Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) (34 page)

"Not unless you walk, and I cannot allow you to do that." His eyes moved over her face. "Are you so unhappy here at Mannington?"

"No, I love it here. I would not mind if I never had to—" Her voice trailed off. She had almost said she would not mind if she never left Mannington. The truth of her feelings hit her. She did not want to go back to America! She could not stand the thought of never seeing Julian. How she wished she could just remain here at least for a time. This was where she belonged, with her husband and her child. How could she leave the dowager, who had been so kind to her? She would miss the little gardener, Muldoon, who, true to his word, brought fresh peaches to her every day.

"What were you saying?" Julian asked.

"It is of no importance," she replied, standing up and moving closer to the fire.

Julian's eyes rested on the swell of her stomach, and he felt saddened. It would not be long until the child was delivered. He had given his word that she could return to America after the birth. He wondered how he could ever let her go when the time came. Angry with himself for these tender feelings he had for Lavender, he stood up and moved across the room. He must keep reminding himself that this woman was responsible for his brother's death.

Lavender watched Julian walk out the door, somehow feeling she had made him angry again. She searched her mind, trying to recall anything she had said that he could take offense to. Sighing heavily, she picked up her paper and quill, thinking she would finish her letter to Aunt Amelia.

Lavender was in the library, glancing through a very old volume that stood on a mahogany stand. The pages were yellowed with age, so she carefully turned them. It was a book about Mannington, which traced Julian's lineage from the early fourteenth century. She found drawings of the castle, and a layout for the original gardens at the time of the Norman Conquest.

"So, here you are," Julian said, coming up beside her and glancing over her shoulder. "Have you developed an interest in my family background?"

She glanced into his handsome face, noting how handsome he looked in his buff riding britches and boots. "This book is fascinating. Do you mind if I look through it?"

"You are free to look through any book in this library. You will find all the rooms are open to you. I want you to feel completely at home here."

She noticed him glance down at her rounded stomach, then back to her face. "I want to thank you for my Christmas gift," he said, raising his arm and showing Lavender that he was wearing the gold shirt studs she had given him.

She felt embarrassed, knowing he had many finer ones in his own collection. Remembering the beautiful blue velvet cloak lined with ermine that he had given her for Christmas, she felt her gift pale to insignificance. "They are of no great consequence. I just wanted to give you something."

"I can assure you they are very much to my liking." He watched her face, sensing that her spirit was being crushed. He remembered her with her golden hair flying around her and her blue eyes spitting fire. Now she was almost humbled and apologetic, making him wonder if he were the culprit who was responsible for her lack of spirit. "How would you like a tour of the picture gallery? There is where you will see the real history of Mannington unfold."

"Oh, could we? I have heard so much about the gallery and have wanted very much to see it."

He smiled, offering her his arm. "It would be my pleasure to act as your guide."

Julian escorted Lavender up two flights of stairs and past numerous rooms, until he stopped before heavy oak double doors. With a smile, he opened the doors and allowed Lavender to pass through ahead of him. Her feet sank into a thick, royal blue rug runner. As Julian moved about lighting candles, she stared at the paintings that covered both sides of the long gallery.

"This is another Julian Mannington, better known in his day, as the Black Knight," Julian said, leading Lavender to one of the oldest paintings in the gallery.

Lavender stared at the knight in armor, thinking how comforting it must be to know where one had come from. Her child would have this same firm background to help him feel secure. "I can see a resemblance," she said, staring into the dark eyes of the Black Knight, and then at Julian's dark eyes.

"There have been twelve Julians in my family, dating from the time records have been kept—I being the twelfth, of course."

As they moved down the line of portraits, Lavender's mind was spinning at the sight of gentlemen in different time periods, and ladies bedecked in jewels, satins, and velvets. She was becoming more and more aware that she was an intruder here and did not belong. To her it seemed that many of the eyes from the portraits stared at her accusingly, as if denying her right to be among their number. She had the strongest urge to run away, but she bravely smothered that urge and moved on down the corridor.

Julian was patient with her, and explained about many of the family members. As they moved to a portrait of Julian's grandfather, she sucked in her breath. How like Julian he looked, and she could well see why the dowager had loved her husband.

As she studied the portrait of Julian's mother, she became aware that Julian had fallen silent and there was a heaviness in the air. Something was wrong, and she could feel it in the very depth of her being. Almost reluctantly, she glanced at the portrait he was standing before. She did not need to be told that the two young boys dressed in black velvet were Julian and his brother, William. She looked up at her husband and saw the tightening of his jaw.

"This is you and your brother," she said, glancing into his eyes. "You were both very young when you sat for this portrait." She could not bring herself to look closely at the young boy that stood beside Julian. It was as if her breathing had suddenly been cut off, and she took a step backward, looking toward the door.

Julian grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. "Look well upon my brother's face, Lavender. Know that you are responsible that he is not here now. You are alive and breathing, but he is cold in his crypt."

She shook her head, while trying to pry his hand loose. "No, Julian, do not do this to me. Please, I want to go to my bedchamber."

He stared at Lavender, watching a tear trail down her cheek. "God, what am I doing?" he asked in an agonized voice. Flinging her arm away, he turned toward the door, but did not leave. "I am sorry, Lavender, but you can see that my brother's death will always stand between us."

She rubbed her wrist to restore the circulation. "I have known that for some months, Julian. But I can still say to you that I am not responsible for his death."

He swung around, glowering at her. "I will be leaving for London in the morning, and I do not intend to return until after the baby is born. At that time, you will be free to leave."

She wondered if heartbreak was visible? Could Julian see that he was killing her heart? "I suppose you cannot bear to stay in the same house with me."

He reached out to touch her, but let his hand fall limply at his side. "It is not that so much, Lavender, as the fact that the doctor has informed me today that I must not come to your bed until after the baby is born. If I stay, I fear I will not be able to keep away from you."

She turned away and rushed down the gallery toward the door. Sobs were building up inside her and she wanted to make it to her room before she cried. She could not understand this vacillating between infatuation and hatred that Julian apparently felt for her? She would be glad when he had left for London, she told herself.

Julian stood as if turned to stone, wanting to rush after Lavender and hating himself for that weakness.

22

March winds howled through the Mannington countryside bringing with it the icy sting of winter. When April finally arrived, the weather had not improved, and winter still retained a firm grip on the land. Lavender lay in her bed listening to the gusts of wind that made a wailing noise as it rattled her bedroom windows. She was lonely in the very depths of her heart. Long days changed into even longer nights, while she waited impatiently for her baby to be born.

After that horrid day in the gallery when Julian had again accused her of being instrumental in his brother's death, he had left for London, and she had neither seen nor heard from him since. He had been cold and distant that morning as he had told her good-bye. It appeared to Lavender that day as if Julian could not bear the sight of her. She was almost glad he had gone because she did not have to face his accusing eyes.

Lavender's senses became alert as she heard a different sound at her window. It was not the wind that was hitting against the glass pane, it sounded more like someone was throwing pebbles against it from the ground below.

She slipped out of bed, hurried across the room, and threw wide the window. At first she did not see the two men who stood in the shadows of the house, but when her eyes became accustomed to the moonlight, she could clearly make them out. Her hand flew to her throat. Unless her eyes were deceiving her, it was Nicodemus and Brainard Thruston!

Before Lavender could shout down to them, a deep voice spoke up from her across the room. "What in the hell are you doing with the window open? Do you want to catch your death?" Lavender spun around to find Julian standing in the doorway with a candle in his hand and a look of disapproval on his face.

She was besieged with so many different emotions that she stood there with a blank look on her face. Love seemed to burst from her heart and she wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she could not. She had to send him away. Why did he have to come home now? "Julian, where did you come from?" she managed to ask.

"Close that damned window, and I will tell you," he growled. Lavender stood her ground as he approached the window, fearing he would see Nicodemus and Brainard. He gave her a condescending glance and reached over her head to slam the window shut. "Have you no thought for the baby?" he demanded in an irritated voice.

She felt the chill of the night and began trembling with cold. Julian scooped her up in his arms and laid her on the bed, where he pulled the covers over her. Turning away, he moved to the fireplace and piled several logs on the glowing embers.

Lavender watched him, wondering why he had come home. She thought of Nicodemus and Brainard, and hoped they would understand why she could not come to them. Julian appeared at her side and eased himself down on the bed. His eyes swept across her face and down to the bulge of her stomach. "To answer your question as best I am able, I missed you, Lavender. I tried to stay away, but I couldn't. I had important business to attend to in London, but I could only think of you. You have thoroughly bewitched me."

She was happy to hear his confession, yet she still remembered how cold and distant he had been to her the day he had left. She reminded herself he had been away for three long months without a thought of her or the baby. "I am sure it is a condition you will recover from," she said, raising her chin. "I do not believe it is fatal."

He surprised her with a smile that touched the corner of his lips and danced in his eyes. "Ouch, pull in your claws, little she-cat. I have become accustomed to groveling at your feet. Is that what you want of me now?"

She tossed her golden hair in a show of defiance. "I have never asked anything of you, nor will I now."

He arched an eyebrow. "I was told by the doctor not to upset you, so I will just let that pass."

When he reached out his hand to touch her face, she flinched away. She had to make him leave before Nicodemus took it in his head to climb up to her room and find out why she had not come into the garden. "1 am weary, Julian, and I wish you would just go, I am sure the doctor told you that I need my sleep."

Somehow he had hoped for more from her. It seemed she had not missed him at all. He had been truthful with her when he told her he had been unable to think about anything but her. He looked at her through lowered lashes. "Is it your wish that I leave you alone?"

Lavender wanted to beg him to hold her in his arms. She tried not to think about the lonely nights she had ached for the sight of his face, or how she had longed for the sound of his voice. But she had to send him away for fear he would discover that Nicodemus and Brainard were below in the garden. She had to go to the garden as soon as possible. It took all her willpower to turn her back to him. "I am tired, Julian. Please go away. We can talk in the morning."

Lavender squeezed her eyes tightly together trying not to cry. She heard him stand up, and watched as the room fell into darkness when he blew out the candle. "Good night, Lavender. As you said, we will talk in the morning."

Lavender lay still long after she heard the door close and the sound of Julian's footsteps fade down the hallway. Tears gathered in her eyes as she resisted the urge to run after him. She waited for what seemed like hours, but in reality was but a few moments. Getting out of bed, she slipped on her boots and pulled her fur-lined cape about her shoulders. She had to go into the garden to find Nicodemus.

As Lavender cautiously entered the garden, she noticed that the moon hung in the sky like a big bright ball, lending its golden magic to the snow-covered landscape. She took in a deep breath of the frosty air, hoping it would quiet her thundering heart. Her eyes ran over the garden, but she saw no sign of Nicodemus or Brainard. What if they had gone? Surely it was too cold for them to remain in the garden all night.

She moved down the brick walkway, knowing she dare not call out Nicodemus's name for fear someone else would overhear. Why had Julian come home tonight of all nights? she wondered frantically. If she had not felt compelled to be cold to him, perhaps she would now be in his arms.

She glanced toward the conservatory, thinking she had seen a flicker of light somewhere inside the glass structure. It could have been Nicodemus, or maybe Muldoon was working late in the garden. Her footsteps carried her in that direction.

Lavender's hand closed around the cold doorknob, and she pushed the door open. Feeling a rush of warm air from the conservatory hit her in the face, she called out, "Muldoon, are you here?" There was no answer, so she called again. Still there was no reply.

The moonlight filtered through the glass top of the conservatory, lending its light so she could find her way. She had just decided that she must have been mistaken about seeing a light when a hand clamped over her mouth.

"Don't scream, Lavender. It's me, Brainard."

She pushed his hand away from her mouth and turned to him. "What are you doing here? Don't you know it is dangerous to come here?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "What's a little danger, compared to rescuing you from the Englishman?"

Lavender was not happy about seeing Brainard. She still had not forgiven him for what he had done to Julian, but she did so want to see Nicodemus. Looking past Brainard, she searched for her old friend. "Where is Nicodemus?"

"He left thinking you would not come tonight. We saw the Englishman's coach arrive so he decided to try and reach you another time, but I refused to give up the vigil. I know you well enough to realize you would find a way to get out of the house."

"Where have you and Nicodemus been staying?" she wanted to know.

"We have been hiding out at a deserted barn on the other side of the village."

"How did you know which window was mine?"

"I bribed one of the gardeners. He was a most informative young lad." It seemed to Lavender that Brainard's eyes were cold. "I found out many things about you, Lavender." He reached out his hand and ran it over the expensive fur on her cape. "Can you be bought, Lavender? Has the Englishman won you away from your own country?"

She was beginning to feel uneasy, and she immediately took offense at his accusations. "No one bought me, Brainard. How dare you even suggest such a thing. I am still angry for what you did to Julian in Williamsburg."

"I wasn't too happy when I found out you had helped the Englishman escape, either. But you partly redeemed yourself when you wrote your aunt that Forbes had become a turncoat. You might like to know he was hanged."

Lavender shivered. "Poor Sarah. It must have been hard on her."

"She left soon after. But let's talk about you. Have you turned traitor, too?"

Lavender was too angry to answer. "1 understand why Nicodemus would come after me, but I do not know what you are doing here."

"Did you think I would not come, Lavender? Nicodemus and 1 caught a ship soon after Westfield's letter reached your aunt, informing her that you had married him and would be sailing to England with him. Did you really think I would allow him to spirit you away without lifting a hand to help you?"

"You could have saved yourself the trouble, Brainard. For you see, I will be returning to Williamsburg as soon ... as my baby is born."

His face became distorted with fury when he glanced down at her round belly. "How dare Westfield touch you," he ground out in a whisper. "I will kill him for this!"

"No, you will not, Brainard. What I do is none of your affair. You and I have been friends for a very long time. I don't want to see it end this way."

He stared at her in surprise. "I was sure that we were more than friends, Lavender. I still remember the time in your aunt's garden when you allowed me to kiss you. I thought it was understood that when this war was over, you would consent to marry me."

"If I gave you that impression, I am sorry, Brainard," she said. "As you know, I am already married."

He reached out and took her hand. "I am sorry, too, Lavender." There was genuine sadness in his eyes. "I thought you were in trouble, so I came to help you. You belonged to my alliance, and we always take care of our own."

All the anger went out of her. This was the Brainard she knew. She felt his arms go around her, and she was comforted. How good it felt to have a friend who would cross an ocean because he thought she needed help. "I am not in trouble, Brainard. As I told you, I will be going home as soon as this baby is born."

Suddenly his arms tightened and she felt his lips on her neck. "I will not let that Englishman have you," he said in an angry voice. "You are mine!"

When she tried to struggle, his arms tightened even more. "You are hurting me, Brainard," she cried, trying to pry his hands loose. "Please let me go," she pleaded.

"No, I will not release you. I am taking you back to America with me."

Lavender could see his eyes, and felt a shiver run down her spine because they were angry and possessive. "I will not go with you, Brainard. But if you don't leave soon, someone will find you here and it will go hard with you."

He acted as if he had not heard her. "It will be all right, Lavender. When I get you away from this place, you will forget this man and be your old self. You will depend on me again, and I will never let anything hurt you."

She shook her head, feeling fear in the pit of her stomach. Brainard was not acting lucid. She wished she had not come into the garden at all. "I cannot go away with you, Brainard. I have given my word that I will stay here until the child is born."

"You lie!" he shouted, shaking her until she thought her head would snap off. She pushed against his hands, and he finally released her. That was when Lavender heard Nicodemus's beloved voice.

"Damn you, Brainard, I will kill you for this," he yelled out angrily, charging Brainard with a force that took them both to the ground.

Lavender could hear the fierce struggle that was going on within the conservatory. As the moon came out from behind a cloud, she could seem them, and it was apparent that Nicodemus was in trouble. Brainard had straddled him and had a knife poised, ready to plunge it into his heart! In spite of the danger to herself, Lavender threw herself against Brainard, giving Nicodemus time enough to hurl Brainard off and roll out of the way.

As Brainard came to his feet, Lavender ran to him placing a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Try to remember that the three of us are friends, Brainard. If we fight among ourselves, then you will have come here for nothing."

His eyes softened and he reached for Lavender's hand. "It's us against the English," he whispered. In a quick move that startled Lavender, Brainard grabbed the rapier that he had worn about his waist and waved it in the air. "I am taking you away from here tonight. If you don't come willingly, I'll take you by force."

"Let her go and we will discuss this," Nicodemus urged, knowing that Brainard was not thinking rationally. Nicodemus feared in Brainard's frenzied state of mind he might hurt Lavender. "There is no reason to frighten Lavender," Nicodemus reasoned, taking a step closer. But when he saw Brainard's arms tighten around Lavender, he halted. Out of the corner of his eyes, Nicodemus saw Julian Westfield move silently up behind Brainard, so he knew he had to keep Brainard distracted until the duke could intervene.

"We could always take Lavender back to Williamsburg with us, Brainard. Once we get her out of England we will all be safe," Nicodemus said. "Give her over to me so we can decide what to do."