by Lucy Monroe
The other woman smiled, her eyes reflecting genuine welcome. "I hope you will return for tea soon."
"I should like nothing better." Calantha pulled on her gloves. "There is one other item, I could use your guidance concerning."
"Yes?"
"I should like to visit Mary’s grave. Could you direct me to where she was buried?"
Shock and confusion shone on the older woman’s face. Calantha did not understand it. Surely the question was not so odd. Or perhaps it was in the circumstances. No doubt Mrs. Freely found it strange that Jared's current wife wished to visit the grave of his supposed former paramour. She should have considered that possibility but now that she had asked the question, she could hardly retract it.
"She’s not in the church cemetery," Mrs. Freely blurted out.
Calantha had not expected she would be. It made her angry to think of Mary, that sweet innocent, buried among those the church considered damned. However, she refused to refine on it.
She wanted to visit her former friend’s grave, regardless of where it might be found. "I am aware of that, but I assumed your husband would have officiated at the funeral and you would be able to direct me to Mary’s final resting place."
Mrs. Freely frowned. "Have you asked Lord Ravenswood about this?"
"I assure you, I do not need my husband’s permission to visit the gravesite."
Mrs. Freely opened and then closed her mouth, her agitation apparent. "I truly believe you should ask your husband about visiting his housekeeper’s grave."
"Mary was more than his housekeeper. At one time, she was my friend," Calantha assured her.
If anything, her explanation appeared to upset the woman further. "This is most unfortunate. I had supposed you knew about Lord Ravenswood and Mary. You did say you intended to raise Hannah as your own daughter, did you not?"
"A word of advice, Mrs. Freely, appearances are rarely what they seem and perpetuating unsubstantiated rumor on the base of them is as likely to earn you enemies as titillate your friends."
Mrs. Freely blanched. "Of course, Lady Ravenswood. I would not want to be a party to feeding the rumor mill."
Calantha allowed a small smile to crease her lips. "I did not think for a moment you would." She tugged on her gloves and rose to leave. "About the other matter..."
"You did not ask his lordship, I take it?"
"No."
"That explains it. Mary is buried on Lord Ravenswood’s estate, in a small grotto in the garden. Near the rosebushes, if I remember correctly."
At first Calantha could not accept the import of what the vicar's wife had told her. Jared had buried Mary with his beloved roses?
For the first time, she considered the possibility Jared and Mary had become lovers. Surely Jared would have married her in such a case, but perhaps even he had balked at marriage to a woman who had borne an illegitimate child.
Calantha's mind whirled with so many thoughts, no single one taking root long enough for her to reason out its practicality. Interwoven through all of them was the sense that even if Jared and Mary had not been lovers, he loved her as surely as he did not love Calantha.
If there had been the slightest doubt that her husband had loved the other woman, it melted away before such strong evidence of his tender feelings.
With a quick curtsy, a word of gratitude and a smile that signified nothing, Calantha turned to leave.
She regained her carriage, guilt and jealousy at war in her already battered heart. Another woman had known Jared’s love and she felt so envious of that, she was vaguely surprised her skin had not taken on a green cast. That other woman had been her friend and deserved the love of such a wonderful man...thus the guilt.
Calantha wanted Jared’s love, but he gave her his protection and his passion instead. He had not given her his trust, only his belated belief in her innocence.
It was not enough.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"What the bloody hell do you mean, she went to the village with a footman?" Jared roared.
His butler winced and took two steps backward, his hands fluttering at his sides like a woman with a fit of vapors. "I was unaware that her ladyship was not to leave the estate, my lord."
Jared glared at the other man. "She’s not a prisoner, damn it. I’m concerned about her safety."
"But, my lord, she’s only gone to the village, to visit the vicar’s wife," the butler said, his tone implying no harm could possibly come of such an innocuous activity.
"Have Caesar brought round." When the butler didn’t move fast enough, Jared said, "Now, damn it."
The usually dignified man went scurrying from the study. Jared’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He ached to relieve some of his frustration at his independent wife’s actions. She should never have left the estate without his escort, but she obviously did not realize that.
She had blithely called for the carriage and gone to the village without once considering the possibility that the bastard that had tried to hurt her and Hannah had followed them to Raven Hall.
He stormed out of the study, into the hall and toward the front door, stopping as it swung open to admit the source of his frustrated fury.
"Where the hell have you been, woman?"
At the sound of his voice, Cali, who had been walking as if deep in thought, stopped still at the other end of the hall. Roar, more like. He sounded like an enraged bear, the beast the ton thought him, and he could not help himself.
"I’ve been to call on Mrs. Freely, the vicar’s wife."
He felt like exploding. He knew who Mrs. Freely was, damn it and knowing she was the vicar’s wife did not in any way diminish his anger. "Why did you leave without telling me?"
"Did not the servants tell you I had gone into the village?" she asked politely, in a quiet voice.
Her demeanor serene, as if he had not yelled at her like a common bawd, but he noticed she came no closer.
He took care of that by continuing across the hall until he stood less than a foot from her. "They told me all right. Is that supposed to make your bacon-brained behavior acceptable?"
"Bacon-brained behavior?" she asked, her tone frigidly polite, her eyes narrowed.
He was past caring if he upset her notion of proper behavior for a viscount toward his wife. "Yes. I can’t decide if you are addled, or just plain foolish. What possessed you to travel to the village alone?"
"I didn’t go alone. I took a footman." She spoke slowly, as if trying to hold in her own temper.
What good was a footman? "You didn’t take me."
"I did not realize you expected to accompany me on all my calls. I had the impression that you preferred to avoid most social obligations."
He did. "That has nothing to do with it. This is about your safety."
She blinked, but that was all the indication she gave that he had surprised her. Her face wore that damned blank expression, but at least she wasn’t backing away from him. "I was quite safe, I assure you."
"You aren’t safe anywhere but at Raven Hall until the blackguard that tried to poison Hannah is caught."
"But the villain is trying to hurt Hannah, not me. There is no reason for me to be confined to the house."
"You yourself said someone wants you blamed for the villainy. That means they want to hurt you. You took a bloody stupid risk going off the estate without me. What was so blasted important that you risked your life going into the village?"
She pursed her lips. "I did not risk my life."
He just glared at her.
She returned his gaze, her own cool. "I went to ask Mrs. Freely about possible housekeepers and other servants."
"I would have taken you." He managed to say it with a semblance of control, his voice well below a roar.
She peeled her gloves off and put them in her reticule. "If I had known it would upset you for me to go alone, I would have asked you to."
No doubt she spoke the truth. Cali did not enjoy upsetting others. She did not
play feminine games, like so many women among the ton. He reached out and gently pulled her against his body. Damn. He was going to have to apologize. He hated saying he was sorry.
"I shouldn’t have yelled at you."
She stood, straight and stiff in his grip. "I shall not go into a brown study over the matter."
He sighed and tipped her head up with his finger bent under her perfectly shaped chin. "I’m sorry, Cali. I was so dam— deuce afraid when I realized you’d left. It made me angry and I took the anger out on you."
The mesmerizing blue of her eyes shimmered with moisture. Confound it, was she going to cry? He couldn’t stand the thought. He lowered his head, taking her mouth in a gentle kiss. Her lips softened below his immediately and he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer to his body. Her response to him was so honest and overwhelming, he sometimes convinced himself it meant she had feelings for him.
Remembering they stood in the hall where the butler was sure to return any moment and not wanting to embarrass her in front of the servants by allowing the kiss to turn carnal, he lifted his head and pressed her face against his waistcoat.
"Do you forgive me?"
She was silent so long, he thought she would refuse. "Yes."
"Do you promise not to leave the estate without my escort until the bounder is caught?"
She pulled away from him. "What if he has gone completely to ground and you do not catch him? How long will you expect me to live confined to the estates?"
Didn’t she think he could find the bastard? "You aren’t going to be confined. I will take you where you wish to go. Now, promise me."
"Yes."
He pulled her back against him and they remained like that for a long moment of silence.
"Jared?"
"Mmmm?"
"Will you show me where Mary is buried?"
***
Time had taken away the freshly turned look to the earth that covered Mary’s grave, but Calantha could still tell the outline of where her friend had been buried. Even if she had not been able to, the finely carved gravestone marked it well.
"Hannah wants me to plant a rosebush to mark her mother’s grave. I planned to move one of my Apothecary bushes in the winter when the plants go dormant."
So that is why he had responded so strangely to her questions about his Apothecary rose on the night he had first kissed her. She now knew that at the time, he had blamed her for not protecting Mary from Deveril.
She looked at the pretty pink marble grave marker. It had been carved with a climbing rose that outlined Mary’s name, her year of birth and the year she had died. There were no sentimental words, but then the roses said all that needed to be said. "I would have helped her if I had known. I would have tried to protect her."
Jared wasn’t looking at the grave; he was looking at her. "I know, Cali. You’re not at fault. It was all that bas— that bounder you were married to."
"I was a coward," she admitted.
Suddenly she was in Jared’s arms, his eyes blazing into hers. "You were strong enough to survive marriage to a gargoyle. You did not betray Mary. That bastard you were married to did. But he didn’t win in the end. She was happy here. She loved Hannah. You can be happy here too, if you let yourself be."
Is that what Jared wanted, for her to be happy with him?
Calantha felt words welling up in her like the geyser of an underground spring. She had to ask the question. "Did you love her very much, Jared?"
His expression turned inward and he released her. "Mary was my friend. She made me laugh and she was Hannah’s mother and I loved the child. Since the moment I helped Mary give birth, Hannah’s place in my heart has been assured."
"You delivered Hannah?" Calantha could not keep the shock from her voice.
"Mary didn’t tell anyone she was in labor until it was too late to call for the midwife. I live on a country estate, I know the procedure, but Hannah was different from a new foal. She came out, her dark eyes open and solemn and I fell in love with her on the spot."
Calantha had no difficulty imagining such an event. She had come to love Hannah too quickly for rational thinking as well. "She’s a very special child."
"Yes."
"Her mother was special as well. I can understand how easy it would have been to fall in love with her too."
Jared went still beside her. "You think I fell in love with Mary? Do you mean to say you believe she shared my bed?"
Calantha searched his features, looking for the truth of the matter. His words had sounded outraged and incredulous. "Did she?"
"She was my friend, Cali, not my mistress."
"You buried her in your beloved rose garden."
"I didn’t want her buried next to cutthroats and thieves. Is that so surprising? She was my friend and Hannah's mother. She took care of my home. She took care of me. She never feared me. She made me laugh. Hell, maybe I did love her, but not the way you mean and I bloody well never bedded her."
"I didn't mean to offend you."
Jared’s mouth thinned in a fierce frown. "I'm not like the duke. I don't take advantage of the people under my protection. If I had wanted her in my bed, I would have married her. I thought you knew me better than that."
"I..." She didn't know what to say. He was right. He was nothing like Deveril.
"Dam— Confound it, Cali, do you think I'm such a monster I had to stoop to seducing a women in my employ?"
He made it sound as if she had accused him of raping Mary as Deveril had done. "No, of course not. I..."
He turned to walk away, the expression on his face tearing at her heart. "I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes."
She wanted to call him back. She could tell she had hurt him, and that made her own heart ache. She had impugned his honor, but she had not meant to. She was well aware Jared would never take advantage of someone in a weaker position than himself.
He was not Deveril.
It was if the words were burning themselves in her brain. She had withheld herself from her husband because she feared his discovery of her love. Knowing he did not love her, she had not wanted to become vulnerable to him. Why? Jared would not use her love to hurt her. He would not try to manipulate her with it, or mock her feelings. He was too gentle, too caring, to do such a monstrous thing.
She had been hurt when Jared doubted her innocence, but by her own admission she had resented Hannah...at first. He had reason to doubt her. The evidence had been overpowering and still he had been forced to fight his instincts that told him she was innocent in order to protect Hannah fully. At the same time, he had protected Calantha. He had insisted on sleeping with her, holding her and comforting her when she wanted to curl into herself and hide.
She knew deep in her soul that he would not give up looking for the true villain until the blackguard was found. Jared wasn’t so insistent merely on Hannah’s behalf. He was concerned for Calantha as well.
He had warmed the cold places in her soul, given her back her womanhood and she had repaid him with mistrust. She had withheld the one thing she could give him…her love. She had feared making herself vulnerable to him, not because he had ever shown an inclination to hurt her, but because she had judged his motives by old sins. Sins he had never committed. The sins of a dead man.
She had to find him. She had to apologize, not for believing he could love Mary, but for believing for even one minute that he would have an affair with the other woman and not do the honorable thing. She had to say she was sorry she hadn’t trusted him. She didn’t know if she had the courage, but she wanted to tell him of her love as well. He’d given her so much; she wanted to give him her heart.
After saying thank you to a dead woman for taking care of the man Calantha loved for so long and giving her a daughter to love as well, she turned away from the grave. She had taken only a few steps toward the other part of the rose garden when the sound of a metallic click reached her ears. She turned her head to see the source of the strange sound and came
face to face with the Duchess of Clairborne.
Dressed in widow’s weeds and veil, she was nevertheless too familiar a figure to Calantha for her to mistake the other woman’s identity. Ellen held a dueling pistol in her right hand and it was pointed at Calantha’s bosom.
"Lady Ravenswood." The duchess gave an abbreviated curtsy, maintaining a steady aim with the pistol.
Calantha found the sign of civility obscene in the present circumstances and refused to mimic it.
"I should like your company on a small jaunt in my carriage."
"No." She would be a fool to go anywhere with the mad woman.
"I really must insist. You see, my plans are quite set and you are part of them. Besides that little whelp you claim for a daughter will be very pleased to see you."
She had Hannah? Impossible. Jared would not allow Hannah out of the house unless both Lise and a burly footman accompanied her. "I don’t believe you. You could not possibly have Hannah."
The duchess pursed her lips. "Really. How uncivil of you. Your rustication in the country these past four years has undone all the good work Deveril attempted on your behalf. I could have told him he would never make a proper duchess out of you. In fact, I did. He did not listen, of course. Gentlemen are so muddled in their thinking, are they not? So affected by a pretty face that birth and a proper bringing up are entirely overlooked, until it is too late. Do you not realize that a lady does not accuse a duchess of lying?"
The even tone of Ellen’s voice was unnerving, but no more so than the steady hand holding the pistol.
"Perhaps a duchess should refrain from lying."
"In this instance, I am quite above board. The rather large person guarding your little orphan and her feather-headed nursemaid has been dealt with. I’m sure someone will find his and the nursemaid’s unconscious bodies eventually, but that is not important."
Fury welled up in Calantha and her hands fisted at her sides. "You’re the one. You’ve been trying to hurt Hannah, and now you’ve done something to Lise and the footman."
"Really, my dear. All this excessive emotion on behalf of your former husband’s by-blow and a couple of servants. You never did understand who the important people were."