by Joan Vincent
Things were certainly clearer. Was he relieved?
Perhaps Mother could be of help, he thought, rising. Yes, she had always made it her business to know everyone else's.
* * * *
Adrian made a leg elegantly before Lady Tretain, then kissed her cheek. Sitting, he asked, “How are you this morning, Mother? I hope the journey did you no harm."
With a harrumph the countess waved for a footman to place her napkin in her lap.
They sat in silence as Holdt served. Lady Tretain dismissed him with a wave of her hand.
"The food is excellent, as usual, Mother. I do not know why I refrain from visiting. Perhaps I will come more frequently now."
"That you finally consider taking your place is good news indeed, my son. I thought you mentioned this was to be only a short visit."
"So I did and that is what this must be. But I mean to return shortly, perhaps permanently.” Lord Adrian paused, then nonchalantly continued, “Mother, do you know anything of the Perrill family?"
The countess cast an odd look at him. “Why do you ask?"
"Someone mentioned them in London and I became curious. I do not recall having heard of them,” he answered offhandedly.
"Well, let me think. The Perrills? I do believe I know of them. It seems the family title is earl...
"Yes, I recall an Earl Lewallen. I think he went to his reward several years ago. At an early age he had depleted what remained of the family fortune,” she finished scornfully.
"Do you know where the present earl is?"
"In India, I believe. I think there was a daughter who married a French nobleman—but it is too insignificant. I do not recall anything else.
"Let us speak of you, instead.” She halted when Bess came shyly into the room and gave a cold, “Yes” to the maid's curtsy.
"Begging your pardon, my lord, but you wished to be called when her ladyship awoke."
"Yes.” Lord Adrian slapped his napkin onto the table and rose. “You must excuse me, Mother. I will speak with you later.” Without further word, he strode from the room.
Bess was forced into a half-run in order to keep up with the earl as he made his way through the hall, up the stairs, and to the master suites.
Knocking at Lady Juliane's door, Lord Adrian paused only to tell Bess to return when he sent for her.
"You vile creature,” Lady Juliane said scathingly the moment she saw him. “Where have you taken me? Where are the children? How could you do this"
Adrian reached for her hand but Juliane shrank from him. “Lady Perrill, there is no need for this."
Juliane gasped. How had he learned her name?
"You were quite talkative during the night under the effects of the laudanum,” Adrian answered her look.
"Laudanum. You odious man. I will..."
"You will what? I would think you could at least be more appreciative."
"Appreciative? I do not call being ruined something to thank one for, my lord."
"Who has been ruined?"
"You know I will never be able to appear in public once the rumours spread,” Juliane accused.
"Why should there be any rumours?” Adrian asked innocently.
"You are detestable."
"I begin to believe your education has been sadly neglected. Do you not know any complimentary terms?"
Lady Juliane folded her arms and glared.
Lord Adrian smiled back pleasantly. Seeing a comfortable chair near the fireplace, he moved it near the bed and sat.
"I demand you leave my room. And that I be taken to see the children."
"You may see the children as soon as we have completed our conversation."
"I have none to make with you, my lord."
"You are wrong there, my dear.” Pursing his lips, Adrian added, “Do you not think it rather odd to call me ‘my lord’ after a marriage of such long ‘duration'?” He caught the pillow she hurled at him and smoothed it on his lap.
"If you must treat me as a husband, the least you can do is call me by name. Mother will think it decidedly odd if you do not."
"Mother? We are not at—"
"Trees, my dear. You surely remember our country estate. But, of course, illness has affected your memory severely. I must remember to tell the servants that,” he said smoothly.
"What illness? I will not be here long enough for you to tell anyone anything."
"You are wrong, Lady Juliane. If you insist on being disagreeable, I will merely imply you still are not well. Your having arrived here in a state of unconsciousness will lend credence to my tale. Of course, Mallatt will agree entirely with me."
Shaking her head, Juliane's shoulder's sagged. “Why? Why are you doing this?"
They gazed at each other steadily. It was Lady Juliane who dropped her gaze first. But Lord Adrian's were no longer cool. When she looked up, he had masked his desire.
"Let us say I dislike anyone who seeks to harm an innocent child. Can you not trust me? Tell me the whole?” he asked earnestly.
The door to Juliane's bedchamber unexpectedly opened. “I am so glad to see you recovered, child,” said Lady Tretain as she walked to the centre of the room.
Ignoring the cold glare from her son, she continued, “I have ordered your breakfast. I thought you both would be pleased to know that I have decided to hold a ball in your honour a score of days hence."
"A ball,” came the stunned reply in unison.
"Mother, have you gone daft?” stated Lord Adrian.
"Of course not, my son. I merely wish to give ... Lady Tretain the ... the proper welcome and introduction.
"Everyone will be agog to learn who has snared you at last. A fortnight should allow you ample time to arrange for proper dress to be sent from London. Satter tells me your wife's wardrobe is most ... inadequate."
So, thought Lord Adrian glowering, the gauntlet is thrown. Well, his mother would not win so easily. He relaxed, forcing a smile.
"How ... kind ... of you, Mother. We are suitably honoured, are we not, Juliane?"
Lady Juliane looked from mother to son. Why, one was as daft as the other.
CHAPTER 13
Very quickly a carefree week had passed. The only reminder of the scare they had had were the two men who watched over Lady Juliane and the children by day, and another pair who stood guard at the children's door by night.
When not busy with affairs of the estate, Lord Adrian went out of his way to find amusement for Lady Juliane, often including the children. This delighted Juliane and astonished Lady Tretain.
The countess had decided to be coldly pleasant to the young woman her son refused to admit was not his wife. Accustomed to similar treatment in India, this bothered Lady Juliane very little. Her reaction unknowingly raised her esteem in the eyes of Lady Tretain.
Although hesitant to accept Lady Juliane because of the suspicious circumstances surrounding her advent into the family, the countess reluctantly admitted that the change wrought by it in her son was short of miraculous.
Instead of brooding by day and thundering who knew where by night as he had on past visits, Lord Adrian went about with a festive spirit. He even enticed others to laugh. Lady Tretain had never seen him happier, and yet an apprehension nagged at her. She could not believe he was, in fact, married or that the children were his. If it was as she believed, it could only end in disaster.
Lady Tretain could find no fault with the children. They were lovable. If only she could be at ease. If Adrian did indeed call her bluff and go through with the ball, she would have to admit defeat at her own hand.
* * * *
A hint of spring imbued the day. The warmth of the air and the golden splash of crocuses on the sculptured lawn enticed Lady Juliane and the children outdoors. She was enjoying a most unladylike romp when Lord Adrian approached carrying an oversized wicker basket.
André ran to greet him and even Leora toddled toward the earl. Catching her small hand in his, Lord Adrian led them back to where La
dy Juliane sat on the ground.
Under his scrutinizing gaze she became conscious of her dishevelled appearance. Brushing leaves and dried grass from her hair and gown, she began to rise.
"No, my lady. I will join you if I may."
"What did you bring us, mon père?” squealed André.
"You must wait.
"Leora,” he took her fingers and drew her to his lap as he knelt beside Lady Juliane. “I trust this is safe?” he asked in mock seriousness.
Juliane grinned broadly. “I believe so, my lord, but one can never be certain."
"I will risk it. Am I not courageux, André?"
André giggled. This “papa” was so foolish at times.
Holding onto Leora, Lord Adrian pulled the basket closer.
André knelt beside them. The anticipation lighting the children's faces infected Lady Juliane.
"Open the lid, Leora,” coaxed Lord Adrian.
Lady Juliane and André watched in expectation as her tiny fingers fumbled with the lid. Curious squeaks, squeals, and something suspiciously close to a meow coming from the basket became too much for André. He reached across and lifted the lid.
A large black mongrel pup tumbled out and pounced into Lady Juliane's lap. It nipped at her skirts. Then, a small black kitten placed its paws on the edge of the basket and peered cautiously over the brim.
Laughing, Lady Juliane fended off the puppy's face-washing efforts and handed the bundle of energy to André. The pair was soon very well acquainted and began to chase one another and role in the grass.
Lord Adrian removed the kitten from the basket. Holding it in one hand, he guided Leora's over its silky fur.
Looking across at Juliane, he hesitated briefly, then said, “Your gift should be here tomorrow. Two days hence at latest."
The laughter died in her eyes, and looking down, Juliane plucked at the dry grass. “You know I cannot accept a gift from you, my lord,” she said. “I should not allow your kindness to the children. It will but make things more difficult for them later."
"Then let us not term it a gift but a payment. I am responsible...” He halted at her look of dismay.
"Here is Alva,” said Juliane, rising. “It is time for the children to go indoors."
Lord Adrian also stood up and handed Leora to Alva. “André will come in later,” he said. “Let him play with his pup for a time."
"Aye, m'lord,” Alva said.
Lady Juliane frowned.
"Do not be angry with me. Surely you had a pup or pet of some sort at his age. I remember—"
The grief he had expressed in his delirium remained with her. “Yes, I know,” Juliane interrupted.
"Will you not walk with me until André tires?” Adrian asked, sensing her change in mood.
She searched for a reason to decline but, finding none that was reasonable, sighed. “Yes, my lord."
He took her arm. “I think you will enjoy the gardens. They will give you much enjoyment later this season when the roses are in bloom."
"You know that will be impossible, my lord. I must leave soon."
"You cannot."
"Why? You do not mean to go through with the ball?” she asked, searching his face.
"I do not know. But I cannot permit you to go just yet."
"You cannot permit?” she echoed indignantly.
"We have been at peace for a week now. Why is it you wish to cross swords whenever we are alone?” Lord Adrian asked wearily.
"Because you insist on this pretence of family. More than harming me, it is unjust to the children. They are unsettled enough as it is, but this constant shifting of attention and emotions can only do them ill. The gifts you have just given them reinforce the idea of a father. That cannot be."
"Why can it not?” He halted and looked intently into her eyes. “You still cannot place your faith in me?"
Lady Juliane read the regret on his features but could not answer him. She walked on.
Lord Adrian followed, shouting a greeting to a gardener in the distance. They continued in silence, each absorbed in private thought.
As they turned to go back, a shrill whistle echoed where they had been. Ahead of them, near a copse, André and the pup romped.
The whistle sounded again and the pup sat and perked up his ears. At the next whistle, he bounded into the copse. André followed. His bodyguard watched unconcerned.
When André did not emerge, Lady Juliane lengthened her stride and called to him. A scream from within the copse answered her. The old fears filled her anew. Raising her skirts, Juliane raced for the copse.
The bodyguard and Lord Adrian entered the thicket first ahead of her. Lady Juliane struggled to follow them but the branches caught and tore her gown.
"André! André!” she called, but there was no answer.
Pushing ahead, she lost sight of Lord Adrian and the bodyguard but could hear the crunch of gravel and the snap of branches ahead of her.
Would there never be a clearing? Juliane wondered desperately. Then, coming to a small one, she tripped and half fell. Looking down, she saw the culprit, a large rock. Picking it up, Juliane pressed forward.
Meanwhile André kicked and thrashed with all his might. His abductor, hampered by the closeness of the trees and brush, momentarily loosened his grip.
"Ma mère!” screamed André. As the man's dirty hand closed over his mouth once more, the boy sunk his teeth into it.
His abductor let loose a stream of French curses and crouched down to get a better grip on the boy.
Hearing André's scream, Lady Juliane realized she wasn't far from the boy. She pushed forward with all her strength. The French curses to the right drew her in that direction. Finally she could see a stranger. And he had André.
Holding her skirts tightly with her free hand, Juliane edged forward. Coming within reach, she dropped her skirts and raised the rock in both hands. As the man turned at her intake of breath, she brought the rock down hard against his head.
He crumpled, senseless, to the ground. André writhed free and flew to Juliane.
As she held him tightly, she looked at the prone figure in horror. Blood oozed through his hair and dripped to the ground.
Snapping and crackling branches brought Lady Juliane's gaze around. She saw Lord Adrian and the bodyguard close behind him. Instead of being relieved at the sight of her and the boy, Lord Adrian looked angry. Kneeling beside him, the earl placed a hand over the man's heart. “He's alive. Morton, take this scoundrel and lock him up. I will question him later.
"Juliane, are you and André unharmed?"
"Yes, my lord."
Her cold reply struck him as odd but now was not the time for questions. “Let me take you back to the house. We must be doubly careful in the future. If I am to help you, you must tell me what this is about."
"I will think on it, my lord,” Juliane answered as they came into the open. Suspicion had formed a cold band about her heart.
Was it he they had to fear? What could Lord Tretain gain? There was so much they did not know about him. She had come so close to entrusting him with their safety.
Lady Julian could not discount, however much she wished to, that the attempt had been made only after she had failed to agree that they go on in the current manner. Had Lord Adrian's greeting to the gardener been a signal to proceed with the kidnapping?
The situation was becoming increasingly confused. It seemed she was surrounded by enemies.
But why? What did they want?
CHAPTER 14
A week after the attempt to abduct André, Lady Tretain adopted an engrossed pose over her needlework while she kept a studied eye on Lady Juliane. The countess still had been unable to learn the reason for the kidnapping.
The captured man had escaped the night of his capture. Despite the sharp words that had occurred over the escape, the countess had noticed that her son had continued his carefree manner with Lady Juliane.
But that lady's careful restraint toward the earl
had definitely taken an icy turn. It was as though Lady Juliane thought Adrian had set the man free.
That evening, for the first time since their arrival at Trees, Lord Adrian failed to join them for the evening meal. Although this had upset Lady Tretain, Lady Juliane was more relieved than distressed. She did not feel prepared for the confrontation certain to ensue over the voluminous stack of boxes and packages that had been delivered to her room that day from London—Adrian's promised gift.
Juliane had declined to open even one, certain of what was within. Their presence in her room strengthened her resolve to leave Trees as quickly as she could fathom a method.
"Lady Juliane, are you listening?"
"Pardon, my lady, my mind was wandering. What is it you said?"
"Arrangements for the ball are complete. Preparations will begin on the morrow. I have received confirmation from all of those invited.
"Lord and Lady Stern will arrive the day after the morrow. Of course, Sir Percival Elliott, my husband's nephew, is coming and Adrian has indicated some of his friends will join us.” Lady Tretain was surprised to see that this news had somehow Lady Juliane.
"Was there someone you wished to invite?"
"No, I can think of no one,” Lady Juliane faltered thinking that it would soon be too late. Once visitors arrived, her chance to escape would be gone. Lord Adrian had to tell the truth. They could not go through with this. What did he hope to accomplish?
"As I was saying, my dear, the decorations will be in Lord Adrian's favourite colours, silver and blue. He has told me that the gown he ordered for you is in those colours. Do you wish to go through the family jewels? I am certain you will find something among them to complement your gown."
Giving her head a shake as if to clear it, Juliane said, “I am sorry, Lady Tretain. What is it you were saying?"
"Nothing, Lady Juliane. Perhaps it would be best if we retired for the evening."
"Yes,” Lady Juliane answered absentmindedly. “I believe so.” She laid down the needlework that had remained untouched the entire evening.
"May I ask—Is all well with you?” Lady Tretain inquired thawing briefly.
"Yes. Everything is as it has been. I bid you goodnight."