“Like father, like son?”
“Precisely. There have always been whispers about the Beverleys—they either got their way or terrible things happened to those unfortunate souls who thwarted their desires. Like what happened to my Captain,” she said with a slight catch in her voice. “Only sometimes it wasn’t only animals that died, sometimes men and the occasional woman died, too. The Beverley family always felt that they were entitled to the best of anything…that it is their right to own the fastest horse, the biggest jewel or bed the most beautiful woman.” Tiredly, she added, “And they will do whatever it takes to have it.”
Asher frowned. “Why haven’t you ever mentioned any of this before now?”
Her fingers tightened on his arm. “As long as there was no danger to you, I saw no reason to mutter warnings like some old witch stirring a pot.” In the darkness he could feel her eyes on him. “But after tonight, I fear for you. Whether you meant to insult him or not tonight, he will perceive your words as such and seek a way to punish you for your temerity.”
“What about you?” he asked grimly. “Won’t he go after you, too?”
She sighed. “He could, but I am an old woman and he wouldn’t get the same satisfaction from punishing me as he would you.” Urgently, she added, “Asher, you must always be on your guard.”
His warm hand covered hers. “Grandmother, I’m not afraid of Ormsby.”
“You should be,” she replied sharply.
“What would you have me do? Run and hide from him?” he asked dryly.
She laughed without humor. “As if you would! All I’m asking is that you take care and watch your back.”
Driving slowly toward Fox Hollow, Asher was thoughtful. His grandmother’s warning about Ormsby lingered and he found himself paying more attention to the passing countryside, his eyes searching the darkness, his ears straining to hear any sound that might herald a danger.
By the time he reached home and tossed the reins to the waiting stable boy, he was feeling a little silly. What did he expect—that Ormsby was going to leap out from behind a tree and attack him?
Dismissing Ormsby from his mind, he walked to the house and, going upstairs, stripped out of his evening finery, including his gleaming Hessians. He dragged on some buckskin breeches, a comfortable linen shirt, and pulled on a pair of old boots. Seeing no reason to tie another cravat, he left the shirt open at the throat and shrugged into a dark green jacket. With his grandmother’s words in the back of his head, he made certain a knife was in his boot and that he carried a pair of pistols beneath his jacket. No use making it easy for Ormsby.
At the stables, he saddled a nice chestnut gelding he’d bought several weeks ago at Tattersall’s and moments later, astride his horse, he was trotting down the driveway toward the main road and the meeting with Juliana.
The last of the carriages had hardly pulled away from Kirkwood before her father turned toward Juliana and cried despairingly, “What are we to do? Ormsby was furious. He will never forgive the insult and he will blame me, us for it.”
Conscious of Hudson listening in the background, Juliana urged her father down the hall and into his office. Shutting the door behind her, she said with more confidence than she felt, “You exaggerate. Yes, Ormsby was furious, but what happened was his own fault, and I’m sure once he thinks about it, he’ll realize that.”
Her father stared at her as if she had gone mad. “Have you forgotten that this is Ormsby we are talking about? The man who holds your sister’s future in his hands?” Walking to his book-and paper-littered desk, he sat down behind it and buried his head in his hands. “We are ruined. He will make the letters public or give them to Caswell.” Raising anguished eyes to Juliana’s face, he said dejectedly, “Either way, there is no hope of a happy future for Thalia.”
There was much truth in what her father said, but Juliana wasn’t going to allow bleak despair to overcome her. From the second her father had come home with the news that he had invited Ormsby to dinner tonight, she’d known that something had to be done about the marquis. Her hastily arranged dinner party had been nothing more than a thin wall built of sand to hold back the ocean and unless something was done, and quickly, Ormsby would drown them.
If she could take heart from anything, it was that Ormsby had not had things his own way and that he had been the one to leave with his tail between his legs. For tonight, she reminded herself miserably. He would be back and next time they might not escape unscathed.
She had no words of comfort for her father and, leaving him to his own black thoughts, she mounted the stairs to Thalia’s room. Thalia would be anxious to learn what had transpired and, not wanting her to fret, Juliana needed to see her and reassure her that the worst had not happened.
Taking one look at the frightened face turned her way when she entered the big bedroom, she knew she had been right to be worried about Thalia’s state.
Sitting bolt upright in the bed, her eyes huge in her pale face, Thalia asked fearfully, “He is not here any longer, is he?”
Forcing a smile, Juliana crossed the room and sank down on one side of the bed. Pushing back a strand of Thalia’s lank hair that had fallen across her forehead, she said, “No. The marquis is no longer in the house. You are safe.”
Relief made Thalia weak and she sank back against the bank of pillows piled behind her. “I was so frightened! When Serena and Margaret came upstairs and told me what he had said and the set-down Mrs. Manley gave him…I was terrified he’d insist upon seeing me himself.”
“As if I would allow that to happen,” Juliana replied, running a critical eye on her sister’s countenance. The fever had broken a few days ago and though Thalia looked pale and wan, the worst of the spots were beginning to fade. She has lost some weight, as much from anxiety as her illness. Her lovely skin was still mottled and her eyes appeared sunken but there was improvement. It would still be a while yet before she left the sick room, but the disease seemed to have run its course.
Thalia’s eyes closed and tears leaked down her cheeks from beneath her long lashes. “This is all my fault. Poor Papa is so angry with me and though you haven’t said anything, I know that you are disappointed and ashamed of me. If only I hadn’t been so stupid….” She choked on a sob. “I don’t deserve to be happy and marry my dear, dear Caswell. I deserve to be married to a beast like Ormsby.”
“You most certainly do deserve the man you love and there is no way that I will allow you to be married to that wretched creature,” Juliana said fiercely. “You weren’t stupid and I am not ashamed of you! I can’t pretend that I wasn’t angry, and Papa, too, but we love you and forgave you almost as soon as we learned of the letters. He knows, as I do, that you were young and not wise and Ormsby took advantage of you.” Running a caressing finger down Thalia’s cheek, she said, “There is nothing that you could ever do that would make us stop loving you or ever be ashamed of you.”
Thalia’s eyes opened and the stark misery in their depths made Juliana’s heart ache. In a very small voice, Thalia asked, “Do you think I should send Caswell away and m-m-marry Ormsby? If I did t-t-that, you could go back to your sweet little house and Papa could be at ease again. I-i-it wouldn’t matter very much what happened to me. Marriage to Ormsby would be a f-f-fitting punishment for my folly.”
“Of all the nonsensical—!” Juliana leaned forward and took one of Thalia’s limp hands in hers. “Listen to me, sweetheart,” she said softly. “Yes, you were foolish, but if Ormsby had been a man of honor none of this would have happened. I swear to you that we will find a way out of this terrible coil!”
“I don’t see how,” Thalia said. “As long as Ormsby has my letters…” Her voice suspended by tears, Thalia turned her head away, unable to go on.
If Juliana could have grabbed a sword and run Ormsby through at that moment, she would have. She had never in her life felt such helpless fury or longing to inflict massive injury to another living creature as she did right then.
Struggling to maintain a calm exterior, Juliana rose to her feet. Brushing her lips across Thalia’s forehead, she said quietly, “It is the illness that has made you lose heart. When you sleep tonight, I want you only to think of Caswell. Leave Ormsby to me.”
The small nod Thalia gave her was not encouraging, but Juliana knew that there was nothing more she could do right now. Closing the door softly behind her, she stood for a moment in the hallway, her head leaning back against the door.
She’d been brave for Thalia and her father, but doubts of her ability, even with Asher’s help, of bringing them all to a happy ending were threatening to drown her. Her father and her sister were tearing themselves apart and she could not bear to watch them suffer. They, none of them, could go on this way much longer. Something, she thought desperately, must be done…and soon.
Chapter 10
Juliana was so sunk in gloom that she didn’t hear Asher’s first discreet tap on the library French doors. A moment or two later she became aware of the increasingly insistent sound of tapping coming from outside.
Recalled to her senses, she leaped to her feet from the green and gold damask sofa where she’d been sitting and rushed to the French doors. Opening them, she dragged him inside the dimly lit room.
She peeked out into the dark garden and, glancing back at Asher, asked anxiously, “Did anyone see you?”
“I doubt it. I was careful.”
“And your horse? It will not be discovered and questions raised?”
Asher sighed. “I do know what I’m doing, my pet. I took care that no one saw me and I left my horse safely tied some distance away and walked the rest of the way to the house.”
The only candle burning in the library was on the dark green marble mantel of the fireplace, not far from the French doors, and shadows abounded. Because of Mr. Kirkwood’s love of books, the library was the grandest room in the entire house. Floor to ceiling oak bookcases had been built along three walls of the room, the expanse of leather-bound books broken only by tall windows draped in pale green velvet on the opposite walls that faced outside: the French doors and fireplace dominated the remaining wall. A pair of large, fine woolen rugs intricately woven in shades of cream, gold, green and rose lay upon the polished parquet floors and handsome sofas and chairs flanked by various tables were scattered about the big room. Even now and full of shadows, it was a room that invited one to linger and browse through Mr. Kirkwood’s vast collection of books.
Asher wasn’t interested in Mr. Kirkwood’s books…. Mr. Kirkwood’s eldest daughter was an entirely different matter. As happened with more frequency than he was happy about, just the sight of her filled him with the most lascivious thoughts. Recalling those moments in the poacher’s hut when he’d kissed her, his blood thrummed urgently in his veins, heat flooded him and the desire to find out if reality compared to memory flared through him.
She looked uncommonly pretty tonight in her apricot gown, the color intensifying the depth of those whiskey-hued eyes and the sable richness of her hair. His gaze lingered on her tempting mouth before dropping to the modestly cut bodice, where just a tantalizing hint of the lush breasts concealed beneath the fabric could be seen. Annoyed, but not surprised, he felt a powerful stirring in his groin and knew that if he didn’t focus on the matter at hand, that he’d give in to the impulse to find out exactly how much passion lay behind her demure exterior.
Oblivious to the carnal gleam in Asher’s eyes, she bit her lip and asked again, “You’re positive no one saw you?”
“No one saw me, Juliana,” he said impatiently and, grasping her arm, led her over to the green and gold sofa. After gently pushing her down onto the sofa, he sat down beside her and said, “Now tell me what has you in such a fret.”
Her hands twisting in her lap, she said miserably, “Everything!” She glanced over at him, her features distressed. “Tonight was a disaster and it is only by the grace of God that you are not committed to meeting Ormsby on the dueling field at dawn. Ormsby was humiliated and enraged when he stormed out of here and I just know that the beastly man will take punitive action against my family for being the cause of his embarrassment.” When Asher would have spoken she held up a hand. “You don’t have to tell me that it was my fault—I know that! I should never have invited you and your grandmother to dine when Ormsby was going to be here, but I was at my wit’s end. When my father told me that Ormsby had inveigled, and believe me there is no other word for it, an invitation to dine here tonight, I could think of nothing but preventing him from cornering my father. If I hadn’t been so enraged at Ormsby’s effrontery and so determined to thwart him…if only I’d thought a moment or two more, I’d have known better than to have involved you or your grandmother.” She looked into the shadowy room. “I should have written to the squire and invited him and his wife and family—anyone else but you.”
“Well, I guess that puts me in my place.” The laughing spark in his eyes at odds with his mournful tone, he added, “And here I thought I was riding to rescue the fair maiden. How could I have been so mistaken?”
She glared at him. “Oh, stop it! I am in no mood to put up with your teasing. I’ve just spent a dreadful evening, terrified of what nearly happened happening and you make light of it.” Her gaze dropped and she muttered, “My poor father is so distraught that I live in terror a fit of apoplexy will carry him off, and he lives in fear of what Ormsby may do next, and Thalia…” Her voice broke and she wailed, “Asher, Thalia offered to sacrifice her own happiness and marry Ormsby!”
Taking one of her hands in his, he murmured, “You have had a bad time of it, haven’t you, sweetheart.”
Her fingers clutched his and she said bitterly, “Perhaps, but what happens to me is nothing compared to Thalia’s fate if I don’t find a way to save her from Ormsby.” She took a breath, fighting against the helpless despair that threatened to overtake her. Lifting her head, she met his gaze. “We have to get those letters! This situation cannot be allowed to continue.” A note of apology in her voice, she added, “I know that I have involved you in something that is none of your affair and I am truly sorry, but I simply couldn’t think of anything else to do. It is outrageous of me to make further demands on you, but something must done immediately. If it is not, my father is likely to kill himself with worry and shame that he could not protect Thalia from Ormsby’s designs, but my real fear is that Thalia will do something utterly foolish.”
“More foolish than writing the letters in the first place?” Asher asked unhelpfully.
She jerked her hand free and her eyes flashed with temper. “I just remembered what an infuriating little boy you were.”
He grinned, but conscious of the seriousness of the matter, he said slowly, “Ormsby is dining at my stepfather’s”—he glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantel and, noting the hour was after midnight, continued—“less than twenty hours from now. Ormsby will be occupied until the early morning hours and his absence provides an excellent opportunity for me to steal the letters—assuming they are where I think they are. If all goes well, you’ll have Thalia’s letters in your hands before another twenty-four hours passes.”
She took heart from his words, until she stopped to think about the danger he was facing. Until this moment, caught up in her own problems, she hadn’t really considered the enormity of what she was asking him to do and guilt rippled through her. He was taking a terrible risk for her, her family, by breaking into Ormsby’s house and stealing Thalia’s letters—if he found them. If he was discovered, not only would his reputation be ruined and his grandmother destroyed but it suddenly dawned on her that there existed the very real possibility that he could be transported to Australia or even hung as a common thief. The idea of Asher dead or transported, the idea of never seeing him again, of never staring into those mocking midnight blue eyes or hearing that drawling voice again infused her whole body with a kind of terror she had never experienced in her life.
Her face white, her eyes enor
mous pools of dusky gold, she whispered, “No. No. You must not.”
Asher’s left brow rose. “I must not what?”
In an agitated voice, she said, “You must not take the risk. If you were to be discovered…” She shook her head, the horrifying image of Asher’s body swinging from a gibbet flitting through her mind. “No. I never should have asked you to take such a risk.” Her gaze dropped from his and she stared blindly into space. “There has to be another way. I have to find another way. I see now that it was a foolish plan and I should never have involved you.”
Asher captured her hand, bringing her gaze back to him. A crooked smile on his lips, he said, “You can’t stop me.”
“But you must not!” she cried, her heart pulsing with fear. “I forbid it! Don’t you understand the peril you would be in if you were discovered robbing Ormsby’s house? What it would do to your grandmother if you were caught?”
“I won’t be caught.”
“But you don’t know that!”
He wasn’t going to argue with her. Whether she wanted him to or not, he was going to break into Ormsby’s tonight and, if luck was kind, find her sister’s letters and steal them from the marquis. It was going to happen and there was nothing she could say or do to change his mind. Seeing the anxiety on her face, a pang of remorse bit him. How could he explain to her that he was going to take great enjoyment from depriving Ormsby of those letters and that in many ways, his theft had nothing to do with her or her family? Hell, he was grateful for the chance to ruin Ormsby’s plans for Thalia.
Lifting her fingers to his mouth, he kissed them, smiling when she jerked them away from him and primly returned her hand to her lap. “You have to believe me when I say I won’t be caught,” he said easily, part of him wondering what she’d do if he reached over and kissed that sweet little mouth of hers. “Remember, Ormsby will be away from the house. With Ormsby away, the servants will have either gone to bed or will be busy with their own affairs. There will be no reason for one of them to wander anywhere near the library, much less into it. I already know where the safe is and I am certain that I can easily open it.” When she didn’t look convinced, he said, “Juliana, I will not be in Ormsby’s library for more than ten minutes…and if the letters are there, all your troubles will be over.”
Passion Becomes Her Page 15
