Lovers Forever (2 page)

Read Lovers Forever Online

Authors: Shirlee Busbee

“Do you think that Great-Grandmother Theresa ever felt anything but hatred and disgust for him?” Tess suddenly asked Hester.
Understandably confused by the question, Hester blinked at Tess, obviously attempting to gather her thoughts. “Are you referring to Gregory and Theresa?” At Tess's quick nod, Hester shrugged. “I don't know. I mean, it's not as if it were something I could ask her about, was it?”
Tess's mouth twisted. “I suppose not. I've just always wondered how she coped. It must have been horrible for her.”
Perfectly willing to discuss the matter, but totally mystified about why Tess should be interested in something that had happened so long ago, Hester said quietly, “Well, she didn't have to cope for very long—remember, she and Benedict disappeared together three or four years later.”
A dark look on her face, Tess muttered, “I know, but before
that
she had to endure Great-Grandfather
and,
don't forget, watch the man she really loved marry another. They both must have been utterly miserable—she married to a black-hearted scoundrel and Benedict finally forced to marry for the sake of his title. It must have been bitterly heartrending for her when Benedict's son was born. I don't doubt that every time she looked at her own son she didn't think that, except for dear Gregory's perfidious actions, the baby would have been hers and Benedict's.”
“It happened a long time ago, Tess. Why are you brooding on it now?”
“I don't know,” Tess answered truthfully. “I suppose it has to do with the fact that everyone says I look so much like her—even
I
can see the resemblance between myself and the portrait of her in the gallery. But it's not just the hair and eyes or even the shape of my face . . . it's something inside of me—there are times I feel such affinity with her—almost as if I can feel every emotion she felt.” Her mouth set in grim lines. “And I know she hated my great-grandfather with every bone and fiber of her being! I just hope that she and Benedict had a long happy life together when they finally ran away.”
“Well, Gregory certainly had a
long
life after she deserted him—and I find it ironic that he outlived not only their son, Richard, but one of his grandsons as well—your father, Edward. Ninety is a vast age, but I doubt he enjoyed very many of those added years.”
“He may not have enjoyed them, but I suspect he was thoroughly enraged when he realized that he was dying.” Tess shook her head. “He was such a despotic presence, even though he's been dead for over two years now, that sometimes when I walk into the blue salon, I expect to find him sitting there glaring at me.”
Hester's soft mouth thinned. “I know it is unkind to speak poorly of the dead, but he was such a devil! He was most unkind to you, Tess, no doubt because of your resemblance to Theresa.”
“Clearly he hadn't the least feeling of affection for any of his family. You'd think he'd have left his own sister better provided for, and as for you . . . well, I think he was still punishing you for not finding a wealthy husband, and that's why he made such a shabby provision for you in his will. He
wanted
you and Margaret to know that he didn't give a farthing about your future!”
Hester averted her face, and Tess could have bitten her tongue off. Hester had never said anything directly, but Tess knew that in the past there was someone her aunt had loved or was still in love with, and that her lack of fortune or his had something to do with Hester's unmarried state.
Tess was frantically seeking some way to change the topic when Hester began to speak. Her voice constricted, she got out, “Grandfather couldn't have known that Sidney would die so young. He knew Sidney would take care of Aunt Meg for the rest of her life. And as for me ...” She smiled painfully, “I never was a particular favorite of his anyway.”
“Are you defending him?” Tess demanded, outraged, her violet eyes nearly purple with anger. “You just said he was a devil! And as for
your
not being a particular favorite of his . . .” Tess suddenly grinned. “Oh, but wasn't he furious that his only great-grandchild should turn out to be a mere girl?”
Hester smiled wryly. “Indeed he was. I can remember the day you were born—he took it as a personal affront that your poor father and mother had produced only a puny female. I can still recall his ranting and raving as he stormed through the manor. He was absolutely livid. Claimed your dear mother had done it on purpose, just to spite him. Swore he'd find a way to prevent your father from inheriting the title if the next child wasn't a boy!” Hester shook her head. “I wonder, when your father died just a few years later, if he didn't regret his hasty words.” She grimaced and added, “Probably not. He always seemed to believe that he could arrange things precisely as he wanted.”
Everything Hester said was true. Tess had grown up under the malevolent eye of her great-grandfather, and during his lifetime, not a day had gone by that she hadn't been reminded that she should have been a boy or that she looked like the wife who had deserted him and vanished with another man. It hadn't sat well with Gregory, either, that she was an heiress in her own right and her fortune was safely in the hands of her uncle, where he could not get his grasping hands on it.
Gregory might not have known Sidney would die so improvidently, Tess conceded grimly, but he certainly had known that by not setting aside a decent amount in his will for Margaret and Hester, he was condemning them to a miserable existence if something
did
happen to Sidney. She would concede that by the time he died Gregory didn't have a grand fortune to command any longer, but from what remained, he could have settled enough money on each of his female dependents to insure them an independence—even if only a frugal one.
Which brought Tess back to her dilemma. Her own fortune was secure, but Margaret and Hester were at the mercy of the new Baron Mandeville for the roof over their heads and the very food they ate. Tess would have gladly expended a portion of her own impressive fortune on her aunt and great-aunt, but both ladies were loath to take advantage of her sincere offer. Despite several long conversations, usually when Avery had done something especially upsetting, Tess couldn't seem to make them understand that allowing her to provide for them would be no different from allowing Avery to see to their care. But both ladies were horrified at the idea of Tess using her fortune to take care of them—they were Mandevilles! It was up to Avery to see to their care. In some convoluted manner that made absolutely no sense to Tess, they felt that it would be unfair to her, that they would be taking undue advantage of her, if they allowed her to settle a reasonable sum on them.
Tess sighed heavily. Unless or until events became absolutely unbearable at Mandeville Manor, neither of the two women dearest to her in the world was willing even to hear of using Tess's money for their own benefit. In the meantime, in spite of Avery's odious attentions, and the possible danger to herself should he decide to follow Gregory's methods of obtaining a fortune, it was unthinkable that she simply abandon Hester and Aunt Meg to the indifferent care of that smarmy toad Avery! Which meant, Tess admitted uneasily, she had to stay at Mandeville Manor and helplessly watch over Hester and Aunt Meg like a hen with two chicks confronted by a rapacious tomcat!
A few minutes later Hester broke the thick silence by asking curiously, “Why were you thinking about the old scandal? Gregory's abduction of Theresa and her later disappearance with Benedict Talmage occurred decades ago. What made you think of them now?”
Tess shrugged. “I guess I had been thinking about the way things have turned out—Sidney's death and how if Gregory hadn't acted so despicably, there wouldn't be such enmity between ourselves and the earls of Sherbourne. Of course Gregory still would have been a spendthrift and wasted most of the money. So the Mandevilles would still probably have ended up in need of
another
heiress with which to repair their fortunes.”
Hester shot her a look. “Are you certain that Avery hasn't been annoying you?”
“Oh, perhaps, a little.” She glanced slyly at her aunt. “If you and Auntie Meg would let me set you up in a tidy little house near Hythe, I wouldn't have to endure his company at all!”
Hester looked distressed. “He
has
been pestering you!” Leaning forward, she said earnestly, “You don't have to stay, darling. You know your uncles would be most happy if you went to London or to Lord Rockwell's estate in Cornwall to live. And though we would miss you like the very devil, Meg and I would do fine....” She took a deep breath and blurted out, “And if he decides to cast us out of the house or he becomes too obnoxious for us to bear, we will let you buy us that little house!”
“But not until then?”
“Oh, Tess! You are the sweetest child in nature, but you know that we cannot. It would not be right!”
Seeing the worry in her aunt's eyes, Tess put on a sunny expression and said lightly, “Well, I don't think I'd be happy in London, and as for Cornwall, I'd much rather be right here with you—even if it means putting up with Avery!”
The coach slowed and a moment later they were traveling down the elm-lined drive that led to Mandeville Manor. The manor itself appeared shortly, an elegant half-timbered house built in Elizabethan times. Dark green ivy pressed itself to the sides of the building and softened the outlines of the many dormers in the tiled roof; the lattice-worked windows gleamed in the fading sunlight. With a flourish the carriage swept around the shrub-lined circular drive, and the coachman brought the horses to a stop at the base of the broad steps that led to the massive double entrance doors.
The horses had barely been pulled to a stop before one of the carved oak doors was thrown open and a tall man in buff breeches and a form-fitting coat of bottle green came strolling down the stone steps to meet the ladies. The gentleman, Avery Mandeville, the sixth Baron Mandeville, was without a doubt an attractive male, possessed of a well-made body with broad shoulders and slim hips; and the fact that he had been a military man before inheriting the title was obvious in the way he carried himself, his back ramrod straight, his head high. He far more resembled his third cousin, Gregory, than had any of Gregory's immediate offspring, having inherited Gregory's notable thick blond hair and icy blue eyes as well as the handsomeness that ran in the family.
In fact, watching his approach, Tess thought that he could have been her great-grandfather at the same age. A shiver went through her. The knowledge that she bore a striking resemblance to Theresa and that Avery's features were uncannily those of Gregory's made her distinctly uneasy. While the situation was different, she couldn't help wondering, since fate seemed to have assembled a pair of copies of the original players in herself and Avery, if history wasn't going to repeat itself.
Deliberately she shook off her unpleasant musings. It couldn't happen again—she'd never marry Avery, no matter
what
he did! She was far more likely to take a dagger to him if he ever laid a hand on her. As for her being desperately in love with a descendant of the earl of Sherbourne, the whole idea was ludicrous! She'd never met Randal Talmage's youngest brother, the latest earl of Sherbourne, nor did she even know his name. Love an unknown stranger indeed!
Chapter Two
A
very reached the coach and solicitously helped Hester down from the vehicle. Kissing her hand, he murmured, “Ah, dear cousin Hetty, I
do
wish when you want to use the carriage that you would inform me first. What would have happened if
I
had needed the coach this afternoon?”
Hester's cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she began to apologize most profusely, but Avery gently waved aside her words. “Oh, don't let it concern you. Just remember in the future to let me know of your plans. And now let us talk of other things—can it be that during the brief hours you have been away from Mandeville that you have grown even more lovely?”
Flustered, Hester stammered out some polite reply and threw Tess a beseeching glance. Correctly interpreting Hester's look as a plea not to annoy him, Tess bit back the tart words that threatened to escape at his antics. Ignoring Avery's outstretched hands as he turned to help her from the carriage, she nimbly alighted unaided.
A glitter of annoyance in his blue eyes, Avery drawled, “Such independence! It is obvious that you have been vastly spoiled by your aunts. No doubt you need a husband to teach you some manners! Will you at least allow me the pleasure of escorting you to the house?”
Tess looked consideringly from him to the short distance to the front door. “Oh, do you think I might be in danger?” she asked innocently. “That something dreadful might happen to me in the few seconds it will take to mount the steps and go inside?”
His handsome features tightened. “Don't be ridiculous! I was merely being polite.”
Brushing past him, Tess said airily, “Well, I'm certainly glad we have resolved this particular little misunderstanding. Now if you'll excuse me . . .”
Tess hurried into the house, not even waiting to see if Hester had followed her. Reaching the relative safety of her own rooms, she tossed aside her frivolous bonnet and ran her fingers through her tangled ringlets. She had been, she admitted guiltily, beastly to Avery, but she just couldn't seem to help herself. He grated on her nerves, and there was just something about him that made her jumpy and waspish and not at all her usual sunny self. Besides, she didn't like the way he treated Aunt Meg and Hester—arrogant one minute and in the next leaking oily charm all over them, much as he had just behaved with Hester a few minutes ago. He toys with them, Tess thought angrily, like a big, sleek cat with a pair of mice. Showing his claws, then retracting them. Always making them aware of the power he holds over them. Never letting them feel totally at ease.
With an irritable flounce, she turned away and began to shrug out of her travel-rumpled gown. She had just tossed the plum-colored gown onto the plump featherbed and was tying the sash of an apple green silk wrapper around her slender waist when the door to her room was thrown open. In outraged astonishment she stared as Avery calmly entered her room and shut the door firmly behind him.
“How dare you!” Tess began, her violet eyes flashing with temper. “Get out of my room this instant!”
Avery leaned back against the door and said bluntly, “I think you forget that this is
my
house now and that as lord and owner, I can go anywhere, anytime I please.”
“In that case,” Tess fairly snarled, “I shall remove myself from
your
house this very instant! If you shall be so good as to let John Coachman know that I shall be needing the carriage, I won't remain a second longer than is necessary to pack my belongings and leave for London. My uncles will be delighted to see me!”
“Hmm. Well, that does present a problem, doesn't it?” Avery drawled languidly. “You forget John is
my
servant and that the horses and coach are also mine.” His cold blue eyes met hers. “And it so happens that I don't want to send them out again today. As a matter of fact, I have given all of the servants a few days off.”
Tess took a deep, fortifying breath, her mind racing. The unexpected news that all the servants were gone was not encouraging. She knew that Avery was not happy with her open aversion to his suit, but surely he wouldn't be bold enough to attempt to force his attentions on her? Just his presence in her room like this was dangerous and could have ruinous repercussions. Every minute he remained here increased the danger. Her jaw set. “I think it is time that we had some clear understanding between us. I don't know what you believe you are accomplishing by these tactics, but I do not intend to let you compromise me. So if you do not get out of my room within the next two seconds, decorum be damned! I shall scream and scream for so long and so loudly that they will no doubt hear me in Canterbury!”
He smiled, and something in that smile suddenly made Tess frightened. “Go ahead,” he drawled. “I wonder what everyone will think when they discover us alone together in your bedchamber and you in such a charming state of dishabille?”
Tess was not noted for cool temperance. With a soft growl of fury, she snatched up a handsome silver candelabra and flung it at his head. He moved at the last second, and the candelabra crashed against the door with an explosive bang. Bosom heaving, she faced him across the short distance that separated them.
“Let them find us!” she said rashly. “I'd rather live with a ruined reputation and be the object of scandalous gossip for the rest of my life than allow myself to be tied to an unprincipled rogue like you!”
Avery regarded her thoughtfully for a long, unnerving moment, his handsome face revealing nothing. Then he shrugged and murmured, “I was hoping you'd be sensible about this and realize that marriage to me is your fate, but I can see that you are going to be difficult. So be it.” He shot her a derisive glance. “I wonder if you'll be as proud and confident of facing the resulting furor once it is learned that we have spent the night alone together . . . that I have availed myself of all your lovely charms?”
In dumbfounded fury, Tess stared at him, hardly able to credit that he was brazenly admitting that he planned to force her into marriage the same way her great-grandfather had forced Theresa. However, before she could give tongue to the hot words that crowded her throat, Avery sketched her an infuriatingly polite little bow and left her room, shutting the door ever so quietly behind him. With something akin to horror she heard the key turn in the lock and then the muted sounds of his departure.
He wouldn't dare, she thought incredulously. He couldn't possibly believe that he could get away with it!
She flung herself against the door and tried the knob. In growing consternation, she watched as it turned uselessly in her hand. Like a wild animal caught in a trap, she beat her fists against the unyielding wood, hoping that someone would hear her. Sobbing as much in anger as fear, she continued to beat against the door, calling out urgently for someone to free her.
It was to no avail. No one came in answer to her desperate shouts. What Avery had told the servants or how he could keep her aunts at bay, she didn't know, but for the moment it appeared that he had matters well in hand. She was locked in her own room—the prisoner of a man she despised.... Filled with despair, she sank to the floor at the base of the door. Good God! What was she to do?
Reminding herself that letting fear overrule her common sense would be fatal, she took a few calming breaths and rose to her feet. Avery was not going to win. Her chin set at a determined angle, she crossed to a damask-covered slipper chair by her bed. She had to think.
She sat there for a long, long time, unaware of the falling darkness around her, unaware of the swiftly passing time, her thoughts churning wildly. She had known that Avery was dangerous, but she had not expected him to act so precipitously or so brazenly. She frowned. Something must have happened while she and Hester were gone this afternoon, something to put the wind up him and force him into taking such risky action. But what could it have been?
Absently her gaze traveled over her bedchamber, done up fashionably in her favorite shades of rose and cream, while she considered various possibilities. Almost by accident her eyes fell on the small silver salver sitting on the edge of her satinwood dressing table and the envelope that lay within it.
As she sprang up from her chair, she suddenly became aware of the evening gloom that permeated the room. Grumbling to herself, she found the matching candelabra that she had earlier thrown at Avery and lit it. Carrying the light, she walked over to the dressing table and snatched up the envelope, noticing angrily in the flickering candlelight that Lord Rockwell's seal had been broken and not very cleverly repaired. Almost as if it didn't matter that she should know the letter from her uncle had been opened and that eyes other than hers had already read it.
Muttering an unladylike curse, Tess took out the single page and swiftly scanned the contents. Lord Rockwell must have sensed that things were not going well at Mandeville Manor, because the letter imparted the knowledge that he and her other uncle, Alexander, were coming to Kent for a visit—an extended stay. They would arrive Saturday, four days hence, and they looked forward to a long, leisurely visit with her and her aunts. Near the end of his missive, Lord Rockwell mentioned the possibility that once the visit to Mandeville had ended, all three ladies might like to travel with them to Rockwell Hall, his estate in Cornwall, where they could celebrate the holidays together.
Well, that certainly explained Avery's actions, Tess concluded glumly. Avery wasn't a stupid man, and after reading Lord Rockwell's letter, he must have realized that some news of his determined pursuit of Tess must have reached her uncles' ears and that they were coming to Mandeville Manor to see for themselves the true state of affairs. The offer for Tess and her aunts to spend Christmas at Rockwell Hall made it clear that her uncles also intended to spirit her away to what they considered a safer place.
Nibbling her full lower lip, Tess nervously paced the confines of her room. Avery must have known as soon as he had read her letter, and there was no doubt in her mind that he
had
read her letter, that there wasn't a moment to spare. That whatever plans he had for her must be completed by Saturday, when her uncles were due to arrive.
With a sense of growing panic she dashed around the room, checking to see if she had overlooked a way of escape. The narrow leaded windows that overlooked the gardens at the rear of the house did not open but only provided light, and it was a treacherously long drop from her second-story bedroom to the stone terrace below.
She swallowed. If nothing else occurred to her, she would just have to beat open the windows and take the risk of breaking her neck rather than wait tamely for Avery's reappearance. She had to escape! Hours had passed since he had locked her in her room. There was not a moment to lose!
With that in mind, she hastily fashioned a rope from the linens on her bed, then changed into a black velvet riding habit and pulled on her boots. After scooping up her jewelry box and stuffing it, along with some odd pieces of clothing, in a pillowcase, she grabbed a black cloak and took one last look around the room. There was nothing else that would be of use to her.
Darkness had fallen. The hour was not very late, but Tess was suddenly conscious of the ominous silence of the house. Ordinarily there was the bustle of the servants, the sounds of doors opening and shutting, the rattle of trays and oddments as the staff went about their tasks, but this evening all was quiet. It was as if the entire house knew what was to take place and were holding its breath . . . waiting for history to repeat itself.
History would
not
repeat itself, she promised herself fiercely. Avery would find she was made of sterner stuff than Theresa had been.
Tess set the pillowcase near the window and picked up the brass poker from near the fireplace. As she struck a mighty blow against the windowpanes, there was a loud crash; her fingers stung from the force with which the poker had connected with the window, but the glass remained undamaged.
Choking back a sob of despair, she struck again and again. She was concentrating so fiercely on smashing open the window that she almost didn't hear the turning of the key in the lock. But just as an encouraging crack appeared in one pane, that soft grating sound impinged upon her consciousness and spun her around like a tigress at bay. Heart thundering in her breast, the poker held firmly in her hand, she stood ready to do battle with the blackguard who planned her dishonor.

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