Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 09] - Logic Of The Heart (15 page)

"Now what has he done?" he asked in the cool drawl that was so
infuriatingly provoking.

"What has who done?"

"I thought you spoke of Lord Montclair?"

"Oh. Well, I was shocked to—to find you riding with me."

"I'd have thought you would have expected such a development."

That sounded sinister, and Susan eyed him uneasily. His mouth
looked hard and cruel. Was she going to have to fight him off… ?

"And I'll own myself dense," he went on. "But for the life of
me I cannot see what my brother has to do with my riding beside you."

All thought of red paint left Susan's mind. She was seized by
a horrible sinking feeling, and stammered feebly, "Your—br-brother?"

"Lord Geoffrey DeBrant Colwynne Montclair." She paled. "D-do
you say—that
you
—aren't… ?"

"No, ma'am. I am Valentine Amberly Montclair. The younger
brother."

"Oh—no!" wailed Susan, horrified. "How perfectly
dreadful
!"

Despite himself, his lips twitched at this. "To be a
Montclair? Or to be a younger son?"

"I thought
you
were Lord Montclair!"

"Did you? Dear me, I must warn my brother!" Susan's brain
reeled. So he was
not
the Beastly Baron who meant
to force them from Highperch! 'Heavens! What have I done? I struck the
wrong man!' Struggling to regain her equilibrium in the light of this
shocking disclosure, she said, "Then we owe you an apology. You see,
Lyddford thought—"

"I am aware, ma'am." The words fairly dripped ice. "Your
brother is extreme hot at hand. But I assure you I do not molest small
girls. Even if they trespass on our estate."

How coldly aloof he was. He wouldn't even let her apologize
properly. Irritated, she snapped, "No, you merely so terrify them they
cannot sleep at night!"

"If that is so, I am sorry for it, but—"

"
If
it is so? I do not tell falsehoods,
sir!"

He gave her a long measuring look. "Do you not, Mrs. Henley?
How admirable."

"More admirable than for your brother's friends to forcibly
invade my home, bully my servants, and beat my brother into
unconsciousness because he tried to protect me from being mauled!"

Inwardly appalled by this litany of abuse, Montclair frowned
at the riding whip in his hand. Then he said slowly, "My brother is out
of the country, ma'am. And has been for several years."

In which case she'd been right, after all. "So you act for
him, I take it."

They had come to the end of the trees and were approaching a
stretch of high level land with a fine view of the surrounding
countryside. Charmingly flanked by two weeping willow trees, a summer
house stood in the centre of the turf, the bright faces of lupins,
daisies, and stocks bobbing around it.

Montclair drew rein. "It will be easier to talk inside, madam."

Belatedly, Susan asked, "Where are we?"

He had, she discovered, a perfectly horrid way of regarding
her, saying nothing, but the upward twitch of one dark brow speaking
volumes. His slim hand moved in a graceful but mocking gesture to the
right. She yearned to strike it, and with considerable irritation
glanced where he indicated.

Distantly, the chimneys of a great house peeped above the
trees. Susan felt her face grow hot. "Never say that is Longhills?
But—it cannot be! I started out the other way. Oh, how vexing! I
suppose I did not pay heed to where I was going and must have ridden in
a circle." It sounded so lame that she was not surprised by his
scornful stare. Much chance she had of convincing this icicle that her
trespassing had not been deliberate.

"It would appear to be a family failing," he drawled
sardonically. "Your later father-in-law had the same— ah, tendency."

He dismounted in a lithe swing and tethered Allegro to a
branch of one of the trees. He had fully expected an angry response to
his barbed remark, but when he turned he found Mrs. Henley with hands
prayerfully clasped before her bosom and eyes closed. Heaven forbid she
was about to make good her earlier dastardly threat and swoon into his
arms! He scanned her uneasily. "Are you well, madam?"

"And grateful," she said, blinking down at him. "I was
thanking a merciful Providence. Only think—a few centuries ago had I
dared set foot upon your property you might have punished me by
providing me with an iron collar!" She gave a realistic shudder.

Montclair's lips quirked. Iron collar, indeed! With all her
faults, the widow had spirit and a sense of humour. He drawled, "Have
no fears, madam. Even were I so inclined, I own no serfs at present,
and will provide nothing more threatening than an offer to help you
down."

'Even were he
so inclined
?' The conceit
of it! And his eyes glittered at her in a most unpleasantly piercing
way, the strange amber flecks in startling contrast with the near-black
iris. She contemplated refusing his help, but that would mean a clumsy
dismount, and so she leaned to him. The hands that received her were
strong, but held her as briefly as possible. Susan, who would have been
infuriated if he'd held her longer, thought with perverse resentment
that he must be afraid of contaminating himself.

The summer house was constructed on the open plan, with
several wooden benches grouped under the graceful pagoda roof. Susan
found it delightful, but refused to give him the satisfaction of saying
so. She was surprised to find his hand supporting her elbow as she
mounted the three shallow steps. The noble gentleman very obviously
despised the scheming widow, but at least he remembered his manners.

"As a matter of fact," she said, unbending a little, "it is as
well you followed me, for there is something I must discuss with you."

"I did not follow you, Mrs. Henley. In point of fact, I was
surprised to find you here. And if you wished to speak to me, I cannot
but wonder why you—er, 'started out the other way.'"

She drew a deep breath. It served her right for addressing him
as though he had been human. What a pity that she had hit him with the
brush. She might better have used the broom! "I had intended to
apologize," she said coldly, refusing to allow his sarcasm to fluster
her.

"For invading my cottage? Or for your hideous scheme to
redecorate it?"

"Oh, neither. For being a—just a touch put out when you came
to my house."

"Just a—'touch'… ?" Montclair fingered his bruised forehead.
"It would be diverting to see you when you are really vexed, ma'am."

She smiled at him in the way that so exasperated Andrew and
which he referred to as her 'Sphinx grin.' If Montclair was
exasperated, he gave no sign of it, watching her enigmatically for a
moment, then turning away to dust off one of the benches, and bow her
to it.

Ignoring the overblown gallantry, she sat on an adjacent bench
and contemplated the view. How beautiful it was, all green and blue and
gold; neat and peaceful, typical of the west country she loved so well.

There could be little doubt, thought Montclair, scanning the
widow obliquely, that her reputation was well earned. She had behaved
with disgraceful abandon at the cottage yesterday; she probably hoped
to wound him by using that ghastly paint on the dear old place, and she
had a way of meeting one's eyes that was decidedly unmaidenly. Besides,
who ever heard of a lady wearing her hair so long and straight? That
style was quite out of fashion—and had been for about two thousand
years. She was a shapely creature, though, and was clever enough to
achieve an air of tranquillity. The way her hands were folded in her
lap, for instance; the graceful disposition of her body… The breeze
riffled her hair. It was, he noticed, very thick and silky-looking. He
wondered if it felt silky. She turned her head so suddenly that she
caught him watching her, which made him long to give himself a hard
kick.

. "You said we could talk," Susan reminded, smiling sweetly
into his level stare.

"By all means. When do you mean to begin?"

"Begin… ?"

"
You
said you intended to apologize."

"True. But then I changed my mind."

"A feminine trait, I understand." He looked bored. "Why?
Because you have been asked to leave my house?"

She said dryly, "You have some most unpleasant friends, Mr.
Montclair."

"Forgive if I contradict a… lady. My friends are not at all
unpleasant. But I
am
responsible for your having
been roughly dealt with. For that I do apologize."

At first infuriated by that deliberate hesitation before
naming her a lady, then astonished that he would deign to offer such an
apology, she murmured a confused "Thank you," and looking across the
drowsing valley below them asked inanely, "Does your brother own all
this?"

"As far as you can see in any direction, madam. Save for
Highperch Cottage."

"Your friends gave me to understand that the cottage was part
of the Longhills entail." She saw the irritated flicker of his dark
brows, and added, "They
are
your friends—no?"

A little muscle moved in his jaw. He answered evasively, "Mr.
Junius Trent is my cousin, madam. Highperch is not a part of the entail
and was made over to me by my mother after she bought back the property
from Mr. Ezra Henley."

"We, of course, dispute the fact that the property ever
was
bought back."

"My solicitor," he began with a weary sigh, "has all the
necessary papers and—"

"Oh, yes. Messrs. Ferry, Laidlaw, and Ferry. And you may sit
down if you wish, even though you mean to have your bailiffs throw me
out on the fifteenth."

The impudence of the woman! Montclair sat on the adjacent
bench. "You went to see my solicitors?"

"Hardly. How would I know who they are?" Susan took the letter
from her pocket and handed it to him.

His eyes travelled the page rapidly. He uttered a stifled
exclamation and crumpled the paper in his fist.

"I'll have it back, if you please."

Montclair muttered an apology, attempted to smooth the
wrinkled letter, and returned it.

Scornful, she said, "Am I to believe you were unaware this was
sent, Mr. Montclair? Faith, but you must be singularly ill informed by
your man of business!"

He tightened his lips, then snapped, "It says truth."

"Does it, so? Then you believe my father-in-law, my late
husband, my brother, to have been cheating thieves, and myself a
conniving opportunist!" She stood, coming to her full and stately
height, and regarding him from beneath haughtily arched brows.

He rose at once. "I cannot think my opinion would weigh with
you, Mrs. Henley. But I will give you the benefit of the doubt and
suppose you to be unaware that my solicitor holds your father-in-law's
signed receipt for the return of his funds."

"Your nobility is awesome, sir," she riposted, dropping a
mocking curtsy. "In turn I shall suppose
you
to
be unaware that my brother and I, as well as my late father-in-law's
solicitor, have branded that signature a forgery."

"A forgery!" Scowling, he snapped, "By whom, I should like to
know?"

He looked so fierce that Susan was a little frightened, but
she said bravely, "By whosoever
did
receive the
funds, obviously."

"Madam, that is absolute rubbish! The funds were directly
returned to your late father-in-law by special courier. Perhaps, owing
to Mr. Ezra Henley's state of health, he was unable to write in his
usual hand, but—"

She laughed merrily. "But how very convenient."

"The fact remains," he snarled, glaring at her, "that the
funds
were
delivered. What became of them after
that is not my concern."

"It is very much
my
concern, sir! What
you allege is typical of the nonsense by which the business has been
dragged out and delayed. We shall take you to court and—"

"And waste a good deal of time and money! Including the cost
of your paint and the restitution I shall claim for any defacement of
my property."

Susan cried ringingly, "Kindly allow me my say, Mr. Montclair."

She stood there, the picture of disdain, her riding crop
tapping at the skirt of her habit, shapely and slim, and so regal one
might suppose him to be the veriest peasant in the presence of a queen.
She was an unscrupulous jade, but by heaven, she had her share of
gumption! His ready sense of humour stirred, he bowed low. "Your
pardon. Say on, madam."

The sudden and unexpected twinkle in his dark eyes brought the
flecks of amber brilliantly alive, and his grim mouth relaxed into a
faintly whimsical grin so that from a ruthless menace he became a
charming young man. Again thrown off stride, Susan murmured, "Oh dear,
where was I?"

"Taking me to court," he prompted obligingly.

"Yes. Thank you. And likely prove that your courier either
delivered the funds to the wrong party, or—or perhaps absconded with
them himself."

"Oh, very good. But unlikely. Especially since the courier is
still in my solicitor's employ. However, do not let me deter you, Mrs.
Henley. If that is your best defence, by all means use it."

She eyed him uneasily. "I suppose that smug look means that
you are convinced we shall lose if we do so."

"I am convinced you will lose
whatever
you do. I have said what I wished to say. If you have nothing to add,
perhaps you will permit that I and my—er, smug look leave you."

"I have a great deal to add, including resentment for your
arrogant and unwarranted use of the word 'defacement.' Neglect sir,
constitutes far greater defacement than any painting and repairs I may
contemplate."

She had struck a nerve. His hot temper flaring, he said
explosively, "If you are truly so vulgar as to use
that
colour on Highperch, Mrs. Henley, I warn you that you will become the
laughing-stock of the county!"