The Countess (26 page)

It was at that moment, sitting in that austere, narrow room, holding letters of love, of intrigue, of politics, that I finally saw clearly, deeply inside myself. Those fading, yellowing letters were symbols of the mistake I had made. I had married a man who belonged to the century before—to the French Revolution, to the rise of Napoleon, to the great naval victories of Lord Nelson. I adored that world, for it held limitless fascination, but it was not real; it was not a part of my world.

Peter had been right. I had tried to escape my time, my world, by marrying a man who was too old to touch my heart, or my fears. I had chosen a man I believed would keep me free of fear, a man who would protect me just as my grandfather had protected me. Freedom and protection—now those were two things that hadn't applied since my first night in this house. I thought again of the irony of all this, but I couldn't accept it. I was a fool. All I could feel
was despair at my own folly. I had seen John, but I had not seen beyond him, until now.

I looked down at my hands. I had crumpled the edges of some of the letters from gripping them so tightly. Not good. I tried to smooth them back out. They looked well enough, I thought, then placed them neatly and carefully back into the drawer. I gently closed it.

The second drawer contained only writing materials and elegant stationery. I tugged at the third drawer. It was locked. I felt my heart begin to pound. Perhaps, just perhaps, at last I would find some answers. I pulled a pin from my hair, carefully inserted it into the lock, and twisted the pin gently. I slowly worked it back and forth. Nothing happened. I moved it more vigorously. The next instant the lock sprang lose, and a long narrow drawer slid open.

I'd done it. I sat there a moment just staring at that drawer. The drawer was empty save for one envelope. It was addressed to his lordship, the Earl of Devbridge, and it had been sent from London. I pulled out one piece of foolscap and smoothed it out on the desktop. I read:

 

8 December, 1817

My lord:

Edward Jameson has just arrived in London. I await your instructions.

Your obedient servant,

Charles Grafton

 

I just sat there staring down at those words. My father was in London, as of the eighth of this month. It was now the seventeenth of December. Where was
he? What was he doing? And most importantly, why did Lawrence care?

What bloody instructions? Why would Lawrence give instructions about my father to this man named Grafton? I read and reread the two lines, trying to make some sense out of them. It was no use. I had so urgently sought to find some clue, to discover the answer to this deadly game I was trapped in. Now the clue I had searched for was in my hand, and still I did not understand. Then I realized the date of the letter was only three days before someone had put that horrible barbed circle of wire under Small Bess's saddle.

I put the letter down and pressed my fingers against my temples. At least now I knew, knew that my father's warning was against Lawrence, my husband. That was why he was so shocked and dismayed at my marriage. But what had my father to do with all this?

I felt as though I were trapped in that marvelous maze at Richmond, only in this maze I didn't know if I would be able to find a way out.

I slowly placed the sheet of foolscap back into the envelope, and put it exactly in the same place it had been when I opened the drawer. There was just no away around it, my husband was the one who wanted to make me pay for all of it. But why? Why then did he marry me? What had I done to deserve his hate?

Was he also the evil that Lord Waverleigh had said still lived here? In the Black Chamber?

I stared about me. I had been here all too long. Someone might come in. I closed the drawer only to realize that I had to use the hairpin again to move
the inside little lever. I moved the pin back and forth until, finally, mercifully, the lock clicked back into place.

I quietly closed the small narrow door, and walked quickly out of his bedchamber. I had taken only three steps when I saw someone, the shadow of another person, and then they were gone, around the corner that led to a servant's staircase. I sincerely hoped it was Boynton, John's valet, keeping an eye on me. But if it was Boynton, why had he run? I heard a noise from just behind me. I whirled around so fast I nearly stumbled on my skirt and went down. Another shadow, a face, looking at me from around that corner, and now it was gone. I raced to the corner, around it, and dashed up another back staircase, calling out, “Who is there? Come back here. Damn you, who are you?”

N
o one answered. I stood there, heart pounding, wondering what the devil I was going to do now.

I quickly entered my room, and locked the door behind me. The Blue Room had never seemed so welcome. George looked up and wagged his tail for a bit before he took two drinks out of his water bowl and went back to his nap. I sat down in the winged chair close to the fire. It felt wonderful. I hadn't realized I was so cold, both on the inside and the outside. I stared into the flames. I wondered why Lawrence had married me and brought me here, to his home, only to terrorize me, to tell me that I would pay for all of it. I knew it involved my father, but how and what, I still had no idea. I had to see John. Perhaps he had learned something.

He wasn't in his bedchamber. He wasn't downstairs, either. No one had seen him. I could not find Boynton.

I didn't like this at all. I went slowly back to my bedchamber. Belinda was humming as she carefully
folded some of my chemises. She smiled when she looked up to see me. “Jasper took Mr. George for a walk, my lady,” she said. “Now, it is time for luncheon and aren't you just a sight? What have you been doing?”

“Just exploring,” I said, and closed the door behind me. I leaned against it a moment, closing my eyes. John, I thought, where are you?

I did what Belinda told me to do, and I thought and thought. I would go down to lunch. Why not? I would talk to everyone, and I would wait for John.

And then I would leave this place.

Belinda cleaned me up within the hour, and I walked downstairs to the dining room. Amelia and Thomas were there, and Miss Crislock. No one knew a thing about John.

Thomas said after he'd carefully chewed a bite of pork cutlet with tomato sauce, “I have decided that Amelia's father is right. I do not wish my aura to be weak and insubstantial, my shade to be indistinct, my otherworldly spirit to hover about powerless. I have decided that I will ignore my pains and illnesses. Even though at this very moment I can feel a very strange itch in the vicinity of my right armpit, I will pay it no heed. I know Amelia will worry, but I am determined.”

He leaned over and kissed her, right on the mouth, in front of all of us. Miss Crislock gave me one of her delightful crooked grins, and a wink.

I took a bite of my oyster patty.

Where was John?

Amelia said, “My love, tell me about this strange itch so I can know whether or not I should concern myself.”

Instead he kissed her again.

We laughed. I don't know where that laugh came from, but it came, full blown and charmed at the two of them.

Lawrence wouldn't be home until Christmas. I had more than enough time to make plans and execute them.

The afternoon passed quickly. I met with Mrs. Redbreast and discussed the servants, the state of the linens in the servants' rooms and the replacement of dishes in the kitchen. I planned menus with Cook. I complimented Brantley on George's training, although I wanted my old dog back. This new George who sat obediently until told otherwise just wasn't as much fun. I looked in on Small Bess. Her back and her hock were healing nicely.

It was late that afternoon when I visited Miss Gillbank and Judith in the nursery. I learned how to say good day in Greek.

It was then that Judith reminded me that I had promised her that she was supposed to dine with the adults for a full week. I had forgotten. My brain was weighted down with fear. Ah, this would be a diversion, one that I sorely needed. I smiled at this beautiful girl and told her I would speak to Mrs. Redbreast immediately so that Cook would make some Iced Charlotte for her dessert.

Actually, it was Brantley who agreed to see to the Iced Charlotte for Judith's dessert. I changed my clothes while Belinda fussed. I enjoyed her fussing. It made me feel safe, a feeling I knew well was an illusion.

I walked quickly down the main staircase, across
the Old Hall and into the main drawing room. I hoped John would be here.

I was smiling.

Then I froze.

There was my husband, his head bent as he listened to something Miss Crislock was saying. She was seated gracefully in a winged chair, Judith and Miss Gillbank sat opposite. Amelia was standing behind a high-back chair, twirling her glass between long graceful fingers, looking somewhat distracted. Neither John nor Thomas was there.

“Good evening, my dear.”

I didn't know what to do. Should I scream that my husband wanted to hurt me? Perhaps slice my throat? I just didn't know what to do, and so I wiped the fear off my face and smiled.

“What a wonderful surprise, sir. So very unexpected.” It was well-done, I thought. I knew I had managed to overlay any fear with lots of fresh excitement and pleasure at seeing him. What the devil was he doing here? He had just left early this very morning. I couldn't believe this.

Where the devil was John?

I stretched my hands toward him as he quickly placed his sherry glass on a table and walked over to me. He grasped my hands and leaned over to kiss my cheek, his warm breath fanning against my cheek. “Ah, my dear Andy, only a man who was an utter fool would not come home as quickly as possible with such a beautiful and very charming lady waiting for him.”

What did I do to you?
I wanted to ask him that so badly that I nearly had to bite my lip. Instead, what came out was “Lawrence, you just left. What
happened? Is there some sort of problem? Oh, yes you are also a dreadful deceiver, sir, all that flattery.” And I laughed, I truly managed to laugh.

He leaned over and kissed my cheek again. I didn't jerk away, but it was close. As he straightened, I looked directly up into his face. His eyes, I saw for the very first time, held no warmth at all. At least there was none directed at me. They were a cold gray, like hard steel. He was smiling as he looked back at me, and I shivered. What was he thinking? Planning?

I looked away and said my good evenings to everyone. Judith was so excited she could barely sit still. Miss Gillbank looked particularly lovely in a dark gold muslin gown of mine that Belinda had made over for her. It flattered her. As for Miss Crislock, she was tatting a scarf, by the looks of it, in her own special chair by the fireplace. A beautiful screen protected her from the heat. A book lay open in her lap, a gift, she had told me, from my dear husband.

“What are you reading, Miss Crislock?”

“Ah, my dearest Andy, it is a novel Lawrence thought I would enjoy. It is about a girl who is very bad indeed, but her parents are resolute and teach her the path of righteousness.”

“Oh, dear,” I said, and turned to Amelia. Lawrence believed she would enjoy that? “Where is Thomas? Don't tell me he has succumbed and is ill?”

“No, he walked up and down three flights of stairs ten times. He wants to make himself even more fit. I left him in his bathing tub, soaking away his sweat.”

I laughed, a healthy laugh, one that just came out, despite the fact that my husband was standing not
ten feet from me and I didn't have a clue what he was thinking.

“Lawrence,” I called down the table to him once we were all seated in the dining room, “you have not yet told us what happened to your trip. You left this morning, and now here you are back for dinner.”

“There was a simple misunderstanding. The men I was to meet with were coming here to see me. We conducted our business in Leeds. It is wonderful to be home. I even had time to do some shopping for Christmas gifts.” He was speaking toward Judith as he said this.

She immediately sat forward. “Would you perhaps like to tell us something of your shopping, Father?”

“Oh, no, you must wait, just like everyone else, including your lovely stepmother.”

“Has anyone seen John?” I asked after Brantley offered me some braised goose with celery sauce. I knew I would gag if I ate any of that goose.

“Didn't you know, Andy?”

I blinked at my husband. “Know what, sir?”

“John has gone to the Cockburns' weekend Christmas party over near Harrowgate. He wished to spend more time with Lady Elizabeth Palmer.”

I didn't say a single thing.

Amelia laughed. “Well, it is about time. John must needs consider marrying soon and setting up his nursery. Lady Elizabeth certainly charmed him.”

But he was only twenty-six, I wanted to say. Not at all old for a man. Naturally a woman of twenty-six—unmarried—was quite a different matter, an embarrassment, to say the least. Had Lady Elizabeth really charmed him?

“I like Lady Elizabeth,” said Miss Crislock. “She
is ever so lovely, and so very tall. John won't have to get a crick in his neck when he is speaking to her. What do you think, Lawrence?”

He shrugged then took a sip of his wine. “I trust that she will not take a lover until after she has bred him an heir.”

There was a heavy bit of silence until I cleared my throat. “I think Lady Elizabeth is charming. She is perhaps a bit imperious, but she is so beautiful, it would be difficult not to be. I do not believe she would be unfaithful were she to wed. After all, why marry in the first place if you planned to be unfaithful? It makes no sense. It is a disgusting thought.”

I had been too passionate, the age-old bitterness showing through, I knew it. Judith was staring at me across the table, and she was frowning. I tried to smile at her, to soften what I had said, but I couldn't. I sat there, saying nothing, waiting.

“We will see” was all my husband said. “Perhaps John will have better luck than most men.”

Amelia immediately went on to talk of Thomas's new exercise regimen.

“If he becomes as strong as John,” Miss Crislock said, “he will be formidable indeed. Thomas is already so beautiful, he sometimes makes even my ancient pulses flutter a bit.”

Amelia loved that.

“Yes,” I said, “Thomas is glorious.”

Amelia loved that even more. She turned to Miss Gillbank, ready to have more husband-praises heaped upon her head, and that lovely young woman said easily, “I have never in my life seen a more handsome gentleman nor one who was so very kind.”

I thought Amelia would begin to purr, she was so very pleased.

Dinner went on until finally Miss Crislock said, “Andy, my dear, don't you wish the ladies to go to the drawing room now?”

“An excellent idea,” said my husband, rising with me. “I wish to have Andy to myself this evening. I have to regain my self-respect. She trounced me at chess last evening. It is my turn for retribution.”

Amelia just stared at me. “I have seen Uncle Lawrence play. He has never been beaten.”

“Yes,” I said, looking at him straight on, “he has. I beat him.”

We would be in the study. He couldn't very well do anything to me in the study. After everyone went to bed, then I would act. I would be gone from here.

I realized, as I walked beside him to the study, after bidding everyone good night, that I wanted to play another chess game with him. I wanted to grind him into the dirt. Poor Judith. She, naturally, had not wanted the evening to end so quickly, but there was nothing I could do about that. The chances were that I would never see her again after tonight.

This time Lawrence pointed to my right hand. It held a white knight. I enjoyed playing black. I played the French Defense well.

He began with a king pawn opening, and I smiled as I moved my king pawn to king three.

“Ah,” he said, “the French Defense. I wonder just how well you will play it.”

“Very well indeed. It was my grandfather's favorite defense. As you realized last night, my grandfather taught me well,” I said, never looking up from the board. When it was his move, I looked at his
bent head, his dark hair streaked so gracefully with white. I wanted desperately to ask him about my father, but I kept my mouth shut. I just didn't know enough yet to do anything. Besides, I was alone here. All the servants were loyal to Lawrence. I had no idea about his wretched valet Flynt or if he had other villains hanging about the house.

No, I would keep my mouth shut, and then much later this night, I would leave. Besides, he did not know that I had searched his bedchamber and that small little monk's cell of his, or that I had found that letter about my father.