“How should I at this juncture? There is no concealing it from you, I am certain.”
“No, for I have seen her at full cry. But go on, Mrs Delabole.”
“Matt saw the signs when she was an infant. Tamasine had, he said, the same distrait manner he first noticed in his wife. Her attention could not be focused for more than a minute.”
“That is well seen. I’ve wondered how they managed to teach her anything at all.”
Mrs Delabole threw up a hand. “Heavens, nothing! She had lessons, but she was apt to abandon them in an instant. They were put to creating games to instil anything at all into her wayward mind. She was forever playing tricks, vanishing into the sugar canes and causing everyone the maximum amount of trouble. A terrible charge upon my poor brother! And she had cunning, he said.” Compassion showed in her features, but it proved not to be towards Tamasine. “What upset poor Matt the most, I think, was the little streak of cruelty that ran through the child. She delighted in inflicting pain. They could not permit her to keep pets, for she was not to be trusted with them.”
Ottilia’s heart grew cold at the thought. “My brother says it is a symptom of the inability to see the world from another’s shoes.”
“Exactly so. Matt was convinced that, like his wife, Tamasine occupies a world of her own. Everyone else is incidental.”
Ottilia could not let this pass. “Not all persons, I believe. She does genuinely care for Hemp, I am sure.”
“Hemp? The black slave?”
The touch of revulsion in her voice caused Ottilia to become tart. “I am informed he is a free man, ma’am. At all events, Hemp is the one person who can control your niece.”
Mrs Delabole shuddered. “My niece! How in the world could I take her in charge? I should never know a moment’s peace. Mr Roy is welcome to her, for all of me!”
Revolted by the woman’s wholly unsympathetic attitude, Ottilia abandoned all effort to be tactful. “I hate to say this, ma’am, but I fear young Roy has no proper interest in Tamasine beyond acquiring access to her fortune, which I believe is considerable. Once he had it, I fear he would find means to rid himself of a singularly poor bargain of a wife.”
The matron stared at her, evidently unable to make the leap. “I cannot think what you mean, Lady Francis. How should he be rid of her? Not divorce, surely?”
“A surer means than that, I think.”
“Surer? What in the world are you implying?”
Dawning dismay was in the woman’s eyes. Before Ottilia could say more, the sound of the front door slamming penetrated to the parlour. With a muttered expletive, she jumped up and raced out, with every expectation of finding a cavalcade returning from the village church.
She found only the butler Lomax. She eyed him, trying to calm the jangle of her nerves. She managed as close an approximation to her normal tones as she could summon up.
“You are back then, Lomax. Can it be that you were not a party to this secret marriage after all?” The fellow’s angry glare told her otherwise, but he did not speak. Footsteps could be heard above stairs and Ottilia hastened to seize the moment. “But it was you who kept Simeon Roy informed of events here at Willow Court, was it not?”
From behind her, Mrs Delabole gave a gasp. “Gracious, Lady Francis, what in the world do you mean?”
She had not expected the woman to follow her out of the parlour and could have done without her intervention. Although perhaps it was as well she knew what Ottilia suspected. She opted for clarification.
“I mean, ma’am, that Mr Roy is remarkably well informed about matters here for a man who has not been next or nigh the Barbados party since it came to this place.”
Lomax produced a sneer almost worthy of Roy himself. “You’ll believe what you wish to, I don’t doubt.”
“It rather leaps to the eye, Lomax. How long have you been in correspondence with him? Ever since he left Barbados? Or did you only seek him out when you arrived in England? Or no, more likely when you knew you must come here. Insurance, Lomax? You had a future to think of, had you not?”
She watched the effect of her words in the shift of muscles in his face, the tightening at his jaw, aware of Mrs Delabole’s open-mouthed astonishment at her elbow. The footsteps were now on the stairs and Ottilia looked up to see Miss Ingleby, who paused, her accusing eyes on the butler.
“Where are they?”
He removed his taut gaze from Ottilia and it narrowed as he turned it on the companion. “Why ask me? I’m not the girl’s keeper.”
“But I am, Mr Lomax.” The deep voice came from the back of the hall. Ottilia turned as one with Mrs Delabole as Hemp walked through to confront the butler. “Is it true, sir? What this lady says? You made a plan with Mister Simeon. You brought him here so he can run away with Miss Tam — again?”
“What?” Mrs Delabole’s eyes were round. “Great heavens, has he done this before?”
“He has, madame,” responded Hemp. “Did not Master Roy write to you of it?”
The woman’s eyes fairly popped. “The attempted elopement! I had forgot all about it.”
Hemp turned back to Lomax. “Sir, you have not answered me?”
His tone was respectful, but Ottilia detected steel beneath which was not lost on Lomax. His chin went up and he adopted a lofty manner.
“Don’t think you can go accusing me, boy. I’m still your superior.”
“No, sir, you are not.”
The front doorbell pealed through the house and Mrs Delabole flinched. Lomax went to answer, no doubt relieved to be spared having to deal with the footman’s intimidating hostility. The thought was overborne in Ottilia’s mind as Tamasine tripped into the house, evidently in high gig. Her heartbeat quickened. Had Francis been too late?
The girl danced up to her companion. “You didn’t catch us, Lavinia. We were too clever for you.”
Miss Ingleby looked aghast, as well she might, her gaze flying to search Simeon Roy’s face. He had entered behind Tamasine and his manner was as urbane and drawling as ever.
“Don’t look so appalled, my dear Lavinia. Surely you know little Tam wishes for nothing more in life than to be my wife?”
“No!”
Lavinia’s cry was strangled and she backed, her features distorted. Ottilia felt Mrs Delabole’s fingers clutch her arm and turned to find the woman’s cheeks drained of colour. Had she taken the jump? Did she now realise of what Simeon Roy might be capable?
Then Tamasine burst into her high-pitched giggling laugh, jumping up and down. “We fooled you, we fooled you, we fooled you! Lavinia couldn’t catch us.”
“Miss Tam!”
The deep voice claimed her instant attention. She turned to Hemp, shrieked and flung herself upon him, calling out his name several times in that singsong way she had. Watching Hemp receive her into his embrace, the thought struck Ottilia that here was the only genuine affection the girl exhibited.
Hemp released himself and, talking low into her ear, ushered her up the stairs.
Belatedly, it occurred to Ottilia that Mrs Whiting had made no appearance. Was she busy in the nether regions, or merely steering clear of the contretemps? A quick glance round showed her that Lomax had seized the chance to slip away.
Mrs Delabole was still gripping her arm and Ottilia turned, wondering what she could possibly say to offer comfort. Yet another peal at the front doorbell brought Cuffy to the fore. Ottilia had not even realised the elder footman was upon the scene. He opened the door to Francis and Ottilia started forward. She had no chance to speak for Miss Ingleby forestalled her, throwing out an accusing finger.
“How could you let this happen? So much for your unwarranted interference! You were supposed to stop it!”
Her husband’s calm tones brought instant balm. “Your reproaches are misplaced, Miss Ingleby. The marriage did not take place.”
The companion stared at him, her gaze painful in its intensity. “You were in time?”
“Just.”
&nbs
p; “Oh, thank heaven!”
She put a hand to her bosom and fell back a little, reaching out to grasp the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. Simeon Roy moved up close, pushing past Ottilia and Mrs Delabole without ceremony, venom in both tongue and eyes.
“Relief, Lavinia? It will be short-lived, I promise you. This is but a minor setback. I haven’t waited this long to be bested now. Do your worst. Lock her up, drug her until she’s stupid with the stuff. You won’t stop me. I mean to marry the wench and I will, whatever it takes.”
With which, he turned sharply and cast a mocking glance across the audience of visitors, sweeping over Mrs Delabole too. His voice jeered.
“You’re all deluded. You most of all, Ruth, but you are less blameworthy than these interfering busybodies.” He eyed the visitors with disdain. “You see what you think you see. There’s more here than meets the eye.”
He made for the front door, but Ottilia moved to intercept him.
“Assuredly, Mr Roy. Much more. Let me see if I have gauged it aright.”
His lip curled. “I have no interest in your musings, Lady Francis.”
In one movement, Francis was before him. “You’ll keep a civil tongue in your head when you talk to my wife, Roy, or you’ll answer to me.”
Simeon fell back, opening his arms. “But I am perfectly courteous, sir. What did I say that you could possibly take amiss?”
“I misliked your tone.”
Roy threw up his hands and his smile became unctuous, his voice a mockery of obsequiousness. “My dear sir, you behold me abject.” He bowed towards Ottilia. “I meant no offence towards your good lady. I am merely desirous of removing from this intolerable gathering forthwith.”
“Not so fast, my lad.”
Ottilia heard her brother’s voice with surprise. She had not seen him enter the house.
“Ah, the good doctor,” said Roy, flourishing a hand in his direction, seemingly unaffected by the manner of Patrick’s interruption. “To whom I am indebted for traitorous murmurings to the rector. Your solicitude is remarkable, sir, in matters that don’t concern you. Did I not hear that you are responsible for discovering the cause of my poor cousin’s untimely demise? Though anyone who knew him could have told you his habit at the outset.”
“If you mean that I assisted at a post-mortem after an untimely and unexpected death, you are correct, sir.” Patrick moved to flank Francis. “But at this present, I wish to caution you, Mr Roy.”
“Caution? Against what?”
“Your actions this morning could readily put you, along with the butler, under a charge of kidnapping. I would advise you to think carefully before you attempt another such escapade.”
“I hardly think such a charge would stand. Tamasine is my cousin, after all.”
“But a court of law would not consider her fit to consent to the scheme you propose. As a medical man, I am qualified to bear witness to her state of mind.”
The struggle in Roy to maintain his pose of nonchalance was visible. Until Miss Ingleby intervened.
“There now, Simeon. That is all your scheming has led to, you villain!”
He turned on her, rage twisting his features. “Vixen!”
“Oh, not again!” came on a pleading note from Mrs Delabole. She was ignored, hastening out of the way as Simeon closed in to the companion.
“You’ve always stood in my way. You turned Joslin against me as well as Matt. You couldn’t have me, so you made sure Tamasine would not either.”
“To be sure I did,” she snarled back. “What sort of life would she have with you, selfish brute that you are?”
“Better than she has with you. I can offer her frolicking and freedom, a chance to enjoy life for a change.”
Ottilia pounced, taking a couple of steps towards him. “For how long, Mr Roy?” He turned to confront her, his brows snapping together. Aware of Francis at her back, stiffly protective, Ottilia did not hesitate. “How long could you keep a wife you could not present to your acquaintance? How indeed could you enjoy the riches she brought you when you might not show her abroad? Or did you mean to keep her confined as your cousin Matthew did Florine, with a couple of servants to see she came to no harm?”
A gasp escaped Mrs Delabole. Had she at last understood the alternative?
Miss Ingleby dived straight back in, scorn in her tone. “Ha! Answer that if you can, fiend!”
The woman might be for once on Ottilia’s side, but she could do without the companion’s doubtful assistance. She kept her eyes on Simeon Roy, determined to push through. “Did you suppose Hemp could be persuaded to join your household? He is the only one here truly capable of controlling Tamasine.”
“Balderdash!” The sneer was back on the man’s face. “He’s no more to her than any other slave.”
“You are either blind or stupid, Mr Roy, if that is what you believe. But I don’t think you do. You know quite well what value Hemp holds in Tamasine’s life. But it would be a deal too much to expect of him, to come to your aid in this, after you and Lomax had cheated him out of his inheritance.”
Shock held Francis speechless, and he at once saw his stupefaction echoed in the faces of Mrs Delabole, Miss Ingleby and Patrick. Roy, on the other hand, appeared unmoved. He raised pained brows.
“Forgive me, Lady Francis, but I have not the remotest conjecture as to your meaning. Inheritance? Hemp? A black servant?”
As Francis might have expected, Tillie was not in the least disconcerted.
“Oh, come, Mr Roy, he is a deal more than that, and you know it.”
From the gallery above, Hemp himself spoke. “Say no more, milady.”
Miss Ingleby turned sharply, and started up the stairs. “Where is she? Have you left her alone? Is she locked in?”
“Mrs Whiting is with her, madame.”
“Is she calm? Does she need a dose?”
“She is happy. She is quiet.”
Simeon Roy gave out another of his sneering laughs. “Of course she is. Even if we failed in our objective, Tam is always delighted to outwit her duenna.”
“Because you encourage her,” Miss Ingleby slammed back, turning to descend the stairs again.
“Naturally I encourage her. Nothing delights me more than to goad you, Lavinia.” The companion raised a hand to strike him, but he caught her wrist. “Ah, would you, vixen?”
To Francis’s amazement, she did not fight to release herself, but drew close, spitting her words into his face.
“I would use my nails to wipe that smug look off your face! You were arrogant as a boy, and you haven’t changed. Lord knows what I ever saw in you!”
The man seized her other wrist, holding her close against him, the sardonic look on his face matching his voice. “Whatever you saw, Lavinia, you wanted it more than your own virtue. And you haven’t changed.”
With a squeal of rage, Miss Ingleby exerted her strength to free herself. With a mocking laugh, he released her. She backed away.
“Devil! Ingrate! I hate you! I hate you more than life!”
Turning, she flew for the study door. Roy plunged after her.
“You lying witch!”
She disappeared into the room, the man on her tail. The door slammed behind them both and the raised voices became indecipherable, and then muted as the row was carried away to another part of the mansion.
Chapter 16
“Lord above, what a pair!” Francis turned to catch Tillie’s reaction.
She was looking at Mrs Delabole, whose expression gave every indication of horror, while Patrick was openly grinning. He would have given much to enquire into his wife’s thoughts, but they were still encumbered with the aunt. He remembered the presence of the footman and glanced up the stairs.
“Is this a sample of what went on in Barbados, Hemp?”
The footman was watching the door, but he turned his head at that and came on down to the hall. “It is not for me to speak of it, milord.”
Mrs Delabole let her bre
ath go and threw up her hands. “Well, I wish to heaven someone would speak of it! I have never seen such a display. Never! My poor brother must be turning in his grave, I should think.”
Tillie took the woman’s hand and chafed it. “I am sorry for you, Mrs Delabole. It must be uncomfortable indeed to be thrust into this maelstrom.”
The poor lady’s eyes filled. “I wish I was at home again. I can’t bear all this uproar.”
“It will pass, ma’am,” Tillie soothed. “Why do you not go into the parlour, Mrs Delabole. I am sure you would be the better for a cup of coffee. Hemp will arrange it, I am persuaded.”
Francis watched with some dissatisfaction as his wife ushered the afflicted female into the parlour and disappeared from sight, leaving the door open. He turned back to Hemp. “Before you go, pray tell me this. You at least may say you cannot wish for such a man as this Simeon Roy to have charge of Miss Tamasine.”
“I do not wish for it, sir. I mistrust him and I do not believe he truly cares for Miss Tam.”
He gave a brief bow and started in the direction of the servants’ quarters. But Tillie, darting out of the parlour, caught up with him.
“One moment, Hemp. Do you think I might have a word with Miss Tamasine? Is she locked in?”
A frown creased the man’s features as he turned. “Mrs Whiting is there.”
Which was no answer. Impatience gnawed at Francis, but he saw Tillie’s special smile appear and held his peace.
“If you were to accompany me? There is nothing Tamasine might say that I would not wish you to hear.” The fellow hesitated. Francis was not surprised to find his wife pursuing her advantage. “In any event, I would appreciate a few moments of your time, Hemp. There is something with which I think you may be able to help me.” Her warm smile appeared. “Would you meet me at Tamasine’s door once you have alerted the kitchens about this coffee? Perhaps Cuffy will bring it. I won’t be above a moment.”
The dismissal was plain and the footman appeared to acquiesce. A slight bow and he went off through the baize door at the back of the hall.
The Lady Fan Series: Books 1-3 (Sapere Books Boxset Editions) Page 98