by Ruth Owen
* * *
“If you please, Miss Winthrope. The dowager would like to see you in her rooms.”
Sabrina glanced up from her needlework at the politely bobbing maid. It was a welcome interruption—the poor cherub she’d been attempting to stitch all morning looked more like an overgrown melon. She’d only undertaken the activity to try to take her mind off Edward. As if anything could erase the memory of their passionate night together…
“Miss?”
“Oh, y-yes,” Rina stammered. “Thank you, Violet. I’ll attend to Grandmother directly.” And I’d best have a few more of my wits about me when I do.
The dowager’s apartment was decorated all in blue, with a view of the sun-dappled sea through her windows. When Rina entered, the glass panes were thrown open, letting in the salt breeze and the low thunder of the distant surf.
“Prudence.”
Rina whirled around, surprised by the weariness in Lady Penelope’s voice. That surprise turned to alarm when she saw that the dowager was lying in bed, pale against the azure pillows. She ran to the bedside. “Grandmother, you’re ill!”
“I’m old,” Lady Penelope corrected as she pushed herself to a sitting position. “There is no cure for that. Now, do not fuss. I get these spells every so often. They pass with rest.”
“Then I will come back later when you are stronger.”
“Later will not do. I’ve an important matter to discuss with you, my dear.”
“Surely it can wait until you are feeling stronger.”
“It most certainly cannot. I told you once that little happens in this house without my knowledge.” Her weariness dropped away as she squared her shoulders. “You spent last night in my grandson’s rooms, and I want to know what you mean to do about it.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
This time it was Sabrina who turned pale. “I…I believe you are mistaken. I did speak with the earl in his rooms last night, but I left—”
“At five in the morning. In a torn dress. With your hair in a tangle. My source was very thorough. I am old, my dear, but not so old that I cannot recall what a woman looks like when she’s just been made love to.”
Rina bent her head, a fierce blush creeping up her throat. “I suppose ‘twould be useless to deny it.”
“A prudent observation,” Lady Penelope proclaimed. A touch of scandal definitely brought the roses back to her cheeks. She leaned over and patted the bed beside her, urging Sabrina to sit down. “Now, I ask you again. What do you intend to do about it?”
I mean to steal your necklace and break all your hearts, Rina thought bleakly. “Perhaps you should ask Edward when he returns.”
The dowager harrumphed. “That boy has been angry as a bee-stung bear ever since you arrived. Any fool with eyes could have seen he was mad for you. The fact he took you into his bed proves it—Edward would not have done such a thing unless he intends to make you his bride. But, while I have always been certain of my grandson’s heart, I am not so sure of yours.”
She leaned forward, her proud countenance revealing an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Edward’s father, my son, was a disappointment to me. He cared for nothing save money and power. But Edward has his grandfather’s spirit. Every time I look at him, I see the image of my own dear Henry…” She paused, and wiped a tear from her eye. “Edward has a bold and generous heart, but Isabel nearly destroyed it. Another false love might finish the job. So I need to know—do you or do you not love my grandson?”
Sabrina turned her gaze to the window. For a moment she watched the seagulls wheel and dip over the open water, and listened to their lost, plaintive cries. “I love him,” she confessed hesitantly. Then the sob that had been building in her throat broke free, and she threw herself into the dowager’s arms. “Oh, Grandmother, I love him dreadfully.”
She cried against Lady Penelope’s shoulder, weeping out her anguish in raking sobs. The old woman stroked her hair, cradling the girl in her arms in a way no one had done since Rina’s mother died. “Honestly, you children—always weathering some crisis or another. I’ve no doubt you and Edward will have your share of stormy seas, but if you love one another everything will come out right in the end. Now, you dry your eyes. I have something I want to give you.”
Rina loved the old woman dearly, but her staunch belief that she and Edward would find happiness was like a knife in her heart. Scrubbing away the last of her tears, she slipped off the satin bedcover. “I appreciate your advice, Grandmother. But I assure you, I want nothing from—”
Her words died as Lady Penelope placed the Dutchman’s Necklace into her hands.
Rina stared at the diamonds, pouring their glittering beauty over and over again between her fingers. Somewhere, as if over a vast distance, she heard the dowager’s voice.
“…given to me by my husband on our wedding night. I always intended to pass it on to Isabel, but something held me back. I think now it must have been because, as much as I cared for the girl, she was not the right woman for my grandson. She did not love Ravenshold as Edward did—I saw it in your eyes the day you arrived at Ravenshold. You can share that part of my grandson’s soul that he could never share with his first wife.”
She reached up and brushed Rina’s cheek. “I used to fear what would happen to my dear boy and my family after I am gone. I fear it no longer. You have brought love and laughter back to this household, back to all of us. Take the Dutchman, my dear. Wear it proudly. It is your birthright, for you are one of us. You are, in every way that matters, a true Trevelyan.”
The Dutchman’s Necklace was the reason she had come to this place, the fortune she had been risking her neck for all these months. She didn’t have to sneak into the dowager’s rooms. She didn’t have to break into the safe. All she had to do was slip the gems into her pocket, and leave them there until she met Quinn later on this evening. She could almost hear Daniel Murphy’s voice whispering in her ears. Your ship’s come in, Rina-lass. I always told you it would.
All she had to do was to lie to an old woman one last time. What was one more lie on top of the hundreds she had already told? The family would find out the truth about her in a few days anyway. Lady Luck had dumped a fortune into her hands—she would be England’s biggest fool not to take it.
She lifted her gaze, prepared to falsely reassure the dowager that the necklace, and her grandson’s heart, would be safe in her care. She met Lady Penelope’s eyes—eyes that gleamed brighter than any gemstone. Edward’s eyes. You are, in every way that matters, a true Trevelyan.
Make that world’s biggest fool, Sabrina thought as she handed the necklace back to the dowager
* * *
“Take a deep breath, Quinn,” Rina said as she pounded him on the back. “Yes, that’s it. You will be all right in a minute.”
“The hell I will! You gave it back. You had the Dutchman in your hand, yours for the takin’, and you gave it ba—”
He gripped his chest, seized by another fit of sputtering coughing. Rina made him sitdown on the stone fence that ran beside the little-used back road Quinn had chosen for their evening rendezvous. “You must try to relax. Otherwise you might injure your health.”
“That’s rich. You throw away the only chance we ‘ad for a future, and you’re worried about my health.” He glared at her, stroking back his copper fringe so hard she thought he might pull out what was left of his hair. “God’s teeth, lass, whatever possessed you to do something so bottle-witted?”
Grazing nearby she saw the pair of horses Quinn had procured for their getaway, a getaway she was not going to be a part of. “I could not take the necklace. Quinn—I’m going to stay.”
“You’re what?!” He jumped to his feet, his words tumbling out all at once. “You can’t mean…bloody crazy thing to…you don’t know what you’re…are you mad?”
“No. But I cannot hurt anyone in this family, especially Edward. He—he asked me to marry him.”
“Oh, lass. You can’t think that
he’ll wed you. Not after he learns the truth.”
“Nor would I accept him, even if he still wanted to. But I must tell him the truth about who I am—with my own lips. Otherwise, I will not be able to—” She dragged in a breath, barely holding back the tears. “I’m sorry, Quinn. You have done so much for me, and I know ‘tis not the way you wanted this to end.”
“No, it ain’t. Not by a bleedin’ long shot.” He went to the stile and angrily scooped up his hat. “I won’t tell you you’re being a fool—you already know that. But I’ll be jiggered if’n I’ll be a fool with you.”
He glanced down the deserted lane, nodding towards the horses. “You can come with me or no. ‘Tis your choice. But if you choose the Black Earl, that’s an end between us. My neck’s the only thing I got left, and I ain’t gonna risk it on pure folly, even for Daniel Murphy’s daughter. So, what’s it to be, lass?”
Sabrina pressed her fist to her heart. She knew Quinn was right. It was lunacy to risk telling Edward the truth about her deception. At best he would cast her off. At worst he would call the magistrate, and have her dragged back to London to stand trial for Albert’s murder. And even if, by some miracle, he still wanted to marry her, she would have to deny both their hearts. She loved him too much to let him destroy his family honor by marrying a murderer. No matter what she did, she would end up heartbroken. And yet…
“Quinn, I cannot let him think I have betrayed him without remorse, as his first wife did. Even if it means my death, I cannot.”
For a long moment Quinn stared at her. Then without a word he stomped off toward the horses. A sharp pain creased Rina’s heart. She loved Quinn and it hurt her to have him walk away from her without so much as a good-bye. She watched as he grabbed the bridle of one horse and mounted the other, then rode off with both of them into the gathering darkness.
The fog was beginning to roll in from the sea. Rina pulled her mist-damp cloak around her and headed back toward Ravenshold. She hadn’t gone a dozen steps before she heard the sound of hooves behind her. For a moment she nourished the crazy hope that Quinn had returned to say good-bye. But the figure that emerged from the swirling mist rode a high-stepping thoroughbred, and wore a black mourning dress. “Cassie?”
“Thank God,” the distraught lady cried as she pulled her horse to a halt. “I was coming to Ravenshold to see you. Paris left for London this morning, but I stayed behind to deliver some last-minute instructions to the staff. I was planning to join him this evening, but when I found—” She dropped the reins and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, Prudence, you must come with me to Fitzroy Hall at once. I know what happened to Isabel.”
* * *
Lady Rumley held the lantern close to the ornate paneling. “The switch is here somewhere. I just have to—ah, this is it.” She pressed a small carved rose. With a hushed click, a portion of the wall swung noiselessly open. “Come, Prudence. I’ve found the smuggler’s door.”
Sabrina looked with concern over the lady’s shoulder at the dank, cobweb-covered stone stairway beyond. Cassie had explained that her brother had stumbled onto a secret door in Fitzroy Hall, and discovered that it led to a network of caves that had been used by smugglers to store their illicit goods. Still, the connection eluded Rina. “What has Paris’s discovery of this secret passage got to do with Edward’s first wife?”
“I’ll show you. Follow me.”
Before Rina could stop her, Cassie disappeared around the first bend in the descending stairway. She had no choice but to follow.
The place smelled like a dungeon. Mold and foul water pooled in the low spots of the rough-hewn passage, and the ceiling was sometimes so low Rina had to bend to pass by. Every so often her lantern would illuminate a rotting, cobweb-covered pile of what had once been the smugglers’ ill-gotten gain. Beyond the lantern’s glow, Rina could hear the tell-tale rustle of scampering rats. She shivered, unnerved by the unwholesome place.
“ ‘Tis not much further,” Cassie called from up ahead.
As she hurried to catch up to her friend, Rina saw that Cassie was standing on the stone-lined edge of what appeared to be a well.
“The smugglers used thiswell to store their kegs of brandy,” Cassie explained. “The steep walls prevented the occasional tippler from sampling the inventory.”
History lessons were the last thing Rina wanted at the moment. “But what has any of this got to do with Isabel?”
“The smugglers and wreckers used these passages for almost a hundred years,” Cassie intoned, apparently determined to continue her lesson. “But some fifty years ago, the secret to the caves was lost. The saboteur stumbled on it years ago, and determined that the passages could be used to some advantage—but only if they were kept a secret. That is why Wheal Grace’s new tunnel had to be destroyed. If the miners had kept digging, they would have found these caves.”
Rina’s jaw tightened. “So Paris thought he could accomplish two goals at once—destroy the tunnel and kill Edward.”
“No!” Cassie’s sharp protest rang through the passageways. “Edward was never supposed to be hurt. The goal was only to keep this place a secret.”
“But what is so blasted special about these caves?”
Cassie raised her lantern high, and pointed down into the well.
Wonderful. Another history lesson, Rina thought in frustration as she turned her gaze into the well. The smooth-walled opening was twice as deep as a man’s height, and empty of the brand kegs it had once guarded. In fact, there didn’t seem to be anything at all in the well, save for a small bundle of rags in the corner. It was hard to make out the details in the shadows, but the rags seemed to be made of bright and unusually fine material, not the sort of thing a smuggler might wear. Frowning, Rina leaned further over the edge for a closer look. It was definitely a dress. Unusually well preserved for being half a century old. And as her gaze traced the elegant line of the well-cut sleeve, she saw the faint, dull ivory gleam of a bone.
Sabrina jerked back and stared at Cassie with horrified eyes. “It isn’t—please tell me it’s not—”
“It is Isabel,” Cassie said sadly. “That is why the saboteur could not risk these caves being found. If they found the caves, they would find her.”
Rina looked back at the poor little skeleton, the horror of what Paris had done growing with each heartbeat. “Cassie, I know you love your brother, but you cannot deny his madness any longer. We must tell the authorities. Paris is not just a prankster, he is a cold-blooded murderer.”
Cassie’s answer was strangely calm. “Not Paris. The saboteur killed Isabel.”
“Paris is the saboteur!”
Cassie placed one elegant, gloved hand on Rina’s arm, and gave her a sympathetic smile. “I am afraid you have it wrong, my dear. I am the saboteur.”
Still smiling, she shoved Rina over the edge of the well.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The first thing Sabrina was aware of was the pain in her side. The next was the warm stickiness of blood running down the side of her face. The last thing was that she was lying at the bottom of the smuggler’s well, where she’d been pushed by a woman she’d believed to be her friend.
The lantern’s glow appeared over the lip of the well. Looking up, Rina saw Lady Rumley staring down at her, still wearing her concerned smile.
“You’re alive,” she said, her pleasant voice stirring with a touch of disappointment. “Isabel survived the fall also, which was too bad. I was tolerably fond of Isabel.”
“Fond? You killed her!” Rina struggled to her feet, and felt a knife of pain stab through her ankle. She leaned against the wall, balancing her weight on her good leg, and glared up at Cassie. “For God’s sake, why?”
“Because it’s mine. Ravenshold is mine. I knew that from the first moment I set eyes on it. That is why I didn’t mind it when Father kept selling our lands to the earl. I knew that one day I would have it all back. It is my destiny to become the Countess of Trevelyan.”
; Rina recalled Cassie telling her that she’d fallen in love with the land of the estate at first sight. The once innocent words took on a sinister meaning. Sabrina had been so convinced that Paris was the saboteur that she’d forgotten the fact that Cassie shared the same heritage of madness as her brother. “You will never get away with this. Edward will find you out.”
“As he found out about Isabel?” Cassie indifferently flicked a bit of dust from her sleeve. “For years I waited for him to grow tired of his bride. I even encouraged Paris to form an attachment for Edward’s simpering sister—which gave me ample opportunity to visit Ravenshold. But the earl proved resolutely attached to the little chit. So I started to foster her distrust. I filled her mind with tales of Edward’s infidelity. It was ridiculously easy—Isabel believed every word I said. But I miscalculated—just as I miscalculated with you, when I stopped my efforts to be rid of you after I saw your face. It never occurred to me that Edward would fall in love with such a plain woman. But in the end my oversight did not matter, any more than it mattered with Isabel. One day she confessed to me that she was going to have another child. For the sake of her growing family, she told me that she was going to confront Edward with the ‘dalliances’ I told her of, and to tell him that she was willing to give him a second chance because she still loved him with all her heart. It was quite touching, really. But of course I could not allow it. If Edward had found out that I’d been telling lies to his gullible wife, he’d have lost all regard for me. So I took Isabel to see the smugglers’ caves that I’d stumbled on as a child. That, too, was ridiculously easy.”