Dark Angel (Lescaut Quartet)

by Tracy Grant

  "In that case, I believe we are done," Castlereagh said at last. "Anything else? Granby? Palmerston? Colonel Rawley?"

  "Nothing." Talbot's voice was expressionless. As they got to their feet, he met Adam's gaze. There was no doubt that he knew Adam had just thrown down the gauntlet.

  Adam had accomplished what he wanted. Talbot must realize it would no longer do him any good to silence Caroline. He would have to turn his attention to Adam. And in the process, Adam hoped, he would betray himself.

  Adam left the Foreign Office, wondering what demons he had just unleashed.

  Chapter Twenty

  It was just past noon when Dorothy Rawley called a second time at the Wellstone house. She was more agitated than Caroline had ever seen her. "Caro, love," she said, giving her friend a hasty embrace, "tell me you're all right." She drew back and studied the other woman's face, seeing, Caroline guessed, the pallor of her skin and the dark circles beneath her eyes and putting it down to what had happened in the Granby salon, not what had followed. "Yes, of course you are," Dolly went on. "I would have spoken last night, but a dignified exit seemed the only way to end that ugly scene, and you did that superbly."

  "Dolly, do sit down."

  "I can't, I'm too angry."

  Caroline sank onto the sofa, unable to face Dolly's outbursts of energy without support. "I'm angry, too, but it's over. There's nothing to be done."

  Dolly looked at her in amazement. "There's everything to be done. Talbot is an absolute beast. I told him so. I shall never forgive him for what he did and I told him that too. I forbade him to ever speak of the matter again. It won't go beyond the family. Jared's father has no reason to spread the story about, and Granby is too much the gentleman to do so. Edward won't either. I told him he mustn't, and in this he stands firmly beside me."

  Caroline laughed helplessly. "Dolly, Dolly, what can I say? It doesn't matter now whether the story is spread about."

  Dolly threw her reticule on a table and sat beside Caroline on the sofa. "Of course it matters. Don't you remember how these things are done?"

  "I can't pass off Emily as Jared's child."

  "Why not? Jared acknowledged her. That makes her a Rawley."

  "Jared's father knows differently."

  "Jared's father knows only what Talbot accused you of. You must give him the lie."

  "It's not a lie." Caroline felt unspeakably weary. "Emily is not Jared's child. Dolly, I made a dreadful mistake."

  Dolly opened her mouth, closed it, and took a deep breath. "What kind of bourgeois morality are you spouting at me? I know dozens of women who have children by men other than their husbands, and I've yet to hear of a husband who objected. They're too busy on their own account. Think of Lady Cowper. She's accepted everywhere. Jared said Emily was his daughter and therefore by law she is. He owed you that much after the hell he put you through. And it's not as though Emily were a boy and there were a question of a title or property entailed on the heir."

  "There's no question in any case. Jared left us nothing."

  Dolly looked shocked to the soles of her blue kid half-boots. "Nothing?"

  Caroline wished she could recall her words. She had no wish to rouse Dolly's pity. "It's no surprise. You know how we lived."

  "It's outrageous." Dolly made a large gesture that encompassed Jared's past folly and Caroline's present poverty.

  "I'm not wholly destitute," Caroline said. "And I'll have a widow's pension."

  Dolly shuddered. She knew that the pension for a lieutenant's widow would barely keep her in hats.

  "I'll be all right," Caroline insisted. Jared had left her with a little money in Lisbon, some of which she had used to pay the guide to take her to Acquera. Granby's solicitor had told her she was entitled to an allowance for both herself and for Emily and that she would be paid the value of Jared's commission as well. But Jared's commission had been bought by his father and perhaps should be returned to him, and her own pension might stop when she married Adam. "I really don't want to talk about it," she said when Dolly showed signs of wanting to pursue the conversation.

  "Of course, love. I'm sorry, I do go on so." But the gleam in her dark eyes told Caroline that Dolly had every intention of continuing to interfere. She might have said more but the door opened suddenly to reveal John, the Wellstones' mansevant, and behind him Lord Sheriton.

  Dolly gave a squeal of delight. "Sherry, how lovely to see you." She picked up her reticule and turned to Caroline. "I really must go. Don't come down with me, your man will see me out." She embraced Caroline and whispered, "Caro, do be sensible." On these words she left the room, leaving behind a sense of unfilled space.

  Wondering whether Dolly referred to Talbot's revelations or Sherry's arrival, Caroline asked her new visitor to sit down and for a few minutes they spoke about the dinner at Granby House. Caroline held up her end of the conversation with effort. Her mind was filled with things she mustn't talk about— the scene in the salon after Sherry had left the house, her night with Adam, Adam's meeting at the Foreign Office.

  Sherry too seemed distracted. He sat on a hard-backed chair too small for his large frame, his hands locked between his legs, his eyes fixed on her in an intent gaze. "I've come at a bad time," he said.

  "No, no." Caroline spoke out of politeness. She liked Sherry's company, but she wished he would go away. "It's only that I'm a little tired," she added, hoping that this statement would be enough to make him do so.

  Sherry unclasped his hands and placed them on his thighs, as though he was going to rise, but he did not do so. Instead he leaned forward, all traces of good humor wiped from his face. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well. But there's something I've got to say or I'll burst. You need taking care of, Caroline. I wish you would let me do it. I want you to be my wife."

  Caroline's breath caught in her throat. "A declaration?" she said, trying to make the moment light.

  "It's too early, isn't it? I knew it would be, or I would have spoken the day I met you on the Sea Horse. I've been in love with you forever."

  "Sherry, don't. You mustn't. I can't." Caroline was startled by the obvious strength of his feelings. Then she saw the hurt look in his eyes and knew she owed him the truth. "I can't marry you, Sherry. I'm going to marry Adam Durward."

  Sherry stared at her in astonishment. Whatever excuse he had expected from her, she could see he had not expected this. "You'll think me the greatest fool," he said, jumping to his feet as though the little chair could not contain him. "I hadn't realized..."

  Caroline wanted to be kind. "I've known Adam nearly all my life."

  "Yes. Yes, of course. I hope you'll be very happy." He took a turn or two about the room and came to rest standing before her.

  Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then Caroline said, "Sherry, there's something you should know." She didn't want to tell him about Emily, but Talbot was Sherry's friend and Talbot had malice enough to spread the story about, no matter what Dolly said. If Sherry had to hear it, he should hear it from her.

  "It's about Emily," Caroline continued. "She's not Jared's daughter."

  "Not—" Sherry colored. "Oh. I see." He sat down abruptly. "You didn't have to tell me that."

  "Talbot knew. He told the family last night, after you'd left. He wanted them to know how matters stood. He particularly wanted Lord Anandale to know."

  Sherry looked more shocked than she had ever seen him. Then his hands clenched and a red flush suffused his face. "I wouldn't have believed it of Talbot. That's not the act of a gentleman."

  Caroline could have laughed. If Sherry only knew what kind of a man Talbot was. If he only knew what Talbot had tried to do to her in Spain.

  "Does Durward know?" Sherry asked.

  "He does. It makes no difference."

  "It would have made no difference to me."

  Caroline felt a great wave of warmth for the man who sat opposite her. "Thank you, Sherry."

  "It was no one's business but your own."

&n
bsp; "It was Jared's too. He knew and he accepted her."

  "Jared knew he'd treated you badly. He may not always have shown it, but he had great affection for you. But Talbot." Sherry pounded one hand against the other. "I'm damned if I know why he wanted to speak ill of you. Forgive my language, Caroline, but it makes me so angry. I'm sorry we ever listened to him about the damn foundry."

  Caroline pushed aside the welter of feelings Sherry's visit had aroused. She still needed to learn more about Talbot. "How did that come about?" she asked. "How did Talbot ever think of a foundry, let alone find that man Bell?"

  "I don't think it was Talbot's idea to begin with."

  Caroline started. If not Talbot, who else had been involved? "Go on."

  Sherry was calm now, trying to recall the past. "Do you remember Silbury?"

  "I'm not sure. The name sounds familiar."

  "Eldest son of Lord Camden. I knew him slightly, but his passion was cards. And though I was foolish enough in those days, I wasn't going down that road. But he and Talbot were thick as three in a bed. I think it was Silbury who told Talbot about Bell. Talbot leaped at the idea. He'd leap at anything that smelled of money. I ran into them one night at the club and heard them talking about it. Excited as a couple of pigs with a trough of swill." A sudden furrow appeared between Sherry's eyes. "I always expected Silbury to come into it too. He had enough of the ready. I don't know why he didn't."

  Caroline felt a frisson of excitement. "Where is Silbury now?"

  Sherry frowned. "America, I think. His father has some relatives there. I think Silbury's gambling got out of hand—cheating or something like that—and his father wanted him out of the country."

  Silbury. Silbury. He might be the key to the whole story of Talbot's involvement with the foundry. There'd been nothing about him in Jared's papers that they'd seen so far. Jared might have talked of him, but he'd talked of so many people and she hadn't always listened. But there was her journal. She might have noted it in her journal. Caroline smiled at Sherry and in a few minutes brought their interview to a close. As he said goodbye he held her hand tightly. "Caroline, you know how I feel about you. If you ever need a friend..."

  "Thank you, Sherry." She urged him toward the door and saw him go down the stairs. Then she ran up to her bedchamber and looked at the pile of books stacked in a corner of the room. Her journals. She'd been keeping them since she was thirteen. How far back should she go? Jared's fraud had been discovered in 1808. Two years at least before that. She picked up her journals for 1806 and 1807 and settled on the bed.

  An hour later she had relived two years of a life she had almost forgot and she had found two references to Viscount Silbury. In June of 1806 Jared had gone out for the evening with Talbot and Lord Camden's son, Silbury. In October of that year Caroline had gone looking for her husband at a reception and found him in the cardroom. He was losing money, as usual, but Talbot was losing even more. The winner that evening was Lord Silbury. Caroline had noted it in her journal because Talbot had been so very angry and upset.

  If Talbot had been in debt to Silbury, he would have been eager for any chance to make money. If Silbury was anxious to be paid, he might seek a way to use Talbot's position in the Ordnance Office. Perhaps...

  Caroline's reflections were interrupted by a light scratching at the door. It was Elena, looking distressed and uncertain. Caroline, remembering how Elena had spoken the night before, was sure it had something to do with Hawkins. Ashamed that her preoccupation with her own problems had caused her to forget all about the other woman, Caroline set down her journals quickly and asked Elena to join her on the bed, then leaned back against the pillows and waited for her to speak.

  Elena did not seem sure how to began. She looked down at her lap, twisting her hands together. They were beautiful hands, well-shaped with long oval nails, ornamented only by a gold ring that had been given her by her husband. The small gold circle was a symbol of respectability, like Caroline's own wedding band which she had not put on again after leaving Adam's bed the night before.

  The sun coming through the window made a bright streak of gold on Elena's hair. She lifted her chin and looked at Caroline. "I am in what I think you call a dilemma."

  "I'm sorry. Can I help?"

  Elena threw her arms wide in an expansive gesture. "Can anyone help? I do not know. Listen to me, Caroline, perhaps that will be enough." She sighed and leaned back against the bedpost. "I think I may be with child."

  Caroline was startled, though she knew it was no cause for wonder. She pushed herself across the bed and clasped Elena's hand.

  Elena turned and looked into Caroline's eyes. "I am careful, you understand, but that night when you came back to Lisbon I was so happy to see my Hawkins I did not think about anything but lying in his arms."

  "Of course." It had been much the same with Caroline, though it had been danger and fear that had driven her into Adam's arms after her near drowning in the Carrión. "Have you told him?"

  "How can I?"

  Caroline drew back. "But he wants children. He told me so himself. I think he wants to marry you."

  Elena looked at her a long moment, her deep blue eyes inexpressibly sad. "Not any more. When we were in Lisbon, he was ardent and eager. He frightened me. I don't want to lose another husband. But now he is as cold as the cucumbers. He will not push me, he says. He knows I am not ready. What he means is that he is no longer ready."

  "I don't believe that. Elena, you share his bed."

  Elena gave her a long look. "You are not stupid, Caroline. You know that means nothing." She sighed and turned away. "One is hungry, one eats. But that does not tell you how to live. That does not make the problems go away."

  No, it did not. Caroline knew that all too well. For all her hunger for Adam and his for her, it had taken Emily to bring them together. They knew all each other's weaknesses. Still, they had made the compromises that they must. Elena must do so as well. "Can you go back to Galicia?" Caroline asked.

  Elena gave a wry smile. "If any of my family are still alive, they will not welcome me. They did not like my choice of husband. He fought with the French, and they supported the guerrilleros." She turned suddenly toward Caroline with a look of utter despair. "What am I to do? I have no money. I live only by the charity of Adam and Hawkins. I cannot impose on Mrs. Wellstone forever. I would ask her to help me find work, but how can I work when I have a child?"

  "You must tell Hawkins," Caroline said. "No, listen to me, Elena. It's not fair for you to keep it from him. You must tell him and you must marry him, for your child's sake."

  "No. That is easy for you to say, but I cannot do it."

  "You can. I thought I could not, but I am going to. I'm going to marry Adam. I'm going to marry him because Emily needs a father." Caroline looked down at her lap and carefully unclenched her hands. "Emily is Adam's child," she said softly. Even now it was hard to admit it.

  Elena gave a gasp of surprise. "My dear Caroline."

  "I didn't tell him, not till we were on the ship, and then only because it slipped out without my meaning to." Caroline raised her eyes and met the other woman's gaze. "He was furious. He said I didn't think him fit to be a father. That I didn't think him fit to be a husband." Caroline lowered her eyes.

  "It was a stupid quarrel," Elena said. "But he will get over it. He loves you. Any fool can see that."

  "Perhaps. Perhaps love is not enough. There was more, Elena, than what passed between us on the Sea Horse. Much more. Adam and I have hurt each other badly through the years. Emily was conceived in a moment of great bitterness. Even now, neither of us can completely forget."

  "Yet you marry anyway."

  Caroline smiled. "We marry anyway. We take what is good between us and try to ignore the rest." She looked at Elena. "The one thing I have wanted to do with my life is to protect Emily. Jared knew she was not his, but he accepted her. I didn't want her to grow up having the world proclaim her a bastard. My cousin Talbot knew the truth,
though thank God he does not know who her father is. Last night he told Jared's family that Emily is not Jared's child and in those few words wiped away all that I had done to protect her. I had hurt Adam once more, and it was all for nothing. Nothing."

  The last word came out as a sob. Elena reached for Caroline and pulled her into her arms. "So we are two of a kind."

  Caroline, her face muffled against Elena's shoulder, managed to nod. "So," Elena said. "I must tell my pigheaded Hawkins, and if he wants me I must marry him, and once more I will have a husband who leaves me to go into danger. Oh, Caroline, God must be very angry with women. He plays dice with us, and I think perhaps He laughs."

  The two women clung to each other for a long time. When they pulled apart, they were both laughing, though their faces were wet with tears. "If you marry Adam," Elena said, "and I marry Hawkins, then I think we will be alone together."

  Caroline smiled. "And Emily will have a little brother or sister."

  It was nearly four when Adam returned home. He would have to wait now and hope his words to Talbot took root. With luck, Talbot would think Adam had proof against him. And with more luck, Talbot would make a mistake.

  If he did not, Adam was at an impasse. The founder Bell was out of the country and unreachable. The men who had worked for him knew nothing. Leighton would not talk. But that afternoon, in that instant when his eyes met Talbot's, Adam had known that Talbot had something to hide.

  The future might hold danger, but it was not entirely bleak. Caroline, wonder of wonders, was going to be his wife. True, she had accepted him for Emily's sake, but he had stopped expecting more. And Emily had begun to accept him as well. Smiling at the memory of his daughter's face, Adam pushed open the door and walked directly to the back parlor where he expected to find his aunt. He found Caroline instead. She sprang to her feet at his entrance, at once worried and relieved. "You're back."

  Adam smiled. "Did you think I wouldn't be?"

  "I think I pictured you in Newgate."

  "You've never seen Newgate. And that's not a prison where a man suspected of treason would be confined." Adam crossed to her side, took her in his arms, and kissed her, still not able to believe he had the right to do so. "There are no charges yet, Caro. Nothing happened."