Carla Kelly (29 page)

“
Miss
Chartley, it is perfection!” Then her face fell. “What a pity to
waste it on that horrid man.”

“
Indeed,” agreed Miss Chartley. “But it can be worn again,
Tildy.”

The maid regarded
her a moment and then spoke softly. “Begging your pardon, Miss
Chartley, but was this dress ... was it meant for you?”

Omega nodded. “I
think so, Tildy.” Her smile was a little wan. “Matthew always had
impeccable taste.” She turned around and took hold of Tildy’s
hands. “My dear, I know all of you are wondering. It is enough for
me to say that Lord Byford and I had a terrible falling-out eight
years ago.”

“
Oh,
but could you not resolve it?”

“
I ...
I think not, my dear.”

Tildy draped
Omega’s other dress and apron over her arm. “The house will be so
strange when all of you leave, and Lord Byford will retreat to his
bookroom again, and not speak above ten words a day to us, for all
that he is kind.”

“
I’m
sorry, Tildy. Truly I am.” Omega squared her shoulders. “There,
now. Do I look sufficiently matronly and dignified? No? Well, it
will have to do. Let me know when Lord Rotherford
arrives.”

Tildy went to the
door and hesitated. “This is forward of me, Miss Chartley, but do
you love Lord Byford?”

It was forward,
it was encroaching, but Omega was touched by Tildy’s evident
concern. “I do, my dear,” she replied softly. “I did not think it
possible that he could be dearer to me than he was eight years ago,
especially after all we have been through, but he is. I wish that I
understood such things.” She made a small gesture. “Perhaps
education and books do not really make us wise, Tildy. I once
thought they did.”

“
Good
luck, Miss Chartley,” said Tildy as she quietly closed the
door.

It was Twinings
who summoned her upstairs when Lord Rotherford arrived. “The
footman and I will serve tonight,” he said. “Tildy is
afraid.”

“
Very
well,” she said.
And I am afraid
,
too
, she thought. “Have
you shown him into the parlor?”

“
Yes,
Miss Chartley. Or rather, Mrs. Wells.”

Her courage
deserted her as she mounted the stairs and approached the parlor
door. “Oh, Twinings,” she whispered, “do not delay dinner
long!”

“
No,
Mrs. Wells.”

Rotherford was
resplendent in evening dress. He turned when she entered the room,
and bowed mockingly to her. He raised his quizzing glass. “You are
magnificent, Mrs. Wells. How honored I am that you have indeed
chosen to dine with me.”

She nodded in his
direction. “It would be rude to ignore my master’s
relatives.”

Twinings summoned
them into the dining room. Lord Rotherford offered her his arm and
she took it. She could hardly help from noticing how nicely muscled
his arm was.
Oh, Matthew, I fear you are sadly out of shape
,
she thought,
compared to this paragon. I hope this affair will
not come to blows
.

Dinner was a
challenge. Rotherford’s conversation was a smoothly flowing river,
a fountain of clever information about London doings and gossip
that held little interest for her. He was amusing, he was charming.
She listened to his cleverness, forced herself to smile into his
dead eyes, and wondered what was going on in his brain.

Course after
course came and went, and still Rotherford carried his end of the
conversation and hers
,
too, laughing at his own witticisms, nodding at his sagacity. He
began to fascinate her in a way that drew her even as it repelled
her. Omega decided that listening to Lord Rotherford was rather
like running her tongue over an abscessed tooth. It was painful
even as it was compelling.

Dinner over,
Rotherford pushed back from the table. “Now, my dear Mrs. Wells,
my, er, friend at your back gate tells me that you had an encounter
with a rose bramble this afternoon.”

She colored
prettily and looked away. “I fear my ankle is still a trifle
unsteady. I should have stayed off that uneven path.”

“
Oh,
come now, my dear. My short acquaintance with you—and I don’t
scruple to say that I swear I have seen you before—my short
acquaintance tells me that you would never do such a
thing.”

“
My
lord, you know what a trial roses can be.”

“
I bow
to your greater knowledge. Why is it that I think you may have been
attempting a rather clever diversion?”

Omega raised her
eyebrows and widened her eyes. “My lord, whatever can you
mean?”

He leaned
forward, moving almost quicker than sight, and grasped her by the
wrist. “If you have somehow alerted James that I am in the
neighborhood, it will not be a pleasant thing for any of
us.”

Just as suddenly
he released her arm. Omega remained absolutely still.

“
And
because I feel some ... slight suspicion, I intend to remain here
all night.” He smiled at her. “I am not going to let you out of my
sight. And when morning comes, we will see who arrives.”

Omega rose to her
feet, and Rotherford handed her the cane. “Mrs. Wells, is the
parlor more comfortable? Or do you recommend another
room?”

“
The
library, my lord.” Her words were calm, even as her thoughts
bounded about the room. The library was at the back of the house.
Surely one of the servants would alert Hugh before he found himself
in the middle of something terrible.

Rotherford bowed
and offered her his arm again, which she took. “Lead on, then, Mrs.
Wells. We will go to the library.”

Omega started
down the hall and realized her mistake. That there was a library,
she was sure, because Tildy had mentioned it. But where was it? She
moved down the long hall as the taste of defeat grew in her mouth,
and opened the first door she came to.

Rotherford opened
the door wider and peered inside. He looked back at her, his eyes
showing absolutely no emotion. “My dear Mrs. Wells, I believe this
is the billiards room! Fancy that. Shall we try again?”

Omega tightened
her lips and opened the door across the hall. It contained a piano,
a harp, and several easels, all in holland covers.

Rotherford
laughed. “Mrs. Wells! Such a forgetful housekeeper you are! Let me
help you. Could
this
be the library?”

He opened the
door and ushered her in, closing the door behind them. Enough
daylight remained for him to light the lamp and set the candles
around the library winking in their sconces. He raised both arms in
a flourish.
“
Voilà
,
Mrs. Wells, the library! How lucky that we found
it!” With each word, his voice grew a little harsher. “Since you
have obviously never been here before, you may want to note its
location, so you can dust here in the morning.”

She said nothing,
but sat in a chair gripping her cane. Rotherford quietly pried her
fingers from it and set the cane out of her reach. He knelt by her
chair. “My dear, we have certainly established beyond all doubt
that you are not the housekeeper. Who might you be?”

When she did not
speak, he stroked her under the chin. “I have my suspicions, but
that is so farfetched that I will not bore you with it. Rather let
us remain here and await the arrival of ... who knows? I am filled
with anticipation.”

She sat silent,
her hands clutched tightly together in her lap, as Rotherford
crossed to the globe and set it spinning. He selected a book off
the shelf and handed it to her. “If you read to me, I am sure the
time will pass more favorably.”

Omega glanced
down at the book. It was Defoe’s
Journal of the Plague Year.
With fingers that trembled, she opened it to the beginning and then
slammed the book shut. “Sir, I refuse to be bullied further by you.
We will remain in silence, for I have nothing to say.”

He bowed to her
and took a seat nearby. He turned toward her and rested his chin on
his hands. “I, then, shall study you, Miss Whoever-you-are. Perhaps
it will occur to me where I have seen you before.”

She bore his
scrutiny in silence, willing herself to think of other things. The
first hour dragged by, and then she began to conjugate verbs and
then to parse sentences in her mind. Rotherford continued to stare
at her. When the clock in the hallway chimed eight times, she
smiled. It was one more hour that Jamie and Angela were farther
away from this terrible man. She could stand anything if only they
were even now hurrying toward the home of her brother.

Another hour
passed, and another. Thunder rumbled in the distance, coming closer
and closer. Soon it began to rain. Omega sighed. Perhaps some
friendly farmer returning late from market would pick up Jamie and
Angela.

And then, as she
was resting her cheek on her hand, struggling to keep her eyes
open, she heard voices in the hall. Rotherford sat up straight, but
he continued to watch her. He noted her expectancy with that
bloodless calm almost more frightening than outright rage. “Please
remain seated, my dear. I wouldn’t want our latest arrival to think
I have been boring you.”

The door to the
library banged open and Hugh Owen stood there, soaking wet. He
opened his mouth to speak to her, but Omega put her finger to her
lips and shook her head. Hugh glanced from Omega to Lord Rotherford
and nodded in complete understanding.

“
Lord
Rotherford,” he said pleasantly, extending his hand. “How
disappointed Jamie will be to have missed you!”

Rotherford leapt
from his chair, all pretense of civility gone. “Where is my
nephew?” he roared.

Omega made
herself small in the chair. Hugh walked deliberately toward
Rotherford until he stood in front of Omega, shielding her. “He is
not here. You’re not going to find him easily, either, my lord. In
fact, I think you may not find him at all.”

With a cry of
rage, Lord Rotherford slapped Hugh Owen with the back of his hand,
slamming the sergeant to the floor like a felled tree. Hugh’s check
was slashed open by Rotherford’s signet ring, and suddenly there
was blood everywhere. With a cry of her own, Omega dropped to her
knees and reached for the sergeant. Before she touched him, Lord
Rotherford grabbed her by the hair and dragged her backward. He
shook her like a dog with a bone, bending her back over her
sprained ankle.

“
Oh,
God,” she shrieked. “Let go of me!” Little starry lights flickered
around her eyes as she clawed at Rotherford’s hand, which had a
firm hold on her hair.

Dimly she heard
someone else screaming in the hall. It must have been Tildy. Omega
called to her, but her voice was the barest whisper. As Rotherford
shouted terrible things at her that she could not even understand,
Omega heard the door slam again. She hung on to Rotherford’s hand
and prayed that Tildy had run for the constable. “Oh, sir, let go
of me!” she begged.

“
Yes,
Edwin, I suggest that you do as the lady says, and quickly too,
before God,” said Matthew from the doorway.

Omega tried to
slew herself around, but Rotherford held her tight. She sagged to
the floor, scratching and clawing to free her hair, when Rotherford
let go of her. She crawled to Hugh again and held on to him, afraid
to look up.

She felt a hand
on her shoulder and cringed. “Omega, it’s all right,” she heard,
and opened her eyes.

It wasn’t Matthew
as she had ever seen him before, with a days-old growth of beard,
and dressed in the clothes of a farmer. Like Hugh, he was wet from
the rain, his hair plastered to his head. She reached for his hand;
he clasped hers for a moment, and then stood up again.

“
Edwin, I challenge you do a duel,” he snapped in a voice she
had never heard before. “Tomorrow at dawn.”

Rotherford
laughed. “Pistols at ten paces then, you fool.”

Matthew moved
closer to Rotherford until they were almost nose-to-nose. “Make it
five paces, please. I don’t want either of us to miss.”

Rotherford
stepped back involuntarily, his eyes holding in them the first
glimmer of expression that Omega had seen. It was replaced quickly,
smoothly, by that blank curtain. He spoke again in his calm tones,
as if he were placating a noisy child.

“
My
very dear Matthew, you forget yourself. All I desire is that my
nephew be restored to the bosom of my family.” He moved toward
Omega as if to raise her to her feet. She hugged Hugh closer to her
and ducked her head over his limp body. “Here, now, my dear, I
meant you no harm!”

“
Get
away from me!” she muttered through clenched teeth.

Rotherford
straightened up, a wounded look darting across his face and
disappearing. “Really, Matthew, you know you do not wish to duel
with me!” He managed a small indulgent laugh. “Have you never seen
me shoot, dear boy? I will be pleased enough to forget all this in
exchange for my nephew.”

Matthew sat down
on the arm of the chair close to Hugh and Omega. “I will duel with
you, Edwin,” he said softly.