Playing with Fire (17 page)

He closed the telescope and prepared to ride away again, but as he turned the horse he suddenly found himself looking at something he hadn’t noticed before—the entrance to the pyramid. It was set below ground level and was reached down a flight of stone steps that were covered with dead leaves and other debris from the heath, across which the winter winds often howled with a vengeance. No one could have been inside since at least the previous autumn.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he dismounted to descend the steps and test the door. To his surprise it wasn’t locked, so he was able to push it open. The hinges groaned and complained as they swung back to let the sunlight fall upon a low-ceilinged room that was completely empty. It wasn’t unadorned, however, for the wall opposite was painted with a beautiful Nile hunting scene, complete with waterfowl, fish, and lush stands of stylized reeds and willows. There was also a boat upon which stood a young king with two egrets in his hand. The other hand was extended to take a papyrus from the mouth of a…a
cat?

Randal looked contemptuously at the painting. What a ridiculous premise! No one in their right minds hunted with cats. For one thing, the damned things were impossible to train…. As he looked at the tabby that had been so meticulously painted, it seemed to him that it was meeting his gaze. There was a crafty look in its green eyes, a willful, designing gleam that made him suddenly want to shiver. Then he was sure he heard it spitting at him! A cold finger ran down his spine, and he withdrew swiftly, pulling the door closed behind him. He almost ran up the steps to his horse, but once in the sunshine he felt foolish for having been so impressionable.

He paused with a hand on the saddle, his head bowed to compose himself; then he remounted and glanced back at Chelworth again. A solitary figure was hurrying across the garden toward a postern in a corner of the high ivy-covered surrounding wall. Recognizing James, the footman he’d hired with the now-dismissed Joseph, Randal set his horse down the steep, awkward slope toward him, wincing with every jolting, lurching yard of the descent.

James waited nervously outside the postern, where the wild heath began again and there wasn’t another soul to be seen. Nevertheless he glanced around, only too aware of taking a considerable risk by slipping out in daylight like this. He didn’t want to suffer the same fate as Joseph, but neither did he want to forgo the fine purse promised by Lord Sanderby. “My lord?” he said as Randal reached him at last. “I saw you up by the pyramid. I…I was just about to send a boy to Bothenbury with a message.”

“To tell me Miss Richardson has arrived?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where is she now?” Randal inquired, gazing through the slightly open gate toward the house.

“All the ladies are taking tea with Sir Julian in the drawing room.”

“All
the ladies?”

“Sir Julian’s nieces are accompanied by a chaperone,” James explained. “And they brought an injured naval officer with them, so are awaiting Dr. Chivenor from Weymouth.”

“I see.” Randal searched in his pocket and took out a piece of paper and a pencil. He scribbled a few words on it and handed it to James, whom he already knew could not read. “Give this to Miss Amanda as quickly as possible. And don’t be obvious about it. Just slip it to her secretly. She will come to you, and I want you to bring her here. I will wait.”

“Yes, sir.”

James hurried away, closing the postern carefully behind him, and Randal slowly dismounted. He stretched and rubbed his sore back, but in spite of his discomfort, there was a faint smile of anticipation on his lips. Soon he would find out if his assessment of his bride was accurate or not. Not that he doubted it. He took a deep breath of the pleasing spring air, then flicked his riding crop against the back of his boots. He would make sure of her at this first meeting. Charm and gentleness would mark his conduct now, with no awkward facts that might frighten her off. Selected tidbits would be divulged at their second meeting, which he fully intended would be tonight.

* * * *

Amanda was seated a little apart from the others in the huge green-and-gold drawing room, which had a ceiling so high that she wondered if any light reached it at all. The room was like a necropolis, or some such place, she decided, glancing around at the lines of animal statues that stood guard along the walls like weird zoological exhibits. She particularly disliked the hippopotamus, which reared on its hind legs in a most unlikely way, and was so fat that it reminded her of a satirical cartoon of the Prince of Wales.

She hated everything about this house, she decided, still seething about the treatment she had received on the beach. Even now the others were all talking together, sipping tea and exchanging anecdotes about the voyage while they waited for Dr. Chivenor to hie himself from Weymouth to examine Martin. Amanda Richardson might as well not exist, for all the attention she had received! How dared they, oh, how dared they! She was more important than any of them, as they would all be reminded by the time she was done!

She glowered at them as they sat near the fire, the coals of which glowed palely in the full stream of sunlight from the nearby window. The sunlight also flooded over a faience figure of a demon that stood on a small table. Amanda was beginning to feel as if it were staring at her, fixing her with its evil glittering eyes. She tried not to think of it as she watched the three people she now regarded as her foes. Uncle Julian and Hermione Entwhistle were clearly birds of a feather, chattering about Ancient Egypt as if it were the only interesting topic in the world. Tansy was listening and adding a remark now and then, but she clearly did not understand half of what they were talking about.

Most of the conversation centered upon the wretched antiquities, now stored in the stables. Of special interest was that stupid slab of black basalt, about which Uncle Julian seemed even more dizzy and nonsensical than the chaperone, if such a thing were possible. He had gone on and on about how sure he was that his studies of hieroglyphs were on the correct course, and that he had two pieces of papyrus that were somehow important. He seemed convinced that the basalt would provide a vital missing piece in the jigsaw. Or some such thing.

Amanda sighed crossly, for she really didn’t care whether hieroglyphs were solved or remained a closed book forever more. Oh, it really was so
boring
here! If only fashionable Weymouth were just outside the door, instead of four miles or so away by road, at least there would be society worthy of her. She had tried to ask Uncle Julian about Lord Sanderby, but he had
prevaricated.
Yes, that was the word, prevaricated. Clearly he was still set against her becoming Lady Sanderby. He had muttered something about getting around to such things later, when everyone had settled in, and she rather gained the impression that her bridegroom was in London, so presumably it would be a positive
age
before she came face-to-face with him at last.

The door opened and a footman entered. He looked a little out of breath, she thought, and was then surprised at the way in which his glance moved meaningfully toward her before he bowed to Sir Julian.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but would you like more tea?”

“No, James, we have drunk our fill, I fancy.”

“Sir.”

James bowed again, then pretended to notice something amiss with the curtain by Amanda’s chair. He went to straighten the folds, and as he did so he dropped Randal’s note into her lap. Then he withdrew from the room again.

Amanda was startled, and for a second or so she simply looked at the folded piece of paper as if it had no business soiling her lap with its presence, but then she glanced around at the others. No one had noticed anything, so she quickly read the note.
My beloved, I await you outside. James will bring you to me. Come to my arms. R.

She recognized the writing from Randal’s letters. Her breath caught, and her fingers closed excitedly over the paper. He was outside now? Not in London? Well, she didn’t give two figs what dear Uncle Julian thought about her or her magnificent match, for he certainly wasn’t going to keep her from the man she was to marry. If Lord Sanderby wanted her to go to his arms right now, then go she would! She got up. “Er, if you will all excuse me, I…I have a headache and need to lie down for a while.”

“As you wish, my dear,” Sir Julian replied, trying to remain equable, for he found her a considerable trial. He was completely unaccustomed to tantrums and tears, and was of the opinion that portmanteaus and sea chests were not the only baggage to come from Constantinople!

Hermione began to get up in concern, but Amanda gathered her skirts and left the room, trying hard not to break into a run. James was in the atrium that formed the heart of the house. He lurked by the potted ferns that had been arranged around the base of a huge statue of a pharaoh that stood in the center of the black-and-white-tiled floor. The statue’s head was on a level with the gallery landing that encircled the second floor above, and looked as if it were keeping watch on what happened up there, where sunlight flooded through an array of skylights.

James had brought Amanda’s cloak, and he hurriedly placed it around her shoulders before leading her past the staircase toward the billiard room, which had French doors to both the front and rear of the house. Unknown to them, Ozzy and Cleo emerged from the ferns around the statue to follow. Stealthy paws padded softly behind as James conducted Amanda past the daffodils and ornamental pools, past the summerhouse and the leafy sphinxes, to the postern tucked away in the furthest corner.

“His lordship’s waiting out there, miss,” he said, then withdrew to a discreet distance. He heard the ivy rustling further along the garden wall and saw the two cats scrambling up to sit on the top. Tails swishing idly, they sat with their backs to him, gazing over the other side of the wall at Randal, who as yet knew nothing of their presence.

Amanda’s hand shook as she opened the postern. Randal turned, a quick smile on his lips, admiration warming his eyes as he regarded her swiftly from head to toe, before fully meeting her cornflower eyes. “How beautiful you are,” he breathed, coming to take her hand and raise it to his lips.

Her heart thundered. This illicit assignation was so very romantic! So utterly and wickedly what she had dreamed of that for once she could not think of anything to say. She, Amanda Richardson, was keeping a tryst with an earl! Randal read her like a book, and pulled her closer. “I have waited for this moment,” he whispered.

“So have I. Oh, so have I!” she replied, finding her tongue at last.

“I have ridden up there to the pyramid every day.”

“You…. You are staying around here?”

“Three miles away, at a house called Bothenbury. I could not stay in London, knowing that you would arrive here.”

“Does my uncle know this?”

Randal smiled. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Because he has allowed me to think you were in London.”

“Ah. Well, I fear Sir Julian has set himself against our marriage. Unfortunately, he does not appear a big enough fellow to forget the past and look only to the future.”

“I could not agree with you more,” Amanda replied angrily.

Randal put his hand to her cheek. “But what does he matter?” he breathed. “My darling Amanda, I have loved you since I received your likeness.”

“Oh, Randal….”

“How could I not love you? I cannot believe that my wife will be the most beautiful countess in all Europe.”

She melted a little more. For the first time in her life, she was the one being toyed with, yet she did not know it. She looked at him and saw a blue-blooded hero who would give her the sort of social life and standing that she craved, the sort of life she deserved, the sort of life she would climb over all others to achieve….

He smiled into her lovely blue eyes and slowly pressed her to the garden wall. “I’m going to steal a kiss, my darling,” he whispered, then put his lips to hers.

She did not resist, and in a moment her arms were around him as she surrendered to a seduction that was infinitely more experienced than anything she had known before. She prided herself on always being in command, always capable of cruelty to others, always being able to use and then walk away without a care, but this man was her equal. She was playing with fire and was about to be burned.

Neither of them saw two sleek shadows moving along the top of the wall above them; neither of them knew anything at all until quite suddenly Randal had to pull away from Amanda’s startled embrace in order to sneeze. He knew all the signs, and his head jerked up toward the two cats. He could have sworn they were smirking at him! With a string of four-letter words that widened Amanda’s eyes to saucers, he scooped up a handful of small stones from the ground and hurled them. The feline faces disappeared as the stones flew past, then peered impudently down at him again.

Livid beyond belief, Randal grabbed more stones and flung them with all his might. “Take that, you biserable dabbed gribalkins!” he cried.

Amanda stared at him as if he had gone mad, and Ozzy and Cleo leaped serenely to safety inside the garden, then hightailed it gleefully toward the house.

It was evening, and Tansy left her room to go down to her first dinner back in England. Everyone was to gather first in the library for a glass of sherry, that being Sir Julian’s custom.

The way to the dining room took her around the landing above the atrium, and she paused at the balustrade. The face of the granite pharaoh seemed uncomfortably lifelike in the glow of the lighted girandoles on the wall behind her, and she almost expected the statue to stretch out a hand and pluck her from her vantage point. More fancy, she thought, cross for giving in to such imaginings, but it was difficult not to think like that in a house where Dorset seemed more distant than the Nile. Even her bedroom boasted a figure of the jackal-headed god Anubis, whose uncomfortable presence was hardly conducive to relaxed sleep!