“Dom doesn’t care about me anymore,” she told Lisette, mostly to divert her from her matchmaking.
It didn’t work. Lisette rolled her eyes. “Who’s being oblivious now?”
Later, as they barreled toward Saffron Walden, Jane couldn’t stop thinking about what Lisette had said. Dom really could be terribly bullheaded when he thought he was pursuing the right course of action. Like the way he’d been with her years ago. And his insistence that Nancy was plotting to take the viscountcy from him.
Not to mention his blaming Nancy for George’s presence in the library that awful night. If he’d had any sense, he would have realized how little his assumption made sense. But he’d been too caught up in creating an image of Nancy as some sort of schemer so he didn’t have to dwell on his own culpability.
What did that mean for her future? For their future?
The thought tantalized her—a future with Dom. He still wanted her, in his bed and in his life. And she still wanted him. Lord help her, but she did.
She just didn’t want to want him, not when he made plans for her without consulting her. Today was a perfect example. He didn’t want to discuss what was going on with her, so he ran off, leaving her to fret. She couldn’t live like that.
But could she live with Edwin now that she knew what being in Dom’s arms was like? Or was she deceiving herself when she said it didn’t matter?
A pox on Dom for rousing all these feelings again. And a pox on Nancy, too, for forcing her into this situation in the first place. When Jane caught up to her cousin, she was going to shake her senseless.
♦ ♦ ♦
JANE, LISETTE, AND Max arrived at the Ravens-wood estate very late in the evening. There was no sign of Dom and Tristan or even the viscount, but his wife, the exotic-looking Lady Ravenswood, was there to greet them. Jane had heard much about the viscountess but had never met her, so Max performed introductions, since he’d apparently known the couple for some time.
“We are so sorry to intrude,” Lisette told the viscountess. “If you could just direct us to my brothers, we’ll take ourselves out of your hair.”
“Nonsense,” Lady Ravenswood said. “My husband and the other gentlemen have gone to visit an associate of his, but since they were uncertain how long that would take, I suggested to his lordship that you and the rest of your party should dine here and stay the night.”
“We wouldn’t wish to put you out,” Max said without a whit of sincerity.
“And we can’t stay,” Jane put in hastily. “The matter that takes us to London is of the utmost urgency.”
Lady Ravenswood smiled kindly. “That may be so, but the gentlemen seemed to think that a good night’s rest wouldn’t hurt.” She cast a furtive glance at Lisette. “Besides, I understand that the duchess has recently borne a child, and I know very well how taxing those first months afterward can be.”
After glancing at Lisette, Jane winced to see how the woman was flagging and chided herself for being so inconsiderate as to drag everyone along with her at such a reckless pace. The duke and duchess had only come along to chaperone, not to be run ragged.
“Of course you’re right,” Jane told the viscountess. “Lisette really should rest.”
“I’ll show you upstairs,” Lady Ravenswood said. “The gentlemen may not return for hours, and they insisted that you sup without them. But since it’s already quite late, you may prefer to have trays in your rooms.”
“That would be lovely, actually,” Lisette said with such relief that Jane realized just how weary she was. “We appreciate your kindness.”
A short while later, the viscountess had settled Max and Lisette into a guest suite and ordered supper trays for them.
But as she guided Jane down the hall, Jane said, “If you don’t mind, I prefer to wait downstairs for the gentlemen’s return.”
A frown furrowed Lady Ravenswood’s brow. “It might be some time yet. And I gathered from their discussion earlier that Lord Rathmoor and Mr. Bonnaud may very well leave for London as soon as they’re done with supper here.”
Again? Dom meant to leave her without a word again? Not if she had anything to say about it.
Jane forced a smile. “Unfortunately, since the matter the men are pursuing involves me and my cousin, I really must consult with his lordship and Mr. Bonnaud before they head for London. And I do not mean to let them leave without giving me a report.”
That seemed to startle the woman. “Forgive me, but I was given to understand by my husband that you and Lord Rathmoor haven’t been friendly since the two of you were engaged and you . . . well . . .”
“Jilted him?” One day Jane was going to subject Dom to a long list of all the ways in which his subterfuge had created problems for her. But at the moment, she needed Lady Ravenswood on her side. “That is only partly true. Tell me, madam, have you ever been the victim of unfair or misinformed gossip?”
Pain glimmered in the viscountess’s dark eyes. “I’m the American half-Senecan wife of a viscount with high-placed friends. So yes, you might say I have.”
Jane gentled her tone. “Then you’ll understand how easy it is for society to misconstrue matters. Lord Rathmoor and I . . . have a rather complicated association, which he seems determined not to complicate further. I believe that is why he refuses to give me my report. And that’s why I could use your help.”
“In what?” the woman said warily.
“Nothing too awful, I assure you. As you will understand when I explain.”
She would tell her ladyship however much was necessary to gain her aid. Because it began to appear that the only way to fight Dom’s sly ways was to take some devious measures of her own.
13
THE SOUND OF voices in the hall woke Jane with a start. Sweet Lord, she hadn’t meant to sleep. But it had been hard not to in the richly upholstered wing chair where she sat hidden from view in Lord Ravenswood’s library.
Now fully awake, however, Jane tensed when the voices stopped outside the library door. Once Jane had persuaded Lady Ravenswood to help her, the viscountess had readily agreed to guide her husband to settle with the gentlemen in here, where trays of food had been set out. Though Jane hated spying on them, she saw no other choice. Dom stubbornly insisted on avoiding her, and Tristan would do whatever he commanded.
The door opened, and Jane sank down into the high-backed chair that faced away from it. Lady Ravenswood had assured her that she couldn’t be seen from behind.
“Does the coachman think he can repair them?” said a voice that had to be Lord Ravenswood’s, since she didn’t recognize it.
“He’s not sure. They’re newly patented, so he doesn’t know if he can figure out how they work.”
The low thrum of Dom’s voice sent her pulse into a dance. Devil take him! She’d just seen him last night; his mere voice shouldn’t make her swoon, for pity’s sake. It shouldn’t make her remember the soft words he’d whispered as he’d caressed her and kissed her and swept her into madness . . .
What was wrong with her? She wasn’t letting that man sweep her anywhere, not as long as he only wanted to sweep her out of his way.
Now if only she could be sure why.
She strained to listen. For a while, the gentlemen were too intent on eating to say much of interest. But once the clink of silver ended and the clink of glasses began, their tongues loosened.
Thank heaven for brandy. She could smell it all the way over here.
“Even if the carriage lamps are repaired,” Lord Ravenswood said, “it’s not safe for you to leave tonight. And a few hours won’t make much difference to your investigation.”
“I told him that,” said Tristan, “but my fool of a brother is obsessed with avoiding Miss Vernon’s questions, and he thinks he can only manage that by staying ahead of our party.”
“Ah,” the viscount said.<
br />
Jane dug her fingers into her palms. After their intimacies last night, she’d thought they might have some chance together, but he only shared his body with her. Everything else he kept secret.
You’re the one hiding here in the corner, her conscience said.
Yes, because it was her only way around the tight-lipped devil.
“How will you find Barlow?” Lord Ravenswood asked. “I don’t suppose you’ll want to talk to Blakeborough.”
“The earl isn’t going to give up his brother until he knows all the facts,” Tristan said.
“Good luck providing them,” Dom said. “So far even we can’t seem to discover all the facts.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more with that,” Lord Ravenswood said.
Tristan snorted. “I still don’t understand how your associate here could be entirely unaware of Barlow’s address in London.”
“Men like Barlow move through the shadows. Since even arranging prizefights is illegal, those who do it don’t exactly advertise where they live.”
Samuel was involved with prizefights? How odd. She’d wondered what he’d been doing all these years, but never suspected it would be something so shady. Did Edwin know? By unspoken agreement, they never discussed Samuel.
“I’ve kept track of Barlow in York,” his lordship continued, “but to my knowledge he doesn’t set up fights in London, so I have no idea where he stays when he’s in town.”
“You surprise me, Ravenswood,” Dom said dryly. “I thought you had your thumb on every miscreant of note.”
“I’m not as active in such matters as I once was. My subordinate has taken over most of that work. These days, my world is all politics.”
“Well,” Dom said, “you’ve been a great help with the information about why Barlow was disinherited. It reinforces my suspicions about him. Though I do wish you’d give us the name of the young heiress whose life he ruined.”
Jane tensed. She’d always heard Samuel was a rogue, but to ruin a lady? That went beyond the pale.
“She is now happily wed to a respectable gentleman who doesn’t care what happened between her and Barlow,” Lord Ravenswood responded, “and I wouldn’t damage her marriage for the world by stirring up that muck again.”
“Neither would I,” Dom said icily. “I’m always discreet.”
“I realize that, but I promised her father I’d never reveal her identity to anyone, and that includes you,” Lord Ravenswood countered. “She won’t be able to tell you anything, anyway. It’s not as if Barlow took her back to his lodgings before they set off for Gretna Green.”
If Samuel had eloped with this girl, how had she ended up married to someone else? Besides, an attempted elopement might tarnish his reputation, but it would hardly get him disinherited.
“The more you tell me about him, however,” Dom said, “the more convinced I am that Barlow is engaged in a scheme to wrest my property from me.”
“You’re probably right,” Lord Ravenswood answered. “But I’m not nearly as certain as you that your sister-in-law is actively aiding him in the deception.”
“Dom is a bit biased against Nancy,” Tristan put in. “With her being George’s widow and all.”
“That’s absurd,” Dom retorted. “I am merely considering the facts that you uncovered, dear brother. You can’t dispute that Nancy was seen leaving York of her own accord with Barlow, headed for London.”
“Come now,” Ravenswood said, “you know as well as I do that brute strength isn’t the only way a man can force a woman to his will.”
“I realize that,” Dom said testily. “But until I can be sure Nancy means me no harm, I have to assume the worst.” Jane heard the ring of a glass against the tray. “I’m going to check the progress of your man’s repairs. Coming, Tristan?”
“No,” Tristan surprised her by saying. “I agree with Ravenswood. We might as well wait until tomorrow to travel. And if you’re still set on avoiding Jane, we can just get up early as we did this morning.”
Jane made a face. Little did they know—she was not going to let them get away with that again.
A weighted silence fell on the room that was only broken when Dom muttered a coarse oath. “Fine. I’ll tell the coachman that he can head for bed and not worry about the carriage lamps. You should go to bed, too, Tristan.”
“I want a word with him first,” Lord Ravenswood said smoothly.
“If you mean to suck him into your shadowy world—” Dom began.
“I told you, I’m not much involved in that business anymore.” Lord Ravenswood’s voice tightened. “But if that was my intention, you wouldn’t have a say in it.”
“The blazes I wouldn’t. I refuse to see my brother end up with a scar like mine. Or worse.”
Jane sat up straight. Had Lord Ravenswood caused Dom’s scar?
“Blame me as much as you wish, but you know that wasn’t my doing,” Ravenswood said softly. “Nor yours. Stop tormenting yourself over something that was always beyond both our controls.”
Ravenswood was wasting his breath. Dom believed nothing was beyond his control.
She waited for Dom to say as much, fancying she could feel the tension in the room. A hundred questions flooded her, questions she meant to ask as soon as she could get Dom alone again.
“Good night to you both then,” Dom said stiffly as if Ravenswood hadn’t spoken a word. “I’ll have one of the grooms bring in our bags now that we’re staying.”
Then she heard the door open and close, and her heart constricted. Dom had more secrets than she’d guessed.
As soon as the sound of Dom’s footsteps receded, Lord Ravenswood said, “Do you think Rathmoor really will go on to bed? Or will he set off for London on his own?”
“My brother is a careful man,” Tristan said. “It’s not in his nature to be reckless.”
Except when it came to her. Dom was so determined to avoid her that he might just take his life in his hands for it.
“What do you think, Miss Vernon?” Lord Ravens-wood asked in a raised voice.
Miss Vernon? Her heart sank into her stomach. Lady Ravenswood must have revealed Jane’s intention to spy on the men. But then why hadn’t the viscount said something sooner? Was he bluffing?
“No point in hiding in that chair any longer,” Lord Ravenswood added. “I know you’re there.”
Definitely not bluffing.
With a sigh, Jane rose to face the gentlemen, who instantly stood, too. Tristan gaped at her. Lord Ravens-wood did not. As his keen gray eyes assessed her from beneath a pair of nondescript brown brows, his face showed no expression.
That troubled her. It reminded her too much of Dom.
“It’s good to meet you at last,” the viscount said with a courtly bow.
“I wish I could say the same.” She gazed at him warily. “I assume that your wife told you what I was up to.”
“No, she’s not one to tattle, but she is rather bad at deception. So when she insisted that we take our supper in the library, I guessed that something was afoot.” He nodded to the high-backed chair. “Especially when I saw that the chair had been turned around. And since I doubted that the duke or duchess would have cause to eavesdrop, that left only you.” When she winced, he added, “Not for nothing was I appointed to my position, Miss Vernon.”
Having gotten over his initial shock, Tristan eyed her cautiously. “You heard everything.”
She shrugged. “As you said, your brother is obsessed with keeping things from me. You left me no choice.”
Tristan whirled on the viscount. “And you were aware she was listening in! Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“She has a right to the truth,” his lordship said simply. “You know she does, or you wouldn’t be calling your brother a fool for keeping it from her.”
Tristan cr
ossed his arms over his chest. “Dom didn’t want to alarm her until he had all the facts.”
“No,” Jane countered, “he didn’t want to argue with me over what he considers ‘facts.’ But that isn’t his decision to make. I’m the one who involved him in the search. I never would have if I’d known he would push me out of it.”
The viscount’s gaze shifted to her. “Still, I daresay you had your own reasons for involving him, given why you jilted him.”
As she gaped at the man, Tristan muttered, “Hell and thunder, even I don’t know why she did that.” He slanted a glance at Ravenswood. “Dom wasn’t lying when he said you have your finger in every pie.”
Lord Ravenswood’s tight smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Hardly. But a man generally turns confessional under the influence of laudanum, and we had to give your brother a great deal the day he got that scar on his cheek. It wasn’t the only wound he received. It’s just the only one he can’t hide.”
Her heart chilled. “He has other wounds? Where? How did he get them?”
“You’ll have to ask him. If he won’t even tell his family, I imagine he has his reasons.”
Yet Lord Ravenswood had roused their curiosity enough to ensure that they would ask. The man was almost as wily as Dom, though in this instance she was grateful for it. The thought of Dom injured so badly that he required “a great deal of laudanum” alarmed her more than she could say.
“But I’m happy to answer your questions concerning your cousin and Mr. Barlow,” Lord Ravenswood went on. “If you still have any after eavesdropping on our discussion.”
She ignored his sarcasm. Because one thing about what she’d overheard still worried her. “You mentioned that Samuel eloped with a young woman. So why did she end up married to someone else?”
“Because she changed her mind about the elopement on their way to Gretna Green. She told Barlow she couldn’t go through with it and tried to get him to return her home. He refused, and when she attempted to get the coachman to stop, he—”
“Don’t tell her that,” Tristan said in a low voice. “There’s no reason to alarm her.”
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