by Sandra Heath
Linnet felt numb as she watched from the secrecy of the wardrobe. It was like looking at a stranger, for he wasn’t the Benedict she knew and thought so well of. His face was flushed with desire, but in a way that told her he believed that that desire was about to be satisfied, and his hands moved over the Cyprian in a knowing, practiced manner.
Judith pulled suddenly back from the kiss, glancing around the dimly lit room again. “I know you’re in here, Miss Carlisle, so there’s no point in hiding. It’s all up with you and with your fine betrothal! He’s mine, and he’s going to stay mine.”
Benedict leapt away from her as if scalded the moment she uttered Linnet’s name, and his eyes were almost haunted as he whirled around, expecting to see Linnet looking accusingly at him. But there were only shadows and emptiness.
Neither of them looked toward the dressing room, and at that moment Nicholas found what he was urgently seeking at the rear of the wardrobe, a hidden catch that released a secret door. Snatching Linnet’s hand, he pulled her through into the narrow staircase beyond, quietly closing the secret door again.
It was very dark in the confined space which Judith’s more circumspect and important admirers were accustomed to using for their visits. Still stunned by what she now knew, Linnet stumbled a little on the steep steps, and Nicholas paused, steadying her, “Are you all right?” he asked in a low whisper that echoed eerily.
“I—I think so.”
“The steps lead down to the garden, and the door at the bottom is usually kept locked from the inside, unless Judith is expecting someone in particular. It was locked when I tried it earlier.” Still holding her hand he led her on down toward the door. There, he paused, listening carefully. The muffled sound of the ball was just audible through the thick walls, but from beyond the door all seemed quiet. He’d hardly dared hope to find the key in the lock, but to his relief it was. He turned it, and opened the door. It was still raining outside, and there was a strong smell of wet grass and earth.
A light suddenly appeared at the top of the steps behind them, and with a cry Linnet turned to see one of the footmen standing there with a lighted candle. Their search for Judith had ended when a guest informed them she’d been seen going up the staircase, and now they knew Nicholas had tricked them.
Nicholas needed no prompting, but stepped quickly out into the rain-soaked darkness, dragging her with him. They ran across the grass, Linnet’s flimsy slippers slithering unsteadily. Tears were blinding her. She’d been cruelly deceived again. Benedict was Judith’s lover, just as Nicholas had been before him, and for the second time, she, poor fool, had guessed nothing! A sob caught in her throat, and she almost lost her footing.
The coach house loomed ahead now, torrents of rain spilling from its roof and gushing down the drainpipes. A deep puddle had formed before the door, and her skirt dragged through it as Nicholas pulled her inside, closing the door firmly behind them.
He didn’t pause to see if she was all right, but continued to drag her toward the mews lane. In a moment they were out in the rain again, and he was bundling her roughly into the waiting carriage. The startled coachman prepared to drive off, cracking the whip the moment Nicholas ordered him to drive to Carlisle House and then jumped swiftly inside himself.
Judith’s footmen emerged into the lane just as the whip cracked, and they made to block the vehicle’s way, but the coachman knew what was expected of him and urged the team to greater effort. The footmen fell back in alarm as the carriage swept past, and had to content themselves with shouting after it, brandishing their fists.
Linnet was so distraught that she hardly knew where she was. She only knew that Nicholas was putting his arms around her, murmuring her name. She hid her face against the damp cloth of his shoulder, the hot tears stinging her eyes.
Chapter 24
As the carriage sped away from Portman Street, in Judith’s room all was strained and quiet. The merriment of the ball continued unabated downstairs, but Benedict hardly heard it as he stood dazedly with his hand resting on a table. His head was bowed, and he could scarce believe what had happened.
Judith was by one of the windows, holding the curtain aside as she watched her unsuccessful footmen hurrying back through the rain. Her reflection shone back at her in the glass, and in spite of Linnet’s escape a faint smile played about her lips. Maybe she’d been denied the ultimate satisfaction of seeing her rival’s stricken face, and of ruining her reputation by exposing her presence in the house, but she’d come close enough. The smile faded a little as she pondered how Linnet had been so neatly whisked from her grasp. Nicholas’s timely intervention hadn’t been anticipated, and Judith was angry now that she hadn’t suspected anything when the butler had mentioned to her that he’d arrived unexpectedly via the mews lane. It seemed Lord Fane still felt something for his former love, although what that something was remained a mystery.
Behind her, Benedict struggled to remain calm as he at last turned to look at her. “Why?” he asked in a choked voice. “Why did you do it? Do you suddenly hate me? Do you now want to see me completely ruined?”
“You know that I love you with all my heart. You are the only man for whom I would gladly give up everything.”
“And yet you would see me in debtor’s jail!” He was bewildered by the seemingly wanton destruction of the match he’d needed so much. “Another few weeks would have seen my debts settled and the Carlisle fortune completely in my hands…”
“Aye, and the Carlisle wench completely in your bed. I’m not a fool, Benedict, and I know full well that she had become more to you than just a conveniently wealthy wife. I’ve always been prepared to stand by you, but I draw the line at watching you fall in love with someone else.”
“I’m not falling in love with her.”
“No?” She left the window. “In the beginning I agreed to keep our affair a secret because you had such high hopes of inheriting a fortune from your prudish maiden aunt, and when that fell through I reluctantly agreed to your seeking a suitable dull heiress. I even consented to your haste to get her to the altar when the duns descended upon you at the theater, and then again at that exhibition. I agreed with you that Linnet Carlisle was ideal for your purpose, for although she’s attractive enough on the surface, beneath it all she’s a fool.” Her fan moved softly to and fro as she halted in front of him. “Who but a fool would have thrown a man like Fane away? I was content that she was far too shallow a creature to ever steal you from me, but when you came back from the Lake District that last time, I could sense the way the wind was beginning to blow.”
“You’re wrong. I feel nothing for her.”
“Don’t lie, Benedict, for it isn’t becoming. The moment I knew what was happening, I determined not to permit that simpering little Miss Purity to supplant me in your affections. It gave me a great satisfaction to mount a campaign against her, and even more pleasure to know that there was precious little you dared to do about it.”
Angry color marked his cheeks. “Damn you,” he breathed.
“No, it’s damn you, sirrah! How dare you want her, and then warm yourself in my bed!” Her eyes flashed, and the plumes trembled. “You’re mine, Benedict Gresham, and I’m not going to relinquish you to her.”
“And so you’ll relinquish me to His Majesty’s justice instead?” He ran his fingers agitatedly through his hair. “Plague take you, Judith, for you say that you love me, but your actions prove that the very opposite is the case. To go to all these lengths… You actually lured me here tonight in order to expose me in front of her.” He paused suddenly as something occurred to him. “And you could only do that if you knew what her plans were. You did know them, didn’t you?”
“Of course.” She turned, for the poodle whined a little, and as she bent to stroke its head, she smiled again. “I knew her every move. I knew how she meant to enter the house, and so I saw to it that her way was left conveniently clear. I knew what gown and wig she would be wearing, and I warned the servant
s to remain hidden, but to report to me the moment she’d arrived. Once she was in the house, all I had to do was keep her here until you were due to arrive, and then allow her to come up here, which she had to do if she was to steal one of my plumes.” Her glance moved to the dressing table, where the black plume had lain so invitingly. “I didn’t mean her to succeed, however, for it was my intention to expose her so that the fashionable world would know that little Miss Purity had so discarded her morals that she’d willingly entered this establishment. I meant to prove that although she may have shown a little spirit in attempting to pull it off, she’d failed miserably, and ruined herself as a consequence. Who would want a bride who had such scant regard for her reputation?”
He stared at her. “Who told you what she was planning? Did you bribe her maid?”
“No.”
“Then who told you?” he demanded again.
“That would be telling.”
“I want to know, damn it!”
“What does it matter now? Suffice it that I knew what she was up to, and I used it to my own advantage. Your match with her is at an end, Benedict, and I think you should face the fact. No amount of explanation will disguise what she saw here in this room. You were supposed to be at a stuffy East India House dinner, but instead you were here, making love to me.”
“You’ve thrown me to the duns, Judith, and I’ll never forgive you for that.”
“Oh, I think you’ll forgive me everything, my darling, because you’re the most unscrupulously mercenary and calculating soul I know, which is saying something, given the souls I happen to be acquainted with.” She turned her head, smiling at him. “I still love you, though, heaven help me, and I’ve done all this because I mean to have you.”
He gave an ironic laugh. “Do you mean to keep me, like your poodle?”
“Something of the sort,” she murmured, going to the dressing table and picking up a slim leather box, which she brought to him. “Here, take this, for it is yours to do with as you please.”
Puzzled, he took the box, but before he could open it, she spoke again.
“Perhaps I should warn you that there is much, much more where that came from.”
Slowly he undid the little catch, opening the box to see a magnificent diamond necklace reposing within on a bed of purple satin. His lips parted, and he looked askance at her. “But, this has to be worth…”
“A small fortune? Yes, it is.”
He took it out, holding it up so that the diamonds caught the candlelight. “How did you come by it?”
“How do you imagine? How does a creature like me usually receive presents? My admirers are legion, my darling, and some of them I have been keeping at arm’s length because of my love for you. But my love for you has made me swallow my pride and a certain doddering old Russian archduke, who has recently arrived in town, and who has more money and estate than sense, has suddenly found his advances welcomed. In his gratitude, he intends to lavish gifts upon me, and those gifts, my darling, I will gladly give to you. There is, however, one very important condition.”
He gazed at the diamonds. “Name it,” he said softly.
“When your debts are settled and all is well again, you are to make me your wife.”
His eyes swung to meet hers, and after a moment he nodded. “If that is truly what you wish.”
She slipped her arms around his waist. “I want you, Benedict Gresham, and nothing less than complete possession will do from now on.”
He pulled her close and kissed her on the lips. She closed her eyes, her body melting against his as she surrendered to the fierce passion he’d aroused from the first moment she’d met him. His eyes didn’t close, though, they remained very much open, and there was a calculating glint in them as he looked again at the necklace in his hand.
Judith’s breath escaped in a sigh. “Linnet Carlisle need not mean anything to you from now on,” she whispered.
“She has ceased to exist,” he replied, his fingers closing tightly over the diamonds.
* * *
In the carriage speeding back toward Carlisle House, Linnet was at last managing to overcome her emotion, and she drew back in the darkness, her face illuminated now and then by street lamps. So much was now only too clear to her. Judith Jordan’s enmity was suddenly explained, and it was all on account of Benedict, not Nicholas. The campaign of ridicule, the overturned basket of roses, the torn note that had accompanied them, and the warning about being a thorn in the side that would have to be dealt with, all could be traced back to bitter jealousy over a man, but not the man she, Linnet, had believed it to be. Oh, what a gull she’d been, falling for Benedict’s lies, and suffering pangs of conscience because she’d given in to Nicholas’s seductive influence.
Blinking back the new tears that immediately sprang to her eyes, she suddenly pulled off her wig and tossed it onto the seat opposite. Her chestnut hair tumbled down from its pins, falling warmly about her bare shoulders.
The citrus-yellow gown, already so immodest, was now damp and clinging from the rain, outlining every curve of her figure.
Nicholas took a handkerchief from his pocket. “You appear to have wept an ocean into your own handkerchief, so perhaps it is time to employ mine.”
Still struggling to hold back the tears, she accepted the preferred square of white linen, then she took a deep breath and looked at him. “How did you know where I was?”
“A chance sighting of your somewhat aimless carriage, a little unfair pressure on your maid, and a certain amount of guesswork. You took a very foolish chance going there, Linnet, I trust you realize that now?”
“How could I not realize it?” She twisted the handkerchief nervously in her hands. “She knew all along, didn’t she?”
“It appears so. You were allowed suspiciously easy entry, and then found the exits all mysteriously closed to you. Someone obviously warned her.”
She nodded. “But who? No one knew except Venetia and my maid.”
“Well, I can’t imagine that Lady Hartley would wish to destroy a match she so obviously promoted from the outset, which, incidentally, also leads me to the conclusion that she doesn’t know the truth about her brother.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t.”
“And as to whether your maid would betray you, well, I can’t think that she would, can you?”
Linnet thought of Mary, and then shook her head. “No.”
“So, that means someone else must know.”
“There isn’t anyone else.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Can you be sure? What of the hackney coachman who was waiting in the lane for you?”
“Well, I suppose he knew a little. And so did my maid’s cousin, for he arranged the hackney coach. And I suppose my own coachman knew a little as well.”
“The net widens, does it not?” he murmured dryly.
“Only Venetia and my maid knew everything, and I’m sure they’re innocent.”
“You’re always so easily and completely sure about everything, aren’t you? Look how sure you’ve been about what I may or may not have done. I can tell you that you’ve been wrong about me, so why can you not equally be wrong about them?”
“I’m certain Venetia and Mary wouldn’t betray me,” she repeated.
“I’ll warrant that only this morning you would have staunchly defended Gresham’s name, too.”
She lowered her eyes.
“I tried to warn you about him.”
She looked accusingly at him. “You knew he was Judith’s lover, didn’t you?”
“Yes, although he had no idea his secret was known to anyone except Judith, because they’d been at such pains to keep it hidden in order to keep sweet his prim aunt, who wouldn’t have left him her fortune had she known about a liaison with a demi-mondaine. As it happened, the aunt wisely left her fortune elsewhere, and so the liaison still had to be kept secret while he searched for a suitably wealthy wife. I found out completely by accident, and at the same time dis
covered his monumental debts. Being a frequent visitor to her house, I was there when the pair of them had a rather indiscreet conversation. Oh, they thought themselves safe from prying ears, but the door was ajar and I heard enough.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all this? Why did you let me make a fool of myself?”
“With hindsight, I realize that I handled it all very badly, but I wanted to spare you the humiliation, and anyway I really didn’t think you’d believe me. You haven’t believed anything I’ve told you since all that happened a year ago, and I doubt if you’d have made a sensible exception for my tale-telling on Gresham. I thought it best to attempt to steer you away from him, for I’d disapproved of him even before I overheard that secret conversation. There was something about him that from the outset marked him as a fortune hunter, liar, and opportunist, although I could not have told you why I felt it so strongly.” He paused. “Perhaps now is the time to tell you once and for all that Judith and I have never been lovers. She’s long been a friend of mine, but a platonic one. Oh, it is possible, you know. She’s witty, amusing, good company, and an excellent hostess, and that is why I’ve always enjoyed her society. And if you think I must be lying, because I am so intimate with the layout of her bedroom, let me tell you that it is well known in certain circles that there is a secret way from the garden to her chamber, and not every gentleman who has used it is discreet enough to remain silent about his good fortune.”
Linnet searched his face, and knew that he was telling her the truth.
He leaned his head back against the upholstery. “I know who told you that I was Judith’s lover, but I doubt very much if even yet you’re ready to hear the whole truth about a year ago.
“What do you mean?”
He suddenly put his hand to her cheek. “My judgment has been at fault throughout all this, and I’ve left unsaid things which I now realize should have been said. Soon I will tell you absolutely everything, but I think that tonight is perhaps not the moment, not when you’ve already endured so much.”