by Allison Lane
Stopping in front of the dressing table, she again stared at Emily’s beautiful face. The day had been a surprising success. She had looked for and found evidence that Randolph was not the paragon Lord Broadbanks assumed. She had discovered why Drew was betrothed to Fay and had proved him innocent of any crime, demonstrating that Emily would stand beside him through thick and thin. Never in her life had she accomplished so much in so little time.
Emily’s blue eyes widened as the realization hit. She was approaching this problem differently than she’d done in the past – with confidence. Emily believed that Cherlynn Cardington could help her. Accepting that faith had saved her from most of the dithery can-I, should-I soul searching she usually indulged in. Not to mention the paralyzing fear of failure. Had her own insecurities prevented her from succeeding all these years?
She paced the room while examining her frequent failures.
Yes, she’d been insecure. Very insecure. She had often refused to try things, so sure of failure that the effort seemed wasted. Even when she made a push, her attempts were hesitant or tentative, retreating at the least hint of resistance. Her persistence in writing was more a reaction to Willard’s taunting than confidence in her abilities. And the excuses came easily. She was pudgy and plain, easy to overlook. So of course she rarely dated. Of course she received less respect from fellow House aides than the beautiful women did. Of course the Cardingtons hated her and Willard disdained her.
Yet today’s successes had nothing to do with Emily’s appearance. They were a combination of her own intelligence, a sympathetic ear, and logic.
Now that she thought about it, she had blamed her body for her all her failures. Had she hidden behind fat so that she needn’t put her real self on the line? She had started gaining weight during childhood – about the time her mother forced her into dance classes.
Damn! Once she returned home, she must adopt a new outlook. Expectations were very powerful. If she expected to fail, she would.
* * * *
Drew locked himself in the study before dinner. He had meant to examine the estate records, but he couldn’t forget Emily’s astonishing performance. She had pushed, prodded, and cajoled him into admitting facts he had suppressed. Such manipulative behavior was the antithesis of what he wanted in a wife.
Yet he couldn’t condemn her. None of her pressure promoted selfish goals. She had opened his mind to possibilities he had never considered and left him kicking himself in disgust. Why hadn’t he asked those questions before?
Randolph was suddenly an enigma. A guilty conscience would throw suspicion on his stewardship. And it didn’t do much for Drew’s own pride. He knew Randolph had died in debt. He knew his brother was a gamester. Yet Drew had never audited the books. Was Randolph in love with Fay? His words certainly implied such feelings.
More importantly, how had Emily recognized the possibility? He was beyond being irritated by her secrecy. The workings of her mind fascinated him. Her logical deductions astounded him. How had she come to be so astute?
His fingers tingled, recalling the feel of her waist as he’d helped her mount. He should have merely formed a step with his hands, but the temptation had been irresistible. And her amnesia might have demanded an explanation of what she should do. But touching her recalled their embraces and kisses, reviving the memory of her firm breasts and sweet lips. Was it possible that he might yet have her?
It was a dangerous dream. First he had to find evidence that Fay was a liar. Then he had to rid himself of her unwelcome presence without upsetting his father. Only when that was accomplished could he consider the future. In the meantime, he must treat Emily with the respect due the sister of a close friend. He could afford no hint of dishonor if he hoped to win a my-word-versus-your-word contest with Fay.
CHAPTER NINE
Cherlynn talked quietly with Anne, but her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. Though she had been dining with the family for a fortnight, tonight was the first time that guests were expected. Lord Raeburn and Fay would be among them.
Ever since she had overheard Fay’s tirade in the folly, she had dreaded meeting her. Originally Emily had been dead by now, which increased her nervousness. She was breaking new ground simply by being here. Thus she had no inkling of the outcome. Fay’s animosity could easily create problems that would make Drew’s situation even worse.
Remember Anne’s lessons in proper conduct! The rules were extensive and very precise. Committing them to memory was no challenge. It was forcing herself to think every action through before performing it that was driving her crazy. She had to behave conventionally. These people would meet Emily repeatedly once she married Drew. She must not be handicapped by Cherlynn’s mistakes. It was bad enough that Drew was puzzling over Emily’s changed demeanor.
She sighed. After their frank discussion on the cliffs, she had avoided him. The confrontation had been necessary, and it would have been impossible to succeed using Emily’s persona. But he had been shocked at her forthright manner. And curious once he had cast aside his guilt – which was why meeting him was dangerous. Assuming Emily’s meekness around Drew was nearly impossible. He sparked her own personality too easily. But neither of them would benefit by exploring it. Drew loved Emily, a situation that must remain intact. He could not become disillusioned over Emily’s apparent deceit, nor could he become attached to her new character. Thus Cherlynn must ignore her own traitorous feelings. He had kissed her more than once during her convalescence when he thought her asleep, and she’d been trying to forget the touch of his hands at her waist ever since they’d returned from the cliff. She could not afford to form a tendre for him.
Please, let me free him from Fay before I do something stupid!
She forced her mind back to the dinner guests. There were worse problems than revealing her growing infatuation. Fay was already furious over Emily’s residence, accusing Drew of conducting an affair. After his refusal to send Emily away, Fay might try to accomplish it herself.
Cherlynn shivered. There was no might about it. Fay would definitely seek to drive Emily away. Would she settle for unobtrusive insults, deliver a direct cut to a guest in her fiancé’s home, or set up a compromising situation that would destroy Emily’s reputation? Drew’s threats might keep Fay in line while in company, but they wouldn’t restrain her in private. How far would she go?
Lady Travis’s letters depicted Fay as a woman who cared little for convention when it stood in the way of her goals. Cherlynn had learned nothing that would counter that image. Historically, once Fay had actually married Drew, she had abandoned all self-control – as the letter describing Drew’s will made clear.
His wife should have expected such Judgment, for despite his three-year Absence, Broadbanks remained in touch with his steward. Banishment to Scotland is a small price to pay for her Scandalous Conduct. Even had he not caught her en flagrante with a groom the day he returned from the Army, he must have known about her activities. Her name has long been Notorious. She has No Shame and less Discretion. It is a Wonder her Nursery is not brimming.
Another letter had noted that Lady Broadbanks routinely abused servants and tenants. Any failure to instantly obey her orders met with punishment. Since arrogance and scorn for the servant class were common in the aristocracy, Fay must have been bad indeed to have elicited such censure.
Would her behavior have been better if she had not schemed for Drew’s title and wealth? Knowing that he despised her must taint her pleasure, which could make her lash out in frustration.
Cherlynn grimaced, nodding at another of Anne’s admonitions about Regency etiquette. It was a waste of time to delve into Fay’s motives. Good or bad, evil or deluded, the girl must be stopped before she destroyed Drew’s family.
Hardwick announced the Raeburns.
Fay was stunningly beautiful. The glimpse at the folly hadn’t done her justice. She was almost fairylike, with spun gold hair and golden eyes. The delicate, heart-shaped face would
turn the heads of even jaded gentlemen. In contrast, her bosom was decidedly voluptuous, but not a gentleman in the room seemed to mind. It was shown to advantage by an embroidered green silk gown similar to one Cherlynn had seen at the Victoria and Albert, but it looked far better than she had imagined. And not just because a living body gave it shape and motion. She hadn’t been able to picture what the faded color and lifeless fabric had looked like when new.
Broadbanks would not join them until dinner, so Drew was acting as host in the drawing room. And doing it with an ease Cherlynn could only envy. She had always been tongue-tied when Willard expected her to entertain guests – because you worried about the impression you were making instead of trying to make them feel comfortable. You let him convince you that you could never belong to his world. What an idiot she had been. She’d had just as much right to be there as his friends.
Her eyes followed Drew as he moved about the drawing room. He was mouth-wateringly handsome tonight, dressed more formally than usual in a burgundy jacket trimmed in black velvet. He was a far better man than Willard, treating everyone with equal respect, his warmth the same with the vicar as it was with Charles. But his expression turned remote as he welcomed the Raeburns. She could see the banked hatred in his eyes as he brought them over for introductions.
“Lady Emily . . . my betrothed, Miss Fay Raeburn. You may have met at the ball.”
His voice stumbled over the words, but it was the malevolence blazing in Fay’s eyes that sent chills tumbling down Cherlynn’s spine. Murmuring something innocuous, she wrenched her eyes away.
“Lord Raeburn,” continued Drew.
“My lord.” She offered her hand, remembering to turn it palm down so he could pay homage to it. He was a distinguished gentleman, running slightly to fat as he progressed through middle age. But the worry lines on his face hinted at a difficult life. With a daughter like Fay, that was hardly surprising.
Drew next presented Miss Testmark, Fay’s companion, a fiftyish cousin so colorless that Cherlynn had not even noticed her until that moment. The woman had an uncanny ability to fade into the background. And she was precisely the sort who would stay there, seeing, hearing, and saying nothing. Such a one would make an abominable chaperon for a girl like Fay. Little better than no companion at all.
But the biggest surprise was the last member of the Raeburn group.
“And this is Fay’s cousin, Mr. Frederick Raeburn,” said Drew. “He arrived only yesterday from America.”
“Mr. Raeburn.” She again offered her hand.
“Lady Emily.”
Drew kept Fay on his arm when he left to welcome more arrivals, his motives clear. He was keeping Fay close so she could not annoy Emily. Thus he must also expect trouble.
“What part of America are you from, Mr. Raeburn?” Cherlynn asked, turning her attention to the newcomer. He looked nothing like his cousin. At least four inches taller than Drew, Frederick’s wiry frame was topped by blazing red hair and the bluest eyes she had ever seen. And his face was deeply tanned – unlike the other gentlemen, who affected very pale skin – with none of the freckles she would have expected to accompany such coloring.
“Virginia, ma’am.”
“Really? What part?” She nearly mentioned that she had been born in Virginia, but forced herself to slow down and think before talking.
“We had a farm in the hills west of the capitol.”
“Richmond?” she murmured, but that made no sense. The mountains were nearly two hundred miles west of there.
“Washington.”
“Ah, out by the Shenandoah River. Beautiful country. Or so I’ve been told,” she added hastily.
Drew rejoined them and addressed Frederick. “You use the past tense. Have you sold the farm?”
“Yes.” He shrugged. “My family was killed by Indians in March – I was away in Baltimore at the time. Farming wasn’t for me, so I returned to England, hoping the connection with Uncle Toby would help me start a shipping business here.”
“You poor man,” murmured Anne compassionately. “Your entire family?”
“Yes. Parents, three brothers, and two sisters.” His lips moved as he struggled to control his voice. So much blood. Cherlynn saw the words rather than heard them. Something fretted at her mind, but she could not bring it into focus. Perhaps later.
“Quite a tragedy,” agreed Lord Raeburn. “But we are glad you turned to us in your hour of need. I can put you in touch with some people in London.” He frowned. “Not quite the thing for a baron’s heir to be dabbling in trade, but with your American background, most folk will make allowances.”
Drew went to greet a new arrival, taking Fay and her father with him.
“Virginia must be beautiful,” said Anne shyly.
“Very.” Frederick smiled almost protectively at the girl. “I will miss the mountains, but I was planning to leave home anyway.”
“To set up your shipping business in Baltimore?” murmured Cherlynn.
“It is the nearest good port,” he agreed. “But I couldn’t stay there now. I needed to come home.”
“You were born here, then?” she asked.
“My mother and Lady Raeburn were sisters. Pa was Raeburn’s heir when they married, so they lived at Raeburn House for a time. But it wasn’t a comfortable arrangement. Pa never expected to come into the title – who would have predicted that Aunt Faith would produce but one girl – so he was determined to make a place for himself. We left for America just after Fay’s birth, but I was only two, so I recall nothing of England. Even after Aunt Faith died five years ago, Pa did not seriously expect the title. Uncle Toby was still a young man who would probably marry again. And may yet. He is only fifty.”
“So that is another reason to build your own business,” Cherlynn said with a nod. “Wise man.”
“Tell me about your farm,” asked Anne. “Unless talking of it is too painful,” she added uncertainly.
“The land is too beautiful to bring pain,” he said softly. “The Shenandoah runs along one of the valleys enfolded in great ridges that extend for hundreds of miles. But they are cozy mountains for all that, covered with forests and sheltering an abundance of game.”
“The mists that cling to the slopes often change their color from green to blue,” murmured Cherlynn, recalling the hills of her childhood. “But it is autumn that truly marks their splendor.”
“Exactly.” He was so caught up in memory that he did not notice her slip.
“There are more rugged mountains to the west,” she added, then chided herself for forgetting her role. “I have heard that explorers encountered massive rocky mountains.”
“That is true. President Jefferson sent Lewis and Clark to explore the land he purchased from France. They returned with tales of broad grasslands covered with beasts larger than cattle, of rock pinnacles so tall they scrape the sky, and of narrow gorges through which rivers tumble in wild fury. They are not men prone to exaggeration, so we must believe them. But I prefer the tranquil beauty of the Shenandoah.”
As do I, but Cherlynn kept the thought to herself this time, then prudently moved away to converse with Lady Clifford, leaving Anne and Frederick in a discussion of American wildflowers.
Dinner was enjoyable. Drew had seated Emily next to Lord Broadbanks, placing Fay on his own right at the foot of the table. Cherlynn alternated between lighthearted exchanges with the marquess and Frederick’s spirited descriptions of an America she knew only from books. Only two things marred the meal. Fay glared daggers at her whenever Broadbanks chuckled. And her feeling that Frederick was hiding something important grew stronger. He must realize that this was an inauspicious time to start a British-American shipping company. He had sailed from Baltimore barely a week before war broke out. Americans would soon be burning York. Had he fled for some reason?
It really wasn’t her business. She had enough mysteries on her hands. It was better to relax, enjoy an evening like so many she had described in books, and r
evel in being accepted as an equal.
An unfortunate thought, for it recalled that mortifying gathering that her in-laws had hosted during her one visit to their home. The guests had looked down their noses as if she were some form of vermin. Her clothes had been hopelessly casual, though even if Willard had warned her, she couldn’t have afforded anything suitable.
At least she no longer had that problem. Emily’s wardrobe contained gowns for every occasion. And Anne’s tutoring had given her confidence that her manners would pass scrutiny. All she had to do was watch her tongue, and she appeared the perfect Regency miss.
Far too soon for Cherlynn’s peace of mind, Anne rose to escort the ladies to the drawing room. Cherlynn managed to stay near Lady Clifford and the vicar’s wife for nearly half an hour while Anne played quietly on the pianoforte, but Fay eventually cut them out.
“You certainly don’t look too ill to travel,” she said as soon as they had moved out of earshot.
“But looks are so often deceiving, don’t you find?” Cherlynn stared pointedly at Fay’s own appearance. This was no time to project Emily’s sensibilities.
“I want you out of this house.”
“Sorry to disoblige you, but you are not my hostess, Miss Raeburn,” she said implacably. “My brother and my doctor will determine when I leave. The last time I checked, you were neither.” Her shoulders tensed as Fay’s hands tightened into claws.
“I will soon be the mistress of Broadbanks Hall,” Fay hissed. “And I will tolerate no interference. If you have some idea of comforting my husband, forget it.”
Cherlynn drew herself up to Emily’s full height – which topped Fay by a good six inches – adopting the same haughty expression Drew had used in the folly. “Your manners are sadly lacking, Miss Raeburn. You are not Lady Thurston yet. Nor will a title cover your many flaws. If you hope to be accepted as a lady, you must watch your tongue. Not even Lord Thurston’s credit will excuse such insolence in London – assuming he would even take you there. He is a stickler for propriety, as you must know.”