Indigo Moon

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Indigo Moon Page 7

by Patricia Rice


  He faced Aubree with sadness. “Her husband was born here, but he was raised and has his home in Virginia. He is by all rights a citizen of the United States and not England. Yet, after an encounter with a press gang from a British frigate, he was impressed into the service of His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”

  “Impressed, my lord?” she inquired, covering her confusion.

  “Shanghaied, abducted, forced into slavery in the stinking galleys of rotting frigates where no sane man would go willingly. That is why the Navy must sneak through the streets of coastal cities and carry off the dregs of humanity to man their ships. It is a criminal policy for British citizens, but to apply it to Americans is grounds for war. We will see one soon enough if Parliament does not have the wisdom to put an end to it.”

  “You mean, they have abducted your brother-in-law and forced him to work as a sailor?”

  “He is a sailor, and a fine one, but it is doubtful if they will make full use of his talents. Adrian has a singular knack for making trouble. He is hotheaded, stubborn, and rebellious as only a Virginian knows how to be. By now he will have promoted mutiny and been thrown in the brig or worse. My sister fears for his life and rightfully so. The conditions aboard some of those ships are inhuman. My sister is left with two small children in a foreign land with no idea of whether she will ever see her husband again. Your father is almost our last hope.”

  “My father has agreed to find this Adrian if we marry?”

  “He will use what powers he has to do so, or give me a warrant to locate the ship and seek Adrian myself. You see why I am torn by this decision he forces on us.” Without breaking stride, Austin finished, “I have agreed to his terms.”

  He met her gaze implacably. He would have married a penniless hag if he could accomplish his friend’s freedom and his sister’s happiness. His life was worthless to anyone else. It would have been better if she had been a penniless hag. As it was, he feared he would destroy the life of this golden child in the process of saving another’s.

  Aubree’s lips tightened. “But I have agreed to nothing, milord. There may be other ways of obtaining the aid you seek for your sister, but there is no other help for me. My father cannot force this marriage if I refuse.”

  Austin gazed at her sadly, knowing the time had come to give her the final blow. “We both have the right to refuse, halfling, but the cost is so high you will have difficulty meeting it.” He watched as those wide green eyes turned questioningly on him, and he broke the news gently. “You have told me of your home in Hampshire, part of your mother’s estate, I believe. Your Aunt Clara resides there when she is not with you?”

  Aubree nodded. “It is her childhood home. Aunt Clara returned there to raise my mother after my uncle died. She stayed on to look after me. It is a beautiful place, though less grand than my father’s home.”

  Still not daring to touch her, Austin returned to his seat and sought for words to make this final blow a little easier. “As I understand it, the Hampshire estate came to your mother through your grandfather, not your grandmother, so it is not part of the inheritance that comes to you on your birthday.”

  She stared at him with awful understanding. “No one has ever explained to me what I will inherit. I never considered it of great importance.”

  Austin nodded approvingly. Born to wealth, she had no grasping instinct as did his first wife. “The Hampshire estate became your father’s upon his marriage to your mother. That is the way the law reads. He can do with it as he will.”

  He could see the pain of realization strike her.

  “He cannot do this,” she said in horror. “He would not.” She raised her eyes hopefully to him, waiting for him to deny what he could not.

  Austin could not resist any longer. He took Aubree’s hands between his. “He claims he will sell the Hampshire estate and refuse you entrance to any of his other homes. He has the power to make it very difficult for Emery or your uncle if they tried to take you in. They might disobey him, but the consequences of such a family feud would not be pretty.”

  “He would not sell Aunt Clara’s home. I cannot believe that. After all she has done.” Aubree’s voice went flat, displaying none of the emotion the words described. Her gaze wandered into space and she seemed unaware that he continued to hold her hands.

  Austin watched her with concern, fearful the tragedies of this day had been too much for the child. The color had fled her cheeks and, with it, the indomitable spirit he had thought her to possess. For the first time, he realized how delicate she was. The bounding zest for life that seemed so much a part of her served to disguise the frailness of her slender figure. He remembered how weightlessly she had drifted in his arms when they danced and understood why. She seemed created of fragile porcelain, too delicate for one such as he to touch. The slender fingers captured within his palms could easily be crushed, there seemed so little strength in them. He stroked them gently, waiting for her reply.

  Of a sudden, the light returned to her eyes, and Aubree turned lanterns of maliciousness toward him. Unsmiling, she asked, “What do you know of annulments?”

  It was Austin’s turn to feel uneasy. “I am not a solicitor. I cannot tell you details. But I believe there must be extenuating circumstances involved.”

  Aubree skimmed over his evasiveness. “If we do not live together as man and wife, would that not be grounds for annulment?”

  “Possibly so, Aubree, but your father. . .”

  “Will do everything in his power to see the marriage consummated. But he would certainly not stoop to the practice of having us watched, like royalty.” She spoke daringly of topics of which she should have no knowledge.

  Austin dropped his hands and stood up, pacing nervously as he followed her thoughts. He had contemplated allowing her to remain in Hampshire while he returned to his home and made it ready for her, but not once had it occurred to him to sacrifice his marital rights. He wanted children, but even more, he now realized, he wanted Aubree. That painful realization shattered his thought processes, leaving him open to suggestion.

  “I would not put that past him,” Austin stated roughly, angered at this new position he found himself in. “But even so, there are other means of knowing. Your father is no fool. If this has occurred to you, it will occur to him, also.”

  “But he thinks I am a silly miss with no knowledge of these matters. And he must know you would never suggest such an alternative. He must be reasonably confident of success or he would never have gone this far. If we can make him believe what he wants to believe. . .”

  Austin interrupted with abruptness. “I see now what Emery meant when he warned me not to stand between the two of you. You have a mind just like his, Aubree, and I am not at all certain that I like it.”

  “All the more reason you should agree with me,” she replied tartly. “We scarcely know each other. The difference in our ages alone is enough to foresee disaster. I daresay you prefer more sophisticated, experienced women than a country girl who prefers animals for companions. I will not interfere with your affairs, if you will but agree to an annulment when I turn eighteen. By then, surely your brother-in-law will be returned to you, and if my father threatens to sell Aunt Clara’s home again, I will have the means to buy it. It is perfect and will serve him right.”

  Austin glared at her smug expression. “Have you given any thought to your reputation if you go through with this? The scent of scandal will scare off all but the fortune-hunters. You will never live it down. The gossip might give you entrance to society again, but only as a curiosity. You will be eighteen years old with no future ahead of you. Aubree, think what you are saying!”

  Jade eyes turned mutinous. “I am saying I will live my life as I choose and not as my father wishes or society dictates. If you are worried about losing the dowry, I will repay it myself. You will gain all he has promised and be relieved of the nuisance of my presence within half a year. Surely that is a better bargain than my father offers?”

&
nbsp; This interview was not going at all well. Heath felt he had handled the duke better than this treacherous little she-devil. If it were not for his background, he would take her over his knee and beat some sense into her. Frail, indeed! She had taught him one lesson this day: strength of character outweighed any physical weakness.

  “I do not need your charity, thank you,” he informed her icily. “In six months, I can more than double your dowry, with any luck at all. I am only thankful that I will not have a lifetime to spend pulling you out of sordid scrapes. I am grateful for your consideration, milady.” He bowed sarcastically. “May I return to his grace and say you have accepted my offer?”

  Aubree replied coldly, “As long as I can trust your word as a gentleman to keep our agreement.”

  A sardonic smile lifted his lips as his gaze raked over her proud figure. “As a gentleman, my dear, I give you my word.”

  Why did he feel, as he strode out, that she had got the better of this bargain?

  Chapter 7

  Before the day was out, the marriage arrangement had been hammered out to the satisfaction of the men. With Castle Ashbrook close at hand, they prepared to remove there to await the final details before the marriage could take place. The wedding might not be carried out by sunset of this day as threatened, but certainly within the week.

  Messengers flew north and south, carrying directions for special licenses, newspaper notices, solicitors, relatives, and of course, a suitable churchman to carry out the formalities. Before Emery departed, he stopped to see if Aubree had any missives to be sent.

  He found her sitting in the window of the upstairs room where she had spent the night. Her golden hair fell over her rumpled shirt as she pensively stared at the shrubbery below.

  “Aubree?” When she did not look up, Emery stepped into the room. “Is there anything I should tell your Aunt Clara? Some gowns you want sent? Men have no notion of how to plan a wedding, and I fear they will forget something of importance to you.”

  When she looked up, he could see the glitter of tears in her eyes, and he nearly fell backward in astonishment. Aubree had been a hellion since she was old enough to toddle, but always a happy one.

  She had taken her share of scrapes and bruises and suffered the blame for her escapades without batting an eyelash. Occasionally, he had caught her crying over a dead bird or some such, but never for herself. Guilt colored his reaction.

  “I don’t suppose anyone considered love or affection, did they?” she asked wryly. “Do you think they can be bought in time for the wedding?”

  “Aubree. . .” Emery offered his hand helplessly. “If I could help in any way. . . You are welcome to stay with Peggy and me, you know you are. I would not see you unhappy. But I thought you and Heath. . . I mean, you seemed to like each other.”

  She waved away his hand. “He likes me well enough as a plaything to keep him amused. I suppose we shall suit. Do not worry over me. Just tell Aunt Clara to send whatever she thinks necessary. I trust I will find a few things at Ashbrook so I will not have to wear this”—she made a face at her ruined riding habit—”much longer. Give Peggy my love and tell her I wish she could be here. She would make a lovely matron of honor.”

  Emery vowed never to raise a word of complaint against his cousin again. She might have more audacity than a cage of monkeys, but she had equal amounts of courage. “I told Heath he needed a good wife like mine. He did me one better, I think. He’s a good man, Aubree. Don’t wear him down.”

  “It’s a little late for that advice.” She sent him off with a sad smile.

  Below, he discovered Heath lying in wait for him. Tired lines etched the earl’s face and Emery suspected his friend’s game leg was paining him, but he made no mention of this as he handed Emery several sealed messages.

  “I am not allowed to venture beyond the duke’s boundaries,” he explained with a twist of his lips. “If you would carry these to my groom, he will see them delivered.”

  “Of course, but I thought all the messages went out with my uncle’s men.” Emery hefted the lengthy missives before slipping them into his coat pocket.

  “There were a few things I preferred to see to myself. The duke has only one thing on his mind at the moment, and his daughter’s desires aren’t among them. You won’t mind a few extra passengers coming back?”

  Emery grinned, following the drift of this conversation. “I can round up enough carriages to transport half London if you’d like.”

  “I had Hampshire more in mind. You would know whom to call upon. . .”

  A gleam devilishly similar to Aubree’s danced in Emery’s eyes. “I’ll see it done. It may not be a proper courtship, but it will be one hell of a wedding.”

  They parted on an amicable basis, but Austin’s good humor did not carry over to their departure from the lodge for the castle. The hired hack that had carried Aubree here was brought out and surrounded by a half-dozen of the duke’s men. Austin scowled at this entourage and turned in time to catch the rebellious expression on his fiancée’s face as she, too, studied the carriage.

  Her father spoke to a gamekeeper, then strode across the lawn to join them. The sun had lowered well into the west and shadows prevented reading his expression, but Austin felt Aubree’s jerk of indignation. Before he could say anything, she was off and down the outside stairs, aiming for a horse that had been left riderless.

  “Aubree,” the duke shouted, gesturing for one of his men to interfere with her path.

  “Leave her be.” Angrily, Austin jerked down the steps and appropriated the reins of his own mount, swinging up effortlessly. Aubree had managed to seat herself and now urged her horse into a canter.

  “You’ll be chasing after her half the night again,” his grace sputtered.

  “You don’t know your daughter very well,” Austin replied, following the path of Aubree’s escaping horse with his eyes. She rode exceedingly well, even in the awkward position forced upon her by a man’s saddle.

  “I think I’m in a position to know her better than you, sir,” the duke retorted.

  Austin glanced at his irate father-in-law-to-be. “Then you should know she keeps her word. She may not like it, but she has promised to marry me. She will be there waiting for us.”

  “She’ll keep her word, no doubt,” the duke fumed, “but the manner in which she keeps it is what worries me. You promise to get her to that altar and I’ll trust in that.”

  “I promise.” He sent a worried look in the direction Aubree had disappeared. He, too, had doubts about the manner in which she would keep her word.

  By the time he reached her father’s castle, Aubree had already retired to her chambers, leaving word for her meal to be sent up to her.

  In the ancient grandeur of Castle Ashbrook, the earl could better glimpse the royal upbringing that had been Aubree’s. The hall that formed the main entrance was regally adorned with heavy tapestries woven by Beresford women of long ago. Vaunted arches and stained-glass windows dated to a time when soldiers wore the suits of armor now guarding stately corners.

  Servants scuttled to and fro, silently anticipating the duke’s every need as they brought messages from London, lit fires, and poured wine. Excusing himself, feeling exceedingly grubby after spending two days and a night in the same clothes, Heathmont followed a housekeeper to an elegantly furnished upper-story chamber.

  Studying the paneled walls and velvet draperies, Heath felt a moment’s foreboding. Aubree might call herself a simple country girl, but she had never known an instant’s discomfort in her life. She was accustomed to luxury well beyond his means. Her father had assumed he would use her dowry and inheritance to simulate this wealth in her new home, but he had assumed wrongly. That money belonged to Aubree, not Atwood Abbey. Austin intended to invest it so it might return sufficient income to ease his financial crisis while leaving the sum intact to return to Aubree six months hence. That would not pay for elegance.

  Dissatisfied with the path of his though
ts, he stripped off his soiled shirt and began to wash. Half a year, she had said. With any luck, that would take him into October. He would do well to pin down the exact date of her birthday.

  The following day, Aubree went out of her way to avoid everyone. The hustle and bustle below told of the preparations being made in her behalf, but she had no interest in them. The activity in the stable yard was no less with messengers racing about, the arrival of carts of food, and packages arriving from hither and yon. Her father had evidently stirred up quite a hornet’s nest by his haste for this wedding.

  Staring out her window, she watched Heathmont’s well-set figure ride out. His coat had evidently been cleaned and pressed since she had last seen him, and he must have located someone’s shaving gear, but that was not what impressed her. He seemed to suppress as much energy as his restive stallion as he maintained a decorous canter for the sake of the groom accompanying him. Aubree envied him his composure. She would have outdistanced the groom before the first bend in the road.

  Her self-imposed isolation ended that evening when the duke sought her in her chambers. She recognized his presence with an absentminded nod, then returned her blank gaze to the window.

  “I know you think I am being cruel and unreasonable in forcing this marriage upon you, but it is your happiness I have in mind, Aubree. Your Aunt Clara and I have grown too old to chaperone you as you need to be, and you are much too young to look after yourself. This incident could have been much more tragic. I would prevent your coming to any harm.”

  Aubree turned to examine her father for some sign of warmth and affection, to no avail. He had learned to hide too well any emotion he might feel. He could be speaking with hatred as easily as love. She hung her head and studied her slippered toe.

  When she made no reply, the duke tried again. “From all reports, your Earl of Heathmont is a man of strong character and courage. Wellington has only praise for his actions in the years he spent over there.”

 

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