Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage] (24 page)

Slowly, she nodded, laying her head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Prescott.”

“It’s nothing. I’m only taking a stroll, you’re the one who’s doing all the work.”

Then Prescott took the longest walk of his life.

“I
’m going to kill that conniving, vicious, oh, she doesn’t deserve to be called
lady,
Pomfry,” Janelle ground out, as she leaned over Edwina’s still body on the bed. “Pull every hair from her head, grind her eyes out, make her eat dirt…”

Standing next to Janelle, Ginny raised a sodden handkerchief to her eyes. “I still can’t believe Lady Pomfry actually poisoned Edwina. What kind of hateful person does such a thing? And to employ servants to do her dirty deeds…”

Janelle nodded. “That footman she bribed to poison Edwina’s cocoa ought to be hanged. Thank the heavens, Sir Lee, you were here to interrogate the man, so we could learn the truth of it.”

Ginny turned to Sir Lee standing by the window. “Do you believe, as the man claims, that he didn’t know what was in the draught?”

“What difference does it make?” Prescott growled as he paced alongside Edwina’s bed, fairly plowing a rut in the carpet with each turn. “It was wrong and he could have killed her!”

Ginny wrung her hands. “We must count our blessings that Edwina didn’t drink the entire mug. And that poor maid…Lady Kendrick says she’s sick as a dog.”

“Serves her right for sneaking from Edwina’s cocoa,” Janelle declared.

Leaning on his gold-topped cane, Sir Lee tilted his head. “If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t have known for certain that it was poison. And that the trail led right to Lady Pomfry.”

For the thousandth time Prescott hovered over Edwina, seeking some semblance of reassurance that she was all right. This past hour had been the longest hour of his life, as he’d watched Edwina gag and choke so that his heart wrenched with agony for her suffering. Now, spent and exhausted, Edwina lay still in the bed, deathly pale, her closed eyes hosting a halo of red spots from all of the retching.

“She’s sleeping, finally,” Ginny murmured. “I think the worst of it has passed.”

Whipping his coat off of the chair where he’d laid it an hour before, Prescott declared, “I’m going after Daphne. She can’t have gotten far.”

“Why go after her?” Sir Lee demanded. “What good will it do, now?”

“What if it’s not antimony pills? What if it’s something else? What if Daphne has an antidote? With a fast horse I can overtake her. Get whatever we need from her.”

Sir Lee’s eyes narrowed. “If I can have a word with you outside, Mr. Devane.”

“You’ll not stop me!” Prescott moved to step around the man, but Sir Lee was swifter than he looked.

The old gent laid his hand on Prescott’s arm. “I’ll have that word, if you please!”

“Fine.” Prescott shook the man off under the guise of adjusting his coat sleeves. “But only a moment. Then I’m going after her!”

Out in the hallway, Sir Lee wheeled to face him, standing close. “You’ll stay here, Mr. Devane, where your lady needs you.”

“There’s nothing I can do here! There, at least, I can be of some help!”

“There is no antidote, other than time.”

“Daphne must know something! She can confirm that it was the salts! She can…she can…”

“Pay?”

Prescott wrapped his anger around him like a welcome mantle. Anything was better than the impotent torment of watching Edwina suffer. “Why not? She should. Anyone who would hurt Edwina…”

“Do you really believe that you could harm Lady Pomfry? Teach her the error of her ways?”

“I certainly want to.”

“But can you? Can you raise a hand to a lady, one you obviously, at some point in time, were fond of?”

Prescott wanted to say “yes,” but the word was stuck in his throat. He wanted to exact righteous vengeance on the person who harmed the woman of his heart, but he had to be honest with himself.

Curling his fists, Prescott gritted his teeth. “I don’t…
know. Probably not. But I know I must confront her. I cannot let things lie—”

“Better to leave her to the authorities—”

“Oh, they’ll have her, I’ll ensure! She’s not getting away with this!” He squared his shoulders, his resolve fixed once more. He might not be capable of violence against Daphne, but she didn’t know that, and a good scare certainly wouldn’t hurt. At least he’d find out what she used to poison Edwina. “Now your minute is up, sir, and I will be on my way.”

“I cannot let you go, Mr. Devane. I cannot watch you make a grave mistake. You see, poisons can be fatal. I am hopeful that Lady Ross expelled the salts in time, but one cannot know until the victim either recovers or dies.”

The anxiety constricting Prescott’s chest tightened so that he could hardly breathe. “How can you speak so calmly about Edwina’s demise?”

“I am all too familiar with death, I’m afraid.”

“And poisons? Are you familiar with those as well?”

“What I do know is how poisons work and, regrettably, their consequences.”

“So you know why I have to go. Why I have to find out if there’s any hope…any antidote…”

“What I know, Mr. Devane, is that there are others who can hunt down Lady Pomfry. Others who can make her pay for her crime. But there is no one else who can comfort Lady Ross like you can.”

“But…”

“Look, Mr. Devane, I know that you and Lady Ross are not really engaged.”

“What…?”

“Janelle, Lady Blankett, confided in me about your fake engagement to Lady Ross and the reason for it.”

His shock must have shown on his face, for Sir Lee rushed on, “I tend to inspire confidences, so don’t blame her, and she simply needed someone to talk to about her concerns. She felt that I could be trusted, which, of course, I can. I shall not say a word. But that aside, although you and Lady Ross aren’t truly betrothed, I can see how much you care for one another. No one else’s presence will ease Lady Ross’s suffering like yours. And no one else would regret it more than you if she dies without you being by her side.”

The old gent’s eyes glistened with unshed tears and he swallowed. Sadness filled his green gaze and his craggy face drooped like a deflated balloon. “I have more than my share of regrets, Mr. Devane, but that, by far, is the worst. I shall not see you suffer it if there’s anything I can do to stop it.”

Unbidden, the memory of Headmaster Dunn swept over Prescott, and grief pierced his heart. The larger-than-life headmaster could have been standing before him, for his sentiments would have been the same as Sir Lee’s. He would have given the identical counsel, would have spoken with similar concern for Prescott’s well-being.

The ache of his recent loss dissolved Prescott’s anger, leaving only the fear that ate at him like a parasite. “I can’t lose her,” he whispered as his vision swam with tears. “I only just found her…” Being with Edwina had alleviated his grief, made him not feel so wretchedly alone. Losing her would just be too much…

Dropping his face into his hands, sorrow and anxiety
and pain sliced through him. “I don’t want to be…I just can’t…”

Sir Lee draped his arm across Prescott’s shoulders. “I know you can’t lose her, son. You love her.”

Love her?
Prescott looked up, about to argue, but the words would not come.
Do I? Does what I feel for Edwina amount to love?

He certainly admired her, immensely. She had an amazing ability to inspire him and move him. And her influence did motivate him to be a better man, to be a more considerate person. And when he was with her, he didn’t feel like “the great pretender,” but was accepted for himself. He didn’t have to mask his feelings, but felt free from judgment. Could that be…was that love?

She made him feel as if he had a dear advocate who cared for him and his well-being. As if he had a partner on his side. Someone who knew who he was and was all right with that. That, because of her, he wasn’t so terribly alone. But was that love?

Indeed, she garnered an astonishing feeling of
rightness
within him. When they kissed, touched, he felt
connected,
whole.

And he definitely looked forward to seeing her, couldn’t wait to share things with her, wanted to be with her as much as possible, and enjoyed every moment they were together…

With Edwina, for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like a rudderless ship, adrift in an inconsistent current without a harbor to claim. He felt like he was wanted, like he had a
home.

The truth smacked him in the head so hard, he saw stars.

“I…I do love Edwina. I really do.”

“So go to her. Leave everything else to me. I will contact the authorities. I will ensure that this terrible deed does not go unpunished. You be where you’re needed most, by Lady Ross’s side.”

Prescott nodded, wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. “If love means falling to pieces, then I don’t know that I can endure it.”

“You can if you have a good woman by your side.” Sir Lee stepped away. “It makes everything more supportable.”

Prescott straightened, struck by a horrible fear, very different from Edwina dying, but equally as terrifying. “What if she doesn’t love me back? What if my feelings aren’t reciprocated? I have nothing to offer a fine lady like Edwina. No purse, no title…I don’t even have my own name!”

Sir Lee shook his fist. “You fight for her, son. Devanes are fighters and given name or no, you are now a Devane. You will fight until you are damned and bloodied if you must, but you must fight for her! Or you’re not the man that I believe you to be.”

“Fight for her? What does that mean?”

“Declare your intentions. Make your feelings known. Let her appreciate all that you are willing to do for her, for your future. Make what was a pretense something real.”

“Are you…speaking of marriage?”

“Of course! To what else would I be referring?”

A hodgepodge of emotions swept through Prescott. Hope, fear, an uneasiness about the man he’d always considered himself to be and who he felt like at this moment. “I…I don’t know…I’ve never thought that I would marry…”

“Not marry? Why in the blazes not?”

“I don’t exactly have encouraging feelings about the parson’s mousetrap, sir. My parents’ experience was less than pleasant.”

“But you don’t have to repeat their mistakes.”

The irony was not lost on him: marrying Edwina would be an
exact
repetition of his parents’ mistakes. It had all of the makings of a play, a tragedy, of course; fine lady of noble family marries beneath her and comes to regret it. For undoubtedly her family would disapprove, hence a host of familial censure and heartache. In the second act the heroine shuns her unworthy husband and then dramatically dies from disappointment. Well, disappointment mixed with typhus. In the final installment, the child of that ill-fated marriage repeats the same mistakes all over again. The curtain falls and the theatre house is dark.

Prescott’s mind reared away from the disturbing memories, as suddenly a glimmer of hope sparked inside of him. Perhaps it could be different if they simply didn’t marry. If they remained lovers and only that? Then her family might not object so terribly. People had been known to have wonderful, caring, happy relationships for years without the blessing of a cleric. Perhaps they could, too.

The lines around Sir Lee’s mouth deepened into a scowl, as his canny eyes fixed on Prescott. “And you must marry if you are to bring children into this world. You must give them your name.”

Children. With Edwina. His heart skipped a beat. It was a dream beyond all expectation. To have such a joyous connection with Edwina. An amazing bond between them, and the wonder of bringing a child up to
gether. To give a child the love and caring and support…

The door slammed closed on Prescott’s dreams so hard, he could almost feel its jarring boom. He had little enough to offer Edwina, he would not condemn a child to a life of “less thans.” The disapproval and rejection by all family. The censure by society. The nightmare of watching the separation between the parents as the pressures of life bore down upon them.

“No.” He shook his head. “No children.”

“You would be a good father, Mr. Devane,” Sir Lee urged. “I have seen how you deal with others, your caring and consideration for Lady Ross. And Lady Ross would be a wonderful—”

“Of course she would,” Prescott interrupted. “That’s not the point! Hell, I don’t even have a home to call my own. I certainly can’t have a child. It would be irresponsible. And I will not condemn a child to a life of heartache.”

“Like you had?” Sir Lee offered softly.

“I would not have a child suffer it, not for all the gold in Cairo.”

Ginny poked her head out into the hallway. “Oh, I’m so glad you haven’t left yet! She’s calling for you, Prescott. Edwina wants you.”

She wanted him. Needed him. And he would go to her. Stay with her as long as possible. Love her as long as she was willing to let him.

He would give her everything, including saving her from sharing his unworthy name.

Resolve settled upon him and he turned to Sir Lee. “Thank you for your wise counsel, sir. I am in your debt.”

“But—”

“I must go.”

Shaking his head, Sir Lee waved him off. “Of course, go to her, she needs you. But please bear witness that one day I may call in that debt.”

“As is your right,” Prescott called over his shoulder as he strode into Edwina’s chambers.

“Nay,” the old gent whispered to the now-empty hallway. “It is my duty.”

T
he next afternoon, Edwina and Prescott sat in the large armchairs in the salon in her chambers.

“Ugh.” Edwina wrinkled her nose at the musty-smelling liquid in the mug Prescott held out to her. “I don’t like barley water.”

“Stop complaining and drink.” Prescott pressed the cup into her hands and then reclined in the chair across from her.

Today he wore a hunter green coat that made his eyes appear more jade than emerald. Every time the sun shining in through the open window flickered in his gaze, her breath caught. He was so handsome and so astoundingly attentive. When she began this ruse she never would have imagined how dear he would become to her.

His hair was loose, without pomade and uncovered, the way she liked it, and she had to wrap her hands
around the mug to keep from reaching out to brush them through his coppery brown mane.

But she kept her hands to herself, worried that Prescott might not be interested in her that way any longer. The specter of Sir Geoffrey’s disgust hovered over her like a foul vapor, along with something that her cousin Henry had once told her. Henry had said that husbands were kept out of their wife’s birthing chambers because a man wouldn’t be able to touch his wife ever again after seeing her in such a wretched state. Edwina feared that the same concept might apply to her ghastly bout with antimony salts and Prescott.

The concept was so disheartening, she had to push it out of her mind for fear of breaking down and weeping. Just when she’d discovered her passion, to have it whisked away so abruptly, and by a devious witch like Lady Pomfry…

Well it was all too unjust to consider. So she simply wouldn’t.

Instead, she would focus on what a saint Prescott had been. Catering to her every need, bringing her a hundred different drinks until he found something that she could hold down, reading to her, taking her outside for some fresh air while the maids cleaned her rooms.

He’d insisted that the bed chamber be scrubbed and the sheets changed, thankfully eliminating the horrible odors associated with her malady. He’d said that he knew from past experience that smell alone could exacerbate her nausea. His ability to put himself into her shoes was astonishing.

And yet through it all, he hadn’t kissed or touched her in any way different than he would a sister. She hungered for his lips, longed for his musky male scent,
and yearned for the feel of his hard body pressing against hers.

And deplorably, he seemed completely oblivious to her as a woman. She was a patient in need of caring, a friend in need of company, but not a woman in need of her man. She was being utterly selfish, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted him to desire her, madly, hungrily and with the deep abiding passion that she felt for him.

But she wasn’t about to press the issue. It would be like asking a man why he didn’t send flowers. Once the criticism was out there, then any gesture he made would be seen as insincere. Where was the good in that? The only thing Edwina could do was be grateful for Prescott’s kindness. How utterly demoralizing.

“Come now, drink it,” Prescott urged, pulling Edwina from her gloomy woolgathering. “Or I will have Janelle force you to take it, and you know what a martinet she can be.”

“My, aren’t you bossy.” She raised a brow, pretending that her heart wasn’t breaking. “One would think you might be a little bit sweeter to a poisoning victim.” She forced a smile to let him know that she was only teasing.

“I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, Prescott. These last few hours have been, well, better off forgotten. But I’ll never forget your thoughtfulness. I want you to know how much I appreciate your kindness.”

He shrugged. “You would have done the same for me.”

“Of course. But that doesn’t diminish the significance of your thoughtfulness.” She sipped from the lukewarm drink. It was dreadful, but settled her stomach
as nothing else would. “I just hope that you’re still not blaming yourself for what happened.”

“You seem determined not to let me.” He smiled, but there was a sadness in his gaze that pinched at her heart.

She couldn’t help herself, reaching across the small table, she squeezed his hand. “Please don’t. It’s hard enough feeling wretched without being guilt-ridden for somehow being responsible for making you feel to blame.”

“That makes me feel even guiltier!” His face was stern but his tone was joking.

“If I agree to discard my guilt, then will you as well?”

“Deal.” Smiling, he stood and leaned over, kissing her parted lips so sweetly, she almost swooned.

Relief whipped through her along with an exhilarating thrill.

He still desires me!

The smells and sights of the last few hours might have cowed a lesser man. But Prescott Devane was no ordinary man! Thank the heavens.

Raking his hand through her loose curls, he murmured, “Oh, how I’ve missed your delicious lips.” He swallowed. “I know the doctor said no exertion, but I don’t think a little kissing would hurt, do you?”

The dear man had been anxious about overexerting her! And all the while she had worried that he no longer desired her. An overwhelming, head-over-heels rush of affection surged through her for this wonderful man.

Reaching up and caressing his smooth, square jaw, Edwina murmured, “I’m feeling much better…and the doctor said that I do need to stay in bed…”

He nibbled her mouth, gently sucking the soft flesh between his lips. “I think I can figure a few ways to keep you lying down, perhaps not quite resting…”

“Ahem.” Someone coughed behind Prescott. “Ahem.” The lady coughed again.

Reluctantly, Prescott pulled away, his blazing eyes meeting hers. “Later,” he whispered, his breath drifting across her ear, causing a shiver.

“Promise?”

“Definitely.” Straightening, he moved aside.

Lady Kendrick stood in the threshold, a businesslike smile on her long oval face. The stout woman was like a ship’s captain, forever in charge and at work, executing her tasks with gusto. Clasping her hands together before her, she declared, “It warms my heart to see the color back in your cheeks, Lady Ross.”

Edwina felt her cheeks burn. “Your gracious hospitality and the thoughtful efficiency of your servants have ensured that my every need has been met. Thank you for everything, my lady.”

“Yes, well, we’d all be better off if the whole mess hadn’t started in the first instance.” The lady scowled. “I don’t know what I was thinking including that dreadful Lady Pomfry in the party.”

Prescott shot Edwina an endearing glance, “As a wise woman once told me, assuming blame only continues the round of guilt and we’d all prefer a round of something much more palatable.”

“Yes, well.” She grimaced. “My gathering would have been a social success had I not invited that woman. And as it stands, well…”

Prescott scratched his chin. “I hate to say it, my lady, but you will likely come out of this misadventure with a reputation for throwing memorable parties.”

The matron’s face lit up. “I hadn’t thought of it that way!”

“Moreover, not only will everyone hear about what happened to Edwina, but they will also learn of your gracious hospitality.”

“You do have a talent for looking at the brighter side of things, Mr. Devane!”

A liveried servant entered, bowed to the guests and then whispered something in Lady Kendrick’s ear. The matron nodded to the man and then looked up at them. “If you will excuse me for a moment?”

After she was gone, Edwina grabbed Prescott’s hand, whispering, “I’m starting to feel bad that we’re using this house party to catch the blackmailer, Prescott. I feel like we’re imposing on Lady Kendrick’s gracious hospitality.”

“We didn’t set this stage, if you recall, Edwina. The blackmailer did. And we are doing what we can to keep Lady Kendrick from ever knowing.” He leaned close, keeping a keen eye on the empty doorway. “And since Ginny hasn’t heard from the knave, we have no choice but to continue with our efforts.”

“I wonder why he hasn’t made his demands yet.”

Prescott shrugged. “My guess is he likes to make people squirm. Or mayhap the escapade with Daphne threw off everyone’s schedule, including his?”

“I can’t help but wonder if mayhap Ginny isn’t the only guest who’s here for purposes other than country entertainment. Can there be other blackmail victims
amongst the guests?”

“Gather your victims and collect payment much more easily? You may be right. And perhaps that’s why she hasn’t heard from the blackguard. Mayhap she’s lower on the list of targets.”

“All the more reason we must stop this villain. We will have to search more than one room a night—”

Squeezing her hand, his eyes widened. “In all of the chaos, I forgot to tell you!”

“What?”

“First, Sir Lee knows all and is more than willing to help.”

“How wonderful. I like him exceedingly and he certainly brings some valuable skills to the hunt.”

“I like him, too. But there’s something else. Yesterday, before you were poisoned, remember I didn’t leave your room until almost dawn?”

“Oh, I remember,” she breathed, the memory causing her blood to stir.

“Well, during the night someone searched my room.”

“What? Did he take anything?”

“No. That’s the strange part. It was as if he was simply looking around. Nothing was missing.”

“Do you think it might have been Lady Pomfry?” Even saying her name caused a vicious twist in Edwina’s middle and she pressed a hand to her tortured belly.

Prescott shook his head. “Daphne would have ravaged my room, not tried to put everything back in its place.”

“Are you sure someone searched? It wasn’t simply the maids?”

“Yes, I’m very particular about the page placement in my Bible. The special bookmark Headmaster Dunn
had given me had been moved.”

“A Bible-reading burglar?”

He shrugged with a smile. “Odder things have been known to happen.”

“So what do you think the searcher was looking—Lady Kendrick!”

Prescott straightened, still grasping Edwina’s hand.

The matron’s smile was apologetic. “Pardon my absence, but I just learned we have a new arrival. One who I’d been hoping would have arrived sooner. But he’s here now, so all is well.”

“Who is it?”

Lady Kendrick beamed. “The Earl of Wootton-Barrett. Your father.”

Edwina felt her stomach lurch, and it wasn’t the antimony salts.

“I must go make preparations. He waits in the parlor off the garden. If you will excuse me.” Turning, the matron strode from the room, her steps purposeful.

“Are you all right, Edwina?” Prescott crouched before her. “You look pale. Do you feel ill?”

“Yes. But no. It’s not the salts.” She shook her head, bewildered. “It’s just, well, I knew I’d have to face my father at some point. It was part of the plan. But I didn’t expect him to race halfway across the country to do it.” She bit her lip. “I thought I’d have more time…”

“He must be very upset,” Prescott muttered, adjusting his cravat as if it was too tight. His handsome face was marred with unease and his eyes were clouded with disquiet. “Are you going to tell him that it’s over?”

“No.” Shaking her head, she clutched his hand tighter. “No, I meant what I said, I want us to stay to
gether. Do…you?”

“Yes, of course, but breaking off the engagement was the plan. Then your father would be so relieved that you and I didn’t marry that he’d leave you alone.”

Rising, Edwina released his hand and moved to stand before the window. Staring out, she crossed her arms, hugging herself. “I think, well, I think that my plan was a bit…infantile. If I want to stand up to my father, then I need to do it and not hide behind a sham engagement or make up things that will detract from what I’m truly trying to do, namely stake my claim for independence. I’m a grown woman, for heaven’s sake. I need to start behaving like one.”

“But if you don’t break off the engagement, then your father will be furious.”

“I’ll not submit to his intimidation. His wants should not influence how I live my life. Mine should. And I’m not willing to let you go.”

“But at what cost?”

She looked up. “What do you mean?”

“He’s your father. You should keep peace between you.”

“Not at the risk of losing my sense of self.” She shook her head. “This isn’t about you, Prescott, it’s about me and my father. You’re simply the reason that brought me and my father face-to-face, but this stand is long overdue.”

“But can’t you see his side of it? He believes what he wants is best for you. That you should marry well, have a solid future…”

“Those are the very reasons why I married Sir Geoffrey, and I was miserable. Granted, our temperaments weren’t well suited, which bears witness to the fact that
my father doesn’t understand me, not one whit. Else he never would have chosen Sir Geoffrey for me.” Sighing, she rubbed her hand down her arm, to comfort herself. “But I suppose it’s to be expected. My father has never understood me, or what makes me happy. He’s always seen me as a bit of an oddity, someone to be ‘managed’ because of my ‘abnormal tendencies.’”

“He said that?” Shock shimmered in his emerald gaze, quickly replaced by anger. “‘Abnormal tendencies’?”

“Oh, yes and much more. Which is why I usually wind up crying and behaving in a somewhat immature fashion when he begins one of his diatribes. I feel like I’m eleven years old once more and he’s scolding me for liking to sit and talk with Nana, the woman who ran the dairy.”

“You’re not going to face him without me.”

She looked up. “Thank you, Prescott. But I can’t stand up for myself with you standing up for me. Does that make any sense?”

Stepping forward, Prescott clasped her hands. “I want to be your knight and protector, Edwina. For you I would slay dragons, including irascible earls.”

She smiled, touched by his gallantry and knowing that he meant every word. “This is one battle I must fight on my own, Prescott. It’s been mostly my fault for not facing my father sooner. It was easier to skirt around the conflict and not clash with him. I suppose in the same way that I went along with everything Sir Geoffrey and the dowager wanted. I let them either walk over me or influence my every step. It’s time for me to start walking on my own.”