Abandoned to the Prodigal, page 20
“Speak,” her lord commanded. “If the letter is from Juliet, they had better know.”
“She has gone,” the countess whispered. “You should not have spoken to her as you did, pushed her as you did!”
“Gone where?” Cosland demanded, snatching the letter from his wife’s hand.
For the first time since coming here, Barden began to feel control slipping from his grasp. This was like Brightoaks and Hazel Curwen all over again. He could not afford to lose another stage of his plan, not this stage.
“She does not say.” The countess sniffed and reached for her handkerchief. “But we know all her friends in the neighborhood, so…” She broke off, her eyes widening. “Oh, Cosland, she would not have gone back to London, would she? She has friends there…”
“At this time of year? Who?” Cosland demanded.
“Meg Winter for one, and you know she will feel they are in the same boat.”
They are, Barden thought savagely.
“She would not go to London,” Cosland said impatiently. “She is not so foolish, or so rich in coins! She is somewhere close by, and we will bring her home directly.” He stared down his nose at Barden and Jeremy. “I take it this minor delay makes no difference to either of you? For we are all responsible for her flight.”
“I will stand by her,” Catesby declared.
Barden couldn’t help laughing, “As you did before?”
“No, as I will from now on,” Catesby claimed.
“My offer stands,” Barden said and walked out of the room, proving he was sure of himself, when in fact, those little doubts were back. He should not have pushed her as he did last night, but damn, it was so irresistible. And she would not choose Catesby. Her father wouldn’t let her, not when Barden told them in detail about the alternative to marrying him.
As he strolled across the hall, he was gratified to hear servants being sent out to various neighbors with discreet inquiries.
Wretched girl, she will pay for this. And Cosland will keep paying!
Chapter Eighteen
Lord Myerly was as good as his word and joined his somewhat alarmed family for the evening meal. He sat at the head of the table in an old-fashioned evening coat, smelling vaguely of mothballs, and Juliet was given the place of honor on his right.
“Good to see you so much better, sir,” Colin said politely.
“I believe I’m on the mend.” The old gentleman’s eyes widened with something approaching horror as he saw the size and number of the dishes being set on the table.
Since servants were few in the house, the dishes, much fewer than Juliet was used to, especially for nine people, were placed on the table, leaving the family to help themselves.
“Living like princes,” his lordship muttered, ladling soup into his bowl. “No wonder you’re hanging about here instead of going home!”
“Always so hospitable,” murmured Hugh in a faintly fawning voice, although Juliet suspected sarcasm.
Judging from the smile flickering on Dan’s face, so did he.
Lord Myerly, however, seemed perfectly unaware. He sneered whenever Hugh opened his mouth, snapped at his daughters and Colin, argued with Dan, and ignored Mr. Ames. He condescended to make conversation with Juliet, although this generally took the form of abrupt questions.
“I suppose you have several more courses for dinner at Hornby?”
“It depends if we have guests,” Juliet replied diplomatically.
“Who is it your sister is betrothed to?”
“Mr. King, from—”
“I know the family. Bit of a comedown for the Lilbournes, isn’t it? Thought your father would have done better for her.”
“Mr. King is Kitty’s choice,” Juliet said firmly.
He might not have heard her. “But then, he’s made a few bad decisions recently. Placed you with the Princess of Wales. Ha!” He reached for the plate of beef.
From the master of the house, each dish tended to circulate to Juliet and around the table to Jenny Stewart on his other side. Which meant there wasn’t always a great deal left by the time the dishes reached Hugh and Mrs. Stewart. Juliet suspected he had arranged matters that way.
By the time of the beef course, Dan clearly had decided to speed things up. Seated farthest down the table opposite his uncle Ames, he began seizing on some of the vegetable dishes and offering them first to his Aunt Hetty beside him. Which caused the first smile Juliet had seen on Ames’s face, even though it meant he and Dan split meager leavings. If Lord Myerly noticed, he chose not to mention it.
“The Kings,” Juliet said, “are one of the oldest and most respected families in Yorkshire. They were here before the Lilbournes and the Myerlys.”
“Defensive, aren’t you?” his lordship observed. He seemed amused. “No need. No one could accuse your sister of a mésalliance.”
“Indeed, I would hope not,” Colin murmured, passing the mushroom dish on to his mother, who took a spoonful and pushed the rest on to Mr. Ames. For once, there seemed to be enough left to serve everyone.
Juliet found it something of a relief when the meal came to a close. Mrs. Cornwell rose to signal the departure of the ladies, a duty which should have been performed by the eldest daughter as hostess. Mrs. Stewart, however, did not appear to object. Scandal, clearly, had demoted her, which was something for Juliet to consider.
By running here, she had avoided marriage with the only men who could save her tarnished reputation. She tried to envisage a time with her mother gone and Kitty taking precedence over her. It seemed so distant and so unimportant that she really couldn’t care.
Instead, she curtseyed to the baron and left the table. As she walked out of the dining room, Susan followed with a heavy tray full of dirty crockery and glass.
“Susan,” she murmured, “Did you see Sergeant Owens?”
“Ran down before dinner, my lady. I don’t know why he’s come. He shouldn’t have come… And there’s my mother now, back at the Black Cat in Kidield!” Flustered and clearly unhappy, the girl scuttled off, considering the weight of her tray, Juliet did not try to keep her. But Susan’s distress bothered her. She hadn’t liked the sergeant’s aggression.
What if Sergeant Owens was shooting at me, thinking I was Susan walking out with Dan? Annoyed with her own speculations, she did her best to banish them.
Away from Lord Myerly, the drawing room was a little more relaxed.
“I hope my father did not offend you by the way he spoke of your sister,” Mrs. Cornwell said, sitting beside Juliet on the sofa.
“Of course not,” Juliet replied politely.
“He has grown too used to saying exactly what he pleases,” Mrs. Cornwell mourned. “And in truth, he often speaks for effect, to create an argument. For example, suddenly announcing Dan was his heir, just to see if it would cause friction between us.”
“There is a little more to it than that, Tabby,” Mrs. Stewart said mildly. “He did make Dan his heir. It’s in his will.”
Mrs. Cornwell bridled. “Well, if you imagine he won’t change it again before the end of the month and for no good reason, you are deceiving yourself! Is she not, Hetty?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Mrs. Ames said apologetically. “It’s true he doesn’t like Hugh, but he’s as likely to choose him just to annoy Colin as the other way about…”
It had struck Juliet already that someone in the family could actually have shot at Dan. Her mind still rather boggled at the idea—unless it was a moment of frustration, designed simply to frighten? Well, she was frightened, however Dan felt.
On the other hand, she couldn’t actually imagine the very proper Colin or the dandy Hugh, let alone Hugh’s ineffectual father, risking murder for the dubious pleasure of inheriting a neglected estate hundreds of miles from London.
“Oh, dear,” Hetty murmured as they heard the sounds of voices and footfalls approaching the drawing room.
Tabetha cast her a glance of annoyance and squared her shoulders. They really were frightened of their father. And yet, they stayed here when they had his leave to depart.
“Be easy,” Hugh said blandly, entering the room just ahead of Colin, who appeared to be lecturing Dan. “His lordship has retired without apology. Waits and Griffin are heaving him up to his chambers.”
“Hugh,” his mother protested. “Don’t be so flippant, my love.”
Hugh went over to pat her shoulder. Mrs. Cornwell stood up, and Colin sat smoothly in her place. To Juliet, it almost seemed rehearsed—and in fact, had something very similar not happened at Hornby? She laughed at herself for imagining such a thing. He certainly seemed to have nothing important to say, for he made mere small talk for the first ten minutes, and Juliet’s eyelids grew heavy. She had not slept last night, and she began to fear she would give offense by dozing off.
Fortunately, Dan sat at the ancient harpsichord by the window, idly testing how far out of tune each note sounded. The discords were enough to keep her on the edge of her seat.
Then, when the others were distant enough not to overhear either, Colin said quietly, “You were out for a long time with Daniel.”
“And Gun,” she reminded him.
“He is a large dog,” Colin allowed with a quiver of distaste. “I imagine he requires a good deal of exercise. But that is Daniel’s business, you know. You need not accompany him. In fact, I did want to just drop a word of warning.”
“About what?” she asked, keeping her voice pleasant while she hoped he read the quelling message in her eyes.
He didn’t. “About Daniel. I would hate your reputation to suffer while you are our guest. And it is unconscionable of him to put you in this position.”
“What position?”
“Of imagining yourself beholden to him or any of us. It is obvious he has made himself agreeable to you since coming to Yorkshire, but I imagine you know nothing of his previous life. He does not really move in our circles.”
“So I believe,” she said, allowing boredom into her voice.
“But you should know, my lady, he is not at all the thing.”
She smiled brittlely. “I have become bored by the thing.”
He smiled as though acknowledging a child’s attempt at a joke. “Truly, ma’am, he is my cousin, and I am the first to admit he can be amusing and charming. But I cannot in conscience let you live in ignorance of his true character.”
Ignoring her freezing gaze, he leaned closer. “I imagine he did not tell you how he lost his only respectable position as a tutor? He…er…compromised his pupil’s sister. Barely sixteen years old. The girl had to be sent abroad, and that is why no one else will employ him. I don’t tell you this to be cruel but to warn you not to trust him, especially not in the difficult situation you currently find yourself. You have no parent in this house to look after you, but I beg you will look on my mother and myself as your friends and protectors.”
“Thank you.” She jumped to her feet only because she couldn’t be still in the face of his disturbing revelations. “You are very kind.” She flitted across to the window and pulled the curtain back as though gazing out at the night. In fact, she merely wanted to be away from Colin, though it was not so easy to escape her agitating thoughts.
She could not believe Colin’s tale, and yet, had Dan not hinted at something unsavory about his dismissal from his post? At their very first meeting at the Golden Cross in London?
No, she could not imagine Dan behaving in such a criminally careless way… Which did not mean the seduction never happened, it just meant it wasn’t quite as Colin described it. Either way, she was appalled to find jealousy and curiosity among her tangled emotions. If nothing else, Colin’s warning served to remind her that she had not yet known Dan for a fortnight. And she had always recognized the charm of his easy-going, friendly manners.
Perhaps friendships meant little to him. Certainly, he hadn’t wanted to pretend engagement to her to help her out of this mess. Although he had done everything else to help her, she reminded herself.
It was difficult to think straight when she was so tired. Abruptly, she swung away from the window and saw Dan gazing at her. One eyebrow twitched upward, asking what was wrong. Every instinct urged her to trust this man, whatever he had or hadn’t done in the past.
A frown began to tug at his brow. He stood and began to walk toward her. But how could she talk to him about this? Instead, she swung hastily around to his mother.
“Forgive me, but I think I need to retire for the night. I did not sleep at all last night, so…”
“You must be exhausted,” Mrs. Stewart said kindly.
“I’ll ring for one of the maids to attend you,” Mrs. Cornwell added, pulling the bell.
Juliet managed to smile and curtsey to the room in general before fleeing to the sanctuary of the little bedchamber on the half-landing. Forcing her tired mind to concentrate on Susan’s issues, she sat down on the bed and tried to compose her questions about the maid’s old and new lovers, and about any communication she had with Mrs. Harper.
But when she answered the door to a respectful knock, it was an older maid, Betty, who bustled in and set about drawing back the bed covers and lighting the bedside lamp from the candle.
“I thought it would be Susan who came,” Juliet said, turning her back so that Betty could unfasten her gown.
“Susan is not well, my lady. We had to send her to bed with a bucket.”
“Oh, dear! Have you sent for the doctor?”
“Oh no, my lady,” Betty said comfortably. “It will just be the stomachache, over by morning. She shouldn’t have eaten all those mushrooms, and so I told her while she was bolting them down. But young folk never listen to their betters.”
If Juliet had listened to her elders and betters, she would be betrothed now to Jeremy or halfway to London in order to marry the unspeakable Lord Barden. But she merely smiled noncommittally.
“Give my best wishes to poor Susan and let me know if I can help. Thank you, Betty, you may go.”
Betty curtsied and left, and Juliet climbed into the big, cold bed. She blew out the candle and snuggled down. The sheets smelled fresh, the pillows seemed to hug her, and in no time, she sank into a deep, grateful sleep.
*
Lord Barden had waited a long time to see the Earl of Cosland look as worried as this. However, Barden was supposed to be the cause of this anxiety, not the hoyden of a girl who had, apparently, flown the nest.
“She wrote that she was going somewhere safe,” Albright, Cosland’s son and heir said, with a hint of impatience. “I don’t see why you’re so worried.”
“Because her idea of safe may not be mine,” the countess snapped. “And because it is not right that she is not in her own home, particularly just now.”
Her son shrugged. “I’ll ride out and look for her again,” he offered.
The countess flapped one dismissive hand. “There is no point.”
“There, you see?” Lady Kitty said brightly. “You do not really believe she is alone in a ditch somewhere! You know she is safe with friends.”
“With respect, Kitty, that isn’t really the point,” Catesby piped up. As if he still had any stake in the girl.
The drawing room door opened, and a footman brought a silver tray with a folded paper on it to the earl. Everyone sat up straight. Cosland almost snatched the note, broke it open, and scanned it.
“Well?” Lady Cosland demanded.
“She isn’t with the Haretons either.” Cosland dropped the note, which fluttered to the floor.
“I’m afraid you will have to produce her tomorrow,” Barden said, angrily, for the girl was upsetting his schedule. “I have an important appointment in Cheshire.”
“No one is standing in your way,” Catesby retorted.
“Enough,” Lady Cosland pronounced, but when they both glanced at her in surprise, she was not talking to them, but to her daughter. “Kitty, she may not have told you where she was going, but you know.”
“Of course, I don’t,” the girl protested. “But if I were you, I would heed her letter, which told you not to worry and that she has gone somewhere safe.”
“Kitty,” her father said sternly, “if you know something…”
“I do!” the girl exclaimed. “I know that you are all responsible for this, blaming her for something that you must have known she had not done and was not responsible for and then hounding her to make sickening reparations that drove her to this!”
Everyone regarded Lady Kitty open-mouthed, from which Barden gathered that such outbursts were not common.
Only her brother’s expression was admiring. “Well said, Kit,” he approved.
“Perhaps,” Lady Cosland said sternly. “But now is not the time for lectures. Your sister is endangering herself, and it is imperative we know where she went. You must see this damages her, makes everything worse for her, for all of us.”
“I see she had no other choice,” Lady Kitty muttered. “Though she said nothing to Ferdy or to me.”
“But you suspect.” The countess actually rose and went to her daughter, taking both her hands. “I hoped to discover myself without forcing you to betray your sister’s confidence. But that time has passed. You are not helping her, Kitty. Don’t be responsible for this further ruin. If you have any idea where she might have gone, you have to say.”
Her brother sighed. “I think you do, Kit. She’s punished them enough.”
Barden held his breath while the siblings exchanged pained looks, and the mother didn’t take her eyes off her daughter. Cosland looked as if he were about to explode, and for once, Barden knew exactly how he felt.
Kitty closed her eyes. “I don’t know this. But I think she has come to regard Daniel Stewart as the only friend who would not let her down. I think she would turn to him for help. And it would be the one place you would never even think to look for her. I think she has gone to Myerly.”
Several seconds of silence passed, much to Barden’s bewilderment.
“Who the devil is Daniel Stewart?” he demanded.
