The duchess called her over. “My dear, how are you this morning? We were so sorry to hear that you took a fall yesterday. Oh, but the race was just splendid! His Grace and I cannot remember the last time we enjoyed ourselves so much.”
“I am glad you enjoyed it, Your Grace. I am a bit sore this morning, but nothing to be concerned about.”
“I confess to being a bit sore myself this morning,” the duchess said. “Most of us continued racing just to keep up enough to see what would happen. Such a surprise that Lord Chesdale should win, although afterwards we wondered why we did not expect it.” The lady chuckled. “Lord Newcroft certainly did give him a run for his money.”
A man of few words compared to his wife the duke made a rare comment. “Humph. Lord Newcroft thinks he must prove himself over and over again—always afraid someone will cast up to him the fact that his father was in trade.”
Venetia had noticed that Lord Newcroft worked very hard at winning. Yet he had not seemed overly attentive to either her or Vivian. How badly did he want to win the hand of one of the twins? She had assumed the blackmailer’s motivation must be financial, but now she wondered if that might not be the case. A connection by marriage to a powerful duke would certainly be an asset to a very ambitious and wealthy viscount.
She hurried through her breakfast and went in search of her sister to share this new insight. Vivian was not to be found in the gardens, so Venetia returned to the house. She enlisted several footmen to help her, for Vivian could be anywhere in the huge residence. She tried the ancient chapel, a fourteenth century relic that had been incorporated into the house, knowing that Vivian at times liked to go there. Failing that, she tried the library, half expecting that not only her sister but also Lord Cranford might be there.
The viscount was indeed in the library, so engrossed in a large book on Italian architecture that he did not notice her until she stood directly before him, coughing discreetly to catch his attention. Obviously startled, he leaped to his feet, still clutching the heavy leather volume.
“Lady Venetia! I did not see you there. Uh, good morning.”
She smiled, amused to watch his face reflect surprise, pleasure, and then embarrassment in turn.
“I wondered whether you might have seen my sister Vivian this morning?” You must not let on that you know they have met here before, she reminded herself. “I came down late to breakfast, and I am looking for her.”
“I did see her at breakfast, a good while ago. She was dressed to go riding. I noted it, actually, not only because she looked splendid, of course, but because I thought Nicholas told me yesterday that she seldom rides.”
A frisson of alarm went through Venetia. “That is true,” she said quietly, trying to cover her reaction. It would not do to show unusual concern over something that for most people was a normal activity. And the chances were that Vivian would be fine. Perhaps she had gone out with Nicholas, or one of their own grooms. But all of Venetia’s instincts were suddenly screaming at her in warning. “I—I think I’ll go to the stables to check,” she said, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt.
“I’ll go with you,” Cranford volunteered.
Venetia was too upset to protest. Having Cranford with her forced her to act calmly. Otherwise she might have run all the way to the stableyard, causing a host of unwelcome questions. She walked, but quickly.
“Did she happen to mention if she was going with anyone?” She winced. To her own ears she sounded breathless, like her aunt.
“I don’t believe she said.”
“It is not like her to go off this way. She doesn’t ride often, and when she does one of us is always with her. I don’t understand.” She was talking more to herself than to him.
By the time they reached the stables, she no longer cared if Cranford saw that she was worried. He might wonder why all he liked. Something more had pushed her closer to the edge of panic—the rumble of thunder in the distance.
Riding itself was no threat to Vivian; the danger was the possibility of a seizure while she was doing it. The twins and Nicholas had learned to recognize when seizures were most likely to strike: if Vivian became overtired, for instance, or if she was exposed to abrupt changes of light. They had learned to cope and to compensate, but occasionally a seizure would strike without warning, for no apparent reason at all.
The flashes of lightning that came with a thunderstorm guaranteed trouble. Venetia prayed that Nicholas was with her twin, or at least that Vivian would have returned by now. The safest place for her sister was in her own room until the storm was over.
One look at the uneasy stablehands confirmed Venetia’s worst fear. “She has not returned, has she?” she blurted out without preamble. “Is my brother with her?”
The head groom approached her, hat in hand, his eyes on his boot toes. “No, my lady.”
“Who is with her, then?”
“The Marquess of Ashurst. And I sent Tom Dixon with them. She was determined that she would go, miss. ’Twas not my place to argue.”
He was right, of course. “I’m sorry, Griffiths, it’s not your fault. Have you any idea where they went?”
“No, my lady. Wish to God I did.”
Venetia paced a few steps in a circle. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Will they not be all right?” asked Cranford.
“I am sure they must be returning.” What if they did not get back in time? Would Tom Dixon know what to do, or be able to explain to Lord Ashurst? As far as Venetia knew, the young groom had never seen Vivian actually suffer a seizure. And what of Ashurst? He would likely be horrified. Would he then feel obliged to tell everyone what he’d seen? The blackmailer would be thwarted, assuming it wasn’t Ashurst, but the family would be ruined and God only knew what fate would befall Vivian then. Oh, why had Vivian insisted on doing this? She would have to go after her.
Hands on her shoulders abruptly stopped Venetia from moving. She looked up to see Cranford, his eyes full of concern. “You will make yourself dizzy.”
She realized she had been pacing in a tight little circle with increasing speed that reflected her agitated state. She also realized with surprise that she was not used to having someone express concern over her own well-being. She was the strong one, the lioness, the one who had escaped from the accident with hardly a scratch. She was always fine—everyone expected it, including herself. It surprised her that she rather liked the concern, especially coming from Cranford. Even so, she could not allow him to come with her. If Vivian had a seizure before they got back, he would only be another witness.
“Thank you,” she said, offering a shaky smile. Before she could go after Vivian, she would have to get him to go back to the house. “Since Lord Ashurst and one of our grooms are with her, I’m certain she will be fine. You may as well go back in.”
“Without you?”
“I think I will wait here for them, but you do not need to. Thank you for your help.”
Did the man not know a dismissal when he heard one? She was not dressed to go riding; there was no reason for him not to believe her. He looked dubious, and for a moment she feared he would not go. Then with a “very well, then,” he took himself off. As soon as he was gone, she called for her horse Artemis. By the time the mare was saddled and she headed out of the stableyard, she assumed Cranford was safely back in the main house. She had an idea where Vivian might have chosen to go and set off for a trail that led up to the north pastures.
***
Gilbey was not surprised to see Venetia head out of the stableyard without him. He took note of her direction and ducked back into the stables, calling for a horse and letting Griffiths know by the look in his eyes that he would tolerate no questions or delay. “And don’t try to foist old Jonquil on me, either,” he added. “She and I are well acquainted after yesterday.”
Gilbey guessed that the stablehands may have been relieved to see him go after Venetia, for although Griffiths said nothing, the horse they provided had to be one of the duke’s finest. “Might ’ave won that race yesterday, with a different rider,” was all the groomsman said as the animal was brought out.
“Well, this is a race, too,” Gilbey answered as he mounted. A rumble of thunder dramatized his remark.
It did not take him long to catch Venetia. He was riding hell-bent as fast as he dared, while she had no idea he was coming behind her. He caught up with her in an open field. When he came into view she made a halfhearted attempt to sprint away from him but apparently she thought better of it after a moment, circling her horse around to face him.
“Why did you follow me?” she demanded, her words more accusation than question.
“Why did you pretend you were not going to go?”
“You spied on me!”
“You lied to me!”
“What if I did? What makes it your business? Why can’t you leave me alone?”
That last was the real question, wasn’t it? What could he say? Fate hasn’t allowed it. I meant to. I wanted to. I’m too much of a fool?
His best answer was a question. “If you are so worried about your sister out here with two grown men with her, why shouldn’t someone be concerned that you are out here alone?”
That stopped her for a moment. “I—I am going to meet them.”
“What if the storm spooked your horse before, you found them? What if you fell, as you did yesterday? Who would find you? What in God’s name can you do for them that they cannot do for themselves?”
She tossed her head in the arrogant way that he had grown to like, but as she did he thought he caught the glitter of moisture in her eyes. He urged his horse closer.
She brushed her eyes with a quick, impatient gesture. “I can’t tell you. It’s none of your business. Please, please, just leave me alone.”
Thunder rumbled again, much closer now.
“No, I won’t,” he said. “I can’t.”
Chapter Twelve
Venetia stared at Cranford. What was she going to do about him? She could not allow him to interfere with her life. She would have to go to Nicholas—he was the one who had brought Cranford here. But now, just right now, what was she going to do?
Her horse moved restlessly as another peal of thunder rolled through the sky, adding pressure to her indecision. The greenish black edge of the storm clouds could be clearly seen advancing from the west. Where are you, Vivian? You need to be home.
As if in answer to her thought, three riders suddenly burst out of the woods into the field, riding as if devils were after them. Vivian, Lord Ashurst, and the groom slowed their horses as they approached Venetia and Lord Cranford.
“We came looking for you!” Venetia shouted over a clap of thunder. Artemis was backing and turning and she slapped the mare sharply with her crop to get her attention.
“Are you all right Vivi?” Venetia looked for any signs that would warn her of trouble. The storm had not yet reached them, and there had not yet been any bright bursts of lightning.
“I am so far. I’m sorry, Netia. Do let us hurry.”
Venetia wanted to know what had possessed her twin to go riding with Lord Ashurst, but now was not the time. Things seemed to be happening so quickly, they had not had time to talk over any of what had happened in the past few days. Or we just aren’t discussing them, she admitted more honestly. She turned Artemis around once more and urged the horse back the way they had come.
The first bright flashes of lightning lasted hardly more than the blink of an eye, and Vivian was still all right when they reached Rivington. The twins barely waited for their horses to stop before they dismounted, throwing their reins to Tom Dixon and one of the other grooms who ran out of the stable to meet them. Without a word to the gentlemen, the young women dashed out of the courtyard toward the house.
“We aren’t going to make it to our rooms, Netia,” Vivian said woefully. Large splattering drops of rain were beginning to fall around them as they ran. A large clap of thunder sounded overhead, and although there was still a delay before the lightning flashed, this time it was brighter and more sustained.
“Oh God. All I wanted was to go riding for once, like a normal person.”
“Hush, not now, Vivi. Think, where else can we go that would be private, that’s nearer?”
“The chapel. Up in the gallery. No one goes up there.”
“That’s perfect,” Venetia answered, altering her course. The chapel even had its own entrance. “We’ll try that door. Pray to God that it isn’t locked.”
***
The twins hid in the chapel gallery while the storm rumbled and pelted the house with hail and rain. Vivian suffered a seizure as soon as they got there, but when she recovered, Venetia went to her and encouraged her to curl up beside her.
“Put your head in my lap,” she suggested. “I’ll cover your eyes with our skirts and maybe that will block out enough light to prevent any more attacks.”
Huddled on the floor, they talked quietly against the roar of the rain on the chapel roof.
“Why did I go?” Vivian said, her voice somewhat muffled by skirts. “Because Lord Ashurst invited me. I did not want to say no. Do you know how it feels to be left out so often? Can you imagine how I felt yesterday, watching everyone ride off for the race, knowing I could not go with you? I get so tired of being so careful—just for once I thought I could risk it. How was I to know the weather would break this morning? It has been so beautiful.”
“Shh. I know, Vivi. I don’t blame you. It’s just that you took such a risk. Even without the storm, you know that it was a terrible risk to take—you could have been hurt, but perhaps worse was the risk of exposing your epilepsy to Lord Ashurst. Who knows what he would have done? It is not like you to take such a gamble.”
We have both been acting out of character, Venetia reflected, thinking of Vivian’s meeting with Cranford in the library, which she had yet to mention, and then considering rather guiltily that she herself had no plans to tell Vivian about Cranford’s kiss.
After an hour the storm faded away, and by then Vivian was fine. They were just making their way to the narrow twisting corner stair that led down from the gallery when they were startled to hear Cousin Adela’s voice below them.
“I see you both! I found you. Do I get double points?”
“Adela! Why, what do you mean, ‘double points’?”
“For finding two people at once. I’m on the hunters’ team.”
“Heavens,” said Venetia, thinking quickly. The guests must be playing hide and seek because of the rain. “How clever of you to find us. Is it a point per person? I should think you have earned two, even though we were in one hiding place.” She descended the stairs with Vivian behind her.
Adela giggled. “Not many people would think to look in here. But the person I’d most like to find is Lord Wistowe. Do you not think he is terribly clever?”
“Clever?” The twins exchanged a glance. “Handsome, at least.”
Adela sighed. “Anyway, I must take you back to headquarters to prove that I found you before I can go looking any further. Come along.”
Venetia put a reassuring hand on her sister’s shoulder. They would play along, for wherever “headquarters” might be, it was probably nearer to their own rooms. They desperately needed to change their clothes, for Vivian was still in her riding habit, and both of them were damp from the rain and now dusty from the chapel gallery. They both smelled of horses. As they walked through the rooms and corridors in the north wing with Adela, they heard the faint rumble of thunder again.
“Not another one,” whispered Vivian.
“I had forgotten, you don’t like storms, do you?” said
Adela. “Well, it makes perfect weather to play games inside.”
“Why don’t we let Vivian go along to her room, Adela? I can vouch for the fact that you found both of us.”
Adela hesitated, “I don’t know if that is good enough, Netia. I should think I’d have to show you both.”
Venetia felt her patience waning. “Heavens, it is only a stupid game! I’ll give my solemn oath if I must. Do you go along, Vivi, and change into your white muslin—you know, the one with the French work and blue embroidery.”
She did not care if her cousin thought the conversation peculiar—if there were to be more storms in the coming hours, she would have to play two roles, and it was essential that she and Vivian dress alike. She hoped the hide-and-seek game would continue for some time, for it would certainly make her job easier. All she had to do now was make certain she had a chance to slip off to her own room to change as well.
Vivian fled up the nearest staircase, for thunder sounded again in the distance. Venetia went on with Adela to finish their business. As soon as she was free to hide, she, too, fled to her room, but only for the time it took to change her dress and check on her sister. Then she contemplated a true hiding place, wishing she knew what rules had been established. It suited her purposes to be found rather easily, since she needed to hide and be found twice as often as anyone else.
Lamps or candles blazed in many of the ground floor rooms, lit by dutiful servants. The guests, however, undid this work in many cases. The storms lent drama to the game and advantage to those in hiding, illuminating dark rooms with sudden startling brilliance only to plunge them into darkness again in seconds. For those in a position to watch, it created the peculiar effect of highlighting the movements of the seekers by fragments, showing one first at the entrance to a room, then halfway through it, next looking into an alcove or under a table, then gone.
Gail Eastwood Page 14