Wicked Earl Seeks Proper Heiress (28 page)

“Averil?” Beth had come out of the parlor unnoticed.

“Oh.” She looked at the letter, about to tell Beth what she’d just read, but Beth wouldn’t let her speak.

“James Blainey is here, Averil.”

Averil finally noticed her companion’s flushed face and bright eyes, her smile that was in turn excited and guilty. And then James Blainey came up behind her, his face wearing the exact same look, and suddenly it all made sense.

“We’re getting married,” Beth blurted out.

“Married?” Averil gasped.

“Oh, my dear, I hope you don’t think I’m being disloyal.”

“Of course she doesn’t think that,” James said. “Averil only wants your happiness, my love.”

Averil realized that Beth was anxious because she might see her news as treachery. “Oh, Beth,” she said, and reached out to hug her. “I don’t think you’re disloyal at all! Of course you must marry James. Congratulations, and to you, too, James.”

James gave her a smile. He looked rather rumpled, as if he’d just arrived from Southbrook Castle, and that made her wonder if Eustace was in London, too, somewhere. And if Rufus knew.

“I must go back to the Mayfair house and tell Eustace the good news,” James said, answering one of her unspoken questions. He hesitated, not quite meeting her eyes. “Have you seen my nephew?” he asked tentatively.

Beth lost some of her glow; clearly she had not forgiven Rufus. “Is the earl here in London, too?”

“I have seen him. Briefly,” Averil replied evenly. “Will you stay for supper, James?”

But James had to return to Eustace, and Averil left them to say their good-byes and went upstairs with her letter.

With a sigh she sat down on her bed. So much had happened today, so much good had been done, there was no time to be sad. She smoothed out the letter and read it again. What if Violet was her sister? The more she considered the idea, the more solid it became.

But Sally Jakes had said Violet was her daughter and Averil didn’t know how she could find out the truth after all these years.

R
ufus stood in the doorway, watching as Sally answered the police inspector’s questions. She was putting most of the blame onto Jackson, but Rufus knew that Jackson was doing the same to her.

The inspector glanced up and nodded to him, and Rufus came and leaned against the desk, folding his arms and giving Sally a long look.

“Violet,” he said. “Your daughter.”

Sally gave him a smile, but he sensed a tension in her that wasn’t there before. “What about Violet, Lord Southbrook? Does she take your fancy?”

He smiled back as if he hadn’t heard the insult. “Tell me, Sally, was Violet born while Lady Anastasia was at The Tin Soldier?”

Sally’s smile died abruptly. “What business is it of yours?” she snapped.

“I don’t think Violet is your daughter. I think Violet is the sister Lady Averil has been searching for.”

Sally snorted a laugh. “You’re talking rot, your lordship.”

“I don’t think so. Violet looks very like Lady Anastasia, according to my uncle, who knew her. And Lady Averil’s old nanny, who is still alive, will be able to confirm that. Come on, Sally, tell the truth for once in your life. Why did you take Violet and keep her? The Arnutts would have paid you handsomely for her. Why didn’t you offer her to them? Explain to me, Sally. If you do”—and he leaned closer, his dark gaze fixed on hers—“I’ll make sure you get a nice cell all to yourself.”

The inspector cleared his throat and stood up. “I’ll leave you to it then, Lord Southbrook,” he said. “Best I’m not a party to any conversation you have with Mrs. Jakes here.”

Sally watched him leave. “I’m not going to jail,” she said with a defiant stare.

Rufus shook his head at her. “Oh, but you are. Jackson will see to it, Sal. He’s singing like a bird right now. The only thing you can do is help me and allow me to help you.”

She looked away. He could see she was considering his offer but he was surprised when a tear rolled down her cheek, and then another. “She’s mine and I love her!” The tears might be to gain his sympathy, not that he had any for her, or perhaps they were for her own sake, and she had convinced herself of her lies all these years.

“I’m sure you do.” As much as Sally Jakes could love anyone.

“I wouldn’t ’ave given her away, even if Anna ’adn’t asked me to look after ’er when she died. Anna didn’t want the Arnutts to ’ave her. She said they’d only turn the child against ’er. She wanted me to ’ave her.”

Rufus wondered if that was true, or whether Sally had been so jealous of Anastasia she’d wanted the one thing the other woman loved so fiercely she’d refused to give her up.

“Thank you, Sally,” he said quietly.

“There’s something more.” Sally’s eyes had regained a little of their defiance. “Anna left a letter for ’er girls. I-I never gave it to ’em, but they may as well ’ave it now.”

“A letter?”

“It’s at the Soldier. In the ledger for 1830. I kept it there. Give it to ’em, will you? I always felt guilty about keeping it.”

But not guilty enough to be honest, Rufus thought wryly. “Very well, Sally.”

Sally nodded and another tear trickled down her cheek, but perhaps that was just more self-pity.

He turned away to hide the glitter of triumph in his eyes. Because now he had the thing he had promised Averil he would find for her. Her sister’s name. And better still, a letter from her mother. He could go to her and this time when he asked her to marry him she would say yes.

R
ufus stood a moment at Averil’s door. There were lights inside the house and he knew they were home, even if James hadn’t told him so when he’d returned from the police house. His uncle had been over the moon, gabbling about Beth and how happy he was. Eustace was there, too, and Rufus mentioned dryly that he believed they had promised him they’d stay at the castle, but both his son and his uncle were practiced prevaricators.

“Have you seen Averil yet?” Eustace demanded, when James had finally run out of things to say.

“I’m seeing her tonight.”

Eustace nodded, giving him a narrowed look. “You’ll need to smarten yourself up a bit, Papa.”

Rufus, who was still wearing his disguise, agreed.

Now here he was, clean and smart, looking every inch an earl, and he still hesitated to ring the bell. When he thought of the expression in Averil’s eyes, as she stood looking up at him in that dingy kitchen at The Tin Soldier, he was hopeful that everything would turn out the way he wanted it to. But then he remembered the scene at the castle, when she had walked away from him, and was cast into doubt once more.

If her answer hadn’t meant so much to him he wouldn’t be so anxious. The thought of a life without her in it was almost unbearable. With a soft groan he finally reached up and rang the bell.

The maid opened the door and peered up at him.

“Lord Southbrook to see Lady Averil,” he said brusquely. “I have some important news for her.”

“Oh. Lord, eh. I’ll just . . .” And she hurried off. Rufus sighed, expecting to be told to go away, but she was back a moment later, informing him that Lady Averil would speak to him in the parlor and to please follow her.

There was a fire in the parlor and a lamp turned down low on a side table. He removed his hat and coat, and then went over to the hearth to stare into the flames. She was going to speak to him then, at least that was something. Although listening to him might be another matter entirely.

He recognized her steps approaching, and then the door opened and there she was. She was wearing a plain blue dress with a single row of lace at the neckline, and her hair was fashioned into a simple knot on top of her head. But then she didn’t need adornments; she was beautiful enough without them.

“Lord Southbrook,” she said, and he thought she was struggling to sound as if she didn’t find it surprising he had called upon her at such an odd time.

“Lady Averil.” He bowed. “I have something to tell you and I thought you would want to hear it as soon as possible.”

She tipped her head slightly to the side, searching his face with her straight, clear gaze. Oh God, how he had missed that look. How he had missed
her
.

“What is it?”

“I’ve found your sister, Averil.”

She blinked, and then she smiled. “It’s Violet,” she said.

“How did you know?” He was surprised and perhaps a little peeved that his grand gesture had fallen flat. “Sally Jakes has only just confessed it to me.”

Averil reached into the pocket of her dress and drew out a folded letter, handing it to him. He took it and slowly unfolded it, watching the firelight flicker over her face, reflecting the gold specks in her gray eyes. He took a moment to cast his gaze over the appalling writing, but he was able to read enough to understand what had happened.

“Sally admitted it at the police house,” he said, returning the letter. “Violet was your mother’s child and she asked Sally to care for her, according to Sally. Anastasia was afraid Percival Arnutt’s parents would turn the child against her, at least that’s what Sally says. I think she just wanted something of your mother’s, either because she was jealous of her or because she loved her. Both, perhaps.”

Averil sighed. “I’m so glad I know now. I’m so glad I’ve found her. And do you know,” she added, leaning toward him in a confidential manner, “I like her. She’s a brave and good girl, she cares about other people, and she wants to help them. And I can help her to do that. If she’ll let me,” she added wryly. “I think Violet is the sort of person who may object to me wanting to share my inheritance. She’ll see it as charity.”

Rufus laughed softly. “You’ll be able to persuade her.”

She smiled back. “I hope so.”

“Actually I have something for you and Violet. From Sally.”

He removed the crumpled, folded sheet of paper from his pocket. Averil took it as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. She straightened it gingerly and held it to the light. Her gaze ran down the lines to the signature at the bottom and her eyes widened.

“Oh.”

“Your mother wrote it before she died, Averil. Sally kept it all these years.”

Averil didn’t seem to hear him. She had begun to read.

“My dear ones, forgive me. I did not realize when I ran away with Percy that I would not have the chance to make matters right. That things could go so very wrong so quickly. I suppose it is what I deserve. But I loved him so, and I was always one to follow my heart. Averil, I should never have married your father. There I erred. We were so different and I think I believed his sober influence would steady me. Instead I felt suffocated. Forgive me. And Rose, my baby, think of me sometimes and know my biggest regret now is leaving you without your mama. I have asked Sally to care for you and to tell you every day about me, so you don’t forget. Forgive me, my girls, and think of me sometimes as I will think of you, always.

“Anastasia.”

Averil’s eyes were filled with tears. She blinked and then wiped the tip of her finger beneath her eyes. She took a deep, steadying breath.

There was a pause, but before he could launch into the other reason for his being there, Averil spoke again.

“Thank you for coming to tell me. Thank you for letting me read my mother’s last thoughts. You’ve done exactly as you promised. I’m grateful. And the Home,” she hurried on, looking away, fiddling with the buttons on her sleeves. “If you hadn’t found out what Jackson and Sally Jakes were up to . . . well, we might have lost many more women.”

“Averil . . .”

“And Gareth was so worried, what with everything else that has been happening. The baroness. And then—”

“Averil, stop. There’s something else I want to say.”

She froze, her lips parted, her eyes wide. “Some-something else?”

T
he way he was looking at her was making her agitated, and she’d been so calm up until now. Even when she read that heartbreaking letter. His dark eyes slid over her face, pausing on her lips as if he wanted to kiss her. Averil tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was
she
who wanted to kiss
him
. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and kiss him and let him touch her as he had the day of the storm.

There had been times since then when she’d awoken in the night, aching for his touch in a way that made her want to weep, wanting to hold him and say all the things to him that were in her heart. And now here he was, in the flesh, and she was struggling to keep her distance.

“Averil,” he said, and his voice dropped into that deeper register that sent tingles over her skin. “We parted at the castle in a way that has troubled me ever since.”

He was going to apologize. Averil felt her spirits sink. He felt sorry for her and now that his uncle was marrying Beth he wanted to be on good terms with her. Distant acquaintances. She really couldn’t bear it.

“There’s no need,” she said briskly. “I like to think that is all past and we can move on with our lives. Our separate lives.”

“Our separate lives?”

She stood up. She couldn’t seem to sit still anymore. And besides, she might begin to cry in a ridiculous manner, and then he’d feel the need to comfort her and she might well do something reprehensible. Like kiss him.

He stood up, too, and took her hands. He held them tightly to still her fidgeting. He was very close suddenly, and her heart was beating so quickly she wondered if it would leap out of her chest.

“Averil, I am selling the castle. I am selling the house in Mayfair. We’ve agreed between us, James and Eustace and me. The money is no longer important to me.”

“Oh.” It was all she could manage. His lovely castle! How could he bear to give it up, and why was he?

“Marry me, Averil. I love you. I love
you
. I don’t want your money, I never did. James talked me into the whole thing, and although I went along with it, I was always worried it would come back to haunt me. I fell in love with you and then you found out about the debts, and you thought I only wanted you for your fortune. I don’t.”