“What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing!” His eyes followed hers to his right hand. Curled into a fist, it shook steadily. He opened his fingers. “There is nothing wrong. Why should you think there is?”
She withdrew her forefinger from his left hand, then hesitated and patted him instead. “I understand these things, my dear. Forgive an old lady for seeming heartless. My advanced years make me impatient sometimes.”
Saber stared at her. Never, ever, had she retreated into the wiles of the aged. He did not believe she was doing so now. She sensed something… Yes, she sensed there was something wrong with him and it frightened her, just as it would frighten anyone exposed to the horror of his … madness.
Last night Ella had become the victim of his condition. And she had made excuses for him.
“Eat,” the dowager said sharply. “At once.”
“I find I am not hungry,” Saber said, eyeing the congealing lumps of meat with distaste. “Why did you wish to see me?”
The door opened and a rumpled Max came in. At the sight of Saber he brightened. “Morning,” he said, and yawned hugely. “Finch said you wanted me, Great-Grandmama.”
“Sit there.” She indicated the chair beside Saber, who sat at her right. “Be quiet and eat.”
“But—”
“You heard me,” Grandmama thundered, if in a somewhat thin voice.
“Hardly been in my bed,” Max grumbled, slipping into his appointed chair and casting Saber a conspiratorial sidelong glance.
The dowager harrumphed and raised her thin shoulders. “Seems to me that none of us has been abed, my boy. We will not go into the disgraceful events of last night. Not yet.”
She knew of Ella and Max’s visit to Burlington Gardens. His aged grandparent was up to something. “I’d intended to call this morning anyway,” he told her. “I need to speak with Struan.”
“You will speak with me.”
“I shall certainly be most happy to have you present,” he told her, deliberately soothing. “But I should appreciate having Struan awakened.”
“Not here,” Max said. “They left for Scotland. Decided to go without waking us—not that we were asleep.”
Saber frowned. “You told me you’d make sure they did not leave before I spoke with them.”
“Did he indeed,” Grandmama said. “They’d already left London when this young rogue and his willful sister returned. Regardless, this will be a lesson to you, Saber. There are certain conventions to be adhered to in these matters. Entrusting a task of such importance to a child could never fall within those conventions.”
“I say—”
“That will do, Max. I sent for you because you are Ella’s brother and the two of you are very close. I admire that and wish to honor your friendship.”
“Yes, but—”
“You will thank me for my consideration, eat what is put before you, and keep your mouth closed.”
Max rolled in his lips.
Saber hid a smile and waited for the inevitable.
“How can I keep my mouth closed and eat?”
Saber laughed.
Grandmama reached past Saber with a spoon and rapped Max’s knuckles.
The door, opening again, drowned the boy’s pained exclamation.
At the sight of Ella, Saber stood.
She met his eyes and appeared confused.
“Stop gaping, child,” Grandmama ordered. “Sit beside me at once and have your breakfast. You’re looking as dreadful as Saber.”
“Grandmama,” he said under his breath.
“Don’t reprimand me, young man! I say you and Ella look dreadful and you do look dreadful. Exhausted eyes, pallid skin, no life in either of you, I—”
“Ella looks beautiful,” he said without the caution he knew he should employ. “Sit down, my dear. Eat. You haven’t had enough sleep.”
“I have it on good authority that you haven’t had any sleep,” Grandmama told him. “You sit down and eat.”
Ella’s black hair had been loosely braided and wound about her crown. Her dark eyes glittered almost feverishly in a face that was, indeed, unnaturally pale. Ella was beautiful. Ethereal, vulnerable, touching places within Saber that he’d thought dead.
She began to turn away.
“Ella,” Grandmama barked out. “Come here at once.”
A violet morning dress with a demure white chemisette fitted Ella perfectly. Her breasts were a tender fullness, her waist small beneath a satin ribbon tie. The pleated skirt reached, but did not hide, narrow ankles.
So lovely, such an enigma—so impossible to banish from his mind ever again.
Slowly, she turned back to the table and walked to take a place beside her adoptive great-grandmother—across the table from Saber.
“That’s better,” Grandmama said, waving the flunky forward again. “More kidneys. See if cook has a little liver.”
Max made a barely disguised choking sound, which Grandmama chose not to notice.
“Fading away,” the old lady said. “And at a time when a young woman should be building herself up. Childbearing requires all the strength a female can have, my girl.”
Saber looked into Ella’s eyes.
She stared back, a grim tightness about her lips.
“Gad,” Max exclaimed. “You never told me you were… Well, you know, Ellie.”
“Got to build up your blood, or you won’t have enough to give the offspring.”
“I’ve always wanted to ask some questions about certain aspects, you know,” Max said, blissfully unaware of the tension in the breakfast parlor. “Naturally, I’m a man of the world and there’s little I don’t know. But the business of infants? I asked Mama if I could read her book, but she said I’d be bored until I was ‘of an age,’ whatever that means.”
“It means,” Saber said quietly, “that your mother, quite correctly, considers such information unnecessary at this point.”
“That’s just it,” Max continued, brimming with cheerful interest. “I ought to know the nature of this information, don’t you think? At least to a degree that would make a fella well-rounded in matters of the world. I’m not quite clear about how one thing leads to another. Or what exactly happens then. In fact, I’m not clear about a number of things. In fact—”
“Do shut up, Max,” Ella said in a voice barely above a whisper. “When will you learn to be appropriate?”
“He’s only interested,” Saber told her. “Interested and probably uncomfortable, just as you are.”
She looked at him then, and his stomach fell away. “I am not uncomfortable,” she said. “Why should I be? I’ve made my apologies.”
Exhaustion snapped Saber’s reserves of patience. “I’m almost surprised to find you here, Ella. I feared you might have fled back to Scotland with your parents.”
“Grandmama, would you please explain to Saber that Mama and Papa left unexpectedly early so I couldn’t accompany them.”
“Don’t be a sapskull. Saber is perfectly aware that they have left.”
Ella drew herself up. “Perhaps I should leave for Scotland.”
“You will do no such thing,” Grandmama said.
“Probably shouldn’t travel if you’re … Well, not a good idea if you’re in an interesting condition, is it, Ellie?”
The girl pushed aside the plate that was put in front of her, and crossed her arms.
“Ella is not in an interesting condition,” Grandmama said, with surprising patience. “I was referring to the need for her to become strong for when she is in such a condition.”
“Oh,” was all Max said.
“Rather than the foolishness your mama entered into, I should hope that you and Saber will waste no time in producing offspring.”
The arousal Saber felt might have shamed him, had it not brought him the pleasure of recalling Ella’s sweet body in his arms, her sweet lips upon his own.
Their offspring.
Their children—the fruit of his
seed within her.
“I had a particular reason for asking Saber to be here this morning,” Grandmama said. “Eat your kidneys. Both of you. And you, Max.”
Keeping his eyes on the proceedings, Max ate with evident relish.
“We have arrangements to make,” Grandmama continued. “There will be no more shilly-shallying. I shall deal with no more moonish nonsense. We are going to proceed with all haste.”
“Proceed with what?” Max asked around a mouthful of kidneys.
“Saber.” Grandmama raised her coffee cup and took a sip. “It’s time you—”
“Don’t say it,” he told her, making certain his voice conveyed enough command to stop her. “Do not go too far, please, Grandmama. It would be a mistake.”
For a moment the old lady considered. She set down her cup and pushed out her pale lips into a thoughtful little bunch of wrinkles.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Ella said.
“I won’t,” Grandmama said. “It’s time some changes were made. Saber and I are agreed on that.”
He forebore to argue.
“I’ve heard from Calum and Philipa,” Grandmama said, as if the diversion wouldn’t be noticed. “They have decided to visit earlier than planned. They’ll be arriving in a few days to give your ball, Ella.”
Ella showed no sign of having heard a word.
“Did you hear me? Calum and Pippa are on their way to London to give you a marvelous ball. As we speak, the ballroom is already being readied. Hasn’t been used since Justine’s pathetic attempt—”
“Don’t say nasty things about Mama,” Ella said. “There is no one as special as our mama.”
“I should say not,” Max agreed, forking in more kidneys and following them with a bite of toast recently cooled in the silver rack. “Mama is the best. So is Papa. Saber’s a brick too.”
Saber gave the boy a grateful half-smile. “Too bad your entire family doesn’t agree with you, young Max.”
“They do,” Grandmama assured him. “No matter on that score at the moment. To our earlier discussion.”
“About offspring, you mean?” Max asked, his attention on his plate. “Jolly good show that Ella and Saber are going to have some. When, exactly? I ought to at least read—”
“You will not read that outrageous book,” Grandmama said. “Now be quiet, all of you, so that I may finish. It’s inappropriate for women to be alone in London.”
“Alone?” Ella gave the dowager her full attention.
The old lady raised her chin. “Yes, alone. With your father gone and no other male relatives in residence, we are alone.”
Max sputtered. “I’m here!”
“You are not a man.”
“I am—”
“Quiet! A mature male presence is essential—for the look of things as well as for protection and guidance.”
Saber regarded her with interest. While helping Calum assume his responsibilities as Duke of Franchot, the dowager had shown herself as more than capable of administering the huge castle and its surrounding estates. Surely she wasn’t becoming too feeble to deal with a London house.
“The staff is very reliable,” Ella said. She patted Grandmama’s arm and smiled. “And I have no fear in any situation. We are perfectly safe here.”
“We will be perfectly safe here,” the dowager duchess replied. “We need a man in the house and we shall have one. Saber is moving in at once. I shall act as chaperon until the marriage.”
Chapter Twenty
Ella watched her visitor and longed for her to leave. Uncharitable, she knew, but this was a day when any intrusion would be unwelcome.
“This is the loveliest room.” Precious Able positively bubbled as she bounced around Ella’s sitting room. “The loveliest house. Lord Wokingham’s is so stuffy. And so…Oh, dear, how very wicked of me. I should never speak any wrong of my dear Woky. He is so good to me.”
“I’m glad,” Ella said vaguely. “That is a particularly becoming gown on you, Precious.”
“Do you think so?” Precious clasped her fingers together beneath her bosom and surveyed the yards of flounced, rosebud-pink muslin that foamed around her. “Woky said it was too provoking. I can’t imagine what that meant, can you?”
“No,” Ella said with complete honesty.
“Anyway. I didn’t come to presume upon your hospitality for long. I only want to know what’s happening to you. You haven’t been about for ages. And I’ve missed you.” Precious pouted prettily. “You promised to be my friend. You can’t be if I never see you, you know.”
Surely he would not do it.
“I was invited to Verbena White-Symington’s ball at Clarence House! Can you believe it?”
Saber couldn’t possibly agree to move in here at Pall Mall.
“Well, actually, Woky was invited to the ball and, of course, since I am his fiancýwent too. I was so certain you would be there.”
With Saber under the same roof she would see him at every turn. Ella looked into the fire—seeing him now. Great-Grand-mama intended to do all in her power to promote a marriage that should not take place.
Ella glanced at the small, pearl-encrusted watch pinned to her bodice. Two in the afternoon. The house had been utterly still since Saber left—in a thunderous silence—and everyone else had removed themselves to their quarters. Even Max had absented himself.
“Of course,” Precious said, walking toward Ella with springing steps that set her skirts swaying. “Perhaps you weren’t invited.”
“No,” Ella said. “No, I don’t believe I was. Although I’m not sure.”
Precious giggled and spun in a circle. “You are such a silly puff-head sometimes, Ella Rossmara. Of course you would remember.”
“Of course I would.”
Whatever happened, she must work very hard to be a good wife to Saber, to make him glad he’d married her. He was marrying her out of nothing but duty. And she would let him do it because she was too weak to do otherwise.
Oh, her mind twirled around and around.
“You aren’t even listening to me, are you?”
“Hmm?” Ella raised her eyes to Precious’s and encountered a frown. “Oh, I’m sorry, Precious. How thoughtless of me. I’m a little preoccupied.”
Precious grew still and her frown deepened. “All right, I’m going to be honest. I’m just going to be absolutely truthful and explain exactly why I came today. I did try to persuade myself that I didn’t need to, but I do and so I’m here.”
Bewildered, Ella tried to become more comfortable in one of the stiff pink wing chairs.
“You aren’t saying anything.” In a billowing, rosy cloud, Precious sank to the floor beside Ella. “I am your friend. You’re troubled and you need help. I want to give you that help.”
Ella’s concentration centered on her visitor. “Troubled? Of course I’m not troubled. I was simply listening to you and there didn’t seem too much to be said.”
Precious pressed one of Ella’s hands. “I know why you’ve been absent at absolutely every event for almost two weeks.”
“Do you?”
“I don’t believe a word that they’re saying.”
Ella gave the girl her complete attention. “I’m sure I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Oh…Well… Oh, forget I even mentioned anything. I’m sure I’ve got it all wrong anyway. My wedding is to be in four weeks—at Woky’s house. But I already told you that.”
“Yes. Precious—”
“Will you help me with all the shopping, Ella? Will you assist me in choosing my trousseau? You have such exquisite taste.”
“I’ll help you. Precious—”
“And you absolutely promise you’ll be there on the day? My mama and papa cannot return from Lancashire, so I’ll be all alone if you don’t come, and I’m convinced I shall quite faint away if that happens.”
“I’ll be with you.” Ella leaned forward. “Precious, what did you mean? About people saying things?”
Precious’s blue eyes filled with tears. “Why, oh why did I mention it?”
“You did mention it. Now, would you please explain?”
“Oh, it’s not really anything. They’re all jealous of you because you’re so beautiful—and so different-looking.” Precious paused. She got to her feet and stroked Ella’s hair. “Exotic. Not quite English, really.”
Ella resisted the temptation to mention the word gypsy.
“They say you are not really the Rossmaras’ daughter.”
Ella breathed deeply. “I am the adopted daughter of Viscount and Lady Justine, Viscountess Hunsingore.” Trying to avoid the truth would only result in more speculation. “My brother, Max, is also adopted.”
“How kind of the viscount and his wife.”
“Yes,” Ella agreed. “How kind of them.”
“So that much is true.”
“That much?”
A tap at the door was an unwelcome interruption. Ella’s maid, Rose, entered with a bowl of cream roses. “There’s more new ones downstairs, Miss Ella. Will I bring ’em up?”
“No, thank you, Rose,” Ella said. “In fact, why don’t you take a nice vase of flowers to your room. And there is another box of sweetmeats on one of the demilunes. Please share that with the rest of the staff.”
Rose bobbed and smiled her pleasure before departing again.
“Lots of gifts?” Precious said, moving to sniff the roses. “They weren’t wrong about that either.”
Irritation shortened Ella’s temper. “Why don’t you just tell me everything you’ve heard, Precious. It isn’t kind to taunt someone you supposedly count a friend.”
Precious swung around, her mouth turned sharply down at the corners. “Ella! Oh, my dear one. I’m sorry. It’s only that I spoke too hastily, I thought, and then I couldn’t take back my words. Are you to have a ball?”
Ella wasn’t distracted, but she said, “Yes. Two, I believe.”
Precious puffed up her cheeks and looked doleful.
“You shall come,” Ella told her in haste. “If you’d like to, that is. You and Lord Wokingham.” But not the revolting Hon. Pom.
“Yes, yes, we should enjoy that so. When—”
“Precious, we were discussing what you’ve heard about me. ”
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