by Susan Lodge
***
Brown studied Henry Avebury’s reaction. There was no doubt the horror of his son’s deeds had shaken the old man, and he did not feel inclined to injure him further. But he was going to kill his offspring very slowly and painfully.
He had to keep a step ahead of Guvere, though. He was not sure what words he had rambled in his illness, but he remembered Avebury’s name floating in and out of his senses. It was likely that was what had drawn him back to the land of the living.
It hadn’t been easy to pretend he was still unconscious during those last two days. He had lain with closed eyes, listening and planning, working out his surroundings, and then finally choosing his moment to escape the hospital.
He had put in place the necessary arrangements to make sure Guvere was given the information he had collected over the last years, but he had to deal with one bit of business personally.
This was something he had to finish himself, and now Henry Avebury was going to make it easier for him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I shall be gone for most of the day, Hetty. I have business with Sir Phillip Denby.”
Rose, you mean. Hetty tried unsuccessfully to shrug off her annoyance and her suspicions. Robert’s announcement caused her fears to resurface, especially as he had not suggested she accompany him. She tried very hard but couldn’t stop the blunt question from leaving her lips.
“Are you going to see Rose?”
Robert gave her an impatient look.
“Yes, it is likely that I will see her, of course, as she is at present staying with her father, but it is a business visit,” he emphasised.
She sat as stiff as the slice of toast she was fiercely buttering. The air was filled with a meaningful silence.
Handy brought in the post, including a letter addressed to Robert that instantly made Hetty forget her silent disapproval.
“That’s the Avebury seal,” she whispered. A cold finger climbed up her spine.
Robert frowned, ripped the seal and quickly read the letter. His frown turned into a smile.
“Good news, Hetty. Your father has given his consent for us to marry. He has instructed his solicitors that he would not contest the match. Upon our marriage, your inheritance will be released. He advises not delaying the ceremony and sends his best wishes to us both.”
Robert passed the letter over to her. Hetty felt a peculiar sense of unease. She was touched by her father’s good wishes. At last, he seemed to care about her happiness. Had he and Anthony finally given up hope of securing control of her money?
“It seems the next step is in your hands, Hetty,” Robert said gently. “You know I want us to be married, and your inheritance, of course, will be yours to do with as you wish. Think it over today, and we will discuss things further tonight.”
Hetty turned back to her toast. She should be happy now her inheritance and Robert were both offered to her. Her fortune she knew was hers. Robert’s love was a different matter.
***
After Robert left, Hetty filled her day with updates on the various projects he had instigated on the house. She made a thorough inspection of all the rooms, mentally noting where and what she might contribute in the way of advice on furnishings and colour schemes.
Of course, in her heart, she wanted this to be her home and Robert to be her husband. But the last few weeks had delivered so many shocks and so much heartache that she hardly dared to think of happy conclusions.
Once she had completed her review of the rooms, she settled down in the garden with a book, trying not to think of Robert in the same house as Rose, but she could not shake off her unease. After reading several pages but unable to absorb a sentence, she snapped the book shut and headed back to the house. She made her way to Robert’s study to return the book from where she had borrowed it.
The study at Longwood was a far more imposing room than the one in the town house. The original, ornately carved pieces of furniture had been cleaned and polished, and they gleamed in the sunlight. The smell of Robert’s cheroots mingled with beeswax and hung in the air like a signature.
She saw her father’s letter from that morning on the huge desk in the centre of the room. She wandered over, picked it up, and re-read it. She was still puzzled by her father’s change of heart and wondered if there was another scheme being cooked up. She put the letter back down on the desk and sat in Robert’s chair. Her eyes wandered the room, still trying hard to banish images of Robert and Rose rediscovering each other.
Desperate for something to occupy her, she decided to tidy the top of Robert’s desk. There were several layers of assorted documents and a glass pot with something that looked like a dissected ear in it. She shuddered, pulled the top drawer open, and dropped the offending object out of sight. She sorted the paperwork and notes into neat piles then tugged open the second drawer to put them away. The drawer was already filled with papers, and as she went to close it her eyes caught on a sheet with familiar, neat handwriting.
Her hand shook as she picked it up. She had last seen this handwriting back on the ship. She shouldn’t have read his letter then and certainly should not now. She wavered for only a second. The letter was dated yesterday.
Dear Robert,
Thank goodness you are back at Longwood. I feel much more at peace now you are near at hand. I will see you again tomorrow as arranged. I have decided to announce the news to Father, and I need to see you as soon as you can get away.
Anger ripped through her. Get away from what? Me, I suppose.
Hetty wanted to believe Robert, but why should he attend furtive meetings with Rose? She and her simpering letters – ten years and it seemed things had not changed. That woman still commanded him.
***
The longest morning drew into the longest afternoon, and by early evening there was no sign of Robert. Hetty changed for dinner and, preparing to face a miserable meal, she descended the main staircase.
The sound of a caller at the front door raised her spirits. She hurried down the remaining stairs, almost colliding with Handy who was attending to a young man Hetty did not recognise.
“What is it, Handy?”
“It’s one of the Denby footmen, miss. He has brought news of the doctor.”
Handy signalled to the caller to relay his message. The man stepped forward.
“Doctor Withington sends his respects, Miss Avebury, and regrets to inform you that he has been urgently summoned back to Portsmouth. He left directly from the Denby residence to save time and hopes to be back in a few days.”
“Is that it?” Hetty glared at the messenger.
“Yes, miss, that’s all. Just as I was told.” The man bowed, turned, and fairly fled from the house.
Hetty could not believe it – he was with Rose. The message was part of some plan to spend time with her. How dare they! Furious tears coursed down her cheeks. Why did everyone treat her like…like she hadn’t a heart? How could he deceive her so? He was her champion.
An hour later the tears finally stopped, and she was left feeling like someone had ripped out her insides, stamped on them, and put them back into the wrong places. She contemplated her next move. She would have to leave Longwood. She resumed her pacing.
No! She was through with leaving. This time she would not disappear, not without confronting the enemy first. She would visit the woman herself, not sit here like some sad wallflower while everyone schemed around her. Robert was hers and she was not going to give him up. Rose may be perfect but she had her chance ten years ago.
Robert – blast him – had already proposed to her. Hetty may not have given her answer to his proposal, but that was beside the point. She stalked across the room and threw open the door.
“Handy, get the coach around. We are going visiting.”
Handy ambled in muttering, “I ain’t used to females giving orders. I’m employed by the doctor and no one else.”
Hetty stared at him. “Get the bloody coach, Handy.”
Hetty smiled grimly as she entered the carriage minutes later – she had grown much better at managing staff during the last few weeks.
***
“Lady Grayston is not at home, madam.”
Hetty glared at the footman, knowing of course that not at home actually meant she was not receiving visitors.
“I will wait for her to return then.”
“Her ladyship is indisposed, miss, and it is late for callers. Perhaps you could make an appointment.”
Indisposed with Robert.
“Is she ill?” Hetty feigned concern.
The man gave her a frosty look, but she was used to servants and simply gave him her most haughty stare. “I insist you tell her that Miss Avebury is calling. My visit is urgent. I am sure she will see me.”
When he made no move, her patience snapped. She skirted around the man and marched toward where she thought the main receiving rooms would be situated. She would find the woman herself. She opened the door, half expecting the two culprits to be together.
The servant skipped alongside her. “Madam, I cannot have you entering rooms unannounced.”
Handy hovered behind them looking as if he had been dragged into a lion’s den.
Hetty was already on her way to check the next room. She opened the second door with a flourish – and stopped dead. Seated on a chair beside the window was the most beautiful vision of womanhood she had ever set eyes on.
So this was Rose! With a sinking heart, Hetty had to admit she did indeed look quite perfect.
Black bombazine never looked so gorgeous on a woman. She possessed a flawless ivory complexion, huge perfectly-shaped eyes, and a mane of hair that reflected shades of gold Hetty could only dream about. The woman looked beyond Hetty and raised an enquiring eyebrow to her agitated butler.
“Miss Avebury to see you, your ladyship,” he said tersely. “She insisted on interrupting your⏤”
Rose silenced him with a slight movement of her hand and looked at Hetty.
“May I help you, Miss Avebury?”
Her voice was polite, and Hetty suddenly felt rather foolish. She should have bothered to take some time with her appearance. She had worn one of her better gowns, a pale caramel silk, but she felt like she was in the shadow of a queen. Her confidence crumbled.
How could she compete with this? It was quite unfair how one woman could have a bucketful of beauty and others had to contend with tilted noses, wild hair, and freckles. Yet the woman was not hostile in her manner, as might be expected after a furious red-headed madwoman stormed into her drawing room. Hetty finally closed her gaping mouth and, remembering her manners, dropped into a curtsey.
“I am sorry about this intrusion, Lady Grayston, but I am looking for Doctor Withington. I have some rather urgent news for him.”
This was not a lie. She rather urgently wanted to slap him.
“Robert! I see…” She hesitated and raised her perfectly manicured hand to dismiss her butler. “Please take a seat, Miss Avebury. I have just prepared a pot of tea, and you are just in time to join me. How do you take yours?”
“Weak with sugar, please,” Hetty said faintly.
She hadn’t expected tea. The woman made her feel very uneasy. She accepted her tea and watched as her hostess prepared a cup for herself. Rose sipped and Hetty did the same, wondering whose turn it was to speak next.
Rose broke the silence. “I am afraid that you missed Doctor Withington. He was called back to Portsmouth rather urgently – perhaps it was the same urgent news that you have for him. I thought he sent word to you. I am sorry you have had a wasted journey. Did you not get the message?”
Hetty almost nodded then shook her head, deciding she needed to lie or she would be shown as a complete fool. Rose was watching her with a concerned look in her eye and Hetty wondered if she had got it all wrong. No! The evidence had been there. She wanted to tear through the house, opening every door until she found him. Yet, it wouldn’t be like Robert to hide.
“Miss Avebury, Doctor Withington has told me all about you. I am glad to have the opportunity to meet you, even if it is unscheduled.”
Hetty’s temper reignited and she scowled at her hostess. They had been discussing her, had they!
Rose frowned. “You look somewhat upset.”
“Excuse my directness, but why has Doctor Withington, my betrothed” – yes, he was that, even though she hadn’t precisely agreed to marry him yet – “found it necessary to visit you in somewhat clandestine circumstances?”
“Clandestine! Did you not know Robert was visiting my father today?”
Hetty hesitated for a moment. “He did mention he had business with your father.” Hetty sensed Rose relax until she added, “What he didn’t mention was the note you sent to him.”
Rose’s face suddenly lost a hint of beauty as she returned Hetty’s scowl.
“Do you read his private correspondence? It certainly was not meant for your eyes, Miss Avebury. It had nothing to do with you, unless you are employed as his professional assistant, and that is not how you were described to me.”
Hetty shot to her feet. “And just how was I described? As the sad gambler he felt honour-bound to protect while he carried on with the woman he really loves, the love that has tormented him for the last ten years?”
Hetty paced the room, her head reeling with pent-up frustration.
“Really, Miss Avebury, calm yourself. I have every belief that Robert is in love with you, and I understand that you are the one tormenting him by not yet accepting his proposal.” Rose stood and walked toward her, locking Hetty’s angry eyes with her own. “I do not know you, Miss Avebury, but I feel I have a duty to Robert to tell you the truth. But I require you to keep what I tell you to yourself. The fact is, Miss Avebury, that I am with child.”
Hetty felt like someone had slapped her. Rose was not so perfect after all.
“You are carrying Robert’s child?”
Rose’s voice turned icy. “It is not Robert’s, you stupid girl! How can you think that of him? Surely you realise he is in love with you. Good gracious, it is obvious to the rest of us.”
Hetty was taken aback, but at the same time felt relief flood over her. Rose returned to her seat and gestured Hetty to do the same.
“My husband was ill for a very long time before he died and I – well, I fell in love with another man. An honourable, good man. I know it must sound shocking to you, but he was a comfort to me – and it just happened.”
Hetty studied the woman in wonder. So Rose was far from perfect if she had betrayed a sick husband. But despite the shock, Hetty could not help but feel a little sympathy for Rose’s predicament. In fact, she found she could not dislike the woman at all. Hadn’t Rose just waylaid all her fears and given her the best news of her life? She felt like running over and embracing the woman. Instead, she sat straight-backed, trying to regain some grain of decorum, and listened keenly as Rose continued.
“After my husband died, I had to hide the pregnancy. My husband was barely capable of sitting, let alone…” She waved a hand. “Well, you know. There was no possibility of claiming the child was his. The whole affair had to be kept quiet. When I visited Robert I needed his professional help and his trust. My nephew had taken over as the new viscount, so I was able to make a timely exit from public life on the pretext of a prolonged stay with my father. The birth will be dealt with discreetly with Robert’s help, and after a suitable time has elapsed I will quietly wed my child’s father.”
Hetty breathed a sigh of contentment. Rose had a plan, and it did not involve marrying Robert Withington. Of course, she was still curious.
“Does the child’s father live close by?”
“No, he is with his regiment at the moment, but when he returns we will make a tactful exit to his family home in Yorkshire.”
Hetty prayed the man had the good fortune not to expire on the battlefield.
Rose cont
inued. “I have told my father. Robert helped me with that. He was not pleased – in fact he was outraged – but he has not condemned me and is not averse to a grandchild. So you see, Miss Avebury, Robert has been attending me as a physician. I asked him because I wanted the matter dealt with discreetly, and the pregnancy has not been easy so far. Robert is a very renowned physician, and as I was visiting him with Father a few weeks ago, I took the opportunity to enlist his help. The rather clandestine meetings, as you put it, were professional consultations, and of course, Robert would never betray a confidence – professional or otherwise.”
Hetty wanted to crawl under the carpet. “But I thought…your old letters to him sounded like you were very much in love.”
“You read all Robert’s letters?” She looked incredulous now. After a few seconds of silence, Rose took a deep breath and continued. “Ten years ago Robert and I were to be married. But then there was all the trouble with his father, and Robert went off to be a physician. Grayston came along, and I fell in love all over again. I wrote one last letter to Robert, telling him of my forthcoming marriage. Indeed, I am surprised you missed that one.”
Hetty was beginning to begrudgingly admire Rose. She had a rather sarcastic streak that she would never have imagined.
She frowned. “But Robert gave me the impression that your marriage to Lord Grayston was arranged.”
Rose’s voice wavered. “I led him to believe the marriage was one of convenience, and that I had been required to take a husband because I didn’t want him to feel rejected. I was too stupid to realise he might feel responsible for leaving me to an unpalatable match. Too stupid to realise he would feel he had failed me.”
Moisture glittered in Rose’s grey eyes as she continued. “I am glad he has fallen in love himself so he can see our relationship for what it was – what it is. You are a lucky woman, Miss Avebury. He is a fine man, and the truth is Robert loves you. He told me so.”