As they watched Deverill ride away, Davina said with an arch look at Daintry, “I believe I am going to enjoy London this year. What a delightful man he is, to be sure! I quite look forward to each house party, though I had begun to find such events rather insipid. It is a pity you have missed so many this year.”
Daintry returned a polite response, but try as she would, she could not easily dismiss Davina’s flirting with Deverill. It was not jealousy, she told herself many times in the next few days, but justifiable fear that, with Deverill’s reputation and the fragile relationship between the families, any response he made to Davina could stir the coals of the feud to unquenchable flames. Nevertheless, she was grateful that she was not called upon to explain the strange urge she had, each time Truro was mentioned, to scratch out her lovely sister-in-law’s eyes.
She could not seem to stop thinking about the house party, and when Charley looked disappointed to see Davina and Charles depart for Truro three days later, she immediately invited the child to accompany her to Seacourt Head the following day.
“It has been nearly a sennight since we both visited Melissa, and she will be expecting us, I think.”
“Oh, yes, and you promised to take us riding on the shingle again, from Seacourt this time.”
“So I did. Very well, pray for good weather then, and we will leave first thing in the morning by the cliff path.”
The following morning, however, she awoke to find clouds gathering overhead, and had she not been so determined to give Charley a treat to make up for her parents’ absence, she might well have changed her mind about going. As it was, she took the bright blue sky in the west as a sign that the weather would clear without subjecting them to more than a shower or two, and they set out for Seacourt Head soon after breakfast.
The breezes were brisk and chilly, and the water of the Channel was gray, with foam edging its scudding waves and an occasional wall of spray flying before a gust of wind. The shoreline of France was hidden in mist, and Daintry, glancing around warily as they rode, noted unhappily that the western sky, which had been clear earlier, was rapidly growing dark.
Calling to Clemons, who rode placidly behind them, she said, “What do you think? Will it hold off until we get there?”
Casting an experienced eye skyward, the groom called back, “Going to spatter within the hour, my lady, but nothing heavy for a few hours yet. Ought to have listened to me earlier when I told you we was in for a storm. We’ll not get back today.”
“It didn’t look so bad before,” she said, “and furthermore, I had promised Miss Charley.”
“A little rain won’t hurt us so long as there is no thunder to terrify poor Victor before we get there,” Charley shouted, giving spur to the gelding, “and if it gets too bad to go home again, we shall just have to spend the night. There is nothing to fret about in that! It will be an adventure, that’s all.”
Exchanging a smile with Clemons, Daintry followed the child, urging Cloud to a faster pace to keep up. They made good time, and though it did begin to sprinkle before they reached Seacourt Head, they escaped a real wetting.
When they were shown into the drawing room overlooking the Channel, the lamps had already been lit against the darkening sky, and Susan, sitting near the fire with Lady Catherine, greeted them in some surprise. “Melissa said that you would visit today, but when we saw what the weather was like, the rest of us were sure you would not come.”
“The weather was fine when we left home,” Charley said, giving her a hug. “A little cloudy, but that was all.”
Daintry chuckled. “She is an optimist. I ought to have known better, but from some cause or other, I was restless and could not be content to remain at home. Moreover, I knew that if I refused to come, Charley would become impossible to live with.”
“But surely,” Sir Geoffrey said from the doorway into the stair hall, “Charlotte does not yet run things at Tuscombe Park.”
“No, of course not,” Daintry said, keeping her tone matter-of-fact, albeit with difficulty. “Truly, I did not think it would rain before we arrived here, Geoffrey, and I knew we might depend upon you for shelter if it grew too stormy for us to return this afternoon.”
“To be sure you can,” Susan said cheerfully.
Charley said, “May I go to Melissa now, Aunt Susan?”
“Of course, dear. She is in the schoolroom with her governess.”
“Where you ought to be,” Seacourt said with a grin, tousling her hair as she slipped past him. Then, looking at Daintry and no longer smiling, he said, “I cannot think what ails your father that he does not take firmer hold of the reins. In a properly run household two young females would certainly not be allowed to ride out on such a threatening day. As to seeking shelter here, you can be assured that you will not leave this house until I say you may. I do not want your deaths laid at my door.”
“They will not be, Geoffrey,” Daintry said, giving him look for look. “I am grateful for your hospitality, but there is no need to think my father ought to have forbidden us to come, for there was not. There was no danger this morning—”
“What of miscreants?” he demanded. “Do you forget that you and Lady Ophelia were fired upon, traveling from this house to Tuscombe Park. I do not forget that so easily.”
“I do not forget either, but we had Clemons with us today, and he is well-armed and perfectly able to look after our safety. Moreover, though there has been trouble elsewhere, we rarely meet anyone on the cliff path, as you must know as well as I do. All the land around the bay belongs to either Papa or to you, after all. When we were attacked before, we were on the public road.”
“Nonetheless, it will be as well for you to remember that I am master here, my girl, and you will certainly spend the night, for I will not hear of you leaving before the weather clears.”
Daintry said calmly, “Thank you for your concern.”
He gave her a look that was, she was certain, meant to intimidate her, but she met it easily, not looking away until he did, then turning her attention to Susan and Lady Catherine. When she glanced back a moment later, he was gone.
Susan breathed a sigh of relief. “I wish you would not bicker with him, Daintry. You only make him angry.”
Daintry looked at her searchingly. “Has he … ? That is …” She glanced at Lady Catherine and back at Susan. “How are you getting on these days? I have not seen you in more than a sennight, you know.”
Susan said with a wry smile, “Last year at this time you had not seen me in months!”
“Nevertheless, I had hoped that the good example Charley and I have been setting might by now have encouraged you to ride over to Tuscombe Park with Melissa, and with Lady Catherine, too, of course,” she added hastily.
“Please, I wish you will call me Catherine. I feel that I have become quite one of the family after so long a visit, you know, and such formality makes me feel as if you do not like me.”
Even after numerous visits, Daintry had learned little more about Catherine. Seacourt’s cousin seemed quiet and unassuming, and behaved like the perfect guest, pleasant and cheerful. It was impossible to dislike her, but it was equally impossible to feel that one knew her or to judge if she was in fact Geoffrey’s mistress, as Susan had claimed, or not. Daintry had had no chance to talk privately with her sister, for they were rarely alone together for more than a minute. She could not say whether that was by Susan’s choice or by the others’ conspiracy, only that there just never seemed time to talk.
These thoughts flitted through her head now in the scant seconds after Catherine spoke and before Susan said, “Geoffrey does not like us to leave home, Daintry, even with our grooms. He says it is just too dangerous at present.”
Catherine said, “You saw how he was just now. He is a very protective man, particularly where his womenfolk are concerned, and since that dreadful incident of the shooting, the local papers have reported many such tales. Geoffrey has read several of them to us, just to prove his poin
t.”
“Then come to us in the carriage and stay overnight,” Daintry said. “Geoffrey can provide you with an army of outriders if he wishes, but really, Susan, we are not so far away that you cannot make more of a push to visit. Mama feels your neglect, and so do the rest of us, particularly after you were able to spend such a lovely long visit with us last summer.”
For the first time that day, Susan failed to meet her gaze as she said, “I should be delighted to visit, but Geoffrey says Melissa has already missed too much time with her governess. He fears she will grow up to be as unlearned as a cottage child if she is not made to apply herself to her lessons. How does Nance go on? Does she hear from Annie? How kind they all were to us!”
Accepting the change of topic, Daintry wished again that she were able to demand an explanation of Susan’s behavior. Had she really lied to them about Seacourt? It was so easy for everyone else to believe that at the least she had exaggerated her danger. Daintry knew that both Jervaulx and Deverill believed Susan had done so, that she had behaved “just like a woman.” But she was not so sure. Even though her convictions had been shaken by Susan’s subsequent behavior and by Catherine’s casual mention of an apology, she still believed Susan had told her the truth at Tuscombe Park, and that she had behaved in the courtroom as she had because she knew Jervaulx was going to send her home, where she would be at her husband’s mercy. And yet, here she was now, looking as contented as if she had never had a problem in her life, let alone one so dangerous as a husband who beat her.
There was distant thunder in the air by the time the two little girls joined them for a light repast when Melissa’s lessons were done. Sir Geoffrey was not present, and the conversation was desultory, and soon turned to riding.
Lady Catherine said, “Charlotte, I understand that besides being quite a little horsewoman yourself, you are also an instructor. I paid Melissa a pretty compliment on her riding several mornings ago, and she said you were the one who had taught her to ride so well.”
“Oh, it was not me, ma’am,” Charley said with a grin. “It was Aunt Daintry. She taught us both.”
Shyly, Melissa said, “But it was Charley who made riding feel safe, Cousin Catherine. I was used to be afraid that my horse would run away with me, even though Aunt Daintry said over and over that it would not. But Charley said she would fix it so that not a single horse at Tuscombe Park would ever do such a thing, and she did it, too.”
“Goodness,” Catherine said, visibly impressed, “how ever did she contrive to do that?”
“She trained them all to stop when she whistles at—Ow!” Melissa looked indignantly at Charley. Encountering a fierce glare and a warning glance toward the doorway, she turned white as chalk and fell silent, but it was too late.
Catherine frowned and said slowly, “I see.” She turned accusingly toward Daintry, and at the same time, from the doorway, Geoffrey said sternly, “It is not polite to kick people under the table, Charlotte. Such behavior might be acceptable in your grandpapa’s house, but I send unmannerly children straight up to their bedchambers. Go up at once, please.”
“Yes, sir,” Charley muttered, getting to her feet just as a particularly loud crack of thunder exploded overhead, startling them all. “Oh,” she cried, “I must go to Victor! He does not like thunder so close as that.”
“You will do as you were told,” Seacourt snapped.
“But you don’t understand,” Charley said, moving swiftly to pass him. “He panics. I must go to him!”
Seacourt grabbed her and shook her. “You will do precisely as you are told, young lady, and if I hear another word out of you, I will put you straight across my knee right here and now and spank you so hard you will not want to sit down for a week.”
Daintry leapt to her feet. “Let her go, Geoffrey. She is not your daughter, and you will not lay a finger on her or, by heaven, you will answer to Charles and Davina, and to Aunt Ophelia, as well. Charley is not defying you. She is frightened for her horse, and with good reason.”
Seacourt released Charley, saying sternly, “You will seek your room, Charlotte, just as you were bid. If your groom cannot look after your horse, my people will help him, but you may not leave this house. Nor will you,” he added with a grim look at Daintry. “Neither Charles nor St. Merryn would dispute my right to keep you both inside on such a day as this, and what the devil are stablemen for if not to attend to the horses? That child,” he added, glancing over his shoulder to see that Charley had gone, “has been grossly overindulged and needs a sharp lesson.”
He left the room, and Daintry breathed a sigh of relief, hoping he had not drawn any undesirable conclusion from Melissa’s comments, and that if he had, he had forgotten it as a result of the brief dispute. Sitting back down, she saw that Catherine was looking displeased and thoughtful, and remembered with a sinking feeling that she also had cause to deprecate Charley’s horse training. Before she could think of anything to say to her, however, Susan said, “I wish you would not challenge Geoffrey like that. You make him angry, and he becomes very difficult.”
Catherine collected herself and said lightly, “You must exert yourself, Susan, to charm him into a better mood. No doubt the weather has dampened his spirits, and indeed, it is a pity that Daintry cannot seem to be in the same room with him without putting him out of sorts, but I do not doubt that you can bring him round your thumb easily enough before suppertime.”
Whether or not it was Susan who placated him, Geoffrey was perfectly amiable over dinner, relating legends of the Cornish moors for his cousin’s enjoyment and making the tales so lively that Daintry wished the little girls might have dined with them instead of in the schoolroom with Melissa’s governess. The weather continued to be wild, however, and when he decided they would make an early night of it, even Daintry made no objection.
The winds howled around the house, and thunder and lightning crashed and flashed till it seemed as if the place were under attack. In her bedchamber, having refused the assistance of Susan’s maid, Daintry paused before undressing to look out the window at the water below. Flashes of lightning reflecting from flying spray and foam made the scene an eerie but magnificent one, and only when she began to shiver with cold did she scramble into her borrowed nightgown and jump beneath the covers.
She fell asleep at once, despite the noise, but her dreams were filled with drums and storms and pounding hooves. She was high on a mountaintop looking down into a dark, mysterious lake, watching the approach of a rider on a great thundering black horse, who waved the sword Excalibur overhead as he rode up the hill toward her, when she came wide awake, her heart leaping with terror, to feel a hand clamped over her mouth and a heavy body pressed against hers in the bed.
Seventeen
STRUGGLING WILDLY, DAINTRY NEARLY failed to hear Seacourt when he growled, “You could scream yourself hoarse, you little bitch, for all the good it would do you, but I don’t choose to allow that, and whether you like it or not, I am master here.” Shifting his weight, he shoved the quilt aside, and when she began to struggle harder, he grabbed her left breast, squeezing it until she gasped and moaned at the pain.
“There are any number of ways for me to make my point,” he said. “Stop fighting me, damn you.”
The agony he caused brought tears to her eyes, but the terror was much worse. Lightning lit the room, and she could see his face close to hers, eyes glittering in anticipation of what he meant to do. She could smell brandy on his breath, and she tried to turn her face away but he would not let her. His hand, leaving her bruised breast, moved lower, and when she struggled again, he pinched the tender flesh of her abdomen, making her scream against the hard palm held tight against her mouth.
Then her mouth was free and she opened her lips to scream in earnest, but his head came down and his mouth covered hers, his tongue darting inside like an evil fat snake, in and out again so quickly that she could not react fast enough to bite it.
The quilt was gone, her nightgown rucke
d up to her thighs, and she felt the cold air on her bare legs. His knee pressed between them. Then his moving hand, with its long, horrid fingers, slipped between her legs, touching her where no one had ever touched her before, and when she tried to bite his lip, he jerked away and slapped her hard across the face.
Her ears rang from the slap, but she heard him clearly when he said, “That’s just a taste, little sister. You think you’re so very clever, with your horse tricks and your delight in making a fool of me. But now you’ll pay. You’ll do exactly what I tell you, or I’ll hurt you like you’ve never been hurt before, and there won’t be a sign of it afterward for anyone else to see.” He chuckled, the sound utterly fiendish in her ears, then added, “Not that you’ll want to show anyone, for you won’t. I’ll make sure of that. A woman’s body is easily punished. See?”
His hand moved between her legs, pinching her hard, proving his threat a real one, for she would never willingly let anyone see the flesh he was torturing. She screamed again, trying to make the sound carry above the crashing thunder, and this time he waited until the thunder stopped before he slapped her, snarling, “No more. No one can hear you anyway, and you’ll do yourself more good by obeying me. I’ve no intention of raping you, since that would be too easy for you to prove, but I am going to teach you a damned good lesson, and if you don’t lie still and take it, I’ll make you sorry you didn’t. Do you understand me?”
Crying now, as much from frustrated rage as from the pain he gave her, she wanted to kill him, but she had no weapon, so there seemed nothing to do but nod helplessly, then lie stiff and still while his hands roamed at will over her body, his touch making her feel sick. Thunder crashed, so near this time that it shook the walls, and she knew she would never again hear even a distant rumble without remembering this horror-filled night.
His hand slid under the borrowed nightgown to her breast, pinching the nipple until she wanted to scream again. Only the dawning realization that her screams somehow amused him, even gave him a perverted sort of pleasure, kept her silent. He pinched harder, however, and involuntarily, she cried out.
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