Book Read Free

The Deception

Page 29

by Joan Wolf


  At that, I stood up, leaned down to him, and kissed him lightly on his mouth. “Thank you,” I said.

  Bright color washed into his pale cheeks.

  “You saved two lives that night,” I informed him.

  “Two?” He looked up at me, clearly bewildered.

  “I hope you will stand godfather.”

  Understanding dawned. He gave me a radiant smile and reached his good hand up to me. “That’s wonderful news, Kate!”

  I put my hand into his, held to it tightly, and said, “I have been so worried about you, Harry....” The tears that seemed to come so easily to me these days brimmed in my eyes.

  “I’m perfectly all right, Kate,” he assured me hastily. “No need to get sloppy, you know.”

  I blinked, made a heroic effort, and got ahold of myself. “You look dreadful,” I informed him. I sniffled. “You’re even starting to show a beard. I didn’t know you had a beard, Harry,” and I ran my fingers curiously across the silvery down on his cheek.

  But Harry’s eyes were on the doorway. “Adrian!” he said. “I have been wondering where you were.”

  Adrian’s hair was brushed, his cheeks were smooth, his clothes unrumpled, but there was a peculiarly tense look on his face as he came into the room, as if all the muscles under his skin had tightened. His voice was expressionless as he said, “How are you feeling, Harry?”

  “All right,” Harry said, “Kate has been talking my ear off, which has helped to keep my mind off the pain in my shoulder.”

  Adrian’s back was to me so I couldn’t see his face, but his voice was even as he replied, “Kate is very inventive.”

  “You didn’t need to return so soon,” Harry said. “You must be exhausted, Adrian. I don’t think there’s been a time in the last two days when I opened my eyes and you haven’t been here.”

  “I grew accustomed to catching sleep when and where I could in the army,” Adrian replied. “You would be surprised by the amount of sleep I managed to snatch in this chair.”

  “Well... I must own that I was very glad you were here,” Harry said in a low voice. “Thank you.”

  “It is I who must thank you,” Adrian replied. “After all, Harry, you saved the life of my wife.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  The doctor came and confirmed that Harry was much improved. Then the men sent me out of the room so the doctor could change Harry’s bandage, and I went downstairs to inform our host and hostess of the good news.

  Most of the houseguests had departed the day before, since the race meet was finished. The only people left besides my family were Mr. Bellerton, Lady Mary, and her mother. Everyone was very concerned about Harry, and Sir Charles Barbury told me that Stade would be brought up before a grand jury if I would be willing to testify.

  “I am afraid it will be rather a public ordeal for you, my dear,” he said apologetically.

  “I should be delighted to testify,” I said firmly. “And I’m certain that Harry will testify as well.”

  Sir Charles sighed. “Yes. Well, I am afraid that it will have to be done. Stade cannot be allowed to go free. Stealing a horse was one thing, but trying to kill the Countess of Grey stone is something else.”

  I wondered how Sir Charles would have felt about the matter if I had been plain Miss Fitzgerald and not the Countess of Greystone. I decided it would be wiser not to ask.

  Adrian came down to join us for luncheon.

  “My brother is sleeping,” he answered Sir Charles’s concerned question. “Changing the bandage is always something of an ordeal.”

  Poor Harry.

  Adrian gave his host a rueful smile. “I’m sure you did not expect to have us as guests for so long a period, Sir Charles. But I do not think I will be able to move my brother for several more days.”

  “My dear chap!” Sir Charles was waving his hands in his anxiety to reassure Adrian. “I assure you, it’s nothing but a pleasure to have you gracing my home. Please do not think of leaving until you are perfectly comfortable with the state of Mr. Woodrow’s health.”

  “You are very kind,” Adrian replied.

  “Not at all! Not at all! You are to regard Harley Hall as your home! Do not hesitate to ask for whatever you might require, Greystone. It is an honor to have you here.”

  Adrian replied politely to Sir Charles’s effusions, and we all went into luncheon.

  * * * *

  The next few days crept slowly by. The stronger Harry grew, the more bored he became, and I found myself spending most of my lime in his room trying to keep him amused. We played endless hours of piquet, and I believe my total losses were something in the neighborhood of three million pounds.

  Adrian and I lived together like strangers who were forced to share the same quarters and were doing their best not to get in each other’s way. My brave resolution to tell him that I loved him had been quenched the instant that I had seen his lips tenderly touch Lady Mary’s hand.

  Added to that, he was clearly disgusted with the mindless impetuosity with which I had almost gotten his brother killed. He was far too generous to keep harping on the subject, but I could read his contempt in the coolness of his eyes when he looked at me, in the indifferent tones of his voice when he was forced to address me about some matter that affected us both.

  I was fair-minded enough not to blame him for being annoyed with my stupidity—I was annoyed with it myself—but I could not forgive him for Lady Mary. To make matters even worse, she and the duchess remained at Harley Hall for the entire duration of our stay. This enabled me to torture myself with the picture of my husband and Lady Mary walking and talking and riding together in the bright spring sunshine, while I sat inside and played hour after hour of piquet with a decidedly crabby Harry.

  When Harry finally rebelled and demanded that the doctor allow him to return home, I supported him enthusiastically. The doctor relented and said we could leave the following morning. I went down to dinner that evening with a heart lighter than it had been in many days. After all, it was the last meal that I would have to spend being polite to Lady Mary.

  Lord Barbury greeted me in the drawing room with unwelcome news. The Marquis of Stade had slipped away from his home the day before and could not be located. It was generally believed that he had fled to the Continent. Apparently his yacht had been seen in the harbor at Aldeburgh.

  Lord Barbury conveyed this information in a tone of elegiac regret that absolutely enraged me. “Do you mean to tell me, Lord Barbury, that Stade was never arrested?” I demanded.

  Lord Barbury took instant alarm at the tone of my voice and glanced nervously at Adrian, who was standing behind me. “Remember, he was injured, Lady Greystone,” Lord Barbury said.

  “I did not know that a blow on the head constituted a pardon for attempted murder,” I returned.

  Lord Barbury sent another glance toward Adrian, but when my husband remained silent, Lord Barbury had to answer me.

  “Of course his injury doesn’t pardon his actions, my dear. What I meant was that the authorities thought he was too badly hurt to need further confinement.”

  “And no one thought to keep his house under surveillance?” I went on relentlessly.

  “Well ... no,” Lord Barbury said.

  I felt s6meone move to my side and knew from the familiar fragrance that wafted to my nostrils that it was Louisa. Another thought struck me and I said to Lord Barbury, “Does Stade usually keep his yacht in the Aldeburgh harbor?”

  Lord Barbury looked unhappy. “Well... no,” he said again.

  “And no one thought it suspicious when his yacht made a surprise appearance in the harbor just when Stade was due to be arrested?” I demanded.

  Lord Barbury was silent.

  Mr. Bellerton said gently, “Stade will never be able to return to England, Lady Greystone. He will be forced to live out the remainder of his life in permanent exile. That is a formidable punishment in its own right, you know.”

  “It is not enough,” I
said.

  Support came from an unexpected and not overly welcome source. “I agree with Lady Greystone,” Lady Mary said. “It seems to me this whole business has been sadly bungled.”

  “I agree,” Louisa said firmly.

  At last Adrian spoke. “I believe Lady Barbury would like us to go into dinner,” he said.

  * * * *

  I was in a foul mood all through dinner. It was obvious to me that the authorities had connived at Stade’s escape, and the more I thought about it the more infuriated I became. When I announced after dinner that I was going to retire, Lord Barbury visibly sighed with relief.

  I looked into Harry’s room, hoping to find him awake so that I could tell him what had happened, but he was sleeping soundly. Disappointed, I trailed down the hall to the room that I was sharing in such civil discord with Adrian. I didn’t send for Jeanette but began to pace restlessly up and down in front of the fireplace.

  I was still pacing an hour later when Adrian came in. I swung around to face the door as soon as I heard his step. “They let him go deliberately, Adrian,” I said.

  He closed the door behind him and came slowly into the room. “Yes, I’m afraid that they did, Kate,” he replied.

  “But why?” This was what I could not understand. “No one questioned his guilt. Why did they let him get away like that?” I had pulled the pins out of my hair when first I came in, and now I hooked the loosened mass behind my ears to keep it out of my way. “I don’t understand,” I said.

  He sighed. “You appear to be the only person who doesn’t understand, Kate. It’s quite simple, really. Stade’s escape was facilitated in order to save the nobility of England the embarrassment of a trial in the House of Lords.”

  I stared at him and didn’t reply.

  He went on, “Perhaps you did not realize that, as a Peer of the Realm, Stade would have to be tried in the Lords?”

  “I don’t care where he is tried,” I said. “I want justice, Adrian!”

  He shrugged. Shrugged! “Everyone wants justice, Kate,” he said, “but precious few of us ever get it. And what Bellerton said is true. Stade will be punished enough by permanent exile.”

  “Are you defending their actions?” I asked incredulously.

  “What actions? No one helped Stade to escape,” he said. “He acted on his own.”

  “There are crimes of omission as well as commission, Adrian,” I returned angrily. “Don’t try to tell me that there was no collusion involved in Stade’s escape.”

  He said, his gray eyes bleak as a winter sky, “Tell your troubles to Harry, Kate, not to me. I’m too grown up to still harbor dreams of a perfect world.”

  His face swam before my eyes in a haze of red. I balled my hands into fists to keep from hitting him and said between my teeth, “Are you calling me a child?”

  “You do not appear to be able to grasp the realities of the situation,” he replied.

  “Stade killed my father.” I could hear the harshness of my own breathing. “I don’t want him living comfortably in Paris, Adrian. I want him dead.”

  “He tried to kill you. He tried to kill my brother. I have no pity for Stade either, Kate. But I think this is the best solution.”

  He was holding himself as straight as he always did, but there was a suggestion of weariness about him that caught my attention. “Why?” I asked, my voice slightly less angry than it had been before.

  He moved slowly to the mantel and stood staring down into the steadily burning fire. He said. “Because we do not need to focus the attention of the country upon a criminal who is essentially insignificant.”

  I stiffened when he used the word insignificant, but I said nothing. After a minute, when he saw that I was not going to erupt, he turned to face me. “The fabric of our society is already so badly damaged, Kate, and a trial in the House of Lords will only divide the country even more. The reformers will see a chance to attack the nobility, and the government will grow even more defensive than it presently is, and it will pass laws that are even more restrictive. Nothing good can be gained from such a trial, and much that is bad is likely to result.”

  I stood in front of him and had no reply.

  He gave me the ghost of a smile. “Mind you, I am not claiming that these were the motives which caused Barbury to allow Stade to escape.”

  I was quite sure they were not. Lord Barbury and his ilk simply wanted to avoid a scandal.

  I hung my head. “I had not thought of... of all you have said.”

  “I realize that.”

  My hair came tumbling loose from its mooring behind my right ear, and I raised my hand to push it back. I bit my lip, said, “Adrian,” and looked up at him once more.

  His narrowed eyes were looking at my breast. I glanced down involuntarily and saw that a single ebony strand of hair had been caught inside the low-cut bodice of my evening dress. I looked up again at his hard, intent face and felt the heat of an answering desire surge through me.

  I don’t know which one of us moved first, but our bodies came together and I felt the fire of his kiss on my breast. My head was tipped way back, and the full length of my body was pressed against his. I could feel every hard line of him against me, and my love for him was like a river flowing inside me, surging strongly through every part of my being.

  His mouth moved from my breast to my mouth and I parted my lips to receive him. After a long, dizzy time he lifted his head and said in a hoarse, unsteady voice, “Kate, let’s go to bed.”

  We had gotten quite adept at shedding our clothes in a hurry, and it was not long before I was lying beneath him naked on the bed. His mouth was all over me, and I buried my hands in his hair, pressing him against me, breathless with the excitement his mouth was stimulating in all the nerves of my body. I ran my hands up and down his bare back, pressing first my fingers and then my nails into his skin. I repeated his name with increasing urgency.

  He knew exactly what I wanted, and I shivered with pleasure as I felt the powerful surge of him come up inside of me, penetrating deeply. Our mouths met and I shut my eyes tightly as I concentrated on the feel of him within and without. Again and again I ran my hands up and down his back, over the smooth skin, the hard muscles, the strong bones.

  His mouth moved to my cheek, my ear. “Kate,” he said. “Kate.”

  I held him tightly as he drove deeper and deeper inside of me. If he went any deeper, I thought, he would touch the baby. His hair brushed against my cheek and inside I felt my flesh softening, yielding, letting him come still more deeply inside.

  He drove me up the bed until my head was pressed against the mahogany headboard. He filled me utterly, and when the consummation finally rocked through me, the pleasure of it was so fierce that I thought I could not endure it. I felt the vibration of his own release, and we hung on to each other to keep from shattering into a million pieces and floating away.

  I pressed my face against his sweaty shoulder and thought that it was only in moments like these that I felt truly married. Lying here with him like this, our union was deep and complete and profoundly fulfilling. I wished the morning never had to come.

  * * * *

  The next day dawned as it always did, however, and Adrian and I went back to acting like courteous strangers. We left for Greystone late in the morning, Harry in the coach with me and Louisa, Adrian and Paddy riding on horseback. It was a long and tiring drive, but Harry insisted that he did not want to stop over on the road. By the time we got him into bed in his own room, he was exhausted. So was I.

  After we had been home for two days, I took Louisa over to Lambourn Manor and introduced her to Mrs. Noakes. The three of us partook of tea in the kitchen and had a lovely time gossiping about the neighborhood. I was greatly relieved. If Mrs. Noakes had not taken to Louisa I don’t know what I would have done. But when I confided in the housekeeper that Louisa was probably going to be her new mistress, she seemed actually to be pleased.

  We had been home for exactly one we
ek when I decided to drive into Newbury to pick up a book I had ordered. Before I left I went into the library to ask Harry if there was anything I could get for him while I was in town.

  He was lying on the sofa in his dressing gown reading the Morning Post.

  “I say, Kate, look at what appeared in the engagement announcements this morning,” he said.

  “You poor thing, you must be really desperate for amusement if you are reduced to reading the engagement announcements,” I teased. But obligingly I picked up the paper and looked. Printed there, in starkest black and white, was the notice that a marriage had been arranged between Lady Mary Weston and Mr. Richard Bellerton.

  I stared at it for a long time in silence. Then I gave the paper back to Harry and asked quietly, “Has Adrian seen this?”

  “I showed it to him earlier,” Harry reported, “but it came as no surprise. He already knew. Evidently Lady Mary told him about the engagement while we were still at Harley Hall.”

  I stared at Harry blankly.

  “Kate?” Harry said. “You still there?”

  “She told him?”

  “That is what he said to me this morning.”

  “At Harley Hall?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he say exactly when she told him, Harry?”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “It’s important,” I said tensely.

  “Well, he did say something about her telling him in confidence at that confounded dance.”

  “Did he by any chance say that they were out on the terrace?” I asked breathlessly.

  “He might have,” Harry said.

  “Good God,” I said.

  Harry folded the paper and put it down on the footstool that had been pulled up next to the sofa. “Would you care to tell me what this inquisition is all about?” he asked.

  “I think I have been very stupid,” I said.

  Harry grinned. “Nothing new there.”

  I moved the Morning Post to the floor and sat on the footstool myself. This put my face on a level with Harry’s, and I gazed at him solemnly and said, “I have been very angry with Adrian because I saw him kiss Lady Mary’s hand when they came in from the terrace. I thought he was still in love with her, you see. But now I think that perhaps he was only making a gallant gesture in response to her telling him that she was getting married.”

 

‹ Prev