Читать книгу The Complete Regency Surrender Collection - Энни Берроуз, Louise Allen - Страница 24

Chapter Fourteen

It was nearly a week since they had moved to the old manor and life could not have been better. Justine had grown so used to behaving as a wife to Will that it no longer felt like play acting. She loved the shared meals and the quiet evenings with lacework and novels. She especially loved what happened after, when she retired to her husband’s room. Even if they did nothing more than sleep in each other’s arms, there was a warmth more cosy than the fire in the drawing room and a peace stronger than she’d ever known.

All the same, Justine tempered her excitement at the arrival of her sister with a very real fear. Suppose Mr Montague learned of her plan and put a stop to it? She had been able to avoid him thus far. Three days’ steady rain had made walks in the woods impossible. She had persuaded Will to send a carriage to meet the coach in Cardiff, thus avoiding a chance meeting between Margot and their guardian at the local inn. But there were still so many things that might go wrong.

Suppose, once she arrived, Margot blurted out the truth, or asked embarrassing questions that could not be answered. She had shielded the poor girl from her sordid relationship with their guardian. Margot thought of him as nothing more than a rather silly older man. As such, she did not know why she needed protection. There was nothing more dangerous than not knowing of the risk.

Now that the day of Margot’s arrival had come, Justine was pacing the floor of the morning room, staring out the window for the approaching carriage. ‘You need not worry,’ Will said, taking her hands in his and kissing them. ‘I have persuaded Adam to send the barouche. The ride will be comfortable and the driver will take utmost care.’

Justine smiled at the thought. Margot must have started in disbelief at the sight of the Bellston crest on the door and the liveried servants calling her Miss de Bryun with a bow, eager to be of service. Even if it was only an illusion, it would be a memory that she could share with her children, should she have any. The chances she might marry and have those children would increase once she was safely out of the clutches of Montague.

* * *

At last, she heard the distant jingle of harnesses through the open window, and the approach of the carriage, the calls of the coachman and the butler at the door, ready to welcome the new guest. She hurried to the hall and pushed past him so she could be at the foot of the carriage steps when her sister alighted.

For a moment, Margot was framed in the open door of the carriage above her. Then she took the few steps to the ground as if in a daze, staring up at the house in front of her. Before she could say a word, Justine rushed forward and enfolded her in her arms.

For a moment, she forgot everything but how good it was to see Margot again. It had been too long since they had been together and even longer since they had been able to speak freely. Before they could do that, it would be longer still. But for now, it felt as if their troubles were over. She whispered in hurried French in the girl’s ear, ‘Guard your tongue, Margot. The situation is complicated. I will explain everything soon. For now, all you must know is that I am Lord Felkirk’s wife and this is my home.’

‘For now?’ Her sister whispered the two words back, then let it pass, allowing Justine to take her arm and lead her into the house. She stared up at the high ceiling and wide stone stairs that had been part of the original castle. ‘Your home? C’est magnifique.’

‘It is,’ agreed Justine, in a whisper.

‘It is your home as well, my dear.’ William had arrived in the hall in just in time to hear the compliment to the house he held so dear. He stepped forward to offer his hand to her. ‘Introductions are in order, I think.’ He looked expectantly at Justine and flashed a disarming smile to show that his formality was little more than a jest.

It gave her a strange thrill of pride to see Margot’s reaction to her dear William. At his worst, when he’d been wasting away in the sickbed, Justine had thought him tragically handsome. But today, he must have requested Stewart to take extra care with his dressing so that he might make a good impression on their guest. He was turned out in a coat of midnight-blue superfine and the snowy-white cravat made his hair look as dark as a raven’s wing in comparison. The walking stick he had chosen was not the common wood staff he’d been using around the house, but ebony chased with silver and topped with a polished ivory knob. She was sure that she had never seen him look better. In fact, she doubted there was a more handsome man in all of London. And by the dazzled look in Margot’s eyes, her sister thought the same. ‘Lord William Felkirk, may I present my sister, Miss Margot de Bryun,’ she said, smiling back at him.

Will made a very proper bow in response to Margot’s awed curtsy. Then he gestured into the house. ‘No need to linger in the doorway, my dear. Come in and be comfortable. Would you care for refreshment? Are you in need of rest? There is a room prepared for you. There will be one in our London home as well. Once you are settled, we will send for the rest of your things.’

‘My things?’ Apparently, it had not occurred to her that the visit might be permanent. ‘I must go back to school,’ she said to Justine in a half-whisper. ‘Mr—’

Justine rushed to cut off mention of their guardian and his wishes on the matter. ‘Now that I am married, I would prefer that you stayed here with us.’

‘At the very least, you must consider a school nearer to us,’ Will added. ‘Your sister pines for you, when you are not nearby. And I would not see her unhappy, even for a moment.’ Then he gave his most winning smile, using his good looks to charm the girl into agreement.

It appeared he had made a conquest, for Margot’s eyes widened in surprise, and gave a confused nod of assent, Mr Montague all but forgotten. ‘You are too kind, my lord.’

‘William, please,’ he said. ‘Or Will. You are my family now, just as Justine is. She will show you your room and give you a tour of the house. Then, perhaps, we shall have tea in the garden. Tonight we will dine with the duke and duchess, who are most eager to meet you.’

Justine needn’t have worried about the girl blurting secrets. Margot was already stunned nearly to silence. But the casual announcement that they would be dining with a peer reduced her to mute shock.

‘Come, Margot,’ Justine said, tugging on her hand to propel her towards the stairs. ‘Let me show you to your room. We have much to talk about, for it has been ages since last we saw each other.’

‘We certainly do,’ Margot agreed, staring back over her shoulder at her new brother-in-law, as they mounted the stairs.

Once they were alone in her room, Margot sat down on the bed, giving one satisfied bounce on the soft mattress before looking at her with curiosity, waiting for her to speak.

Justine sank down beside her, unsure of where to begin.

Margot held out her hands as though expecting the explanation to drop into them. ‘Do you mean to tell me the meaning of this, or do you leave me to guess? And do not think you can lie to me over this, Justine. At least not any more than you already have.’

Justine recoiled in shock from the accusation. ‘When have I ever lied to you?’

‘When have you ever told me the truth?’ Margot answered. ‘You hardly speak to me at all, if speaking is what I can call the sparse letters you send to me in Canterbury.’

‘The shop has been busy,’ she said, trying to evade the truth. ‘There has not been time to write much.’

‘If it is busy, then I should be there with you, helping,’ Margot replied. ‘And then we might speak whenever we wished.’

‘A shop is no place for an impressionable young woman,’ Justine said firmly.

Margot scoffed. ‘It is a jewellery shop, not an alehouse. And you have been working in it since you were two years younger than I am now.’

Justine felt a moment’s revulsion at the true nature of her duties. At seventeen, she had been more naïve than Margot was now, and fallen easily into the trap Montague had set for her. Then repeated what she said each time Margot argued for a return to Bath. ‘Perhaps, when you have completed your education...’

‘I have more than enough education to take my place in a family business,’ her sister said. ‘I am older than most of the girls at the school and have learned all that they can teach me. Everyone remarks on the way I remain there between terms, as if I have no family at all.’ The girl’s face clouded and she appeared on the verge of tears. ‘Whatever I have done to earn this rejection from you, I am sorry for it. I will prove I have learned my lesson, if you will but let me come home.’

‘Do not think that,’ Justine said hurriedly, putting an arm around the girl. ‘It is nothing you have done. I have done what I have done to protect you.’

‘But why do I need protection? Why must I remain in school, so far away from you? Can you not at least tell me that?’

At this, she hugged Margot close and felt tears wetting the shoulder of her gown. She had hidden so much, in an attempt to keep her sister pure. What could she reveal now that would calm her fears? ‘Do not cry, little one. Our separation is at an end. You will live here, now, with Lord Felkirk and myself. It was never my desire that we be apart. The situation in Bath was...complicated.’

Margot lifted her head and rolled her eyes. ‘If this is over you and Mr Montague, I know of it already.’

Justine shrank back, horrified.

Margot smiled at her. ‘I have seen the way he looks at you, Justine. And I have seen him kiss you, when you both think I am not nearby.’

‘You know?’ She could not understand the whole truth, or she would not speak so casually of her sister’s disgrace.

‘Of course. It is quite plain that he has a tendre for you. He must wish to wed you, even though that is not at all proper for a guardian.’ She frowned. ‘Since you have been of age for years, and I have heard no announcement of engagement, I assumed that you were not similarly interested. But that does not explain why you married another so suddenly. And why did you not tell me of it immediately?’ Margot’s tears had dried. But it was clear that she was still deeply hurt by the sudden turn of fortune.

Justine smoothed her sister’s hair and kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘I am sorry I did not tell you immediately. But my dear, the situation is so much more complicated than you think.’

The ever-pragmatic Margot pulled away and cocked her head to the side, as though considering. ‘I fail to see why. I assume you kept me in the dark because you have not told Mr Montague of the marriage. Since you are of age already, you can do what you wish without his permission. Do not mind his tender heart, if your happiness lies with another. Simply demand your inheritance and go. If you wish, I will return to Bath and explain for you.’

‘No,’ Justine said hurriedly. ‘You must not. I have not told you before because I am not actually married to Will.’

Margot’s jaw dropped. ‘You are his mistress?’

‘No. That is not it either.’ And how was she to explain the rest of it? ‘There was an accident,’ she said. ‘Lord Felkirk was injured and I was responsible. He remembers nothing of our meeting, or what happened after. I brought him here and told his family we were married.’

At this, Margot laughed. ‘How did you come to meet the man in the first place, much less cause an accident?’

‘This next will be difficult to explain. When Father died...’ Justine took her sister’s hand ‘...he was here, Margot. On the road that runs just past this house. Lord Felkirk was the one who found him. He sought me out in Bath, claiming that he found the diamonds. But then...there was an accident.’

Margot withdrew her hand. ‘And you are only pretending to be married to him so that you can find the stones.’

‘They are ours, Margot. We have but to find them. If we sell them, we shall have more than enough money to last a lifetime. We need not go back to Bath at all.’

The girl looked more disappointed by this revelation than she had at any of the others. ‘We have more than enough money now, Justine. Is not half the jewellery shop rightly ours?’

‘Well, yes,’ she admitted. ‘But it is not the same as money in the purse. Mr Montague—’

‘Mr Montague has managed both halves for years,’ Margot interrupted. ‘As long as it is profitable, I see no reason he cannot continue to do so. You may not approve of it, dear sister, but when I am old enough, I mean to help him there. You might tell me that it is improper to do so, but I know just as much about gems as you and am ever so much better at maths than I am at lacemaking.’

It was a future that Justine had not bothered to imagine. Once Margot was safely of age, Montague might cease to threaten the girl’s innocence and allow her to marry. But if she insisted on returning to her old home, she would be walking into a trap. The only way to escape him would be to sell the business and start again.

‘If Father knew what had become of us, he would not wish us to remain in partnership with Mr Montague,’ she said, as gently as possible. ‘He would want us to find the diamonds and take them as our real inheritance. Or perhaps appeal to the Duke of Bellston for help. If he wished you to continue in business, Father would rather have seen you with a shop of your own than beholden to Mr Montague.’

Her sister sighed and took her hand. ‘Justine, it has been twenty years. You still talk of finding justice for Father and regaining what was once ours. It has earned you nothing but trouble. This wild scheme of pretending to be Lord Felkirk’s wife is proof of that.’

‘I had my reasons,’ Justine said, trying not to let her frustration show.

Margot shook her head. ‘I cannot understand what they could possibly be. But I know you must let go of this quest for lost family treasure. Perhaps it is because you can remember Father and our old life in Belgium. But I cannot. He was dead before I was born, Justine. Mother died when I was still young. I have known nothing but England and school, and Mr Montague. And difficult though he is, he is not such a bad man.’

‘He is evil, Margot,’ Justine said, unable to contain the truth. ‘I cannot go back to him. And I will not allow you to do so, either.’

‘I fail to see how you can stop me,’ Margot said, in a reasonable tone. ‘In a year, I will be old enough to make my own decisions on the matter. My own mistakes as well.’ She gave her sister an arch look. ‘But whatever I do, I suspect it will not end with me in a false marriage to a stranger. How you can manage to stay out of the man’s bed is beyond me.’ She paused and then said in a worried voice, ‘Lord Felkirk is a most handsome man, of course. And kind as well. But I trust that you have not stooped so low as to give up your honour to convince him that you are his wife. If Mother were alive, she’d have told you that virtue is more precious than the diamonds you are searching for.’

‘Lord Felkirk has been ill. He is still very weak.’ Hopefully, this was enough of an answer to set Margot’s suspicions to rest. But it left Justine sickened by her own lies.

‘Good,’ her sister said with a relieved sigh. ‘I would not want to know if you thought so little of yourself that you would seek a man’s protection for expediency’s sake. All the same, it is obvious that the man dotes on you. Tell him the truth as quickly as possible. It is likely he will forgive all and marry you, then you will have nothing to worry about.’ She smiled and added, ‘Only then will I come to live with you, at least until I am of age. It is much nicer here than at school.’ She gave another little bounce on the mattress and ran her hand over the painted silk of the coverlet.

‘I will do as you wish, when I am able,’ Justine said, with a sigh. ‘But it is not time for the whole truth. At least, not just yet. Until then, you must keep my secret. Can you do that?’

Margot sighed and fell back on to the bed, staring up at the ceiling, as though she’d had quite enough of her sister, her worries and her complicated problems. ‘Of course I will. But do not wait too long, sister. For Lord Felkirk’s sake, you must be honest.’

* * *

That night, a dinner was held to honour the visitor at the duke’s manor. If Margot had been impressed by the luxury of Will’s house, she was truly dazzled by an invitation from the handsome duke and his plainspoken, bespectacled duchess. Justine hoped that they were not imposing in some way. Bellston was quiet this evening, offering a warm greeting to his brother and a somewhat more reserved welcome to both Margot and Justine.

But Penny was as gracious and affectionate as ever, anxious to make Miss de Bryun feel welcome. She complimented her on her education, quizzing her in Greek and Latin, and declaring her quite proficient for a girl of such few years.

At this, Daphne Colton rolled her eyes. ‘Such skills will leave you permanently on the shelf, if you display them in London, Miss de Bryun. But since you are as perfect as your sister, we will take care not to let that happen.’ She reached down the table to touch the girl’s cheek and turning her head from side to side, admiring her profile. ‘If you were turned out in the latest fashion, there would be none to compare to you. We must take you shopping.’

Penny laughed. ‘Even I know that there are no suitable shops within miles of here.’

‘There are in London,’ Daphne said. ‘It is quiet there, now. But surely Bond Street would welcome commerce.’ She glanced at Justine. ‘Have plans been made for a Season for her? She is very nearly of age, is she not? It is rather old to be making a come out, but if she is sponsored by a duchess, I should not think it too late. Now that Will is doing so much better, we might all go south for a week or two.’

Margot shot a surprised look in her direction, unsure how to respond to such a generous offer.

London was the last place Justine wanted to be. It would be dangerous to call attention to the fact that Margot was not in Canterbury, as Montague expected her to be. ‘I do not think that would be possible. The expense...’

Daphne gave a wave of her hand. ‘It is miniscule, compared to what she will gain by a good marriage. Will has the blunt for it, I am sure. It would be a shame for such a pretty girl to remain a spinster, don’t you think, Penn?’

‘I do not think we are entitled to an opinion on the matter, without speaking to Miss de Bryun,’ the duchess said with a smile, turning to the girl. ‘Perhaps she has more important goals.’

Margot blinked, still surprised that the conversation had turned to her. ‘I do not think I should mind being married,’ she said cautiously, ‘if the gentleman is as kind as Lord Felkirk.’ She shot a quick glance at her sister that made Justine feel, had she been close enough to reach, she would have received a sisterly kick on the shin. ‘But my plan for some time has been to manage a jewellery shop.’

Justine stopped her fork, halfway to her mouth. Of all the subjects she had warned Margot to avoid, had she remembered that this one was most important?

‘Sometimes, I think my wife would like that as well,’ Tim Colton replied with a sigh. ‘She would have me buy out the jewellers, on each trip to town. What she means to do with it all, I am not sure. She has but one neck, after all.’

Margot opened her mouth, ready to correct the misunderstanding. But before she could say more, Daphne let out a short, merry laugh. ‘Then we must make sure that your husband is both kind and willing to spoil you as mine does.’

As she spoke, Justine at last caught her sister’s eyes, and gave her a desperate look that warned her to silence. Then she gave a flourish of her own hand, to indicate the ring Will had given her. ‘A single, perfect gift is more than enough to please me.’ She gave a nod to her smiling husband and accepted the approving comments of the ladies at the table that it was, indeed, a most lovely ring.

Only the duke was silent, his eyes speculative, his lips set in a straight, inflexible line.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when Will called for the carriage. He’d have been happy to stay some hours more, partnering his sister-in-law at whist, while Justine sat in the corner with Penny and her lacework. But it was clear that Miss de Bryun was close to dozing over her cards, probably tired from the long journey to Wales.

When he went into the hall to find the butler, his brother followed him. The duke’s steps on the marble tile were sharp, almost military in cadence as he hurried to catch him. ‘A moment, Will. I need a word before you go.’

Will turned and waited. His brother had been behaving strangely all evening. Perhaps now he would learn the reason for it.

Adam glanced back at the open door to the salon where Justine and her sister were taking leave of their hostess. Then he said, sotto voce, ‘There has been a discovery that concerns the time you were missing from us. Tomorrow I will come for you, in the carriage. Tell any who ask...’ He paused as though searching his mind for a likely lie. ‘Tell them we are going to purchase a horse. But until tomorrow, be cautious.’

‘In what way?’ What risk could there be in a short ride to his own home and a night in bed?

The ladies were coming into the hall to join them and Adam gave no answer but a warning shake of his head. Then he turned to his guests. To an outsider, there would be nothing unusual in his behaviour. His Grace, the Duke of Bellston, was ever a genial host.

But Will had known him for a lifetime and recognised the mood for what it was. Adam was playing a role, just as he did when playing politics in London. His true feelings, whatever they might be, were buried so deep that Will would not know them until the morning.