Dash of Enchantment
Page 19
“I never pretended to have, dear brother,” she responded sardonically. “So what is this leading up to?”
“Tell me where he is, and I will rid you of him.” Duncan was tense and expectant.
“You are quite mad,” she finally announced. “It is much too late to defend me. In all cases, even if you managed to win, you would be tried for murder or exiled, as he is. Put the matter out of your mind. Why don’t you help me put the farm back to work? There is money to be made here. We will not be wealthy, but we will not starve.”
Excitement crept into her voice as she allowed her secret hopes to creep out. If only he would accept this plan, they would be a real family, like the Scheffings. The excitement withered quickly enough beneath Duncan’s scorn.
“I’d rather starve.” He dismissed the offer out of hand. “You are married to a wealthy man. Someone is bound to take exception to his villainy sooner or later, and you will be a wealthy widow. Tell me where Rupert is, and I shall see that it is much sooner than later.”
Cassandra stared at him in horror.
~*~
Lotta noticed the horse first. Coming from the field, she had dawdled in the lane waiting for Jacob, and they had taken their time returning to the house and their chores. She tugged at Jacob’s hand to halt him.
“Who around here rides a nag like that?” she asked.
Jacob studied the object in question. “None that would admit to it. A sorry hack, if you ask me.”
Lotta gave him a disdainful look. “And what would you know of horses? You’ll be telling me next that you were a groom before you were a valet.”
“Actually, I was in the army before I was a valet. Not cavalry, mind you, but I’ve been around enough horses to recognize a sorry specimen when I see one.”
“Who would ride a hired hack out here?”
Jacob gave her an impatient look. “Wouldn’t it be easier to go inside and see?”
She turned on him as if he had lost all his wits. “Not if we need to get away again, it won’t. Come, let’s go around the back and see if we can hear their voices.”
Jacob led the way around the house to the kitchen door. Even from here the angry argument in the front room could be heard. The pair exchanged looks and crept through the kitchen.
“Duncan!” Lotta whispered, recognizing the enraged bellows. She clutched Jacob’s arm and pulled him back. “I knew the devil would demand his due.”
“You’d best warn his lordship. It won’t do to have him come up unexpected.”
“Aye, I’ll warn his lordship to bring his pistols,” Lotta replied grimly. “You go in there and see that my lady is protected. He’s a brute when he’s angry like that.”
Jacob’s stoic expression shifted, but his voice reflected only a solemn calm. “I’ll do as I can. Be quick, then.”
~*~
Cassandra looked up with relief when Jacob appeared bearing a tray and a decanter. She had rather he kept the brandy out of Duncan’s hands, but now that she was not alone, she felt safer.
“Thank you, Jacob. That was most thoughtful of you. My brother is undoubtedly weary from his ride. Would you see that a room is prepared for him?”
Duncan waited until the servant was gone before pouring the brandy. “That was Rupert’s valet. Are you still going to insist you know nothing of your husband’s whereabouts?”
Wearily Cassandra rose from the settee. “He came with me when I left London. Think what you wish. I must see about dinner. Jacob will show you to your room.”
By the time Lotta’s message reached Merrick, it was almost dark. Setting his jaw, Wyatt approached the dowager countess in her salon.
“We need to make an evening call, Mother. It seems Lord Eddings is in residence, and I have several things I need to discuss with him. You can see that it would be more appropriate if you accompanied me to visit with his sister while we talk business.”
Lady Merrick sniffed superciliously. “I can see nothing of the sort. I daresay she entertains single gentlemen every night of the week. I have nothing to say to her.”
“I had not realized you had grown so bored with the country, Mother,” Wyatt replied. “It is past time that I set you up with a house in town. You should have mentioned it much sooner. Perhaps Lady Cassandra could make recommendations as to the most fashionable streets. I have not kept up with them myself.”
The implied threat brought her nose up a little higher, but the countess knew when her bluff was called. “Very well, have the carriage brought around. I will not travel in that flimsy rig you gad about in.”
Cassandra gasped in surprise when Wyatt appeared at her door with Lady Merrick on his arm, but she held her curiosity and graciously beckoned the countess to the cushion beside her on the settee. Since Duncan had appropriated the only other chair in the room, she had an anxious moment in placing Wyatt, but he solved the dilemma.
“So sorry to intrude at this hour, my lady. I did not realize you had company, but this is a fortuitous occurrence. While my mother speaks to you of her reason for visiting, perhaps I can persuade your brother to speak privately with me for a moment on a matter of business?”
Cassandra panicked as she contemplated all the things that might be said between brother and lover. Duncan was looking bored and irritable and ready to entertain the notion of baiting Merrick.
She gestured to the servant waiting in the doorway. “You cannot think of deserting us for business at this hour of the evening, my lord. Jacob, bring a chair for his lordship, please.”
Wyatt appeared ready to object, but Cassandra turned gaily to the disapproving countess. “Men are such a trial, always business, I vow. We must take a stern stand on these matters, mustn’t we? Shall you have some tea? I understand you play whist very well. I have so longed for a good game. Perhaps we could persuade our men to a challenge?”
She knew Duncan was already sizing up his opponents and wondering how much he could cheat them of, but she saw no other option. She wouldn’t have Merrick harmed.
Merrick nodded in agreement and let her run the show. He concealed his amusement at his mother’s obvious approval of Cassandra’s handling of the cards. The women stayed several points ahead of the men, but he couldn’t catch Cassandra flagrantly cheating. For that matter, he couldn’t see Duncan using any sleight of hand either. For a brief few hours it almost felt as if they were meeting as families should meet.
Admittedly, he could not imagine a more preposterous combination of relations, but if it could work for one evening, it could work for many.
Just as Wyatt had almost come to terms with the family scene, Duncan smacked his hand against the table. The marquess had been imbibing steadily, but his lack of control had not surfaced until now.
“Cass, that deuce went out at the beginning! You swore you’d use none of your tricks with me. It’s an easy few shillings. What’s a few shillings to you and your toplofty friends?”
Cassandra gave a discreet signal to the hovering servant and spread her cards on the table. Without any apparent connection between gesture and action, Jacob spilled the brandy in a golden waterfall over her brother’s lap. At the same time, Cassandra rose and held out her hand to the countess.
“I believe we have trounced them enough for one evening, my lady.” Ignoring Duncan’s screams and curses as he danced back from the table and flailed drunkenly, she turned to Merrick, who had risen when she did. “I thank you for your company, my lord. It has been a pleasant evening. I do hope you will bring Lady Merrick again sometime. We will give you an opportunity to beat us. Perhaps we could set a handicap?”
The dowager gaped in astonishment as the servant made every appearance of removing Duncan’s saturated trousers right there and then. She gulped, stepped back, stared with horror at Cassandra’s outstretched hand and bright smile, then out of pure inbred courtesy accepted the offered hand and smiled perfunctorily.
“Of course, my dear, anytime. It has been a delightful evening. Come, Wyatt, we must
go.”
Cassandra followed them to the door, ignoring the brawl escalating behind her. As he left, Merrick bent over her hand and in a whisper murmured, “Shall I come back?”
For a moment, Cassandra clung to his hand. More than anything, she wanted Wyatt’s strength while she endured Duncan’s company. She didn’t want to be alone tonight, but she had done this to herself. She had wanted independence. Summoning her courage, she met his gaze squarely.
“It won’t do,” she answered, then turned away before he could see the tears in her eyes.
Chapter 20
“Who is that man out in the bushes?” Lotta whispered as she hurried in the back door with her basket of eggs.
Jacob glanced uneasily out the window. “I don’t know. He’s been there most of the night. Ugly big brute, ain’t he?”
“Should we tell Cass? She has so much on her mind...”
Jacob shook his head. “We’ll keep an eye on him. The marquess won’t be lingering, I’ll be bound. We’ll see if this brute goes with him.”
Angry voices carried down from the upper story, and Lotta grabbed a tray and a teapot. “They’re at it already. I didn’t think his royal-pain-in-the-arse would be up so early after last night.”
“He’ll be wanting to get away, I suspect.” Jacob shot Lotta’s full figure a quick look. “You stay away from him.”
Lotta flashed a smile. “After all these years, don’t you think I’ve learned a trick or two?” In flagrant imitation of her mistress, she tossed her hair and flounced out, a smile plastered on her face.
“You touch one single thing in this house and I’ll break it over your head before I let you have it! They’re not mine to give away. Now, leave off, Duncan.” Cassandra smacked her brother’s hand away from the lovely watercolor that Merrick had given her. He had said it was just a silly memento he had picked up on his Grand Tour, but she could tell from the way Duncan was eyeing it now that it had much more worth than that.
“I never begrudged you the coin to live, Cass. Now that I’m a little short of the ready, it wouldn’t hurt to part with a bauble or two. Did you come away with no jewelry at all? That was very shortsighted of you.”
Cassandra stamped her foot and flung a pillow at him. “Nothing, nothing at all! Shall I give you my gowns to sell? Would that make you happy, Duncan? I came here in rags. Shall you reduce me to rags again?”
The pillow missed Duncan and hit the door just as Lotta entered with the tea tray. She screamed and bobbled the tray and almost had it under control when Duncan turned abruptly to brush by her.
“Out of my way, slut.” He shoved past, careless of the teetering tray.
Emitting a feigned squeal, Lotta let the tray tilt. The teapot and its steaming contents tumbled in a scalding cascade down the marquess’s trousers while she cried and carried on and filled the air with her protestations of apology.
Jacob was up the stairs in an instant, his lanky frame seeming to stretch and tower like a malevolent giant as he burst in upon the scene. Already near tears, Cassandra could scarcely hold back her laughter as Duncan yelped, Lotta continued shrieking, and Jacob added his highly vivid invectives to the melee.
Scalded, Duncan cursed and fought with his trousers while Jacob rescued the remains of the tray. Clasping her robe closed, Cassandra gasped soothing phrases, but she was shaking too hard with laughter to make herself heard. She would have to reward her servants somehow. Duncan would think twice before intruding on her peace again.
To the conspirators’ surprise, a crash sounded below and heavy footsteps bounded up the stairs. Duncan had his shirttails down to his knees and his trousers about his ankles when the intruder burst through the door, nearly knocking Jacob into his lordship’s shoulders.
This time Cassandra screamed in truth as she spotted the great pistol in the stranger’s hand. Lotta’s cries instantly halted. Raising her tray, the maid slammed it down against the stranger’s hand.
The pistol exploded into the floor, the air reeked with sulfur and smoke, and the angry giant howled as he grabbed his bruised knuckles.
With the echoes of gunfire still ringing in their ears, no one heard the pounding of boots upon the stairs. Merrick and Bertie burst through the open doorway, brandishing whips and riding crops, then halted to survey the chaos in Cassandra’s bedchamber.
Cassandra, hair a riot about her shoulders, tears streaming down her cheeks, clutched her robe while she tugged a terrified Lotta from the hulking farmer’s angry howls. The men’s gazes then traveled to Duncan’s half-clad form as he and Jacob fought to overwhelm the intruder.
Raising one eyebrow at this bedlam, Merrick raised his eyebrow at an astonished Bertie. “I do believe we have just witnessed a circus rehearsal, old boy. Do you wish to tame the lions while I congratulate the lovely rope-walkers?”
“Wyatt!” Cassandra cried. “Do make them go away. They’ve put a hole in my lovely carpet. Just look at it! And the tea will stain if it’s not scrubbed at once.”
Mirth twitching the corners of his mouth, Merrick did as told. Only Cassandra could entertain a scene like this and worry about the carpet. With a firm hand he separated the marquess and the butler from the bodyguard he had ordered to watch the house. He shoved Duncan into Bertie’s protective custody.
“Make a habit of undressing before ladies, Eddings?” Wyatt asked coolly.
“Deuce take it, Merrick, what are you doing here?” Duncan grabbed for his trousers. “You’re showing quite an interest in my little sister, ain’t you?”
Cassandra gasped at Duncan’s irate accusation, but her brother didn’t seem to be cognizant of his accuracy. He gathered up his clothing and glared at Merrick, who blocked his escape.
“Sound tends to carry in the country, Eddings,” Merrick said without expression. “You’d best remember that before you send the ladies into hysterics again.” He bowed and stepped aside so Duncan could pass.
“I’ll wager no lady’s cries are heard from your chambers, St. Wyatt. Do you fear the sounds carrying or do you not know how to produce them?”
Bertie stepped in to prevent Merrick from striking him, but to his surprise, the earl merely smiled.
“I trust you have a pleasant journey homeward, Eddings. Shall I have Jenkins here escort you?”
Duncan brushed past him with fury, shouting at Jacob to follow and repair his ruined clothing. Jacob glanced from Wyatt to Cassandra, and at the earl’s faint nod, hurried after the marquess.
Wyatt bowed. “Excuse us for intruding, my lady. Shall we wait below until order is restored, or would you prefer that we leave?”
He was laughing, she could tell, but he had been concerned enough to leave one of his men to watch over her. Cassandra shook her head at Lotta and replied unsteadily, “If you would care to wait, perhaps we could provide you with some breakfast. Have you eaten?”
Calm restored some while later, Cassandra clung to Wyatt’s arm as she waved farewell to her disgruntled brother. Bertie’s presence inhibited her, but not enough to keep a formal distance. She felt Bertie’s curious glance when she continued to hold the earl’s arm even after they stepped outside for the men to claim their horses. She shouldn’t be so obvious, but she didn’t want Wyatt to leave. She desperately needed to talk to him.
Merrick covered her hand with his and cast her a worried look. As Bertie mounted, the earl murmured under the guise of saying farewell, “I’ll be back. Practice our song and pick me some roses and I’ll be here before you’re done.”
Cassandra breathed in relief and released him. “It was so good of you to stop by, my lord, And, Bertie, you will remember me to Thomas, will you not? I expect to see him up and about when next I come.”
Bertie grinned and raised his hand in salute, but when he and Merrick were down the road, he turned an angry glare at his old friend. “What the deuce plays here, Wyatt? I’m not some blind schoolboy. She holds a tendre for you, and if I’m not mistaken, you are encouraging her. That’s not at all like, you kn
ow.”
Wyatt stared stiffly ahead. “Sometimes I try to imagine what it must be like to have grown up knowing nothing but a drunken, abusive father and life on the thin edge of poverty. A person would have to learn to be very strong to survive such surroundings.”
Bertie studied him, then applied his own knowledge of life to the situation. “A person with a family like that would know nothing of love. She would be very weak when confronted with it.”
“Just so, Bertie, just so.” Merrick rode on ahead and said nothing further.
Wyatt found Cassandra wandering in the remains of the cottage rose garden when he returned. In these last six weeks or so that they had been together he had come to learn her many moods, but “pensive” had never been among them. He felt a momentary tug of fear as he watched her now. The visit from Duncan had obviously set off some unpleasant train of thought.
With foreboding, Wyatt trod through the overgrown garden. The fact that she was too absorbed in thought to notice his presence seemed even more ominous. He snapped a yellow rosebud from its scraggly branch and laid it on top of the blossoms in her basket.
Cassandra looked up then. Her fleeting smile of relief disappeared behind a cloud of apprehension. Gathering up her basket and scissors, she started down the garden path, away from the cottage.
“I need your help, Wyatt.”
“You know you have it without asking, Cass. Just tell me what I can do.”
Instead of sending him her usual flirtatious look of gratitude, she glared straight ahead. “Can you have your man of business find Rupert for me?”
Wyatt’s heart plunged to his feet. He caught her shoulder and swung her around. “Why, Cass?”
“Does it really matter, Wyatt? You need a wife and we can never marry. It’s been unfair of me to even pretend otherwise. If you cannot help me with this, I will understand.” She turned back and hurried toward the house.
Fighting a growing desperation, Wyatt caught her again. This time he held her close, forcing her to feel the power of the emotions that brought them together. She shivered, then melted against him. He embraced her tightly when she rested her head against his shoulder.