by Janet Woods
“You can’t!” he exclaimed moving to her side. “I absolutely forbid it, Angelina. It will cause a scandal.”
“Would you leave our brother totally defenceless?”
“This is neither the time nor place to indulge in a battle of wits.” He had never felt such anger. “I’m surprised you’d consider such a foolish notion when two peers of the realm have already sworn to his guilt. You’re a women, and your testimony, which I might add is based on intuition, will cause derision to fall upon your head, and embarrass the entire family.”
Her eyes flashed with scornful light. “It’s my head, and I do not give a tinker’s cuss for anyone’s embarrassment when Frey’s life is at stake.”
“Listen to your brother, Angelina.” Frey’s face was troubled. “I’m grateful for your concern, but you embark on a futile exercise doomed to failure. Such an action will alienate you from your family, and you’ll gain notoriety, something that will haunt you throughout your life.”
“I do not care,” she said stubbornly.
“I do!” Pushing her hand aside, Frey rose to his feet. “You seem to imagine you and I have a special relationship. You’re wrong. None of the Wrey family mean anything to me. I do not welcome, nor want your interference.”
“Frey,” she whispered, her voice so crushed and broken it brought a lump to James’ throat. “You cannot mean that, you saved my life.”
“The life of a rabbit would have deserved as much consideration,” he said stonily. “Take her from my sight, My Lord. I have no desire to see her again.”
“Frey...”
“Leave me in peace!” he shouted, and James could see how hard he fought to keep from breaking down.
“I’ll pray for you.” She glanced back as Frey sank on to the barrel and buried his face in his hands. “You didn’t mean what you just said, Frey. Tell me you didn’t mean it.”
“He couldn’t have made it clearer,” James said. “Go to Celine, I’ll join you in a little while.” Understanding what Frey was going through at that moment, James made his voice unnecessarily harsh as he pushed her towards the door. He watched her stumble away before he turned back to Frey. The despair in the youth’s face was terrible to behold. It was as if he hadn’t a friend in the world now Angelina was gone.
Frey gazed at him, misery in his eyes. “You understand, I had no other choice. Later... after I’m gone, you will perhaps tell her of my affection for her.”
“You’re a brave man, Frey.” James held out his hand. “If there’s anything I can do I will.”
“Just believe, as Angelina does, that I’m unjustly accused.”
Until then, James had not considered Frey other than guilty. Swiftly, he weighed up the evidence in his mind.
Neither of the witnesses had seen the highwayman unmasked and Frey’s account of the horse being rescued from the bog was plausible. He wondered if he’d misjudged him. Angelina’s belief of Frey’s innocence was emotionally based, but she’d said there was something she couldn’t recall.
He shook his head. If it hadn’t been for the snuffbox and cameo brooch discovered in the lining of the coat - a coat which Frey’s own mother had sworn was amongst a bundle of discarded clothing from Wrey house - the evidence would be circumstantial.
Nicholas Snelling had said the highwayman was wearing a voluminous cloak that day! That tipped the scales in Frey’s favour as far as James was concerned. No cloak had been found.
No other stolen items had been found at the cottage. The small cache of coins concealed behind a loose brick were of insignificant value, and had been accounted for by Mary Mellor as her life savings. He’d thought it a small sum for Mary’s years of service, but knowing his father’s leaning towards parsimony, he’d not been surprised.
He dismissed the servant and seated himself on a stool opposite Frey. “Tell me what you were doing in the forest that night.”
“Checking the rabbit traps.”
As a memory of Rafe throwing a brace of rabbits into the undergrowth came to mind, James smiled encouragingly at Frey. “I’d like to hear your version of what occurred that night.”
Hope flared in Frey’s eyes, then just as quickly died a painful death. “What’s the use? You’ll side with the rest of them, whatever I say.”
“Don’t presume to know what I’ll do,” he said, and sharply enough to jolt his bastard brother from self-pity. “May I remind you your life is at stake. If I think an injustice has been done I’ll do my utmost to right that wrong.”
“You’d oppose the will of the earl?” Frey gave him an unbelieving look.
“Believe it or not, the earl is a fair and rational man. If he’s convinced of your innocence he’ll not stand by and watch you die.”
“And if he’s not convinced, but you are?
He gave a faint smile, and shrugged. “No doubt I’ll endear myself greatly to Angelina if I spit in the face of convention and take up your cause.” His eyes engaged Frey’s, taking his measure. He liked the way the youth met his gaze squarely. “You greatly resemble our father in appearance. I hope you do not prove to be as proud.”
“I’ve never been given reason to feel pride in my parentage.” Despite his heated tone Frey gave a gentle self-deprecating chuckle that endeared itself immediately to James. “You’re not like William, Viscount Romsey, nor do you favour the earl.”
“Now you’ve reached that conclusion, perhaps we can apply our minds to the business at hand,” he said dryly. “Now, tell me from the beginning. What were your movements on the evening you were apprehended?”
Chapter Fifteen
Elizabeth was pensive as the carriage bore her towards the cottage of Mary Mellor. She’d intended to confront her husband about Rosabelle’s parentage, but he’d confined himself to his study, leaving strict orders he could not be disturbed by anyone except James.
The possibility of Thomas admitting culpability in the affair was remote, unless she had proof. The only person who could provide her with it was Mary Mellor.
She had thought to approach James. Alexandra Pakenham had been party to the affair, and he would have been made fully aware of the situation. Deception would be distasteful to James, but even if given a choice, he would be bound by his duty to his father.
The thought of seeing Mary was upsetting. But Mary would be vulnerable now, and she was counting on the fact she would be angry enough about her son’s treatment to disclose the information she sought.
Since her dream she’d observed Rosabelle, and was certain the girl was not her daughter. They were nothing alike, and except for her dark eyes and hair she bore no resemblance to Thomas, either. Aware of the ramifications if her suspicions proved correct, she harboured niggling doubts, for if word got out there would be no marriage for Rosabelle. In addition, both she and her husband would be branded cheats and liars. If need be, Elizabeth decided she’d pay heavily for Mary’s silence.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves when the carriage drew to a halt in front of the cottage. Alighting from the carriage she smoothed her skirt, then instructing her maid to wait, motioned to the driver to disperse the several curious villagers who’d followed after her carriage.
Mary’s eyes were red from crying when she opened the door. She didn’t seem surprised to see her, and standing to one side, bobbed a curtsy when Elizabeth entered. “My Lady.”
The cottage was clean, but poorly furnished. Mary wore a patched and faded gown. Amusement flitted through her mind. Thomas might confer his favours on this woman, but she didn’t live a life of comfort.
In fact, Mary was not the rival Elizabeth had imagined her to be. Her looks had faded and her skin had grown coarse over the years. Thomas had merely used her, and Elizabeth experienced an unexpected twinge of sympathy for her.
“If you’ve come to gloat about Frey,” Mary said, “Say your piece. I daresay you think I deserve it.”
Elizabeth seated herself on a wooden chair by the table.”I find no room in my heart to gl
oat over another’s misfortune.” This was no place to indulge in social niceties, so she gave Mary a level glance and came to the point. “I’m seeking information about the birth of Lady Rosabelle. I think you’re in possession of certain facts that may assist me.”
Mary’s breath hissed in her throat and she took a few steps backwards. “I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered.
“You know exactly what I mean. Rosabelle is not my child, is she?”
“I know nothing about it,” Mary whined, her eyes darting about the room as if she sought escape. “If the earl found out I said anything...?”
“Do you think he’ll remain in ignorance of this visit for long?” Elizabeth gave a light laugh. “I intend to tell him once he’s finished wrestling with his conscience over Frey. His anger will be great when he finds out I’ve been here.”
Throwing her apron over her face Mary rocked back and forth on her heels. “I’ll be thrown out of the cottage,” she wailed. “They be taking my boy to London in a day or two and I won’t have any money to help him.”
The anguish in her voice touched Elizabeth. This, she could understand. Rising to her feet she placed a hand on the woman’s arm. “In exchange for the truth I’ll give you a purse of gold coins. In addition, in return for your silence I’ll make sure your son is helped. Viscount Romsey is interested in defending him, and I have no quarrel with your son, Mary.”
“I brought my boy up to be honest, he aint guilty of no highway robbery.” Throwing down her apron Mary brought her hands on her hips. “If you ask me, this lie is one of Master William’s plots. That boy always hated Frey.”
Elizabeth refused to be diverted from her mission. “Be that as it may, I’m not here to discuss Frey’s plight, or your past relationship with my husband. I’m here to discover the truth about Rosabelle. I’ve made you a generous offer. Just bear in mind, once the earl discovers my visit, he’ll have no choice but to throw you out.”
A sly smile crossed Mary’s face. “What’s to stop me demanding more from the
earl for my silence about Rosabelle?”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed cruelly as she gazed at her. Very softly, she suggested. “The earl might decide on a cheaper method of ensuring your silence.”
Mary blanched. “Aint you afeared of what you be doing, Lady Elizabeth? The earl has a mighty temper on him, at times.”
She allowed herself a small smile at the thought of Thomas losing his temper with her. In nineteen years of marriage he’d never done so. But then, she mused, up until now she had never given him cause. She discovered that she didn’t care. “I have one to equal it if the occasion demands.”
“I knows the earl loves you true, so I daresay he treats you different to me.”
Surprise filled her. “My husband told you that?”
“It’s plain as the nose on my face when he whispers your name - “ Abruptly, she stopped, turning red-faced. “He loves you all right, I can vouch for it.”
Elizabeth sensibilities were not quite as affronted as they should have been by this revelation from the mouth of her husband’s whore, but she was not about to let the woman know it. She threw a purse on the table. “Quickly now, have you made up your mind?”
The tip of pink tongue wet Mary’s lips when she gazed at the purse. When her voice assumed a businesslike tone, Elizabeth knew she’d won. “I’ll inspect the contents please, My Lady.”
Loosening the purse strings, Elizabeth sent a cascade of gold coins across the scarred surface of the table. Eyes gleaming, Mary reached out her hand. Elizabeth stilled her wrist before she could pick up one of the coins.
“First, you’ll tell me the truth, Mary Mellor. After which, you’ll gather your belongings together and my carriage will convey you to the coaching inn. The villagers are gathering outside. I cannot vouch for your safety if they think you no longer enjoy the protection of the earl.”
Respect came into Mary’s eyes. “Will you let Frey know I’ve gone to London, and will stand by him, come what may?”
“I’ll make sure that message is conveyed to him” She released Mary’s wrist, allowing her to scoop the coins into the leather purse. When the purse was safely tied and secured in the pocket of her skirt, Mary smiled at her with a new confidence.
“It was like this, My Lady... “
Neither of them saw the back door of the cottage open a crack, nor the tall figure of William, who stood with his ear pressed against the opening. A few minutes later, William eased it shut and made his way across the back meadow to where his horse was tethered. Soon he was on his way, a disbelieving expression in his eyes.
It had only been by chance he’d seen the Wrey carriage, as he usually by-passed the village. He’d been on his way back from selling his surplus horses at market in the neighbouring county. He’d resisted the urge to dispose of the black stallion, moving it to a secret location in the forest. It was too valuable an addition to the stud stock he intended to ship to America.
Had he stayed longer he’d have seen his stepmother take a burning brand from the stove and throw it into the middle of the bed Mary Mellor had shared with his father.
Two hours later, when Elizabeth arrived back at Wrey house, there was nothing left of the cottage but smoking ashes.
* * * *
Rafe had not expected to see Angelina at Ravenswood. Clad in a black riding habit, her cream silk shirt was a perfect contrast for the gleaming rope of hair streaming down her back.
She’d discarded her jacket and hat and was kneeling, trowel in hand, digging weeds from around the rose bushes. One of the Ravenswood hounds flopped on the ground beside her. Every now and again it gave a blissful sigh as she fondled its ear.
Rafe looked around for Elizabeth, but only saw Angelina’s horse munching at a patch of long grass.
Dismounting, he leaned against a tree trunk and watched her for a while. She was humming as she worked, and stopped now and again to brush away a troublesome insect or address a remark to the dog. Presently, she sat back on her heels and gave a sigh of satisfaction.
“There you are, ladies,” she said. “Though they’ll be back in a little while, those who seek to confine you are gone.” As she cupped a full-blown rose in her hands and drew its scented beauty towards her, Rafe crept quietly up behind her.
“Would you have your nose stung by a bee, fair Angelina,” he whispered in her ear.
The rose sprang from her hand, scattering its petals. She gave a small yelp of surprise and the dog growled at him before recognising him as master and looking sheepish.
A handful of ripe raspberries dropped from her skirt as she rounded on him, a hand pressed to her breast. “La, sir!” she scolded. “How you startled me. Could you not have warned me of your visit? “
He laughed. “Are you saying the master of Ravenswood must warn Angelina Wrey when he visits his own home?”
She took the hands he offered, and rising gracefully to her feet gave him a teasing smile. “I’d quite forgotten you were the master of Ravenswood. You have my permission to visit any time you wish.”
“And you have permission to steal my raspberries any time you wish.” He smiled at the smear of juice across her face, then gazed at her earth-soiled hands, holding them fast when she tried to pull them away. “Your mama would not consider these the hands of a lady.”
“If you are going to bore me with a lecture I shall take my leave of you, Master of Ravenswood.” The glance slanted his way was bright with merriment. “It’s quite tedious to be continually reminded of my faults. That’s why I escaped from Wrey House today.”
Shock replaced the laughter in his eyes. “You came here unaccompanied?”
“James is with me,” she assured him, and gazed around her. “His horse has headed for your vegetable garden, I think.” Observing his relieved expression she chuckled. “What would you have done had I been unchaperoned?”
“Kept you captive.” He gently wiped the red smear from her face with his handkerchie
f, exposing the light gold dusting of freckles. “There,” he said with a smile. “That looks more like my angel. Where is your brother?”
“The last time I saw him he was in your library with his nose firmly stuck between the pages of a book about horse bloodlines.” She screwed up her face. “Now I’ve told you, I suppose you’ll join him.”
“There’s not enough room in one book for the noses of both James and myself.” He raised her dirty hand to his lips. “I shall enjoy your company instead. After I show you the rest of the garden we’ll flush James out and take some refreshment together.”
“What if James looks for me?”
“He deserves a fright for not guarding you carefully enough.”
“Oh, I daresay James would consider me safe enough with you.” Her slanted glance contained curiosity. “But then, he knows you well, so perhaps he would not.”
He chuckled, but would not be drawn as they took a path shaded with sweet smelling wisteria arches. “Perhaps not,” he said agreeably. “But then again, James might not consider me safe with you.”
Her eyes rounded in astonishment. “How do I present danger to anyone.”
He made her the recipient of an amused glance. “Don’t play the innocent with me, Angel. I’ve heard you’ve already broken the hearts of two men.”
“Oh them.” Barely disguised laughter filled her voice. “One has too much to say for himself, the other nothing at all.” Her voice took on the teasing note he knew so well. “Since it’s you who has the reputation of heart-breaker, I’m sure you’ll survive a few short minutes in my company and emerge unscathed.”
“The reputation is totally unjustified.” Leading her towards a walled garden he pushed open a door, standing aside to allow her to enter. “I’ve made it a rule not to trifle with the affections of young ladies, nor lead them to have expectations I cannot fulfil.”
“Yet many at the ball sighed when you approached, and their mamas did likewise.”