“Trap you? My dear boy, nothing could be further from the truth. However, if you have fallen in love with one of the girls—”
“Oh, God! I must leave here at once,” said Nicholas, moving swiftly to the door. “She must be wishing me gone—gone to the devil!”
Lord Hugh ran after him. “Nicholas! You must not let Emma Grey drive you away from your family. It’s the holidays! Families should be together.”
Nicholas turned on him. “Oh? Does that not include a mother and her children?”
“Dear boy!”
Nicholas had almost torn the door from its hinges in his eagerness to leave the room, but the endearment stopped him in his tracks. “I am not your dear boy,” he said coldly. “And I am sick of listening to your self-serving lies! Understand me, sir, there is not the least chance that I will ever marry any of your daughters! I am leaving this place, and I hope never to see any of you again.”
Lord Hugh’s expression hardened. “You cannot leave, Nicholas. I will not permit you to take any of the duke’s vehicles or horses or servants. You have no transportation of your own! Unless you propose to steal from his grace, the Duke of Warwick—”
“I have my feet, sir,” Nicholas told him. “I will walk to the nearest village and take the stagecoach. Where I go and how I get there is really none of your concern.”
Lord Hugh tried a more conciliatory tone. “None of my concern? Nicholas, how can you say so? I am your uncle and your guardian and—I hope—your true friend. You are upset, dear…er…nephew. You are not thinking clearly. At least wait until morning.”
Nicholas laughed dryly. “It was not my idea to stumble around in the dark, sir. I will leave at first light.” He left the room with a quick stride.
Lord Hugh ran after him. “I am persuaded that, upon a period of reflection, you will change your mind,” he called desperately. “Of course, if you still wish to leave in the morning, we will go with you. You should not be alone at a time like this!”
“Are you not afraid the roads will be unpassable?” Nicholas said sarcastically. “Your blizzard is long overdue, sir.”
“Nephew, I forbid you to go!” Lord Hugh’s voice was shrill.
Nicholas’s eyes narrowed as he turned slowly to face his uncle. “You forbid me?” he said quietly. “Are you my master? Am I your servant?”
Lord Hugh cowered in fear as the young man advanced on him, but, after a moment, Nicholas only glared at him with contempt, turned on his heel, and continued down the hall alone.
After dinner, the most uncomfortable dinner of her life, Emma retreated to her sitting room with her brothers and her sister-in-law. “Good God!” she ejaculated, throwing herself down on the damask sofa.
Colin brought her a large brandy. “I told you this would happen,” he said. “I told you Nicholas would fall madly in love with you, and you wouldn’t be able to get rid of him.”
Emma looked at him incredulously. “No, you didn’t!”
“That was remiss of me,” Colin apologized. “I should have said something. It was fairly obvious where this thing was going. Your plan was flawed from the beginning, Emma.”
“Obvious! Was it obvious that he was going to tell to the world we’re engaged?”
“Was it a secret engagement?” Cecily asked curiously.
“There was no engagement!” cried Emma.
“You really ought to have told him that,” said Colin.
“We never even discussed marriage,” Emma said resentfully.
Seating himself on the sofa, Otto brought out his snuff-box. “The sensible thing would have been to accept the engagement, at least until Harry and Grey were returned to you, Emma. You could have broken it off later.”
“I am not that cruel,” Emma said indignantly.
“Then perhaps you should not have taken him to bed,” Otto suggested harshly.
Emma glared at Colin. “What makes you think I took him to bed, Otto?”
“No, Colin didn’t tell me,” said Otto. “He didn’t have to. It was perfectly apparent that the two of you were on terms of intimacy. You took him to bed, and, fool that he is, he thought it meant something.”
“Well, he’s obviously a lunatic,” Emma said angrily. “I never said I would marry him. This is not my fault, Otto.”
“Blame is beside the point,” Otto said impatiently. “Emma, this will complicate things with Hugh Fitzroy. You promised to leave Camford alone in exchange for your children and your letter. Instead, you seduced the boy.”
“I did not seduce him,” Emma argued.
“Again, you miss the point,” Otto snapped. “You have placed your children at risk—all three of them. For what? A tumble with some young idiot you don’t even want to marry? Have you no self-control?”
“Otto!” Cecily cried in dismay.
Emma sprang to her feet, trembling with rage. “I did not place my children at risk!” she shouted at him. “Why should I not take a lover if that is my wish? How dare you! It is Hugh! Hugh is using them as pawns against me. You should be angry at him.”
“And you were using my nephew as a pawn!” said Lord Hugh, bursting into the room. “But you have made a false move, my dear.”
Emma spun around. It seemed useless to complain that he was invading her privacy. “You cannot possibly believe that I would agree to marry Nicholas!” she protested.
“I don’t know what promises you made him,” Lord Hugh replied bitterly. “But you have ruined my plans, Emma Grey. I warned you what would happen if you crossed swords with me. You will leave this house in the morning, and never return. And you can take your unnatural brother with you. He is no more a fit companion for two impressionable young boys than you are.”
“If you are implying,” Colin said coldly, “that I am a danger to my own nephews—”
Emma held up her hand. “You cannot make me leave Warwick, Hugh. I have dower rights. And I have the right to invite anyone I choose. This is my son’s house, not yours.”
“No, I cannot make you leave,” he agreed. “But I have the power to keep Harry and Grey away. As long as you are under this roof, madam, I will. The choice is yours. Either you quit Warwick on the morrow, or your sons will spend Christmas alone, locked in a room somewhere, under guard like criminals.”
“Now, look here!” Otto began irritably.
“You would not dare!” said Emma. “You have already announced that they are coming home. You cannot go back on your word.”
“People will now understand why I am so determined to keep them away from you.”
“I will tell Nicholas that you have been stealing from the estate!”
“It matters not,” said Lord Hugh. “He will find out soon enough, and, since he won’t be marrying any of my daughters, thanks to you, my ruin is certain. Very likely, he will throw me into prison. But if I am headed for a fall, then you, my dear, are in for a plummet.”
“Why, you—you horrid old man!” cried Cecily. “Otto! Can’t you do something?”
“What do you suggest?” Otto said coldly.
“But, Hugh, I am not engaged to Nicholas,” Emma protested. “He is free to marry anyone he chooses!”
“You made him fall in love with you,” Lord Hugh accused her. “He is too brokenhearted to even think of marrying anyone else. You have ruined my life, madam, and I intend to return the favor.”
“You forget one thing,” said Otto. “Once your crime is exposed, you will be removed as guardian to my nephews. Then you will not be able to keep my sister from her children.”
“I don’t care about the future,” Lord Hugh said recklessly. “Harry and Grey are in my power now. And so is your little bastard, my dear,” he told Emma. “I want you to hurt.”
“I will pay you,” Emma said suddenly. She was already walking to her writing desk. “What was the sum you wanted? Ten thousand pounds? You could leave the country. With ten thousand pounds, you could live like a king in America. You need not fear prison.”
“I don
’t want your money,” said Lord Hugh. “I want you to suffer. If you do not leave here in the morning, I will expose your daughter. If your brother does not go with you, I will expose your daughter. Oh, and, if anything unpleasant should happen to me in the night—if I should die unexpectedly, say—my attorney will know what to do!”
They could only watch helplessly as he strutted from the room.
“He’s bluffing,” Emma said. “When did Hugh Fitzroy ever say no to money?”
“It seems you have underestimated his anger,” said Otto.
Cecily rushed to Emma’s side. “Don’t worry, Emma! Otto will think of something.”
“With any luck, he’ll fall down the stairs and break his neck,” said Colin.
Otto shook his head. “As long as he has Emma’s letter, we must pray for his safety. Cecily, my dear,” he went on, “I think you should go to bed. I must speak to my sister. You should not hear what I have to say.”
Cecily protested, but Otto’s was the stronger personality. When she had gone, Emma faced her eldest brother defiantly. “Well, Otto? You were right. I was wrong, as usual. Feel free to triumph over me, now that I am beaten and helpless.”
“This is no time to feel sorry for yourself, Emma,” Otto said curtly. “If this is to be our last night at Warwick, then it is our last chance to take revenge. We have a lot of work to do.”
Colin’s eyes lit up. “Aunt Harriet?”
Otto nodded. “It will have to be tonight, I’m afraid. You remember the plan?”
“It’s seared into my memory like the sacred flame,” Colin replied. “The large sack is in my room.”
“Good.”
“But have we decided on that plan absolutely?” Emma protested. “She is an old woman, you know. What if she should die of fright?”
“Nonsense!” said Colin. “She’s made of old boots and rusty saw blades. She’s tough as a rat.”
“I think we should go with my idea,” Emma said stubbornly. “Not as brutal, perhaps, but quite seriously nasty.”
“Colin will take Aunt Harriet,” Otto said firmly. “Emma, you will be dealing with Hugh this night. Short of murder, you may use whatever method you think best.”
“And what will you be doing in the meantime?” Emma demanded.
Otto smiled. “We mustn’t overlook General Bellamy. The servants tell me he leaves Mrs. Camperdine’s room every morning between two and half-past. I’ve never approved of adultery.”
“I’m so glad you’re not angry with me,” Emma said gratefully.
“Oh, I’m angry with you,” Otto replied. “If you weren’t my sister, I’d rip you limb from limb. Then again, if you weren’t my sister, I don’t suppose I’d care what sort of mess you made of your life.”
“Thank you, Otto,” Emma said faintly. “I think.”
Saturday, December 17, 1814
After leaving his uncle in the smoking room, Nicholas went directly to his room and packed his few belongings. He no longer felt like a guest at Warwick. Leaving the bed untouched, he sat in a chair at the fireside, with his coat over him. For a long time he stared into the flames, unable to sleep. From time to time, he heard the faint faraway chimes of a clock striking the hours. He thought he would never find sleep.
He must have drifted off sometime after midnight, however, because the slight creaking of the door handle woke him just as his friend the clock was striking two o’clock. The fire guttered from the sudden draft of cold air as the door swung open. Nicholas jumped to his feet as a shadowy figure entered the room backward, dragging a large burlap sack. Something inside the sack squirmed, mewling pitifully.
“Who’s there?” Nicholas demanded, reaching for the fireplace poker.
Colin nearly jumped out of his skin. He was dressed head to toe in black with a black kerchief covering the lower half of his face. He looked like a highwayman. Whirling around, he saw Nicholas and relaxed somewhat. “Oh, it’s you,” he panted. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a body like that.”
“Lord Colin! What are you doing here?” Nicholas asked. “Why are you dressed like that? What’s in the sack? What is going on?”
Colin looked at him blankly. “What’s going on? Just an old German holiday tradition. Nothing for you to worry about. What are you doing in here, anyway? This isn’t your room.”
“Yes, it is,” said Nicholas.
“Oh? I thought it was empty.”
“No,” Nicholas said, frowning.
“Well, this is awkward.”
“Not at all. I assume you want to use the passageway leading from the fireplace to the duke’s chamber?” said Nicholas. “Allow me,” he added, pressing the panel that triggered the mechanism.
“Thank you.” Colin resumed dragging the sack across the carpet. Whatever was inside kicked and howled like a half dozen cats.
“Wait!” said Nicholas, as Colin disappeared into the narrow opening. “What’s in the sack?”
“Rabbits,” Colin replied cheerfully. “Rabbits for the Christmas hassenpfeffer. I’m just going to take them up to the roof and throw them off—you know, to tenderize them.”
Muffled screams came from the sack.
“It doesn’t sound like rabbits,” said Nicholas, frowning. “Anyway, they’re still alive! Isn’t that somewhat cruel?”
Colin laughed. “Of course it’s cruel. We’re German! Look, just forget you ever saw me. I was never here.”
He was gone, closing the door behind him.
Nicholas stared at the door for a long moment. When closed, it looked like part of the elaborately carved marble fireplace. It had taken him quite some time to discover how to open it. It had made him late for his assignation with Emma the night before.
The night before…
He did not want to think about Emma. He would leave in the morning and never see her again. He certainly was not going to open the secret door and make his way to her room via the passageway. If she had anything to say for herself, she could come to him. The passageway ran both ways, after all.
He was now too restless to sleep. He walked up and down in front of the fireplace for a while, then forced himself to sit down. Taking up his coat, he covered himself with it. From this angle, he could see that the secret doorway was standing slightly ajar. Colin had not closed it properly. Muttering under his breath, Nicholas threw off his coat and went to the door, intending to close it. Instead, he found himself opening the door wider. He could hear faint thuds and stifled shrieks ahead of him in the darkness. Someone cursed, probably Colin. Then, clear as a crystal bell, Nicholas heard Emma’s voice:
“All ist klar?”
“All ist klar,” Colin’s voice answered.
“No, all is not klar,” Nicholas said, stepping into the passageway and making his way to them. “I strongly suspect those are not rabbits,” he added, pointing at the burlap sack.
“What is he doing here?” Emma demanded. Like her brother, she was dressed in black, with a black scarf covering her nose and moth. Black velvet breeches and tall leather boots encased her legs. She was carrying a large, cloth-covered bucket in her gloved hands. In spite of the cloth covering, a strong odor emanated from the bucket.
“He must have followed me,” Colin complained. “I told him it was just one of our cruel, German holiday traditions, but, I suppose he had to see for himself.”
Emma glared at Nicholas. “Go on, Colin. I’ll take care of Lord Camford.”
Colin trudged on into the darkness, dragging his burden behind him. Nicholas and Emma squared off. She would not permit him to go any deeper into the passageway, and he would not permit her to leave.
“My lord, you are in my way,” Emma said.
“What’s in the bucket?” he asked. “Another German holiday tradition?”
“Yes, that’s right. It’s a bucket full of fruit and nuts and candy.”
“It doesn’t smell like candy.”
“That’s because it’s horse shit,” she snapped.
“Intended for m
e, I suppose!”
“Not you,” she answered. “Hugh. I’m going to put it over his door, and tie a bit of string from the handle to the doorknob, so when he leaves his room in the morning, he’ll get a nice, lovely bath. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not really, no.”
“Then kindly get out of my way.”
He would not move. “Not until I hear your explanation.”
“It’s very simple,” said Emma. “I don’t like him! I thought, before I leave, I might as well give him a little Christmas present, a little token of my esteem.”
Nicholas had wanted to hear her explain her cruelty to him at dinner, but he was too distracted by her answer to correct the misunderstanding. “What do you mean before you leave?” he demanded. “Are you leaving? But your children arrive tomorrow.”
“I am not to be allowed to see them,” she explained bitterly. “I have been a naughty girl, and I have to be punished.”
Nicholas’s mouth went dry. “Because of me?” he whispered.
“Yes, of course, because of you!” Setting down her bucket, she struck him in the chest. “What in God’s name did you think you were doing, proclaiming to the world that I had consented to be your wife! I, the Duchess of Warwick! You know perfectly well I never promised you any such thing!”
He stared at her. Of her face, he could only see her eyes, glittering coldly in the torchlight. “Emma, how can you say that? After—after what happened between us last night, it was understood that we would marry. Indeed, we must marry.”
Emma laughed at him. “Are you simple, boy? Or simply out of your wits?”
“You said you loved me,” he accused.
“That was in bed, you fool! Everyone says I love you in bed. It’s considered polite. It doesn’t mean anything, you know.”
He stared at her as if he had never seen her before. “But you gave yourself to me. You said we would be together when you were out of mourning.”
“And we were together,” she reminded him. “For heaven’s sake! Did you think I meant marriage? I knew you were green; I didn’t think you were grass! Nicholas! If I married every man I gave myself to—well, I’d be the female version of Solomon, wouldn’t I?”
Christmas with the Duchess Page 17