But he heard it, yes, he did. Now he looked at her, manner sly and insinuating. “He knew I was here. Are you saying he didn’t tell you?”
Henry leapt into the sudden tense silence. “Derrick, behave yourself or I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Will you indeed?” His tone was insolent.
Amanda needed that brief respite to gather her wits. She must remember that Derrick’s main objective was to play the spoiler. But every fear she had experienced since her marriage came rushing back in a flood of insecurity.
“I still think your timing is suspect,” she said at last.
“And I think you are naive.” The spite in his voice was hard to miss.
“Beg pardon?”
“Where has my dear cousin gone?”
That feeling in her chest continued to grow. With as much self-assurance as she could muster, she said, “To London to meet with Mr. Smythe. James is in the final stages of getting his father’s affairs in order.” Only after she answered his question did she wonder why she felt she should.
“If you say so.”
“Derrick, get up and get out! Immediately!” Aunt Henry’s voice was high-pitched and stern, her stance surprisingly aggressive for one who was usually good-natured and self-effacing.
“I don’t think so, Mother,” he said on a sneer.
“Then I shall have you thrown out.” She stomped toward the door. “This has gone on quite long enough.”
Amanda remained where she stood, unmoving and silent, until she heard Henry’s footsteps fade down the hall—in search of someone brawny, she assumed. “I would like you to tell me what you are implying, Derrick. And I suggest you be quick about it as it seems you are about to be tossed out into the yard on your backside.”
Derrick came abruptly to his feet. His face had turned pink, his expression ugly. “I wouldn’t be so certain of myself if I were you.”
“Do you have something you wish to say, or are you merely trying to threaten me?”
“Just this, Cousin—you are much too trusting. It’s always business when a man wants to explain a journey.”
Amanda momentarily stopped breathing as she felt the blood drain from her face. He was lying—she knew he was. His jealousy of James was so patently obvious, to give him any credence was foolish. But recent history did not make her feel optimistic. James had been untruthful with her about the reason for their marriage, the very foundation of their relationship. Would he lie about where he was going—and why?
“You have no proof, just accusations.”
“Seems to me, you don’t need my proof. His actions speak for themselves.”
“Derrick, once more I ask you to remove yourself voluntarily.” Aunt Henry had returned, and she was spitting mad, outrage radiating off her like a little bantam cock. Behind her stood two footman, stoically, but clearly resolved to do what must be done. She stepped aside and the first footman advanced into the room, taking Derrick by the upper arm.
Derrick yanked free of the servant. “All right, you’ve made your point.” He straightened his cuffs as he spoke. “Merely trying to keep my dear Cousin James honest. Surely, his wife deserves that.”
Amanda was unconvinced. If ever there was an individual who couldn’t be bothered with the welfare of another, Derrick was that man. He pushed passed the first footman then passed the second on his way to the front entrance. His mother followed in his wake, Amanda watching from the doorway of the sitting room.
“Your motives are abundantly clear, Derrick,” Henry said. “I’ve never thought to be ashamed of you, but today you’ve reached a new low.”
He bowed, a thoroughly sarcastic gesture. “Why, thank you, madam.”
“I mean it. Collect your belongings and leave Lonsdale.”
“I think I’ll wait for the dowager to throw me out.”
The dowager?
“I will no longer protect you, Derrick. As soon as James returns I will be reporting this transgression to him.”
The only response she received was a sullen salute with two fingers.
One footman behind him, the other opening the front door, Derrick exited the house. Henrietta stood in the doorway for several moments without speaking, watching him as he crossed the lawn to the dower house. The old lady’s shoulders drooped as she turned back inside, seeming to have lost the starch that had fueled her indignation. She tried to meet Amanda’s gaze but clearly had some difficulty doing so.
For her part, Amanda was too stunned to do more than stand at the entrance to the sitting room with her mouth open. In an instant her day had gone from languid boredom to a feeling of such impending disaster, all she wanted was to run and hide from whatever was to come. But the fear would follow her, she knew, a fear she thought she had defeated.
“I suppose you’d like an explanation,” Henry said, still staring mostly at the floor.
Finding her voice with some effort, Amanda said, “That would be welcome, yes.”
“It’s not what it seems—”
Amanda lifted her hand, palm out. “Aunt Henry, please, do me the courtesy of not insulting my intelligence. Tell me the truth without the varnish. I believe I deserve that much.”
Henry nodded, expelling a heavy breath, and waved Amanda back into the sitting room. “Let’s have a seat.”
There was a minute of uncomfortable quiet as they situated themselves on opposing ends of the sofa. Aunt Henry then turned to face her, and this time her gaze was direct but sorrowful.
“I’m so sorry, Amanda. I know I should have told you about Derrick, that he was on the estate.”
“James should have told me about Derrick, Aunt Henry.” Amanda’s voice was dry and flat. “Did you ask him not to tell me?”
“I-I don’t remember who decided to keep it quiet. Our motives were pure, I believe. We didn’t want to upset you. Especially after the wedding party…”
Amanda thought only a moment before deciding to reveal information James had asked her to keep to herself, although she suspected it was hardly a secret. “Were you aware that James and I had a falling out and were basically estranged when we arrived here after the wedding?”
“Yes.”
“And you know why?”
Henry winced. “Derrick, of course.”
“But James had hoped everyone would believe we had resolved our differences before our arrival.”
“It wasn’t a secret, dear, that everything wasn’t as it should be. We all knew.”
“I would like to clarify one thing. I wasn’t angry with James because he needed money despite what everyone might think.”
“No?”
“It was the lack of honesty that was truly hurtful. He and my father deciding my future, and assuming I was not adult enough to be part of that decision. Or worse, that they couldn’t trust me to make the decision they wanted me to make. Money was simply the crux of the arrangement. We worked out our difficulties, and James promised there would be no more lies between us. So you can understand why I would find this ‘lie by omission’ regarding Derrick on the estate difficult to accept.”
Henry’s shoulders sagged again. “Yes.”
“Why is James’s mother sheltering Derrick?”
The old woman’s lips crimped. “Who knows why Muriel does anything? I can tell you it’s not for love of my son. More like spiting her own son. She’s an unhappy person who only finds joy when she’s made someone else unhappy.”
“Well, that explains why you were so angry with her when she asked about Derrick. But why is she so hateful to James? He is her son after all.”
“Before James left England, he and his mother had a terrible quarrel. I honestly think that is one of the reasons he felt pushed to leave. Her drinking had become unmanageable, and he was worried about his sister and father. Suffice it to say, things were said that will never be forgotten—or for Muriel, forgiven. My sister-in-law will go to her grave exacting revenge on anyone who has displeased her.”
Desp
ite the uncertainty she was once again feeling with regard to her husband, Amanda was proud of James for standing up to his mother. Grown children often felt impotent when dealing with a wayward parent.
“All right, but then what is Derrick’s grudge against James?”
Henry’s face crumpled. “I wish I knew.” There were tears in her voice. “My son is damaged in some way like Huey. But his damage is where it can’t be seen, only felt. And Huey is such a sweet man where Derrick is jealous and mean-spirited. James had everything Derrick thought he wanted. My son lived well here but on his uncle’s charity, which he resented. James was the favored son, handsome, charming and, despite his lack of funds, a favorite with the ladies—for all the obvious reasons.”
Amanda smiled despite herself. “Of course.”
“To my great sorrow, I believe my husband left his stamp on Derrick.”
“Was your husband’s character not obvious before you married him?”
“I know what you’re asking. Why did I marry him? What you should be asking is why did he marry me?”
“Aunt Henry—”
“No, no, it is what it is. I was plain and blinded by infatuation. Albert was neither of those things. The painful truth is, I had a dowry.” In answer to the unasked question, she said, “Our Uncle Simon—you met him at the wedding reception. He took pity on me and provided the funds, bless him. Without that dowry I would never have married. In retrospect, perhaps it would have been for the best.”
How sad to feel one’s life has been a mistake. Amanda reached across the distance that separated them and patted the old woman’s hand. She could not, simply could not be angry with her. However, she had one more question.
“Derrick implied that James had another reason for going to London.”
Henry grabbed the hand patting hers and scooted her rump toward Amanda on the sofa. Her gaze was now unwavering and fierce. “James is an honorable man, Amanda. He’s not perfect, but you do him an injustice if you doubt his word. I did not marry well and time told me that. You’ve married very well, and time will confirm that also. Please don’t give up on him before you have had the opportunity to see that for yourself.”
Amanda leaned forward and hugged her. She could make no promises because she and James needed to talk, and she said as much. “…But I promise to keep in mind what you’ve said. James is fortunate to have a champion in you. And just so you know,” she swallowed over a painful lump in her throat, “I love him very much.”
She then excused herself because, of a sudden, she found the thought of more conversation unbearable.
At the foot of the staircase, her feet feeling as heavy as her heart, she climbed the steps, only to stop abruptly halfway up. Uncle Huey was now sitting on the fourth step down, elbows on knees, chin in hands, clearly miserable. Tears streaked his cheeks as he watched her approach. She continued her ascent, more quickly now, and sat next to the little man.
“Oh, Uncle Huey…” She put her arm around his shoulders. “I’m so sorry you had to witness this unpleasantness.”
“I don’t want you to leave, Amanda.” His voice shook.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“But you and James—”
“Love each other. We’ll work out our differences. Give us time.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
Even as she promised Huey, Amanda promised herself. She refused to allow Derrick to destroy what James and she had fought so hard to build. She just wished James was home so she could see those blue eyes, read what was in his heart. She hated that doubt had crept into her thinking at the very moment she was finally feeling secure.
Damn Derrick and his odious mouth. Damn him!
***
CHAPTER 16
James descended from the hackney onto the walk in front of Archie Campbell’s townhouse. It had been several months since he’d made his first appearance at his father-in-law’s home. It seemed as if it was forever ago, so much had changed in his life. He was now able to take care of his family, and in the process he had fallen in love with a remarkable woman. As to his current mission, he had completed his father’s business and made final arrangements for Derrick to live in reasonable comfort in the city. He was happy, a springiness in his stride as he navigated the walk that bespoke a man who was on top of the world.
He took the step up to the front entrance and rang the bell. The door was opened almost immediately. He recognized the servant who in turn recognized him.
“Winston, a pleasure to see you, my good man. Is your master at home?”
The butler ushered James inside. “And it’s good to see you, my lord.” He took James’s hat and cane. He paused a moment, his expression somber. “Mr. Campbell has not been well. We are…concerned.”
James’s thoughts went immediately to Amanda. “What’s ailing him?”
“A lung disease, my lord. It would appear his penchant for cigars has finally taken its toll. The physician feels he may not have much time left.”
“I don’t understand. He seemed perfectly all right when my wife and I left for Lonsdale.”
“Perhaps what he seemed was not accurate, my lord. We now suspect he was hiding his ill health until after the wedding. He declined rather quickly once you and Lady Lonsdale departed.”
“Is he too unwell to receive guests?”
“Mr. Campbell will have to make that decision, my lord.”
“He’s conscious?”
“Yes, my lord, he was the last time I looked in on him. He sleeps quite often—laudanum for the pain you know—but he’s fairly clear-headed when he is awake. We have a nurse on constant watch.”
“Please ask him then if he can tolerate a short visit.”
Winston disappeared up the stairs as James began pacing the foyer. His primary concern was for his wife, who he knew would be devastated by the news of her father’s illness. Archie and she had not parted on cordial terms, and he assumed Amanda would now regret her anger, even if the old man deserved it.
Winston was not gone long. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he said, “Mr. Campbell seems quite eager to speak with you, my lord.”
James filed in behind the butler, mounting the stairs at the sedate pace set by the servant. When they reached Campbell’s room James stopped. “Winston, I’d like you to send a message to Lady Lonsdale. Tell her I’ll be returning home tomorrow morning to bring her back to London to see her father.”
“Actually, we sent a message two days ago, my lord. We felt Mr. Campbell’s health had become enough of a concern that we needed to alert his daughter as next of kin. Had we known of your visit, we would have waited for your instructions. I do apologize.”
Again, James’s first thought was of Amanda. If she had not yet received the news, she would be receiving it soon. “No, no, quite all right. You did what you thought needed to be done. We had to be notified.”
As James entered Archie’s room, he was assailed by the smell of sickness. He knew that smell, and it did not bode well for Archie Campbell’s future. Across an extremely large chamber, rested an extremely large four-poster bed with the draperies pulled back, revealing its occupant propped on several pillows. Next to the bed in a straight-backed chair sat a woman in long pinafore apron and mob cap—the nurse, James assumed—hands folded primly in her lap. She watched as James approached the bed.
He addressed the woman. “I’m Mr. Campbell’s son-in-law Lord Lonsdale. Is he able to take part in a private conversation for a few minutes?”
The nurse gave one brisk nod. She stood and leaned over her patient. “Mr. Campbell, I’m giving you some private time with your son-in-law. Please have his lordship come for me if you should have any difficulties.” She turned back to James. “Nurse Bitters,” she introduced herself succinctly then moved toward the door.
Huh, aptly named, James thought. No wasted words there.
With the exit of the stern nurse, the atmosphere in the room lightened somewhat.
>
Archie pointed to the chair the nurse had just vacated. “She’s good,” he pulled a shallow breath and wheezed, “but depressing. Makes me feel as if I’m on my deathbed.” He laughed at his attempt at humor which led to a coughing fit. His lungs sounded as if they were filled with water.
James in the act of sitting came immediately to his feet and leaned over the patient. “Are you all right, sir? Should I call the nurse back?”
Archie clamped a hand, surprisingly strong, around James’s forearm. “Call back that persimmon and I promise to expire before she gets here.” He coughed again, once, but the episode appeared to have passed.
James sat down, studying the old man as he did so. Amanda’s father looked terrible, pale and drawn, thinner, and he was on his deathbed unless a miracle intervened. He suspected that wasn’t going to happen. “I understand you’ve been ill since the wedding. Why have you waited to let us know?”
“More important that you and that gel of mine…get off to a good start. I’m an old man. My time has come…and gone.” His speech was punctuated by many breaths as he fought for air.
“I don’t think Amanda is going to see it that way.”
“She’s a good girl,” Archie said softly. Deep breath. “I’m sorry I disappointed her.”
James had a sudden thought. “You’ve known you were sick for a long time, haven’t you?”
Archie shrugged, noncommittal.
“Which challenges your assertion that you want to be grandfather to a future earl.”
Now the old man’s expression turned sly, which for a moment belied the seriousness of his illness. “I’m content with knowing…the outcome, even if I can’t be there. Everything I have will eventually go to your children. So…make certain you have some.”
James laughed. “You manipulative old bastard. I knew the day I met you that you didn’t let anything stand in the way if you wanted something.” He sobered. “But why me? I had nothing to offer aside from my title. A man in financial ruin is not necessarily the best choice. His motives would strike to the heart of any genuine commitment. Surely you wanted more than that for your only child.”
In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4) Page 18