by Allison Lane
“Nonsense. She has always been sweet – helping the tenants, caring for the villagers, working beside Catherine in the parish.”
“That was ten years ago, and you should know that Laura uses smiles and flattery to manipulate people. I can’t recall a single favor that wasn’t motivated by self-interest. Now that she lives on her own, she has discarded the false smiles that kept Father in line and honed her grievances – and believe me, she’s found someone to blame for every setback she’s suffered in the last ten years. Now she’s out for revenge. Tonight was just a sample. Chloe thinks she can control her, but I doubt anyone can. Laura cooperates only when it will gain her something. I told her that I’ll smear her name from one end of the kingdom to the other if she embarrasses you, but tonight proves that my threats won’t work. If she no longer cares what people think of her, her need for revenge will take precedence.”
“Dear Lord.” William wrung his hands. “What can we do? She’ll drive Martha away. She has to leave.”
“It’s a little late for that. Chloe is quitting on Sunday, so you can’t send Laura back to Moorside until you find a new companion. In the meantime, we must minimize the damage. Warn Martha to ignore Laura’s diatribes. I’ll ask Gray and Rockhurst to help watch her so we can nip the next attempt in the bud. And it might be a good idea to confine her to her room for a day. That might shock her into behaving once she again joins the company.”
William shook his head like a dog ridding itself of water. “Don’t exaggerate, Andrew. Laura is probably just irritated from her journey – you know she hates bouncing over rutted roads – but she always recovers from these starts.” He stiffened his spine, pouring a glass of brandy as he spoke. “I should not have panicked. This is the first time in a year Laura has been out in society, so of course she is nervous. I’ll talk to her. When she realizes that we still admire her beauty, she will settle down.”
“I doubt it.” Andrew paced to the window and back. “Face it, William. You have seen her only twice in four years. Last year she entertained herself by destroying Martha’s reputation. The year before, she was recuperating from her wounds. I was here at the same time, and I know very well she spent most of that period ranting and swearing revenge. From what I’ve witnessed this past week, she is rapidly losing her grip on reality.”
“What are you talking about?”
Andrew accepted brandy, then described Laura’s reaction to Sir Nigel’s death and her tirade in the carriage. By the end, even William admitted that she would likely cause trouble. But he still refused to punish her.
* * * *
“So this is where you went,” said Andrew from the music room doorway. “Why aren’t you in the drawing room?”
Chloe’s fingers crashed to a dissonant halt. She opened her mouth to order him away, but brought her tongue under control before she made a fool of herself. “The moment Laura sees me, she’ll explode in rage. It is best if she does it in private.” She shrugged.
“Don’t let her treat you like a slave.” His face darkened.
“That is part of my job. And ranting at me diverts her antagonism from others. You should not have thwarted her this evening, for even tiny setbacks make her worse. Don’t give her a complaint against you.”
“I can take it.”
“Don’t, Andrew. It would embarrass William to have you publicly brawling with your sister. Besides, she will probably blame me, not you, anyway.”
“What can she possibly blame on you?” He sounded incredulous.
She shook her head, dropping her hands into her lap. “You foiled her plot to make me miss dinner, which encourages me to look above my station – that is something she must nip in the bud. My seat at the table bestowed the same consequence as hers – more proof that I am plotting to upstage her. Several people looked closely at her face. She will think they are gloating over her misfortune – again my fault because I advocated attending this gathering, and my application of rice powder failed to conceal the damage. You criticized her at dinner, drawing censure upon her head. Since you also championed me, I must have asked you to mortify her.”
“She acts more like a four-year-old than four-and-twenty. At this rate, she could end up in an asylum.”
“It may come to that, though she’s not truly delusional.”
“Explain.”
“If she actually believed that black was white, she would not need to manipulate people into following her lead. She clings to her complaints, though. And she cannot accept that she is no longer perfect.”
“She never was.” He joined her on the bench. “It makes me sick to think of you waiting on her.”
He was so near, she could feel the heat from his body. Flustered, she changed the subject, reminding herself of her future – and his. “I’ve done some serious thinking since we last spoke. Buying a cottage in this area is a bad idea. I should move farther away, where Peter can’t find me.”
He stiffened. “Why?”
She folded her hands in her lap. “His pride will push him into interfering with my business. He has enough credit to drive away students.”
He nodded. “I never really knew Peter. How did he become so different from you and Kevin?”
“Peter inherited Father’s poor judgment and need for instant success. But he missed the pride in family and consideration for future generations that Kevin learned from birth – by the time Peter left the nursery, Father no longer cared about his children. Once Kevin died, it was too late to groom him to be the heir. The wild gaming started immediately. He and Father never met after that without conflict.” When he touched her hand, she moved to the window. His heat raised awareness of everything she couldn’t have. “Not that they’d gotten along earlier. Peter frequently demanded money. His allowance was smaller than Kevin’s had been.”
“That is no surprise. He was a younger son. Mine was smaller than William’s.”
“But Peter wanted a fortune of his own, and he shared Father’s impatience. Even before Kevin died, he was bent on making money. Afterward, it became an obsession. By the time he left Eton two years later, Father had covered massive gaming debts at least three times. He could no longer afford Oxford, so Peter came home – which made him worse.”
“So Peter inherited Sir Nigel’s weaknesses, while Kevin received your mother’s – the sensitivity and indecisiveness. You are lucky to have inherited your parents’ strengths.”
She stifled warmth from the compliment. “That’s why Kevin’s death killed her. Oh, her body lived another six years, but she died the day we heard the news. When I accepted this post with Laura, I hadn’t spoken to her in more than a year. Nor had Peter.”
“How sad.”
“True, though it made her death easier to bear. The grief had abated long before.”
Andrew moved behind her, sliding his arms around her waist in a gesture of comfort. He’d known that Chloe would feel Kevin’s death deeply, but he’d never considered how it would affect the rest of the family.
His elbow brushed a breast, snapping his libido to attention. Lust scalded every nerve, shocking him into silence. Again he had acted without thinking.
He released her, praying that she had noticed nothing wrong. He could not remind her of that meeting in the orchard. If he seduced her again, she would hate him forever. And if he rekindled her infatuation, he would hate himself.
Wishing he’d left for London before Sir Nigel’s death, he groped in vain for something to say.
She beat him to it. “In the end, Peter and Father were exactly alike. Both wanted money but lacked the patience to earn it by improving the estate or investing wisely. Both were gamesters. Father convinced himself that wild investments were more honorable than cards or dice, but the result was the same.”
“Many people make fortunes from investments,” he reminded her.
“And many win fortunes at cards. But Peter and Father never did, and I doubt Peter will change. They shared an arrogant belief that their abili
ties were superior, when in fact, both were credulous and inept. They always believed that their next venture would succeed. Father died before he lost his last stake, but Peter still believes. I don’t want to be nearby when his money runs out.”
His heart broke for her, for she was truly alone, without even family to fall back on. But there was little he could do beyond see her settled before he reported to his regiment, and it was possible he couldn’t manage even that. By the time he found a cottage elsewhere, there might be no time to reach London sufficiently intact to convince Major Barnfield that he was well. But he’d promised…
“Tomorrow we will visit Rose Cottage,” he said briskly. “Decide what is good and bad about it and where you want to move. I will find you a cottage.”
“Thank you, Andrew. You are a true friend.”
“We will leave at nine. If Laura objects, I’ll deal with her.”
He left her. If he stayed any longer, he would kiss her. And that was impossible. Never again would he risk her friendship. It was a miracle that she’d forgiven his last lapse. But he had to keep a tight rein on his libido. She was far more tempting than eleven years ago.
Stop thinking about her, he scolded himself. She was a friend, nothing more. Kevin’s sister and a childhood playmate. He should not be imagining that sable hair spread across a pillow or those tapered fingers sliding across his chest.
His temperature soared, making him swear. Not wanting to face the drawing room while wearing pantaloons that revealed every bulge, he headed for the library. He should stick to the loose canvas overalls he’d worn on the Peninsula.
The library was occupied.
“Join us,” invited Gray when Andrew hesitated in the doorway.
Thomas stood before the fireplace, sipping wine. A broad smile stretched his face. “Congratulate me, Drew,” he demanded.
“Why? Did you earn a first in Latin and not mention it?”
Thomas snorted. “Of course not. You know I hate school. I’ve tried a thousand times to convince William that Oxford is a waste of money.”
“William does not think so.”
“We will see,” said Gray, gesturing with a glass of wine. “I’ve suggested a compromise.”
Andrew poured brandy. “A compromise.” He wasn’t going to like this. Like Laura, this brother-in-law was a manipulator. Unlike Laura, Gray’s schemes sought to better the victim’s life, but he sometimes acted before learning all the facts – which was why he’d spent three years under society’s censure before Mary rescued his reputation.
Gray crossed his ankles. “Thomas wants to join the navy.”
“He would hate it. I’ve traveled on enough naval vessels to know how brutal they can be. I wouldn’t wish that life on a dog.”
Thomas gasped.
“Ships can be unpleasant,” agreed Gray, gesturing Thomas to silence. “But conditions vary widely. I think he should decide for himself.”
“Easier said than done. The navy might have dropped press gangs now that the war is over, but they are still too short of men to let one go if he decides he doesn’t like the life. Officers are in even higher demand than sailors.”
“True. Which is why I’m offering him a berth on the Gray Gull – fourth mate, which on my ships is a learning position. It is due back in October. Its next voyage will be to China, so he would be gone a year. If he’s still interested when he returns, we can discuss permanent employment. If not, he will return to Oxford without protest.”
It was a dream offer, Andrew had to admit. A chance for Thomas to prove his mettle with no strings attached. Gray’s ships had a reputation for humane conditions and good health as well as profitability. Yet he couldn’t like it. Humane or not, life at sea was tedious, uncomfortable, and dangerous.
“Is that truly what you want?” he asked Thomas, staring into his brother’s eyes.
“It is.”
“Why? If school stifles you, ships will be worse. Gray’s vessels may be more spacious than most, but not by much. Have you ever been aboard a ship? Cramped quarters. Monotonous food. No escape for weeks on end, and when you do anchor, you have no more than a few hours ashore in a place where you don’t even speak the language.”
“But I need to see such places, Andrew. I know everyone laughs at Laura’s quest for adventure, but I always understood. I’m the same way.” Passion heated his voice. “I need to cross oceans, see other lands, discover different ways of life. And I need to do it myself, not read about other people’s exploits.”
The words struck a chord. Andrew had felt the same as a young man, which was why he’d not protested the assumption that he would be a soldier.
Wanderlust, he’d called the urge in the secret recesses of his mind. The need to see what was around the corner or beyond the next hill. As a soldier he’d indulged wanderlust to its fullest, visiting South America, North America, most of Europe, and parts of Africa. He’d seen mountains that put England’s hills to shame, oceans both hot and cold, impenetrable jungles, fetid swamps, miles-wide rivers, deserts that lacked a single blade of grass.
After eleven years, the wanderlust was dead. Maybe it had succumbed to the horror of battle, for he’d faced war at the end of every journey. Or maybe it was the discovery that people were the same, no matter how exotic they appeared at first glance. Remove the odd clothes and strange voices and they were no different from his neighbors: goals, fears, squabbles, joys – all the same. In the end, the need to explore had succumbed to hardship, cynicism, and pain.
The admission explained that buried voice that hoped his leg would remain weak. He had no interest in India – not in its sights, its people, or even the chance to amass a fortune. He wanted to stay in England – surely there was some job he was qualified to do. Maybe in a few years, he and Chloe could—
He stifled the thought, forcing his mind back to Thomas. His course was set, with no way to turn back. But he couldn’t let Thomas end like him – trapped, impoverished, unable to support a family.
“I know it won’t be easy,” Thomas was saying. “But I love the sea, and I need to try.”
“I understand the temptation, Thomas. And you will probably enjoy your first voyage. The unknown casts powerful lures. But that thrill doesn’t last. You need to consider the future. I’ve known many men who bought colors or went to sea and later came to regret it. But by then they had no alternative – no other skills, no means of support, no possibility of apprenticing for another job. Finish school so you will always have choices.”
Thomas shuddered. “I cannot manage another term, Andrew. Not now. My mind cannot stay focused on books. But you needn’t fear. I could find a post as a secretary today if need be. Not that I want to. Working for a government official or lord would be as confining as school. I have to try this. Perhaps I’m following a fantasy, as Laura is wont to do, in which case I will meekly return to school and work harder. But if I don’t try, I will hate myself forever.”
Andrew nodded, recognizing Thomas’s determination – and also his sense. The boy had grown so much since his last visit home. It was hard to admit that he was no longer a child or even a stripling. Eighteen made him a man. “Then I’ll back you when you approach William. But he won’t be happy about it.”
“He forgets that I am not like him. I own no estate, so I’m free to leave. I don’t enjoy farming and don’t wish to be dependent on him. I’ve no interest in the church or in government. One soldier in the family is quite enough. But I’ve been fascinated by the sea for as long as I can remember. I used to ride to the cliffs just to gaze at the water.”
“As I said, I’ll back your decision. But there’s more to being a sailor than gazing at the ocean. It is a dangerous life. Whether you are navy or merchant, you will see battle before long. Piracy is on the rise in many seas.”
“That’s true,” said Gray, shaking his head. “I’ve lost two ships to pirates in as many years. Others have lost more. My vessels now carry heavier armaments, and every man aboard must
know how to use them. I demand regular drills.”
Andrew nodded. He didn’t like to think of his baby brother in such danger, but by eighteen Andrew had been a seasoned warrior, with the South American campaign behind him.
As he congratulated Thomas on his good fortune, envy dulled his fears. Thomas was lucky – or perhaps he was more aware of his dreams than Andrew had been. If someone had offered an apprenticeship eleven years ago, would he have had the sense to take it? Or would duty have held sway?
He finally escaped the library and headed upstairs to think. It had been a nerve-wracking day – Laura’s scheming, Chloe’s new plans, Thomas….
So many problems and so little he could do to address any of them. His head spun.
William stopped him at the top of the stairs. “There you are.” He sounded relieved. “Fields House has a new crisis.”
“What now?” He retraced his steps to the hall.
“Fire.”
“How bad?”
“Gramling and the staff extinguished it before sending the groom to fetch me. But Sir Peter is injured. It started in his room.”
Andrew cursed as they climbed into William’s carriage. Would this day never end? “What happened? Or don’t you know?”
“According to the groom, Sir Peter was in an odd humor all day, alternating between fury and euphoria, and drinking heavily. He left at four, returning at five so angry that he refused dinner. He shut himself in the library until retiring at eight. Within an hour Gramling smelled smoke. A lamp had tipped over, setting Peter’s room ablaze.”
“Why summon you instead of the doctor?”
“Gramling sent for both. The groom stopped here, then left to find Dr. Murphy, who is supposedly attending Mrs. Berger’s lying-in.”
“In which case, he may not arrive until morning. Mrs. Berger pays well. Peter does not.” He grimaced. “Did you tell Chloe?”