Читать книгу The Regency Season Collection: Part Two - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 60
ОглавлениеThey had an early dinner and it was a simple affair, the leftover meats from the wedding breakfast and a bowl of fruit in season. Mrs Orchard, the housekeeper, had cut up the cake and arranged the pieces carefully on a plate. The same figurines from the wedding now twirled in the middle on their own revolving pedestal. An eternal embrace.
Her father was in a good mood, his appetite the best Amethyst had seen it for months as he helped himself to the food.
‘Your man showed me around the stables, Lord Montcliffe, and impressive it was, too. Who built them?’ The lilt in his voice was audible.
‘My great-grandfather. He was a firm believer in the philosophy that horses need a view to thrive so every stall looks across the lake.’
Robert began to laugh. ‘You will find Dunstan House to be nowhere near as attractive, though we can rebuild everything to imitate the style here if that is your wish.’
The conditions of their union came to the table with them, Amethyst thought, all present and accounted for, each one a reminder of the absence of what should have been. She wished her father might just leave it at that, but as he went on with the discussion any hopes sank.
‘The greys are to be brought up next week from London for I was certain you would want them back. Mr Tattersall has been at me for another chance to market them, but I said that he would have to wait in line for the progeny. He was most interested to know that you would be involved in a breeding programme, my lord, although I did tell him we would not be changing their names.’
‘Here’s to Maisie and Mick, then.’ Daniel raised his glass and laughed. ‘But don’t give them to me, give them to my wife.’
A strike of excitement flared inside Amethyst.
‘Very well, but on the condition that you will teach my daughter what you know about horses, my lord. She has always been an avid rider, but we have never had the time for more.’
He turned to her. ‘Is this something you wish for?’
‘It is.’ She hoped her father would not notice the expression that she was sure would be in her eyes as she helped herself to a slice of cake.
Indifference was getting harder. The ring glinted against the light, its purple depths lending a richness to the gold and the wine she’d had was making her relax.
Her husband’s voice was soft as her father spoke with Julia McBeth on the other side of the table. ‘You would like to try your hand with the horses, then? Be warned, though, for the work can be hard.’
He gestured for a servant to refill her glass.
‘I have a few mounts of my own in London which I will have brought up. Nowhere near as many as I used to have, but still...’
‘Enough to start.’
He smiled and looked at her and the feeling that was hidden in her heart swelled to bursting, though loud footsteps just outside the chamber took their attention.
When a young girl hurried in Daniel stood and the newcomer threw herself into his arms, her long dark hair loose and her eyes overflowing with tears.
‘Andrew Howard...is hurt and...I have...lost Caroline completely.’ Her breath was ragged and fast as though she had been running for a long while.
Daniel looked more than taken aback. ‘What are you doing here, Gwen? Where is Mama?’
Gwen. His sister? His arms were still about her, though she grabbed his hand now and began to pull him from the room.
‘Andrew is outside...I think your man is helping him from the carriage, but Caroline...is at an inn about five miles back.’
‘A shabby sort of two-storey building with a large fireplace outside?’ When she nodded he asked a further question. ‘Why were you there?’
‘We were coming to see you as we were worried about you,’ the girl wailed. ‘Mama forbade us to make the journey to Montcliffe, but Andrew managed to procure a carriage and we came anyway. Caroline needed to stop for...’ She left the rest unsaid as she carried on. ‘Andrew said he would be our guard...and now he is hurt. Badly I think, because there is a lot of blood and it is all our fault.’
Daniel was already striding outside and everyone followed him. Lucien’s younger brother lay on the ground with a blanket over his shoulders, the butler kneeling across him.
‘He is in need of a doctor, my lord.’ The servant looked worried. His sister simply tipped her head back and wailed, a loud and awful noise that filled all the space around her.
‘Stop it.’ Daniel gave her no quarter and surprise made her cease. Already he was lifting the boy in his arms and bringing him inside, shouting orders for one of his staff to ride to find the doctor and to another to make ready a bed. Blood dripped across his dress jacket and soaked the bright white fabric of his shirt.
Once the boy was lying on a sofa, Daniel took a blanket from the chair and ripped it into long bandages, fastening them tightly above the injury. The rate of bleeding slowed as he ordered his butler to exert pressure on the offending thigh.
Mrs Orchard had brought through hot water and towels and another pile of quilts, one of which she proceeded to wrap Daniel’s crying sister in. Gwendolyn’s continued sobbing was obviously getting on everyone’s nerves, so Amethyst led the girl to a chair and sat her down.
‘When did you last see your sister?’
She could tell Daniel was listening though his attention was still on the injured boy.
‘An...hour back. But there...were people there and they were drunk and I could not find her. Andrew was in a fight. The man hit him with a metal pole, I think, and there was so much blood. I knew Montcliffe was close so I helped him into the carriage and brought him here.’
She had begun to shake quite badly, the shock of it all settling in.
‘You did well and he already looks better.’
The paleness of Andrew’s face was alarming, but he had begun to shiver less violently and accept small sips of sweet hot tea. Daniel moved away.
‘Keep them both warm, Mrs Orchard, and give them each some brandy. I am going to find Caroline.’
Amethyst stood. ‘I would like to come, too. I am a good rider and you might need a woman to help with your sister.’
Uncertainty flickered across his face, but the situation was too dire to lose any more time in trying to persuade her to stay back.
‘Very well. Meet me in the stables in ten minutes. I won’t wait longer.’
* * *
They rode through the growing dusk at speed, the sound of his horse’s hooves matching the beat of hers. He was astonished at her prowess.
If his sister was hurt in any way... He shook away the thought and drew in his reins, waiting as Amethyst Cameron came in beside him. Nay, Amethyst Montcliffe now.
‘That is the roof of the inn there.’ He tipped his head to listen, music coming from the same direction.
‘It’s a good sign, I think. If they were hurting your sister, they wouldn’t sing.’
He almost smiled, but didn’t. Rape followed few rules. My God, he had seen that time and time again in Spain when the whole campaign had fallen to pieces, and the baser nature of men had come to the fore.
‘Stay here and mind the horses. If anyone comes, scream as loud as you can and I will hear you.’
‘No.’ A knife was in her hand, wicked, sharp and ready. ‘I can help you.’
‘You know how to use it?’
‘With proficiency.’
The look in her eyes didn’t brook argument. Taking the reins of both horses, he fastened them to a branch. ‘Stay behind me, then, and if I say run, you run. Understand?’
Gesturing her assent, she stepped back, the darkness of the riding clothes she had changed into blending with the shadow and reminding him of some of the women in Spain who had marched to the call of the drum and followed their men into battle. Brave and surprising. He liked having her there, a point of reference in the darkness and another pair of watchful eyes.
If anyone had hurt his sister, he would deal with them without a backward glance, he swore that he would. The anger in him shivered over disbelief.
The singing men were outside, gathered around a table and drinking. One was old enough to be his grandfather and the other two looked to be so drunk they would be no threat to anyone save themselves. Motioning to Amethyst, he skirted around a line of trees which brought them up to the front door of the inn. A few patrons were drinking at the bar, but there was no sign of any problem. When a faint noise from above caught his attention, he surged up the stairs and into a room at one end of the passageway.
Caroline was in a corner, crouched down with a broken bottle held out in front of her and her dress ripped down one arm. Three young men were trying to coax her out, their method of doing so bringing a shout from Daniel’s throat and filling the room with fury.
A poker sat in one of their hands, the ashes from a fire scattered about their feet. When he looked at his sister again he saw the angry mark of a burn on the bare skin of her upper arm.
The perfect certainty he had always felt in battle suddenly claimed him and he moved forward.
* * *
Daniel exploded into action without warning. In less than a minute three men lay at his feet, with barely a noise, hardly a movement. Amethyst had never seen someone fight like that before, the grace of his fury unwinding into a lethal force, the strength of his fists and body simply obliterating any resistance.
Tenderness took over as he brought his sister into his arms, checking her for other injuries and holding her as she shook violently without making a sound.
‘You are safe, Caroline. We are here to take you home. Did they hurt you elsewhere?’
‘No. They asked me to have a drink with them. I know I should not have said yes, but I couldn’t find Gwen or Andrew and so I agreed. They brought me upstairs and I knew then...’ She couldn’t go on and her brother bent to lift her into his arms.
‘Tell me if anyone so much as looks at us, Amethyst.’ He made no effort to keep his voice down as he retraced his steps.
Finally they walked out through the front door and into the evening, the soldier in her husband so very clearly seen. No one spoke. No one touched them. No one moved in the stillness of the oncoming night, save them.
Then the horses were before them, whickering at their presence. Amethyst held her knife ready until they were mounted. Daniel threw his cloak around his sister and wrapped her in tight.
‘Get on your horse, Amethyst.’
She did it in one quick movement and he tipped his head, gesturing a direction as he spoke.
‘They won’t follow.’ The strength in the Earl’s voice was comforting. His hair in the oncoming darkness had fallen loose and lay across his shoulders and he had collected a bruise on his cheek from one flying fist. He had never looked more beautiful to her or more distant.
* * *
Much later Daniel called her to his library. Each of the injured young people had been seen to by the doctor and sent to bed and all were expected to have made a good recovery by the morning. Her father had long since retired, but Amethyst had stayed in the downstairs salon reading just to make sure that there was no more trouble.
The Earl was standing at the window as she walked in. He had changed his clothes and now wore a shirt and a loose cravat. His jacket was draped across a chair nearby and he held a drink in his hand.
‘Can I offer you something?’
Amethyst shook her head.
‘Will you sit for a moment?’
He motioned to two chairs positioned before the fireplace. The grate held the warmth of low embers.
‘Caroline was lucky. The doctor said the burn on her arm was superficial and he has dressed and wrapped it. Her fearfulness may take a little longer to recover from, of course, and I doubt she will be venturing anywhere on her own in the foreseeable future. But there is nothing...that she can’t recover from.’
‘What about Andrew Howard? How is he faring?’
‘A little worse. He has a substantial wound on his leg and a large bruise on the back of his head. I have sent word to Lucien who will come to look him over, no doubt.’
‘And your mother?’
‘Has been informed of the happenings. Unfortunately, I suppose she will also descend upon us.’ Drawing a hand through his hair, he continued speaking after a few seconds of silence. ‘She is a woman whom life has disappointed and as such goes to great pains to make sure others feel the same way.’
‘So she won’t like me?’
‘Probably not.’ He didn’t mince the words and for that she was grateful. ‘But she does not like me much, either, so we should be about even.’
Shocked, Amethyst looked straight at him. ‘But you are her son.’
‘She hated my father with a vengeance and I suppose I remind her of him.’
‘And Nigel didn’t.’
‘He was more persuadable and usually did exactly as she wanted. I was less biddable, but families are complicated things and I have long since ceased trying to understand mine.’
Amethyst waited as he took a drink. The bruise on his cheek had swollen and was threatening to close up his right eye.
‘Where did you learn to wield a knife?’
Shocked by his directness, she was mute.
‘Every other woman of my acquaintance would not know how a blade fits within their fist. But you do. Why?’
She wanted to tell him, she did. She wanted to spit out all the horror of her first marriage in one unbroken line of thought, but this was neither the time nor the place. Not yet. She needed to get to know him better first.
‘The docks are dangerous and I was often there at night.’
She didn’t know if he believed her or not as he leant forward.
‘You surprised me, Amethyst, and that is something not many people have managed to do before. Do you carry your blade now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Could I see it?’
With only a little hesitation she brought the leather sheath from a deep pocket and laid it on the table between them. To keep a knife on her person in the safety of his home must alert him to some of the things she would rather keep hidden. She also knew that she no longer wished to lie to him.
Picking up the scabbard, he extracted the knife, the multiple grooves on the handle which allowed a better grip taking his attention.
‘A double-edged stiletto blade and well balanced, too. Does your father know you carry it?’
She shook her head. ‘It would only worry him.’
At that he laughed. ‘I am your husband and it worries me. But for now we will leave it at that. I have a request that you might be able to help me with over the next few days. Both of my sisters are...in need of some backbone, for they whine too much and they think too little. Their journey up to Montcliffe today surprised me, however, and made me think there still is a chance to rescue them from my mother’s influence, if you like. The thing is, Amethyst, I want them to be more like you.’
‘Like me?’
‘Stronger. More certain. They have taken on my mother’s propensity to complain about nothing and it is wearisome and unattractive. Perhaps with a little coaching and some hours spent in your company they might see the value in pursuing a different path, a braver direction.’
‘Should I take this as a compliment, my lord?’ Amazement gave Amethyst’s words a quiet lilt. ‘Most gentlemen of the ton want docile wives who think only of the things your sisters are probably fond of.’
‘Which is why most marriages in high society are shams.’
Despite everything she laughed. My God, she could never have had this conversation with Gerald, not in a million years.
‘And what exactly is our marriage then, my lord, if not a sham?’
The gleam in his pale eyes strengthened. ‘You tell me, Lady Montcliffe.’ Finishing the last of his drink, he placed it on the table before standing and drawing her up to him, only the smallest of spaces left between them. ‘I would also like to thank you for your help today.’
‘Thank me?’ Every part of her body was squeezed into a breathless waiting.
‘It is our wedding night, after all, and even a marriage of convenience should mark the occasion in some way.’
His fingers stroked the sensitive skin on the back of her neck as he looked at her, the gold threads in his eyes easy to see at such a close distance. ‘There are secrets on your face that you might one day tell me and I have my own as well. But right now, here, in this room, there is only the vestige of a difficult evening behind us and the hope of a better day before us. Perhaps we could find it in us to celebrate at least that?’
‘How?’ She was wary.
‘Like this.’
His lips came down across her own with care. He did not force or cajole, he merely waited to see what it was she would do.
A choice, melded with words of thanks and gratitude, a dark night outside and a warmth within. If he had demanded more she might have left, but he did not. The touch of his tongue against her mouth, only asking, and his hand resting lightly against the small of her back.
She did not know what happened between them when they touched, but the same feelings as before rose within her, a longing, an affinity, the woman in her whom Gerald had never discovered pressing forward into the hard edge of his passion, two people melded together in a raw and utter need.
How long had she waited for just this thrall, no rational thought or logic. Her hands went on their own accord to rest on the muscles of his shoulders. Hers. To hold and have. For ever.
But he could not love her back.
The pain of loss rose unexpectedly, spilling into her like ruined wine and making her draw away. She saw need flint in his eyes before distance covered it, the lover swallowed by the soldier as he let her go.
One foot, then two, and although the silence between them screamed with questions she was not brave enough to answer. Yet.
* * *
She looked broken and small. He had noticed this thinness from time to time, but tonight it worried him more, her eyes huge in her face, the shadows beneath them dark.
There was something she was not telling him, the shape of it lingering in fear, her breath forcing panic down to a place where she could manage it. If anyone could understand such things, it was him. He tried to set her at ease.
‘I like kissing you.’
Her blush was expected, but her tears were not. He had never seen a woman cry on a compliment before. She wiped them away with the back of her sleeve, hurriedly, as if she had no time for such emotion.
‘My father has had the first of the money transferred into your account, Lord Wylde. It should go some way in helping with...’ She stopped and breathed out hard, as if she had said too much and did not wish for what would come next.
‘With the agreements. Just that?’
She nodded and he felt something shift inside him. Amethyst had been hurt and badly. By Whitely in all likelihood, the husband she had been married to for sixteen months. If she couldn’t talk about it, he would ask Robert Cameron privately about the man tomorrow.
A log dropped in the fire and a shower of sparks lit the grate. Home and hearth.
‘I want you to know that I would not have married you just for the money.’ He dredged up the rest. ‘I married you because I liked you.’
This time her smile was real, no pretence in it or anger.
‘And perhaps I like you back, Lord Montcliffe.’
‘A good start then?’
She nodded and in her eyes was the swell of decision. ‘Gerald Whitely was not the man I thought him to be and my mistakes have made me wary.’
He could see what this admission had cost her by the quickened blood pulsing at her throat.
‘He came to us as a clerk who was recommended by a friend of my father’s. Papa liked him at first, but then he tried to dissuade me from taking the relationship further. I wanted love in a marriage and permanence.’
‘But you did not get it?’
‘No.’ The violent loss in her eyes darkened them, so that they were almost black in the shadows of the room. There could be no mistaking the hatred lurking at the edges, either.
What the hell had Whitely done to her?
‘At La Corunna I realised fate could be cheated because I should have died there with a bullet through my thigh and the blood running out of me in a stream, but I didn’t. Ever since I have been of the opinion that we each have the choice to worry about what has come before or to forget it.’
A frown marred her brow. ‘What of the pain in your leg—does that allow you to forget?’
Her intent told him the question was important and so he took his time in answering.
‘Sometimes it does not. In the cold of winter, on the dance floor, after a ride of some distance, at these times I remember. But here with you, in a warm room and on my wedding night, it ceases to demand a constant attention and so the ache itself is lessened.’ He stopped for a moment, considering his words. ‘You are safe here, Amethyst. I would not ask from you anything you did not wish to give. At least be assured of that.’
Her half-smile wound about the corners of his heart. ‘Gerald said that to me, too, and I was foolish enough to believe it.’
And then she was gone, turning for the door and running, the skirt of her riding outfit swishing as she went.
* * *
She sat as still as she could and listened. To her heartbeat, to her breathing, to the small sound of her hand as it moved against the silk counterpane.
For so long she had felt...sad. Her father had known of it, but he didn’t understand the truth of why. Nobody did. Yet tonight with Daniel Wylde in a room of books and honesty something had changed, some hard part of guilt, leaving room instead for the fluid movement of truth.
She had told him some of it. Just a little, but enough. He could make of it what he would. She knew he had seen the hatred for Gerald in her eyes that could not be hidden, though she wondered about the shame. Had that remained concealed? She hoped so.
Standing, Amethyst walked across to the full-length mirror and simply looked at herself. Against the dark riding clothes her hair caught the light from the candle in a way that surprised her. She almost looked pretty. She had not thought that of herself before, but tonight she did. Perhaps that came from Daniel’s kiss. For so long she had been this other woman, frightened by life and lost in her work.
Joyless. Her father had said that about her when he had insisted on this marriage and all its agreements. ‘You used to be happier, Amy. You used to know how to laugh. Now you seem only joyless.’
‘Gerald.’
She whispered the name into the night. He had taken that part of her that believed in love and possibility and twisted all she had been into who she was now. Daniel had told her the past was gone and could not creep into the present unless you let it. She liked that about him.
‘I am enough,’ she said, suddenly surprised by how fervently she meant it. ‘And my husband enjoys kissing me.’
A power, that, given without the knowledge of what had been taken from her. She held on to his words with hope.
A noise in the room next to hers alerted her to the fact that he had come up to bed and she crossed to the doorway so that she might better hear his movements.
Her eyes went to the key on her side of the portal. If she turned it so that it was unlocked, would he take that as an invitation and come in so that they might talk more? Clasping her fingers tightly together in case she should actually go ahead and do it, Amethyst waited till any noise stilled and then she crept most quietly to her own bed.
* * *
The early part of the next morning brought Daniel’s sister Gwendolyn into her room, the girl’s face uncertain and contrite.
‘I hope this is not an intrusion, Lady Montcliffe, but I was wondering if you might have a moment to speak with me?’
Amethyst put down the book she was reading and gestured to a chair beside her. Gwendolyn’s dress had been cleaned and pressed, a small tear in the fullness of her skirt artfully repaired.
‘I have come to say thank you for your help yesterday in recovering Caroline.’
‘You are most welcome.’ Amethyst knew there was more to come by the look of intrigue on the younger girl’s face.
‘Caro said that you wielded a knife. She said that you knew how to use it, too. She told me I was not to tell anyone at all about such a fact and especially not our mother, but...’ She stopped and looked uncertain about how to proceed.
‘You have questions?’
‘Mama is always telling us that we should be docile and sweet and that embroidery and tapestry and reading are the kind of things a husband will be looking for in a marriage. But our brother has been pursued by women for years and years and he did not choose someone like that at all...’ The rambling came to a stop as the girl realised what she was saying.
Amethyst picked her words carefully. ‘Our marriage might have been a little different from others, Gwendolyn, but I would say to you to be honest to yourself. Be the person you wish to become and follow the interests you want to pursue. Only then will you find a husband who will truly suit you.’
‘I love riding and horses and if I could I would live in the country. Mama and Caroline are more interested in gowns and boots and bonnets.’ She hesitated before carrying on. ‘Are things like fashion and hairstyles important to you, Lady Montcliffe?’
Despite herself Amethyst laughed. ‘Not especially. I have only ever had a few gowns at a time and my hair is much too short to do a lot with. From what I can see society seems to dedicate a great amount of time to what one looks like, but I was always too busy helping my father balance books and sourcing timber to care.’
‘But you are rich? Richer than anyone else we know?’ Gwen’s blue eyes flashed fiercely. ‘Mama says you come from trade, but it seems to me that you know a lot more than I ever will. You are free to learn things, different things, and in the end you still get to marry an Earl.’
Amethyst did not know whether to tell her of the nature of their union, but then decided against it, choosing to let Daniel’s sister see the possibilities before her and not the problems.
‘If you would like to come up to Montcliffe Manor to stay with us for a while, you would be most welcome. We could ride together and you could show me the places you liked as a girl when you were here.’
A heavy frown settled across the young brow.
‘We did not come here much because Mama never enjoyed it and after Papa died in a riding accident my mother never wanted to stay at Montcliffe Manor.’
‘Then we will find new memories, Gwendolyn.’
‘Gwen. All my true friends call me Gwen.’
Amethyst smiled. My God, could it be just this easy to fit in? Could the women of the ton be exactly like those from the other parts of society; some difficult, some judgemental and others only searching for their way in life? Like Gwen was.
The pathway into the future suddenly did not look so impossible. Amethyst liked Christine Howard and now she understood Daniel’s younger sister better, too. How many friends did one truly need?
Reaching over, she took the girl’s hand in her own. ‘You will find all the things that you need to, Gwen, I promise, and if there is anything that Daniel and I could help you with you have only to ask.’
‘Could you teach me how to wield a knife?’ The query came back quickly.
‘Absolutely.’ There were no qualms at all in her answer.
* * *
Lucien Howard was at the lunch table when Amethyst came down, as was Daniel, her father and Julia McBeth. Today her husband wore all black, the darkness of his clothes making him look even more dangerous than he normally did.
‘I hear felicitations are in order, Lady Montcliffe. Pity I was not invited.’ Lucien’s voice held a good deal of humour within it.
Daniel’s didn’t. ‘Lucien has come to pick up his brother.’
‘I see. How does Andrew fare this morning?’
Lord Ross shrugged. ‘He should be down joining us any second. From his recounting of the tale he was the hero of the hour.’
The subject of their musings arrived just as he finished the sentence.
‘Who are you saying was the hero of the hour, Luce?’ Today a black bruise on Andrew’s chin had darkened and he used a crutch to walk.
‘You are, Drew.’
Daniel supplied that and his tone sounded grateful. ‘If you had not insisted on accompanying my sisters on their foolish journey from London, God knows what else could have happened.’
Charmingly the boy blushed and Amethyst looked away at her father who was in conversation with Julia. The widow brought out the best in Robert and she was glad to see his plate piled high. A new sort of contentment began to fill the empty corners of the past and she caught Daniel’s eyes upon her before looking away. The right one had swelled up even further in the night, making him look dissolute.
She wanted to kiss him again, she wanted him to hold her against his warmth and never let go. Her ridiculous heart was beating faster than it normally did just on that one small glance and when she lifted her fork she saw her hand shake.
‘You seem flustered this morning, my dear. Perhaps it is the lingering effects of yesterday’s adventure?’ Robert remarked.
‘Perhaps.’ When her father smiled in that particular way her heart sank. She had never been a good liar, that was the trouble. She had never been one of those people who could conceal everything behind an implacable mask.
Like her husband.
‘It seems we will be at Montcliffe longer than we had anticipated, but I must say that the area is growing on me. The rolling hills and the greenness and the peace of it all.’ Papa was effusive in his praise and Julia laughed.
‘Everybody says that after a few days’ residence. I could never understand why the Lady Wylde did not come here more often. If it were mine, I should never leave it.’
‘But you live here now, do you not?’ Papa sounded more than interested.
‘Only for another few weeks. I will be travelling north to stay with my sister after that.’
Again Amethyst saw a look on her father’s face that made her puzzled, but she could dwell on it no longer as the door opened and a well-dressed woman she had never seen before stood before Daniel, a look of utter disdain upon her beautiful face.
‘I have come to take your sisters home, Daniel,’ she said, her voice imperious and harsh. ‘I also presume that this woman’s presence here means that this foolish alliance of yours has already taken place much against my wishes.’ Her disdainful glance swept over Amethyst without the slightest degree of interest.
‘Indeed it has, Mother,’ the Earl replied frostily as he stood. ‘This is my wife, Lady Amethyst Montcliffe, and her father, Mr Robert Cameron. I think you know all of the rest.’
‘I do.’ Lady Montcliffe made no attempt at niceties whatsoever.
‘If you would wait in the library, I will come to you directly, Mother, for there are a few things I need to tell you. Gwendolyn and Caroline shall be readied to leave presently.’
But the newcomer was going nowhere. ‘Is that you, Andrew Howard? Was it you who put this nonsense into the girls’ heads and led them on to a merry goose trail that could have ended in such tragedy?’
The bravado on Andrew’s face wilted, though it seemed Lord Montcliffe had had enough of his mother’s poor manners as he took her by the arm and shepherded her from the room.
‘Daniel’s mother was always a difficult woman,’ Lucien offered into the silence. ‘And his father was little better. Daniel would come and stay with my family most holidays and, looking back, I cannot even remember one where he went home. Nigel came too, sometimes, but he was melancholic and nervous.’
‘When he died I didn’t feel surprised, really.’ Andrew spoke up now. ‘Mama used to say that he was not long for this world, remember?’
Lucien took up the tale now. ‘Well, Daniel looked after him as best he could, but sometimes even he lost his patience and that’s saying something. Nigel was in London when he got home from La Corunna. Daniel had a fever and a leg that looked like it might be septic and he’d lost so much weight from dysentery that the doctors thought he wouldn’t make it, yet Nigel only talked incessantly about his own problems. Daniel yelled at him to go away and come back when he was in a better mood, but Nigel was killed in a hunting accident two days later here at Montcliffe.’
‘And Daniel blamed himself?’
Her words fell into the silence and Lucien looked at her quizzically.
‘I think he did. He seldom spoke of his brother afterwards.’
Glancing around at Julia, Amethyst saw her worried blue eyes were swimming in tears.
* * *
Lucien walked into the library late in the afternoon as Daniel was tidying up the deeds from the minister and filing them into the family bible. A marriage of convenience this might be, but it would be recorded in posterity as real. Daniel was glad for that. After yesterday he understood his bride was not the trembling sort of girl that was so predominant in society. No, Amethyst Amelia knew how to wield a knife and ride a horse with the best of them.
Lucien looked more than concerned. ‘Could I speak to you, Daniel, in confidence?
The serious tone of his oldest friend alerted him to the fact that something was wrong. ‘Of course. Is Andrew—?’
He didn’t finish as Lucien broke in. ‘After the fracas at the Herringworth ball I took it upon myself to look further into the death of Mr Gerald Whitely and there are things I think you should know.’
Closing the cover of the family bible, Daniel sat down.
‘What things?’
‘He spent an inordinate amount of time at the Grey Street brothel and word has it that he...he liked to play rough.’
‘Damn.’
‘My thoughts exactly.’
‘Define rough.’
‘He gave several of the women there black eyes and split lips. Worse if anyone ever mentioned his...affliction.’
‘Affliction?’
‘He had had some sort of accident to the groin as a child. I don’t know what damage it caused.’
Lord. Had Amethyst ever been hurt by him? he wondered.
Lucien wasn’t finished. ‘Perhaps Miss Cameron failed to tell you of the relationship between them because it was so terrible. Not lying exactly, just a bending of the truth. She never kept the bastard’s surname because...’ He tailed off.
‘Because he was a bully. Because she was glad he was dead.’ Daniel finished the thought for him.
Amethyst with her knife in hand and the ability to use it well. Had she learnt because she had had to? Because she’d had a husband who had taken his anger out on her?
His eyes went to the clock. Too late to try and find out the truth tonight. Yet would she want him to confront her with it tomorrow? His wife was proud, independent and capable and her marriage to Gerald Whitely must be something she would have liked to have forgotten about altogether. He needed her to tell him of it, on her own terms and in her own time.
As a confidant, not an interrogator.
If he picked his moment and had patience she would come to understand that she could trust him.
Finishing his drink, Daniel poured himself another and indicated to Lucien to join him.
