Silver Sea (24 page)

After the awful scene in Adrienne's room, he paced the castle corridors like a caged panther. The air inside seemed dead, and he was starved for the sunlight and wind he was used to on the decks of the
Golden Eagle.
So Nathan walked to the stables and persuaded one of the boys to let him borrow a wild slate-gray stallion.

It was tremendously liberating to gallop across the soft green hills, a bit too fast for safety. The stallion jumped streams and stone walls, and Nathan yelled as they sailed through the air, his hair and the horse's mane flying. When the time came to turn back, he felt much improved.

"What's his name?" he asked the stable boy when he'd dismounted.

"I don't think he has a name. The coachman found him runnin' loose on the road to Southampton."

"Really." Nathan was struck by the irony of that. "He's not my horse, but since no one else has cared enough to give him a name, I shall. I'll call him Runaway."

Before the stable boy could reply, Hortie stepped out of the shadows. The expression on her usually pinched face was oddly complacent. "Mr. Essex? I don't mean to interrupt, but I can't stay long. They'll miss me at the castle if I don't hurry." Clearly he couldn't imagine what that could possibly have to do with him, so Hortie continued, "I have important news to tell you—alone."

He would accept assistance from any quarter. Telling the boy that he'd return to help with Runaway, Nathan led the way out the back of the stable, to the ruined wall massed with old roses. "Well? What is it, Hortie?"

"I heard some things I thought you should know."

"And why would you want to help me?" He watched her face carefully.

"I'm tired of being treated like a piece of furniture, after all my years of service. No sooner did you outsiders come in than I was forgotten!" Horde wagged a skinny finger at him. "It ain't right, sir! No offense, of course."

"None taken, I assure you."

"No offense to Miss Beauvisage either, but I don't want her here. If I help you, maybe you'll take her away, and things'll be the way they were before. If she stays, the way her ladyship and his lordship are talking, I'll never regain my rightful place."

"What's all this about Miss Beauvisage staying?"

"That's what they're planning. I heard 'em, but they thought I wasn't listening—"

"Perhaps you'd better start at the beginning," he suggested crisply.

Hortie nodded. "Yes. Well, when you left her room, and I was fixing the bath, his lordship said that he didn't trust you, and mayhap you were trying to cast suspicion on him so that no one would think you'd had a part in the crime!"

Nathan blinked, then slowly rubbed his eyes. "Good God, he's even more devious than I dreamed...."

"Yes, sir. And it was a shame, because I could see that Miss Beauvisage was more confused than ever by what his lordship was saying. He was reminding her that she'd ordered you to leave, pressing her about it."

"Something happened after that?"

"Well, I should add that her ladyship didn't lift a finger to defend you, which surprised me, since she's been so fond of you. But when we were in the corridor, and I was at the far end, I heard them talking, and it all made sense. She wants her son to marry Miss Beauvisage, so I guess she wants to get rid of you."

Nathan was stunned. "
Marry
her? Hortie, have you been into the sherry? I really don't think—"

"I know what I heard!" She drew herself up and thrust out her bony bosom. "Her ladyship was whispering that they'd have to work fast, while you're out of favor and Miss Beauvisage is in this weakened state. His lordship wishes he could just get you out of the way!"

"Hortie, how can I ever repay you?"

"Well..." She turned coy, batting her stubby lashes at him. "I can think of a few ways...."

"I'm afraid that I'm hopelessly faithful, and my affections lie elsewhere." He managed to touch her cheek and smile. "However, let's think of something else. I might be able to scrape together a few guineas—"

"I suppose that might do," she allowed, then grinned. "After all, we both stand to gain, right? I'd better go, then. Good-bye, sir."

When she was gone, Nathan perched at one end of the tumble-down wall and looked away from the afternoon sun. With both Lady Thomasina and her odious son plotting against him, it would be more difficult than ever to regain Adrienne's trust. Perhaps the answer lay not in opposing them and arguing endlessly with Adrienne but in playing into their hands.

Certainly it was time for a shift in strategy. What did he have to lose?

* * *

The next morning Adrienne was awakened by the warbling of birds in the great elm outside her window. Already sunlight spilled into the new bedchamber. The walls might be cracked and the paint peeling, but the light was much better than in her old room, and her mother had always maintained that sunshine could perform miracles on one's spirits.

Turning on her side with a sigh, she wished for one of those miracles. It seemed that a great weight was pressing on her chest.

"Miss Beauvisage?" Horde's voice was followed by a sharp knock. "Aren't you awake yet? It's past eight o'clock!"

"Come in, Hortie." She sat up in bed to greet Lady Thomasina's abigail.

"You're asked to join her ladyship's party for breakfast in the dining room at nine o'clock."

"I suppose it would do me good."

"Yes, miss."

Adrienne rose and dressed in a round gown of cream sprigged muslin, thinking that she would welcome the assistance of a maid to help with the fastenings on her gowns. She was growing weary of independence. Perhaps her parents were right. For all her bravado, it seemed that she wasn't as strong as she'd insisted.

If only the situation with Nathan could have turned out differently. Not long ago Adrienne could easily have imagined taking her troubles to him, weeping into his shirtfront, and allowing him to carry her through this dark patch.

Approaching the dining room, Adrienne encountered Huntsford Harms. He greeted her warmly, arms outstretched.

"My dear, how good it is to see you up and about! Would you like a walk outdoors later?"

"That would be very nice." And it
was
nice to receive attention from Huntsford. He never said anything troubling to her, and his only concern seemed to be her welfare. At the moment, he was the ideal friend.

She took his arm as they entered, but her smile faded at the sight of Nathan sitting in his usual place beside Lady Thomasina.

"Surprised to see me?" he murmured. "Don't I belong any more now that Huntsford has deigned to make an appearance?"

"Why must you be so difficult?" Adrienne asked.

"That's right, my boy," Lady Thomasina remonstrated. "Have a little consideration for Miss Beau's sensibilities. She's not feeling at all the thing at the moment."

He fell silent then, rising to fill his plate with the overcooked dishes on the sideboard. The eggs tasted salty and the sirloin was leathery, but Nathan chewed without complaint as the others chatted about the latest
Racing Calendar
and the new blue gloves Huntsford was having made in Winchester.

"I decided that it might be months before I return to London," Huntsford was saying as he gazed into Adrienne's eyes. "Why not have the new gloves made here, I thought! It's no good stomping about in a temper at Angus. Mummy assures me that he is extremely fond of the color blue, so it's not as if he
meant
to upset me by taking the gloves!"

Nathan couldn't help interjecting, "You don't sound completely convinced, old chap!"

The other man narrowed his eyes from across the table but laughed for Adrienne's benefit. "How amusing. Oh, Mummy, before I forget, I must tell you that my guests will be leaving this afternoon for Brighton. It seems that Prinny is hosting some sort of assembly at the Royal Pavilion. He's been rather listless since the death of Princess Charlotte, so everyone is taking this as a good sign that he's recovering."

"They aren't coming back?" her ladyship wondered.

"No. No, I don't think so." Huntsford turned to Adrienne again. "I have other concerns these days. Their interests seem quite frivolous to me."

Nathan had eaten his fill, and now he leaned back in his chair and dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "It would appear that we have all reached a fork in the road, as it were. I too am leaving this afternoon."

"What!" Adrienne couldn't help gasping.

"You did ask me to go, if you will recall, Miss Beauvisage." Slowly he arched a black brow. "And I have realized that you are quite right. Now that Walter Frakes-Hogg is dead, there is no reason for me to remain here. Besides..." Standing, Nathan pushed his chair back under the table and bowed. "You all are carrying on very well without my interference, hmm? I begin to perceive that four is a crowd."

"You are a wise fellow, dear Nathan." Lady Thomasina extended her plump beringed hand to him. "I shall miss you, however."

"I have truly enjoyed my time in your home, my lady." Clasping her fingertips, Nathan bent to kiss the back of her hand. "Perhaps we will meet again one day."

Adrienne stood up without thinking. "I will walk with you a ways. To say good-bye." She only knew that she must say something, and couldn't in Huntsford's presence.

When they were in the corridor, Nathan stopped and fixed her with a bittersweet look of longing. "Never let it be said that I wore out my welcome."

"I didn't really think you'd go."

He was surprised to feel a tightness in his chest. His eyes stung. "I've grown weary of arguing and of being told that I'm unkind. I have to remind myself that you are a grown woman and ought to be able to look out for your own... interests."

"Yes." Something seemed to be choking the words in her throat. "I ought to."

"I have a long ride before nightfall. I would have left already, but I wanted to make a proper farewell." Then, gently, he caressed the side of her face and let his hand drift down to cup her chin. "For God's sake, have a care, chit.
Try
not to do anything you'll regret later."

Adrienne could only nod, aching. All the things she wanted to say were impossible, so she whispered, "Safe journey."

"I don't believe in good-byes, actually." His eyes were tender, and the temptation to take her in his arms and kiss her was strong.

"But—" Adrienne plucked at his sleeve, unable to speak, and only nodded. As Nathan turned and walked away, she tried to memorize the shape of his shoulders, the appealing lines of his booted legs, the way his hair curled at the back of his neck. There wasn't room for any more pain in her heart, so she tried to pretend he'd be back, that it wasn't over.

Just then Huntsford Harms came up behind Adrienne, chewing a last bite of sirloin. "That's one person I'm delighted to see depart. Won't our lives be pleasant from now on?"

* * *

During the next two days, more farewells were made. The departure of Lady Clair, Alistair, Lucy and Peter the dog, and Sir Blake and his paintings was attended by a great deal of fanfare. When they were gone, the house seemed unnaturally quiet. Adrienne tried to busy herself by returning to the library Systems, but by now the footmen knew their work so well that she felt redundant.

Huntsford was glad to take over the task of keeping her amused. He taught her every card game he knew, but she thought them dull. On the second evening, as Adrienne nearly nodded off in the middle of an intimate game of macao, they were both roused by the sound of Lady Thomasina's bell ringing madly from the top of the stairs.

"Confound it, what's that all about?" His voice was tinged with irritation, for he'd been just about to call for a bottle of champagne and suggest that he and Adrienne share it in the moonlit conservatory.

As they ascended the stairs, Adrienne wondered why she wasn't more content with the new arrangement. It was true that she keenly missed Nathan, but she was determined to forget him, and the Harmses were doing all in their power to make her happy. Lady Thomasina behaved as if Adrienne were a guest rather than her hired companion, and Huntsford had been showering her with charm, exotic food and fine wines, and sweet consideration. In a strange way, she felt more at home with each passing day, yet the fit wasn't entirely right.

"Thank heavens you've come!" Hortie met them on the top stair, wringing her hands. Her face was even whiter than usual, and her eyes threatened to pop out. "Her ladyship has had a terrible spell!"

"Bloody hell!" cried Harms. "What sort of spell?"

"I suppose it's apoplexy, or worse."

Adrienne's heart jumped. She hurried ahead of the others, suddenly flooded with guilt for not taking better care of Lady Thomasina these past days and for leaving her alone this evening. Oddly enough, she'd become very fond of the bizarre old woman.

She feared she'd find her sprawled across the worn Turkish carpet, perhaps in the throes of uncontrollable seizures, but instead Lady Thomasina was propped up against two perfumed pillows in her bed. A branch of candles burned on the table beside her, she was wearing her silver brocade turban, and her cheeks were freshly painted.

Adrienne rushed to her side. "My lady, can you hear me?"

Her lids fluttered. "Miss—Beau?" She groped toward her with one hand. "At last, you've... come."

"Of course! Oh, I'm so sorry that I haven't been a better companion to you these past days. Perhaps I would have noticed signs...."

"I noticed them... myself, but I didn't want... to worry." She managed a feeble smile. "Such a—bother."

Huntsford came up behind Adrienne and put a hand on her waist. "Thank God she's alive!"

"I don't think... I have much time..." Lady Thomasina croaked. In the background, Hortie began to weep loudly. "I am so very grateful that... Miss Beau is part of our family now."

"I'm honored that you should say so," she replied, touched.

"I think of you... as a daughter. Would you mind if I called you... Addie?" Her ladyship peeked enough to see her nod, and then she patted the edge of the bed. "Sit beside me, Addie."