Seducing the Rake (Mad, Bad and Dangerous Heroes) (46 page)

Tony gave a deep sigh. “And here I’d been hoping to pass myself off as a gentleman of some credit.”

The duchess snorted. “Vain hope, if you ask me!”

~ ~ ~

They argued, all six of them, loud and long and cheerfully. The sunny afternoon passed slow and unnoticed and dusk settled gracefully over the lush Essex countryside.

Lambs trotted home, bells clanging, through the narrow hedgerows where avocets and skylarks trilled. The air hung golden, wreathed in a fine shimmering mist that clung to the green hills and twisting silver waterways.

And somehow Chessy felt more at home in that simple little inn than she had ever felt in all her life.

After a noisy and very informal dinner, it was decided that they should pass the night at the White Hart. The landlord was more than amenable, and Chessy saw that her father was relieved not to have to take to the road again so soon.

Several times Chessy tried to detach him from the group, hoping for a chance to hear the story of his escape, but each time he was pulled back into another story by the wide-eyed children who found in him everything of adventure and courage.

As the sky darkened to purple, Lord Morland went off to make arrangements for the children. To Chessy’s delight, they were to have a room that opened onto hers on one side and the duchess’s on the other. Morland had argued for the smaller room for himself, but since the bed was clearly at least a foot shorter than he was, he was overruled.

“And now off to bed, you two! We’ll make an early start tomorrow, so we can reach Sevenoaks in time for luncheon.”

“Oh, not yet! Just one more story!
Please,
Uncle Tony?”

Their guardian appeared unmoved by their cajolery. “Now, you two! Unless you dare to face the legendary monster of the fens.”

Elspeth giggled wildly. Jeremy looked torn between excitement and acute embarrassment.

“So, you are bold, are you?” The next moment, he charged toward the children and caught each securely under an arm, then hauled them laughing and protesting toward the door in what was obviously an old and hallowed bedtime ritual.

At the threshold he turned. “Say good night, monsters.”

The children gave their farewells, screeching as Tony tickled them unmercifully.

Soon after, Chessy and the duchess made their way off to bed. Only James Cameron stayed behind, nursing a very fine bottle of Madeira that the landlord had fetched from the cellar.

But the more he drank, the more worried he became.

~ ~ ~

Chessy was just drifting into a restless sleep when she heard a soft tap at her door. She sat up, her heart pounding as memories of her rooftop escape flashed before her eyes.

Silence. Then once again the hesitant tapping.

Chessy realized the sound came from the inner door that opened to the children’s room.

“M-miss Chessy?”

A gust of wind flung itself at the old building, making the eaves creak and the glass panes rattle.

The door burst open. Elspeth stood like a phantom in the doorway, her face as pale as her voluminous white nightgown. A frayed and well-worn doll was clutched tightly beneath her arm. “M-miss? Are you—that is, did you hear that noise?”

“The wind? Very nasty, wasn’t it? But totally harmless, I assure you.”

“Do you mind—the w-wind, I mean? When it groans and growls like that?”

Chessy’s heart twisted when she saw that Elspeth was trembling violently. “What is it, little love?” She pulled back the covers and went to kneel beside the girl, smoothing down her glossy braids.

The shivering continued. “I thought that—if you didn’t like the wind as much as I didn’t, then”—she swallowed as another great gust roared overhead—“then I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come and share my bed.”

Chessy caught her in a quick, fierce hug, then came swiftly to her feet. “What a lovely idea. Shall I just go and fetch my pillow?”

Elspeth nodded. As Chessy turned, the girl caught her hand and trotted along with her, unwilling to leave her side for even a moment.

Together they found the pillow, then walked into the next room, where Chessy slid in beside the pale little girl.

Jeremy was fast asleep on the far side of the room, oblivious to both the wind and a branch that was scraping against the window.

“W-would you like to read a story? The candle is on the dresser.”

Chessy’s breath wedged in her throat. Once again the old pain ran through her, along with the familiar cutting sense of shame.

“I-I think not, my dear. We don’t want to wake Jeremy, after all. Perhaps I could tell you a story instead. If I am very quiet.”

“Oh, yes, please. In the morning Je’emy will be ever so angry that he slept right through it.”

“Very well. Snuggle close now.”

Warm fingers caught Chessy’s hand. “I’m ready, miss.”

“Well then, let’s see. Once upon a time—”

“Long, long ago,” Elspeth filled in knowledgeably.

“Not fair! Have you heard this story before, imp?”

Elspeth gave a giggle. “Oh, miss, you’re teasing me. Do go on.”

“Hmmm, now where was I? Oh, yes, long, long ago, in a splendid land far across the seven seas there was a country where mince tarts and walnut cakes grew like apples on a tree.”

“Mmmmmm. Sounds … ever so nice.“ Elspeth yawned.

“Oh, yes, it was a very special place. A place north of night and west of morning.”

Chessy’s voice softened as she heard Elspeth’s breath slow into the rhythms of sleep. “And in that land south of the sun, north of the night, there was a very clever little girl. A girl brave and fair. A girl named Elspeth.”

Chessy smiled, feeling the little fingers relax on her hand. Very carefully, she eased from the bed and then bent low to tuck the coverlet around the sleeping child.

“Sleep well, little one,” she whispered. “I only wish I could do the same.”

~ ~ ~

“You should have stayed, Lizzie.” The duchess gave her white hair a final tug and set the silver-handled brush on the chipped dressing table.

Her companion did not answer, seeming intent on brushing a bit of dust from a pair of the duchess’s fine kidskin slippers.

The duchess frowned. “You can’t go on hiding forever, you know. What’s done is done, my dear. Someday you’re going to have to face that fact. And I have a feeling that sometime is now.”

Small and slender, the dark-haired woman sighed. She rolled the shoes in paper and then arranged them neatly in the top of a packed portmanteau. “I-I could not. I tried to, but—oh, it’s impossible!” She turned and the duchess saw that her fine-boned face was streaked with tears.

“Oh, Lizzie, no tears! Come here!” She held out her hands, and her companion came to sit beside her as sobs shook her.

“You’re so good to me, Amelia. Too good, I’m sure. After all that’s happened.”

“Nonsense. I’m simply a selfish old woman who follows her own wishes entirely. For I’ve discovered I have the very best companion in all the world.” She reached out and raised the woman’s chin. “But you can’t go on hiding behind me forever. Nor can you go on with this charade of being a companion. It doesn’t suit you, I’ve always told you that. And especially now.”

The woman named Elizabeth blinked back tears. Her eyes were red-rimmed in the lamplight.

And they were also a remarkable shade of amethyst.

“When are you going to tell her?” the duchess demanded sternly.

“Tell her? I
can’t.
How could I possibly face her after—oh, it’s all such a terrible muddle! She would hate me so.”

“You can and you must. She has a right to know, after all.”

The dark-haired woman sniffed and accepted the lace-trimmed handkerchief the duchess offered. “Tell her what? It was all so long ago. I was certain I was over it, that things were best left as they were. And now, to go opening everything up again, with all that pain and regret—” She caught back a sob. “I-I don’t think I can bear it.”

“If
you
don’t tell her, then I shall.”

“No! Please—”

“She’s got to know, Elizabeth. I should have put my foot down long ago, but I’d heard such stories about the man, such tales of his wild behavior. But now—well, he’s not the bandit I pictured him to be. Not at all.”

“Bandit? Oh, never. James was
never
that.” A soft, dreamy smile came over the companion’s face. “He was a good man. Stubborn and eccentric, yes, but a
good
man.

The duchess muttered an oath. “That does it! You’ve got to tell them.
Both
of them. Cameron is entitled to know. And Chessy—well, it’s time Chessy found out that she has a
mother
!”

The woman went sheet-white. “T-tell her? That I’m her mother?”

“Of course.”

“Just like that? ‘Hullo, my dear. Sorry I was gone, but now I’m back, and everything will be just splendid again.’ Oh, Amelia—I can’t!”

The Duchess of Cranford gave a snort. “Lizzie Granville, where’s your spunk? It got you through in the old days, before you came to me, and bad days they were. And you had to know that a time would come when this would happen.”

The woman with the amethyst eyes—eyes so like Chessy’s—gave a sigh. “I suppose I did. But not now—not yet—” She turned to the duchess then. “And she’s so beautiful, Amelia. So brave. She’s—oh, everything I’m
not.
I couldn’t even manage to weather the storm of my father’s disapproval.”

“There were reasons, as I recall. Your mother was desperately ill, and your father was unwilling to provide her the care she needed. Not that I was surprised. Old Granville was a hard-hearted bounder if ever I saw one,” she said darkly.

Elizabeth Granville stood up and began to pace the room, the lace handkerchief clutched in her fingers. “But Francesca—even if I did tell her, how would it change things? I have no place in her world. Nor in his.”

“You still care for him, don’t you?”

The dark-haired woman went very still. “Care?”

“Don’t mince words with me, woman. Answer the question!”

“I—well, yes.” It was a mere whisper. “In a purely platonic sort of way, of course. It would be nice if we could be friends again.”

The duchess gave a snort that showed her opinion of this idea. “Very well, I’ll give you until tomorrow night. Then I shall tell him, will you, nil you. Do you understand me?”

Her companion had barely heard. She was staring out at the lush Essex countryside, where a full moon rode cloud-waves of flashing silver in the wake of the stormy wind.

“He was always handsome—he is still so, don’t you think? And did you see how wonderful he was with the children? He must have been a splendid father to—to our child.” Lizzie’s fingers locked on the white muslin curtains. “Francesca—-dear little Francesca, with her sweet laugh and her chubby cheeks. And that unpredictable little dimple … How much I’ve missed. Things that can never be recovered. Oh, Amelia what a fool I’ve been—”

The next moment, her head sank down against the glass pane, and she began to cry in fierce, muffled sobs.

Neither woman noticed that the door, rickety at best, had blown open in the wind and now stood slightly ajar.

~ ~ ~

Outside in the corridor the Earl of Morland eased back against the wall.

It was impossible.

It was incredible. And yet … he had heard the words with his own ears, heard the duchess’s threat and her companion’s answers.

Elizabeth Granville. James Cameron’s wife.

Chessy Cameron’s
mother.

And what in heaven’s name was he to do about this discovery he’d made? The duchess was right, Chessy was entitled to know. But how could he lay the whole business before her without hurting her more?