Lord Satan (19 page)

“Devil take Miss Hogwood! Sorry, Miss Bishop, but I won’t
modify my actions to suit her.”

“However, you should not be so careless of Miss Bishop’s
reputation,” Lord Neil pointed out.

“You’re right,” Lord Cauldreigh admitted. “Shall we go
back?” He held out an arm to Libbetty.

“You go ahead. I want a word with Miss Bishop,” said Lord
Neil. The marquess walked away, not questioning the command.

Lord Neil turned his attention to her. As he’d halfway
expected, his high-handed actions found no favor with her. Her mobile mouth
drew tight, and she clenched her fists. “What a plumper you told him. You
have no real concern for my reputation, do you? You once told me it would ruin
me to be alone with you.”

He glanced around. “We’re not alone. We are in sight of
the others.”

“So was I with Lord Cauldreigh. Or is that what worries
you? That it was Lord Cauldreigh? It would not suit your purposes if he
should form an attachments, would it?”

“What do you mean?” He reached out to seize her, but drew
his hand back. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, glaring at her.

She flinched. “I did not mean anything.”

He stepped back. “Never mind. I understand your meaning
well enough.” He laughed harshly. “It doesn’t suit me to think of you with
Trevor, but not for the reason you impute to me. However, I shall endeavor to
ensure my odious presence does not intrude upon you again.”

God, he always did the wrong thing where she was concerned.
He vowed to stay away, but then was drawn like leaves toward the sunlight. All
the while knowing he was wrong for her. And he still couldn’t win her
trust—trust he did everything in his power to smother, but which he wanted
desperately.

He pivoted and strode back toward the Bassetts’ mansion.
Aware of Miss Bishop’s footsteps hurriedly stumbling the opposite direction.
Lord, she was probably crying and couldn’t see where she was going. He had to
force himself to keep moving and not go to her again.

He’d taken several steps when he nearly walked into
Christian Forsyth. He raised an eyebrow. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“Inadvertently, I assure you. I was returning from saying
my farewells to Leticia, and your conversation appeared to be one I should not
interrupt.” He flashed a half-smile, his posture easy, relaxed.

Forsyth was in Trevor’s unit in the Peninsula. He’d been
sent to London with dispatches, and Sir Rodney had invited him to this
mission-to-save-Trevor disguised as a house party.

Sir Rodney claimed Forsyth was solid, and Trevor, who hadn’t
been informed about the plot to protect him, nevertheless proclaimed Forsyth a
good man to have at one’s back.

Neil didn’t have their faith in the man. He had a shady
background, his father a noted gamester who’d been killed in a duel after an
accusation of cheating. Forsyth had no known source of income beyond his
officer’s pay, and supplemented that by gaming. Neil didn’t know of any personal
reason for Forsyth to wish Trevor dead, but a man like him could easily be
suborned with enough money.

Forsyth, apparently unaware of the direction of Neil’s
thoughts, gazed toward the island, where Miss Bishop was just arriving over the
little bridge. “That young woman is trouble.”

“Why do you say that?” Even while agreeing with his
assessment, Neil was prepared to do battle to defend her.

The officer flicked an amused glance at Neil. “She has you
tied up in knots. It’s quite intriguing. I would have judged you to be
impervious to such an unsophisticated, provincial miss.”

Neil eyed him narrowly. “You are mistaken about my interest
in the girl. She has appointed herself to investigate the attempts on Trevor’s
life, and I have merely tried to discourage her from poking into matters that
could put her in danger.”

Laughter in his eyes, Forsyth said, “I see.”

His body tensing, Neil leaned toward the younger man. “Your
interest in the girl seems out of character as well.”

“Not at all. I’m a keen observer of human behavior. It’s
rather a necessity for a gamester, but I find humans fascinating even when I’m
not playing.”

Neil stared him down for several moments, then, saying,
“Just be sure you don’t take too much interest in her,” he brushed by him and
continued toward the house.

*

Once she reached the island, Libbetty halted, unsure what to
do. Lord Neil had disappeared. Lord Cauldreigh had not rejoined Edwina’s
group but attached himself to Tom and Irene. For Libbetty’s pretense of
enjoyment to have any plausibility, she must append herself to one of the
coteries, but each choice contained a trap: Edwina with her cluster of
admirers, Lord Cauldreigh with Tom. Sybille and Jonathan seemed too serious to
wish for an addition.

As she hovered uncertainly on the outskirts, Captain Forsyth
crossed the bridge. He strode to her side, smiling. “Are you already weary of
the festivities? Let’s step over to the temple and try the delicacies laid out
for us?”

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry. Where is Mrs. Dalrymple?”

He shrugged. “She returned to The Castle and is packing to
go back to London by now. She received an urgent message.”

“About Mr. Dalrymple?”

“He died some years ago.”

“Oh.” She looked around, realizing for the first time she
hadn’t seen Miss Clark that day. “Is Miss Clark leaving with her?”

“Yes, they always travel together.”

“How disappointing for you that Mrs. Dalrymple is leaving.”

“Not really. It was understood between us that our
friendship was temporary. Just as Lord Cauldreigh, I can’t form any
attachments while England is at war. For me, it’s worse than for Cauldreigh,
because if he left a widow she’d at least be amply provided for. I’ve nothing
to offer.”

Libbetty drew her brows together, and her heart nearly
stopped beating. Had Captain Forsyth heard her conversation with the
marquess? How could he have?

And also, he was a soldier, so why was he in England instead
of on the Peninsula? Had he been wounded like Lord Cauldreigh? He seemed in
perfect health.

“How strange. Lord Cauldreigh just now told me much the
same thing.” She looked up at Captain Forsyth. Would he acknowledge he had
known that?

“Ah, not so surprising. Death is on all soldiers’ minds in
times of war. We do not dwell upon such thoughts, or we could not do our
jobs. It does guide our actions, in such matters, however.”

“Oh, yes, I can quite understand that. I’m sure it would be
on my mind all the time, were I to be a soldier. I would probably be too
frightened to shoot my gun.”

“I think not. The intrepid Miss Bishop? If I recall, you
have already saved Lord Cauldreigh’s life.” He smiled at her, a teasing smile
that showed his devastating appeal.

Her face heated—that infernal blush that increased her
embarrassment. “Oh, but that wasn’t bravery. I never even thought of doing
anything, I just reacted.”

“That’s exactly what soldiers do, Miss Bishop. So you are
not so different from us.” He smiled again, and this time she read admiration
in his eyes, and her face flamed even hotter.

“Miss Bishop, it is because you are so brave that I feel I
have to warn you, don’t allow your attraction for Lord Neil to lead you into
foolishness.”

She stilled, glancing toward the Bassetts’ mansion, looking
in vain for Lord Neil. “What do you mean?”

Captain Forsyth rubbed his face, his expression concerned.
“I can see how he fascinates you.”

Libbetty pretended deep interest in the stitching on her
glove, ignoring the prickling warmth in her face. Were her feelings really so
obvious?

He touched her hand. “Miss Bishop, you’ll only be hurt if
you lose your heart to him. He is too sophisticated for you, and you don’t
suit his style at all. He likes more mature women, like Mrs. Dalrymple.”

“You are mistaken,” Libbetty forced out, shaken with
mortification. “I have never …”

He shook his head at her sadly. “It is perfectly all
right. We all have our youthful follies. I would just like to protect you
from deeper hurt.”

The humiliations of the day were complete. She wanted to
run home, or perhaps leap into the lake and sink to the bottom.

“Let’s forget all the gloom, shall we? There are other men
here to flirt with—Lord Chester and Sir Rodney.”

“I can’t go to them. Edwina—“

“Ah, yes. She is jealous of you, isn’t she. She thinks you
have stolen Lord Cauldreigh from her. She is pretty enough, but he would never
favor a milk-and-water miss like her. How about the Goforth sisters? It would
be good for you to have some other female friends of your age.”

She allowed her to lead her to where the Goforth sisters
stood with Francis and Mr. Murray. Edwina glowered at her whenever their
glances met. And Lord Neil never returned to the party.

As she and Tom walked home, he said, “How could you hurt
Edwina? You know she loves Cauldreigh, yet you lure him to you, ignoring her
pain. She won’t even speak to me, your betrayal has so devastated her. It
makes me ashamed I am related to you.”

“Oh that is just too much. The betrayal, if any, comes from
you. My own brother! Edwina herself asked me to draw off Lord Cauldreigh. It
seems she has changed her mind and decided she wants him now, but it is not
love. She has either bowed to pressure from her mother or has realized Lord
Cauldreigh is the best match around. She does not speak to you because you
aren’t even in the running as a good match. And you would never think of
noticing that while Cauldreigh ignores her, Lord Chester and Sir Rodney
entertain her well enough. If she can’t nab a marquess, she will make do with
a viscount or a baronet. You don’t need to waste your sympathy on Edwina.”

With that, Libbetty flounced away from Tom. She would not
go home in this mood and face the rest of her family. She took the path that
led to her favorite place by the brook. Sitting upon the bank, she allowed
herself to wallow in her heartaches and mistakes. Her life could never come
right again. How could she have said those unthinking, cruel words to Lord
Neil? Every instinct told her he loved his nephew and could never wish him
harm. Hurt as she was by the accusations Tom had cast her way, the accusation
she had made caused her deeper pain.

*

After the Bassetts’ garden party, Libbetty could not recover
her usual cheerful mood. Although she had already decided she did not wish to
marry Lord Cauldreigh, it was lowering to discover he did not wish for any
attachment to her either. As well, he was still in danger, his mysterious
attacker yet unidentified. Edwina was angry with her for reasons she did not
understand. And she had insulted and hurt Lord Neil.

Peasebotham had quieted; she received no invitations for
social gatherings. What shifts the Coltons made to entertain the guests from
London, Libbetty did not know. She saw little of Tom, who spent most of his
time out on various excursions.

On a walk, Libbetty headed heedlessly for the wood where she
used to meet Wat. Her encounter with him was unexpected. She had not seen him
since the end of their betrothal some weeks ago.

“I didn’t think to see you here,” Wat said in a sarcastic
tone. Sensitized by the modishness of her company of late, she noted his
jacket and buckskins, neat and of good quality but not well tailored. “Not
with your high-and-mighty friends today?”

“Lots of days I’m not with them,” she rejoined. It was none
of his business any more.

“Libbetty, let me see you one more time.” His tone changed
to a wheedling one. “It should not end thus between us.”

Libbetty did not answer immediately. She had treated him
shamefully and owed him another meeting, to apologize and make clear it was not
his fault she could not marry him. She could not help noticing his badly cut
hair and the dull finish of his workmanlike boots, comparing him to Lord Neil’s
impeccable tailoring and air of distinction.

“Ah-h, I’m not good enough for you now, am I?” Libbetty
wanted to protest at the pain she saw in Wat’s eyes, but before she could think
of words that would explain without lying, he had wheeled around and walked
away.

“Wat,” she called, but her voice lacked force. Either he
did not hear, or chose to ignore her, and she let him go. She continued home,
the weight of guilt hammering at her heart.

After that encounter, Libbetty continued her solitary walks,
but was careful to take a different direction that was unlikely to bring her
face to face with Wat. Occasionally, she saw Miss Bassett riding with Mr.
Colton. The last time Sybille and Irene Bassett had called at the vicarage,
Sybille no longer suggested Mr. Colton had made the attempts on Lord
Cauldreigh’s life.

Cauldreigh’s would-be assassin had also apparently lain low,
making no further attempts, at least as far as she had heard.

Needing to take action toward uncovering the miscreant’s
identity, she decided to call on the builder who made the repairs on the
vicarage. Some of his workers had been at the inn where Lord Cauldreigh was
poisoned, and she hoped to learn more about the men who worked for Mr.
Hedgesett.

Because Tom had Concobhar nearly every day, she had to wait
for an opportunity to take the dogcart that her father used for parish visits,
and which Mrs. Bishop occasionally took when she had several calls to pay.
Libbetty knew Mr. Hedgesett lived beyond Crossfield in a village called
Honeybridge. It was too far to walk. However, her mother had again taken over
making charitable calls, so Libbetty had few excuses to borrow the cart.

Finally Mrs. Bishop asked her to go see a family who lived
in the direction of Crossfield while she had paid calls nearer home. Libbetty
honored the request, then headed to Honeybridge.