Garett cast her a gleaming glance. “That’s because the count knew Hampden provided his best source for court news in the city. Hampden always talked the man out of beating him by offering to tell him some juicy bit about his enemies no one else knew.”
Hampden smiled. “Ah, yes. I bribed him with gossip. I almost forgot. Of course, it helped I was sleeping with his enemies’ wives.” He shrugged. “At the time, it seemed a better way to get funds than working in the stables.”
Marianne’s face turned a brilliant red as she stared down at her soup.
It was Garett’s turn to chuckle. “So that’s how you got your ‘tales.’ I used to envy you that ability to find out all of the Paris court’s secrets. Now that I know—”
“You wish you’d been old enough to get a few of your own?” Hampden finished helpfully.
Garett gave him a mock threatening look. “I wish I’d put you onto the count’s wife. Then you might have lightened the load for both of us.”
“That sour-faced old—” Hampden broke off, as if he suddenly realized a lady was in the room. “Ah, but she hated you as much as her husband. Neither of them could stand your ridiculous pride. They thought to teach the barbarian Englishman a lesson. They loved your being a penniless nobleman. But it infuriated them you never broke under their beatings.”
Marianne’s throat constricted at the thought of a fourteen-year-old Garett being beaten. She couldn’t help asking the next question. “Were… were the beatings terrible?”
Garett shot Hampden a warning glance as he said, “No.”
Hampden raised both eyebrows. “I take it you haven’t shown her your back, or she’d know that was a lie.”
“It’s time we moved to more suitable topics of conversation,” Garett stated flatly, his eyes fixed on Marianne, who felt sicker by the minute.
Hampden shrugged, then launched into a witty description of the latest news from the English court. But Marianne no longer listened. Images of Garett being beaten flashed before her eyes, killing her peace.
She began to understand why he hated his uncle. Sir Pitney could have spared Garett those hard years, but he’d knowingly let his nephew remain penniless in France while he’d plundered the boy’s estates.
What had Garett said? “Only pain makes you strong.” Now she knew what had happened to the lighthearted boy his mother had spoken of. That boy had been killed, first by his parents’ brutal deaths and then by his uncle’s betrayal.
She glanced at Garett as he questioned Hampden idly about the court. It was a miracle he’d withstood it at all. Then there’d been his years as a soldier, which he refused even to talk about. No wonder he distrusted her.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar name on Hampden’s lips. “Winchilsea’s death set the town buzzing,” he said as he cut a piece of meat. “No one really believed the man to be guilty until he was killed.”
“You think he was innocent?” Garett asked, his expression oddly shuttered. “From what I’d heard, the poisoned medication stayed in his possession from the moment he left his home. Clarendon believes he might have been working with the Roundheads, and I’m inclined to agree. It’s just the sort of thing they’d do.”
“Who really knows? But I’m not convinced. Still, I’m one of only a few who’ve given him the benefit of a doubt. After he died, the gossips immediately tried and convicted the old man, since no one remained to prove him innocent. His daughter—”
“Daughter?” Garett’s eyes narrowed on her. “I didn’t know Winchilsea had a daughter.”
Cold fear gripped her heart, but she forced a measure of calm into her expression. “They say she killed herself after she heard of his arrest.”
“That’s right,” Hampden said as Garett continued to stare thoughtfully at her. “Threw herself into the Thames. Some even think she might have been involved in the poisoning.”
“Tell me, what was this daughter like?” Garett asked coolly.
Hampden sat back to wipe his mouth with his napkin. “Something of a recluse and quite plain, from what I was told. I gathered she didn’t like people.”
For once, she was glad that the court gossip was as patently false and cruel as usual. “Actually, Miss Winchilsea was painfully shy.”
“You knew her?” Garett asked, his gaze boring into her.
“Of course. I told you I knew her parents.”
“Why didn’t you mention her before?”
She made a dismissive gesture. “I didn’t know her well. She kept to her rooms, spoke to no one, and rarely interfered with my life. I’m not surprised she drowned herself. She was the type to faint at the sight of blood. I can well imagine how horrified she must have been to hear about her father’s arrest.”
Hampden snorted. “ ’Twas a silly thing to do. I could never see you, madam, throwing yourself into the Thames at such news. I wager it would never even enter your mind to do so.”
“Not Mina,” Garett said wryly.
She glanced at him, relieved when she noted no trace of suspicion in his expression. Between Hampden’s half-truths from court and her own fabrications, she’d kept him from guessing the truth, thank God. Yet how long could that last?
Hampden began to speak of the king’s newest mistress as Garett made outrageous quips about what Hampden said. Marianne listened, her anxiety growing. It confirmed what she’d already gathered—both men knew His Majesty very well.
Now more than ever she had to keep her identity secret. Garett clearly believed her father guilty and could easily believe the rumors about her involvement. If he ever learned who she was, he’d be quick to turn her over to the king. So no matter what the cost, that was one secret she had to keep from him.
Chapter Twelve
Trifles light as air
Are to the jealous confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ.
—Shakespeare, Othello
Four days later, Garett accompanied Hampden out the entrance to Falkham House, more pleased than he dared admit that his friend was leaving.
“Where’s your beautiful ‘prisoner’?” Hampden asked. “Didn’t she wish to see me off?”
“Mina’s been out all night, caring for a tenant’s wife who’s in childbirth,” Garett said as the groom walked Hampden’s horse up.
The wicked grin that crossed Hampden’s face irritated Garett enormously. “That’s a soft heart for you. Such a pity she couldn’t be here. I was so looking forward to snatching a parting kiss.”
Only with the greatest effort did Garett keep his face expressionless. “Then thank God she’s not here. It saves me the trouble of protecting her from your ill manners.”
“ ’Tis not my manners that bother you, and well you know it. You hate she’s taken a liking to me. And I to her.”
Damn him. “You take a liking to every woman who crosses your path.”
“Perhaps. But your little pigeon intrigues me more than most.”
Even knowing that Hampden was baiting him, Garett struggled not to lift the marquess forcibly onto his horse and send him off to London with a good kick in the arse.
Hampden apparently interpreted Garett’s somber silence correctly. “How couldn’t I be intrigued by the woman who’s managed to raise your ire… and your possessiveness. Never thought to see you act that way. ’Til now, you’ve been too busy with your plans for vengeance to take serious interest in any woman.”
Garett had reached his limit. “If you’re waiting for an explanation of my behavior, you might as well hie yourself off to London. How serious I am about Mina is none of your bloody affair.”
At Hampden’s broad grin, Garett realized just how truly obsessed with Mina he sounded. He gave Hampden a self-mocking smile. “Besides, you think making me jealous will torment me, but it won’t work.”
“Why not?”
“First, I know you flirt with her only to annoy me and not because you truly feel for her.”
Hampden suddenly grew serious. “And second?
”
Garett’s eyes searched his friend’s face. When he found there only genuine interest, he decided to tell the truth. “As much as your overtures to her may irritate me, they’re only a pinprick compared to the torment I endure every day she’s here without my being able to touch her.”
Hampden shook his head. “You’re a fool not to have made her yours the moment you laid eyes on her. As for your first reason—you misread me, Garett. If I thought I had a genuine chance of stealing her affections, you can be certain I’d attempt it.”
“You’ve never fought me for a woman before.”
“True. And I probably never will. Unless you decide to toss away Mina’s heart. Then, dear friend, I’ll be more than glad to step in and comfort her.”
That image disconcerted Garett. He glanced away. “You assume she has a heart, and that she’d offer it to me.”
Hampden mounted his horse and took up the reins, then stared down at Garett, his laughing green eyes solemn for once. “Oh, she has a woman’s heart, that’s certain. If you weren’t so determined to delve into her ‘deep, dark past,’ you’d realize it. As for whether she’d offer it to you—that remains to be seen. I imagine that if you continue to persecute her, she won’t. That would be a great loss for you, Falkham.” He gave a half smile. “And a gain for me.”
Without another word, Hampden turned the horse and prodded it into a trot. He didn’t even glance back as he rode away.
Garett felt an odd relief. He’d lied to Hampden about jealousy not affecting him. Hampden’s overtures to Mina had cut like a knife.
Especially given her response. During Hampden’s stay, Mina had met the marquess’s wicked sallies with teasing rebuffs that had bordered on flirtation. It had driven Garett mad, no matter how much he’d told himself it had all been harmless. Despite his words to the contrary, Hampden was loyal to his friends and had recognized that Garett wouldn’t like his toying with Mina.
Garett wasn’t so certain of Mina, however. With Hampden, she became a sparkling, delightful creature, her cares temporarily forgotten. She extended that cheeriness to Garett occasionally, but only because Hampden was there and drew it out of her. Garett hated that. Damn it, but he wanted to be the one to make her eyes shine.
He turned back to the manor, furious that he was letting it matter so much to him. Of course he wanted her. That was understandable. Her sweet form and daring spirit would entice any man. But his desire for her mustn’t become more than that. If he allowed her to wheedle her way into his emotions, she’d take advantage of it.
For God’s sake, she might even have ties to his damned uncle!
He suddenly saw her in his mind’s eye, standing with her hair unbound, explaining to Hampden the difference between a toadstool and an edible mushroom. Her expression of pure delight in her subject had given him pause. She didn’t act like a calculating spy.
Abruptly, Garett wheeled away from the house and strode for the stables. He was tired of not knowing who she was. His questions and gruff manner hadn’t intimidated her, hadn’t wounded her as he’d hoped they would, making her throw herself into his arms and confess all.
Instead they had thrown her into the arms of Hampden.
Time to change tactics.
Garett saddled and mounted Cerberus. Mina had responded to his kisses before. She’d do so again. Somehow he’d seduce her into telling him her true identity.
He snorted. Seduce her into telling her secrets. What an absurdity! He couldn’t touch the damned woman and keep his wits about him, much less maneuver her into telling him anything of substance.
He rode off toward the tenant’s home where Mina had gone. No, he didn’t want to seduce her for anything more than the most basic reason, that he desired her. That was certainly reason enough.
As he neared the tenant’s house, he heard the soft, mewling cries of a newborn. Good, soon she’d be ready to return with him.
He dismounted, his gaze going to the guard he’d placed on her. “The babe has come?”
“Aye.” The guard was a man of few words.
Garett joined him beneath an oak, watching the entrance to the wattle-and-daub cottage. “How long ago?” Mina had left Falkham House shortly after dinner the night before.
“No more than an hour.”
So she’d only just finished. She was sure to be exhausted. He leaned against the oak, training his gaze on the door.
He hadn’t waited long when Mina stepped out to stand on the threshold. With a weary sigh, she brushed several damp tendrils of hair from her face. She rubbed her arms and shoulders as her gaze went to the guard. Then she spotted Garett.
“Is the babe well?” he asked.
She gave a rueful smile. “Just like a man, he was stubborn even during his birthing. I had to work a bit to coax him from the womb.”
“And the mother? Did she survive?”
Surprise flickered across her face. “Better than expected, under the circumstances.”
“Good. Her husband’s a fine man. He’ll need her to care for the child when he tends his fields.”
“I imagine that he’ll need her for other things as well,” she said dryly. “Believe it or not, some men depend on their wives for more than just raising their children.”
“True. Inasmuch as this is their second child in as many years, I suspect her husband won’t give her long before he depends on her for… ah… more important duties.”
Mina’s cheeks pinkened considerably. Then she tilted up her chin as if to say she was far too dignified to respond to his comments. But when he chuckled, she didn’t quite succeed in keeping a smile from curving up her mouth.
The tenant whose wife had just given birth stepped out of the doorway, capturing Mina’s attention. He didn’t seem to notice Garett standing in the shadows of the oak.
“I’m coming,” Mina told the man and started to go back into the cottage.
“Nay,” the tenant protested. “Time for you to go ’ome and get y’r rest. You done enough already. Me wife’s sister will take care of her right and proper now that you did the ’ard part.” He grabbed Mina’s hands. “ ’Tis a beautiful babe, and we’re mightily beholden to you for it. Y’r mother’d be right proud of you, she would, if she was alive to see it.”
Garett narrowed his gaze on Mina. She blanched, then jerked her head ever so slightly in Garett’s direction. Following her movement, the tenant looked over and started when he saw Garett standing there.
The man dropped Mina’s hands. “P’raps I’d best go back and see ’ow me wife is comin’ along,” he muttered as his face turned almost purple. Quickly he walked back into the cottage, nearly tripping over the threshold in his attempt to get himself out of sight.
A long silence ensued, during which Mina avoided Garett’s gaze. “I-I’d best look in on her myself,” she murmured and turned back to the cottage.
“No,” Garett ordered, pushing himself away from the tree. “You’re exhausted. Anyone can see that. You should return with me to the manor.”
“I’m not—”
“You heard the man. They don’t need you here any longer.” He strode quickly to her side.
She gazed up at him as if trying to determine what he thought of the tenant’s words. When Garett merely matched her stare, she turned her face away, her shoulders stiffening.
“Whatever questions you have,” she said with quiet dignity, “you might as well ask now.”
Garett cocked his head in the direction of the guard, who stood under the oak. Mina sighed, then let Garett lead her to his horse. He swung her up into the saddle, mounting behind her.
As they moved off, he could feel the rigidity in her body as she attempted to hold herself apart from him.
“Well?” she asked when they were a good distance from the cottage.
Though broaching the subject was bold of her, the anxious note in her voice betrayed her fear. Good, he thought coldly. It was time she realized how serious he was about discovering her identit
y.
“It’s an odd circumstance, don’t you think, that everyone seems to know your mother?” he asked.
“No, not at all. We gypsies are like mice. We creep into everyone’s barns at one time or another.”
He lowered his head until his mouth was beside her ear. “ ‘Creep’ is a good choice of words, Mina. Now tell me exactly when you and your mother first ‘crept’ into Lydgate. You implied that you only came here after she and your father died.”
She jerked her head forward, away from his lips. She remained silent, but he could see her hands clench the pommel.
“Your refusal to tell me what I wish to know tires me,” he clipped out. “Until now I’ve kept this between you and me and your aunt. That has gained me naught. Perhaps it’s time I called upon the good citizens of Lydgate.”
“Wh-what for?” she stammered, her shoulders not quite so erect.
“Clearly they know more than they’ve led me to believe. I doubt they’ll be as reluctant to spill the truth when the neighboring earl brings pressure to bear on them.”
She twisted in the saddle to gaze back at him with alarm in her eyes. “Why must you involve them? They don’t know anything of use to you. Don’t you think they’d have told you if they had?”
He halted the horse and dropped the reins to close his hands on her shoulders. “No, I don’t. I’ve seen how they are with you. They’re so grateful for your medicines and healing that they’d not deliberately cause you harm.”
She wriggled free of his grip, then lifted her leg over the horse’s head and slid to the ground. With a fierce expression, she began walking toward the manor. He rode beside her, watching as she trod the road with deliberation.
“If they know nothing,” he asked as he kept pace beside her, “why do you fear their involvement?”
“I don’t fear it! But I know you quite well by now, my lord. You’ll pound them with questions they can’t answer. And when they don’t tell you what you wish to hear, you’ll torment them until they say something—anything—to placate the angry earl. Who can say what a people beset with fear will blather?”
By Love Unveiled Page 14