Candace Camp (13 page)

Eleanor wanted to say that there would be little enough left for the girl after Honoria had run through it, but she kept a firm rein on her tongue. However hard it would be, she was going to have to deal with this woman until Samantha reached her majority. She said calmly, “Edmund wanted to make sure that his sister would have an independence. So that she would not have to marry where she did not want or—”

“It is you!” Honoria turned on Eleanor, flinging out her hand to point at her as if she were a witch calling down a curse. “You talked him into this. I know my Edmund would not have thought of this on his own. You convinced him. And oh, how you must be reveling in this—doling out my money in little dribs and drabs, forcing me to cut corners. No doubt we shall have to go to tallow candles now, Samantha. Wax will be too dear.”

Goaded, Eleanor opened her mouth to deliver a sharp set-down, but Lord Neale spoke first, cutting through his sister’s histrionics. “Enough, Honoria. That is nonsense, and you know it. This is a reasonable sum for operating your household. More than fair, really. You will have plenty for wax candles and everything else you require.”

His words shut Honoria up, though she cast him a fulminating glare that clearly labeled him a traitor in her eyes. Eleanor seized the opportunity to draw the meeting to an end, closing her ledger book and picking up the will.

“I think we are finished here,” she said. “If you have any questions, please write to me, and I will answer them. And if there are any large purchases you need to make, please let me know, and I will adjust the allowance accordingly.”

One look at Lady Honoria’s mutinous face and Eleanor was certain that she would be receiving far more missives from the woman than she cared to deal with. She turned toward Samantha, who popped up from her seat and came forward impulsively, holding out her hands. Eleanor took them with a smile.

“I do hope that you will come to visit me in London sometime,” she told the girl, adding politely to Lady Honoria, “And you, too, of course, my lady. The season has started.”

“And you hope that I will be your entrée into the
ton?
” Honoria asked acidly. “There is little hope of that, I assure you. If I wish to visit the City, I presume that I am still received at my brother’s home.” She turned toward Lord Neale a little questioningly.

“Mama!” Samantha gasped, shocked at her mother’s rudeness.

“I think you have said enough, Honoria,” Anthony told her brusquely.

Color flared in Eleanor’s cheeks, and her hands curled into fists, but she kept a firm grip on her temper, saying, “I assure you, Lady Honoria, that was not my intent. Frankly, I care not whether I ever attend a party made up of a group of people who are invited only because of the happenstance of their birth. I am far more interested in people who have done something of value, or who have something intelligent to say. As for whether you visit me, you are right in assuming that I have little interest in your company. However, Edmund entrusted me with Samantha’s care, and I intend to fulfill that trust. I will be a part of her life. If you do not care to allow her to visit me in London, then I will, of course, come to visit her here. You might consider whether you will enjoy my renting a house here and coming to stay in it periodically.”

She paused, noting from the look of horror on the other woman’s face that her words had sunk in. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must be going. I wish to get back to London this afternoon.”

Eleanor stood up, giving a smile to Samantha and bidding her farewell. Then she nodded to Lady Honoria and turned to give a quick nod to the two men. As her eyes fell on Anthony’s face, it occurred to her that when she walked out the door, she might very well never see him again. A sharp pain shot through her at the thought, and she quickly turned away.

“Allow me to walk you to your carriage,” Anthony said, rising and coming toward her.

Eleanor shook her head sharply as she picked up her materials. “I shall be perfectly all right. Mr. Paradella will help me.”

Anthony stopped, his jaw tightening. “Of course.”

Eleanor turned, not letting herself look at Anthony again. It was for the best, she told herself. The man held her in the utmost contempt; that had been clear from the start, and what he had done last night had only confirmed it. Being around him was dangerous, at least to her, and she was not the foolish sort of woman who rushed into danger.

She walked out the door and hurried down the hall, leaving him behind.

A
NTHONY STOOD
, looking after Eleanor’s retreating figure until long after she had disappeared. He wanted to hurry after her, to catch up with her and explain.

But explain what? he asked himself sarcastically. Why he had acted like a cad the evening before? Why he had lost his head and kissed her and caressed her as he had sworn to himself he would not do? Or why, when he realized what he was doing, had he brought it to an end in the worst way possible, offending her and doubtless making her hate him?

Explaining, he knew, would be impossible. He could not even explain it to himself. For some reason, he seemed to lose all sense whenever he was around Eleanor. He was governed by some strange turmoil of desires and feelings that he scarcely realized were there until they burst out of him. He wanted her in a way he had never wanted any other woman, and no matter how foolish or wrong it was of him, he could not seem to make himself stop. As always after being with her, Anthony felt twisted into knots.

“Well!” Honoria exclaimed, coming up behind him. “I am sure she must enjoy holding the whip over her betters. If she thinks that she can make me foist her upon the
ton…
”

“Honoria, stop!” Anthony grated out. “Pray do not make a bigger fool of yourself than you already have.”

His sister’s mouth dropped open, and she stared at him in astonishment. “Anthony! How can you speak so to me?” Tears began to well in her blue eyes.

“Please, do not turn into a watering pot, either. I think it is clear that Lady Eleanor is not interested in rubbing shoulders with the
ton.
”

“You think she meant what she said?” Honoria asked with a shrill little laugh. “Really, Anthony, men are so easily misled by a well-turned ankle and a pretty face.”

“It has nothing to do with that. The fact is that as soon as she married Edmund, she could have gotten into the
ton.
”

“Not among those who count,” Honoria protested with a haughty sniff.

Her brother quirked a quizzical eyebrow. “Come, Honoria, you are not silly, however much you may like to appear so. The Scarbrough name would have gotten her far enough. But she did not go to parties. She did not even stay in London.”

“Of course not. She wanted to get him away from me. She wanted to keep him from everyone he knew and loved.”

“She took him there for his health. All the rest is nonsense that you have made up.”

“She has worked her spell on you, as well!” Honoria exclaimed. “She has turned you against me.”

She burst into tears. Anthony let out a sigh and cast a helpless look toward his niece. Samantha went to her mother and put her arm around her shoulders.

“Mama, I am sure that Uncle Anthony has not turned against you,” Samantha told her soothingly.

“Of course not,” Anthony snapped. “All I am saying is that I think you and I misjudged the woman. I don’t think she will mishandle Samantha’s money. Look at how well she did with Edmund’s funds. She added to them. Clearly she did not take anything from him.”

Sir Malcolm let out a bark of laughter, and Anthony and Honoria turned toward him, startled. He looked at them, then said, “Do you mean to say that you thought she was after Edmund’s fortune?”

“Of course,” Honoria replied indignantly. “A nobody from America maneuvers Edmund into marrying her—what else would she be after?”

“I have no idea about that,” Sir Malcolm answered dryly. “But I doubt that it was for money.” He sent Anthony a disbelieving look. “Really, Neale, did you not check into the woman’s background when she married Edmund?”

Anthony stiffened. “I did not.”

He did not add that he had been so certain that a woman of her beauty had married Edmund only for his money that he had not even made a move to investigate her. Indeed, he realized as he thought about it, he had been reluctant to learn anything more about her, a fact that had not struck him as odd until just this moment.

“Well, I haven’t your gentlemanly reticence,” Sir Malcolm told him with some sarcasm. “I did not relish the thought of losing any portion of my inheritance to an adventuress, so I set my solicitor on it. As it happens, she is an heiress. Her father made a fortune in the States, and when he died, she inherited it all. And increased it a good bit over the years, I might add. She is worth a great deal more than Edmund ever was. As much as you, I imagine.”

He had completely misjudged her.

Anthony’s mind reeled at the thought. It was no wonder that Eleanor hated him. She must have found him to be the very epitome of a British snob, judging her without knowing her at all. Thinking back on it, he could not but wonder at the way he had approached her. Why had he not asked her about herself? Why had he asked no one else about her? He had relied on his sister’s judgment, which was something he never did. He had been hasty, and blind to the truth. None of that was like him—or so he would have said before this.

“Uncle Anthony?” Samantha’s concerned voice cut through his dazed thoughts. “Are you feeling ill?”

“What? Oh. No. That is, I am just thinking.” He looked over at his sister, whose tears had dried and who was also looking at him in a puzzled fashion. “I must take my leave. Honoria. Sir Malcolm. There is—I have pressing business back at the Hall.”

With an abrupt nod, he turned and strode out of the house, calling for his horse. There was no pressing business, of course. The truth was that he simply wanted to be alone. He had to think.

Anthony mounted his horse and turned him toward home, his mind galloping along at a much faster pace. If he was honest—and he usually was, even to a ruthless degree—he knew that it had been Eleanor’s beauty that had sent him stumbling down the wrong path. He had assumed she was after Edmund’s money because when he first saw her, his heart had dropped to his feet. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he had wanted her fiercely.

And that beauty, he had told himself, meant that she was an adventuress, a woman like Viveca, who had taken his father’s heart and turned his mind against Anthony…who had tried to seduce Anthony into betraying his father. He couldn’t believe that this woman, whose beauty took his breath away, could truly love the quiet, gentle Edmund.

Or perhaps he simply had not wanted to believe that Eleanor was in love with Edmund.

The thought brought him up short. He had to wonder if what he had told himself for the past year was true. Had he simply been close minded? Had he actually been jealous? Or had it been something even deeper, more basic?

No, he would not follow that thought.

What he should be thinking of, he told himself, was not the past, but the problems at hand. The first problem, of course, was that Eleanor now hated him—and rightfully so. He doubted that she would even receive him. The second problem was that someone had broken into her room twice, looking for something. Assuming that she was an adventuress, Anthony had also assumed that these break-ins had had something to do with her undoubtedly nefarious past. He had also taken for granted that she knew who the culprit was and what he was after, that she just had not wanted to reveal the answers to him because they painted her in a bad light. She would eventually give the person what he wanted, and the matter would end.

But if she was not an adventuress but a woman of wealth, then in all probability her past had not involved anything nefarious at all. The thefts must be for some other reason altogether, which made them all the more alarming. She was probably telling the truth, that she had no idea what the intruder wanted…unless it was the simple locket containing Edmund’s portrait, which seemed absurd.

This line of reasoning led him to the inescapable presumption that the intruder would return to Eleanor’s house. And having been thwarted twice already, it seemed likely that he might take a more aggressive course of action. The next time, he might attack Eleanor herself.

Anthony kicked his horse into a gallop, his course of action determined. He had to return to London.

“I
AM WORRIED
about you, Eleanor,” Dario said soon after they left Tedlow Park.

Eleanor, her thoughts elsewhere, turned toward him distractedly. “What?”

“This man, this intruder—I do not like this.”

“Well, I did not care for it, either, I assure you.”

“What could he have been after? A locket? It seems not valuable enough to break into a house to get. No?”

“No, it doesn’t. You are right. It would have little value to anyone but me,” Eleanor agreed.

“And to break into a house two times to get it?”

“We don’t know that this was the same person,” she pointed out.

Dario cast her a dubious look. She shrugged.

“All right, I admit it. It seems very unlikely that the two events are not connected. But it makes no sense.”

“You have no idea what he wants?”

“None whatsoever.” Eleanor shook her head in puzzlement. “I mean, I have some valuable jewelry, but I don’t keep it in my room. It is in the safe. And I would think any thief worth his salt would realize that.”

“It is very puzzling.” He paused, then went on. “I want you to come back to Italy with me.”

“What?” Eleanor stared at him in surprise.

“These dangerous things have happened. It is not safe for you here. You should come back home.”

“But Italy is not my home,” Eleanor pointed out gently.

“It could be,” he replied earnestly and reached out and took her hand. “Eleanor…”

Eleanor had the uneasy feeling that he was about to wax romantic. She pulled her hand away, saying firmly, “England is where I have to be. Edmund entrusted me with his sister’s future. Not just the money. He wanted me to keep it safe for her, but I feel that he wanted me to help her, to guide her, as well. I cannot do that from afar. I have to be here in England. Besides, what is to say that whoever is doing this would not follow me to Italy?”

“I could protect you there,” he answered. “You could live at my parents’ villa. We would set up guards.”

“No, Dario.” Eleanor smiled, but shook her head. “I cannot do that.”

“I feared you would say that. So…I must do what I can to protect you here.”

“Thank you. That is most kind of you. But I doubt that I am in any danger.”

“How can you say that? After what has happened?”

“I was not hurt either time,” Eleanor reminded him. “I was not even in the house the first time. And last night, he offered me no harm. He was across the room, rummaging through my things.”

“But you do not know what might have happened if you had not awakened and screamed. You were alone and vulnerable. And you are a very attractive woman.”

“Dario…what are you saying? That he might have attacked me?”

“There was nothing to prevent it.”

“Except me,” Eleanor pointed out tartly.

Dario smiled in an indulgent way that spiked Eleanor’s rising irritation. “My dear, I am sure you do not realize what could befall a beautiful woman like you.” Seemingly oblivious of Eleanor’s narrowed gaze, he went on. “And I cannot help but wonder—does it not seem a great coincidence that this person should enter your room on the very night that you are at Lord Neale’s house?”

Eleanor stiffened. “Are you accusing Lord Neale of being the intruder in my room? That is absurd. He was in his room. He had obviously been in bed.”

“You did not see where the intruder went,” Dario reminded her in a reasonable tone. “He disappeared completely. We could find no trace of him. Think how quickly he could have escaped if he had only to run down a door or two. A few seconds to whip off his shirt and shoes—or perhaps he had not even worn shoes. Bare feet make much less sound. Then, when you scream, Lord Neale comes rushing out of his room, looking startled and claiming to have just awakened.”

“The exact same tale would apply to you, as well.”

Dario nodded understandingly. “This is true. But, you see, I have the advantage over you in that I know that I was not the one who did it.”

“Well, I cannot believe it was Anthony, either. He would have no reason.” But Eleanor could not help remembering her thoughts after the first break-in, that Anthony might have orchestrated the whole thing to frighten her into leaving the country and giving up control of the trust. “No, it’s absurd.”

She shook her head. When she had suspected him before, she had not known that he was a man with great wealth of his own. He had no need to control Samantha’s trust. Besides, he was too straightforward a man to devise such a roundabout plan. He was much more likely to confront her and demand that she leave.

“No more unlikely than the thought that someone might have followed us from London in order to look through your things. Without either of us or the coachman noticing.”

“Sir Malcolm and Lady Honoria also knew that I was there.”

“But why would they have done it?”

“Exactly the same question I would ask if it were Anthony. Or anyone else. I have no idea what the man is after.”

“Eleanor, please…let me come stay at your house, where I can protect you.”

“Dario, what would people say?” Eleanor responded, keeping her voice light. “An unmarried man under my roof? It would damage my reputation, and I know you would not want that.”