The Heart's Companion (18 page)

"There you are!" Millicent said as Jane and Lady Elsbeth opened the heavy oak door that led from the old family apartments.

"Did you wish something, cousin?" Jane asked mildly, closing the door after herself.

"You know I do! I want you to release my mother. How dare you lock her up!"

"I beg your pardon," Lady Elsbeth intervened, "but it was not your cousin who ordered Serena confined. It was me." She linked arms with Jane and walked calmly toward the parlor.

Millicent sniffed and followed behind. "Only because you know which side your bread’s buttered. You’d tell a different tale if you knew of Great Aunt Arbuthnot’s will."

"Oh, come now, Millicent," Jane said as Jeremy opened the door to the parlor for them. Royce, ensconced on a sofa with his foot propped up on cushions, struggled to rise to his feet. He smiled welcomingly at her. A flush of warmth swept through Jane at his regard. Hurriedly she dropped her eyes from his and returned her attention to Millicent. "What can Agatha Arbuthnot’s will possibly have to do with Elsbeth? Or for that matter, your mother’s insane behavior."

"My mother is not insane!" Millicent denied hotly. Then she drew a deep breath. "Is it bad for her to consider another’s welfare before her own?" Her words were tight, lacking conviction. Sulking, she followed Jane and Lady Elsbeth into the parlor.

"Oh, please, Millicent, not that old chestnut. I heard that tale when I was young! I am not so naive today. Never has she done anything to benefit my welfare."

"But don’t you understand? That is just it! You have so much that anything she took from you would not be missed," her cousin exclaimed.

Taken back, Jane blinked, dumbfounded. "That—that is absurd! What do you think she is? A latter day Robin Hood? More like greedy King John," she said waspishly, refusing to acknowledge Millicent’s contention.

"Ladies! Ladies—please! Can we not discuss this matter with a modicum of decorum, rather than screaming at each other like Billingsgate fish wives?" the earl asked, laughing.

"Furthermore, as I seem to have somehow aggravated my ankle, I should appreciate it if you would all come in and sit down so I may do so again," he drawled, his eyelids drooping over his dark, unfathomable eyes while a crooked smile kicked up one corner of his finely chiseled lips.

Jane’s heart turned over when she looked up at him. He met her glance with a private one of his own that sent her pulses racing. Quickly she sat down, as near to him as she dared without being obvious. Conisbrough—treating Lady Elsbeth like fragile Venetian glass—led her to another chair. Staring out the window, Sir Helmsdon ignored them. It was left for Millicent to take a seat opposite the earl and Jane.

"Jeremy, please invite Lady Tipton to join us," Royce said. The footman looked questioningly at Jane. She nodded in agreement.

"Now, Mrs. Hedgeworth, I pray you continue," Royce invited silkily.

Millicent preened and shot Jane a superior glance. She felt confident the earl would see things her way. "Mama said that Lady Elsbeth’s life with Jane was no better than that of a drudge. But, owing to Aunt Elsbeth’s misguided notions of responsibility, she would not leave Jane until she was wed. "

"I see, so she took it upon herself to supply Miss Grantley with a husband. "

"Me," said Sir Helmsdon, coming away from the window where he’d stood looking out over the park. "But why? And why me? Why not Royce, here, or Conisbrough?"

Millicent shrugged her slender shoulders, a little pout thrusting out her lower lip. "You were convenient, and you seemed to desire her."

"And you did not want him," Jane added dryly.

Millicent pointedly ignored her. "And we could not envision the legendary Ice Witch with either the Devil’s Disciple or Black Jack! La! That is too comical for words!" she said, inviting them to join in her humor.

When none of the gentleman so much as cracked a smile, she began to fidget. "I don’t know what all the fuss is about. She’s nearly on the shelf. She should be thankful Mama thought to speed matters along, else she’d be forever knowing what’s good for her," Millicent said pettishly. She looked from one stone face to another, searching for a dram of understanding. "No harm came to her," she continued anxiously, her voice rising, "and none was intended. And—and I won’t pretend to mourn for that man. He was contemptuous!"

"He was a human being," snapped Jane.

Millicent’s mouth worked for a moment, then her face crumbled. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "No one understands. No one wants to understand. It’s always been for you. I’ve never had a chance with you around, not even with a lousy fortune hunter," she bit out, her head jerking up to cast a scathing look in Sir Helmsdon’s direction.

"Oh, Millicent, I do wish you’d stop that caterwauling," said Lady Serena from the door. She came in the room on Mr. Burry’s arm as casually as if she were returning from a walk in the park. "If you’d made the slightest push, you could have had Helmsdon. But you didn’t. You set your sights higher. Now you must live with those consequences."

"But Mama! You said—"

"Dry your tears. Your face is splotching. You shall have to learn to do for yourself. I cannot be expected to arrange everything for you all the time," she said severely, then turned her back on her daughter, dismissing her from her thoughts. "I apologize for taking so long to join you. I took the liberty of stopping by my room for my reticule." She walked toward Lady Elsbeth, a warm smile on her face. "Dear, dear Elsbeth," she said, extending her hands.

Lady Elsbeth kept her hands in her lap.

Lady Serena faltered, then laughed shrilly. "Oh, come now, baby sister, surely you don’t hold it against me to try to see you unencumbered?"

"I do not, and have never thought myself to be encumbered," Lady Elsbeth said softly.

"Well, naturally not. Yours is too much a warm heart," Serena placated. "Poor dear, you cannot see how you are being used. But never mind. I see now I miscalculated with Helmsdon. But when Jane is married to Lord Royce, all will be well."

"Mama!" cried Millicent. "You promised me I could have Lord Royce!"

Lord Royce’s eyebrows shot up. "I beg your pardon, ladies, but I do not believe I belong to, nor stand in immediate danger of belonging to, any woman," he said harshly. "I am not to be bought nor bartered for."

Millicent wailed loudly. Lady Serena turned toward her daughter and slapped her cheeks. Then she turned back to face Royce, all smiles. Shaking his head, Sir Helmsdon led a shattered Millicent from the room.

Jane hardly noticed what had transpired; her thoughts were on Royce’s words, which knifed through her heart. She had dared hope his pursuit of her had meant something. She was foolish. Royce was forever Royce: poison bottled by Vivian Montrechet and lacking an antidote.

A lump formed in her throat, but she tried to swallow it. Tears welled up. She blinked and took deep breaths, angrily willing the gnawing pain to lessen, willing her pride restored. Strange, she thought dispassionately, she had not realized until that moment, that she loved Royce. The infamous Ice Witch thaws, leaving only a puddle of water!

"So you say, so you say," Lady Serena was responding blithely to Royce’s statement. "Men are always ready with a denial," she told her sister, smiling conspiratorially.

Lady Elsbeth looked at her pityingly. It was obvious her sister was no longer right in her mind. "Serena—" she began.

But Lady Serena wasn’t looking at her. She was looking at the Marquis of Conisbrough.

"What are you doing here? I thought I got rid of you years ago. Well, no matter. You were easy to dispense with before. I foresee no problems now. After all, I can always do to you what I did to Simon and Hedgeworth."

Jane and Lady Elsbeth exchanged surprised glances. What did she do to Simon? Simon, Lady Serena’s twin, was killed in a fall from a horse—as was David Hedgeworth!

"Serena, what did you do to Simon and Mr. Hedgeworth?" Lady Elsbeth asked carefully.

"I led them to their deaths, of course. It was ridiculously easy, they were both indifferent horsemen. I taunted Simon that he could not ride Blue Lightning. You remember that stallion of Papa’s, don’t you Elsbeth? He was a skittish, foul-tempered creature."

Her sister nodded. "I remember Papa had him put down after Simon’s death."

Serena laughed. "The silly fool took the dare. We rode out by the cliffs. When he was near the edge, I fired my small pistol in the air. As I planned, Blue Lightning took exception to the loud noise. He bucked and reared until my dear twin flew off."

"He was later found at the bottom of the cliff, his neck broken," Lady Elsbeth said for the benefit of the others. "And what of Mr. Hedgeworth?"

"David the dullard? A burr under his saddle along with a loosened girth did the trick nicely. "

Lady Elsbeth nodded. "And I am to be next?"

"Oh, no dear," Lady Serena continued conversationally, "I should rather wait until dear Aunt Agatha dies and leaves you all her money—which, of course, you shall leave to me. "

"Aunt Serena," Jane said. "Why do you need more money?"

Her aunt turned a dazzling smile on her. "I don’t! But you see, Elsbeth was always the pampered baby of the family, just like Simon was the favored twin. It was so unfair! No one ever thought of me. So I thought of myself. I married the best, and I wasn’t about to let Elsbeth do better. I really can’t let anyone do better, you know. Not even Millicent. But she’s so featherbrained, she’d not have anything if it weren’t for me. And so you see, that is why you must get married, so Elsbeth will come to live with me. You have to. Or else I should be forced to kill you."

The bald words stunned the company. Conisbrough laid a comforting hand on Lady Elsbeth’s shoulder. She reached up to cover it with her own. Lady Serena’s eyes flared and she snarled. "No!" she screamed. "You shall not have her!" She lunged toward her sister.

Jane threw herself between them, knocking Lady Serena aside. Her aunt shifted her attack upon her, her fingers raking her face. Jane was able to hold her aunt’s hands back until they slipped away and Serena’s fingers closed upon the heavy chain about her neck. With a cry of glee she twisted it cruelly. Jane started to choke.

As she pulled on the chain with one hand, Lady Serena’s other hand dove deep into her reticule. When her hand emerged, her fingers were closed around a small pocket pistol, which she pointed at Jane’s head. "Back!" she snarled to the converging gentlemen. "I can pull this trigger faster than you can jump me," she said with relish. "Maybe I should, anyway. "

She pulled Jane back against her. Jane struggled to breathe, to stay conscious.

"Serena, my dear, my angel," cajoled Mr. Burry, sweat standing out on his brow. He licked his upper lip. "Let the chit go."

Serena’s grip tightened as she dragged Jane backward toward the large Gothic window. "No, you fat, pompous baby. "

"Angel!" protested Mr. Burry.

Serena snarled and edged farther away. Conisbrough and Royce, moving slowly, tracked her from either side of the room.

"Serena!" pleaded Lady Elsbeth. There was a flurry of movement from outside. Lady Elsbeth blinked in surprise, then quickly recovered, her attention back on her sister. "Serena, let Jane go. It is me you want not her."

"I’ll see you all in hell, in the unloved hell I live in."

"Serena, I love you. I have always loved you," cried Lady Elsbeth. "You’re my sister!"

On the other side of the window, right behind Serena, stood Jeremy and Sir Helmsdon. They drew their arms back, poised to throw large rocks through the glass.

"I say, what?" protested Burry, seeing them behind Serena.

"Burry!" screamed Elsbeth.

But Serena had already been warned. She spun around, dragging Jane with her as the first rock came. Her hand flew up to protect her face, letting go of Jane, who collapsed on the floor. It was all the opening Royce needed. He dove for Serena’s gun hand, slamming it above her head. His momentum carried them backward, through the jagged edges of the shattered window. They landed in the grass amid a welter of broken glass.

It was late in the afternoon. A sheet of gray clouds blanketed the sky and a fine mist had begun to fall. The lovely Gothic window was boarded up, the parlor empty and dark. Servants moved silently through the house, lighting candles and lamps. Still a gloom pervaded Penwick; a gloom that was as much in the spirits of its inhabitants as in the dark shadows of impending night.

Jane and the gentlemen guests were ensconced in the library. Few words were spoken between them and those few were murmured; the clock in the corner was louder, a steady beat punctuated by its half hour and hour chime. A cheery blaze burned in the hearth, but they did not seem to notice. They sat scattered about the room, lost in private thought or in the pretense of reading.

They all looked up immediately when they heard the muted sounds of conversation from the hall. They heard the front door open, then close. The men rose from their seats, and they all stared expectantly at the library door. They were rewarded when moments later the door opened to admit Lady Elsbeth.

Her face was white and haggard. She moved like a wraith into the room. Quickly Lord Conisbrough went to her side and led her to a chair near the fire. Then he went to the sideboard and poured a healthy dose of brandy into a glass and brought it to her. The smile she bestowed on him in thanks held the glimmer of her usual expression. They all took cheer.

Jane rose from her chair and crossed to her aunt’s side. She gently touched her hand in mute inquiry.

"She lives," Lady Elsbeth said on a long expelled breath. "The cuts were not as bad as all the blood would have us fear. We discovered after cleansing the wounds that only one required stitching. My greatest fear is that we did not get all the glass out. It would have been worse had not the window already been broken. As it was, only the right side of her body bears cuts. Most will heal nicely. A few, like the slash across her cheek, will scar, leaving a vivid memory of today."

She sipped the brandy, coughing a little as it burned its way down her throat. She took another sip, prepared for the sensation, and leaned her head against the back of the chair. "We gave both her and Millicent laudanum. They’re sleeping peacefully." She looked at Jane. "What shook me the most, I think, was her docility. I don’t know if she has any memory of today’s events. It’s like Serena isn’t even here anymore." She shook her head in wonder.

Elsbeth looked down at the glass in her hand, her voice distant when she spoke. "The doctor says that from now on she’ll need constant care and supervision."

"No!" The single word, loaded with anguish, burst from Lord Conisbrough. He went down on his knees beside Lady Elsbeth’s chair. "No," he repeated softly. "She will not win. I will not allow her to ruin my life a second time. You will not sacrifice our happiness for her!"

"Excuse me, Lady Elsbeth, I shall see that Lady Serena gets the care she needs," said a humble Mr. Burry, standing in the shadows by the bookcase. When it looked like Lady Elsbeth would protest, he came forward into the light and forestalled her. "I know I ain’t much to look at, and I’m often the butt of jests, but I love Lady Serena. Have for years. I ain’t blind to her faults, either, though I do act it. Fact is, I knew she was up to mischief when we come here, I just chose to ignore it. "

"But Mr. Burry—"

"I’m a rich man. I can afford to pamper her. Take care of Mrs. Hedgeworth, too."

Lady Elsbeth looked at him helpless, uncertain what to say.

"It might serve," offered Jane. "And everyone knows he’s devoted to her."

"But she may never be the same again. She may never be that woman you love. La! She is such a dissembler, I doubt she ever was!" Lady Elsbeth said, her soft hazel eyes full of doubts.

Mr. Burry rocked back on his heels, his expression grave. "I told you I love her. You could call me a liar if that mattered. I’ve been willing any time these past years to take her in sickness and in health. Well, I ain’t going to change my mind now. Mayhap love can guide her back to health."

The Marquis of Conisbrough squeezed Lady Elsbeth’s hand. She looked at him.

"Should it really ruin your life?" she asked whimsically.

"Yes. You know it would."

She turned back to Mr. Burry and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Thank you, Lady Elsbeth. I should like to go up and take a peek in at her now."

"Yes, of course," she answered, exhaustion creeping into her tone.

A frown creased the marquis’s brow. "Hold the door. Burry," he ordered. He took the brandy glass out of Lady Elsbeth’s hand, setting it on the table. Then he picked her up out of the chair.

"John! What—?"

"Hush. You’re near to falling asleep. I’m taking you to your room and placing you in the hands of your woman. Then I don’t want to see you until at least noon tomorrow. "

Despite herself. Lady Elsbeth chuckled. "How romantic," she said dryly as she laced her arms about his neck, content to let him carry her.

He scowled at her fiercely; but Lady Elsbeth didn’t mind, for there was something in his expression that told another tale.

When the door closed after them. Sir Helmsdon cleared his throat and approached Jane.

She’d almost forgotten his presence and looked at him in surprise.

"Miss Grantley—" he began formally.

"Do you wish me to perdition? Shall I leave?" drawled Lord Royce.

Sir Helmsdon raised his hand and shook his head. One of Royce’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. He sat down in the chair he’d occupied earlier, his elbows on the arms, his fingertips steepled.

"When I came to Penwick Park, you accused me of wishing to kidnap you, to force you into marriage. This I vehemently denied. I find I must now confess that I lied to you."

"Lied?" Jane repeated.

He laughed without mirth, a brittle sound. "Yes. I convinced you my intentions were honorable. They were not. I was ready to abduct you and force you into marriage by ruining your good name. My circumstances are that desperate, and I was lost to reason. Since I’ve been here. I’ve discovered a warm generous person behind that formal facade you maintain in society. That person I could not treat so shabbily. I wanted to tell you before I go."

"Go?"

"Yes, I’ve had my things sent on to the inn in the village. After the friendship you’ve shown me, I can no longer in good conscience remain under this roof. But before I go, I want to offer this advice, for what it’s worth. Don’t hide yourself away. Don’t be the Ice Witch, or the only gentlemen who will brave the cold will be fortune hunters, like myself."

He bowed curtly. "I wish you the best of happiness."

"Sir Helmsdon," she called after him as he strode toward the door. "What will you do now?"

A crooked smiled pulled at his lips. "Offer myself to one of those paragons of middle-class virtue. My position in society in exchange for their funds." He shrugged. "Perhaps I’ll even reform." He lifted his hand in a final farewell.

Jane noticed that Jeremy had opened the door before he reached it, as he had also done when Mr. Burry left the room. She shook her head. She didn’t think the young man would ever break the habit of listening at keyholes. Of course, if he hadn’t had the habit, he and Sir Helmsdon would not have been outside the window to provide the distraction necessary to stop Serena. She shuddered to think of the consequences. Her neck and throat still hurt, despite the soothing salve and the soft cloth bandage wound about it.

The red line caused by the chain Mrs. O'Rourke made her wear would likely not disappear for days. When Jane twitted Mrs. O'Rourke concerning the damage done by the medallion and its chain, the woman had smoothly reiterated that second sight was both a gift and a curse. Then she went on to remind Jane that she had said to trust in the Lord, and at another time to trust in a tall, dark gentleman. And didn’t Lord Royce disarm Lady Serena? And wasn’t he a Lord and a tall, dark gentleman? To that bald pronouncement, Jane had had nothing to say. She had gracefully retired to the library to join the gentlemen and await word of Serena’s condition.

Now only she and Lord Royce remained in the library. They were silent as they heard Sir Helmsdon jovially call for his hat and coat and then close the front door firmly behind him.

Jane glanced over at Lord Royce, suddenly very nervous. He was frowning, his dark brows drawn together in a straight line.

"Helmsdon is right," he finally said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You have locked yourself away for so long that the only gentlemen who come around you are more interested in your purse than your person. I can’t take advantage of that."

"You can’t take advantage of what?" Jane asked sharply. A little flicker of hope began to burn within her. Her heart beat faster and her breathing rate increased, like bellows fanning the fragile flame. She rose from her chair, forcing him to do likewise.

"The Jane Grantley that society knows is only a facade, a shell covering a vibrant woman. That realization gives me unfair advantage."

"How so?" she asked whimsically, coming closer to him.

"Sit down, Jane." He stepped away from her, turning toward the fireplace.

"Why?" she asked, coming up behind him. He jumped when she laid a hand on his shoulder.

Angrily he spun around, grasping her by the shoulders. He propelled her backwards into the chair he’d vacated, then he stepped away quickly. He ran a hand through his thick, marsh-brown hair as he stood looking down on her.

"You are a desirable—nay, more than that. You are a passionate woman," he said harshly, his breathing ragged.

"I am?" Jane asked blandly, a little smile playing at the corners of her lips. "No," she said with a sigh, "I fear you must be wrong. I have never roused strong feelings in any man, nor felt any myself. I doubt that I could," she said with a touch of wistfulness.

"What? Never—" A grim expression hardened his features. He strode toward her, jerking her out of the chair. She came willingly, leaning toward him.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his hard body as his lips claimed hers. She opened up to him eagerly, lifting her hands and threading her fingers through his hair, keeping him close. The prickly tingles swept her body. She gave herself up to the feeling, riding it as a ship rides the waves, glorying in it.

He groaned as he took his lips from hers and kissed her neck. Abruptly he bent to pick her up, raising her high in his arms. She laughed delightedly, her arms around his shoulders, her green eyes shining. He sat down in a chair with her on his lap. She nestled close to him.

"Baggage," he said.

She smiled. "That’s what Sir Helmsdon called me yesterday," she murmured.

"Well, he was right. You tricked me."

"Did I?" she asked blandly. "You mean you did not want to kiss me?"

"Yes I did, and you know it. But I was determined not to. "

"Why?" she asked, running her fingers through his hair, delighting in the feel of it.

He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands down. "Because, damn it, I love you! But I would not have you marry a fortune hunter with a disreputable reputation. You deserve more than that."

"Are you saying you’ve been toying with my affections?"

He groaned. "No, but I’m damned certain you’re toying with mine!"

"Oh, no! For you see I am quite ready to do the honorable thing by marrying you, so that can’t be toying, can it?"

"You don’t know what you are saying."

"Yes I do. But I really did not expect you to ruin a woman’s reputation quite so callously."

"What are you talking about?" he asked suspiciously.

"The rumors and the gossip surrounding this encounter shall be all over the neighborhood within hours. And from the neighborhood, I’m quite certain it will spread to London. Highly embroidered, of course. Scandal broth. How society loves a good tale, as you yourself well know. "

"It won’t wash, Jane. There is no one about but us to know of this interlude."

She thrilled at his use of her first name, for it told her, despite his words, how he felt about her. But she did not bring it to his attention. Instead, she turned her head toward the door.

"Jeremy knows, don’t you Jeremy?" she said in an even, conversational tone.

"What?" demanded Royce, leaping to his feet as the door opened.

Jane slid to the floor. "Well, really, Vernon!"

He blushed red, looking from her to Jeremy. He put out a hand to help her to her feet, then turned an angry stare on both of them. Jeremy trembled slightly until he noted Jane’s calm acceptance of Royce’s anger. She even nestled closer to him.

"Now Jeremy," she said, "from what you have heard, do you think Lord Royce has remained scrupulously honorable?"

He grinned, understanding her game. "No, ma’am. "

"Would you say he has compromised me?"

"From what I heard ma’am, I’d say definitely. "

The earl emitted a low-throated growl.

Jeremy looked at him a little apprehensively, but remained firm.

"This is blackmail," Royce said. ’

"Yes, I believe it is," Jane responded tranquilly. "But what do you expect? You told Serena and Millicent that you could not be bought or bartered for, so what was left to me except blackmail?"

He smiled wryly. Then his eyes narrowed and he stared at Jeremy. "I fear your talents are wasted here. The Home Office or Bow Street would delight in your skills. Now, get out of here. You’ve done your part. Allow me to do mine. And this time, see that no one listens at the door—including herself!"

"Yes, sir," he said eagerly, backing out of the room, but not before he caught Jane’s broad wink.

The earl caught it, too. "Baggage."

"Yes, I believe you already said that," she said, turning to face him and linking her arms about his neck.

"Are you quite certain, my love, that you want an old reprobate, such as myself?"

"I don’t think I’d be happy with anyone else."

"I’m almost as heavily into debt as Helmsdon," he reminded her.

She shrugged. "I’m not, and you won’t be for long."

"Be very certain, Jane, for I don’t know that later I could muster the strength to do the noble thing and walk away from you."