by Sandra Heath
“Perhaps I see what is there to see, madam!” he snapped. “You have just admitted to me that your reason for holding your tongue about what happened at the inn was because you sympathized with an adulterous wife! Am I right in my analysis of your statement?”
There was nothing she could say, for when he put it like that, yes, she had so sympathized.
“You offer no alternative explanation, Miss Maitland?”
“Nothing that would make any difference.”
He surveyed her for a long moment, his eyes dark with anger, then he drew a long breath. “Very well, your story is that Jamie and Emma are lovers. What bearing can that possibly have upon the theft of the jewel box?”
Lauren didn’t quite know where to start.
“I’m waiting, Miss Maitland,” he said with exaggerated patience.
“I will put it as succinctly as I can, sir. Your brother is not only in financial straits at the moment, he is also very much under Lady Fitzsimmons’s influence, and she isn’t at all what she appears to be. Far from being your friend’s legal wife, it appears she is bigamously married to him.”
Rory gave an incredulous laugh. “Your inventiveness goes from strength to strength,” he murmured.
“As does your capacity for determined resistance to the truth, sirrah,” she countered swiftly.
“The truth, Miss Maitland, this convoluted yarn is a work of complete fiction! Now, if you have more to add to your so-called explanation, I wish you would do so,” he snapped.
“I was endeavoring to do so. As I was saying, Lady Fitzsimmons isn’t Lady Fitzsimmons at all, but a certain Mrs. du Maurier, who is being sought by the authorities because she and her recently deceased husband ran a crooked gaming hall in Brighton. But when he was arrested, she escaped. It seems that your brother is perfectly well aware of all this.”
His eyes were very cold and bright. “I will not believe it,” he breathed.
“Lady Fitzsimmons has had cause to fear that her past is about to be exposed, and so she wishes to run away and start a new life. Your brother wishes to do the same in order to be free of his debts. They decided to go together, and to use your mother’s jewels for funds, a suggestion which was apparently first put to them by Lady Maxby.”
“Isabel? Oh, come now—”
“Lord Glenvane, I am trying to tell you everything you need to know, so please allow me to do so. As I was saying, the plan was originally Lady Maxby’s, her motive being that she wishes to compromise me beyond all hope of redemption, a purpose in which she has apparently succeeded beyond her wildest hopes. But it seems that your brother was suffering pricks of conscience, both over his liaison with Lady Fitzsimmons and over his betrayal of your trust. But she dominates him, and last night persuaded him to proceed with the plan because she is afraid that Alex will remember having seen her once at the gaming hell in Brighton. She is right to so fear, because he has remembered, and that is why Hester and I went to Lord and Lady Fitzsimmons’s room last night during the ball to search for any evidence about Mrs. du Maurier.”
“Why didn’t Alex see fit to say anything to anyone else? To Fitz, or maybe even to me?”
“He wasn’t sure enough for that. He read in a newspaper that Mr. du Maurier had died in prison, and his memory was jogged.”
“In other words, he thought he saw a resemblance between Lady Fitzsimmons and this du Maurier woman, but that is all?”
“He was sure the two were one and the same, but he couldn’t swear upon a Bible, if that is what you mean.” Lauren raised her chin slightly. “I’m not inventing any of this, Lord Glenvane. You may ask Alex if you wish.”
“Oh, I will, believe me, for he is so far your only apparent proof of anything. Until now you’ve only offered Hester, who isn’t in any state to say or do anything. Very well, we’ve got as far as searching the room. What happened then?”
“While we were there, Lady Fitzsimmons and your brother came in, and Hester and I had to hide. We overheard everything they said, and that is how I am able to relate it all now. It came as no real surprise to me that the jewel box is missing, for the business with my reticule had forewarned me. The locket found its way into my possession by nefarious means, Lord Glenvane, but mine was not the hand behind it. Your brother and Lady Fitzsimmons stole the jewel box and removed the locket for Lady Maxby. She then put the locket in my reticule to blacken me in your eyes. She believes she can win you back, and maybe she can, for in truth I now realize that I know you as little as you say you know me. As to the rest of the jewels, you may count upon it that they are in the cabriolet with your brother and Lady Fitzsimmons, who are most certainly not merely out for a pleasant drive. They have run away, sir, as you will very soon discover.”
Rory stared at her and then gave a dry laugh. “Miss Maitland, I saw them leave, and they certainly didn’t have sufficient baggage with them to commence a new life.”
“They aren’t fools, sirrah. They need all the time they can win, and that is why they have gone along with the part of the plan which incriminates me. While the finger of suspicion is directed toward me, they are in the clear, are they not? And what need do they have for baggage? They have the jewels, and as soon as they reach Glasgow they can purchase whatever they require.”
He faced her across the room. “May I ask why you were so intent upon exposing Lady Fitzsimmons?”
Lauren looked away. Should she tell him about Mary and Fitz?
“Well?” he prompted.
“Because if Lady Fitzsimmons’s marriage is bigamous, Lord Fitzsimmons would be a free agent, and that would be of immense importance to him and to the person he really loves.”
“Who?” he demanded.
She shook her head. “I’m not going to tell you that, sirrah, for the confidence isn’t mine to tell, but if you think about it, perhaps the identity of that person will dawn upon you, although I doubt it, since you are apparently blinkered even when the truth stares you in the face!”
“I have certainly been blinkered where you are concerned, madam!” he replied acidly.
“And I where you are, sirrah!” she fired back. Anger surged through her now. He was quite determined not to believe anything she said, and no matter how convincing an explanation she offered, he would continue to accuse her of lying!
“How have I deceived you, madam? Have I forgotten to mention a betrothed? Maybe there is someone in Edinburgh who has conveniently slipped my mind for the time being?”
“How frequently you resort to sarcasm, sir. I haven’t forgotten anyone, for there is no one to forget.”
“No? Then Sir Richard was mistaken after all? He misunderstood completely when you told him about your fiancé in Boston, and the forthcoming marriage in the New Year?”
“No, he wasn’t mistaken, for that is indeed what I said to him, but it was said with a view to getting rid of him. He was pestering me; indeed, I feared he was about to ask for my hand, and so I forestalled him by inventing both a fiancé and a wedding.”
He was contemptuous. “Oh, I can almost believe that, Miss Maitland, for invention is most certainly your forte! I vow you exult in it!”
“As you wallow in the role of the injured husband, sirrah! You hug it to you like a hair shirt, to remind yourself all the time of how badly you were treated. Poor Lord Glenvane, deceived by his monstrously unfaithful wife and left to lick his wounds ever after. It’s set to be your eternal excuse for everything, a revered relic to be dragged out when things don’t go quite as you wish, and will serve as a timely reminder that everyone must tread carefully for fear of wounding your sensitivities. Ah yes, dear star-crossed Rory, we must always bear his sad past in mind, for he suffered so very much. Let him be rude, arrogant, overbearing, unapproachable, impossibly stubborn, and bigoted in the extreme, for his failings are understandable after what was so foully done to him!”
The angry recriminations spilled from her lips, and when she’d finished she was so aghast that she closed her eyes. She shouldn’t ha
ve said all that.
There was a deafening silence, and then he turned and walked to the door. “I don’t believe there is anything more to be said, do you? While your cousin is still so ill, I have no objection to your remaining here, but I’d be obliged if you’d leave Glenvane as soon as possible after her recovery.”
“Nothing would induce me to remain here, sir,” she whispered, turning away so that he couldn’t see her tears.
The door closed behind him and Lauren hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she wept silently. Six years ago her life had been left in fragments by losing Jonathan. Now it had happened again, only this was far, far worse. Rory was lost to her as sure as Jonathan had been, but she would suffer the pain of knowing that she had lost him because of the lies and machinations of others. And because of her own unguarded tongue.
Suddenly she knew she couldn’t stay at Glenvane a moment longer, not even for Hester, who would soon be well again anyway. No, it would be best if this place and its master were put into the past without delay. Lauren looked out of the window toward Ben Vane. There was still cloud swirling around the summit, but the storm had held off for so long now that she was sure it wouldn’t come at all. If she took a portmanteau and a good horse, she could reach the Crown & Thistle before the afternoon was out. It was hazardous, but not beyond her riding capabilities, and it would spare her the pain of Isabel’s gloating triumph and Rory’s cold contempt. Hester would understand.
Gathering her skirts, she hurried from the room. Her mind was made up. She’d spent her last night at Glenvane Castle. Tonight she would sleep at the Crown & Thistle, and tomorrow she’d hire one of the inn’s chaises to commence the return journey to London, where she would arrange passage for Boston on the earliest available ship.
Chapter 20
Her decision irrevocably made, Lauren remained in the solar only long enough to have recovered her aplomb sufficiently to put on a brave face, and then she hurried back to her room, where she found Peggy engaged upon repairing the torn hem of a muslin morning gown.
The startled maid listened in dismay to her mistress’s plan. “Leave?”
“Yes.”
“But—”
“I don’t intend to explain, Peggy, for it’s too long a story. Nor do I intend to change my mind, so please do not attempt to persuade me. I’m leaving Glenvane right now, and that is the end of it.” Lauren turned for the maid to begin undoing her gown.
Peggy hesitated, but then reluctantly reached up to the fastenings. “How long do I have to pack, Miss Lauren?”
“We won’t be packing, Peggy, for I’m going on my own. All I’ll need is the small portmanteau, for it can be hung over my saddle and won’t be seen beneath my cloak. I want everyone to simply think I’ve gone out for a ride.” Lauren looked away. If the ploy was good enough for Jamie and Emma, then it was good enough for her as well…
Peggy was now thoroughly alarmed. “You’re riding, Miss Lauren?” she gasped.
“I’m perfectly capable, Peggy; I did it often enough at home.”
“Yes, but you knew the countryside there.” Peggy glanced out of the window at the lowering skies and cloud-enveloped mountains.
“I know this countryside sufficiently. I simply have to follow the route the carriages took to come here, and once I’m at the Crown & Thistle I shall hire a chaise. With luck I should be in Dumbarton, or maybe even Glasgow, by nightfall. As to the weather, it’s been like this since first light without deteriorating, and I see no reason why it should suddenly do anything different now.”
“Please take me with you, Miss Lauren.”
“No, Peggy, for you can’t ride.”
“Then take Mr. Kingston’s traveling carriage,” the maid suggested desperately.
“And how will I accomplish that without everyone knowing? Mr. Kingston’s coachman is hardly likely to obey my instructions without first checking with his master. Peggy, there is nothing to be gained by arguing further, for I will not be moved on this. I’m going to ride to the inn, and that is the end of it. And you aren’t going to tell anyone until I’m well on my way. Is that clear?”
The maid colored a little, for she had decided privately that the moment her mistress had set off on this ill-advised ride, she would raise the alarm. “But…but what of me, Miss Lauren? What will happen to me?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Kingston will take care of you, and if you tell them that I wish you to follow with all my belongings, they will see that you do. As to your plans after that…”
“Plans, Miss Lauren?”
“Your London footman,” Lauren reminded her.
Peggy lowered her eyes.
Lauren managed a smile. “Don’t look so crestfallen, Peggy, for if you wish to remain in England, I have already said that I will understand. And if you decide to return to Boston, then that will be acceptable as well. For the moment, however, my own plans are that I am going to leave this place and its master, and nothing will change my mind. I want your word that you won’t say anything until I am long gone.”
“Miss Lauren—”
“Your word on it, Peggy,” Lauren demanded.
“Yes, madam,” the maid replied, but her fingers were crossed behind her back.
“Then let’s get on with it, for I wish to be free of this place as quickly as possible.”
Peggy’s lips parted to protest again, but then she caught her mistress’s savage eye and fell silent. Nothing more was said as Lauren’s gown slithered to the floor, and the maid went to bring the riding habit from the wardrobe.
* * *
After the savage accusations and reproaches of his parting with Lauren, Rory had gone out into the gardens to try to cool his fury. He was still trembling with bitterness as he reached the well and sat down. Running his fingers through his hair, he drew a long breath and then gazed up at the clouds mushrooming so darkly overhead. What a fool he’d made of himself over Lauren Maitland. Against all the odds, he had made the same mistake twice.
But as he closed his eyes, he was with her again on Holy Island. She was so warm and pliable in his arms, and her kisses had been made in heaven itself. Surely she had meant every loving word and sweet caress? Surely not even Mrs. Siddons could have played such a convincing role? He didn’t want to believe ill of Lauren—in fact, the very opposite was the case—but he’d paid a savage price in the past for trusting unwisely.
He opened his eyes again, his gaze drawn to the grille over the well. Her locket lay somewhere down there, but the question was, had it fallen by accident or had it been deliberately thrown? It had to be admitted that Isabel was quite capable of such an act. She would stoop to many a devious ploy in order to have her own way.
He leaned back thoughtfully. Isabel had accused Lauren of stealing the entire jewel box, and he, in his anger and hurt, had believed it too, but what possible reason did Lauren have for taking anything? She was a wealthy woman, she had no need for funds, and if replacing what had been lost was so important to her, then all she had to do was wait until she became Countess of Glenvane, and the second locket would have been hers anyway. No, Lauren didn’t have any reason for such a theft. But maybe Jamie and Emma did. What if Lauren’s story about Mrs. du Maurier were true? If so, Emma most definitely needed a small fortune in order to run away and live her new life in luxury. She was a woman with expensive tastes and nothing less would do. And what if Jamie were indeed under her spell? He was impressionable enough to succumb to a stronger will, and Emma certainly possessed that. And if, as Lauren claimed, the plan had been hatched when Jamie had still to learn that he would again be bailed out of debt, then he had also had a need for instant funds.
Getting up, Rory began to walk back to the castle. Lauren had said that Alex knew something, and so that was where the questioning would begin. If Lauren were telling the truth, then the sooner he got to the bottom of it all, the better.
He was to find he could question Hester as well as Alex, for she had just awoken and was propped
up on a mound of pillows. The dreadful queasiness had subsided and it seemed that the revenge of the Crown & Thistle was at last in retreat. She was pale and wan, but felt much improved as she sipped a welcome dish of tea and spoke to Alex, who was seated on the edge of the bed holding her hand. They both looked up in surprise as Rory came swiftly in.
He paused as he came face to face with both of them, for he knew that their replies now would either confirm everything Lauren had said, or damn her forever. He wanted her to be vindicated—dear God, how he wanted that—but he was so afraid that she really had failed him in every way…
Seeing his hesitancy, Alex got up from the bed. “What is it, Rory? Is something wrong?”
“Yes, I fear it is, Alex.”
Hester looked curiously at him. “Can we help, Rory?”
He paused, and then looked at Alex. “What can you tell me about Fitz’s wife and an article you read in a newspaper?”
Alex cleared his throat, and then glanced uncomfortably at Hester.
Rory looked quizzically at him. “Well?”
“Look, Rory, it may be something, and it may be nothing. It’s just that I’m pretty sure that Emma Fitzsimmons is the same woman I saw at a gaming hell in Brighton.”
“Du Maurier’s place?”
“Yes. You remember the furor?”
“It was a notorious enough scandal at the time. I gather you believe that du Maurier’s missing wife and Fitz’s wife are one and the same?”
Alex nodded. “Yes. Well, as you probably remember me saying at our dinner in London, from the moment I met her with Fitz, I’ve had the oddest feeling I’d seen her somewhere before, but I couldn’t recall where. Then, when I came here, I read the newspaper article regarding Mr. Du Maurier’s recent death in prison, and suddenly I remembered. Look, I can’t swear upon oath, but I’m convinced that my suspicions are correct, and if they are, then she can’t possibly be Fitz’s legal wife.” Alex drew a long breath. “You see my dilemma, do you not? If I say anything, then I am obliged to accuse her of bigamy and the Lord knows what else, and I don’t want to jeopardize my friendship with Fitz.”