by Maggie Dove
Tears of remorse clouded Angelique’s eyes. “Mon Dieu, the things I said to Nicholas … the things I led him to believe. I must speak with him. I need to beg his forgiveness. Madame, if you do not help me, I will never see my husband again. Edgar is going to torture me, and afterwards I am to be killed!”
“No, milady.” The older woman shook her head adamantly, dismissing Angelique’s outburst. “Do not think such things. Edgar has a temper, but he’s no murderer.”
“Oh, but he is! This is precisely what he is planning. They discussed it in front of me, believing I was too drugged to listen. You must …”
“Well, well—what have we here? How cozy. What little secrets were you unveiling? Gertrude, did I hear you mention Clarissa Blake? Get out!” Janie thundered.
Gertrude nearly jumped out of her shoes. Attempting to avoid any confrontation with the maid, she tried to swerve around her, but instead collided right into her, almost knocking the tray Janie was carrying in her arms.
“You clumsy cow! That fool husband of yours will know of this,” Janie threatened, snickering at Gertrude’s painful shriek when she bumped herself against the doorframe in her haste.
After the door closed behind Gertrude, Angelique watched in terror as Janie’s face contorted into something she hardly recognized. “So you want to rush back into his arms, now that you’ve decided to forgive him. Forgive him for what? He did nothing wrong,” she jeered, purposely dropping the tray to the floor. “I guess you don’t eat tonight.”
“Janie, I’m no threat to you,” Angelique said, trying to humor her, hoping to find some semblance of the woman she had come to trust. “Nicholas does not want me. He banished me from Windword Hall the night before I left for London. I’m speaking the truth, Janie. Just ask him. He’ll tell you.”
“Quiet! What made you think I would let you have him? Even when he fancied himself in love with that whore, Clarissa, I loved him.”
Her voice rose to a frenzied pitch as she spurred herself on. “I even loved him when I seduced James and became pregnant by the drunken fool. And we had you thinking it was Nicholas’s child. I must say, I never thought you would believe it with such fervor.”
“Let me go, Janie. You’ll never have to see me again. I promise … I’ll tell no one.” Janie shot her a murderous look. “For months, you’ve begged me for stories of Nicholas. This is the best story of all. I’ll be leaving for Windword in the morning to claim what is mine, and I owe it all to Clarissa!”
Fluttering her eyelashes, Janie mimicked Clarissa’s haughtiness. “Janie, be a dear, get me this, get me that—mindless imbecile! In her inane attempt to rekindle his love and drive him from you, she has delivered Nicholas to me right on a silver platter.”
A burst of childish giggles escaped the maid’s malicious mouth. The abominable sounds made Angelique even more fearful. Janie was completely insane. She would, no doubt, leave her here to be tortured and murdered by Mason. There was no reasoning with her.
“That poor dimwit did more to aid my cause than any other person. And I didn’t have to threaten blackmail. My, but your hair looks a mess. Pity, I do not have the time to comb it. Don’t fret. The top of your head is the last place Edgar will notice when he finally decides to take you.”
The maid’s icy tone caused shivers to run up Angelique’s spine. She swallowed hard, closing her eyes at the thought of Edgar Mason earlier that morning. “Please, Janie, don’t leave me here with him. I’ll do anything you ask!”
Janie laughed deep in her throat, ignoring Angelique’s anguished plea. “Nicholas tried to send Clarissa to her brother, you know, but Lord Chauncy refused to take the whore. My lord had no option but to set her up in London with the condition that she not attend any more balls or any other function until next season. Are you listening?” she snapped furiously, bending down to stare into Angelique’s eyes. “Good, there’s much to tell … much that will surprise you, but first I need to sit. This may take long.”
Humming to herself, Janie grabbed a chair. After adjusting her skirts, she went on, “Now where was I? Oh, yes! He made certain that you would not suffer Clarissa Blake another day by personally delivering her weekly endowments on Tuesday nights on his way to his club. You did not know that, did you?” she asked with an evil smile, taking delight at Angelique’s reaction.
“He threatened that should she bother you or make her presence in London known to you, he would withhold the funds from her. That is why Edgar told you to go and visit the townhouse the following Tuesday. I feared that you would not go, but thanks to dear Clarissa, we did not have to wait long. Like a fish after bait, you were lured there that very night. My lord, Nicholas, did it all for you, yet you thought only the worst of him.”
Recognizing the truth in Janie’s words, Angelique felt as though her heart was breaking. In all her madness, the woman saw clearly when it concerned her. Although Colin’s resemblance to Nicholas was uncanny, she should have known that the Nicholas she had grown to love could never have betrayed his own brother and would not have betrayed her with Clarissa Blake. She should have confronted him outside Clarissa’s townhouse and not judged Nicholas without giving him the chance to explain. Oui, she had thought the worst. Why had she allowed herself to believe such lies?
“I can see you agree with me,” Janie said curtly. “The slut connived a suicide attempt to lure him from the coronation ball. My lord had to rush to her, and after sending for a doctor, stayed with Clarissa half the night in order to make certain she would not die. She took pills … lots of pills.”
“Mon Dieu!”
“Don’t look so horrified. She did not harm herself. Nicholas saved her, but even if my lord had not arrived in time, I’m certain the slut would have died content, knowing she had kept your husband from you on the most glorious night of the century.”
“How do you know all this?” Angelique managed to ask through her tears. “Does Clarissa know I’m here?”
Janie emitted a sickly grunt. “Clarissa knows nothing. Her maid, Lizzie, fancies herself my friend. The silly goose came in very handy. I found out plenty, and my work was cut in half. That dizzy little nitwit is in awe of me, envies my education. Never understood why I resigned my position as governess to return to Windword Hall. I couldn’t very well tell her, I’d rather mop floors than be separated from my Lord Nicholas. I let her believe I wanted to be close to my mother. Poor Bertie … after all her efforts to provide an education for my sister and me—she couldn’t understand it either.”
“Janie, reconsider. If you are caught, you will never see Cook or your sister, Moira, again.”
Janie sneered. “Moira? I haven’t seen her in years. Don’t look so puzzled—it suits me fine. I never once saw her and her filthy brats this past summer. I only pretended to go to her because I needed time to pawn your jewelry and time to plot with Mason.”
Smiling impishly, Janie retrieved Lorraine’s gold locket from her pocket, a locket that had been in the Dussac family for generations. Dangling it before Angelique’s face, she taunted, “I just had to keep this for myself!”
“Keep it. Keep everything. Just let me go.”
“Now, why would I want to do that? Clarissa was never a threat. You are the one he wants. Did you think I enjoyed these last few months? Every morning, serving you breakfast, while having to pick up your most intimate undergarments. Unmentionables tossed about the floor in your haste to join yourself to him the night before? Smelling him on those crumpled sheets warm from your lovemaking, while trying to ignore the imprint of your bodies still on the mattress? I won’t let you near him again. You will die, you French bitch!”
Hiding behind the door, listening to their every word, Gertrude Mason gasped with horror. She finally understood. The ransom was the least of it. This crazed woman was intent on committing murder, and Edgar would do the task. The girl had heard correctly. There was no time to waste! After packing a few items of clothing for herself and Colin, she hastened to the children’s
ward. Seconds later, she kissed her children goodbye, praying they would be able to do without her … if only for a day or two.
Dear Lord, she must not allow herself to think about the children. With frantic haste, she grabbed Colin by the arm, slipped her valise over her shoulders and headed straight for the front door. With Colin clinging to her skirts, she crossed the street, waving down the first carriage that came along.
“Where to?” asked the driver as he opened the door for her.
Peeling Colin from her side, Gertrude nudged the little boy into the carriage. “Take us to the train station, and hurry,” she ordered, panting from exertion.
Chapter Fourteen
Nicholas dismounted his horse and walked toward the edge of the pond. It had been three nights since he had last seen Angelique and one question still puzzled him. How the devil had she found out about his arrangement with Clarissa? Any other night he would have given her an explanation; he would have tried to clarify everything, but three nights ago there had been no explanation. He had refused her the satisfaction of knowing that all he had done, he had done for her.
Last August, no amount of money had been too great to keep his sister-in-law tucked away in her London townhouse … away from Angelique for the remainder of the season.
On any other night, he would have told his wife that on the afternoon of the coronation ball, after receiving a suicide note from Clarissa, he had rushed over to his sister-in-law’s townhouse only to find her lying prostrate on her bed with a stomach full of sleeping pills and an empty bottle of cognac by her side. Having sent for a doctor, he had stayed with her until the wee hours, missing the ball against his own volition.
Nicholas stopped abruptly, and almost turned back to the main house. He did not want to relive what had taken place here just three nights ago. Yet something drew him to the spot where he had last seen Angelique. This is where he had banished her from his life, where he had severed all their ties forever. In this place, and only in this place, could he make himself believe that Angelique was truly gone, never to return.
The first nip of cool, autumn air swept by him as he stared at the pond, remembering how warm it had been only a few nights ago. In London, he had been eager to bring Angelique to Windword, had longed to show her all this. He had wanted to make love to her here. Instead, what they had shared had been far from joyous. The thought of Angelique with Bertrand had enraged him, igniting a fury hard to control.
Now, all that was left were bitter memories that plagued him, but the last image of Angelique as she tried to shield her nakedness from him, pleading with him not to touch her would, no doubt, torture him a lifetime.
He turned and walked back to the stables. His horse trailed closely behind his steady, determined pace. Handing the animal to the stable boy, he made his way to the manor house and entered the study. He had neglected his responsibilities long enough.
Forcing himself to concentrate on business, Nicholas sat at his desk. One envelope caught his attention. Addressed to him, it had been hand-delivered yesterday. He picked it up, but as he was about to tear it open, he heard knocking.
“Come in,” Nicholas said, raising his head from the desk at his father’s interruption. “I’m glad you’re here. I have business in Madrid,” he informed him. “I’m leaving for Spain as soon as I make the arrangements.”
Lord Edmund seemed preoccupied. “Have you heard from Angelique?” he asked, frowning. “She told her aunt that she was going shopping in London for a fall wardrobe. Did she forget we are entertaining important clients tomorrow evening?”
“Angelique won’t be entertaining your guests. She’s halfway across the Atlantic with Bertrand by now.”
“Bertrand?” The earl raised an eyebrow. “Impossible. The man is engaged to Brownell’s daughter. This is what I came to tell you, Nicholas. You can imagine my surprise when I received the wedding invitation this morning and read Bertrand’s name on it. I must say, Henri has proven to be quite the resourceful fellow … more astute than I ever dreamed,” Edmund informed, chuckling. “I can assure you, there is absolutely nothing going on between your wife and Henri Bertrand.”
“Tell them that,” Nicholas remarked icily as he tore open the envelope in his hands. “If what you’re saying is true, then what the devil was Bertrand doing with Angelique in the pond three nights ago?”
“I arranged for the meeting, at her insistence, of course,” Edmund replied. “Your wife does not give up until she gets her way. Most stubborn, she is. It’s one of the things I like most about her. Marguerite and I have grown quite fond of her.”
Incredulous, Nicholas made a fist and crumpled the envelope he was holding into a tight ball. “Let me get this straight. You helped my wife plan a tryst with her lover, to meet here right under my nose?” he demanded.
“Nicholas, don’t look so furious. It was no lovers’ tryst your wife was planning. Angelique wanted Bertrand to be free from his promise to her so the lad could pursue other prospects. She didn’t want the young man to wait a year, only to learn that she would not be returning to him. Angelique is not with Bertrand. Find her and bring her back, Nicholas. Your wife belongs here at Windword. This is where she wants to be.”
“How many times?”
The earl’s brow crinkled in confusion. “How many times, what?”
“How many times did they meet?”
“Just once, here at Windword. I did not allow her to see Bertrand while you were in India. I needed to reassure myself that she really loves you. Once I was convinced of her feelings for you and felt it was safe to arrange their meeting, Bertrand was already off to America. He returned just recently. I didn’t expect you back from France so soon or I would never have sent for him.”
Before Nicholas could respond, he noticed Godfrey hovering at the door, begging to be acknowledged. “What is it now, damn it?”
“I—I’m sorry for the interruption, my lord,” stammered the butler, “but there is a very persistent woman who demands to see you. Being that you wished not to be disturbed, I have turned her away twice, but she is adamant, insisting that it urgently pertains to Lady Angelique. She is in the hallway and maintains it is a matter of life or death.”
Nicholas did not wait for the butler to finish. He shot up from his desk and rushed to the door, then watched in amazement as the woman, accompanied by a little boy, scurried into the study. Stunned, Nicholas stared into dark blue eyes that mirrored his own. He turned questioningly to the hefty woman where she had already helped herself to a chair.
“Indeed, milord, he is your spitting image. Lord Kent, meet your nephew, Colin.”
Her face sobered. “I must assure you that this was none of my doing. It was Miss Clemmons’ doing. I must be quick about this,” she continued breathlessly. “Your wife is being held against her will. Her life is in danger!”
* * * *
Janie stood in the hallway, holding a large traveling bag. “Where have you been?” she snapped as she saw Edgar Mason walking toward her, drying his hands on a dirty dishtowel. “Have you heard anything?”
“Not yet. The messenger will let me know when the ransom has been paid. The money will be delivered to me as soon as it is safe. Don’t worry, Lord Kent will never know his wife’s kidnappers.”
“Mason, I was supposed to leave for Windword Hall first thing this morning, and you have detained me. Look at the hour … it is almost night. We need to finalize a few details. After you do away with her, how will you dispose of the body? It must never be traced to us. For God’s sake, Mason. Can’t you control the little bastards? Where’s that wife of yours?”
Edgar coughed. “The blasted woman has left me, and I have no one to help me with the children.”
“Gertrude has gone—gone where?” Janie screeched, dropping the duffel bag at her feet. “How long has she been missing?”
“Since last evening.”
She flapped her hands to her thighs. “You incompetent fool! Why didn’t you mention thi
s to me sooner?”
“I wasn’t aware that Gertrude’s whereabouts mattered to you one way or the other. It is I who must take over her responsibilities,” Edgar retorted in his defense.
“Mason, did it not occur to you that she could have gone to the authorities?”
Edgar used the dishcloth to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Gertrude would not dare,” he answered curtly. “She sent word this morning that she has left me for good. She is on her way to Leicestershire to live with her cousin, Beatrice. Calm down, Miss Clemmons, she would never double-cross us, she’s too much of a coward.”
“How can you be so certain?”
Edgar’s thin, wrinkled lips twisted into an evil grin. “Believe me, Gertrude knows the consequences of her betrayal.”
“Not if we’re sent to prison for the rest of our days. What harm will come to her then? Mason, if she has in any way ruined …”