She feared that Alec had not come to her because his sister and friend were here. He was ashamed of her, she decided, afraid that they would discover his affair. She told herself that it was not so dire, that he was only being a gentleman now that others were here; he did not want to harm her reputation. But she was well aware that he could walk down the empty hall in the middle of the night and enter her room unseen by anyone. Even if Myles or Genevieve did happen to see him, they would not remark on it. Such things took
place all the time; she had often heard of assignations at country houses where gentlemen tiptoed from their own beds to those of willing ladies.
Her heart squeezed within her chest. She could not bear to think of the possibility that Alec was embarrassed by her. That he might be done with her.
She got up and washed and rang for the maid, who brought her tea and toast, then bustled cheerfully about the room, opening the drapes and bringing Damaris’s dressing gown and slippers to her. “Isn’t it grand, having your own things to wear now?”
“Yes.” Damaris made herself smile as she put on the robe and sat down at the vanity for Gilly to brush her hair.
The girl picked up Damaris’s silver-backed brush and began to run it through her hair, carefully easing out the tangles sleep had put in it. “’Tis a lovely morning today, miss. The gentlemen went out early.”
“Oh, really? Where did they go?” Damaris struggled to keep any hint of disappointment out of her voice.
“Hunting, they said, miss. They took that great lummox Shadow with them, though, so they may not come back with anything. That dog’s more likely to frighten the birds away than find them.”
Damaris had to smile at the thought of the happy, foolish dog bounding about in the fields, barking at birds, though her heart sank, knowing that she would not see Alec this morning. She could not help but wonder how it had come about that he and Myles had decided to go out hunting. Had it been
Myles’s suggestion? Or was Alec avoiding her yet again, as he had last night?
On such dismal thoughts, Damaris dressed and went downstairs, unable to force down more than a piece of toast. She found Aunt Willa and Genevieve in the sitting room and passed the next hour with them in stilted conversation. Pleasant as Damaris found Aunt Willa, Genevieve’s cool, aloof manner left her feeling awkward and vaguely out of place. They passed the time exchanging pleasantries about the loveliness of the day and the history of the castle and the area.
It was a great relief when Willa departed for her usual long tramp through the countryside. Damaris was quick to excuse herself as well, declaring that she wished to read a bit in the garden. In the library, she pulled out a book at random and went outside. It was easier to breathe out here, she thought, strolling along the neatly ordered path, bordered on each side by roses. She walked through the leafy green arbor and down the steps into the lower garden.
A man suddenly stepped into the path a few yards in front of Damaris, startling her, and she jumped, her heart pounding. He stood in the shadow of the hedge, his face unclear, and Damaris’s thoughts went immediately to the men who had tried to abduct her. She thought of how far it was back to the house and whether she could reach the door before this man caught up with her. She began to back up, saying, “Who are you? What are you—”
She stopped as the man stepped out of the shadows into the sunlight. The color drained from her face.
“Why, Damaris, do you mean to tell me that you don’t recognize your husband?” he asked as he sauntered toward her. “How careless of you.”
Damaris stared at him, unable to move. “Barrett!”
He looked much the same despite the eleven years that had passed since the last time she saw him. It was the same thin, sensitively handsome face, the same dark hair, a lock falling in poetic disarray onto his forehead, the same melting brown eyes.
“But you—you are dead!”
“As you can see, I am very much alive.” He spread his hands out to his sides. “And I am also very much your husband.”
“Oh, my God.” Damaris’s knees went weak beneath her, and it was all she could do not to crumple to the ground. She sat down heavily on the nearest stone bench. Her brain was a jumble of thoughts and emotions, and overriding them all was one name: Alec! What would he do? What would he think?
“What happened?” Damaris asked. “Why did you not tell anyone you weren’t killed in that fire?” Suspicion crossed her features. “Did you plan it? Did you set fire to it yourself? You did it to hide from your creditors, didn’t you!”
He chuckled. “What dreadful things you accuse me of! I did not set the fire. I simply slipped away from the inn before dawn in order to avoid settling my accounts. But when I heard that I was believed dead, well, it suited me perfectly well. So much easier to start a new life when no one knows you’re still alive.”
Damaris’s lip curled in disgust. “Why are you here? Why
do you—” Her eyes widened, and she jumped to her feet. “It’s you! You are the one who sent those men after me! You tried to abduct me!”
He grimaced. “I could hardly allow you to start running about London, now, could I? It caused me no end of trouble, having to leave Lady Rawdon’s party early for fear you would see me. Obviously I couldn’t risk running into you somewhere else. One of us had to go, and I was not about to leave London myself.” His face darkened. “You always were the devil of a nuisance! Whatever possessed you to enter London society after all these years? I knew it would be the end of Dennis Stanley if you recognized me.”
“Dennis Stanley—oh! So that is your identity now? Very clever—taking on a last name of a highborn family, just as you did last time. Never actually claiming to be one of them, just passing it off modestly if someone asked outright, saying you were not an
important
member of the family.”
“Yes.” He ignored the bite in her tone, preening a little, as if she had complimented him. “It was inspired, I always thought.”
“You tried to kidnap me to keep me from recognizing you and revealing who you really were?”
“I could hardly let you ruin everything when I had the shy little bird right in my hand.” He held out his hand, cupped palm up, and snapped it closed. “The Engleton heiress was all but mine.”
“What did you plan to do? Kill me to keep me from talking? Hold me prisoner the rest of our lives?”
“I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t decide whether to take you out of the country and threaten you so you wouldn’t return or just keep you locked away somewhere for a few months until I could secure the silly chit. I thought of selling you to white slavers so you would disappear entirely but, alas, I did not know any.”
“You are a vile creature.” Damaris looked at him with contempt. “Is that why you are here? Do you mean to snatch me out of Rawdon’s garden? Knock me over the head and lock me up somewhere? You are a fool if you think you can go against the Earl of Rawdon. Alec will crack you like a nut.”
“His mistress’s husband? I think not.” Barrett’s smile was not reassuring. “You see, I thought about the matter more closely after those fools managed to lose you time and again. It was excessively annoying, but then I realized that perhaps it was all for the best. I wasn’t looking at it the right way. Why bother with that bacon-brained Eleanor Engleton when I already possessed an heiress? One, moreover, who is not plump as a pigeon and possessed of a fatuous giggle. It has been eleven years, after all, and I realized that you will soon come into your fortune. You’ll get it at age thirty, isn’t that right?”
“And, being my husband, you could get your hands on it.” Damaris narrowed her eyes.
He smiled. “I think a trip abroad would appeal, don’t you? We could go back to Italy, revisit the places where our romance blossomed.”
“You are mad if you think I would go anywhere with you.”
Damaris whipped around and started toward the house, but Barrett caught up with her, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her to a stop. “What are you doing?” Damaris tried to jerk her arm from his grasp. “Let go of me, or I shall scream. If you have any sense, you must know that Alec will tear you apart.”
“You forget, I have made a study of the wealthy and titled for some years now. I know very well who the Staffords are. I know that while they are a—how shall I put it—a vengeful lot, they are also unbearably proud. Arrogant, some say. And the Earl of Rawdon will not subject his family to scandal just for the sake of his bastard mistress.”
Damaris paled, and Barrett let out a chuckle.
“Ah, that hit home, did it not? We both know you are enticing enough for Rawdon to dally with, but not enough to ruin his good name for.”
“He will not let you take me,” Damaris said through gritted teeth. However little Alec might want a scandal, she was positive of that. “He may not want a scandal, but if you know the Staffords, you know that no one takes what is theirs. Castle Cleyre has fearsome dungeons, I have heard.”
She had the satisfaction of seeing her no-longer-dead husband flinch at hearing those words, but he recovered quickly, digging his fingers into her arm and giving her a shake.
“Then I guess I shall have to make sure you leave now before he comes back.” Barrett grinned at her expression. “Ah, you underestimated me. Not surprising, since you are accustomed to dealing with clunch-headed nobleman like Rawdon.
I know the earl is not here; he went out hunting with his friend and won’t be back for hours. Which gives you ample time to go back to your room, gather a few of your things, and come away with me. I have our horses waiting in the copse below.”
“I told you—I am not leaving with you!” Damaris jerked her arm back, and this time he released it, so that she stumbled back and came up hard against a tree, scraping her arm.
“Oh, I think you will. You see, if you do not come with me, I shall reveal to the world that you are my wife. It is uncommon, true, for a husband to apply to Parliament for an act of divorce, but I shall do it. On the grounds of adultery. I have a clear case against you and, of course, the earl. As the guilty party, Rawdon shall have to pay a tidy sum, but that will hardly compare to the scandal it will bring upon him and his family. No doubt his sister will find it a trifle difficult to make a suitable match with that stain on the family name. It won’t be as much money as I would get when you turn thirty, but then I would be quite free to marry again, with none of these worries about being found a bigamist. And it might just be worth it to see the Earl of Rawdon brought low.”
Rage rushed through Damaris, filling her until she thought she might explode. “You snake! You absolute, utter blackguard. Go away and leave Alec alone. I shall pay you to do so. I shall arrange with my trustees to fund you; they accede to my wishes now that I am older. And when I turn thirty I shall pay you more to stay out of our lives!”
“And allow my wife to continue to cuckold me with the fair-haired earl? I think not. Besides, I shall have full right to
all your money in two years. Why should I settle for only a part? No, the only way for you to make sure your precious lover survives his mistake of sleeping with you, without drowning in public humiliation, is for you to come away with me now, quickly and quietly. Go upstairs and pack. Oh, and leave him a short note explaining that you are ending your affair. We don’t want him following us, after all.”
“I cannot keep him from doing that.”
“He won’t stoop to chasing you if he thinks you are tired of him. Don’t beg him for help or imply that I am forcing you.”
“You
are
forcing me!”
“I am merely offering you a chance to let your lover escape the scandal. It will be all for naught if he chases us down and we have a very public brawl. And since I have no doubt that he would come out the victor in any such struggle, well, I would simply have to forestall that by shooting him as soon as he appears. No court would find me guilty of murder for shooting the man who was diddling my wife. On the other hand, if you tell him you are ending it, pride will not let him crawl after you.”
Damaris stared at him, numb with shock. “You would
murder
him? I would not have thought that even you were that low.”
“My dear girl, I have no desire to lose several of my teeth or have my jaw broken by that lovesick giant. I would shoot him in an instant.”
It was all Damaris could do not to fling herself at him, clawing and kicking. If she had had a gun in her hand, she would have fired it at him—indeed, she thought she would
have attacked him with a knife or stick or anything that was at hand. But she held not even her trusty hatpin, and the fury just burned through her, leaving her empty and shaking.
“I—I will be only a few minutes,” she said dully. “Wait for me here.”
Damaris turned and started back to the house. She felt numb, as if she were stuffed full of cotton batting. Her mind worked frantically, searching for some way, any way, out of this nightmare, but her thoughts skittered all around like leaves in the wind. She could not pin them down, could not think, for any thought was swept away by the cold, hard image of Alec lying dead on the floor.
She had no doubt that Barrett—or whoever he was now—would follow through on his threat to shoot Alec if Alec attacked him. Nor did she have any doubt that Alec would attack him if he believed the man had seized her or hurt her. The only way to keep that from happening was to do as Barrett had suggested. She must write Alec a simple note ending their affair in a cold, clear fashion. The only way to save him was to cut him to the quick.