He pulled out a handkerchief and blew into it. “That might fit in with what I heard.”
“Oh?”
“Sure. Someone who knew the family, knew they might have property like that.” He put the linen away.
“Who?”
Martin’s gaze raked Gawain’s face. “I wouldn’t like to say, not with you newly married to the girl.”
Now what? Gawain set down his tankard. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“You can check with your wife,” Martin said. “Ask her who she might have told about these royal gems.”
Ann was no gossip. What was Martin implying? “Why would she have told anyone?”
Martin coughed again. “You know, pillow talk. The things a girl might say to imply she has a dowry.”
Gawain’s blood ran cold. He flattened his hand on the bar. “What are you saying?”
Martin sighed. “Given that you’re a man with sisters, you know how the girls do make mistakes. Word is that your wife was a bit free with her favors back in the day.”
“Are you saying she was a whore?” Gawain started to move off his seat, but a sharp pain bit into his hip. He stiffened.
“No, no.” Martin put a hand on his elbow, anchoring him in place. “I’m just saying she took her time choosing a husband, didn’t marry the first man in her life. Or so they say. The Indians, you know, don’t see things the same way we English do.”
“She is English.” He twisted, trying to relieve pressure on his hip.
“Born in India. Her mother raised her. Not just Indian but royal too. Royals don’t think like us any more than Indians do.”
Gawain grabbed for the edge of the bar and hoisted himself more securely on his seat. If he hadn’t covered his bad eye with the patch, he’d have blamed it for the flashing red dots around his vision. Surely none of this could be true, though Martin made a bold point. Ann’s actions often surprised him.
“I see,” he managed to say, after a long pause. “So you think Ann had a lover who killed Haldene for the gems.”
“Perhaps.”
“Two years after she married him?” That made no sense.
Martin shrugged and reached for his tankard. Gawain’s gaze caught the missing fingers and remembered this man was a brother of the sword. He wouldn’t lie, had no reason to. Gossip was one thing, but usually there was truth in gossip.
“Did the gossip say she’d kept a man on the side after her marriage?”
“Don’t know about that. I’m just saying that there’s tales of royal gems, so someone mentioned them over the years. Yet no one stole from the girl’s mother.”
“So the maharani is the one who passed around the stories. Or someone she told.”
“Right-o. Except she died long ago, well before the murder.” Martin drained his tankard. “I need to get back home. The wife will have tea waiting for me.”
Gawain wanted to shake the man, but he’d gotten what he came for and more. “Thank you for coming all the way down here. Use that money for your expenses too.”
Martin shook his head. “Always happy to help. You going to come back with that sketch tomorrow?”
“I’ll have to send someone,” Gawain said. “From the Manor.”
Martin held out his hand. After a moment, Gawain shook it.
“Don’t be too hard on your wife,” Martin said. “Let bygones be bygones.”
Gawain laughed harshly. “But what if she does it again?”
Martin rubbed his nose. “She’s lucky to have you. A smart girl won’t ruin what she has.”
“I hope you are right,” Gawain said. “I had better get back too. Send word to the Manor, or Hatbrook Farm, if Bliven is spotted.”
“Will do.”
They walked out together. Gawain mounted his horse and Martin gave him a salute, then set out on foot for the railway station.
Gawain made it back to the Manor in a red haze, not seeing any green fields or early wildflowers this time. The scent of spring might have been cold ashes in his nostrils. Ann may have been playing a model wife, but she’d been no modest woman. What they’d done had been nothing special or even unusual for her, apparently.
“It will be so much fun for the children to play together in a couple of years,” Lady Hatbrook told Ann as she settled Noel into a fancy crib by the fire in the nursery. “The time passes so quickly. I can’t believe Mary Ellen is almost a year old.”
“She’s a very pretty girl.” Ann straightened and then smiled at the copper curls of the baby in her sister-in-law’s arms.
Lady Hatbrook made a face. “I wish she hadn’t inherited the red hair, but the color does seem softer than mine.”
“It’s beautiful,” Ann assured her.
“She seems to have Michael’s eyes,” Lady Hatbrook continued. “And those quirky lips of his. I’m already seeing Beth in her expressions.”
Ann had never had the opportunity to learn about Gawain’s lost love. “Were you very close?”
“She was a sweet girl, but I don’t think anyone knew her well. We had no idea she planned to run off.”
“Secretive?”
“You’d never have guessed a thing.” Lady Hatbrook’s own eyes, the color of deep-brewed tea, stared into the fire. “But it seems some mysteries are not meant to be solved.”
Ann nodded. Like her first husband’s death.
“Did you have time to settle in your new house before coming down here?” Lady Hatbrook asked, changing the subject.
“Not really,” Ann admitted. “But Gawain was very worried about Matilda and Jacob.” She glanced down at the rug, where Jacob was chewing placidly on a wooden train engine. Jenna was keeping an eye on him from the corner, where she was mending a blanket.
“I don’t understand it myself. Gawain has offered him money to start over in India. What could be better for him?”
“I think he’s afraid to go back and die there, given the severe illnesses he had. I wish I had gotten a look at him. I might have been able to help.”
“That’s right, you are a healer. How is Gawain doing?” Lady Hatbrook asked calmly.
“His limp is much better. No cane needed anymore. And he has regained a little vision.”
“I hope this progress has sweetened his disposition. He was such a charmer when we were young.”
Ann smiled. “He still has charm.”
Color rose in Lady Hatbrook’s cheeks. “I meant in general. He had a sunny spirit once. Clearly he hasn’t lost his charisma, to be so successful with his businesses. His astounding results haven’t been because he loves numbers.”
“He loves his products, all of the Indian goods.”
“That I know. He persuaded me to stock some of them at the bakery. And he was right, they sell well.”
“We are both fortunate to have husbands who can easily provide for our families.”
“True.”
“But we are both women who thrive outside the domestic sphere,” Ann said carefully.
“That is also true. But I had my moments of battle with the marquess.” Lady Hatbrook stared into the fire.
“I didn’t know that.”
Lady Hatbrook nodded. “It was early on in our marriage. The conflicts could have destroyed our happiness.”
“Any advice for me?”
Mary Ellen stirred and rubbed her nose. Lady Hatbrook lifted her and tucked the girl’s small face against her shoulder. “You need to show my brother the real you. Happiness isn’t going to survive in an atmosphere of polite accommodation. If there is some work you must do to be happy, you need to do it. In this modern age, a woman’s sphere can’t be tied only to her home.”
“There’s a great deal to do in a home with children,” Ann said doubtfully. “I was used to cooking and managing servants and using my Ayurvedic skills, but add a baby to that? I didn’t have brothers or sisters or nieces or nephews. I had no idea of the work involved.”
“You are in the fortunate position of having help to light
en the load,” Lady Hatbrook said, with a nod in Jenna’s direction. “And it will be much easier once you’ve weaned Noel.”
“I’m not getting much sleep,” Ann admitted.
“Why don’t you take a nap now? He’s sleeping.”
“I should,” Ann said with surprise. As a guest in someone’s home, much of the burden of domesticity was gone. She really didn’t have anything she must do.
Shouts came from the courtyard outside the house. Jenna set her mending aside and took Mary Ellen from Lady Hatbrook, who rushed to the window. Ann followed, hoping the noise wouldn’t wake the babies.
“Bliven,” her hostess muttered, pointing at the slight man holding his finger in front of a groom’s nose. He stomped up the steps to the house and disappeared under the portico.
“His color is bad,” Ann observed.
“He was angry.” Lady Hatbrook’s gaze went to Jacob. “I hope he doesn’t have a weapon.”
Ann realized the risk. She lifted her skirts and ran to the nursery door. “Is there a key?”
“I don’t know. This isn’t my house.” Lady Hatbrook stood.
Ann took a chair and put it under the doorknob while Lady Hatbrook did the same with the door that connected into the servants’ bedroom. Jenna dropped the blanket and picked up Jacob.
“Where is your sister?” Ann asked.
“In Father’s study, I imagine. Going over accounts. They’re sure to be able to lock themselves in.”
“Is anyone in the house armed?”
“I don’t know.”
“It seems likely he would come with henchmen if he was going to storm the house by force.”
Lady Hatbrook nodded. “I am certain you are correct. He must know no one in this household is going to give up a child to him.”
In Jenna’s arms, Jacob yawned.
“Time for his nap?” Lady Hatbrook asked.
“Yes. I’ll tuck him in and stay close,” Jenna said.
By the time Jacob was settled down, Noel was awake. Ann fed him, muscles tensed for the sounds of shouting or violence down below. But they were on the second floor of a large, well-constructed house and were unlikely to hear anything that went on at the ground floor level.
Lady Hatbrook sat in the window seat, watching the courtyard for signs of activity. After about an hour she gestured Ann to the window. Ann set Noel back in the crib and joined her sister-in-law.
“That’s your father?” Ann thought so, but she had only met him once.
“Yes, with Theodore Bliven.”
The large, portly figure with a messy shock of faded red hair walked beside the slighter Bliven. Sir Bartley gestured toward a groom. It looked as though every man on the property stood nearby, waiting for a sign. The man disappeared around the corner, presumably moving toward the stable block.
“Looks like he’s leaving,” Ann observed.
The second man turned and glanced up to the window. Lady Hatbrook frowned. “That isn’t Bliven. It’s one of the local medical men.”
A sharp rap sounded on the nursery door. Both women turned.
“Do you want me to answer it, my lady?” Jenna asked.
“No.” Lady Hatbrook stood and straightened her skirt, then marched to the door. “Not while Bliven is unaccounted for. Who is it?” she called.
“Pounds, my lady. Mrs. Redcake is required in the library.”
“I wonder if Mr. Bliven has taken ill,” Ann said. “But I don’t have any supplies with me.”
“There must be some advice you can offer, but don’t take him back to your home with you,” Lady Hatbrook said. “At the very most, have them put him up in some hotel. I’d hate to think of him stealing away with Noel.”
“Right,” Ann said. She bent over Noel and kissed his forehead, hesitating.
“I’ll stay here,” Lady Hatbrook assured her. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“Thank you.” Ann forced a smile then pulled the chair from the door and opened it to find the butler.
“This way, ma’am,” he said.
She waited until she heard the scrape of the chair being moved against the inside of the door, then followed him down two flights of stairs, to a corridor that led to the east wing of the H-shaped house. “Is Mr. Bliven injured or ill?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Ann frowned. “Then why was I summoned away from my child?”
Before Pounds could answer, a footman opened the library door and gestured. Ann stepped inside.
No one was in the book-lined, square-shaped room except her husband, at the fireplace in the center of one wall. He turned as the door closed behind her.
She had never seen such anger in his face. His brows were knit tightly together and the bridge of his nose was white with tension. She moved toward him, hand outstretched. “What did Mr. Bliven say?”
“I could care less about Bliven. It is your behavior that concerns me.”
Her hand dropped to her chest. “Me? I’ve been waiting in the nursery, worried that your sister and I would have to defend the children to our deaths.”
“Do you know what the rumor is about Wells’s death?” he rasped.
Ann put her fingers to her forehead, where a dull headache had begun to thrum. “What does Wells have to do with Mr. Bliven?”
“I went to see an old comrade about Bliven. To have an eye kept out in the district for him. And he told me about you.” A sneer she’d never seen before marred his face.
“Me?” She felt like she was swimming upstream against a fast current.
“You. Your lovers. Why Wells died.”
“Lovers?” She put her hand against her stomach. What had he heard?
“Yes. Wells wasn’t the only one.”
She’d been married. He knew she hadn’t been a virgin. “Wells was my husband. I was never with him before our wedding night. You are the only man I’ve been with since he died.”
“And before?”
“Before what?” she queried, stalling. But he knew.
Gawain’s smile glittered indecently. “Before that first wedding night.”
Her knees weakened. She dropped into a gilt chair at one side of the fireplace. “What would that have to do with Wells?”
“You had a lover who you told about your mother’s royal gems.”
She shook her head. “I did not tell anyone about them. Until Wells.”
“So the rumors are untrue?”
“About some lover of mine killing Wells? Yes, of course.” She left the details unsaid.
“How many lovers, Ann?” His nostrils flared.
She lifted her chin. “One, Gawain. One man, who I thought loved me, thought would marry me. But he left to marry a white woman his family approved of, unlike me.”
Gawain pressed the fingers of one hand against his forehead. “You didn’t use the gems to entice him?”
“There was no point. He had money. At least his family did. They’d have cut off his allowance if he’d chosen me over their own choice.” He’d broken her heart and it had taken Wells to restore her faith in men.
“A gem that is the price of an inn is a good dowry, especially when more might be forthcoming.”
“An inn would not entice a man like him. His family owned a shipyard.”
The tips of Gawain’s fingers were white with pressure. “So you tried to marry up and found yourself shackled to a mere soldier like your father.”
She could smell the stable on him, and ale, sweat. Soldier’s smells. “I loved Wells.” She blinked, feeling the dampness of tears. “How can you think for a moment that I didn’t?”
“I don’t know what to believe about you anymore. I should have known that a woman who was intimate with me would have done the same with other men.”
Like he was so pure? He knew more than she did. He made her body sing. “Three men in seven years. Am I such a terrible person?”
“You aren’t as English as you think,” he growled.
Her head snap
ped back as if he’d slapped her. Not English? “How dare you! Your own sister made the same mistake as me!”
Gawain waved his free arm. “And see how she never stops paying for it? Why should you be any different?”
“Because you’re my husband now. You are supposed to protect me, not be my accuser.”
He folded his arms across his broad chest, effectively distancing her. “I am merely repeating what I’ve been told.”
She raised her hands, shook them. “That I’m little more than a whore. Oh, excuse me. A whore with royal gems.” What had she done with her life? “I thought you might learn to love me, but now I see that you are looking for any excuse to hate me.”
His gazed bored into her, like a woodpecker destroying a tree. “I would not like to think I could ever hate the mother of my son.”
“At least you don’t doubt he’s yours.” Her lips trembled. “My foolish act brought us Noel. But I assure you, it was only one foolish act. I don’t regret the passion we experienced. We must be meant to be together.”
“And your first lover? You were meant to be with him too.”
Ann knew his voice had gone dangerously soft. “I loved him at the time. I love with my entire heart and body, Gawain. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“When will you stop loving me and love another?”
“Not as long as we are wed.” She met him, forcing defiance, then realized the impact of what she had said, the thought it might give him. He wouldn’t consider divorce?
She might not have been chaste, but she had never been an adulteress.
“Take a tray in the nursery,” he told her. “I don’t want to see you again tonight. I will speak to you in the morning. I’m too angry to think.”
“What about Theodore Bliven? Why was a doctor here? Is your sister safe?”
“That is not your concern.”
How could he say that so calmly? “It is. Lady Hatbrook suggested that Mr. Bliven might kidnap Noel in order to get Jacob.”
“Jacob without Matilda doesn’t do him much good. He’ll be on a boat to India in a couple of days, so you do not need to trouble yourself further.”
As if her question had reminded him, he turned away slightly and pulled his patch back over his eye. She stepped toward him and put her hand on his shoulder, but he flinched. Her hand dropped.
His Wicked Smile Page 18