The Highwayman's Bride (17 page)

But what about Alexander? What about Mary?

Though Tess had only been at Charnley Hall a short while, already sweet Mary with her sad eyes and gentle nature had found a place in her heart, as had Alexander. How could she leave them?

Reaching the top of the stairs, she stumbled along the hallway and bypassed the room she’d shared with Aiden. She all but fell through the doorway to her new room, closing the door behind her. Slumped on the bed, she dropped her head into her hands.

Stay? Or go?

In her heart she knew it was not ultimately Mary or Alexander who stopped her from leaving, but her love for Aiden. A love that wouldn’t go away.

A tap on the door and Tess sniffed back her tears. “Come in.”

Maria entered, carrying an armload of Tess’s clothes. Saying nothing, Tess stood back as the maid efficiently stored her possessions.

Task finished, Maria rubbed her hands down her apron. “Would you like some assistance, m’lady?”

What she wanted was…Actually she didn’t really know anymore. She offered a forced smile. “No, I’ll be fine.”

With Maria gone, she poured water from the pitcher into the bowl and with a linen cloth washed quickly and then chose a gown of dark blue velvet. Dressed, she spied herself in the mirror. The first thing that sprang to mind was, would Aiden like it?

She shook her head. How stupid. It did not matter if he did.

Oh, yes it did.

Heart heavy, uncertain about her future, Tess found Jasper and Alexander playing a game of fox and geese in front of the roaring fire. Mary scribed in her journal, a relaxed smile on her face. It warmed her heart that her sister-in-law was happier day by day. Mirabelle’s Musings seemed to be helping, too.

Not the same could be said of Aiden.

Her husband sat in a wingback chair in the corner of the room, a brandy in one hand and wearing the most ferocious scowl.

“Mama, Mama,” Alexander’s call beckoned.

Mama!

Hearing that single word, her heart bloomed. They played for some time and once the game ended, Jasper delighted them with adventure stories of dragons and brave warriors. Then he talked of highwaymen and Tess snuck a peek in Aiden’s direction. His mood had not changed one iota.

The day progressed and she, Jasper, Mary, and Alexander took a walk to the river, deciding to make a snowman on their return.

Aiden stayed silent and aloof, refusing to join in, and as early evening settled and dinner was announced, Mary took Jasper’s arm. At the doorway, Alexander’s nanny beckoned him and Tess turned to Aiden. “Can Alexander not dine with us?”

Aiden slugged back the remnants of his drink. “He is a child. He eats in the nursery.”

“Surely on a special day like today, and with your family all around you, he should be included.”

Aiden’s mouth thinned. “Do not interfere, Tess. It’s none of your business.”

“You keep saying that, but as your wife I have a right to be involved.”

“A stolen right,” he countered with biting sarcasm.

Her hands curled tight, an action he must have noted.

“Calm down,
dear wife.
One would not want you to lose control. Again.”

She exhaled a hard breath. “And you would do well not to patronize me. This is not about…about what happened between us last eve,” she said determined to hold her head high and not falter beneath his glaring inspection. “but about your son.”

“My—”

“Son,” she reiterated.

“You do not know what you are talking about.”

Tess didn’t deviate. “Yes I do. We’re talking about a child. A child who needs his father. When I lost my parents I grieved deeply, but I also remembered the wonderful life they had given me. The fun and laughter, the lessons I had learned. What will Alexander remember of you?”

And with that she turned away from the man she loved but did not understand, and walked out of the room and upstairs to the nursery.

Alexander’s beaming smile greeted her. “Mama!”

“Would you like to eat with the grownups, Alexander?” she asked.

His eyes lit up. “With Papa?”

“Yes, with your Papa.” Tess hoped Aiden would not balk.

She should not have worried. Much. Though a strained affair, Alexander’s youthful exuberance and delight at being included meant he never noticed a thing.

Chapter Fourteen

Love can be hidden

Love can be lost

Beware of what you wish for

For there is no turning back.

Mirabelle’s Musings

December 31st, 1813

For nigh on a week Tess kept her distance from Aiden.

Hoping the solitude of the frozen countryside and the paths along the river, now frozen over in patches, would offer a semblance of haven to her turbulent thoughts, she took up walking again.

It proved futile.

She and Aiden circled each other like peacocks in a ritualistic dance of courtship, where neither was prepared to give in.

How could she? Her husband’s stubborn refusal to discuss any matters pertaining to Alexander riled her.

He was a delightful child, full of life and enthusiasm. All he wanted was the love of a father.

The little boy already had her love. At bedtime she would tuck him in, read him a story, and then kiss him good-night. It had become their ritual after a day of walks, playing games, and answering his unending questions. They were moments she had begun to cherish.

Last night as she’d gone to leave, he had wrapped his chubby arms around her neck and whispered in her ear. “I love you, Mama. Thank you for being my mama.”

That moment had sealed her fate and she had left quickly, not wanting him to see her tears. She did love him. And she loved his father too.

The trouble was, one part of her desperately wanted to leave, knowing that living with a man she loved and who did not love her back would destroy her. Yet it was because of that love that she could not leave.

As the house came into view, the thick, swirling fog parting as Moses parted the Red Sea, Tess tugged her cloak tighter and ducked her head down to evade the icy winds.

Once inside, Barlow took her cloak. “There is a letter for you, m’lady.”

“For me?”

“I’ve left it on the table in the morning room.”

Removing her bonnet and her leather gloves, she passed them to Barlow and headed into the morning room.

Jasper lounged in a leather wingback chair in front of the fire. His appearance shocked Tess. With his neckcloth undone, jacket wrinkled and jaw unshaven, he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days.

He glanced at her with bloodshot eyes. “It’s all undone, Tess. He will not help.” He guzzled a mouthful of whatever he drank.

Tess shook her head. “There is nothing I can do, Jasper.”

“Surely you can use your womanly charms.”

Tess stiffened, her smile close-lipped. “I will pretend I did not hear such from you.”

Jasper shoved himself from his chair and drank the dregs of his drink. “I’m sorry,” he said, wavering toward the sideboard where the crystal decanters waited. He refilled his glass.

Oh, dear. This young man had more than money problems, but only he could fix them.

She scooped up the crisp white envelope lying on the sideboard, surprised to see that the outbound correspondence Barlow usually took care of hadn’t been handled.

She spied one for a publisher and recognized Mary’s script. It seemed her sister-in-law had been busy with her musings.

Retrieving the letter opener, Tess took a seat. With the sharp blade she ripped at the envelope and withdrew the single folded page. She spied the signature.

Tulip.

“Dear Tess, I do hope you are happy and that your husband is gentle. The winter is the worst they say for years, and ’tis possible the Thames will freeze over. Do you remember as a child the frost fayre on the small lake beside your home?

However, I must tell you that Luther is heading your way…”

Tess’s throat closed over, an irrational fear igniting. She read on.

“He has a new business venture and will be in your area on the thirty-first for a meeting later in the day—”

“That’s today,” Tess said aloud.

“What is?” Jasper was back in front of the fire.

“My Aunt Tulip has written to say Luther is visiting the area to do business. He’ll be here today.”

“Lucky man. I hope it’s profitable.”

“What’s profitable?” Aiden strode into the room and instantly her gaze locked with his, though it was only a moment before he glanced away.

“Your wife’s uncle has a new venture and is visiting the region.”

“Luther?” Aiden crossed the room, coming to stand in front of the fire. “You have received word?”

“A letter,” she said, proffering it to him.

His eyes darkened to pitch as Aiden snatched at the letter. He scanned Tulip’s fine script. “What else do you know? What else?” He dropped the letter back in her lap. “I’m warning you, Tess,” he said, as he reached for her and pulled her from her seat, fingers digging into her flesh.

“Aiden! Stop!” He didn’t let go and Tess winced. “Aiden!” She wrenched herself from his grip and stumbled backward, massaging where his fingers had dug into her arm. “Don’t you dare bully me, Aiden,” she admonished, taking another step back. “I will not put up with it. Not from you. I had enough of Luther’s bullying to last a lifetime. No more. Do you hear me? Do you?” Her voice rang loud and true. She would not put up with that from anyone. Especially from the man she loved.

His breath expunged in a burst, horror etched on every inch of his face, eyes filled with remorse. “I’m…oh, God, Tess. I’m sorry. I would never hurt you. Never. It is Nash.”

“Nash? What has he got to do with my uncle?”

“You’ve met him.”

Tess wracked her brains for such a meeting and came up blank. “I think you’re mistaken.”

“Your uncle was talking to him at the Bancroft ball.”

Her eyes widened, realization suddenly clear. “That man, he…
he
is Mary’s Nash? The man you are hunting.” She sank back down to her seat. “I did not know. Believe me.” Nash and her uncle. “He was someone who came to visit occasionally. His name was…” She frowned as she scrambled to remember. She had barely noticed him, taken little interest. “A…a Foster…Nesbitt. Oh—” She clasped a hand to her mouth. “His initials are FN, the same as your Mr. Nash.”

“Exactly. A bit basic, but effective.”

“Obviously, since he fooled me. But what has Luther got to do with him?”

“They’re business partners.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“It is if the business is importing illegal champagne.”

“The same business you are trying to catch Nash undertaking.”

“It is.”

Aiden’s confirmation caused a sour taste to swirl inside her mouth. “What now?”

“Now, I get him.”

Jasper, glass in hand, dragged himself upright and stumbled over the table. “Nash is no fool, Aiden. He has his scouts.”

“The man is cunning, I agree, but I’m cleverer. I will get him, if it’s the last thing I do.”

The prophecy!

Aiden strode from the room and Tess hurried after him. “Aiden.”

He turned to face her and the dark fury she’d witnessed in his eyes only moments ago had dissolved. His pistol was already tucked into his tailcoat pocket, a cloak drawn around his shoulders.

She hated these moments when he was about to ride off into danger. It spurred so many questions, ones she was afraid to give life to, consider, or contemplate.

Without thinking she reached a hand out to him and caressed his strong jaw. His stubble abraded her fingertips and the sudden memory of it scraping across private places, pleasure places, rushed back. Tears threatened, but she would not let him see her distress. “Please be safe.”

He clasped her hands in his and squeezed them, then sought her mouth in a fierce kiss, branding her as his.

She was.

She sighed into him, taking everything she could from their kiss and clung to the edges of his cloak.

Dear lord, how could she give up this man?

“Tess.” He whispered her name against her ear. “I need to leave now.” His hands shifted to her shoulders and he gently pushed her away from him.

She stared up at him. She loved him so much.

With a soft kiss to her forehead, he spun away, nodded to Jasper. “Look after everyone.”

Then he was gone and her world collapsed.

…

Mary found her alone in her chamber, her hairbrush in her lap, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, my dear Tess, do not cry. He is a brute, that brother of mine.”

“No. No he’s not.” Tess shook her head, hair falling across her face. “He is a man of honor and great loyalty.”

“Aye,” Aiden’s sister agreed, as she sat on the bed beside Tess. She put her arm around Tess. “But at what cost?”

Mary’s comment surprised her. “Do you not want Nash brought to justice? I would have thought you, of all people, would want that.”

“The man is out of my life. Oh, I admit I wanted him dead,” she said with all seriousness. “I wanted him to burn in the fires of hell, but I can breathe now. I can smile. I see the sun, the flowers, the birds—”

“Oh, Mary.” Her tears renewed, but they were not out of sadness—but joy. Joy in her heart to hear such hope in Mary’s voice.

“Goodness, I’ve just remembered what I came to tell you.” She gave Tess a secretive look.

“What?”

“We are expecting visitors. I’ve just received a note from my friend Charlotte,” she said, reaching for the slip of paper from the pocket in her gown. “She is Lord Beswick’s sister. They are coming to join us for a day as they’re staying at Portlea Manor not far from here, and,” she said, her cheeks suddenly tinged pink, “the Duke of Harlgrove is accompanying them.” Mary’s eyes shone bright. “He is known about the
ton
as rather a cad, you know.”

“Is this part of your Mirabelle gossip, Mary?”

Mary tapped a finger to her nose. “That would be telling, but all the young women are batting their lashes at him.”

“And you?”

Mary’s blush deepened. “Certainly not.”

“Oh, Mary, you are such a bad liar. So tell me,” Tess asked, leaning forward, barely able to contain her interest. “What is he like?”

Mary entertained her for some time, the two of them in fits of giggles as Mary recounted the time in London when she had been presented to the Regent.

“I can see why you’re so successful with your writings. You tell stories just as you write them as Mirabelle. Such talent.”

“It is amusing.”

“More than that. You have made me laugh when laughter was the furthest thing from my mind.”

“I’m glad.” Her sister-in-law leaned over and hugged her. “And now I must go and prepare for our visitors.”

“One visitor in particular?”

Mary’s eyes widened, but she simply feigned a smile and turned to leave.

“Don’t forget to pick out your best dress, Mary.”