“Halifax informed me.”
He wanted to shake her. Instead, he held her apart from him, and looked into her brimming eyes. “The fact that you believed him disturbs me. This pain inundates my heart drop by drop.”
“Wolferton, help me. I’m alone.”
“You are not alone. I am here now and forever for you. Stop the nonsense.”
Then he did what he should never have done…he kissed her. Her hands clutched his face. Tears streamed down her high cheekbones. The kiss was soft, and then became a sensation for both of them to seek the other for solace, desperate, needy, and like a priest who grants a penitent forgiveness and salvation, the moment satisfied.
“I believe you. Sing me the lullaby again, please.” Her arms draped around his neck as she sobbed intermittently, her body limp from emotional exhaustion.
“Shush, my angel. All will be well.” It was for her benefit but inside a volcano screamed for release from that devil of a man. Halifax would pay for his deceitful lies and it wouldn’t be painless. He had pushed Wolferton too far. Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord, but he was ready to assist heaven.
Chapter Forty-Six
A Lie Revealed
The maid’s cheery voice awakened Jaclyn. “Good morning, mistress.” She stretched her arms. She remembered falling asleep in Radolf’s arms. Mentally exhausted, she wanted to return to slumber, but her mother would visit this morning.
Heavens! She jumped out of bed like there was a large toad under the covers.
“Hurry, Sedona. I don’t want to be late. Please fetch the sweetheart lavender dress. But for the jewelry, I’ll wear my father’s cross.” She wouldn’t give that woman the satisfaction to know she admired and kept the black opal necklace.
Jaclyn prepared herself for the encounter with the woman who abandoned her, but nothing could hide the vitriol in her heart. A part of her wanted to remember her mother in only the best of ways. The search for the goodness fell flat because all her life her mother never really cared. It hurt at the realization that she was no better than a worthless relative. Even when she argued that Claudette—that’s how she thought of her now—gave her ultimate life, the bile still formed in her stomach and caused her to gag. How would Jaclyn react one day if she found herself in a family way within the bonds of marriage?
If it weren’t for Radolf she’d be a nothing. How would she have survived at age eight – on the streets—alone—a beggar, a pickpocket—or worse—a prostitute? She fell to the floor on her knees near the bed, tented her hands, and prayed. Heaven had a reason to save her. She believed that with all her heart. She inhaled to compose herself. “Guide me, please. Hail Mary, full of grace…”
It bothered her that the Guardians had been with her since birth but she never really knew them as supernatural entities. She assumed they were part of the Catholic upbringing of individual guardian angels. She couldn’t count the times the nuns said, “If you are tempted to do wrong, pray to the guardian angel on your shoulder, who will guide you.” So strange now.
A blessed calm covered her. She arose, walked to the door, and left the room. Down the staircase she went, held to the banister rail for added strength. At the bottom of the steps, her boots clicked across the polished floor to Radolf’s study. His door was open. She stepped forward and tapped. He raised his head, pushed back his chair, and went to her.
“You’re pale, Jaclyn. Are you sure about this visit? I can send her away.” He clasped both her hands, and she saw the pain etched on his face, for her, only for her. He cared. Radolf cared for her. Holy Mother, he did.
“I’ll be in the drawing room when she visits. It’s larger and there’s more space. I’m feeling like walls are closing in on me. I’ll get through it and then she’ll be gone forever. Have you told Halbert?” She wrung her hands together a few times. Her heart hammered. The pounding in her head strengthened with each passing moment. She relied on Radolf’s courage and assistance.
“Let me walk you to the room and get you settled. I’d tell you to think pleasant thoughts, but you’re too distraught. Hear what your mother has to say and respond with the truth. It will be over soon.”
He turned her around and propelled her toward the room. Then she laughed, like it used to happen in the convent when something went wrong, and she had to face Mother Superior. In those days, she walked slow and afraid, but today she was older. She quickened her steps. Halfway there, she leaned on him. The pressure of his hand on hers gave her the strength. Now in the room—it might well have been a cell, she went to the large backed leather chair, sat in front of the desk, and waited.
“I read somewhere that in such a situation, I should leave space for us, lots of it. I won’t arise and curtsy, nor will I smile. I’ll fold my hands on top of this desk. I’ll wait for her to speak.” Jaclyn scanned the room. “What is this desk doing here in this room? I’ve not seen it before.”
“I had it moved for such a purpose. It’s meant to intimidate,” Radolf said with a bright smile. “For courage. It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”
“So this is who I am? A needy woman? No, I’m strong enough to endure this, but I wish this were over.” She glanced at him. “You are special, Radolf. Thank you. You may leave now so I can compose myself.”
Radolf left the room. Jaclyn heard the sound of the knocker on the double doors to the manor which signaled a visitor. Moments later, at the door, Halbert announced, “Miss Moreux, you have a guest, Madame Claudette Montblanc.”
“Show her in,” were the words that escaped Jaclyn’s lips, but it appeared they belonged to someone else.
Madame Montblanc swept into the room in a rustle of silk skirts. She was dressed in the highest European fashion. Jaclyn studied the woman’s face, but saw no softness or most of all, any affection. What prompted her to visit here? Certainly not to see Jaclyn. Maybe the woman felt a duty to see the only child she had? She stopped in front of the desk. “Jaclyn, this is a surprise for you, so I forgive you for not rising to embrace me.” The pheasant feathers on her brimmed hat quivered as her mother sat, removed her gloves, and placed them in her reticule. She leaned forward. “You’ve grown into a beautiful aristocratic woman. If I had kept you with me, it might not have been so fortunate for you.”
The silence deafened, and her mother returned her gaze to Jaclyn, who unfolded her hands, leaned back into the chair, and raised an eyebrow. “Madame, for that lapse on your part, I am most grateful.” Heavens, she’d called her mother Madame. “Kindly state your business here.”
“I see you wear your father’s cross. I liked it when we purchased it, and it looks well on you.” Madame’s voice remained cool, assured and in control.
Jaclyn thought she’d experience some strong emotion, a tinge of love, a wisp of happiness; instead it became a dose of reality. She dismissed the notion to tell her mother how important this visit was to her. How it frightened her and how she really needed to know her mother missed her all these years. In truth, this woman represented a complete stranger, but Madame’s eyes swept the well-appointed room as if she were going to procure some of the items.
“General Montblanc and I are en route to Budapest to represent the French Court. I hired a solicitor to locate you, and here I am. Do try to be civil, Jaclyn.”
Words flew before she could think them. “It’s rather late for cordiality. Why are you here?” She steeled her voice, her spine, and her heart.
“Call it a pang of conscience. I wanted to see how you fared with that man as your guardian. This is a stately manor house and it would appear that Wolferton inherited well. Are you content here in your new circumstance?”
Jaclyn owned the arctic freeze in the air. “The man to whom you refer, the Duke of Wolferton, and his sister, Lady Hattersley, treat me like a family member. I’m accepted at the highest levels of society. How do you fare, madame? Do I take it you’ve married your paramour?” Her innuendo barbed, but Jaclyn warmed at the immense satisfaction of retaliating
for all the pain her mother had inflicted on her and her father. Her words struck a chord in her heart. Now the only emotion she experienced was anger. Unwittingly, she no longer cared about the woman who birthed her. Paying her back assuaged her soul.
“I did not come here for any other reason except to know you were in good care. Do you not intend to marry?” She scoured the room again.
“At the moment, Lady Hattersley, Camille, who is like a mother to me, plans my formal introduction to society. I’m not sure I want marriage, since I do not have a good female role model to follow.”
“Touché, Jaclyn. However, you are more of age than most young women. By the bye, Lord Halifax asked me to convey his high regard to you. He offered me the use of his carriage for this visit.”
At the sound of Halifax’s name, Jaclyn stiffened,
“He indicated he wished to call on you, but you’ve not responded to his letters. I take it you are not fond of him?” If her mother’s words were a reprimand, Jaclyn was ready to tell her where to go and what to do when she got there. Most unladylike; somehow she curbed her temper.
“Yes, that is correct. Madame, I would like to ask you a question should you choose to answer it with the truth. Halifax has informed me that once you were a mistress to His Grace, Wolferton. Is that true?”
Madame Claudette arose from the chair and went to a window, her back to Jaclyn. “Shall we say you are a silly young lady engaged in a cat and mouse game with an experienced woman of the world? I did not come here to apologize for abandoning you. I came here because some small part of me was curious about your safety with your benefactor.”
She turned and peered at Jaclyn. “If it’s truth you want, then truth you shall get. No, I was not his mistress because he wouldn’t have me.” Madame reached for a handkerchief. “However, I’ll give you one piece of advice. Halifax is a fortune hunter. He’s mentioned your generous dowry many times during the short time we’ve been acquainted. I deem him most dangerous to an inexperienced young woman such as you. He’ll ply you with lies and flatteries. Now that I’ve satisfied myself that you are in respectable hands, I will take my leave. You will never see me again, rest assured, Jaclyn.”
Madame went to the desk. “I wish circumstances were different, but it’s too late. I can see that.” She lifted her head and prepared to leave. “Now, if that rascal Wolferton is in residence, perhaps you can have your servant advise him that I wish to see him before I leave.”
Taken aback by all the circumstances, Jaclyn’s head swam. She blocked tears.
Her manner decomposed, Jaclyn started to rise, but was interrupted by a voice in the doorway. Wolferton entered with a flare of his lace-cuffed hand. “Madame. Your visit is unexpected.”
She curtsied.
He nodded.
“I never thought the three of us would meet again. Thank you for your dedicated care to Jaclyn. I see that she prospers and is in good hands, Your Grace.” Madame walked around to Jaclyn, who stood still as a stone. “I wish you happiness. Goodness knows it’s such a rarity in these times.”
At the thought that her mother would kiss her, Jaclyn stepped back.
“I understand.” Madame blew her a kiss. “Wolferton, could you escort me out to the corridor?”
Somewhat startled, he offered his arm.
Madame Claudette spoke in short breaths, “Keep that blackguard Halifax away from Jaclyn. He’s heavily in debt. He’s already gone through his small inheritance. He’s sought by the collectors at the men’s clubs and in need of quick blunt. Guard Jaclyn.”
Jaclyn, held spellbound, gaped at the woman who gave her life. Underneath all the makeup and finery, it became apparent her mother’s life had not changed for the better. A pang of sorrow wrenched her heart, but she steeled herself.
Moments later, Wolferton re-entered. “You’ve survived. The ordeal wasn’t what you thought.” He grinned.
“You listened to the entire conversation I take it.” She ran to him. “Thank you, I felt safe in the knowledge you were there.”
“Now that we have that behind us, I wonder what is next. Life with you around is never dull, Jaclyn. If you value my life, do not encourage Halifax, for one of us is destined to leave this earth.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Radolf’s Mother’s Letter
Satisfied at the outcome of the visit by Madame Montblanc, Wolferton took a moment to relax. The stress of her sudden appearance settled on his shoulders, and he flexed those muscles to loosen them. Pleased, he could now address other issues. He opened his desk drawer for a parchment and saw his mother’s letter in a corner. Rather than delay the matter further, he withdrew it and placed it uppermost on his desk.
Camille walked by, and he hailed her. “Sister, I’m alone. Do come in for a chat.”
“I wanted to find Jaclyn to see how the conversation went. Madame Montblanc looked as the saying goes, starched to the hilt.”
“Where are the Dupree’s?” Wolferton asked.
“I had Major Anderson take them for a ride to the village. He was curious about the mercantile stores and I felt it better to keep them entertained.” She eased into the chair across from him.
“I overheard most of the discussion and Jaclyn was resolute.” He cracked his knuckles and reiterated most of the conversation.
“What a serpent’s tongue Halifax has. I would never believe such an allegation.”
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Wolferton slammed the desk, and the inkwell skittered a couple of inches, almost spilling its contents. “Of course not, but I’ll decide how I handle him. I’ve let him have his way too long.
The silence filled the room. Mea culpa.
A bit calmer, “I no longer wish to speak of the subject. This is mother’s letter. It’s time to banish all the demons and deal with whatever happens.” He removed the seal with his dagger opener and unfolded the envelope.
My dearest Son:
This letter is difficult for me to write. If you were here, I could ease the burden of the pain it will cause, but I’m not sure how long I will survive. To understand why I married your father would take a lifetime of explanation. Sufficient to say, I should not have. You’ve seen the bruises I’ve always tried to hide. The man didn’t have an ounce of kindness in him, only cruelty in all that he did, but especially to me with his brutal demand for intimacy. I tire of his disregard for myself, for you and Camille, but I never allowed him to crush my spirit. He hated that your schoolmaster said that you had a lot of my qualities. Your father demanded that you follow in his footsteps, and there were times he and Mister Fishhorn almost came to fisticuffs. The fact that he was a famous tutor to the wealthy no longer held a mystique for your father. He had hired the best of the best and was disappointed in the curriculum established.
Then one day, I was informed that Mr. Fishhorn had tendered his resignation and left for the city. It seemed strange to me that there were no goodbyes, no forwarding address, and no request for references. A few weeks later, I read of his death at the hands of footpads who beat him unmercifully. It is also my contention that your father paid the footmen to kill the schoolmaster. Enclosed is the newspaper article.
I ask that if you read this, understand I do not wish to disparage your father, but it is time for you to know the truth. It is not the easiest thing to keep your head high when you have such a husband. I did this for my children. Know that with all my heart, I love you and your sister. Know also that I feel that my life is in danger. I suspect him of poisoning me. I cannot fathom why unless he wishes to marry someone else.
I worry about Camille in your absence, but there is nothing I can do. Perhaps, she will receive mercy and heaven will find a way to help us all.
Remember, you are and always have been a good son—a little wild but not unlike other boys your age. Your failing was that your father molded you to his image. Radolf, you can rid yourself of those qualities for you are my son also. I carried you for nine months and rejoiced in your
birth. Remember who and what you are. It is never too late to change errant behavior if your heart is pure. Oh, how I long to see you. I pray nightly for your return to my bosom.
Your loving Mother
“So that’s what happened to our schoolmaster. What a terrible death for so fine a man.” He looked to the stained-glass window. No winks or blinks.
“It’s a shock. Our poor mother endured his wrath for our sake. What will you do now, brother?” she asked as he now held the ornate heart-shaped key.
“Let my anger subside. I can’t kill a dead man, but I can curse him to hell.” The words Spawn of Evil came to mind. He turned his chair around and stared at the guardians. No motion or movement of light. Did they agree?
He arose from his chair and started to pace. “I wish there could be fond memories for the man who sired me. Since that is not possible, all I can do is forget he existed.”
Camille went to him and smiled. “You’ll wear out the rug, although that might not be bad since it is rather worn. Banish those demons to where they belong.” She embraced him, and he wiped a tear from her cheek.
Suddenly, he felt weary of his life and slowed his breath. “I won’t abide pity, sister.”
Camille moved back, and her hand went to her throat. “I do not pity you for I love you for the goodness of your heart. Without you, I might have followed in Mother’s footsteps. Let us rid ourselves of these morose thoughts. We are much alive.” She laughed with a loud voice.
“Pray tell, what is humorous?” He tilted his head toward her. Something was indeed amiss in her solitary life.
She hesitated. “I’ve mentioned that I wished to abandon my embroidery and take up a new past time. The needle stitches tire my eyes and my fingers ache. I haven’t quite decided, but I’d like it to be something adventurous, something different. Perhaps writing a journal the way Jaclyn does.” Her voice faded away, and her shoulders sloped. “Maybe I can write a book?”
The Blue-Eyed Black-Hearted Duke Page 22