Scandal's Bride

by Gibson, Pamela

  “That’s why I am here.” She smoothed the skirt of her dress, feeling the soft fabric under her fingers. “I made a discovery. I found a passage about Woodhaven in the book about abbeys I purchased from the bookseller.”

  John’s attention was riveted on her now. She took a deep breath and continued, “When the abbey was closed, the land was eventually sold. In the seventeenth century, it was purchased by the adjoining landholder. It must have remained in that family’s hands until, as you said, a member of that family lost it in a card game.”

  “Who was the family?”

  “Hawksbury. Our estate was once part of the Hawksbury estate.”

  He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Where do the Livesleys fit in?”

  “Lady Livesley was a Hawksbury. The estate now occupied by the baron and his family was part of her dowry. Apparently, Lord Livesley had wealth and a title, but no land until he married.”

  John fiddled with the lock of hair at his temple. “So Woodhaven Abbey and its property would have been part of Lady Livesley’s dowry if her ancestor had not forfeited it in a card game?” John expelled his breath and set down his tea. He crossed over to a sideboard and poured himself a glass of port. He offered one to Gwen, but she declined, her eyes still on his face.

  Her news was important and may be the reason why the baron had offered to buy the property from John. It would have restored to him a piece of land that might have been his.

  That did not explain the accidents.

  Lord Livesley appeared to be a good man. John counted him among his friends. As far as she knew, his farms were prosperous. He did not need Woodhaven. He had no reason to harm them.

  John drained his glass and set it down. “I believe we are facing yet another dead end, my dear.”

  She nodded. “It helps me understand the resentment I feel from Lady Livesley when I am in their house. She must harbor some kind of grudge because we occupy what she believes is rightly hers.”

  “Has she said anything to you about this?”

  “No. She was not very forthcoming during my previous visit, and after we dined with them, she was nearly silent the entire time the ladies had tea. But I cannot believe she is capable of perpetrating accidents. The woman is frail.”

  “Then we must look elsewhere. Tomorrow I shall talk to Mother about the Addersley connection. Perhaps we’ll discover a new clue.” He seemed to shudder.

  Gwen put out her hand and touched his arm. “May I come? I wish to get to know her better.”

  He banged the cup on the table beside him. “Absolutely not.”

  “Why?”

  “It isn’t safe.”

  “How can you say that? She’s addled, not deranged. There’s a difference, John.”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “You are holding something back, and I resent it. I insist on coming with you.”

  “Fine.” He rose and strode toward the door. “But get your rest. You’re going to need it.”

  Chapter 30

  John awakened early, eager to finish his search. He was surprised when Gwen did not join him in the breakfast room. She, too, was an early riser and had promised to help sift through the papers he’d brought from the attic.

  The sun was high when she breezed into the library and sat in one of the chairs. Her face seemed a bit pinched.

  “Did you sleep well, Gwennie? I thought I’d see you at breakfast.”

  “I took tea and toast in my bedchamber. The bed was comfortable, but I never sleep well in a new place.” She peered at his stacks. “How are you doing?”

  “Finding a single document in this mess is bedeviling.” He snorted. “Letters from mistresses are mixed in with bills of sale and other estate records. They might be useful in our search for half siblings, but I found no property deeds. If more papers exist, they must be in one of the trunks I did not open. I shall have to check tomorrow.”

  “Have you asked your brother? Miranda says he is quite organized.”

  “I did once. He said all important papers were at Longley.”

  “Could he have meant their town house in London?”

  “’Tis possible, but we’ve always referred to our country estate as Longley.” His gaze settled on her face. “Are you well? You seem a bit pale today.”

  “Oh la, it is from the excitement.”

  “If you wish to help, I shall hand you a stack. I advise you not to read any letters from his mistresses. You may find yourself blushing.”

  They worked the rest of the morning, stopped for a quick lunch, and after Gwen rested for an hour, she ambled back downstairs. John was just finishing.

  “Did you find anything?”

  “No deed. It must be, as you say, with Jeremy’s papers.”

  He looked at the clock. “I believe it is time for us to brave the dragon in her lair. Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s get this over with.”

  He offered his arm, and they went outside and found the path to the dower house. The gray day threatened rain, and a brisk wind thrashed through tree branches.

  “We’ll come back here in spring, and I’ll lead you through the maze.”

  “A real maze? I should like that above all.”

  They were in charity today. He still wasn’t sure he should allow her to accompany him, but it was too late to change his mind. When they finished their business, he would explain Mama’s mood swings and her lapses into violence. If Gwen didn’t believe him, the housekeeper could confirm it. He needed to make sure Gwen understood the importance of Mama’s confinement.

  They arrived at the gate, and John took out his key. Gwen’s eyebrows rose, but she remained silent. The housekeeper opened the front door and ushered them in. “She’s in the drawing room and is quite peaceful. She’ll want tea. Please be seated, and I’ll tell her you’re here.”

  The housekeeper bustled off, and Gwen sat down. Standing suited him better. He wanted to see Mama as she entered the room to assess her mood.

  Her maid ushered her in. “Here’s your son John, my lady, and your new daughter-in-law.”

  Her gaze found John first, and she smiled. “So nice of you to call. And this is . . .?”

  “My wife, Lady Gwendolyn. I believe you met her yesterday.”

  “Yes, I remember. Nice to see you again.” She sat in front of a small table. The maid came in with the tea service. “Would you care for tea, my dear?” She nodded toward Gwen.

  “No thank you.”

  Mother seemed to be on her best behavior today. She appeared almost normal. While not new, her gown was a becoming shade of rose, and her hair was swept up under a small, frilly cap.

  Not wanting to squander her good mood, he got right down to business. “I’m hoping you can answer a few questions, Mother. About your family.”

  “I hope it isn’t a business question, dear. Your father handles my business affairs.” She turned to Gwen. “Have we met before? You look familiar.”

  John shook his head, but Gwen answered, “I believe I resemble my father, Lord Culbertson. He said he was an acquaintance of yours.”

  A dreamy expression transformed Mother’s face. “Culbertson? I remember him. A quiet, handsome young man. Bookish. He offered for me, but once I saw Lord Longley, I told Papa I wanted no other.”

  John cleared his throat. “Do you recall your kinsman Sean Addersley? I believe he occupied Woodhaven Abbey years ago.”

  She squinted. “Sean? A tall boy, good horseman. His family visited us in Scotland one summer, and our family stopped at Woodhaven on our way to London for my come-out.” She stared off into space as if trying to call up his visage, then shook her head. “Tragedy.”

  Gwen put down her cup. “What kind of tragedy, Lady L
ongley?”

  She blinked and turned her gaze on Gwen. “Why his father, my uncle Joseph, killed himself. Jumped from the roof of the east wing at Woodhaven.”

  John sat forward. “When did that happen, Mama?”

  “A few years before you were born. Even though your grandmother owned Woodhaven, she allowed her younger brother Joseph’s family to live there. I believe they occupied a newer wing. She would have left the property to Sean, but after the tragedy, she decided it should go to you. Too much bad blood in that branch of the family.”

  “Bad blood?”

  “Sean married a foreign woman from a Norse country, his second wife. She had hair as white as snow and a heart just as cold. Mama didn’t care for her. Cousin Sean was Joseph’s only child and heir. Mama threw them out when Joseph died. I believe she blamed Sean’s wife for Joseph’s troubles. I was told Sean and his family remained in the village.” Her eyes dulled, and her hands fisted in her skirt. “I’m sure Sean expected to inherit the abbey. He must have been furious when Mother forced him out.”

  Dread slipped over him as he watched Mama’s breathing increase. She was growing agitated. Her eyes hardened, and her hands gripped the table in front of her, her knuckles white. It must be the talk of death.

  He rose. “Come, Gwen. We must depart.”

  She stood, but not before Mother’s hand shot out and curled around her wrist. “Where are you going?”

  “To the main house.” Gwen’s kind tone did not reveal any tension. But John knew she, too, had sensed the change in his mother’s mood.

  I have to get Gwen to safety.

  The maid, even more attuned to her charge’s disposition, got up as well. “I’ll show you out. No need for you to get up, Lady Longley. Enjoy your tea.”

  Ignoring her, Mama got to her feet and fisted her hands next to her body. Gwen inched toward the door where she left her gloves and bonnet. Unmoving, John faced Mother and tried to draw her attention.

  “I saw you have roses in your garden. Unusual this time of year. Your gardener must have an extraordinary touch.” He kept his tone friendly as he’d been taught.

  Mama’s eyes darted from him to Gwen then down at her hands.

  “Get out!” she screamed. She picked up a cup and hurled it at Gwen’s back. Another cup flew into John’s face. “Get out of my sight, you cur. Take your trollop with you. How could you, Longley. How could you bring her here? Why are you cruel to one who loves only you?”

  She fell back onto the settee, sobbing. Gwen started toward her but was held back by the maid. “Leave her be. It will pass. Best that you two be off.”

  John nodded and tugged Gwen out the door and past the gate. Only then did he stop and let go of her arm.

  “Wha-What happened?”

  She trembled as he put his arm around her shoulders. “Too many questions. Too much delving into the past. I should not have probed. When she’s lucid, I tend to forget her mood often changes in an instant.”

  “And yet she had the answers you sought.”

  They walked in silence until they reached the manor. John led Gwen into the library, a room smelling of old books. Seating her, he offered her a brandy, and when she declined, he poured one for himself and wandered over to stand in front of the fireplace. What a day. He didn’t want to upset Gwen further but was glad she’d seen the outburst. Perhaps now she’d understand why he didn’t want to have children, why he couldn’t take the chance.

  “How long has she been disturbed?”

  “We’re not sure.”

  “Did Miranda’s first husband tend to her?”

  “No. Jeremy and I didn’t discover her problem until . . .” He paused. “ . . . until she attacked Miranda. Then we realized she had to be confined.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “Nearly three years ago. Jeremy had returned home from Jamaica by then, and I spent most of my time in London.”

  She got up, wandered over to a bookshelf, and placed her hand on the spine of a book. “She seemed to confuse me with someone else.”

  “My brother and I, and Miranda, of course, believe father’s behavior contributed to her condition. He flaunted his mistresses, not caring that Mother knew. The ton will look away if someone is discreet. He was not. There must have been a lot of cruel gossip in addition to the evidence of her own eyes.”

  She pulled a book off the shelf and idly turned the pages. “My father said your mother was delicate. I always thought that meant dainty. Perhaps it was her state of mind he spoke of.”

  “Perhaps. Now you see why we cannot bring her to Woodhaven and why we cannot have children. We must not take the chance that Mother’s madness will be passed on to a future generation.”

  She put the book back in its place and twirled to face him, an expression of disbelief drawing her brows together. “You cannot be serious.”

  “I am.”

  “Are you saying now you don’t want to have children at all? I thought we were merely going to wait until we knew each other better, until our house was in good repair, until we were established in the community. Were all those excuses a means to put me off? The truth, John. I demand the truth.”

  He ignored the tightness in his neck and did not break eye contact. “Yes, Gwen. They were. I wasn’t prepared to explain the real reason. Now you know.”

  “What is it I know? Your mother is insane? I see a woman who has mood swings, perhaps some of them extreme and dangerous. But she is a human being who might have had a peaceful life if it had not been for your father. What if he had been a loving husband? My guess is she would not be in the state she is today.”

  “I cannot believe you’ve come to that conclusion after seeing her. Her kinsman Sean was considered daft, and now we’ve learned her cousin Joseph threw himself from a building. Do people in their right mind do that?” He paced in front of her. “My beliefs are now stronger than ever. Madness can be inherited. I am not willing to take that chance. Are you?”

  She snorted. “I don’t think you are going to like my response.”

  “What is that?”

  “Poppycock.”

  Chapter 31

  Gwen rushed out of the room, ran up the stairs, and burst through the door. Her startled maid threw down her mending and came to her side.

  “What’s wrong, my lady?”

  “Everything. Pack my bag. I am going back to Woodhaven.”

  “Is his lordship going with you?”

  “I do not know, and I do not care.”

  She climbed to the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around her body. Pain lodged in the back of her throat. She desperately wanted to cry, but no tears formed. She jumped back down, picked up a shoe, and threw it hard against the wall.

  “My lady.” Sadie rushed over and picked it up.

  “Does that scare you, Sadie? When I throw something and it makes a pleasant thwack, does it mean I’ve gone mad? Does it?”

  “No, madam. It means you are angry.”

  “Damn and blast. I am more than angry. I am ready to break something. Just like the dowager countess.” She stopped and studied Sadie’s downcast eyes. “You knew! How did you know?”

  “Lionel and Mary told me. They say the dowager went ‘round the bend’ when his lordship died. She’d been moody for years, took to her bed for weeks at a time, then would recover and be all smiles, planning parties, and purchasing curiosities for the house. But his lordship was a womanizer and made no bones about it. After he had his heir and his spare, he stopped visiting her bed. She was a beautiful woman who craved attention. Even worse, she loved her husband. His callous behavior unnerved her. She became morose, and the mood swings began. When he died, she lost touch with reality. It is whispered she may have done some terrible things.”

  “But she wasn
’t born addled. She was driven to it through circumstances.”

  “It seems so, my lady.”

  What is the matter with that man? Why does he not see this?

  She’d earned her reputation as a bluestocking. She’d read everything she could get her hands on, including serious medical treatises, even a few pertaining to the mind. No one linked madness with heredity. It was ludicrous. And yet John, her beloved husband—yes, she loved him—foolishly thought his mother’s affliction would appear in their offspring.

  How can he be so obtuse?

  “Draw a bath and inform the cook I will be dining in my room tonight. If anyone asks, say I have the headache.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Sadie paused. “What about the packing?”

  “Do it later. We shall leave in the morning. I suspect his lordship will be remaining at least another day. We’ll borrow one of the Longley coaches.”

  Sadie scurried away, and Gwen climbed back onto the bed. The truth was she did have a headache, a nauseous one, and if she didn’t lie down, she might cast up her accounts.

  Entirely too much drama today.

  She drew the bed curtains and closed her eyes. A bath would soothe her, and then she could prepare for tomorrow’s journey. The dowager would not be accompanying them. The poor woman was indeed better off in the care of her staff. She would be stifled and might worsen in the care of her rigid younger son.

  A footman brought in the tub, followed by the two housemaids with buckets of heated water. When they left, Sadie brought out a ball of fragrant soap and heated toweling in front of the fire.

  “My stays are tight. I can barely breathe. I must be gaining weight again.” Sadie loosened the offending garment, and Gwen filled her lungs with air.

  “I don’t see how, my lady. Your appetite has been off for weeks.”

  She was right. Food didn’t seem to hold the same appeal anymore. Her mind was too full of mysteries to solve.