The Secrets of Wiscombe Chase

by Christine Merrill

  ‘He has not said so,’ the earl said, feigning innocence.

  ‘Because I requested that he allow me to speak to you. I wish you gone, as well.’

  He clutched at his heart as though her words wounded him. ‘You would send me away after all we have meant to each other?’

  ‘You mean nothing to me,’ she said, feeling her throat tightening again. She swallowed and waited for it to relax.

  ‘But you are one of my fondest memories,’ he said. ‘The night we spent together, during that first house party...’

  The air seemed to rush out of the room and her head filled with the buzzing that preceded the worst of her megrims. ‘You remember.’

  ‘Of course. Have I ever said that I’d forgotten it?’

  He had not. He had not mentioned it until those hints the other day. But then, in all these years, she’d taken great care to never be alone with him. ‘I thought, perhaps, you were so inebriated that you did not realise what you had done. But if you remember it so well, the least you could do is apologise for it.’

  ‘What about that night do I have to be sorry for?’ he said, seeming honestly surprised. ‘It was a pleasant interlude. I am surprised that we did not repeat it. Your husband was away for a long time. You must have been very lonely.’

  ‘A pleasant interlude?’ For the first time when facing him, her anger banished the fear. ‘Perhaps you enjoyed it. But I remember being assaulted by a stinking drunk.’ She was not shouting, but it felt as if she were. Her voice had no trace of the ridiculous breathiness it got when she was forced to speak to him. And her head was almost clear.

  ‘If it was so awful, then why didn’t you complain to someone?’ He gave her an annoyingly triumphant smile.

  ‘You should consider yourself fortunate that I haven’t,’ she said. ‘It would not have gone well for you if I’d come forward with the truth.’

  ‘Gone well for me?’ At this, the earl laughed. ‘My dear lady, when one reaches a certain rank it is exceptionally difficult for things to go any way but well. You would accuse me, I would call you a lying whore and that would be that.’

  It was exactly the threat she had expected seven years ago, when she had decided to stay silent.

  ‘It will be even worse if you intend to defame me now,’ he said.

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Now that the good captain has exposed your father and brother for the cheats they are, they cannot afford to have me go to the law.’

  ‘Is that what you think?’ she said, taking measured breaths as she waited for him to finish.

  ‘If you accuse me, I will tell everyone that you are from a family of criminals and that you were nothing more than a part of the entertainment.’

  ‘An entertainer.’ His threats were foul. But they were nothing but words. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

  ‘I paid well for the use of you, my dear. Your family has done irreparable damage to my fortunes over the years. It will take more than one night to equal the money they took.’

  ‘What is between my father, my brother and you is none of my affair,’ she said. ‘My husband and I want no part of it.’

  ‘And what about the boy?’

  ‘What of him?’ Her bravery was a sham. She could feel the blood rushing from her head, as her vision narrowed to a tunnel.

  ‘He is mine, of course.’

  ‘He is mine,’ she said, and felt her strength returning. Stewart was hers and she would fight for him. ‘He is mine. And the captain’s,’ she added. ‘He told you so.’

  ‘He might not know the truth, my dear. But we do.’

  She ignored the tremor of unease that went through her, taking care to keep her voice calm. ‘I was not sure what you knew. You have said nothing about that, either.’

  ‘I had no desire to. It is not as if I wanted to acknowledge him. I was quite happy with things as they were.’

  ‘I suppose you were,’ she agreed. Perhaps if he had been a less repellent specimen, she might have demanded he pay to educate the child he had fathered, instead of hiding the boy from him.

  ‘But if you have suddenly decided to put me out, you are forcing my hand. I suggest you take a more cooperative attitude in regard to my stay here and my attentions to you. If you do not, I will go to the law and tell my tale. Your father and brother will go to gaol, where they belong. And then I will go to Wiscombe and tell him the truth about his son.’ He was sneering at her as if he expected immediate capitulation.

  Something inside of her snapped. The last of the headache was gone, burst like a bubble, leaving a dangerous clarity behind. ‘Those are your plans, are they?’

  He gave a nod.

  ‘Then let me answer your threats. Do what you will to my father and brother. If they do not have the skill to evade the law, they are no longer worthy of the North name. And as for Stewart? I made Gerald aware of the issues with his parentage the day of his return.’

  ‘You told him?’ By the shocked look on his face, the earl had obviously not expected this response. ‘Why?’

  She smiled. ‘Because I tell my husband everything. Almost everything, that is. I told him that my attacker was dead because I feared what might happen if he learned that you still resided under his roof.’ Her smile widened. ‘He threatened violence. But there are only so many duels he can fight in a single week. Though he did handle the one this morning with no real effort. I had not expected there would be so much blood...’

  The earl went pale. Although he did not mind the blood of animals, humans were another matter entirely. He rallied. ‘He would not dare touch me. I am a peer.’

  ‘He is very protective of me,’ she said. ‘And Stewart, as well.’ That was nothing more than wishful thinking, but she said it anyway before returning to the truth. ‘Just this morning, he was telling me of his exploits in the war. Did you know he is capable of killing a man with his hands?’

  ‘But that was a Frenchman,’ the earl said, his voice quavering.

  ‘He shot my brother over a card game,’ she explained. ‘And he was barely annoyed about that. Can you imagine what he might be like if his anger was aroused?’

  ‘Ronald North deserved worse than he got,’ Greywall insisted.

  ‘Just as you do. I begged him to be merciful to my brother, but I have no such soft feelings for you. One word from me and there will be no safe place in England for you.’

  ‘He would hang for attacking an earl,’ Greywall said.

  ‘If he got caught, he would,’ she agreed. ‘But if you threaten me or my son, I doubt he would care. I suspect he would act first and face the consequences after. That is why I kept your secret. I do not want to see my husband risk arrest for avenging my attack. But if he finds out what you did, I doubt I would be able to stop him.’

  ‘You would not dare tell him,’ he said. But he didn’t sound as sure as he had.

  ‘And neither should you. You have nothing to hold over me, my lord. If you tell your secret, he will end you.’ Her smile turned into a grin. ‘Do not think you can leverage me into becoming your mistress or make me abide your odious presence for one day longer. My husband will be putting you out of the house tomorrow and I have no intention of coming within ten yards of you ever again. If you do not like it, go ahead. Do your worst. It will not matter which of us reveals the truth, you will be the one to face the consequences.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  The breakfast table was almost empty. Gerry smiled into his coffee, imagining how much better it would be when the last three guests were gone. As soon as they were, he would insist that Mrs Wiscombe move down the table to sit at his side instead of languishing at the far end. With her little red coat and a feather tucked behind one ear, she made such a fetching little soldier that when she joined them, he’d offered her a salute.

  She’
d responded with a cool smile of her own and a slight nod to tell him that her mission had been successfully accomplished.

  There was a rattle of cutlery and a low curse as Ronald North struggled to cut his kipper with his left hand. Even with an improved bandaging and a few stiff drinks before breakfast, he was obviously in a great deal of pain.

  Gerry ignored the grumbling and smiled left and right to the North gentlemen on either side of him. ‘Well, my friends, now that the party is ending, have you given any thought to your future plans?’

  ‘I plan to find some food that I can actually eat,’ Ronald said, throwing his knife aside.

  ‘It is fortunate that drinking only takes a single hand,’ Gerry said, still smiling. ‘You can do that anywhere. But your other favourite activities will be lacking here, now that we have no plans to entertain. Amongst the family, there is little point in playing cards for anything dearer than buttons. I am declaring a moratorium on billiards until I can procure a new table. And there will be no more hunting.’

  ‘No hunting?’ The elder North looked shocked at the idea. ‘But Wiscombe Chase is a hunting lodge.’

  ‘Perhaps the next generation will wish to take up a weapon and stalk game, but I have no interest in it,’ Gerry replied.

  ‘Does Stewart like to hunt, Lillian?’ Ronald pushed his plate aside and stared down the table at his sister.

  Confronted with the last hurdle to their happiness, his wife flushed as scarlet as her coat and did not answer. But neither did she appear to be suffering from shortness of breath or headache that such an attack would have caused only a few days before.

  No matter what Ronald was up to, Gerry refused to be drawn into a discussion at the breakfast table that might upset her newfound equilibrium. ‘That matter can be established at a later time.’

  She shot him a smile and a look of such hope that he prayed she had not misinterpreted the statement as anything other than an effort to silence her brother. It was immaterial to him whether Stewart hunted or not. Whichever choice he made, it would not be exercised on Wiscombe lands.

  ‘But no hunting,’ North said, still amazed. ‘Surely an exception will be made for your neighbour, the earl.’

  What the devil was North attempting now? There was no way that the earl would be allowed to return once he’d been evicted from the house.

  ‘Yes, indeed, Captain,’ the earl said. ‘Your wife has explained to me your desire for privacy. Though you wish the house to yourself, you cannot mean to close the grounds to me, as well. I have been hunting them so long, I feel as if they are my own.’ There was no humility in the smile that accompanied this outrageous request. Only the annoying assumption that, since his ancestors had been given a title, he should be allowed to be where he was not welcome.

  As she usually was at the table, Lily remained silent. But her eyes smouldered with irritation at the suggestion that the earl might still be wandering the land.

  Gerry offered him a sympathetic shrug. ‘Alas, my lord, I mean to stand firm on this. No hunting. None by anyone.’

  ‘Well, we are not gone yet,’ North said with a smile. ‘We will pack tonight and be gone tomorrow. But there is still time to hunt today.’

  The earl brightened. ‘One last hunt, Wiscombe. And then I will leave you. Now that the cits are not here scaring the game with their common behaviour, I might finally get a shot at that champion stag of yours.’

  ‘I am sure that the London accents were the only things standing between you and old Rex,’ Gerry said, not bothering with an idiot’s grin to put the man at ease.

  North ignored his sarcasm. ‘An intimate hunt. It is such a wonderful idea that I am amazed we have not done it before. I will accompany you, Lord Greywall.’ Now North was the one grinning. As usual, his was harmless, affable and extremely persuasive. ‘It is ages since I have been out in the fresh air.’

  ‘You are so rarely out in the woods—you have no idea what trails the stag might use,’ Ronald said, irritably.

  ‘Then we shall take Wiscombe with us,’ North said, with one of his most convincing smiles. ‘He will be an even better guide than you because it is his land. He must know it better than any man in England.’ His smile dimmed. ‘At least, I should hope so.’ He gave Gerry a doubtful look. ‘But if it has been too long, or if you and your horse are not in fit condition for a few jumps...’

  Was the man actually challenging him to prove his worth as horseman? Gerry was pushing back from the table automatically before his brain reminded him that, with his father-in-law, nothing was so clear-cut that it could be understood on first hearing. Had Ronald’s comment really been a sign of his contrary nature, of a part of some carefully prepared script?

  ‘I suppose I could accompany you,’ Gerry said, slowly, looking from one face to the next, trying to find the trap.

  ‘I thought you said you did not enjoy hunting.’ Greywall was equally suspicious.

  Gerry shrugged. ‘Not usually. But Ronald is in no condition to go, with only one hand to hold the gun.’

  At this, Ronald glared up the table at him like the petulant child he was.

  ‘And Lord Greywall should not be forced to take to the woods alone if he is truly interested in sport,’ North said. ‘He would not be able to drag such a huge stag alone.’

  ‘Surely a footman or two could be spared,’ Gerry said, looking at him even more suspiciously. Perhaps after seeing what had happened to his son, North wished to get him into the woods and put a bullet in his back, on purpose, by mistake.

  If so, he would be disappointed. Once they were clear of the house, and of Lily, North and Greywall could attack. He would defend himself to the death, if necessary. At least the matter would be settled today. He refused to spend his life looking over his shoulder, waiting to be shot.

  ‘Footmen were good enough for those London commoners. But surely, since it is Lord Greywall, you should be our guide,’ North insisted.

  ‘Oh, ho. I had forgotten that this was for the benefit of Lord Greywall,’ Gerry said, unable to contain his sarcasm. ‘Of course, you are right. A peer cannot be sent out in the company of servants.’

  ‘If you do not wish to take me today, perhaps another time...’ The earl was deliberately forgetting that there would be no more visits.

  ‘Since this will be your last hunt here, I wish you all the luck you deserve.’

  Lily had spoken. It was such an odd occurrence at the table that all the men looked up in surprise.

  ‘As my husband said, we are having no more hunting parties.’ Her eyes were as wide and innocent as a true North. But there was no accompanying smile. ‘I am sorry, my lord. Despite your desire to return as a valued neighbour, you will not be roaming our land like a stray dog. Once you leave Wiscombe Chase tomorrow, you will not be coming back. And today, my husband will accompany you to make sure you know the boundaries of the property so there will be no accidental incursion.’

  ‘But what if I cannot manage to take the stag?’ The earl was still trying to gain a reprieve.

  ‘You have been trying for years,’ Lily reminded him. ‘I think it is time to admit that the poor animal has beaten you.’

  ‘I will never admit that,’ the earl said, glaring at her so venomously that Gerry felt the hairs on his neck rising in protective anger.

  ‘Then I am sorry you cannot accept the fact that there are some things on this property that you just...can’t...have.’ The expression on her face as she stared back at him was totally unfamiliar. Gerry had never seen her approach conflict with anything more than panic and pain. But this morning she was clear-headed and angry. The look in her eyes said, no matter what others in the room might say, she would not be moved.

  ‘We will discuss it when I return,’ the earl said. ‘Perhaps a payment...’

  ‘There will be no discussion. The discussion is
over. I am decided. No amount of money will change my mind.’

  Was it his influence that had changed her so? He’d have liked to have taken the credit, but he doubted it. Perhaps he had sparked something in her. But whatever burned now was too bright to be attributed to his doing. He offered an encouraging smile and another subservient salute, but she did not even look in his direction. It left him feeling as if he’d caught something far beyond his power to hold.

  This new strength was all her. And it was magnificent. She was holding the earl’s gaze with no sign of submission. In the end, he was the one to look away. ‘Captain Wiscombe, can you not control your wife?’

  ‘Apparently not, my lord,’ Gerry answered.

  ‘Then I will have to take the stag today.’ He pointed to North and Gerry. ‘The two of you will help me. Tonight the haunch will be served at dinner, and the head and horns will go back with me to Greywall tomorrow.’

  If that is what will get you to leave, thought Gerry. They would be chasing after the impossible. Rex, as he always had, would slip away into the moors, hiding where no man could follow. Orion himself could not trap the beast. Then he smiled and said aloud, ‘Of course. I have been tracking old Rex since I was a boy and know all his favourite places. Unless he has changed his direction, I will lead you right to him.’ But Greywall be damned, he would make sure that it was done from the windward side so Rex caught their scent and left nothing but tracks in the mud.

  ‘The sooner we start the better.’ The earl pushed his plate aside and rose from the table. ‘Have the servants load the weapons and we will go.’ Then he was gone to check his guns and saddle his horse.

  Gerry lingered at the table a moment longer, since his wife remained at her place, smiling and sipping her chocolate. She looked up at him, her huge dark eyes shaded by long lashes. ‘Do you wish a kiss for luck in today’s hunt?’ The words were weighted with strange and dangerous emotions, and he was thankful that none of them seemed to be directed at him.