“And what did I do?” she asked Lance with a shaky laugh. “I dropped the blasted reticule with my pistol inside it and ran for my life. Lucky for me you came along when you did.”
And now she had to face Case—she was done with calling him Lord Castleton in the privacy of her own thoughts—and make a clean breast of things.
She thought about this for a long time. She supposed it was too much to ask that they remain friends. Something had happened between them that shouldn’t have been allowed to happen. Now, perhaps, he would understand.
Chapter 14
On reflection, Jane decided not to tell Lady Sophy about the attack. She didn’t want anyone to call in the authorities, or a doctor, or make a fuss, because she wanted Case to be the first to know, and she wanted him to hear it directly from her. So she swore Harper to secrecy, at least until she could speak to Case in person, then she washed the dirt from her hands and face and after dusting off her clothes, sallied forth as though she’d done nothing more dangerous than spend an interesting morning visiting a friend and doing a little shopping.
Evidently, she didn’t play her part very well, for the carriage had gone no farther than Hyde Park when Lady Sophy’s spate of chitchat faltered and finally died away.
After an interval of silence, her ladyship said, “Are you well, Jane?”
“Oh, quite well,” Jane hastened to reply.
“I ask because it seems to me that you’re not your usual self.”
Jane allowed that she was fighting off an incipient headache.
Lady Sophy nodded. “That would explain why you appear to be so . . . unsettled.”
She wasn’t unsettled so much as preoccupied, trying to imagine how Case would respond when she told him the truth about herself. It wasn’t a prospect she was looking forward to.
Her ladyship gave her attention to the passing scenery. “Have I ever told you about Caspar’s mother?” she asked.
“You’ve told me that she was vivacious and liked to shock society,” Jane answered, wondering where this conversation was leading.
“She was and she did,” Lady Sophy replied approvingly. “And we all loved her very much.” She gave Jane one of her Devere clear-eyed stares. “Her marriage to Caspar’s father rocked society and, I’m happy to say, it rocked my pompous brother as well. He was the duke then. Elizabeth wasn’t one of us, you see. That was my brother’s view. Her father was only a country squire, and that did not sit well with the duke. They married in spite of him. Of course, there was an estrangement between father and son. My brother never relented, not even after Caspar was born.”
“That’s sad,” said Jane, not knowing what else to say. It was an interesting story, but the question she was loath to ask was:
Why are you telling me this?
Lady Sophy answered her in the next breath. “Caspar’s father would never deal with his own children as his father dealt with him. I know he can appear intimidating, and I’m the first to admit that he is a little stuffy, but at heart, he really is a dear. All he wants for his children is for them to be happy, as he was happy with his Elizabeth. Look how he gave his blessing to Rosamund when she wanted to marry her Richard.”
There was no confusion now in Jane’s mind. She knew exactly what Lady Sophy was implying. She was much more direct than her ladyship. “There is nothing between your nephew and myself,” she said, then added belatedly, “except friendship.”
“Oh, Jane,” said her ladyship, and laughed. “Oh, Jane.”
Case recognized the Devere coach as it emerged from behind the stands of trees that bordered the small lake. A moment or two later, it rolled to a stop in front of the stately portico of Twickenham House. He was looking out an upstairs window, in the billiard room, and behind him were his friends Waldo, Robert, and Freddie. They’d been discussing the reunion that was just one week away.
“Less than a week,” said Robert Shay significantly.
Case was watching Harper open the coach door. His aunt stepped down first, then Jane with Lance right behind her. Jane conferred with Harper who nodded, and a moment or two later, having put a leash on Lance, he turned and made for the stable block with the dog trotting happily beside him. Satisfied, apparently, with the arrangements she’d made for Lance, Jane entered the house.
Case’s lips curved. The idea for the visit to Twickenham House had come from him. He wanted Jane to see that the Deveres did not live on a grand scale. They were ordinary people, more or less. He’d planned everything down to the last detail—the guest list, the menu, the informal party—to convince Jane that she could fit in without any awkwardness. In fact, she’d be an asset.
Of course, there was Castle Devere to consider, but that could wait. His father hadn’t taken his mother to Castle Devere until long after they were married. It was a point worth noting.
There was another reason for the reception, a more compelling reason. He wanted Piers to think that all was normal at Twickenham House, that nobody suspected anything. The last thing they wanted was to convey the impression that they were preparing for a siege.
“Did you hear me, Case?”
Case let the muslin drape fall and turned back to his companions. “Yes, I heard you, Robert.” He took a chair by the fire. “You think we should cancel the reunion and turn the investigation over to Special Branch and let them deal with it.”
“I do,” said Robert.
“And what will Special Branch do that we’re not doing?”
“They’ll undertake a massive investigation and ferret Piers out.”
“But we
have
ferreted him out. This is our best chance of getting him. He won’t scare off. He may go underground for a while, and when he surfaces again, we’ll be back at the beginning, not knowing where he intends to strike next.”
There was a long silence, then Freddie said, “Well, I’m not a soldier, but I think Piers would be a fool to attack Twickenham House, and he doesn’t sound like a fool to me. He’s bound to know it’s well guarded. Impregnable, in fact.”
Case sighed. “Freddie, it had better not be impregnable, or we’ll never catch Piers.”
“Oh. Yes. I see.”
Robert said, “You’re very quiet, Waldo. What do you think?”
Waldo was lounging against the billiard table. “I agree with Case. But that doesn’t make me complacent. As Freddie said, Piers is no fool. If plan A fails, he’ll switch to plan B. We should be prepared for anything.”
“What about the gold he stole?” asked Robert. “Where is it now?”
“It was never recovered,” answered Waldo.
“I think it was,” said Case. “Not by us, but by Piers. It’s probably sitting in some bank vault. He must be a very rich man.”
They fell silent when a footman entered with a fresh pot of coffee. “Just leave it on the table,” said Case.
When they had topped up their cups, Robert said, “Piers seems to be lying low right now.” He looked at Case. “Do you think he’s still playing games?”
“Playing games?” Case took a swallow of coffee. “That’s one way of putting it. The short answer is yes. I think he’s enjoying himself enormously. He’s taunting me, daring me to find him before he tires of the game. And so far, he’s winning. What’s worrisome is what he’ll try next.”
There was a profound silence, then Robert said, “Why does he hate you so much, Case?”
“I suppose,” said Case, “because I commanded the unit that wiped out his men. They refused to surrender, so there were no prisoners.”
Waldo added, “And Piers has never forgiven us for it.”
Robert nodded, but he was far from satisfied with their answer.
“And now, gentlemen,” said Case, “His Grace is waiting for us.”
Luncheon was served in the long gallery with its beautiful vista of the river Thames. Though there must have been about forty guests, the gallery could quite easily have accommodated three times that number. Long, damask-covered tables were laid out with platters of every kind of delicacy, and guests were encouraged to help themselves, picnic-style, then seat themselves at one of the smaller tables that were set out at intervals around the room.
“I think,” said Sally in an undertone to Jane, “that the informal manners are for Emily’s benefit, you know, to make her and her family feel more comfortable. If we sat down to eat in the dining room, the rules of precedence would apply and poor Emily would find herself at the wrong end of the table.”
“Next to me,” Jane replied dryly.
Her eyes searched the knots of guests until she found Emily. Once again, she was flirting outrageously, but Jane didn’t recognize any of the young men who were hovering around her.
It was, thought Jane, a most agreeable group of people. She already knew some of them, from the Ladies’ Library. All the same, she wasn’t enjoying herself, couldn’t enjoy herself. She was rehearsing in her mind what she would say to Case, how she would explain about Jack.
She’d made up her mind that she wasn’t going to apologize. She couldn’t change the past and she couldn’t change what she was. If she’d taken everyone into her confidence, Jack would have learned where she was, and that was the last thing she’d wanted.
No. She wasn’t going to apologize. She was proud of what she had done with her life these last several years.
Then why did she feel guilty?
Case wasn’t just anybody. He’d been a good friend to her. The best. That’s where she had made her mistake. She should have kept him at arm’s length.
But how did one keep the incoming tide at arm’s length?
As if on cue, Case and his father suddenly appeared at the glass entrance doors. There might as well have been a fanfare announcing their arrival, because the room instantly fell silent and everyone who was sitting got up.
Sally giggled. “So much for informality,” she whispered. “Poor Romsey. Poor Case. It’s not their fault if people treat them like royalty.”
Jane wondered about that. They made a striking pair, the duke and his son. Their resemblance was so close that no one could have mistaken the relationship. But it was the way they held themselves that made the deepest impression. Here were men who were sure of their place in the scheme of things.
Case said something to His Grace, whose face immediately broke into a pleasant smile. He threw up his hands. “Welcome to Twickenham House,” he said in a deep, booming voice. “We’re all here to enjoy ourselves, so no standing on ceremony. Carry on! Carry on!”
“And that’s an order,” whispered Sally.
It was an order no one seemed inclined to obey. People just stood there, darting uneasy glances at each other from the corners of their eyes, willing someone else to make the first move. Case stepped into the breach. He snapped his fingers and a small group of musicians in one corner of the gallery began to play. Then he led his father to a knot of people where they stayed to chat.
A collective sigh went up, and gradually people went back to doing what they’d been doing before the duke arrived. Jane kept a surreptitious eye on Case, but he was never alone, and the time never seemed right to approach him. He didn’t ignore her, though. She and Sally shared a table with Lady Octavia and her husband and Case stopped to speak to them, then he moved on, and coward that she was, she felt relieved. This wasn’t an interview she was looking forward to.
In fact, the thought of it filled her with dread.
After luncheon, the guests were free to wander over the house or bundle up and go outdoors for a brisk walk. A concert was planned for late in the afternoon, excerpts from Mozart’s
Don Giovanni,
to whet everyone’s appetite for the gala premiere in England that was to take place in March.
Jane wasn’t up to walking far, so she joined the group that Lady Sophy was taking round the conservatory. This was obviously Lady Sophy’s domain, for at every bank of exotic flowers, she went into minute detail on the cultivation and propagation of the species. After a while, Jane found herself yawning, so she dropped back and found a wooden bench where she could rest and meditate in silence.
When a shadow fell over her, she looked up. “Case,” she said, “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“Well, don’t look so fearful. I’m not going to bite you.”
He was studying her face, so she made an effort to smile. Gathering her courage, she finally said the words she was dreading saying. “We must talk. There is something particular I want to say to you.”
She made room for him on the bench. “What is it?” he asked her.
Two young women had stopped nearby when they saw Case, and were now examining the bark of a gnarled old palm tree as though it were gold-plated. This was not the time for confession.
“You have a beautiful home,” she said lightly.
Grinning, he picked up one of her hands and held it casually. There was nothing casual about her reaction. She stopped breathing.
“That doesn’t tell me much,” he said. “I want to know whether you like it or not.”
His boyish eagerness made her smile. “I don’t think I’ve been in a house I like more.”
“You haven’t seen the grounds yet. Get your coat and bonnet, and we’ll go for a drive.”
He held out his hand and helped her to rise. When they were out of earshot of the two inquisitive hoverers, she said quietly, “We must talk.”
He turned to face her. “I’m listening.”
“Not here. Somewhere—”
They were interrupted by a young man in a blue coat whose name Jane forgot as soon as it was mentioned. He wanted to ask Case about the reunion, and whether or not he’d remembered to invite another young man whose name Jane also forgot.
When his friend sauntered off, Case said, “You see how it is. I’m at everyone’s beck and call. Just for a little while, I want to please myself. I want to be with you, Jane.”
The tension in her neck spread to her spine. She had to stop this before it went too far. A vain hope! It had already gone too far and she had no one to blame but herself.
Someone else hailed Case and he said quickly, “Get your coat, and meet me at the front door. And be quick about it or we may never get away.”
She’d already made up her mind that this wasn’t the time or place to make a clean breast of things. Driving a curricle was too much of a distraction. She didn’t have his full attention. Better by far, she decided, to wait until they were away from Twickenham and all the duties that occupied him as host. She’d tell him when they got home to Woodlands. And if he didn’t go home to Woodlands with them, she’d invent some pretext to get him there.
Her logic was faultless, and it was all a lie. She shrank from saying the words that would change things forever between them.
He reined in his team when they came to the summit of the rise.
When she looked up at him, her heart cramped. Right from the beginning, she’d been prejudiced against him. Now that she knew him, she could see below the surface. There was more to him, far more, than good looks, a title, and wealth. He was proud, but he wasn’t conceited. He was generous to his friends, generous, open-minded, and as straight as an arrow. When he said something, he meant it.