. “He learned immediately how easily a pitiful glance from those big brown eyes of his elicits the most delicious tidbits from Cook. And I am no better—as you probably guessed he has joined me in bed.” She beamed at him. “Oh, Asher! I do so enjoy having a dog with me again.” She shook her head. “But I fear that he is already spoiled beyond redemption.”

  She kissed him on the cheek and said, “Thank you, my dear. I did not know how dull my days were until Apollo arrived. He is just the tonic I needed.”

  Together they walked into the foyer where Mrs. Manley’s butler, Dudley, was waiting with her parasol and gloves and a small reed basket packed with two jars of her favorite restorative jellies. Once she was settled in the curricle, the basket snug against her side, Asher leaped nimbly into the vehicle and, lifting the reins, set the horses trotting smartly down the driveway.

  Reaching the main road, he kept the horses at the same pace and, glancing over at his grandmother, caught her watching him with a speculative gaze. Smiling, he demanded, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Did you know,” she began conversationally, her eyes now on the road ahead, “that I have always had a fondness for the Kirkwood girls, Juliana especially?” She obviously didn’t expect a reply, because she rattled on. “And of course, Thalia is a charming girl and a great beauty, but I didn’t realize that she was to your taste.”

  Asher’s hands on the reins jerked and he shot his grandmother an incredulous look. “You think this is about Thalia?” he demanded.

  “What else can I think when my favorite grandson, who has never paid the least heed to any of the young ladies in the neighborhood, suddenly asks me to accompany him to the reigning beauty’s home?” she asked reasonably.

  “This has nothing to do with Thalia,” he muttered. “It seemed a neighborly thing to do.” He cleared his throat. “And it was Juliana I was thinking of, more than Thalia. I’m sure that Juliana would enjoy a break from the sick room and nursing the invalid.”

  She sent him a bright look. “Ah, I am to keep Thalia occupied while you and Juliana share a few minutes alone?”

  He grinned at her. “Do you mind?”

  She shook her head and grinned back at him. “I suspected it was something like that, but I wanted to be certain. And I must say, I am relieved.”

  “Relieved? Why?”

  “I know she is a beauty, but Thalia would never be my first choice for a granddaughter-in-law.”

  He shuddered. “Good God, no!”

  “But Juliana will do very nicely, I think,” she said, and patted him on the arm.

  Asher yanked his horses to a stop in the middle of the road. Ignoring the plunging and rearing of the horses at such cow-handed handling, he turned to stare at his grandmother. “You’re matchmaking,” he accused, his expression outraged.

  His grandmother laughed. “Oh, Asher, if you could see your face!” Her eyes tender, she caressed his cheek. “At this moment, you look so much like your grandfather and mother that it takes my breath away.”

  “That’s a dashed silly thing to say. Mother was a beauty and I ain’t,” he said loftily, “beetle-browed and beaky nosed like the portrait of him in the gallery at Burnham!”

  She laughed. “Oh, I agree—that awful portrait! Believe me, my dear, he looked nothing like that.”

  “And furthermore,” he growled, reverting back to the original subject, “I have no intention of marrying Juliana Greeley. I am merely trying to be polite.”

  She looked back at him. “Are you so sure?”

  Setting his horses in motion once more, his eyes firmly ahead, he said, “Of course I am! Marriage is the last thing I…” The words died in his throat. Hadn’t he been thinking of marriage just the other night? Hadn’t he gone to his bed, considering the notion? The memory of Juliana spread out like a feast for a starving man on the poacher’s table scorched through his mind and it didn’t take much imagination from him to place her in his bed at Fox Hollow. As his wife.

  He glanced over at his grandmother and found her watching him with a knowing smile. “Stop it,” he said, half laughing. “You’re manipulating me.”

  She shook her head. “No. Simply trying to make you see what is right in front of you.”

  “You’ve done so,” he admitted wryly. “Now let it rest. When and if I decide to marry anybody, let me do my own courting.”

  “Just as long as you court the right woman.”

  Mr. Kirkwood was pleased that they had come to call, but Asher could see the signs of strain on the man’s face and to his eye, Juliana’s father seemed even more distracted than usual. While others might not notice it, knowing the circumstances it was obvious that the threat Ormsby presented to his youngest daughter’s happiness was preying on his mind. Though he hid it well, there was to Asher’s eye a forced manner about Mr. Kirkwood’s welcome, and after a brief visit with the pair of them, Mr. Kirkwood rang for a servant to fetch Juliana. Everything went just as Asher had planned. In a matter of minutes Mr. Kirkwood had retreated to his library, Mrs. Manley was upstairs entertaining the invalid, and Asher had whisked Juliana away for a stroll through the gardens.

>   It was a warm day and they did not hurry down the various winding paths, Juliana eventually leading him to a shady arbor covered with twining yellow and white roses. Seating herself on one of the stone benches inside, after arranging the skirts of her green sprigged muslin gown, she looked over expectantly at Asher.

  It had been years since they had spent any time in each other’s company and the Asher of today was far different from the boy she had known in her childhood. Surreptitiously she eyed him. He sat down next to her, his shoulders resting against the back of the bench, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Her gaze wandered to his tousled black hair, worn a trifle longer than the fashion of the day, but she decided that the careless style suited his lean, almost swarthy features. The dark blue coat fit his muscular body superbly, his cravat was neatly tied and the nankeen breeches clearly defined his strong legs. His black boots were spotless.

  Not unaware of her examination, the cobalt eyes gleaming with laughter, he teased, “Do I pass inspection?”

  Juliana flushed, embarrassed to be caught staring. Stiffly, she said, “I apologize.”

  “Don’t. Stare as much as you like…provided I can take the same liberties.”

  “Oh, cease!” she said impatiently. “I am not in the mood to bandy words with you.” She glanced at him. “Have you made any plans to get back Thalia’s letters?”

  Asher shrugged. “Certainly. I’ll take a couple nights to reconnoiter and then if all looks well, I’ll strike. Assuming they are where I think they are, you’ll have Thalia’s letters back before too many more days pass.”

  “I pray God you are right,” she declared fervently. “The whole affair is wearing everyone down. Thalia is so fretful and I know that not all of it is because of her illness. She feels so guilty and ashamed and is afraid of what the future may hold.” Juliana sighed and stared down at her hands folded in her lap. “And poor Papa is beside himself with worry. He, too, is full of guilt and because of his inability to save her is nearly as ashamed as Thalia. It is dreadful.”

  Asher’s warm hand covered hers. “And what of you?” he asked softly, astounded at how badly he wanted to shoulder her problems and slay the dragons that threatened her peace of mind.

  Juliana deftly removed her hand from beneath his and half laughed, half cried, “Oh, I am, as usual, being the rock of the family. I cannot give way to despair because if I do they will both feel that all is lost.”

  “Your father is a grown man. Your sister is no child and this situation is of her making. Don’t you think it’s time that they both stopped relying on you for rescue and stood up and took care of their own problems?” he asked sharply.

  “How dare you!” she exclaimed, glaring at him. “I came to you for help, not for criticism of my family!”

  Conscious of the misstep, Asher threw up his hands and said, “I apologize. I spoke without thought and did not mean to find fault.” He smiled crookedly at her. “Forgive me? Please?”

  When he looked at her in just that fashion, with that uneven smile curving his mouth and the dark blue eyes warm and caressing, Juliana feared that she would forgive him just about anything. Angry with herself, she muttered, “Of course. You have promised to help and I do not want to be at daggers drawing with you. I have troubles enough without adding to them.”

  Looking down at his crossed ankles, Asher said wryly, “After what I discovered last night, I’m afraid that you have more troubles than you realize.”

  “What do you mean?” she demanded, her eyes wide with alarm.

  Bluntly he told her of the events that had occurred after they had parted. For several seconds after he finished speaking, there was silence in the arbor.

  “Good God!” she finally burst out. “Ormsby has placed a spy in our midst? Why? He has the letters.”

  “I suspect he’s taking no chances that the prize slips away from him.”

  “But as long as he has the letters—”

  “The letters only have as much power as you are willing to give them,” Asher said. “Suppose Thalia takes it in her head to throw caution to the winds and elope with Caswell?” Juliana started to protest such an idea, but Asher held up his hand, silencing her. “Think about it for a moment. The instant Thalia becomes his wife, the power shifts to Caswell. Once Caswell and Thalia are married, it’s true that Ormsby could still make the letters public, but that wouldn’t reflect well on him, now would it? Society might look askance at your sister, but Ormsby’s role in the whole affair, especially an attempt to ruin a young bride married to a well-liked gentleman of the ton, would make him look the scoundrel he is. Ormsby wouldn’t risk that happening.” When Juliana looked thoughtful, he added, “Don’t forget, Caswell is reputed to be both an excellent swordsman and marksman—do you think that Ormsby would be willing to die on the dueling field?”

  “And don’t you forget that Ormsby’s reputation on the dueling field isn’t to be lightly dismissed,” Juliana said almost absently. Asher’s words made a great deal of good sense and she wondered why none of them had ever considered the cost to Ormsby if he went ahead with his threats. Because, she thought bitterly, we were only thinking of the price we would pay—and Ormsby was counting on that. Something occurred to her and she gasped. Looking at Asher, she said, “Ormsby has planted a spy to warn him when Caswell arrives—especially if he arrives clandestinely. He’s hoping to prevent Thalia and Caswell from eloping!”

  Asher nodded. “That’s my conclusion.” He grinned at her. “Ormsby isn’t as confident as he pretends. He may hold the letters, but he doesn’t hold Thalia.”

  Frowning, Juliana stared ahead. “There’s no question of an elopement at this time—not with Thalia covered in spots.” She bit her lip. “And I don’t know that Caswell would agree to an elopement…not without knowing why it is so imperative. And once he knows the reason behind it…” She grimaced. “Instead of eloping with her, he’s just as likely to walk away and break Thalia’s heart or challenge Ormsby to a duel. Neither outcome is particularly appealing.”

  He looked curiously at her. “You don’t think Caswell loves her enough to overlook the letters?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I believe that he is devoted to her and truly loves her, and what she did isn’t so very bad, but Ormsby will make it out to be so much worse.” She made a face. “No gentleman wants to marry a woman who may have already played him false.”

  “Hmmm, I wonder if it went that far,” Asher mused aloud.

  Juliana shot him a fierce look. “Thalia may be a little goose, but she would never have allowed Ormsby to seduce her!” she said hotly. “She may have met him secretly, at his instigation, I might remind you, and she wrote some foolish letters but that is all.”

  Asher kept his thought to himself and murmured, “Then we have nothing to worry about. I shall get your sister’s letters back for you.” He glanced at her. “From what I told you about him, do you have any idea who the man is that I followed to Ormsby’s last night?”

  “Yes,” she said glumly. “Just before we left for London this spring, Papa hired a new stable man. We hadn’t yet learned of Ormsby’s perfidious nature and at that time, when Papa mentioned that he was looking for someone, Ormsby suggested Willie Dockery for the job. Willie’s brother, Melvin, is now his head stable man and has worked for Ormsby since he was a boy; Ormsby spoke very highly of Melvin. All of our other servants have been with us for years. It can only be Willie.” Her lips tightened. “He shall be gone from the place before the hour passes.”

  “I would advise you not to send him packing.” When she looked at him surprised, he added, “You know this fellow’s identity and where he is, which means you can use him to your own ends.” He cocked a brow. “There have been no complaints from your head stable man about him?”

  “None that I know of, but that doesn’t matter—I want him gone.”

  “If you abruptly fire Willie,” Asher said quietly, “it will arouse Ormsby’s suspicions and m
ight cause him to take some sort of action we won’t like.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “Of course, you’re right. I hadn’t considered that.” Her expression troubled, she asked, “So what are we to do? Let that snake continue to nest in the stable?”

  He grinned at her. “At least we know where the snake is.”

  She shuddered theatrically. “Wonderful.”

  After Asher and his grandmother bid Juliana and her father good-bye, they drove away from Kirkwood. Asher thought that the meeting with Juliana had gone well and he was pleased that he now knew the identity of the stable man he had followed last night. He wasn’t certain how to make use of that information just yet, but he was confident he would think of something.

  “You look rather satisfied with yourself,” his grandmother said, breaking into his thoughts.

  “I just spent an enjoyable half hour with a charming woman. Why shouldn’t I be satisfied?” He lifted a brow. “And your visit with the lovely Thalia?”

  “Well, the poor thing isn’t so lovely at the moment. The spots really are dreadful and she is just covered with them.” She frowned. “She was pitifully happy to see me and so grateful for the jam, but I’m a trifle worried about her. I know she is not comfortable and no doubt mortified at her condition but she seemed…too fretful and too cast down for my liking. I fear something is preying on her mind.” Her frown grew. “And now that I think of it, Kirkwood seemed unusually distracted—even for him.” She threw Asher a considering glance. “Is there something that you are not telling me?”

  “Why, no,” he said, looking innocent. When she continued to stare at him, he added hastily, “Grandmother, I hardly know the young lady and haven’t exchanged a word with her in years. As for Kirkwood, I have not met the man more than a half dozen times in my life. What could I know?”

  She watched him for another, very long minute and then shrugged. “Of course, you couldn’t know anything.” Her eyes on the road once again, she asked abruptly, “Have you seen John or your stepfather since you’ve been home?”