He had, damn it all. Just for a moment, he had forgotten the boy. But his memory had returned and ruined everything. He shot a wordless glare at the woman before him. Then he turned, pushed past the child and was gone.
Chapter Nine
No matter what he intended, Gerry was far too quick to play the fool for this family. A few daubs of paint, a doe-eyed glance and a pair of soft lips and he had been ready to forget the obvious, until it had intruded on him and demanded his attention.
He must not be swayed by appearances. The woman he’d married was as crafty as Eve, just like the rest of her family. But if she was to be any use to him outside the bedroom, it would be easy enough to prove. He crossed the length of the house to his study, pulled the chequebook from the desk drawer and wrote a hurried draft. Then he went in search of his brother-in-law.
‘Ronald North.’ He found him in the billiard room and greeted him with the same joviality he had on the previous night.
‘Wiscombe.’ The memory of the previous night’s game must have been fresh in his mind, for he did not bother to be pleasant.
‘Practising for a rematch?’ Gerry said, picking up a ball from the table to spoil the shot. ‘I would think, after years of chasing Rex about the wood, you would know that it is very hard to beat a native habitué of the Chase at any game played here.’
‘It was never my intention to best you,’ Ronald said, with a smile. ‘There is no reason we need to be at odds. We are family now, after all.’
‘By marriage,’ Gerry reminded him. ‘And while I am grateful for the help you provided with the house and lands, I suspect you must be growing tired of the place and eager to get back to wherever it was you came from.’ He pulled the cheque from his pocket and held it out to his wife’s brother. ‘This should cover the cost of repairs made to the house and the commission your father bought. I have added an expression of my gratitude for your help, as well.’
The look of shock on Ronald’s face was most satisfying. It was clear that he would not have thought to ask for this much, had he carried through with his original plan. Now, he was torn between pocketing the money and looking for the catch hidden within the offer.
‘There should be enough here to find a place of your own, if you do not already have one,’ Gerry added. ‘Dear Lily and I are eager to begin a private honeymoon, now that I am returned.’
Ronald withdrew his hand. ‘You and Lily and Stewart, you mean.’
And there was the boy again, in the way even when he was not here. ‘We are speaking of you at the moment,’ Gerry reminded him, dragging the conversation back to where it belonged. ‘I suspect it will be very dull for you, once your friends are gone. Unless you wish to spend your future evenings playing Spillikins with us.’
Ronald laughed. ‘No guests and nursery games? Are you going to tell me you had no time for cards in the army?’
‘I am as skilled at them as I am at billiards,’ he admitted. ‘But I do not like them overmuch, since the time I was forced to challenge an acquaintance for cheating at the table.’
‘A rather extreme reaction for what was probably a mistake on your part,’ Ronald said, watching him closely.
‘On the contrary, it was the other fellow’s mistake.’ He smiled, baring his teeth. ‘He didn’t have an opportunity to make another.’
‘And what does this story have to do with anything?’ Ronald asked, impatient.
‘It is merely to inform you of the future of Wiscombe Chase,’ Gerry said. ‘No guests. No cards. No hunting either, for that matter. Nothing but peace and quiet from here onwards.’ He held out the cheque again.
Ronald took it from him, ripped it in half and handed it back to him. ‘Do not insult me, sir.’
Gerry grinned back at him. ‘If you find this insulting, you have much to learn, Ronald. Let me know when you have found a place to settle. We will need the direction so we can forward the mail.’
* * *
‘I do not think Papa likes me very much.’
After the captain had left them, Lily had struggled to calm her racing heart. It was not just the touch of her husband’s hands that left her feeling naked and exposed. She thought he’d uncovered everything about her, from the reason for their marriage to her devoted reading of his war exploits. Then Stewart had come into the room and reminded them both that there were some secrets still remaining.
Even though the captain was no longer in sight, her son was staring back down the hall, hoping he’d return. It had been foolish of her to feed the child on tales of the hero of Salamanca. Had she honestly thought that an outpouring of devotion from the boy would result in answering love from the man?
Of course she had. It was different for women. She had not wanted a child, either. At one time, she’d even planned to send him away, never to be spoken of again. But once he’d arrived she could not manage to do it. He was harmless and blameless and he needed her. More importantly, he was blood of her blood, closer to her than her father and brother would ever be. Stewart was the only person in the house, perhaps the only one in the world, who truly loved her without boundary or question.
Now she came forward to take him by the hand, leading him away from the doorway to their favourite place, a bench by the window that was all but hidden by large ferns.
‘Papa does not like you?’ She put her hand in the middle of his back and felt the trembling that was a first indicator of tears. It would be even worse for them both if the captain realised that he had been burdened with what some might call an overly sensitive child. She rubbed his shoulders, soothing him until the tremor passed and he was calm again. ‘I think it is too soon to make such judgements against him,’ she lied. ‘He has been home but a day. You barely know each other.’
‘Before, in the hall, he told me to go away,’ Stewart said.
‘And so you followed him into the conservatory?’ Lily could not help but smile.
‘I did not know he would be here,’ Stewart argued.
‘But he thought you disobeyed him,’ Lily said gently. ‘That might be the reason he seemed angry.’ One of the reasons, at least.
‘He was kissing you.’ Now militant anger was banishing the doubt.
Here was another thing she had not thought to prepare him for. ‘Yes. And he will do so again. At least, I hope he will. I quite like it when the captain kisses me.’ Finally, there was a bit of honesty in the conversation.
‘Do you like it better than when I kiss you?’ Worry was creeping back into the boy’s voice.
‘It is a very different thing when you kiss me. I like your kisses, as well.’ She turned to him, held out her arms and was rewarded with a wet kiss on the cheek. She kissed him back on the top of the head and smiled down at him so he might see nothing had changed between them.
Stewart frowned back, unimpressed. ‘Well, I do not like it when he kisses you. If anyone must go away, it should be him. At least he could stay away from the conservatory. That is our place. He can have the stables. He likes horses. I do not.’
This was another problem that she had not dared mention to the cavalryman. The only time they had tried to put him in the saddle, they’d found Stewart a mare so placid it should have been no more dangerous than riding the parlour sofa. And yet she had dumped him into the first hedge and broken his collarbone. Stewart did not like horses and, as far as anyone could tell, the feeling was mutual.
‘It does not matter if you like horses or not,’ she said, hoping it was true. ‘I suspect he would rather you not ride at all than that you do so simply to hunt foxes. He seemed most disapproving of that activity at dinner last night.’
The boy brightened a little.
‘And we cannot send Captain Wiscombe away,’ she added. ‘This is his house and he is quite eager to stay in it, after so long away.’ But her husband was far less eager to
share the house with the child at her side. How could she ever explain it to Stewart in a way that did not break his heart?
She gave him an encouraging smile. ‘But for now, you must do your best to be patient with the captain. I am afraid he does not know very much about the likes and dislikes of little boys.’
Stewart frowned. ‘He should know more than you. He used to be one.’
That was true enough. But it did not sound as though his childhood had been a happy one. ‘When he was young, things were very different. The captain’s father was very strict and sent him off to school at a very young age. He was not allowed home, even for holidays.’
‘But he would not do that to me, would he?’ he asked in a frightened whisper. By the look on Stewart’s face, he could not imagine a worse fate than the one that might very well be his immediate future.
‘Of course not.’ Perhaps she was not a North. No member of family had ever been as unconvincing a liar as she was now.
Despite her efforts to hide it, Stewart had glimpsed the truth. ‘But if he wanted to, you would not let him,’ he said and stared up at her, desperate for reassurance.
If her husband insisted, what choice would she have but to obey? How would she survive when he was gone? What meaning would life have if she regained the love and trust of her husband by sacrificing the child who had loved her without question from his first breath?
‘Of course not.’ She kissed him on the top of the head so that he could not see the fear in her eyes. ‘Do not worry about the captain, or anything else. I will take care of him and you.’ She would find a way to make this work. She had to. ‘But for now, do not cling to his heels. Give him time to recover from his travels. I am sure everything will work out for the best.’
She must have grown more convincing with practice. Her son nodded to her and gave her a small smile and another hug.
She smoothed his hair. ‘Now back to the nursery with you. It is almost time for lessons and you do not want to keep Miss Fisher waiting.’
When he had gone, her brother stepped forward from the other side of the fern. ‘Everything will work out for the best?’ He applauded her with a series of slow claps and an ironic smile. ‘A touching performance, Lillian.’
‘It was not a performance,’ she whispered, glancing towards the hall to make sure her son had not heard.
He laughed. ‘It was made up of whole cloth to keep your son from crying.’
She walked across the room to shut the doors so there would be no further interruptions. ‘He is just a little boy. What would you have me do?’
‘You could tell him that his position here is even more precarious than yours.’
‘What good would that do, other than to frighten him?’
‘At least it would be honest. You should have told him the truth from the first. You should not have raised him to idolise a man who is not his father.’
‘When did you become a champion for the truth?’ she snapped.
‘When did you become so good at lying to yourself?’ he countered. ‘You are pretending that it will be possible to resolve the problem of Stewart with time and patience.’
‘Stewart is not the problem,’ she said, closing her eyes so she would not have to see the smile on Ronald’s face.
‘Of course not,’ he said, suddenly gentle. ‘Gerry Wiscombe is. If he’d had the decency to die as expected, we would not be in this mess.’
‘You mustn’t say such a thing.’ She opened her eyes again to stare past him, at the door.
‘Do not lie and say you never thought it yourself.’ Ronald moved in front of her so she could not avoid his gaze. ‘Admit it. Life would be easier for Stewart if your husband was dead.’
It would. But she would die herself before she said so. ‘I will not choose between my husband and son. And if you and Father have plans for Captain Wiscombe, you should not be wishing him dead.’
‘We had plans,’ Ronald said, almost too sweetly. ‘But just now, he caught me in the hall, grinned like an idiot and, without so much as blinking, offered me ten thousand pounds for the repairs done on the house. Then he asked me where our future home might be, now that we would no longer be able to entertain here.’
‘Did you take the money?’ she said, hoping that, just once, her brother would do the sensible thing and admit defeat.
‘Of course not. We can make ten times that if we stay here. But how did he know to bribe me? Did you tell him of my plans?’
She said nothing, for it was clear he knew the answer.
Her brother nodded, as if he had expected her silence. ‘It is clear that we cannot trust you to be loyal to your family, even though it is in your best interest. So, dear sister, I will make it easier for you.’ There was something dangerous in his offer of help, like the warning hiss of a snake before the strike.
‘What do you mean to do?’
He smiled again, and waved a warning finger. ‘If I tell you, Lillian, you will pass the information on to Gerry, just as you did before. You’ve done enough tattling, so I must give you a reason to stop. If you offer him so much as a word of warning that something is afoot, I will track down young Stewart and tell him everything that you have not.’
‘You would not dare.’ But, of course he would. After a lifetime watching her brother take advantage of others, there was not a doubt in her mind that he would hurt a child to further his ends.
‘If you wish to test me, talk to your husband. Ask the heroic Captain Wiscombe to protect the boy from me and see what that gains you. He cannot stand the sight of the child. He might even applaud my effort to clarify Stewart’s position here.’
‘He would never be so cruel,’ she said.
‘Put him ahead of your family again and we shall see. Or do what you should have done from the first. Hold your tongue and trust that we will take care of you, just as we always have.’
Chapter Ten
With the absence of the Carstairs, the upstarts at his luncheon table had each moved a seat closer to the head of the table. Against all decorum, Miss Fellowes still held the spot on his left, while Mrs Wilson had taken the right. While the married lady seemed more interested in the wild boar and mushroom pie on her plate, Gerry was beginning to worry that Miss Fellowes intended to make a meal of him. He’d noticed several accidental touches of his sleeve at the beginning of the meal. Now that they were finishing, he felt the gentle pressure of a knee against his own.
He shifted to the right to evade her and stared down the dining table at his wife. If possible, she was even lovelier than she’d been in the conservatory. There was still a pleasant flush in her cheeks from the kisses he had given her. And though her throat was bare of ornament, he could not seem to tear his eyes away from it. He wanted to touch his tongue to the faint pulse beating there, to make it race as he seduced her. If he was not careful, he would give himself over to her, body and soul, as he’d been ready to do this morning.
At least, until her son had interrupted them and brought him crashing back to earth. How had he managed to forget about the one obstacle in their marriage that was all but insurmountable? Even if he managed to rid the house of the child, there was the question of inheritance. He must see if it were possible, at this late date, to deny parentage of the boy, if only to protect any real offspring they might have. The longer he waited, the worse it was likely to be for all concerned.
Laws being what they were, it might be easier to disown a legitimate child than cast off his wife. Now that he was here, and could look into her huge brown eyes...
It was lust. That or stupidity. When he held her, he forgot to be sensible. Her obvious attraction to him made it even more difficult to control himself. And her willingness to share her family’s secrets left him with the illogical hope that there might be no more lies between them.
The stunn
ed look on Ronald’s face when he’d offered to buy him off had done much to justify the hardship he’d endured to get the money. Ronald would live to regret that he’d refused that offer. The alternative methods of ridding himself of the Norths were far less pleasant than bribery. And with Lillian’s continued help he would be one jump ahead of her brother at every turn.
‘Will you be joining us in the sitting room this afternoon, Captain Wiscombe?’ Miss Fellowes batted her eyes and closed the distance between them again. ‘The gentlemen have declared the day too wet for a hunt. And last night we ladies missed your company.’
From the end of the table, Sir Chauncey noticed the attention Gerry was receiving from his light o’ love and shot him an icy glare.
Apparently, the insolent puppy did not realise the insult he had given, bringing a whore to a house party. Gerry ignored him and awarded her his most empty-headed smile. ‘Of course, Miss Fellowes. My wife will be joining us, as well. She is fully recovered from last night’s headache.’
Lily’s mouth had already been open to refuse, but she read the look in his eyes and closed it slowly, forcing a smile. ‘Of course, Captain. I am looking forward to it.’
‘I imagine you are,’ he replied. But something was wrong. The skin about her lips was white with tension and her brow was furrowed. Perhaps her megrims were genuine. If so, she must learn to ignore them. Tonight, he would speak to her about the need to be socially available, in case he needed her help. If she did not like the people her father entertained, she must see that avoiding them and hiding in her room had done nothing to reduce their numbers. The way to conquer adversity, or a gaggle of unwanted house guests, was to meet it head on.
* * *
After the last of them had finished their meal, they adjoined to the sitting room and the ladies requested a table be set up so they might play loo.
‘Captain Wiscombe,’ Mrs Burke called, ‘you must open your purse wider for your poor wife. She refuses to bet with more than sixpence. If there is so little in the pot, it is hardly worth playing.’
The Secrets of Wiscombe Chase Page 10