by Candace Camp
“Word travels fast through the ton. I am sure that Vivian has written her friends and mentioned it. As has your stepmother, no doubt. Or Sabrina. There were a number of people here for the wedding, and I am sure that they heard you would be chaperoning the girls. They mention it to their friends when they get back . . .”
“Yes, you are right. Any number of people could have learned of it.” She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Do you think it is possible that the man who sneaked into the house, the one who frightened the maid, could have—”
“Been looking for your watch?” Fitz finished. His eyes narrowed in speculation. “I don’t know. Perhaps. At the time I just thought—”
Eve looked at him curiously. “Thought what? Did you suspect someone?”
“No one I know, really.” He sighed. “But I thought it might be Camellia’s and Lily’s stepfather.”
Eve’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t know they had a stepfather.”
“Mm. A rum touch, from all accounts. Jenny’s description sounded much like the way the girls described their stepfather, and he had tried to do them mischief before. And Lily and Cam looked at each other in a significant way.”
“Yes, I saw that too, but when I asked them they said they had no idea who it was.”
“He is an embarrassment to them. Not the sort you want turning up when you’re making your debut. I assumed he had tried to get into the wedding to try to wheedle money out of Stewkesbury and that later he came back to get some from Lily and Camellia. I sent men to look through the village for him; I intended to pack him off with a bit of money and a warning. But he was nowhere to be found. So I thought perhaps Oliver had already taken care of him. But now I wonder . . . maybe it wasn’t him at all.”
“But if it was the man who’s been sending me these letters, we are still no closer to him. I mean, your men did not find any stranger in the village, did they?”
“No, but he may have left by then and decided to do the rest of it by the Royal Mail. But there is one thing we have on our side. I don’t think he will be content with hoping you throw away the watch. He will have to know for certain. And that means that he is going to contact you again and eventually, one way or another, try to get his hands on that watch.”
“You think he will try again to steal it?”
“Perhaps. Just in case, from now on I’ll make sure the servants are on the alert. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he writes a letter telling you to take it somewhere or mail it somewhere. And if he does that . . .” Fitz grinned wickedly. “We’ll catch him.”
Chapter 17
During the days that followed Eve was too busy most of the time to think about the threatening letters or who might be responsible for them. Though her eyes were still sensitive to light, Camellia’s health steadily improved. Unfortunately she was a poor patient, too accustomed to activity to take easily to staying in bed yet too weak and feverish to get up. Therefore a good deal of Eve’s time was spent sitting by the girl’s bedside, trying to keep her quiet and entertained. Lily relieved her now and then, but Lily was too used to Camellia’s doing as she pleased to exercise much authority over her sister, so Eve tried not to leave Camellia under Lily’s care for too long.
When Eve was not with Camellia she looked in on Mrs. Merriwether, who was not progressing as rapidly. What with taking over much of the ailing housekeeper’s duties and trying also to keep apprised of the health and care of the sick servants, Eve had little time to spare.
It was a constant source of worry to her that she did not have enough time to chaperone Lily adequately. Lily spent two or three hours each day reading or chatting with her sick sister, and she had taken up the chore of dusting to ease the burden on the staff—a kindness on the girl’s part that Eve refrained from mentioning to the ailing housekeeper for fear the news would send Mrs. Merriwether into a severe decline. Lily also dropped in on Monsieur Leveque occasionally.
The rest of the time, however, Eve had no idea where Lily was—or with whom. As Fitz was out most of each day, trying to help his tenants and stand in for the estate manager, the only chaperone for Lily and Neville was Gordon, and Eve had little hope that Gordon was adequate to that task. Though Gordon had, somewhat to Eve’s surprise, followed through on his promise to Fitz to help out, especially with Monsieur Leveque, he was not the sort to interest himself in anyone else’s life. He spent most of his free time in the library writing poetry or in his room, presumably brooding in a poetical way.
That left Lily and Neville on their own most of the time. Indeed even when Lily was visiting Monsieur Leveque, Eve suspected that she did so with Mr. Carr by her side. Eve did not fear, really, that Carr would try to seduce Lily, but she did fear quite strongly that Lily would wind up deeply in love with a man bound to marry another.
These fears were reinforced one morning when Eve came into Camellia’s room and found her and Lily engaged in a low-voiced but fierce argument. Eve heard only a few words of their conversation, but one phrase leaped out and struck her with cold clarity: “. . . marry Neville.”
Camellia was flushed, her eyes too bright, and she was sitting up, looking poised to jump out of bed. Eve moved first to defuse the situation, suggesting to Lily that she run and fetch her bonnet and pelisse.
“I thought we might take a stroll in the gardens,” she told the girl with a smile. “Camellia should probably rest anyway. How are you feeling, dear?” She turned back to Camellia.
“I’m fine.” Camellia’s jaw jutted out stubbornly. “I don’t need to sleep.”
“I am sure you are getting quite tired of it really,” Eve replied sympathetically. “But you know, rest helps heal one, and I know you want to get back to your full strength as soon as you can.”
“That’s certainly true.” Camellia glanced involuntarily toward the door through which her sister had left.
Eve laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Don’t worry, Cam. I will keep an eye on Lily.”
Camellia glanced at her, her face a study in frustration. Eve knew that Cam could not bring herself to tattle on her sister, and Eve had no intention of trying to worm any information out of her. On the other hand, Cam was clearly worried.
“She’s always so full of romantic notions,” Cam muttered.
“I know. But you needn’t worry. Fitz and I are here to watch over her. You concern yourself with restoring your strength.”
Camellia sighed. “And getting rid of these blasted spots. I look like a leopard.”
“They’re very beautiful animals,” Eve pointed out.
Camellia had to grin a little. “I think I’d prefer to remain the way I’ve always looked.” She frowned, looking unaccustomedly vulnerable for an instant. “You don’t think—I mean, the spots won’t stay, will they? I mean, I won’t be—”
“Scarred? No, I shouldn’t think so. You’ve been quite good about not scratching. The lotion has helped, hasn’t it?”
Eve stayed for a few minutes, chatting cheerfully with Camellia, and the girl soon relaxed and agreed that perhaps she could sleep for a little while. Eve slipped out of the room and, grabbing her own bonnet and pelisse, went in search of Lily. She found the girl in the conservatory, staring moodily out one of the many windows. Lily turned and cast a searching glance at Eve’s face before pivoting back to pick up her bonnet and gloves from the small stand beside her.
There was a distinct nip in the air outside, and Eve was glad for the warmth of her pelisse. Before too much longer, she thought, they might need woolen cloaks for a walk through the gardens. They were silent for a time as they strolled along the winding paths. Eve searched for a way to bring up the topic that concerned her. Finally she could think of no diplomatic way to say what needed to be said, so she decided simply to plunge right in.
“Lily, are you and Mr. Carr making plans?”
“She told you, didn’t she?” Lily turned to look at Eve, her eyes flashing.
“Cam? No, you know she would never betray you. But it was clear
that she was upset, and I heard a few words that you said. I have to know, Lily, has Mr. Carr asked you to marry him?”
“Yes!” Lily raised her chin defiantly. “And I accepted. He loves me, and I love him.”
“But Lily, you know that he is promised to another.”
“He didn’t propose to her. It is only a plan cooked up by his father and her mother. Neville never wanted to marry her. But he agreed to, believing that he would not fall in love. It’s not fair that he should be stuck with marrying someone he’s never even proposed to.”
“But there was an understanding between them.”
“Neville says that she doesn’t want to marry any more than he does.”
“That may be; I don’t know. But I do know that it will be the talk of London if he does not follow through on what everyone knows has been intended for years.”
“Oh, I know there will be something of a scandal,” Lily admitted airily. “But it will eventually blow over. Neville says as soon as the next scandal comes along everyone will stop talking about it. Besides, I don’t care a fig for what the ton thinks. I don’t know any of these people, and they don’t know me. Why should I care if they gossip about me? I won’t hear it. I’ll be with Neville. And if it’s too bad, he says we will go to the Continent to live for a while.”
Lily’s carefree answers nearly took Eve’s breath away. How was she to combat this breezy surety? “But what about Mr. Carr’s father? He will not be pleased with Mr. Carr defying his wishes. Until his death he has the title, the estate; I fear he controls the purse strings.”
“I am not used to being rich,” Lily reminded Eve solemnly. “Neville’s father will come around, and in any case he says he has a small bequest from his grandmother. We shall not starve.”
“Lily, think!” Eve’s voice came out more sharply than she had intended, and she could see Lily’s jaw set more stubbornly, reminding Eve of Camellia a few minutes earlier. She softened her tone. “Dearest, you are not of age. Stewkesbury is your guardian. Do you really think he will allow you to marry into scandal?”
“If we have to we will run away.” Lily’s pretty face was stormy now.
“Elope? Oh, no . . .”
Lily stopped, turning to face Eve. “Everyone acts as if that is the worst thing in the world. But it isn’t! The worst thing is to live without love. My mother eloped, and she never regretted it. She and my father were happy; it didn’t matter that they didn’t have titles or wealth or any of that. They had each other. As Neville and I will.”
“Perhaps you don’t care about the scandal. But surely you must care about Camellia.”
“She’s being silly. I cannot imagine why she’s so against it. Usually Cam’s the bravest of us all.”
“I am sure she is concerned that you may make a mistake that will haunt you the rest of your life. However, I am thinking not just of you but of Cam as well. You may take off to the Continent as you said and weather the storm with your husband, far from the wagging tongues. But Camellia will be left here to endure a Season marked by scandal. The scandal will damage all of your family—Mary and Sir Royce, Fitz, the earl. Most of all it will hurt Camellia. It would be bad enough for Carr to jilt Lady Priscilla. But if you were to elope . . . well, the tongues would not cease wagging.”
“Camellia won’t care about that. I told you she is the bravest of us all.”
“And the one likeliest to fly to her sister’s defense. Do you honestly think she will hear anyone speak ill of you or your actions and not take that person to task? She could ruin herself socially if she starts pulling caps with one of the patronesses of Almack’s. And you know that Cam would never pause to consider the damage to herself; she is too loyal.”
Lily’s surety faltered. “But . . . there would be no need. I will tell her not to do so.”
In answer Eve merely quirked an eyebrow. Lily looked away. Eve pressed her advantage, moving closer to the young girl and putting her hand on Lily’s arm.
“I know you have no wish to harm your sister or any of the others. Please promise me you will not elope. Wait and talk to the earl when he comes home.”
Lily’s eyes grew wider. “Stewkesbury! Oh no, I cannot talk to him. He—well, I do not think he is unkind, but he scares me a little.”
“Mr. Carr will go with you when you speak to him. I am sure he would not leave you to face the earl alone.”
Lily looked a little comforted at that prospect, but still she hesitated. “I don’t know . . .”
Eve made her last stand. She hated to use her own problems to sway Lily, but she felt desperate. She could not allow Lily to run full tilt toward such disaster. Even if Lily was right and her parents’ life had been far happier for eloping, Eve was well aware of the fact that Miles and Flora Bascombe had fled to the United States and raised their family far from any of the gossip that ensued. It had been the family members they left behind who had weathered the gossip. But there was little likelihood that Neville would flee his title and the world he had always known. Lily would spend the rest of her life as the woman who had stolen Priscilla Symington’s fiancé. Even as Lady Carr people would cut her, and there would always be whispers about her. It would hurt her, and because Eve knew Lily’s kind heart as well as her impulsiveness, she knew it would hurt Lily, too, that she had caused damage to her family.
“Lily, please wait,” Eve entreated. “What am I to do if you leave? Camellia is still sick. Mrs. Merriwether is not improving quickly. I have so much work, yet how am I to get anything accomplished if I must worry about your running off?” She stopped there, unable to bring herself to point out that Lily’s elopement would be the sure end of Eve’s job as chaperone to Camellia. She would have failed in the most important task she had been given.
To her relief Lily nodded. “I will not leave while everyone is still sick. I wouldn’t desert Camellia or you that way. I promise.”
“Thank you.” Eve breathed a little easier. At least now she had some time to try to figure out how to thwart Lily’s and Neville’s plans.
Eve spent the rest of her day going through her usual tasks, waiting for the evening. Since the measles had struck the household they had stopped gathering in the drawing room after their shortened evening meal. Lily went upstairs to sit with Camellia until she fell asleep. Fitz would drink a glass of port with Neville and Gordon, then go to his brother’s study while the other two men stopped by Leveque’s room before retiring. Eve usually dropped in to see all those who were ailing, then spent a few minutes in consultation with the butler. She had become accustomed to ending the evening visiting with Fitz in the study.
It was not, she supposed, an entirely wise thing to do, for being alone with Fitz only seemed to fuel her desire to be with him even more, yet she could not bring herself to stop. She looked forward to this visit all day long. A few minutes with Fitz picked up her spirits, and only his presence could fill the lonely spot within her. It frightened her a little that Fitz had become so necessary to her life. She hated to think about the future that would stretch out in front of her when he was no longer there.
Tonight, however, she looked forward to their time together for more practical reasons than the simple pleasure of being with him. She needed his help with Lily. It went against the grain to reveal the girl’s secrets to her cousin, and if Lily found out Eve was afraid that Lily would never forgive her. But Eve had no real authority over Lily and no influence with Neville, as Fitz did. Besides, she was coming to learn that Fitz was a good man to have around in a crisis.
When she went into the study she found Fitz reading at the desk, his jacket tossed over a nearby chair along with his cravat, and the buttons of his waistcoat undone. A short, rounded glass containing an inch of brandy sat before him. Fitz’s elbows were braced on the desk, and his fingers were plunged into his hair as he read the account book before him.
At the sound of the door snicking shut, he raised his head, his hands falling away, and a delighted smile crossed his face. �
��Eve.”
She smiled back, her heart warming in her chest at the sight of him. His hair was adorably mussed, giving his modeled face a boyish look, but there was nothing boyish about his long, lean body as he rose from his chair and started toward her. He exuded masculine power and grace. The top tie of his shirt was undone, so that the sides fell open a few inches down, revealing a V of his chest, and Eve’s eyes were drawn to that patch of skin. She remembered how it had felt beneath her fingers and her mouth. How warm and slightly salty his flesh had been, how firm the muscle that lay beneath it.
Resolutely she pulled her mind away. “Hello, Fitz.”
He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against his chest, and for a few brief moments she luxuriated in the warmth and comfort of his embrace.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he murmured. “I saw you walking back from the garden this afternoon, and you looked tired and worried. It was all I could do not to go out there and put my arms around you.”
“I would have liked that.” Eve nestled closer, linking her arms around his waist.
“What troubled you? Can I help?” He kissed the top of her head, and they turned, walking toward the chairs that sat before the fireplace.
“I hope you can. I talked to Lily today. The situation is worse than I thought.”
“What do you mean? What has happened?” They had reached the chairs, and he released her, turning to look at her with a sharpened gaze.
“Mr. Carr has asked her to marry him.”
“What?” Fitz’s voice boomed out, and he went taut, his arms stiff at his sides. “Neville proposed to her?”
“That is what Lily told me. She said they are prepared to weather the scandal.”
“Oliver will never allow it.”
“I do not think that will stop them.”