The Makeshift Marriage (19 page)

Laura watched. What a truly consummate performance it was; one would need to know the truth about Augustine Townsend in order to see through it, for it was perfect in every way and the innocent could not even begin to guess how false it all was.

Nicholas glanced at her. “Laura
—?”

“I
—I must go, I have much to do,” she said, hating herself for lying to him but unable to bear watching Augustine exert her undoubted power over him.

Tears pricked her eyes as she hurried away, and over and over again Augustine’s mocking voice seemed to follow her, I already know from Nicholas’s own tips that he doesn’t want you, that he wishes he had never, in a moment of great stress, taken you as his wife…
.
The question Augustine’s arrival had interrupted could be finished easily enough. He had been about to ask if his wife regretted their marriage as much as he did…
.

Some footmen were approaching in the opposite direction, and rather than have them see her in such an obvious state of emotion, she thrust open the library door and hurried inside.

But the library was already occupied. Daniel Tregarron had at that moment returned from visiting some other patients. His leather case lay on a table and his top hat and gloves were beside it. He was pouring himself a glass of cognac, and he turned in surprise as the door opened and closed so hastily. As soon as he saw her face, he put down his glass and hurried to her.

“What is the matter?”

Dismayed, she stared at him. Confusion overtook her then. “N-nothing.”

He took her face in his gentle hands. “Tell me.”

The kindness in his voice and the concern in his dark eyes proved too much, and the tears began again. “Please, Dr. Tregarron
—”

“You told me that you regarded me as a friend, and so I am. So tell me why you are crying.”

“He doesn’t want me,” she whispered then. “He told her that he wished he had never married me.” The hot, desperately unhappy tears welled down her cheeks, and she shook from head to toe with misery.

She affected Daniel greatly in that moment, too greatly for him to restrain himself from pulling her into his arms. He offered the comfort she needed so very much, and she thought nothing of turning to him, hiding her face in his shoulder as she wept. She meant no encouragement by her action, for although she knew he found her attractive, she had no real idea of what she had awakened in him. He could feel her body trembling, and he closed his eyes. Sweet Jesu, this woman stirred emotions in him over which he had hitherto been in strict control. Now those emotions were perilously close to the surface…
.
Just holding her to soothe her sorrows made him realize anew how very much he desired her. The perfume of her hair was warm and seductive, and a stray curl tumbled down from its pin, resting darkly against her smooth, bare shoulder. The temptation was almost unbearable, and he moved away slowly. He had admired her from the outset, but now it went far beyond that. The mixture of strength and fragile femininity he found in her, the uncertainty and then the determination which made her so different, so fresh and intriguing, had conspired to keep her constantly in his thoughts since first he had seen her barely a week ago. Had it only been a week? She seemed to have been on the edge of his consciousness forever…
.
She was Nicholas Grenville’s wife and she loved her husband with all her heart
—but she had come into Daniel Tregarron’s life and stolen his love within days.

She looked at him. “I know that I am not the wife he would have chosen under any other circumstances,” she whispered, “and I know that I cannot ever have his love
—but I still did not think he would be cruel enough to say something like that to her, not to her of all people….”

“Is that what Augustine Townsend told you?”

“Yes.”

“And you would believe her before you would believe the Nicholas you know?”

“But I don’t know him, do I? All I really know is that one day in Venice. For that short time he was everything I could have wished, and I
did
wish it so very much. But I know that he behaved as he did then simply and solely because of what lay ahead of him the next day. I cannot ignore the truth, or delude myself that I mean anything to him, but I still cannot help myself from behaving in this foolish way now.”

“You aren’t being foolish. Why is it foolish to love and wish to be loved in return? That is human nature; it is what sets us beyond all other creatures.”

She smiled through her tears. “I am sorry to burden you with all my problems. Your life must have been blessedly uncomplicated before I came into it.”

“My life was decidedly dull, and you do not burden me at all, I promise you.” He hesitated. He wanted to put their friendship on a more intimate footing, but maybe that would be to force the pace…
.
“I
—I was thinking that it is unnecessarily formal for us to address each other by title when we know each other so well. I would dearly like to have the privilege of calling you by your first name.”

“My name is Laura.”

“I know.” He took his handkerchief and brushed the tears from her cheeks. “Never let Augustine Townsend or her ilk even begin to reach you again, Laura, for that way lies inevitable defeat.”

Neither of them heard the door on to the gallery open softly, and neither of them glanced up to see Augustine Townsend looking secretly down at them.

Laura spoke again. “I’m so glad that you have such a magical way with words, Daniel, for time and time again you give me strength. Thank you.” She reached up shyly to kiss his cheek, wanting to show by that small gesture how much she appreciated his friendship.

Augustine watched in delighted silence. She saw the desire written so plainly in Daniel’s dark eyes, and she saw too that the desire was not reciprocated, but that did not matter
—a plan stirred in Augustine’s cold, calculating heart. A rumor concerning Laura and the handsome, dashing doctor could only serve to drive a final wedge between Nicholas and his bride…. Stealthily, Augustine left the gallery, but she would have remained had she known what would be said next.

To hide the effect the kiss had upon him, Daniel changed the subject. “Everything has been put in hand with regard to our plan. You do not need to concern yourself at all, Charles and I have plotted everything most carefully. There is something else which now works to our advantage
—Augustine and her mother are also going to Taunton tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“One ponders how much of a coincidence
that
is.” He smiled a little. “However, it serves our purpose in that it removes the Townsend cats from the scene of the crime as well, particularly since Charles is of the opinion that the items which must be sold to meet the moneylender are in Miss Townsend’s possession.”

“What items?”

“Some of the Grenville jewelry. Oh, they are no longer fashionable pieces, and Miss Townsend doesn’t wear them, but the precious metals and stones are particularly fine and will fetch a good price. Rest assured that by selling them we do not do anything Nicholas would not do himself, for he told Charles that they must go.”

“But they are Miss Townsend’s.”

“No, they are simply in her possession
—in a secret cupboard in her room, I believe. They are a fortunate choice for another reason, for it is known that they will have a ready buyer in Flaxton’s, the fashionable Bath jeweler.” He smiled at her. “Everything has been thought of, Laura, all you need do is act your part in front of Nicholas.”

She nodded. “I pray only that I am up to it.”

“You are. Just think that by doing all this, elaborate as it may be, we are snatching Nicholas from the duns.”

“I will.”

“So, it is all set to commence the moment church is ended tomorrow, when the cats and the rat have departed for whatever it is in Taunton.” He raised her hand to his lips. “No more tears now, Laura.”

“No more tears.”

“That’s better.” His lips brushed her skin again, and then he released her fingers.

* * *

The hours of the May Eve night ticked slowly away, and Laura lay sleepless in her bed. She awaited the morning with great trepidation. What if the earl did not go to Taunton after all?
What if
—if—if—if
….
She closed her weary eyes, listening to the distant moaning of the wind in the trees. So much was to happen tomorrow. She must face Tobias Claverton’s congregation, the people and landowners of Langford and its surrounding district, people who would hold her in little esteem. She must obtain those jewels and then playact that it was a matter of little importance, when it was in truth of the greatest consequence. And her playacting must be convincing enough to fool Nicholas into believing her, for he must not be worried, especially not if Daniel was to operate in the evening. As if that was not enough, there was the operation itself, with all its attendant dangers and uncertainties….

There was a stealthy sound at her door and her eyes flew open as she distinctly heard something rustling. A cold fear touched her as she slowly sat up, staring across the shadowy room toward the door. Who was it? Why were they so furtive? Light footsteps receded and gradually silence returned. Her heart was still pounding as she slipped from the bed and went to the door. The passage was deserted and the house silent. Then something made her look down, and she saw the small branches of spring foliage lying there. Elder and walnut, their leaves barely unfurled.

Still shaking, she stooped to pick them up. The May birchers had left their condemning mark, the elder for dislike and unpopularity
—but what did the walnut signify? The unmistakable smell of the elder pricked her nostrils, but it was unpleasant now where once she had found it attractive. In her imagination she could hear those light footsteps again, and she knew to whom they belonged. This was not the work of the May birchers; it was the hand of Augustine Townsend.

Still holding the branches, she retreated into her room, closing the door. Then she hurried to the open window, thrusting the greenery out into the blackness of the moonless night. She did not hear them fall on the gravel drive far below.

Laura dressed slowly for church the next morning, hoping that by delaying her departure she would avoid encountering Augustine and her mother, who had already announced that they intended driving to Langford alone. Augustine had made a great fuss earlier about discovering a wonderfully complimentary bunch of greenery outside her door. Lime, hawthorn, and pear, she had cried delightedly, although her pleasure was dampened a little by Laura’s silence concerning her own leaves. That Augustine had placed the leaves outside her own door too, Laura had no doubt, and she wished now that she had had the forethought to find a twig of gorse to lay at Augustine’s door. Yes, that would have been a sweet revenge, for gorse would suggest that the occupant of the room was of doubtful character. However, she had not thought of it in time and Augustine’s spite had gone woefully unchallenged.

Kitty dressed her mistress in silence. The maid had discovered a telltale elder leaf by the window, and on looking out had seen the discarded branches far below. Elder and walnut. The maid said nothing, for she knew well enough the meaning of those particular trees. The elder condemned Laura, and the walnut proclaimed her a whore. Kitty’s hands shook, for she had that very morning heard from Betsy May Jenkins, Miss Townsend’s maid, the rumors about Lady Grenville and Dr. Tregarron. And it was true that they spent a lot of time together, and that they were very friendly, but Kitty did not believe that her mistress was unfaithful to Sir Nicholas, and she had firmly told Betsy May as much. Betsy May refused to speak to her now.

The rumor had not fallen on stony ground entirely, however, for there were many servants at King’s Cliff who had reason to fear that the changes planned for the estate would mean the loss of their livelihoods, and those servants had little reason to like Laura or to wish to protect her good name. Kitty had not worked for Laura for long, but in that short time she had come to love her sad, beautiful mistress, and it made the little maid unhappy to think that someone had been unkind enough to place those leaves at her door.

Laura’s thoughts at that moment were not of the leaves, however, for although they had not been forgotten, they were of secondary importance. Today was so very crucial, and the tasks to be accomplished and ordeals to be got through seemed legion. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She had chosen to wear the same clothes she had worn on leaving the Hotel Contarini, her caped lilac wool pelisse and green satin bonnet. On the first day of March she had commenced her visit to Venice, and on the first day of April she had left again. Now it was the first day of May, two months exactly since she had first met Nicholas Grenville. Oh, how very, very much had happened to her life in that short, fateful period. The guidebook lay before her on the dressing table, and she picked it up. The pressed flowers fell out and Kitty immediately retrieved them.

“How lovely they are, my lady.”

“Yes.”

“I know flowers, for my father is a gardener, but I don’t recognize these.”

“The red ones are anemones, the pink ones wild cyclamen.”

“Why have you kept them?”

Laura gazed at the flowers. “Sir Nicholas bought me a posy of the anemones in Venice, and the cyclamen I carried when I married him.”

Kitty glanced sadly at her before carefully replacing the flowers in the guidebook. Laura stood, picking up her prayerbook.

“Kitty, what is the meaning of walnut as far as May birchers are concerned?”

“I don’t really like to say, my lady.” Kitty flushed uncomfortably.

“Tell me, for I wish to know.”

“They are only left outside a woman’s door, my lady, and they accuse her of
—of being a harlot.”

Laura flinched. “I see.”