Jessica (18 page)

Downstairs, Rosamund looked at her in amazement. “You are going out?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why Tamsin is getting the dogcart ready?”

“Yes.”

“But where are you going?”

“To visit your mother-in-law.” Jessica undid the parcel containing Mr. Slade’s book. Only one page did she need. She flicked through the book until she found what she wanted, and she ripped out the page carefully. “I’m sorry, Mr. Slade, but this matter is more important than your little book’s pristine state.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Ah, Tamsin has brought Jinks around to the front.” Jessica folded the piece of paper and put it in her reticule.

She took the reins from Tamsin who looked disapproving. “This ain’t right, Miss Jess, driving out at this hour, and to such a place, and all.”

“I will not be long, Tamsin.” Jessica slapped the reins and Jinks clattered busily out of Applegarth and onto the Henbury road. Her heart was thundering nervously, and she found her hands were soon damp in the kid gloves. But she was determined this ruse would work, for if it did not.... She slapped the reins again and brought Jinks up to a merry pace.

* * *

A horseman emerged from the woods by Applegarth. Rosamund saw him from the kitchen window. “Oh, dear, Nicholas is coming.”

“And not before time, neither!” Tamsin wiped her hands on her apron and opened the door. “Good evening, Sir Nicholas.”

He dismounted. “Good evening, Miss Davey. Is Miss Durleigh in?”

“No, you’ve missed her by not more than half an hour.”

He slapped his gloves against his thigh. “And when will she return, for I must see her.”

“To put things right?” demanded Tamsin determinedly.

He smiled. “Yes. I came as soon as I had washed and eaten, for I could not have come as I was, could I?”

“Reckon not. But happen I don’t know if she wants to see you now, she’m proper bad about it all.”

“With good reason, I fear.” He looked beyond the countrywoman to where Rosamund sat in the kitchen. “Rosamund?”

She stood. “Nicholas.”

He pushed his gloves into his hat and stepped inside, holding out his hand. “I believe congratulations are in order.”

Hesitantly, she took the proffered hand. “I did not think you would wish to congratulate us, Nicholas.”

“Bygones are bygones, Rosamund. You have chosen Francis, and he seems of a like lunacy concerning you, so I am happy enough to wish you well.”

She smiled then. “Thank you.” She still held his hand. “But Lady Amelia...”

“My mother will bow to the inevitable. Even she will do that.”

“Do you think so? She made certain that we cannot marry in Henbury.”

His eyes sharpened. “She did what?”

“She ‘persuaded’ the vicar of St. Mary’s not to perform any wedding ceremony for us.”

“The devil she did. Then I’ll ‘unpersuade’ him for you. She has no right to do that, especially not over my repulsive brother. Leave my mother to me, for she knows who is master of Woodville House.”

“Perhaps it would be best to leave matters as they are, for we are now to marry at Padbury.”

“Foreign land? My sister-in-law will marry in Henbury, or I’ll know the reason why. Tell me, how is Jessica? Do you think I’ve muffed my chances there?”

“I don’t know, Nicholas, and that is the truth. She was very unhappy I know. But now she conceals her thoughts and does not confide in either Tamsin or myself. She is either over you completely, or so in love with you still that it hurts to mention your name. I am not sure which.”

“Then I must pray for the latter possibility, must I not?”

“But why did you do it to her? Why?”

“Because, damn it, I was jealous! I thought her to have a fancy for Jamie Pike. Jealousy curls you inside, Rosamund, as you of all people must know.”

She smiled. “Oh, I know. But at least I had cause, for Francis did indeed love her at one time, enough to have asked her to marry him. But you had no such cause to be jealous.”

“I see that now, but at the time I was inclined to be unreasonable. Where is she now?”

“She has driven to Woodville House, to see Lady Amelia.”

He looked surprised. “To see my mother? What about?”

“I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell us. But she got from her bed and dressed like ten, new-minted pennies.”

He pulled on his gloves and hat. “I think perhaps my presence over there might be useful, don’t you?”

“I think so, too.”

“Miss Durleigh.” The butler’s voice was round in the quiet room.

Lady Amelia sat by the fire, her black crepe gown catching the soft glow. Her eyes shone. “Ah, Miss Durleigh, so you have come with a decision?”

“No.” Jessica watched as the butler closed the heavy door.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I think, madam, that we must bargain.”

“I think not, missy. I think not.”

“Then you must take the consequences, my lady. And I think you will find they will make null and void all your careful groundwork.”

The claw-like hands moved on the pearl handle, “I don’t take your meaning, Miss Durleigh.”

“Philip will be much maligned.”

“And what could you do, missy? How could you touch him? Eh?”

“It is not I who will do it, my lady, it is Francis Varangian. You see, he will fight. And as you have chosen to take off the gloves for this bout, then he will do the same.”

“Indeed?” The old lady leaned forward to tug at a bell pull. “Ah, Tanner, some black coffee, if you please. And you, Miss Durleigh?”

“No, thank you.” I will not take your hospitality, you she-cat, thought Jessica.

“For one then, Tanner.”

The butler bowed and closed the doors once more. Lady Amelia looked at Jessica. “And what, pray, does Varangian have in mind?”

“Proof that Philip took money from him.”

The old woman smiled. “You mean me to believe that Varangian would voluntarily admit to having been blackmailed.”

“I see you do not shrink to name your crime, my lady. But no, I do not speak of blackmail. I said ‘took’ as in steal, thieve, misappropriate, and similar words.”

The smile faded. “Philip stole nothing of Varangian’s.”

“That is not what Francis will say. The word he will use will be clear to all who choose to listen. He will claim Philip stole a large sum of money with which to purchase a diamond necklace. And the proof of this lies with the jeweler who was commissioned to make the necklace.”

The room was very quiet, Jessica could hear the slow ticking of the glass-cased clock on the mantelpiece.

“But it is not true.”

“Who will believe that, when the world and his wife knew how Philip was? You cannot disguise him, Lady Amelia. He made himself clear to all and sundry. With two noticeable exceptions
—
and we now look at each other across this fire.”

“You loved him, Miss Durleigh?”

“Why else would I have done what I did? I left considerably more luxury in a marriage with Francis than I ever hoped to enjoy by living with Philip. My motives, therefore, could not be said to be mercenary. I went with him because I loved him, yes.”

“And now you are determined there shall be more odium heaped upon his name?”

“I am determined to stop you, my lady. And if I can do so, I will. But Francis does not need my persuasion in this. He is determined to fight back, as you will find to your cost if you persist.”

“Is this for Rosamund then?”

“He loves her and she has always loved him. There is no sin in that, for even Philip himself never pretended to have any affection for her. That is something else the world and his wife knows.”

“The world and his wife would appear to have almost a vested interest in the outcome of this struggle, Miss Durleigh,” remarked Lady Amelia dryly. “You know, I had hardly considered that you must have loved him. How strange it should not have occurred to me. However, I digress. The matter in hand is this diamond necklace that appears to be somewhat pertinent now. You have not come here merely to inform me of Varangian’s threat, have you, Miss Durleigh? Pray explain further, if you please.”

“I have in mind what, as children, we called ‘swaps’
.
”

“Swaps?” The aristocratic lips curled a little.

Unflustered, Jessica continued. “Yes, the proof concerning the necklace
—
which is the page from the jeweler’s book
—
for the note you have in your possession.”

“Ah.” Lady Amelia stood, leaning on her stick. “Why are you intent upon this, Miss Durleigh? What reason could you have for wishing to interfere?”

“You involved me, and you chose to pressure me into leaving Henbury.”

“On my own head be it?”

“Yes.”

“And if I withdraw my wish concerning your tenure at Applegarth? If I leave you entirely alone? What then?”

Jessica shook her head. “No. I would still be here as I now am, offering a swap that would end the matter once and for all. I am sure, Lady Amelia, that you do not really wish to have Rosamund here when she would despise you. She could, if she wished, make Philip’s name even more reviled than it is. She has only to constantly speak of him to insure that. But if she marries Francis, then she would not even think of Philip. Your own name, too, would be in her hands. Surely, you see that? Rosamund loves Francis far too much to accept your will meekly.”

“I see your influence upon her there, Miss Durleigh, for she was a submissive, mild, genteel young lady before you returned.”

Jessica smiled. “My influence still has her a pure, young woman who has done nothing blameworthy. Had she her own way, she would by now be living sinfully at Varangian Hall. Now, about my offer.”

“I do not believe Varangian will use the matter of the necklace.”

Standing, Jessica shook her skirts and shrugged. “The choice is yours, and the consequences will lie upon you and you alone. Good evening, Lady Amelia.” She began to walk to the door.

“Miss Durleigh. Please. Sit down.” The old lady looked at her, turning her head as the door opened and the butler brought in the silver tray with a coffee pot and crockery. When he had gone she sat down. “Will you pour for me, please, for my hands are no longer steady.”

Jessica lifted the elegant coffee pot and poured the thick dark liquid into a fine porcelain cup.

“Miss Durleigh, I am forced to consider your offer. But I must know if the paper in your possession is the only copy.”

“Yes, it is. Mr. Slade especially asked for the book’s return, as it is his only record.”

“How dishonest of Varangian to remove a page from such a book. Or is it Varangian? I rather suspect, Miss Durleigh, that young Francis has had nothing to do with this. That it is you who have perpetrated the matter. I can well imagine you tearing a page from the book, but not Varangian.”

“I am the culprit. But Francis would still charge Philip with theft.”

“Perhaps he would. I believe he would not. But, it is a risk which I am not prepared to take if you are involved, as obviously you are
—
heart and soul. You would, no doubt, eventually influence him to do your will, and Rosamund would support you with some alacrity.”

The old lady sipped the coffee, her bright eyes looking at Jessica in the firelight. “I will agree, Miss Durleigh. Let Rosamund have Varangian, and let him have his estates. I am not willing to embark upon a fight with you and with my son, and with Rosamund and with Varangian. The odds have become a little too steep for me.”

Relief swept through Jessica and she tried desperately to hide it. “It is surely the best way all round.”

“No doubt, you think so. But you knew Philip
—
can you not see why I have tried to fight for him like this?” The proud, old woman was suddenly a mother speaking of a much-loved son. Her eyes were soft and Jessica thought she could see tears glistening as she looked up at his portrait.

“I loved him very much, my lady. I gave up everything for him, and he made me very happy, as I believe I made him happy, too. My return to Somerset has seen the shattering of my illusions, and it has been a painful experience, I do assure you. To find that the man you loved so inordinately was, in every way, despised and hated by all who knew him, and to find the crimes of which he was responsible, and the vices in which he indulged. Rosamund has told me much that I will not speak of to anyone, not even to you. But I saw nothing of his dark side. To me he was always gentle, loving, and kind.”

A tear wended its way down the wrinkled cheek. “He was always thus, Miss Durleigh. An unpredictable mixture
—
sometimes effervescent and sparkling, sometimes dour and black. I saw it in him as a child; he was an enigma. He could have been great, but the darkness came over him too often. Perhaps it was as well that he died when he did, for surely a terrible nemesis would have been waiting. He could not have gone on. I have never spoken like this of him to anyone before.”

“But I understand how you feel. Perhaps I am the only other person who understands so well.”

Lady Amelia nodded. “This little key opens the drawer in that writing cabinet, Miss Durleigh. Inside you will find a casket. Please bring it to me.”

Jessica obeyed, and placed the casket in the old woman’s hands. From a chain around her neck Lady Amelia drew another key with which she opened the casket. Inside lay a single, folded sheet of paper. “This is what you wish to have, Miss Durleigh
—
the cause of all the trouble.”

Opening her reticule, Jessica took out the page from Mr. Slade’s book.

Lady Amelia glanced over it, nodding, “Yes, it was a well-thought plan, Miss Durleigh, but one which I think would not have withstood a court of law.”

“Perhaps not, but the mud would cling a little, would it not?”

“And you know all too well how mud lingers, do you not? Will you do something for me now, Miss Durleigh? Will you help me to burn both of these documents? Then we shall know that all is indeed accomplished.”

Together they dropped the papers onto the fire and Jessica pushed them into the glowing heart with a poker. They curled and blackened, wisps drawn up the chimney by the draft and heat.