by Sandra Heath
She moved automatically among them, murmuring empty politenesses and giving smiles that meant nothing at all. She wasn’t interested in any of them; her thoughts were entirely with Kit, but he made no move to follow her. From time to time she glanced around for a glimpse of Rowe or Thea, but as yet there seemed no sign of them, they certainly weren’t on board the Cyclops, nor was there any sign of their landau. She also glanced around for Geoffrey, but she couldn’t see him either, for which she was immensely thankful; he was one person she never wanted to see again.
Along the quay the sea gulls were becoming more and more quarrelsome, swooping and diving around the fishing boat, their cries filling the air. The two yachts swayed at their moorings, and on the Spindrift the crew were beginning to get ready to sail, but on the Cyclops there was still no sign of activity as they waited for Rowe to put in an appearance.
At last another carriage was heard approaching, its clatter only just audible above the noise of the sea gulls. Thinking that it must be the Rowe landau, Louisa turned to look in the direction of the sound, but by the respectful stir of the crowd she swiftly realized that the new arrivals weren’t the Rowes, but the Duke of Gloucester and his sister, Princess Sophia. Her pulse quickened. Was she about to be presented to royalty? Her eyes fled nervously toward Kit, who was coming quickly over to her.
The royal carriage, a splendid black-and-silver vehicle drawn by cream horses and sporting liveried footmen, came slowly along the quay, the duke and his sister acknowledging the cheers of the crowd. It drew to a halt alongside the Highclare vehicle, and the duke opened his door to lean out and look at Kit. ‘Ah, there you are, Highclare. Going to give us a run for our money, eh? What?’ He raised a quizzing glass to his rather bulbous eyes, surveying Louisa with considerable interest.
Kit drew her forward. ‘Your highness, may I present my wife.’
The duke continued to survey her. ‘Charmed,’ he murmured. ‘Absolutely charmed.’
The princess leaned out then, graciously inclining her head and smiling.
Louisa had already sunk into a low curtsy, which she hoped was as graceful as it was respectful. ‘Your highnesses.’
The princess looked chidingly at Kit. ‘Fie, sir, you should not be staying out at Highclare; you should be here in Cowes so that we may enjoy your bride’s delightful company more often. I trust you’ll be attending the ball?’
It was tantamount to a royal command, and Kit had no option but to consent. ‘We will, your highness.’
‘Good. I trust too that you’ll keep a dance for me, for I’ve a mind to be seen treading a measure with the most handsome man in town.’
‘Your highness.’ Kit bowed.
The royal pair sat back again and the duke closed the carriage door, rapping his cane on the roof so that the coachman urged the cream horses on again.
The earl slid over to stand next to Kit and Louisa. ‘Well, my boy, I think you can be proud of your bride, for she acquitted herself very well just then.’
‘Yes.’ The single word was clipped.
‘Is that all you have to say? Don’t tell me you’re in a pet because you’ve got to attend the ball, after all? I don’t know what’s got into you, but I do know that your recent conduct is most out of character. What’s the matter? I can’t believe that you’re still hankering after that Rowe hussy, not when you have a divinity like Louisa.’
Kit was caught completely off guard by his grandfather’s revelation that he knew about Thea. His glance went accusingly toward Louisa.
The earl shook his head sternly. ‘Don’t blame her, boy, I’ve known for some time. I also know all about your sham of a marriage, I wormed it out of Louisa when you made her cry yesterday. You don’t come out of this very well in my eyes, Kit, but I’m prepared to concede that you must have a very good reason for behaving as you do.’
With this, the earl took Louisa’s hand and once again drew her away from Kit, leading her through the crowd to continue meeting the bewildering succession of titled people who all seemed eager to make her acquaintance. Quite suddenly, her attention was snatched away by the utterance of a single word: Lawrence.
It was one of the Misses Carpenter who said it. She was seated in the Grantham landau with her sister and Lady Grantham. ‘Lawrence Park must have been in turmoil,’ she was saying, her voice barely audible above the continuing noise of the sea gulls. ‘Poor Sir Ashley received the news very badly indeed.’
‘What news?’ inquired Lady Grantham.
‘That Captain Lawrence and Lady Lawrence were lovers.’
Lady Grantham was startled. ‘How terrible! How did he find out?’
‘Quite by accident. Do you know Lady Dales?’
‘Your aunt? Yes.’
‘Well, she was driving through Brentford recently when her carriage drew up next to Sir Ashley’s. He asked her if her health was now fully recovered. She replied that she hadn’t been ill, to which Sir Ashley responded that he thought she’d been most unwell and had been visited overnight by Lady Lawrence. My aunt knew nothing of this and said so. Sir Ashley drove home, evidently in a great stew, and when he got there, he found a most peculiar communication waiting for him. It was anonymous and informed him that his wife had a lover.’
Miss Carpenter sat back, pausing for dramatic effect. ‘Well, the note may have been anonymous, but the sender could be identified easily enough because the paper reeked of the special Spanish cigars Captain Lawrence had made specially for him. Thinking that his son was trying to break news of Lady Lawrence’s infidelity with someone else, Sir Ashley faced her with the note’s charges, at the same time mentioning from whom the communication had come. She broke down immediately and shocked poor Sir Ashley to the core by confessing all, including the fact that her lover was none other than Captain Lawrence. It seems there’d been some bad feeling; she’d done something the captain resented very much, and he’d thought only to punish her by sending the note, instead of which it all came back on his head as well.
‘Sir Ashley wouldn’t believe her at first, accusing her of vindictiveness, but she told him that she and the captain had stayed overnight at the Green Dragon in Brentford. Sir Ashley checked and found that this was indeed so. He acted swiftly after that, throwing her out of the house and disinheriting his son. Now his little daughter is his sole heir. Captain Lawrence is leaving the island on this morning’s packet, I saw him embarking a few minutes ago. No doubt he hopes to win his father’s affection back, but I don’t think he will succeed.’
Lady Grantham sat back, amazed by it all. ‘But how on earth do you know all this?’
‘Well, after encountering Sir Ashley, my aunt Lady Dales was concerned that she might have said something out of turn, and so she went to Lawrence Park. She had it from Sir Ashley himself, so you may believe that every word is true.’
In spite of her own problems, Louisa smiled to herself. Lady Lawrence and Geoffrey had got what they deserved, and now Emma would be happy again, enjoying the love of her father just as she had done before the advent of his malicious wife.
The sea gulls were still squabbling by the fishing boat, fighting over the scraps thrown out from the morning catch. Beyond their clamor she heard another carriage approaching along the quay, and as the crowd parted to let it through, she saw that it was the Rowe landau. Its hoods were down and Thea and Rowe could be plainly seen. Thea was exquisitely lovely in lime green, the soft plumes of her little hat fluttering prettily in the breeze.
Louisa’s glance was drawn unwillingly toward Kit. He was gazing at his bewitchingly beautiful mistress.
31
The Rowe landau drew up behind the Highclare carriage. The horses were sweating and stamping, as if they’d been driven at speed all the way from the villa on the hillside, and they were nervous, capering a little at the crush of people. The coachman endeavored to keep them steady, but the nearside leader was particularly uneasy, tossing its head, its eyes rolling. It reared up a little as the sea gulls farther along the q
uay set up a renewed clamor when more fish were discarded from the catch. There were gasps from the ladies in the crowd as the horse lurched momentarily toward the very edge of the quay, its hooves striking sparks from the cobbles.
In the open carriage, the two occupants could be clearly seen by one and all. Thea had seldom looked lovelier than she did today, for lime green suited her particularly well. There was a hint of rouge on her lips and cheeks, and her violet eyes seemed a little uneasy, but that was the only sign she gave that all was not well in her life.
Beside her, Rowe looked even more drawn than the day before, and it was obvious to everyone that he was in greater pain from his wounded arm. A fawn coat was resting gingerly around his shoulders, and he held his arm awkwardly, as if the slightest movement caused him utter agony. His hat was tilted uncharacteristically back on his head, allowing the sunlight to fall fully on his strained face, revealing its ghastly pallor.
The horses were still very restive as he alighted, stepping down on the side away from the edge of the quay. He moved carefully, protecting his arm at all times, and the crowd began to murmur, for it was obvious to everyone that he wasn’t in any condition at all to take part in the race.
Kit thought so too and went quickly over to him to offer to postpone the race.
Rowe turned immediately, a cruel twist to his pale lips. ‘Well, Highclare, I trust you’re ready to be humiliated, for that’s what’s about to befall you today.’
‘I’ll never be ready for humiliation, Rowe, but I am ready to put the race off until you’re fully recovered.’ Kit glanced at Thea, whose lovely eyes hadn’t left him.
Rowe’s laugh was cold. ‘Postpone it? Never.’ He spoke in a loud enough tone for everyone to hear.
‘Be sensible, man,’ said Kit, ‘everyone can see you’re not up to it.’
‘Can they, indeed? Well, I’m up to it, all right, make no mistake. Be a coward if you wish, Highclare, but don’t expect me to aid and abet you. The race goes on.’
Kit’s eyes had flashed with anger at being publicly called a coward, and now he gave a stiff inclination of his head. ‘Very well, if you wish the race to proceed, proceed it will.’
Seeing that he was about to turn away, Thea suddenly stretched out her hand to him, needing to touch him again, even though Rowe was watching. ‘May – may the best man win, Lord Highclare,’ she said.
Kit hesitated, but then took the hand and drew it to his lips.
Louisa felt a deep pain as she watched. Next to her, the earl watched as well. ‘My dear, he’s your husband, not hers. You told me you’d resolved to fight for him, so do it. Don’t allow her even an inch. Just follow your heart, do what it tells you and you won’t go wrong.’
Kit had left Thea now and was coming back toward her. Louisa stared at him. Do what her heart told her? It was telling her to run to him, to hold him close and tell him how much she loved and needed him.
The earl urged her again. ‘Claim him, Louisa. He’s yours.’
Suddenly the shackles seemed to fall from her and everything was crystal-clear. Of course she had to go to him and confess her love, she’d been blind not to do it before. Gathering her skirt, she hurried across the few yards separating them, startling both him and the onlookers by flinging her arms around him and kissing him passionately on the lips. There were gasps at such an uninhibited display from Lady Highclare, and she caught Kit completely unaware, but she was oblivious to everything except the need to at last show him how she really felt.
Thea stood motionless by the landau, her violet eyes flashing as she recognized Louisa’s actions for what they were. The creature loved him and actually had the presumption to try to win him.
Rowe was paying little attention to what was going on on the quay, for one of his crew had called him over to the water side of the landau to examine one of the hasty repairs carried out to the cutter before she’d left London. He stood on the very edge of the quay, the inky, shining strip of water between the harbor and the yacht lying directly below; it was an ever-changing strip of water because the Cyclops was moving at her moorings.
Kit didn’t want to respond to Louisa, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to hold and kiss her. His hands moved slowly to her waist, pulling her close, and there were cheers from the watching crowd as he returned her ardor. Dear God, how he loved her.…
Her face was flushed as she drew back to look into his eyes. ‘I love you, Kit, I love you so much that I can’t go on any longer without telling you. I haven’t meant any of the dreadful things I’ve said, I only said them because you hurt me so much. I’m innocent of doing anything wrong, please believe me.
A gladness sang through him. He didn’t care about anything except that she loved him. He cupped her face in his hands. ‘Louisa, I—’ He broke off because suddenly the sea gulls’ noise rose to a deafening crescendo. Pandemonium broke out by the fishing boat as one bird managed to fly off with the last fish and was pursued by the others up the quay. They swooped low, their wings startling and very white, and their furious cries resounded from every corner of the harbor.
It all happened in a moment. The landau’s nervous team shifted uneasily, the nearside leader once again tossing its head and rearing a little. The coachman shouted a warning to Rowe, who still stood with his back toward the horses. He whirled about, realizing too late the danger he was in. The rearing animal struck him full force on his wounded arm and he gave an agonized scream as a searing pain engulfed him. He lost consciousness, his knees sagging, and Louisa’s breath caught on a horrified gasp as he slowly fell over the edge of the quay into the dangerously deep and narrow water below.
For a moment everyone was stunned. The sea gulls continued their noise and the unhappy coachman strove to control the horses, afraid that at any moment they’d panic completely and drag the landau after Rowe into the water.
Kit, who’d been as thunderstruck as anyone, recovered from the initial shock and reacted quickly, dashing to the edge of the quay and tearing off his coat and boots before climbing over the lip of the wharf and dropping down into the constantly changing water below. The Cyclops was closing in a little, the breeze edging her toward the quay, and a woman screamed as it seemed that the yacht would crush anyone caught between her and the quay, but then the breeze dropped and the yacht became still.
Thea remained where she was as everyone else pressed forward to see what was happening. Her thoughts were suddenly far from Louisa’s fight for Kit. Let Rowe be dead, let him be dead! She wanted to be free of him.
Lord Grantham had hurried down some stone steps leading to the water, and he called to Kit. ‘Get him over here if you can. Is he still alive?’
Rowe’s body was floating in the narrow water, the Cyclops looming menacingly over him, but he was face-up and so at least couldn’t drown. A deep gash marked his white forehead, and blood was oozing swiftly from it as Kit managed to reach him. ‘He’s alive, but he’s losing a lot of blood!’
A murmur spread through the crowd, and Thea breathed in sharply, her eyes bitter. Alive. She wasn’t to be free of him! The joyous prospect was being snatched away as swiftly as it had been set before her. She collected herself then, for if Rowe had survived, she must ape the distraught wife. With a belated but admirably convincing sob, she hurried to the top of the steps just as Lord Grantham, assisted now by several other gentlemen, pulled Rowe out of the water.
Lady Grantham and the Misses Carpenter hurried dutifully to comfort her, endeavoring to pull her away from such a distressing scene, but she gave a remarkably consummate performance, refusing to budge until she’d seen that her husband was all right. She bent tearfully over his unconscious body as he was carried to the top of the steps, and had to be restrained from flinging herself on him as they set him down for a moment.
No one watching could have guessed that her anguish was all an act – except Louisa and the earl, of course, who both looked on in disgust as she wept her crocodile tears.
Kit hauled himself f
rom the water, accepting his coat and boots from a small boy who’d brought them down to him in the hope of a penny or two. Kit obliged him and then pulled on the boots, glancing up to the top of the steps to where Lady Grantham and the other ladies were still trying to calm Thea’s hysteria.
Through her effusive sobs, Thea was watching him all the time. Her glance lingered on the way his fair hair curled tightly with the wet, and how his shirt and breeches clung revealingly to his body. She wasn’t going to surrender him to a mere governess – he was hers, and he’d always be hers! As she saw him begin to come up the steps, her sobs increased, and the moment he reached the top, she ran to him, flinging her arms about his neck just as Louisa had done only minutes before. She cried out her gratitude to him for saving her husband’s life, and she pressed against him, seeming for all the world like a distraught woman thanking her husband’s savior, but all the time she was exulting in embracing him in front of his wife.
As the men carried Rowe away to the nearby Mermaid Inn and a boy was sent to bring the surgeon, who resided in a street not far away, Louisa watched stricken as Kit put his arms around his sobbing mistress to comfort her. What a fool she’d made of herself, confessing her love and baring her innermost soul, only to see him reaffirming his love for another woman in front of the whole world. He was still Thea’s, and he always would be.
32
Kit was aware that Thea was in danger of drawing too much attention, and so he quickly moved away from her, appealing to Lady Grantham, who still stood nearby with the Misses Carpenter. ‘Would you look after her while I go and see what’s happening with Rowe?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Lady Grantham hurried willingly forward.
Thea had no intention of being separated from Kit. ‘No,’ she cried tearfully. ‘No, I must see my husband as well, I won’t stay out here.’