A Heart So Innocent

by Charlene Cross

  “Then what am I to do?” Aidan asked, feeling despondent.

  Lady Falvey pretended to study the possibilities. “Well … if we’re careful… No! I doubt it would work.”

  “What? Please tell me!”

  “Well, in the afternoons, I usually take a short drive in the phaeton. Today I’ll delay my outing until early evening. If we’re careful, I might be able to smuggle you through the gates and off to the nearest coaching inn. You’ll have to curl up under my feet as tight as a cat. My skirts and the lap robe I use for warmth to keep my legs from stiffening up should provide sufficient cover to hide you.”

  “How do you propose I escape my guards?” Aidan asked, not certain it would work.

  “I’ll send several of them on fictitious errands. As for the few that will remain, I’ll create a diversion of sorts. I’m not certain what, but by the time we’re ready to leave, I’ll have thought it through. All you’ll need worry about is meeting me at the stand of trees where the drive curves toward the gates. Wear the dress you arrived in. The less conspicuous you are, the better. If you look like a maid, they might think you’re a maid. Be there at half-past six.”

  “Do you think it will work?” Aidan asked, needing reassurance.

  “We can only give it a try.”

  “And if we fail?”

  Pattina laughed. “I’ve never failed at anything in my life, dear. Why should I do so now?”

  Aidan believed Justin’s aunt. The woman was indeed crafty. Aidan could only imagine Pattina in her younger days as being the most-sought-after catch in all of England. She was nearing seventy, and her beauty might have faded, but her wit and charm had not. And she was still smart as a steel trap. Strange, Aidan mused, that Justin’s aunt had suddenly taken an interest in her plight, especially when the woman had treated her so coolly when she’d first arrived. But she quickly swept the thought from her head and began to wonder, should Aunt Patti’s plan succeed and she did make it back to London, where could she possibly stay? Certainly not with her father. It would be a long time before she forgave him, if ever. Besides, he’d probably pack her up and ship her back to her husband, no questions asked.

  “Do you have relatives in London?” Aunt Patti inquired, and Aidan wondered if the woman had read her mind.

  “Only my father—but I refuse to have any contact with him. He betrayed me, his only child. Your nephew, as well. I shall not forgive him for it, ever.”

  “You can’t very well sleep on the streets, dear girl. If we succeed, where shall you go?”

  Aidan’s teeth played along her lower lip. “There’s always Eugenia.”

  “Ah, the young woman who suggested you elope. Since she was the one who put the idea into your head in the first place, I doubt she could very well turn you away. Should she try, play upon her guilt. It never fails.”

  “We are the best of friends. She would never refuse to help me.”

  “Good, good. Then I won’t have to worry over your safety,” Aunt Patti said, smoothing Aidan’s coppery locks. “Should your possessions arrive, I’ll redirect them back to London to … ?”

  “Lord and Lady Manley’s residence on Portman Square,” Aidan supplied.

  “Portman Square. I shall remember. In a very short time, you’ll be able to change your clothing at will. Now, up with you.” Lady Falvey motioned Aidan to her feet. “Pack your few belongings and have yourself ready. Don’t forget. You’re to meet me at half-past six. Until then, do and act as you always have. We don’t wish to draw suspicion. A sour look will go a long way in throwing the lot off.”

  Aidan rose. “Lady Falvey, I can’t thank you enough—”

  “Don’t thank me yet, child. Our plans haven’t proved out. When they do, then I’ll accept your praises. Now, off with you, and don’t forget to look glum.”

  “I’ll try,” Aidan replied, a bright smile lighting her face, the first in nearly a week. Her freedom was at hand, and she couldn’t help but be happy. As she reached the door, though, a frown settled on her brow. “Will this do?” she asked, turning toward Justin’s aunt.

  “Excellent,” Aunt Patti replied, then watched as Aidan slipped through the panels, closing them behind her.

  Quite pleased with herself, the dowager marchioness leaned back in her chair. She’d pulled it off. By restating the facts with a few well-placed misrepresentations, she’d convinced Aidan to head off to London, straight into her nephew’s arms—and his bed, she hoped. Although she knew Westover would turn up for his bride eventually, Pattina also knew that would be a long time in coming. Why should the man rush back here when he believed his wife was being kept captive, safe from other men’s eyes and arms? There was no need to hurry on his part that she could see. And when his temper did finally cool—in a year or two, she guessed—and he’d decided it was time to start a family, her arrogant nephew would slowly make his way back to his estate.

  “Sorry, Westover,” she said to the portrait of her nephew which hung over the marble fireplace, “but I don’t have time for you to dawdle. What is left of my life grows short, and if I had waited for you, I’d be dead and buried well before you swallowed your pride and realized the woman you were forced to marry was the only one who would ever do.” She rose from her chair to lean on her cane. “So, dear boy, I’ve hurried up that which cannot be escaped. Someday you’ll thank me for it.”

  Then, with a regal bow of her head toward the portrait, Justin’s aunt left the room.

  At twenty past six, Aidan, who was dressed in Penny’s black gown, waited in a darkened niche just outside the kitchen area, where Aunt Patti had instructed her to be. Not long after their talk, a note from the dowager marchioness had been slipped under Aidan’s door, informing her that her escape route would be via the kitchen door. She was to listen carefully and take her cue when given. There was no hint of what Lady Falvey’s directive might be, but Aidan knew she’d have only one chance, and she’d best act quickly.

  Earlier in the afternoon, while taking her daily walk, she’d scouted the area near the rear of the house, then on toward the gates, searching for places to hide as she made her quick dash toward the stand of trees at the bend in the driveway. Several shrubs, the trunk of a two-hundred-year-old oak, and a short hedge, near the gardens, were miraculously placed to her advantage, allowing her a quick, speedy jaunt from one to the other, before she hit a longer stretch which led across the lawns and into the copse. With luck, she’d make it, with no one having spotted her.

  So far, her fortune had been good. She’d been able to escape down the spiraling stairs, which led to the kitchens, without being detected. The opening and closing of several doors in the hallways had set her heart to pounding. And at one point it seemed to slip clear up into her throat when she thought she’d heard footsteps climbing the stairs toward her. Whoever it was had changed his mind and begun descending again. As soon as she thought it safe, Aidan had done the same.

  Now, while pressed from sight, Aidan felt herself growing impatient. Time was quickly passing, and she wondered what was keeping Lady Falvey. And what should she be waiting for, listening for? Instantly she received her answer.

  “All of you—snap to!” the dowager marchioness ordered with a thump of her cane as she entered the kitchens, surprising those within. “Line up over there. No, not there … there!” Lady Falvey pointed her cane toward an area meant to ensure that the entire staff would have their backs to Aidan’s hiding place. “Excellent,” she said, once everyone had scurried into position. “Now, eyes forward.” The bevy of maids and servants quickly complied. “I’ve decided to conduct an impromptu inspection. Since we have the new Duchess of Westover living under this roof, I want everything in tiptop condition. That pot,” she said of the thing as it hung from a hook on high. She hit her cane against its tarnished copper bottom and everyone, including Aidan, jumped. “I want it polished until it shines like a mirror.”

  The loud tone, which had rung out like a steeple bell, still rebounded through A
idan’s head, and she wondered if that had been her signal. Chancing a peek, she espied the marchioness, her silver brow arched; the woman gave her a slight nod.

  “Now, hands out!” Pattina stated brusquely. “I’ll tolerate no filth—anywhere.”

  As the staff mumbled among themselves, a few secretly wiping their hands on their clothing, Aidan slipped from her nook and sneaked toward the back door, praying no one would notice her movement from the corner of his or her eye. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

  “Hey, she’s tryin’ to slip off, she is,” one of the scullery maids announced, and Aidan stiffened.

  “So she is,” Aunt Patti said in a frigid tone. “Thank you for noticing.”

  With her case in front of her, her back to the staff, Aidan stood frozen, waiting for the ax to fall, should someone recognize her.

  “Eyes forward, I said!” Pattina commanded, and was instantly obeyed. “You, girl, since you probably wouldn’t have passed inspection anyway, head out that door and keep going. I’ll tolerate no deception from anyone. You may collect what’s due you, along with your belongings, on Friday next. Now, be gone with you!”

  Aidan breathed a sigh of relief and quickly headed for the door, only to smile at the marchioness’s next words.

  “Any further insubordination from anyone, and that person may follow straight after the chit! Now, let me see your hands.”

  Once Aidan’s feet had hit the crushed stone beyond the small yard just outside the kitchens, she fairly flew across the back drive toward the first shrub, then on to the next and the next, until she scurried behind the huge oak. Resting a moment, she spotted the hedge, then glanced out over the lawns toward the copse. Checking to see if anyone was about, she then dashed to the safety of the hedge and across the lawn into the stand of trees.

  Winded, she leaned back against a small tree for a brief respite to catch her breath, then made her way toward the main drive. Horse’s hooves crunched in the stone, followed by the roll of wheels. Justin’s aunt would be here any second, Aidan thought, smiling with relief.

  Suddenly a man’s voice rose up, and Aidan ducked behind a bush. Too late she recognized it as being sumac. As the gentle breeze lifted a poisonous leaf ever closer to her face, she stared down her nose at it, listening to the exchange just beyond.

  “I’m sorry, yer ladyship, but the duke said I was to check all vehicles leavin’ the property. Even yours.”

  “Get on with it, then!” Pattina snapped. “I’m already late for my outing.” Nervously the man peeked inside the phaeton, then lifted the lap robe covering Lady Falvey’s legs. “Satisfied?” Aunt Patti asked snappishly.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answered, ducking his head.

  “Then move on to the gate and open it for me,” she ordered, and the guard loped off to do so. As soon as he was out of earshot, Aunt Patti called in a whisper, “Aidan, get out here, quick.”

  Lady Falvey guided the horse and phaeton off the road as close to the trees as she could possibly get them. Backing away from the bush, Aidan breathed a sigh of relief that it hadn’t touched her, then bolted from the stand of trees and into the phaeton, beneath Aunt Patti’s feet. Before she could get settled, the horse was on its way, Aunt Patti’s feet resting on Aidan’s ribs.

  Curled into a ball under the lap robe, praying she was all tucked in tight, Aidan bounced along for what seemed an eternity. Finally the phaeton slowed, and Justin’s aunt let out an audible sigh. “We’re clear. Out from there, now.”

  Aidan pulled herself up from the floor to sit next to her fellow conspirator. Her light laughter erupted to sail high on the breeze. “Aunt Patti, you’re an absolute wonder. You should give lessons in stealth to the Queen’s own army.”

  The marchioness’s laughter joined Aidan’s. “Perhaps I should. It would be rather nice to have a flock of young men around me again, hanging on my every word. I’ll consider your suggestion, Aidan dear. Yes,” she said, smiling, her blue eyes dancing with merriment. “I will, indeed.”

  Before long, the phaeton pulled into an inn. The stage to London was already loading its passengers. Lady Falvey took several large bills from her reticule and handed them to Aidan. “This is to purchase your ticket, and the rest is for whatever you might need.”

  “I can’t possibly take all this,” Aidan said, her eyes wide as she realized just how much she had in her hand. “What will you do for funds?”

  “Westover sends me a monthly allowance, of which I spend little. What you hold in your hand is actually yours. Take it. I’ll send more as you need it. After all, your husband is responsible for your welfare. He’s promised to keep you fed, clothed, and housed in the manner to which you are accustomed. I heard him say so myself. Now, no further word on the matter. The coach will be leaving any moment.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Patti. You are a godsend.” Aidan hugged her husband’s aunt, then placed a light kiss on the woman’s lined cheek.

  “Make certain you write to let me know how things are going,” the marchioness ordered with a wave of her cane as Aidan rushed off to catch the public coach.

  “I will,” she called. “I promise.”

  With her space secured, Aidan climbed inside the stage, then waved to the dowager marchioness until the woman became a small spot in the distance. Settling back, she hugged her suitcase to her. In only a few hours she’d be back in London, free to do as she wished. Until Justin Warfield discovered she was in town, that was.

  Frowning, Aidan began to wonder what exactly her husband’s reaction might be. Volatile, she decided, and she determined to keep herself from his sight and out of his way so he wouldn’t know she was there. They could lead two separate lives, as they had before. It was apparent that in the past they’d belonged to two different social circles, for she’d never had the opportunity to meet him until the night of the Quincys’ soiree. As long as she kept to her own close companions and away from those with whom he associated, she’d be just fine. Yes, that’s what she’d do, she decided, a smile lighting her features, pleased with her plan.

  7

  Shortly after midnight, a bored Justin Warfield walked through the front door of Westover House. Handing his gloves, hat, and walking cane to Pitkin, he dismissed the man for the evening, declaring he was going to bed himself.

  After rummaging through a stack of calling cards and notes, which had been left on a silver tray atop a table near the entry, and deciding the round of visitors was again nothing more than eager fathers intent on making an alliance between their daughters and the already married duke, he headed for the stairs. Eventually a notice placed in the newspaper, announcing he was no longer available, would put a stop to the perpetual parade to and from his door, but at the moment, he preferred to keep the information about his marriage secret.

  Yet, it seemed strange that no one appeared to have any knowledge of his state of wedlock. He’d have thought that Atwood would have spread the word all over London by now, laughing at how he’d trapped the Duke of Westover into marrying his daughter. While at his club this evening, not a word had been mentioned, not even a whisper, so apparently the man had remained silent. Why, Justin was at a loss to say. Unless Atwood thought the news would start a round of gossip in which his daughter’s reputation might be sullied.

  That had to be the reason. To their peers, her sudden elopement would have meant only one thing. She’d fallen victim to the notorious young duke and found herself in the family way. Scandalous behavior, they would say, and Atwood realized the ramifications should anyone discover the couple were wed. His daughter would be ostracized, made an outcast among those who were her equals, and Atwood didn’t wish for that to happen, hence his secrecy.

  All the better for himself, Justin thought, entering his room. With Aidan securely tucked away at Warfield Manor, he could enjoy the pleasures he’d heretofore known: late nights, beautiful women, fine wines, a large wager on a hand of cards, or a quick trip to the Continent. All these were formerly and presently his. He had
to answer to no one. Least of all a wife.

  So why was he bored? he wondered as he stripped from his clothing to lie naked upon his bed. Nothing seemed to hold any interest for him. He’d been home these past several nights well before midnight, with the exception of tonight. But that was only because he’d forced himself to stay at White’s.

  Determinedly he’d joined in a dull round of conversation, played a game of cards, in which he’d quickly lost interest, along with his money, and by ten o’clock he’d found himself fighting off his urge to yawn, a rarity indeed. Still he’d stuck it out, until he’d nearly cracked his neck when he’d dozed off in his chair. Perhaps it was simply the thought of being married which had made him want to settle in like an old house husband, awaiting his slippers and pipe, desiring nothing more than the sound of a crackling fire and a good book to entertain him until bedtime.

  Ridiculous! Justin turned on his side and punched his pillow, then looked at the empty one beside him. His hand moved lightly over its down-filled volume, and he envisioned coppery tresses fanning outward over the satiny material covering it. Smiling violet eyes stared up at him, teasing him, enticing him to move closer and take what was rightfully his. His hand curled in the pillowcase, wanting to touch the shiny locks he was certain he saw. Suddenly he realized he’d been hallucinating.

  Damnation! He was going daft! Certain his delusions were caused from the intense desire to have a woman beside him and nothing else, he quickly decided that tomorrow he’d pay a call on Cynthia Danvers. With a few words of attrition, plus an expensive bauble or two, he was confident Cynthia would willingly return to his arms. And once his manly appetites had been satiated, he was certain his violet-eyed fantasy would disappear, like a wraith in the night.

  Indeed, he needed a woman, but never a wife. Positive this was so, Justin jerked the covers up over his long body and settled in for what became a disturbing, yet fulfilling night of dreams. Sweet visions of a pair of haunting violet eyes chased through his slumberous mind until dawn. Unfortunately, he had no memory of them the following morning.