Jessica (17 page)

With a sinking heart, Jessica waited for the knock upon the door. She heard the tap-tapping of the old lady’s stick and then the pearl handle was struck once against the yellow door, a peremptory sound that grated on Jessica.

She opened the door and looked coldly at Lady Amelia. “Good day, my lady.”

“Miss Durleigh.”

I shall not ask you in, thought Jessica, staying where she was and waiting.

“Your manners are as appalling as your morals, Miss Durleigh, for you surely do not wish Parr to hear what we have to say.”

“Please come in, my lady.”

Lady Amelia looked around the kitchen, scraping her toe on the freshly-raddled floor and sniffing as she viewed the row of hoggins and the strings of onions hanging from the beams. “How charming,” she murmured, and Jessica took a long breath to quell her anger.

“And how may I help you, Lady Amelia?”

“In two ways.” The old lady’s shrewd little eyes were taking note of everything, as if she sought something in particular.

Suddenly Jessica guessed one of the reasons for the visit. “You are actually wondering if Sir Nicholas is here with me!” She laughed.

Lady Amelia’s wrinkled face went pale with anger and then two spots of color shone on her cheeks. “I cannot see your reason for such uproarious laughter.”

“Can’t you? Well, perhaps that does not surprise me. But let me assure you, madam, that no one by the name of Woodville is welcome here. You and your son are almost equally abhorrent, but perhaps you have the edge.”

“Quite the sharp-tongued miss, aren’t we? Well, I shall do my utmost to wipe the smile from your face, Miss Durleigh. I was informed my daughter-in-law had been seen on the Padbury road with Varangian this morning. I conclude that they intend marrying there, now that Henbury will have nothing to do with them. I will not have it, Miss Durleigh. She will not marry another man.”

“And how will you prevent it? She is a free agent.”

“Is she? Well, perhaps she is, Miss Durleigh, but Varangian is not. Oh, I don’t mean he has a wife secreted away somewhere. I mean that his life is not his to do with as he pleases. And I mean to see that he remembers the fact.”

“I don’t understand.”

The old lady smiled, drawing her gloved fingers along a shelf and glancing at the dark kid to see if there was dust. “Do you not? Well, that does not matter. What does matter is that you are continuing to give her shelter and I do not like that. She is Philip’s wife.”

“Widow.”

“She is still his, no matter what, and I will not suffer her to behave so irreverently. She must return to Woodville House.”

“I will not force her.”

“Then I will ruin Varangian.”

Jessica stared, her mind racing. “How?”

“It lies in my power, that should suffice.”

The note! Surely it could only be that. “I begin to see clearly, Lady Amelia, from where Philip got his more unpleasant side. So, you now intend carrying on where he left the reins dangling?”

“Varangian holds his estates illegally, Miss Durleigh, so it is only right that he should pay for the pleasure.”

“Is that how you see it? That Francis should pay blood money to you and your dead son? If you are so concerned with the right and wrong of Francis’ tenure of the estates, why then did you not send the note to Ireland, to seek out any relatives of the dead man, O’Connor?”

“You know that much do you?”

“I know enough to find myself thoroughly revolted by you and by what I now know of Philip.”

The old woman flushed angrily. “I do not care how you feel, Miss Durleigh, for I am intent upon destroying this affair of Rosamund’s. And believe me, I will use all the irons in the fire in order to do so. Philip’s name shall be protected and his memory cherished. I am determined, and I shall succeed, even if it means turning Varangian from his lands.”

“And what is my part to be in this grand plan?”

“Turn Rosamund out.”

“She will go to Francis.”

“No. For he, by then, will know that the price of Varangian is the casting off of Rosamund Woodville. She is a Woodville now, Miss Durleigh, and she will always remain so.”

“You are quite mad. Evil and mad. And if I tell Nicholas what you are doing?” She was prepared to try any path through this maze.

“Nicholas would not listen to you, and besides, no one appears to know where he is.”

“You do not seem particularly concerned about him.”

“He is his own master.” Lady Amelia turned, her hand on the door. “There is just one last thing, Miss Durleigh. I have yet another desire in all this. Francis Varangian will also lose his estates if you do not sell this property to me. I am prepared to offer you a fair price. But I must have you out of Henbury, for you are a reminder to the world that my son kept a mistress. That he was driven by his love for you into forgetting his wife and his obligations.”

“How quaint a picture you paint of Philip, Lady Amelia, I had no idea you were so accomplished an artist. So deftly do you use the brush it is impossible to see the flaws on the canvas.”

“There will be no flaws when I am finished, Miss Durleigh. No flaws at all. Philip will be as he was before he met you.”

“He will be as you wish to see him.”

“My terms are stated. You must leave Applegarth, and Rosamund must return to Woodville House. That way, Francis Varangian keeps his fortune. Otherwise, I will destroy him. You will not lose by complying, for with the price I give you, you may purchase a property in an area more suited to you.”

“I cannot sell. I must stay here for two years.”

“I can buy it from you, Miss Durleigh. Have no fear of that, for the will was specific. The Woodville family could purchase the property from you. I would have done so earlier, but Nicholas would not agree. I do not think he will prevent the sale this time, though, for he has recovered from his momentary lapse of sanity where you are concerned. But Philip shall rise unstained from all this, madam, and make no mistake about it. He knew that Rosamund loved Varangian, you know, that’s why he did it.”

“Did what?”

“Put the restrictions upon your tenure of Applegarth. He told me he wished to guard against his sudden death releasing Rosamund. He deliberately left you a small income and Applegarth, knowing that when you came back to Henbury, Francis Varangian would turn to you again. At least, he believed that would be the case, but it seems we were wrong there, for Varangian did not, after all, show an interest in you. But I am about to put all that right. It was Philip’s wish, and I will do all in my considerable power to honor his wish.”

Jessica felt sick. “Good day, Lady Amelia.”

“Good day, Miss Durleigh.”

When Rosamund returned from Padbury with Francis, Jessica could say nothing of what had happened. She saw how happy they both were
—
even Francis, who was still worried about the note
—
and she could not say the words that would destroy that happiness.

“Jess, we are to be married in two weeks’ time at Padbury.” Rosamund seized her hands warmly, her eyes shining with happiness.

“I am glad.”

Francis kissed Jessica’s cheek. “I cannot thank you enough for giving Rosamund your aid in all this.”

Tears filled her eyes at these words. What should she do? How could she say what Lady Amelia had said? She stood there in miserable indecision, when a pony and trap rattled to the door and Tamsin got down. She was with Harry Parr and looked excited.

“Miss Jess, Sir Nicholas is found!”

“Oh.”

“Yes. He were locked away by Jamie Pike, so they say. It be a real mystery, for I thought Jamie got clean away, but it do seem as he was in Henbury all the time.”

“And is Sir Nicholas well?”

“Reckon so. He looked mortal tired and hungry when I saw him, though.”

“Saw him?”

“Aye. I were visiting with Harry here.”

“Good evening, Mr. Parr.”

“Good evening, Miss Durleigh.”

“And are you fully recovered now?”

“Yes. And that’s why I’ve brought Tamsin out here afore the wagonette left, to say my thanks to you for helping me that night.”

“I did not do much.”

“Still, I thought I’d say my piece.”

“Thank you. Will you not take some refreshment, for I am sure Tamsin would be pleased to drink a glass of wine with you.”

“Elderberry?” he asked, his eyes brightening.

Tamsin frowned. “Mind your manners, Harry Parr, for this be Miss Durleigh’s house and she don’t serve no common elderberry. Madeira be what you’m offered.”

“Thank you kindly then. I’d like some.”

Jessica turned, for Francis was taking his leave. The moment had passed and she had said nothing. And now there were too many people. Perhaps, if she were to say nothing, if she was to wait and hope, then Lady Amelia would change her mind. But it was a faint hope.

She was so distracted she had no appetite, and Tamsin bundled her to bed early, fearing her to be sickening from some malady. A cup of hot caudle was placed resolutely by the bedside.

“And if I comes up here in five minutes and you’ve not drunk that, then I shall have something to say, Miss Jess!”

“Yes, Tamsin.” Jessica lay quietly in bed, looking with distaste at the steaming cup. She sat up and forced herself to drink it, although her stomach was churning and she felt horribly cold and unwell.

How could she do what Lady Amelia wished? How could she destroy the happiness of two people who were so much in love? She knew, intuitively, that Francis would not choose Rosamund, for to do that would be to bring ignominy upon his dead father’s name. And it would bring Rosamund into a life of destitution and infamy, for the scandal Lady Amelia would set in motion would spread the length and breadth of England. Francis would never do that to the woman he loved; he would cast her off first. And Lady Amelia would have her way.

“Ah, you’ve drunk it all down. There now, you have a good rest and happen you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Yes, Tamsin. Tamsin?”

“Yes, Miss Jess?”

“Did you speak to Sir Nicholas?”

“I should say so. I’d a lot to say and all!”

Jessica closed her eyes faintly. “What did you say?”

“Enough. But it were like water off a duck’s back. He merely bowed and thanked me for my concern. That’s all he said. I could have been felled with a feather, so I could.”

“Was he all right?”

“Ah, Jamie locked him in the hurdle hut over by the lake. He, I mean, Sir Nicholas, didn’t say why, or anything like that. Just that it were Jamie.”

When the door closed again Jessica looked at the mulberry hangings of the bed. Why had Jamie gone to see Nicholas? Why had he left the safety of Ladywood to risk being seen in the lanes around Henbury?

Her head was aching; there had been so many unpleasantnesses in this most hateful of days. And this was all because Lady Amelia wished the world to remember Philip Woodville with kindness. His name must be shielded from all calumny.

If only the truth could be spread as certainly. Jessica would have loved to have struck back at the wicked, old woman. But how? That was the question. If the world could only know how Philip had blackmailed poor Francis. But Francis would not admit to the world that he had paid such sums to Philip.

Her eyes followed the golden tassels and rested on the carved bed. If she could make Lady Amelia believe that Francis would take Philip with him into perdition, that would surely make her change her mind. But Francis would not give her a letter as proof to use as a lever, she knew that. She sat up then. Of course! Mr. Slade’s little book, with its carefully written pages. It stated there quite clearly that Philip had paid for the necklace with money from Francis. What if she could persuade Lady Amelia that Francis intended making it known that Philip stole the money? What price Philip’s good name then?

Jessica threw back the coverlets and stood. Her eyes were shining now. There was a good chance it might work. Lady Amelia would surely pause to consider if such a threat were issued. A counterthreat. Tit for tat. The fact that Francis had no such intention was not important
—
it was that Lady Amelia would believe it to be true.

She glanced at the window. The evening was drawing in slightly, but there was still sunlight. She would go to Woodville House tonight and beard the lion in its den.

“Tamsin?”

The door at the foot of the stairs opened and Tamsin hurried up. “What be wrong, Miss Jess?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all. Now, I am going to Woodville House and I wish to look my finest. My hair must be perfect, and my clothes exactly right.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I dare not wait until morning.” Jessica was thinking that the old lady might choose any moment to fire her first salvo at Francis.

“But you’m not well, lovey. You should bide in bed tonight. And why go there?”

“There is something I must do. Now, will you help me dress, or must I do everything myself?”

“I’ll help you, Miss Jess, don’t fret. What shall you wear?”

“My finest London toggery. I want to make an impression on the old dragon.”

“Oh, then ‘tis Lady Amelia you’re out to see?”

“Yes. Now, I think my jade pelisse, and the flounced, oyster lawn. No, the brown spencer and the oyster lawn. Yes, that would do very well. And the straw bonnet with the orchids. Brown gloves and slippers, and my dark-brown reticule.”

“Smart togs, right enough. But why have you to impress the old one?”

“I’ll not answer that, Tamsin.”

“Well, ‘tis your business, I reckon.” Tamsin picked up the hairbrush and took off Jessica’s mobcap. The chestnut hair tumbled down in unruly curls that the brush set briskly about.

In a short while Jessica was at last buttoning the tight, high-waisted spencer, and surveying her reflection in the mirror. Yes, she would do well enough, she decided. She straightened the bonnet and fluffed out the creamy ribbons until they looked just right. The velvet orchids bobbed slightly below the brim of the bonnet, resting against her hair in a cluster of oyster and bronze petals. The old she-cat would not have seen such London finery for many a day.