I smiled, amused at her pretended outrage. She would have been much more outraged, I knew, had George not tried to molest her.
“I ’appen to know ’e was in th’ village day before yesterday,” Susie continued. “’E was at th’ jewelers’, pricin’ plain gold rings. Bob told me about it—Bob’s one of th’ grooms, an’ ’e an’ George are thick as thieves. I reckon I’ll be gettin’ that ring any day now,” she added.
“You said you were looking for me,” I reminded her.
“Oh yes. Th’ old—uh—Lord Mallyn, ’e wants you to come to ’is room right away. I was passin’ down th’ ’all, mindin’ my own business, when ’e flung th’ door open an’ poked ’is ’ead out, glarin’ at me with those eyes. It gave me such a start! ’E said for me to fetch you. I declare, now that ’e’s up an’ about ’e’s worse than ever—”
Lord Mallyn was indeed in a testy mood, complaining because his breakfast had been late, his valet had been all thumbs, his boots hadn’t been properly glossed and that wretched dog, Ching, had had an accident all over one of his best Persian carpets. Wearing a dark brown suit and embroidered plum waistcoat, topaz and turquoise rings on his fingers, he bustled about like an irritable grasshopper, complaining bitterly and paying me no mind at all. Although his illness was firmly behind him, he still needed a great amount of rest, and the spurts of excessive nervous energy invariably left him weak and depleted. I waited patiently, standing in front of one of the vivid Chinese screens, examining the brass and jade ornaments on the table beside me. Lord Mallyn finally stopped bustling and fixed me with an angry stare, his brows lowered fiercely.
“Took your own sweet time gettin’ here,” he snapped. “I get no cooperation, none whatsoever! I’m surrounded by incompetents! Just because I’ve been ill and out of commission for a few weeks everyone thinks they can run right over me, ignore my orders, make cheeky remarks—”
“You wanted to see me?” I interrupted.
“Why else would I send for you!”
I gave him a long, cool look, totally unperturbed. “If you’re going to shout, Lord Mallyn, I’ll leave. I have no intentions of being bullied by a nasty-tempered old man.”
Lord Mallyn glared at me as though on the verge of apoplexy, and then the fierceness vanished and he looked thoroughly delighted, emitting a dry, raspy chuckle that caused the three Pekinese to burrow under the bed covers in alarm. The old man grinned, regarding me with adoring eyes.
“Ah, Jenny, you do know how to set me down,” he said fondly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I—I do wish you wouldn’t keep saying that.”
“Why shouldn’t I? It’s perfectly true. If it hadn’t been for you—” He paused, frowning. “I have a confession to make, girl: I was much sicker than I ever let on. I was damn near the point of death, and, like a ruddy old fool, I refused to obey the doctors’ orders. I wouldn’t take my medicine, I insisted on havin’ my port, no one could do a thing with me. If you hadn’t come when you did, if you hadn’t defied me and forced me to take my medicine and give up my port and do what the doctors said—”
“That’s nonsense,” I told him.
“I know what I’m talkin’ about!” he said crossly. “If I’d kept on at the rate I was goin’ I’d already be six feet under. You’re responsible for my recovery, girl, you and you alone.”
“That’s rather an exaggeration, Lord Mallyn.”
“Don’t contradict me!” he snapped. “I think I know a bit more about it than you do. You’re an exasperating vixen, totally disrespectful, totally infuriatin’, but I owe you a great deal. Don’t go makin’ faces! It’s the truth—you think I’d admit it if it weren’t?”
“I think this conversation has become a bore. I’ve got better things to do than—”
“There’s something I want you to have,” Lord Mallyn interrupted. “I was prowlin’ around the room this morning, opening drawers, looking at some of my treasures, and I found something—”
Lord Mallyn moved nimbly across the room, pulled open the drawer of a tall ebony cabinet inlaid with mother-of-pearl and, poking about irritably, finally located a small, dusty bag rather like a woman’s reticule. Nodding with satisfaction, he slammed the drawer shut and came back over to where I was standing, swinging the bag by its worn drawstring. The contents clattered noisily as he moved.
“Got ’em in India—must-a been thirty years ago. Clean forgot I had ’em. Here, take a look!”
There was a gleam of anticipation in his eyes as he thrust the bag into my hands. It was surprisingly heavy, as though filled with rocks. I sat down in one of the worn Chippendale chairs and, holding the bag in my lap, struggled with the drawstring. It was tied tightly, the knot almost impossible to loosen. Lord Mallyn stood watching me, a wicked grin on his face, and I knew he must have re-tied the knot this way just to aggravate me. I threw him an irritable look and continued to struggle, and the knot finally gave. I shook the bag. Chunks of glittering green fire spilled heavily into my lap. I stared, too stunned to speak.
“Belonged to a Rajah,” the old man informed me. “I did a little piece of business for him—nothing illegal, mind you, but it saved him a considerable amount of embarrassment. He gave me these as—uh—a token of his esteem. I figure you’ll want to have ’em set into a necklace. Well, don’t just sit there, girl! Say something!”
I stared down at the lapful of emeralds, emeralds that sparkled with green and blue-green flames, vividly snapping fires that would surely burn one’s fingers if touched. The smallest were the size of peas, the largest as large as grapes. They slipped and rolled over my skirt, glittering with incredible brilliance.
“Well!” he cried, bristling with impatience.
“I—I couldn’t accept them,” I stammered.
“Stuff and nonsense! Of course you can! Vanessa got the family diamonds, Sarah’s emerald necklace, the rubies. She went through the collection like a greedy child, grabbin’ up everything in sight. It amused me to let her have ’em—baubles, didn’t mean a thing to me after Sarah’s death. I never let on about these, though. They’re worth more than all the rest put together. You’ll take ’em and be grateful!”
“I can’t, Lord Mallyn.”
“Dammit, girl! Must you always try to thwart me! I told you, Vanessa got the others. These are yours by right!”
I looked down at the flashing, sparkling green splendor in my lap, and I shook my head. I was touched by his gesture, so touched there were tears in my eyes, but I couldn’t accept the stones. There were so many reasons why I couldn’t accept them. Never before since I had arrived at Mallyncourt had I felt so treacherously dishonest. I had deliberately come here to deceive this marvelous old man, and he wanted to repay my treachery with emeralds. One by one, I dropped them back into the bag. Lord Mallyn glared at me with an appalled expression. I re-tied the drawstring, composed now, the tears forced back.
“What are you doing!” he exclaimed. “Blast you, Jenny! You’re the most infuriating minx I ever clapped eyes on! You’re going to accept those emeralds, you hear! You’re going to keep every last one of ’em!”
“You’re wrong,” I said.
I stood up. I set the bag on top of the ornate teakwood table nearby. Lord Mallyn seemed about to dance a jig, his eyes flashing angrily. I met his infuriated glare with a calm, level gaze. I had wronged him, I had wronged everyone at Mallyncourt through my deception, and I resolved now to make up for it. As Edward’s true wife, I would be in the position to do so. I could continue to look after Lord Mallyn. I could continue my work with Lettice. Perhaps I could even help eliminate the contention and rivalry between the two cousins. Perhaps out of all this deception and dishonesty some good might come.
Lord Mallyn scowled. His anger vanished. He shook his head.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” I said.
“I think I understand, Jenny.” His voice was quiet, his expression grave now. He frowned slightly,
staring down at the carpet. “I’m an old fool full of bluster and brass, selfish, cantankerous, thoroughly miserable to be around. Everyone thinks I’m going through my second childhood, but I still have my wits, I’m still able to put two and two together. When Edward left Mallyncourt some weeks ago, it was with the express purpose of finding himself a wife, someone who would please me, impress me, influence me to draw up the will in his favor. I knew that, and I wasn’t at all surprised when he brought you back—”
He paused, looking up at me. I was extremely uncomfortable, but I didn’t look away.
“Yours wasn’t a love match,” he continued. “That was obvious from the first. I’ve no doubt the marriage was little more than a bargain struck up between the two of you—you both had much to gain. Edward must have explained everything, told you what you must do. Am I right? Yes, I can see that I am. Well, Jenny, you’ve done your job—you’ve done it damned well. Despite any ulterior motive you may have had for agreeing to marry my nephew, you’ve proven yourself worthy over and over again. You can fake a lot of things, but you can’t fake sincerity, you can’t fake genuine concern. You’ve given a doddering old man a new lease on life, and I appreciate it. I bloody well intend to show my appreciation, too!”
“I won’t take the emeralds, Lord Mallyn.”
The old man grinned. It was a wicked, mischievous grin. “I know that. I knew you wouldn’t even before I offered ’em to you. You might say the emeralds were a final test—you passed with flyin’ colors, girl. You proved I was right about you. You’re going to get a damn sight more than emeralds, Jenny—that’s a promise.”
“Lord Mallyn, there—there’s something I want to tell—”
“I don’t want to hear another word! There’s nothing you could tell me that’d change my mind now, girl. You’d just be wastin’ your breath and my time. Go on, get out of here now! I’ve got things to do! Where did that wretched valet put my quizzing glass? By the bed? On the table? Damn! What—are you still here? Out, girl. Out!”
I left. I went out to the back lawn and walked for a long, long time, thinking about what had happend, thinking about all the old man had said. He was going to make the will in Edward’s favor. I should have been elated by this knowledge, but I wasn’t. I kept thinking about Lyman, his love of the land, his hard work, and I was filled with remorse. Why? Why should I feel this way? Lyman was the enemy, and I was going to marry Edward, yet for a moment there I had been on the verge of confessing everything to Lord Mallyn, simply because of Lyman. I doubted now that my confession would have made any difference, and perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps after I married him I could persuade Edward to do right by his cousin. Perhaps I could make him see that Lyman was entitled to a rightful share.… Yes, I would do that. Somehow or other I would make up for the wrong I was doing. I would see that Lyman eventually got what he was entitled to. Why should I be so concerned about Lyman? Guilt. It must be guilt. It couldn’t be anything else.…
“Good morning, Jenny.”
I had been so immersed in thought that I hadn’t heard Lettice come out of the house. She strolled across the lawn toward me now, her white dress billowing, her long hair glistening golden-brown in the sunlight. Demurely, a bit shyly, she joined me by the marble bench and, taking my hand, smiled a shy smile, her gray eyes shining. Could this be the same sour, hostile child I had seen that first night? It hardly seemed possible that such a change could take place, yet it had. The proof was right here before my eyes.
“What are you doing?” she inquired.
“Nothing in particular. Just—thinking. What are you doing? I thought you and Partridge had history lessons at this time of day.”
“We do,” she confessed. “Partridge has one of her migraines, and she went to her room for a short nap. I’m supposed to be reading about Richard III, but I skipped—Partridge would be very upset, but I’ll be back before she wakes up. I wanted to talk to you about my plan, Jenny.”
“What plan is that?”
Lettice released my hand, a trifle irritated.
“My plan to be beautiful,” she said. “Don’t you remember? You told me all about that woman—Mary Ann Evans. I found one of her books in the library. It had a picture of her. She was plain, Jenny, much plainer than I am, but she was beautiful, too. Only a beautiful woman could have written that story. The Mill on the Floss. I read it straight through.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“I cried,” she said.
She frowned, and, avoiding my eyes, stepped over to the back hedge, idly stroking the leaves with her fingertips. “I plan to be beautiful, too, just like her. I couldn’t ever write books, but maybe I could learn to know people and understand them like she did. That’s what being beautiful is—understanding people, liking them, accepting them no matter what faults they might have.”
“That’s—that’s very wise, Lettice.”
Lettice turned around, a rather peevish frown creasing her brow. “I’m a very bright child. I told you that a long time ago. Jenny, I—I know I can’t change overnight—I still feel very hateful at times, I still want to lash out at people and make shrewish remarks—but I—I am going to try to be different. I want to like people. I want them to like me.” Her expression was intense, her eyes determined.
“I’m sure you’ll succeed,” I told her.
“Last night I put away my dolls,” she said matter-of-factly. “I put every one of them in the bottom drawer of the chest. I shan’t take them out again—” Her voice trembled just a little, and I realized how painful that ceremony must have been for her. “I—I loved them, and I still do, but from now on I’m going to concentrate on real people.”
“That’s an—admirable resolution.”
“My birthday’s next month. I’ve decided to have a party. I’m going to invite all the local children—even Squire Brown’s twins, and they’re horrible boys, mean and rowdy, both of them. I—I’m going to have a party, and I’m going to be polite and gracious no matter how detestable the others are. I’m going to make friends with Lyle Radcliff’s little sister. She’s just my age. It’s going to be hard, but—will you help me, Jenny?”
“Of course I will.”
“Mother wouldn’t, I know. She couldn’t be bothered. But Daddy’ll let me have the party, I know he will, and if you’re there to help—” Lettice looked up at me with a worried expression.
“I will be, dear. I—I promise. You’re growing up, Lettice. You’re going to be a beautiful young lady. You’re going to have lots of friends, dozens of them.”
“I don’t expect miracles,” she said quietly, “but at least I’m going to try. I’d better go back in now before Partridge wakes up. I—I love you, Jenny. There, I’ve said it!”
Shoulders squared, she marched briskly back across the lawn. Her white skirt fluttered as she stepped onto the shadowy veranda, and then she disappeared. I stood there by the leafy back hedge, refusing to give in to the emotion welling up inside. I wouldn’t cry. No, I wouldn’t. I was going to be very firm and resolute. Something good had come from my dishonesty, and I vowed there would be even more to come in the future. Lettice, Lyman, Lord Mallyn: All of them were going to benefit by my decision to marry Edward. I vowed that. I was going to make up for the wrong I had committed. Mallyncourt hadn’t been a happy place these past weeks. There were brooding undercurrents, tensions, an atmosphere of bitterness and strife, but the future was going to be different.
I intended to use everything in my power to see to that.
It was almost eleven when I finally went back inside. Vanessa was coming down the steps as I entered the back hall. Wearing a lovely pearl-gray velvet riding habit with tailored jacket and wide skirt, she carried a hat with three long dark blue plumes curling about the gray velvet brim. There were faint mauve shadows etched over her lids, and her mouth drooped down at the corners. She looked troubled, I thought, her violet-blue eyes dark with some private anguish. Was she still brooding about Gerry’s departure? Ha
d it affected her so deeply? Seeing me, Vanessa paused at the foot of the stairs. Her features tightened, eyes hostile.
“Hello, Vanessa.”
“Hello, luv,” she said. “I’m glad to see you up and about. I missed you last night at dinner.”
“Did you indeed?”
“Edward said you weren’t feeling well. I imagine you were just tired. He said you two were planning a trip to London.”
“That’s right.”
“Don’t count on it, luv.”
I gazed at her, too startled to reply.
“I saw you coming back in the carriage yesterday afternoon,” she said in a flat voice. It was almost as though she were making an accusation. I found her attitude totally perplexing. Why was she using that tone and why was she looking at me with such intense hatred?
“You looked so disheveled,” she continued, “—you and Edward both. I suppose you had a divine time.”
“It was quite satisfactory,” I replied.
“No doubt,” she snapped. “Did he make love to you?”
The question startled me. “I—I’m afraid that’s none of your business, Vanessa.”
Her nostrils flared. I had never seen such hatred.
“Is something wrong, Vanessa?”
“Yes, luv, something’s wrong. I think it’s about time you know that—” She broke off abruptly as Edward strolled into the hall. Her cheeks flushed a vivid pink.
Edward paused a few feet away, gazing at the two of us with an ironic expression, one brow arched, the other straight. He sensed the tension immediately, of course. The air was charged with it. Resting his hands on his hips, he lifted one corner of his mouth in a wry smile as though appreciating some private joke. The flush had gone from Vanessa’s cheeks. She looked pale now, and worried.
“What a lovely pair you make,” Edward remarked. “Am I interrupting something?”
Neither of us replied. Vanessa glared at him with pure venom.
“Uh—I believe you were about to say something, Vanessa.”
Midnight at Mallyncourt Page 21