Authors: Anne Ireland
“Dreadful. Quite dreadful,” Lady Longstanton said and gave a little shudder. Another long wisp of hair escaped to straggle down her neck. “But you are safe now you know. We shall take the greatest care of you, but for the moment, you must always take one of the grooms with you when you walk out. Paul will bring this wicked man to justice—unless he already has, of course?” Her eyes were bright with anticipation, hopeful of a quick end to the trouble.
“No. I had escaped from my captors before they had time to storm the house. Someone is watching the house in hopes of discovering who exactly is behind all this, and where they go. Paul wanted to settle with them at once, but Richard insisted that he should bring me home and leave him to watch.”
“How sensible of him,” Lady Longstanton approved. “Richard would be the gentleman who saw it all happen and acted swiftly to follow, I suppose? Geraldine was here earlier this morning, and she told us everything. It was a shocking thing to happen, my dear. Your cousin was most upset.”
“Yes, I am sure she would be. I must let her know I am safe.”
“I shall send word, Hester. Perhaps it will be best if she comes here to be with you, my dear. I am sure Paul will not be brought to part with you until this awful business is over. Indeed, I am not certain he can spare you at all.” She smiled at her. “I know it is not official as yet, but my son is an open book to me. You cannot imagine how delighted I am that he has found someone to love. He was away fighting for so many years that I sometimes despaired of him ever finding happiness. I suspected that it had happened when he returned from Bath, and he was like a wild thing when he thought you lost. Now that we have met, I completely understand why he loves you, Hester.”
Hester could not help being warmed by her hostess, who was charming and irresistible. She had enveloped Hester with a shawl of love, and it was so good to be fussed over like this. Hester felt her will to resist melting in the sun of Lady Longstanton’s smile. She knew that she must tell Paul the truth one day, but for the moment, all she wanted was to be a loved and respected member of this family.
They had reached one of what must surely be the best bedchambers. The pretty satinwood furniture and the soft colors of deep rose and pale pink that gave the room its feeling of comfort enchanted Hester. The bed was draped with a deep rose brocade, the cover of a paler silk, which was echoed in the window curtains. A small love seat covered in cream silk stood at the foot of the bed, and a dainty chair upholstered to match was set at an elegant writing desk near the window. There was a dressing chest, a cheval mirror, and various stools and occasional tables all adding charm to the whole.
“What a beautiful room!”
“Yes, it is lovely,” Lady Longstanton agreed. “I stayed here once for a few days before my wedding. It will be a part of your suite when you are Paul’s wife, my dear.” She smiled serenely, little guessing that she had sent Hester’s nerves spiralling. “Now, you will find everything you need just through there, Hester. Please make yourself comfortable. We dine in two hours, and a maid will bring you a fresh gown in an hour or so. Until then no one will disturb you.”
“Thank you,” Hester said feeling her throat close with emotion. “You are so kind to me.”
“Nonsense! I am mortified that you should have been treated so ill, my dear. We must try to spoil you a little to make it up to you. And now I shall leave you to rest.”
Hester sank onto the edge of the bed after her hostess had left. She was feeling tired, more so than she had imagined. It was perhaps the strain of the last few hours, for now that she was safe she had begun to realize what might have happened to her—and death was not the only or the worst of it.
She decided to undress, letting her gown fall to the floor as she crept into bed and covered herself. She was too tired to think about any of it at the moment. Closing her eyes, she fell into a sound sleep and did not stir when the maid came up to help her dress an hour later.
* * * *
Paul opened the bedroom door softly. There were two rooms between his own bedchamber and hers, and the thought of her lying here had drawn him as a moth to the flame. He stood looking down at her as she slept. She looked so peaceful and lovely that he smiled, wishing that he might wake her and take her into his arms and make love to her. However, that was a privilege of marriage. He would not dishonor the woman he loved, though his body burned for her. Of late, she had begun to haunt his dreams, waking him to a need that he had never felt so urgently before.
He controlled the leap of desire that surged through him as she sighed, flinging out a white arm. She would be his soon enough. He would be patient no matter the cost to him. She was his to love and honor for he had sensed her surrender when he kissed her and he could never let her go now. The past few hours and taught him the meaning of despair and he knew that to lose her was more than he could bear.
She had not yet told him her secret, but he believed that he might guess. She had given her heart as a young girl and had it broken. It was only natural that she should be careful about giving it again.
Hester stirred, murmuring something he could not quite catch as she flung her arm across the bed in a restless movement. For a moment, the temptation to hold her was overwhelming—but he resisted. He should not be here. If Hester woke and saw him, she would be shocked. He must leave before he gave into the urge to make love to her.
Hester woke to find her room in darkness save for the light coming through the window from a sky that had just begun to turn rose with the dawn. She yawned and stretched, a smile on her lips for her dreams had been pleasant, though with the morning she knew that they were impossible. She had dreamed that she was Paul’s wife, that he had woken her from sleep to make love to her, and that it had been the most wonderful feeling of her life.
She rose and went over to the window, pulling the curtains wider to allow the light to flood into her room. She was feeling much better for having had such a long, restful sleep and very hungry. Seeing the tray of food that had been brought up for her at some time while she was sleeping, she tasted a small biscuit, which was nutty and delicious, and then ate all the others, sipping the milk but setting it aside because it was tepid. She had broken the worst of her hunger and would manage now until breakfast.
Finding that a fresh gown had been laid out for her on the loveseat, she decided to wash and dress and go downstairs. She did not know whether it would be possible for her to ride, because she was not sure if Pippa was still at Geraldine’s home, and her habit was surely still there. In the wild flight from her captors, she had ridden in her walking gown, but that would not do now that she was the guest of Lord and Lady Longstanton.
But there was no harm in her going into the gardens for a little walk. She remembered that her hostess had requested that she take a groom whenever she went anywhere, but surely she must be safe enough if she stayed close to the house? She could hear sounds of movement within the house and thought that some of the servants must be stirring, which meant that the gardeners would be at work.
Indeed, when she went downstairs, she was greeted twice by maids, who nodded at her and wished her a good morning. A footman, who looked sleepy-eyed, opened the door for her, and she smiled at him as she went out into the cool air. As she had expected, gardeners were already at work on the rose beds, and they inclined their heads respectfully as she walked past. There was a look almost of appraisal in their eyes, and Hester had a feeling that already the servants were aware that she was expected to be Captain Crawford’s wife. It gave her an odd feeling inside, and she wondered what they would think of her when she turned him down, as she must eventually.
She stopped and bent to smell a lovely full-blown rose of a deep red color. It was delightful, and she thought that she would like to pick it and take it to her room, but could not do so, as she was a guest here.
“Would you like to pick it?” Paul’s voice behind her made her spin round. Her heart raced as she looked up at him. “I am sure the gardeners would not mind in the circumstances.”
“It smells lovely,” she said and smiled at him. “I am tempted, but it is not mine to pick.”
“It is mine, for I am the son and heir and may do as I please,” he said, a gleam of mischief in his eyes as he reached out and broke the stem. A thorn pricked his skin, bringing a tiny spot of blood to the surface. “Take care, Hester. It has taken it’s revenge on me, but I would not have it vent its spite on you.”
“I am so sorry,” she said and gave him a lace handkerchief. “Bind it with this. I fear it has been used to wipe a few tears, but as yet I do not have a fresh one.”
“It will be all the more precious if it bears your tears,” Paul said gallantly and bound his finger with it. “I believe your things will arrive today with your cousin, who has agreed to stay with us for a while—at least that is what I have from my mother, and she is usually right. Few ever oppose her, though she never raises her voice. You will learn that she is the sweetest lady, but somehow we all bow to her will. And she has decided that you and the countess are to be our guests for an indefinite period. Indeed, she speaks of writing to invite your mother to stay.”
“I wish she would not,” Hester said. It would spoil everything if her mother were to arrive too soon, for she would lose no time in making it clear that her daughter was not worthy of the honor she was being shown in this house. “Mama . . . would not wish to come, and she would probably demand that I go home at once.”
“You do not wish to go home?”
“No, of course not. I—I am looking forward to Geraldine’s dance.”
“Is there no other reason you would wish to stay here?” Paul’s blue eyes seemed to look deep into her heart. “Please tell me the truth, Hester, for I think you know that it is my intention to ask you to . . .”
Hester was gathering her courage as she prepared to tell him the truth when they heard the sound of hoof beats and then a horse and rider came galloping up to them. Some instinct made Hester step backward as Richard Mortimer dismounted and came towards them.
He glanced at her, concern in his face that she could not doubt was genuine, and inclined his head towards her. “I am glad to see you well, Miss Weston,” he said. “I have brought news that I think you may find interesting, Crawford.”
“Is it private or may I listen?” Hester asked. “And I am glad to see that you were not harmed, sir. I must thank you for your intervention on my behalf yesterday.”
“It was no more than any gentleman would do,” he replied, his dark eyes intent on her face. Hester blushed and looked away. “But what I have to say to Captain Crawford concerns the men who captured you. I knew one of them for it was he who paid me to approach the army—and you in particular, Crawford. That aspect of it had not struck me until today.”
“Did you see any sign of Henry Blackwater?”
“No, I do not think he was there. The house appeared to be empty apart from the men who took Miss Weston there, though there may be a couple of caretakers, I believe. I thought I would go to London when I leave here and make it my business to discover who owns the estate.”
“Yes, that might help us,” Paul agreed looking thoughtful. “I shall bear an open mind on what you told us, Hester. It seems incredible that Blackwater could be involved and yet anything is possible.”
Richard nodded in agreement. “I followed the others as far as an inn on the London Road, where they dispersed, but I overheard the man I had met before—his name is John Dune by the way, and he is a plausible rogue. Well, I heard him giving his bullyboys instructions to meet him at a certain inn in Blackfriars the day after tomorrow. I shall see what more I can learn of their intentions and return.”
“Thank you,” Paul said. He turned to Hester. “Why do you not go in now, my dearest? I have something to say to Viscount Mortimer that does not concern you.”
“Very well.” Hester obeyed him without demur, for she knew that she was but a small part of the business that had made these two men unlikely allies. She walked unhurriedly towards the house, unaware that two pairs of eyes watched her leave.
* * * *
Paul turned to Mortimer as soon as she was out of earshot, his brows raised. “Very well, now you may tell me what is on your mind, sir.”
“It has occurred to me that this business might be more personal to you than you realize, Crawford. It is true that you have made it plain that you intend to bring the traitor to justice and that alone would be enough to sign your death warrant—but have you a personal enemy? Anyone who wishes you ill? I did not at first remember that I was instructed to deal only with you in the matter of those cannon, but now it makes me wonder.”
“You mean the perpetrator thought to discredit me and that was his prime objective rather than to sow seeds of discord amongst our men?”
“I, too, thought that the objective when I first heard what had happened, and I was angry, because I realized that I had been used. I did try to tell you the truth, Crawford, but by the time I caught up with you, you had already decided that I was the traitor.”
“I was looking for proof, which I have so far been unable to find—because the owner of the foundry was murdered.”
“Yes, I drew a blank there too, but it is my intention to make John Dune talk, and this is what I did not wish Miss Weston to hear. I am not a particularly violent man, but I can find men who will do anything for money. Like you, I am determined that this rogue shall be brought to justice, whatever it takes. Your life is your own to risk as you will, but I believe Miss Weston may still be at risk. If by chance she was right and Blackwater was involved in this, he may put in an appearance to try and discover if she knows anything.”