by Cheryl Holt
“Be safe,” Stanley said.
“I always am.”
“Write to me,” Stanley said again, suddenly desperate to hear that James would.
“Once I’m settled,” James said.
He tugged on the reins and was gone, swiftly swallowed up by the dark.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“You’ll pay for this!”
“I already have—just by you showing your face over here. It’s never pleasant when you visit.”
“I won’t be mocked!”
Rose was coming down the main stairs when angry voices drifted up from down below. She halted on the landing and peeked over the banister to see Stanley and Oscar Oswald, toe-to-toe, their fury evident.
“She’s a tart and always has been,” Mr. Oswald was saying. “You’re the only one who didn’t know it.”
“My daughter will not be shamed like this. Neither will I.”
“She needs to marry.”
“On that point, we agree.”
“I’ll find her the husband she deserves,” Mr. Oswald fumed, “but it won’t be him.”
“He will do right by her! If I have to sue him in the courts to make him behave properly, then I shall.”
“I’m weary of your melodrama, and I’ve had enough. It’s time for you to leave.”
The butler was standing by the front door. As if on cue, he whipped it open.
The vicar was so incensed he was shaking, and Mr. Oswald watched him with a bored expression.
“You haven’t heard the last of this,” Vicar Oswald hurled like a threat.
“I’m sure that’s true,” Mr. Oswald stoically retorted. “You never did know when to shut up.”
“A moral crime has been committed, and a moral price must be paid.” The vicar wagged a finger at Mr. Oswald. “We’ll see who is victorious in the end.”
“Yes, we will.” Mr. Oswald batted the finger away.
“Tell him what I said! Tell him he’s in my sights, and I won’t stop until he makes the appropriate amends.”
“He’ll be delighted to receive your message.” Mr. Oswald motioned to the door. “Now drag your ass home to that little trollop and inform her it will be a cold day in Hades before anyone believes her lies.”
The vicar stormed out, and the butler closed the door after him. Then he and Mr. Oswald tarried, frozen in place until they were certain the vicar had left.
When it became clear that he had, Mr. Oswald spun to the stairs and peered up at Rose, having realized she was eavesdropping. She should have guessed he would. He was incredibly astute.
“Good morning, Miss Ralston.”
“Hello.”
“Come down, would you? We need to talk.”
“I was…ah…on my way to breakfast.”
“I’ll have the servants deliver a tray for you.” He gestured down the hall toward his library. “If you’ll join me…?”
As always in her interactions with him, she couldn’t refuse. She was a respectful person in general, and he was elderly. Plus, with his promise to return her dowry after her month’s sojourn was concluded, she didn’t want to upset him. She simply wanted him to follow through and give her the money.
Upon awakening, Rose’s first thought had been about that money. She had no idea how much it was, but she and James could use it to live on until they found new positions in London.
She was so happy! With matters resolved between them, she’d raced downstairs, anxious to see him at the breakfast table. She was excited to spend the day making plans and couldn’t bear to waste time in a private chat with Mr. Oswald. But apparently, it couldn’t be avoided.
Forcing a smile, she started down.
“Yes, of course, I’ll join you,” she cheerily agreed.
“Thank you.”
He waited for her, offering his arm as he escorted her to his library.
He went around and sat behind his massive desk, and as she seated herself in the chair across, she said, “I couldn’t help but overhear you in the foyer with Vicar Oswald. He seemed very angry.”
“He was.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious.”
“Actually, I need to discuss his visit with you. There are some issues of which you must be apprised.”
The comment surprised her. “My goodness. What are they?”
He sighed, looking horridly aggravated. “I’m embarrassed to tell you, but I must. The gossip will spread like wildfire.”
“Gossip about what?”
“James has landed himself in a jam, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to get him out of it.”
“What sort of…jam?”
“He’s always flirted with Veronica. You’re aware of how it is with forbidden fruit, and the vicar’s daughter is the most forbidden of all.”
Rose’s pulse began to gallop. “What are you talking about?”
“He finally went too far.” More to himself than to her, he muttered, “I warned him about her, but he never would listen to me.”
“What happened?”
What, what, what? It seemed the only word she knew.
“There’s no polite way to explain it,” Mr. Oswald replied, “so I’ll just blurt it out. Forgive me for being blunt.”
“Yes, please be candid. I prefer it.”
“He was with her last night, doing what he shouldn’t have.”
Rose gasped. She couldn’t hold it in. “He was with Veronica in an improper situation?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“I’m not certain exactly. My brother caught her sneaking into the rectory about two o’clock, and she’s confessed her transgressions.”
Rose was so shocked, she was amazed she didn’t slide off her chair and collapse on the floor in a stunned heap. At two, she’d been pacing her bedchamber, wondering where James was and starting to suspect he wasn’t coming.
He’d been with Veronica? Rose couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t betray her like that, wouldn’t treat her so badly. She and James were in love. They were moving to London to marry and live happily ever after.
Rose inhaled a deep breath to calm herself, then said, “I wouldn’t necessarily take Veronica’s word for it.”
“I feel the same.”
“Have you spoken to Mr. Talbot?”
“Yes, I have. Can you keep a secret for me, Miss Ralston?”
“Absolutely.”
Mr. Oswald sighed again, appearing as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Unfortunately, he’s verified her account.”
“He admitted it?”
“Yes. The little tart has him boxed into a corner, and I’ll have to work like the dickens to save him from her marital noose.”
“Mr. Talbot and Veronica.” She pronounced the names slowly, as if her mouth couldn’t articulate them.
“It’s pitiful, isn’t it? But I’m afraid I have to ask for more discretion from you. For all my quarrels with James, I really like the boy. I can’t punish him by having him wed to Veronica.”
“I imagine it would be awful,” Rose mumbled.
“So while you and I know the truth, I am denying Veronica’s claim. I’ve told my brother that James departed for London directly after supper, that he couldn’t have trifled with her because he was gone. You didn’t see him after supper, did you? If you did, I need you to keep that information to yourself.”
Rose stared down at her hands where they were folded in her lap. Her fingers were interlaced, and she was squeezing them together so tightly that her knuckles were white.
“No…ah…I didn’t see him,” she ultimately said.
“Good, so you don’t have to lie about it.” He chuckled. “I’ll lie for both of us.”
“Where is Mr. Talbot?”
“He left for London just before dawn.”
At the news, her heart lurched in her chest, suddenly aching so painfully that she worried it might quit beating.
“He left?”
“There wasn’t an
y reason for him to stay, was there?”
“Well…”
“Not that I could discern anyway.” Mr. Oswald paused, then said, “And with our situation concluded, it didn’t seem appropriate for him to remain.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll be blunt again, Miss Ralston.”
“Yes, please.”
“You remember the bargain he and I had with regard to you.”
“Your bargain?”
“Yes, that he would help me with my problem. Before he rode off, he confided that he’d taken care of things with you. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you decided to proceed.”
Rose was shocked again, to her very core. James had revealed their affair to Mr. Oswald? James had admitted to Mr. Oswald that he and Rose had fornicated? He’d divulged the private, personal encounter?
“Mr. Talbot talked to you about me?”
“Yes. He told me all the details.”
“He wouldn’t have,” she breathed.
“He was most concerned about this nonsense with Veronica. He claimed he was very friendly with you now and didn’t want you to have a bad opinion. He wished you’d never find out.”
“Find out?”
“I advised him that I couldn’t keep it from you. The entire mess will cause quite a stir, and Summerfield is a small place. There’s no way I could have prevented you from hearing about it.”
If Mr. Oswald had beaten her with a stick, she couldn’t have felt anymore pummeled. He stared at her—coldly, dispassionately—and she returned his stare, her mind so chaotically confused that she was dizzy with dismay.
She’d assumed she knew and understood James Talbot, but if Mr. Oswald’s tale was accurate, she hadn’t known James at all.
What was true? What wasn’t? How was she supposed to glean the difference?
“Will…ah…Mr. Talbot ever come back to Summerfield?”
“I don’t expect he will,” he killed her by saying. “I had promised him several boons for his assistance with you—mainly some information about his parents—and I’ve given him a substantial amount of money too, as a reward for services rendered. He’ll use it to sail to India.”
“India!”
“It’s for the best, Miss Ralston. You have to realize that it is.”
“Why?”
“If he’d stayed on at Summerfield, it would have made matters between you and myself extremely awkward.”
“Matters between us?” She was too befuddled to concentrate.
“Yes, after we wed and you have the child, I couldn’t have James loitering and interfering. He and I never intended that he’d remain. It was always the plan that he would leave after he finished with you.”
The way Mr. Oswald pronounced the word finished was a slap in the face to Rose. She could have been a brood mare out in the stable.
“Well, my plan,” Rose forced out, “is that I will depart in another ten days or so. I’m no longer interested in marrying you.”
He scoffed. “Of course you’ll marry me. You can’t be trotting around the countryside, with child and without husband.”
A wave of nausea gurgled in her stomach, and she was afraid she might wretch all over the expensive carpet.
“Would you excuse me?” She pushed herself to her feet.
“I will for now, but we must confer later. Once we’ve determined your condition, we’ll send for a Special License and begin planning the wedding. I have to invite many of the neighbors, but the final guest list will be up to you.”
“Yes, yes…” Rose didn’t mean to agree. She just wanted to escape, to lie down so the world would stop spinning.
As she turned to go, her nausea increased, her dizziness too. She stumbled as if she might faint, and she had to grab onto the chair to keep from falling.
He was around the desk in a flash, and he clasped her elbow to steady her.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m a tad…dizzy.”
He called for a housemaid to escort Rose to her room. Rose was too disoriented to walk on her own, and she clutched the maid’s arm and staggered up the stairs to collapse on her bed. The girl covered her with a blanket, then pulled the drapes to shut out the bright morning sunlight.
He left! Rose mourned. He left without a goodbye! I could be having his baby, and he left me here with Mr. Oswald!
Impatiently, she shooed the maid out, and once she was alone, she started to cry.
* * * *
“May I speak with you?”
“Certainly.”
Lucas gestured to Miss Ralston, urging her over.
She’d found him in the music room, dabbling on the harpsichord. It had been an odd day and an even odder evening. There had been no company for supper. He and Stanley had dined in the small parlor, huddled together and discussing Veronica. They were grand conspirators, and as they’d gotten their stories straight, Lucas had been delighted to find that Stanley’s devious brain worked much like Lucas’s.
Trouble had been brewing with Veronica—he’d predicted it—and he regretted that he hadn’t dragged James away when they’d initially quarreled over her. And he’d be eternally grateful to Stanley for saving James from the terrible fate of being Veronica’s husband.
He hadn’t seen Miss Ralston all day, and he wondered what she thought of the drama. Had she been apprised?
He was seated on the bench at the harpsichord, and he ran his fingers over the keys with a flourish.
“Aren’t I remarkable?” He grinned up at her. “My ability to play is my only skill. Please tell me I’m marvelous. I won’t be able to stand it if you don’t.”
“I’m not feeling very well,” was her quiet reply. “Could we not joke and jest?”
At her solemn tone, he noticed she was wretched and pale as a ghost, as if she’d been ill.
“I apologize. I never know when to be serious. Actually, I’m never serious. My father would insist it’s my worst flaw.”
She didn’t respond, and he pointed to a nearby sofa.
“You look awful,” he said. “Sit down before you fall down.”
She sidled over and eased herself onto the cushion. He slid from the bench and sat in the chair across. There was a lamp on the table, and it highlighted her face, starkly enhancing her misery.
Was this woe because of James? Had she been that attached? Or was it something else? Had Stanley hurt her? If so, Lucas was hardly the one to fix any problem.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’ve kept a secret from you.”
“A secret! Then you must spill all, my dear.” She couldn’t begin, and he waved her on. “Go ahead. I’m a good listener.”
She dithered forever, as if her next comment would be extremely difficult to voice. Ultimately, she said, “We have a personal connection I haven’t revealed.”
“What connection?”
“We’re cousins.”
“Cousins?”
“Yes.”
“Through which kin?”
“Your father and my mother were siblings.”
“First cousins? Really?”
“Yes.”
“All this time, and you were silent about it.” He frowned. “You’re sure? You’re not making it up?”
She snorted with disgust. “Trust me, I wouldn’t invent a relationship with you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged. “The Drake family never claimed me, and in return, I haven’t claimed them.”
“But all of a sudden, you’re eager. Why?”
“I need your help.”
He was a treacherous ass and the very last kind of man a woman should rely on for anything, but he was so intrigued by her. She didn’t like him! She didn’t like his family! He couldn’t decide what to think.
“Where have you been all these years?” he inquired, then raised a hand to stop her. “Obviously, you were at Miss Peabody’s school.”
“Yes. Wh
en my mother died, I was four. Your grandfather was named my guardian, but he was so angry with my mother that he refused to assist me.”
“You were only four,” he indignantly huffed.
“Yes.”
“Why was he so angry?”
“My mother had sought his permission to marry my father, and when it was denied, they eloped. She was disowned and forgotten.”
“And never forgiven. How typical of the Drakes.”
“I always thought so.”
“Your parents died in Egypt, right? It’s all coming back to me.”
“Yes, we were in Egypt, and some people there—I don’t remember who—contacted your grandfather so he could bring me to Sidwell.”
“But he wouldn’t?”
“He sent me to Miss Peabody instead. After he passed away, your father kept me there.”
“You never visited. You never wrote.”
“Don’t be a dunce, Mr. Drake,” she snapped. “Of course I didn’t write or visit. Your father and grandfather were quite clear. I wasn’t welcome at Sidwell.”
“Oh.”
He could certainly understand it. The two men had always been pompous and ridiculous. It was entirely predictable that they would have tormented a little girl.
“I’m sorry.” The apology was inadequate, but he offered it anyway. “We can be friends now, can’t we? We don’t have to labor under their idiotic rules.”
“I hope we can be friends. That’s why I asked to speak with you.”
“Would you call me Lucas? It’s ludicrous for us to be so formal.”
“I’d rather not, Mr. Drake.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “Please continue. What do you want of me?”
“I’m alone in the world, and you’re a male family member. I’m begging for your help.”
“With what?” He scowled. “And don’t beg. I hate that sort of heightened sentiment.”
“I have to leave Summerfield.” Tears filled her eyes, making them glitter like diamonds. “Would you take me away from here?”
“To where?”
“London? Or Sidwell Manor? Your father is very wealthy. He must own a dozen houses. Could I stay in one of them? Just until I can figure out what to do.”
“What happened that you can’t stay at Summerfield? Is it James? Is it the fact that he left?”