Lord Satan

by Judith Laik

  “Last Sunday after church, I heard Mrs. Hogwood tell Miss Marble it was unseemly when there were so many children already, and Papa and Mama scarce could provide for them.”

  “How dared she?” exclaimed Libbetty. “It’s not their affair. They are probably just jealous. After all, Mrs. Hogwood has only two children and Miss Marble none. Can you imagine any man ever offering for that toad-faced woman?”

  Catherine, diverted by the description of Miss Marble, giggled, and seemed less inclined to regard the forthcoming arrival of another brother or sister as a tragedy.

  “I should tell you, Cat, that we must all do our best to assist Mama. She has not felt very well.” Her mother’s admission of a headache that afternoon troubled Libbetty.

  “Of course, I would be happy to help Mama.”

  Looking at Cat, Libbetty knew that in this case Mrs. Hogwood did have some justification for the observations on her parents’ inability to provide for all their children.

  As Catherine matured, the early signs of her becoming the family beauty held true. She deserved a chance to shine in London society. Libbetty saw no hope of that future for her. Her parents aimed all their resources at fitting their sons for careers. The girls would presumably find husbands to provide for them, but the boys must make their own way.

  And with Isobel there was a different problem. She practiced upon the pianoforte at every opportunity, and to Libbetty’s ears had remarkable talent. Isobel was never satisfied with her progress, and although she did not repine, occasionally mentioned a longing for further instruction.

  Whom would Cat and Isobel find to marry in Peasebotham? There was no one good enough for her sisters.

  If Libbetty married Lord Cauldreigh, she would have money enough to help them. She could even shepherd her sisters through seasons in London. There, they could find worthy husbands.

  When Edwina had proposed that Libbetty encourage Cauldreigh, she had not thought of inducing in him a serious interest in her. The end of her secret betrothal to Wat was still too new to adjust her goals.

  But Cauldreigh had been interested in what she had to say about his properties and tenants. Still, that was a long way from interest in her. Since then, there had been no opportunity to see him. Cauldreigh still did not venture out of The Castle.

  She had wracked her mind for ways to uncover Lord Neil’s infamy without discovering anything she could do. On the night she and Alonso had sneaked into The Castle, Lord Neil had made it clear that from then on every door and every window would be double-checked every night to ensure all was locked tight. Even if she dared to break in again, that option was closed to her. But in any case she knew she would not hazard another attempt.

  *

  After the service the following Sunday, Libbetty stood with her mother in a cluster of people, when Lord Neil approached. Blood pounded in her ears, and she sensed the eyes of the others as he stopped in front of her.

  With no preamble, he said, “You’ve not come back to succor my nephew, Miss Bishop. Miss Hogwood has called twice with her brother, but Trevor hoped to receive a further call from you. Your neglect has disappointed him.”

  Her face heating at his marked attention, Libbetty scarcely knew how to reply. The ladies with her stared.

  Swallowing her envy that Edwina had frequented Cauldreigh Castle, she said, “I am glad that Edwina has induced her brother to accompany her.” At once, she perceived her words sounded indifferent, almost rude. She gulped and looked at her mother—she could not bring herself to meet Lord Neil’s gaze, though she could sense it as tangibly as the sun’s rays warming her.

  Mrs. Bishop bore an incredulous expression. Libbetty regretted the misfortune of her hearing about the call at The Castle in this way.

  Lord Neil’s bored drawl cut into her thoughts. “Trevor has asked after you. He stands in need of rescue from the continuing tedium of his convalescence. Perhaps you could bring your brother.”

  As though Tom could somehow rescue her from the pit into which she had fallen, Libbetty looked about for him, but he had already disappeared. She nodded.

  “Good. We eagerly anticipate seeing you at The Castle.” Lord Neil tipped his hat to the other ladies and walked away.

  “Well!” Miss Marble said when he was out of earshot. “I was not aware that you were acquainted with that man.”

  “I am, slightly,” Libbetty said. The Marble sisters had perfectly avaricious expressions, like toads that had just spied a particularly succulent fly. Mrs. Hayes gave her a smile of understanding, although she said nothing. Her mother’s visible dismay made Libbetty conscious of disappointing her.

  Miss Marble pursued her tidbit. “It sounded as if you have actually gone to The Castle to meet Lord Cauldreigh.”

  “Yes, I accompanied Miss Hogwood there once. She has more acquaintance with the Coltons than I do, I believe.” Having dangled the squire’s daughter as bait, Libbetty noted with relief that the Misses Marble rushed to quiz Mrs. and Miss Hogwood.

  This provided but a short-lived respite, however, for at home she underwent a sharp questioning from her mother and had to admit her rides on the Cauldreigh grounds with Edwina, and the call at The Castle. She left out the midnight call with Alonso.

  Mrs. Bishop did not scold Libbetty, but that did not ease her remorse at causing the hurt in her mother’s eyes. Nor did it help her anxiety that her father would soon learn of her conduct, and would chasten her more severely.

  His stern face at the dinner table left no doubt of his displeasure. After dinner, he issued the summons that she had feared. She forced a brave demeanor and entered his study to face her trial. She stood before his desk, staring down meekly.

  “Elizabeth, you deceived and disobeyed us, did you not?”

  “I have not disobeyed you, sir,” she ventured with a glance.

  “On the contrary, your deceit stemmed from knowledge that your conduct would be disapproved, and even if you did not disobey expressed commands, you nevertheless knowingly disregarded our wishes.

  “On the whole I find such behavior more reprehensible than an outright flouting of rules. It grieves me to find one of my children capable of this deception. Until I have seen some evidence that you will behave with more circumspection in the future, you will confine yourself to the house, Elizabeth.”

  Tears sprang to Libbetty’s eyes. “Oh, but Papa, that is unfair. I have helped to mind the children, taking them for walks and to play games outdoors. May I not at least continue to do that? Floss cannot manage all of them by herself, so they may not go out if I cannot go along to help.”

  “Perhaps an earlier consideration of the hardships your misconduct would cause others would have served you better. I am not certain you deserve such responsibility.” He looked at her doubtfully, while she struggled to contain her tears.

  “I will discuss the matter with your mother. If she wishes you to continue your outings with the children, I will allow that. You may not go out otherwise—except to church, of course,” he said.

  Grateful for this concession, and entirely conscious she had committed greater transgressions than he knew, she said, “Thank you, Papa,” and left the room.

  Mrs. Bishop granted permission for Libbetty to continue helping Floss. Her narrowed life left her with far too much time to think, and her thoughts seemed naturally to take a direction that would have shocked her father. Lord Neil’s words came all too frequently to her mind, and she found herself wishing she could accept his near-command.

  Edwina had to fend off her mother’s matchmaking efforts without help from Libbetty. What was more, Libbetty could not pursue either of her own goals, to prevent Lord Cauldreigh’s murder or to attach him for herself.

  In the next week the Misses Marble spread the word that his lordship now received callers, although Libbetty did not hear whether any villagers ventured to call at The Castle.

  On Sunday, the marquess at last returned to church. Again, he and his uncle left immediately after the service,
but no one seemed to resent this as they did previously. Instead, the villagers had sympathy for his attempts to regain his health.

  The Hogwood ladies called at the vicarage one day the following week. As Libbetty was not forbidden callers, she joined them at her mother’s behest. The older girl wore a new gown of pink-and-white striped taffeta, in a more dashing style than her mother had previously allowed her to wear, making Libbetty feel dowdy in her school-girlish old blue frock.

  The girls sat in a corner of the drawing room. Edwina said, “You haven’t saved me from Lord Cauldreigh’s attentions.”

  “I have been confined to home since Lord Neil revealed I had been at The Castle with you.” At the other end of the room, Mrs. Hogwood’s high-pitched voice raved about Lord Cauldreigh’s enchantment with Edwina. At the other girl’s petulant expression, Libbetty asked, “Are you quite sure you have not changed your mind about Lord Cauldreigh?”

  Edwina tossed her dusky curls. “Goodness, no. He is forever prosing on about military matters. I could not be married to such a bore.” She had an air of self-satisfaction that made Libbetty suspect Edwina obtained some gratification from being the object of his attentions, all the same.

  Her exclusion from events worsened Libbetty’s restlessness, especially when Edwina said she had ridden with Miss Bassett.

  “Sybille is casting out lures in Lord Neil’s direction. He has not shown any interest in her as yet, but she still has hopes. Of course, he doesn’t make such a good catch as Cauldreigh, but poor Sybille—what can she expect, after all?”

  “Well, I hope she may expect to do better than to attach a murderer—if Lord Neil has indeed attempted his nephew’s life.” Libbetty heard the waspish note in her own voice, but Edwina did not seem to notice. If Miss Bassett had such ambitions all along, it explained her defense of Lord Neil’s innocence.

  “Of course she would not marry him if he is revealed to be such a villain. She hopes he will be proven innocent.”

  Libbetty noticed Edwina had stopped insisting upon Lord Neil’s villainy, a departure from her previous stand.

  “I hope it turns out well, for her sake,” said Libbetty, mendaciously. Even if Lord Neil could be stopped from harming his nephew, through whatever means, such an evil person would make a miserable companion.

  “Has Lord Cauldreigh indicated he suspects his uncle’s designs on his life?” She could not investigate on her own, but she could question those who did have access to the Coltons.

  “We have never discussed such things.” Edwina’s tone was shocked, and Libbetty had to drop that line of inquiry.

  Chapter Seven

  After Sunday service, Neil and Trevor stopped to speak to the Hogwoods and Miss Bassett. Forcing an outward patience, Neil suffered Trevor’s eagerness to further his acquaintance in the neighborhood, now that he had recovered his strength.

  “Oh, Lord Cauldreigh, you are such a tease.” With a simper, Mrs. Hogwood playfully shook a finger at Trevor.

  “I assure you, madam, I am perfectly serious. I would never have guessed you could be the mother of such grown-up children.” Trevor nodded at Francis and Edwina.

  Mrs. Hogwood issued a girlish giggle. Her fawning manner irritated Neil, and her compliant offspring took their lead from her. Miss Hogwood was a pretty mantrap with no conversation, and Francis a dolt. Mr. Hogwood’s sour expression made Neil suspect the squire found his family’s company as tedious as he did.

  A middle-aged man and a young woman approached them, the woman hanging shyly back. Miss Bassett said, “Lord Cauldreigh, Lord Neil, I would like to introduce my father and sister to you.” She smiled and cast a coquettish, sidelong look at Neil.

  Startled, he gave Miss Bassett a narrow glance, realized he had missed Mr. Bassett’s hearty greeting. An unpolished stone, Mr. Bassett’s good humor made him appear a pleasant acquaintance. Miss Irene, his younger daughter, stared at the ground and scuffed her feet. With her, at least, he felt sure he need not suspect any attempt at matchmaking.

  Two middle-aged ladies hurried over to be presented, Misses Marble, spinsters who could never have been pretty even in their bloom. The younger one dressed in far too youthful a fashion.

  The elder one took advantage of the new acquaintance. “Dear Lord Cauldreigh and Lord Neil, you simply must call on us. Our mother’s health is too delicate to permit her to leave her home, but she would be most forlorn if she does not meet you. You know how welcome can be any little break in the monotony when you are mewed up in the house all the time.”

  Trevor, who had frequently expressed to Neil his intimate knowledge of such boredom, contrived not to hear Miss Marble’s appeal, and thus Neil was cornered into promising to call.

  He knew most of the villagers feared him, but gave an appearance of befriending him because of his status and fortune, and especially for his relationship to Trevor.

  He couldn’t blame the villagers when he had fostered their beliefs to trap Trevor’s assailant. So far, the only ones caught in his trap had been Miss Bishop and the Hayes boy. Clearly he had not been as clever as he thought. Now he was caught in that trap as well, unable to disclaim his evil intentions.

  He wished he could quit the company of the sycophantic crowd. However, the only fault Trevor appeared to find with the group was that Miss Bishop did not join it. He glanced toward the girl a few times, hurt in his eyes. He had avowed a tendre for the vivacious girl, and asked with wearisome regularity why she did not call upon him.

  Neil yielded to the desire to glance at Miss Bishop himself, and caught her staring at their group. The look of yearning in her huge blue eyes was unmistakable, and Neil suddenly realized she had been proscribed the company of the notorious Coltons. The irony nearly made him let loose a shout of laughter.

  He recalled the cool civility of the Mr. Bishop’s greeting to him after services, and his reluctance to present his daughter to Neil several weeks before. The sanctimonious tyrant.

  Undoubtedly he had worsened matters a fortnight ago when he pressed Miss Bishop to call upon Trevor. He imagined the forbidden but innocent pleasure of her rides in the forest with her friend, plotting to become acquainted with Trevor. But then he frowned as he recalled her midnight assault on The Castle.

  He shrugged inwardly. She deserved as much chance as the squire’s daughter to try to attach a title and fortune for herself. He must think of some way around the narrow-minded reverend.

  *

  Libbetty’s eyes hurt from the effort not to look at the Coltons. She longed to be in the laughing cluster around them, but she was chained to her mother. Mrs. Bishop spoke to various parishioners and waited for Papa to complete his obligations.

  Lord Cauldreigh detached himself from his party and walked up to her. “Miss Bishop, you have not called upon me in my invalid state. I have missed you.”

  She glanced at her mother, who quickly said, “A vicar’s daughter has many duties, my lord.”

  Libbetty presented her mother and the others who stood with them to Lord Cauldreigh. “Mrs. Baker is one of your tenants, and Mrs. Slidell lives in the village.” Privately, she wondered at her mother’s prevarication, for if she had not exactly lied to him, she hadn’t told him the full truth either.

  Lord Cauldreigh turned his charm on Mrs. Bishop. “Now that I have recuperated, perhaps I might call at the vicarage.”

  Libbetty’s mother averted her gaze and her complexion pinkened as she murmured, “All our parishioners are always welcome to call at the vicarage.”

  The marquess’s mouth dropped open.

  Mrs. Bishop said to Libbetty, “Come, let us go home. We have much to do this afternoon.” She called to the younger children, who were playing nearby, and herded them all back to the vicarage.

  Libbetty swiveled her head to look at Lord Cauldreigh, who had an unmistakable expression of hurt and dawning anger. She followed her mother in silence until the door was shut behind them. Unable to rein in her emotions, she burst out, “How could you say such things?
You lied to him!”

  “Children, go up to the nursery. I will join you shortly.”

  Floss and Mrs. Berkfield had Sunday afternoons off, and the younger children customarily spent the time in the drawing room with the family, engaged in quiet pursuits. They protested this unfair banishment, but Mrs. Bishop’s stern expression offered no relief of their sentence.

  The nursery door slammed behind the children, and Mrs. Bishop said, “Come into your father’s study, where we may be private.”

  Once they had seated themselves there, she said, “In the first place, your father would have something to say about your impertinence to me. It shows a want of respect that he would find disturbing. However, I shall ignore it this once, because I believe you are owed an explanation. I did not lie, merely avoided saying an unpleasant truth. I could not give offense.” She plucked at the fringe of her shawl, averting her eyes from Libbetty, a pink tinge in her cheeks.

  “But you did give offense. You did not see Lord Cauldreigh’s expression, as I did.”

  “That is unfortunate, but since he forced his attentions upon us, it could not be helped. Your father has a great dislike for those aristocrats who instead of using their wealth and power to help those less fortunate, use it to lead them to their ruin.”

  “I do not understand.”

  Mama flushed, her fingers moving faster upon the fringe. “You do not know the extremes of poverty to which many are reduced. When faced with starvation, they often agree to commit actions they would otherwise disdain. Many wealthy, idle persons use this desperation to indulge their own sins.”

  Libbetty frowned, more confused than ever. She tried to picture what sort of sins to which her mother was referring. Pride. Yes, the Coltons certainly had their share of pride. What came next? Envy. Certainly not. How could they envy anybody? They had more wealth and position than almost everyone. Gluttony. No, persons suffering from the sin of gluttony would probably be fat, and no one could say that of the Coltons. Lust… .

  She almost missed what her mother said next, coming to attention at the words “talk about men and women.”