Lady Hartley's Inheritance

by Wendy Soliman

  It was penned in a lady’s hand and begged Luc’s immediate assistance as the worst had happened and his correspondent, Beatrice Higgins, was afraid for herself. The letter was respectful and stopped short of requesting Luc’s actual physical presence. Clarissa wondered, just for a moment, who this Beatrice could be, and what problems she could possibly have that caused Luc so much anger and had the power to make him to drop everything and run to her aid.

  Realising that Luc must have very strong feelings for the lady caused a physical pain to rip through her like a sabre. Until that moment she’d not realised just how much he meant to her, but perversely this confirmation of his duplicity somehow strengthening her resolve. She would not cry over him; she absolutely would not. She could see him clearly now for what he was and would not be taken in by his quite disgustingly persuasive charm ever again.

  She excused herself from dining with Aunt Marcia, using her illness as a legitimate excuse, and merely picked at the food which was sent to her room. As she did so her emotions underwent a marked change. Gone was the brief sentimentality she’d permitted herself to entertain in respect of Luc. It was replaced with a slow, burning anger that she wrapped around herself like a protective cloak. Never again, she vowed, would she yearn for something that could never be.

  She fed her anger by dwelling upon Luc’s motives. It was all so obvious now. Of course he wouldn’t change! He would continue to live his life just as he always had, and she’d played straight into his hands with her dislike of the capital and everything to do with good society. Obviously, that was just what he was looking for in a wife. He required someone from the right background in order to bear his children. But if he could find someone who would be content to rusticate in the country, not interfere or ask awkward questions about the way he lived his life, so much the better. He would marry her, ensure she was carrying his child and abandon her in Northumberland whilst he continued to live his life his way. What a widgeon she’d been to almost fall for it. Of course he would keep his word not to interfere with her operation in Northumberland. How could he countermand her orders when he was obviously intending to be elsewhere, indulging his extraordinary passions with one mistress or another?

  The next morning, composed and determined, Clarissa informed an astonished Agnes to commence preparations since they would return to Northumberland the following day. Agnes tried to dissuade her mistress, but Clarissa remained resolute. Aunt Marcia was horrified by her decision. Clarissa was not yet well enough to undertake such an arduous journey. Surely she could wait another week or two? What was the rush? Clarissa kissed her, thanked her again and again for her kindness, but would not be dissuaded from her purpose.

  The following morning she entered her carriage to commence her journey. Her heart, what was left of it, was a leaden weight in her chest. But her mind was made up and there would be no turning back.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Luc concluded his business on behalf of Beatrice Higgins far more swiftly than he’d anticipated. He sat in the drawing room at Deverill Hall, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. He vowed to remain just one more day in Newbury. He would attend to a few pressing matters his Steward had brought to his attention and then return to London. And Clarissa.

  At the end of the long day with his Steward, a note from his mother arrived. Along with another. He read his mother’s missive first and frowned in bewilderment. What in the name of Hades had caused Clarissa to run back to Northumberland and why had his mother not attempted to prevent her? She wasn’t fit enough to undertake such an arduous journey, especially not in that old rattletrap of hers. And what of the unsettled business between them? Luc was at a loss to understand her behaviour.

  Placing his concerns on one side, he turned his attention to his second letter, recognising Felix’s hand. It appeared that Lord Eversham had been particularly keen to speak with Clarissa at a ball two nights previously and upon being informed of her return to Northumberland had dropped everything, with the season still in full swing, and headed for his own estate in that county. Luc was now seriously concerned. He had noticed before that of all her suitors, Clarissa only appeared to have time for Eversham. Surely she hadn’t reached an agreement with him. Had she done so, Luc was certain that she would have claimed a prior commitment when he proposed to her. She was straightforward in her dealings with him and not given to dissembling.

  A surge of fierce jealousy swept through him, causing him acute physical pain. Just the thought of that gold-digger getting anywhere near his intended was enough to turn his blood cold. But it wasn’t in Luc’s nature to sit inactively by and wallow in self-pity. There was only one place now that he wished to be and, calling to the long-suffering Simms, told him to pack again and prepare their fastest travelling chaise. They were bound for Northumberland at first light.

  They reached their destination in record time, thanks to Luc’s grim determination and to the quality of his conveyance. He checked into the best Inn in Morpeth and headed straight for Greenlawns. Agnes greeted him, showing obvious relief at his arrival, and informed him that Clarissa and her Steward were on the far north east border of the estate. A dry stone wall had collapsed, and some of her best sheep had barged through the gap, trapping themselves on a dangerous precipice. Luc had no difficulty imagining Clarissa, still recovering from both her injuries and a tediously long journey, at the centre of this dangerous rescue mission, and sighed in exasperation. Would she never learn?

  “Dear God!” he said.

  “I did try to prevent her, but she’s not been herself since leaving London, my lord, and there’s no reasoning with her.”

  Luc made no reply. He was already remounting his horse and heading in the direction Agnes indicated, his head full of just what he intended to do to his headstrong, rebellious and passionately ideological future wife when he finally got his hands on her.

  He found the broken wall easily enough and heard a familiar voice echoing from the other side of it. Three men were standing together, peering in the direction of that voice. Seeing Luc approaching, a disparate collection of dogs looked up and trotted across to investigate. Clarissa’s menagerie presumably. But Luc hardly saw them, or the magnificent falcon perched on a low branch just above his head. His only concern was for Clarissa.

  The men saw him and looked up. One of them, better dressed than the others and obviously the Steward, stepped forward. Luc introduced himself and asked what was going on.

  “Broken wall,” Masters said, stating the obvious. “Blossom there,” he continued, indicating a large and elderly looking sheep balanced precariously on the precipice, “obviously went through to see what was what. Curious creatures are sheep and some of the others followed. We got the rest of them back safely but Blossom’s stuck.”

  “And you permitted Lady Hartley to go after her alone?”

  “She wouldn’t have it any other way. We tried to dissuade her, but she was deaf to reason. Right fond of Blossom is Lady Hartley, and she reckons she can persuade her from the edge by talking to her.”

  Luc rolled his eyes. “I dare say she does.”

  He walked across to the wall and called to Clarissa. She looked up at the sound of his voice, an astonished expression on her face. Luc was convinced that just for a moment he could detect a fleeting look of exquisite pleasure as well, but she quickly organised her features into an annoyingly neutral expression, and he was no longer able to gauge her true feelings.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked accusingly.

  “I might ask the same thing of you?”

  “Rescuing Blossom, of course.”

  “Have you any idea how dangerous it is on that precipice?” Loose rocks, dislodged by Clarissa, tumbled down the couloir into the valley one hundred feet below, causing Luc’s heart to miss a beat. Only the knowledge that the ground would surely give way under his weight if he went across to bodily remove her from danger prevented him from actually doing so.

  “That’s why I ca
me out here myself,” she said. “I’m lighter than any of the men.”

  “Come back here to safety at once,” he instructed, silently cursing her wilfulness.

  With a resentful toss of her head, Clarissa complied. Ignoring his outstretched hand, she stepped deftly over the broken wall and took up a position at his side.

  “And what are we supposed to do about poor Blossom now?” she asked belligerently, hands on hips, the light in her luminous eyes bellicose.

  “Just leave it to us.”

  “Humph, such hubris!” She folded her arms and glowered at him. Luc’s only response was a knowing grin. He was where he most wanted to be, her rebellious attitude didn’t concern him in the least, and he would now earn her gratitude by rescuing her damned sheep for her.

  Luc conferred with Masters, who confirmed that Blossom was placid, unlikely to panic. Climbing the broken wall, rope in hand, he stood on the edge of the solid ground and, on the second attempt, managed to lasso Blossom. Two men came up behind him and together they hauled the sheep back to safety. Clarissa was upon her as soon as she’d been lifted back across the wall, cuddling her and generally making a fuss of the totally unperturbed animal. Luc stood where he was, content now to bide his time and drink in the sight of Clarissa’s shapely legs encased in sturdy breeches.

  Eventually satisfied that Blossom had suffered no injuries, Clarissa rejoined Luc.

  “Thank you,” she said succinctly.

  “You’re welcome,” he said with equal verbal economy, waiting for her to meet his eye.

  “What are you doing here, Luc?” she eventually asked of him.

  “I could ask the same question of you.”

  “I live here, remember?”

  “Hu-hum, excuse me, milady, but I think you should see this.” Luc and Clarissa followed Masters to a point further along the wall. “I’ve been having a bit of a look round. Couldn’t understand why that wall should suddenly collapse. It was in good repair when I last checked it a week or two ago. This is a quiet part of the estate. No one would come out here without a reason but look at this.” Masters pointed to an area that had been trampled by hooves and was covered with fresh droppings. “None of us have been out here for over a week,” he said, “and I’ve looked at that section of wall too. It didn’t fall by accident.”

  “Sabotage!” Clarissa cried. “But why?”

  “I couldn’t rightly say, milady.”

  “When I think what could have happened to Blossom and the others. Anyone who knows anything about sheep would appreciate that their innate sense of curiosity would make them want to see what was through that gap.”

  “And so someone wishes you harm, Clarissa,” Luc said. “Any idea whom?”

  “None whatsoever.” She hesitated. “Not unless it’s someone working for Salik.”

  “Unlikely. Why would he want to risk damaging what he considers to be his own land? But I agree with Masters, this damage is deliberate. I also think that whoever did it will wish to know how successful he was.”

  “They will come back, you mean?” The glint of battle had returned to Clarissa’s eye.

  “Most assuredly. With your permission?” He raised a brow at Clarissa, and she nodded her consent. “Masters, post two men here out of sight and report back to the house as soon as anyone is seen. You say this part of the estate is remote and not used by passersby, so anyone coming here can only have one purpose.”

  “Exactly so, my lord.”

  “Come, Clarissa, you should be resting.”

  Ignoring her scowl at his proprietary behaviour, he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her bodily onto her horse.

  “How do you feel?” he asked her as they rode, side by side, back to Greenlawns. Her face was pale and drawn; there were dark circles under her eyes, and her head wound was still covered by a dressing, from the sides of which multi-coloured bruising spiralled outwards in an ugly mosaic.

  “Very well thank you,” she said stiffly.

  She was clearly upset with him for some reason, and so Luc wisely refrained from making any further comment. They completed their ride in a strained silence. Once inside the house, Luc took control once again, much to Clarissa’s obvious chagrin. He told Agnes they didn’t wish to be disturbed and closed the drawing room door firmly behind them.

  Clarissa took up a seat beside the fire, her dogs all vying for the position closest to her. She looked steadfastly at them, at an arrangement of flowers on a side table, out of the window. Anywhere, it seemed, except at him. He permitted the silence to lengthen, aware that the atmosphere was intense, charged with anticipation. Clarissa clearly wasn’t comfortable with it and was the first to speak.

  “Why have you come, Luc?”

  “I should have thought that was obvious. We have incomplete business.”

  “I should have supposed that my departure would have put paid to all that nonsense and saved you this long trip north into the bargain.”

  “Would you indeed!” He elevated a brow. “Is that how you normally respond to a proposal of marriage, by running away from it?”

  “When that proposal is intended as a marriage of convenience then yes, I do.”

  “What on earth do you mean?”

  He bent toward her and looked into her face. She was too slow to hide the hurt and anguish that suffused her features and stood to pace the room.

  “Why did you go to Newbury, Luc?” she asked.

  Comprehension dawned then in a blinding flash and Luc could only curse his laggardly brain for not having realised the truth much earlier. She often went to his library in search of reading material and must have seen that letter from Beatrice. Relief followed quickly on the heels of understanding.

  “Beatrice Higgins and I are old friends,” he remarked languidly.

  “I dare say, but what is that to me?”

  “A great deal. I would expect my friends to become my wife’s friends also.”

  “What!” She glowered at him. “Of all the presumptuous, arrogant, opinionated…” Clarissa paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “I think you had better leave my house right away,” she said, turning away from him.

  “What has upset you so, my love?” he asked innocently, unable to prevent himself from teasing her a little more. “Do you not wish to know more of poor Beatrice’s troubles?”

  She looked up at him sharply. “Why do you make sport of me thus?”

  “Because, my darling, it’s very difficult not to when you behave thus. If you wished to know whom Beatrice is, why didn’t you simply ask my mother?”

  “Your mother! Don’t tell me that she condones your liaisons with these women…these women of, of — ”

  “Of the educational class?” offered Luc helpfully.

  Clarissa stared at him, too angry and confused to speak but, somewhere deep within her, she was starting to feel as though she had made some sort of terrible mistake. The delirious feelings of ridiculous hope that accompanied this suspicion brought colour flooding to her face, and tiny tentacles of desire, never far from the surface in her confrontations with Luc, stirred enthusiastically into life.

  Luc placed his hands on her shoulders and gently guided her back to her chair. “Clarissa,” he said, looking straight into her beautiful, wary eyes, “Beatrice was my sisters’ governess.”

  “What?”

  “Indeed yes. When she retired she moved to a small cottage in the village rather than accepting the tied cottage in the grounds which we offered her. She had some money of her own, you see, left to her by her late husband, but about a year ago, a relative of her husband’s returned from overseas and contacted her. He has, rather as Salik has with you, been trying to wheedle money out of her ever since and recently resorted to quite violent methods. I thought I’d resolved the matter before I left Newbury, but it seems he thought he could try intimidating the old lady again, safe in the knowledge that I was in London for the season and assuming that Beatrice didn’t have the authority to report to
me there.” Luc paused, his expression hard and icy. “Well, he’s now discovered just how wrong he was and won’t be troubling Beatrice again.”

  “Oh!” It was all Clarissa could think of to say. Colour flooded her cheeks for a second time as she realised the enormity of her mistake, whilst relief caused every muscle in her body to slacken. She expelled the breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding, not having understood until that moment just how much it mattered to her that Luc should not be the heartless philanderer she’d recently supposed him to be.

  He smiled at her. “Indeed, oh! And so now, do you suppose, we could continue with our much postponed discussion about my proposal of marriage. You wished to know why I had proposed and well — ”

  Once again the conversation was not to be, for there was an urgent tapping at the door. Agnes entered, looking suitably apologetic.

  “Your pardon, but Masters is here on business he insists is of the utmost urgency.”

  “The wall, I suppose. Send him in Agnes,” Clarissa said, pleased for a reprieve from Luc’s intensity and for the opportunity to rearrange her turbulent thoughts.

  “You were correct, my lord,” Masters said without preamble. “Someone did indeed come to inspect the wall and far quicker than I would have expected.” Clarissa hid her irritation at her steward for automatically addressing Luc. Did absolutely everyone naturally defer to his authority?

  “Do you know who they were, Masters?”

  “Indeed, my lord, they were two grooms in Lord Eversham’s livery.”

  Clarissa let out a gasp.

  “Thank you, Masters, I expected as much.”

  “My lord.”

  Masters made a slight bow and left the room.

  Clarissa recovered from this second revelation in five minutes with surprising alacrity. “You suspected Lord Eversham of causing the sabotage?”

  “Indeed. After all he did leave the ton in pursuit of you.”

  “Nonsense, he informed me that he left several days before me, being as bored as I was with the proceedings. He stayed with friends en route, delaying his return and had no idea until he got back to Northumberland that I was also here. When he discovered that I was, he kindly came to call.”