A Clandestine Courtship (16 page)

“A race,” he said, pointing to three boats on the lake below as they emerged from the trees.

“It’s Amelia and Caroline.”

“And Miss Granger.”

Mary grinned at his lack of enthusiasm.

“Who is rowing her?”

She shaded her eyes. “Colonel Davis’s grandson, Vincent.”

“Why isn’t he on the Peninsula with his father?”

“The two older boys are, but Vincent is the family black sheep.”

He laughed. “What did he do?”

“Turned his back on generations of tradition by refusing to buy colors. Instead, he is studying for the church.”

“Black indeed,” he agreed on another laugh. Her eyes were glittering with pleasure in a way he had not seen in ten years.

“Absolutely. I doubt Colonel Davis has gotten over the shock yet, though Vincent made the decision five years ago. He’s spent long breaks with the colonel since his mother died.”

The race was nearing the halfway point, with all three boats rounding the island. Harry was in the lead, with Edwin and Vincent only one length behind. Feminine shouts of encouragement echoed across the lake.

The crowd swelled along the shore as the boats raced back. The gentlemen had removed their close-cut coats, which would have hampered their rowing. Muscles rippled across their shoulders as they dug the oars deep into the water. One of the girls on the bank swooned at the sight of so much undress.

Harry was losing ground.

“Not enough time in Gentleman Jackson’s boxing saloon,” murmured James.

Mary’s expression revealed her conviction that Harry spent all his days in boudoirs.

“He is not
that
bad,” he protested. “But he is more interested in marksmanship than boxing, so he gets little exercise in town.”

“How did you know what I thought?”

“Reading your mind, Mary. It isn’t the first time. Was I wrong?”

She shook her head, then blushed.

“Almost to the finish.” He ignored her discomfort. “Come on, Edwin. Two good pulls should do it.” Edwin and Vincent were still neck and neck, though Harry was now half a length back.

“He won!” Mary laughed as Edwin shot ahead.

Actually, Vincent had swerved off course. At the last moment, Lucy had leaned over the side to better see the finish line, throwing the boat off balance and pulling one oar out of the lake. It sprayed her with water as the boat twisted, losing momentum and letting both opponents cross ahead of them.

Lucy’s shriek disturbed the dearly departed in the Ridgefield churchyard two miles away. “Clumsy oaf! You’ve ruined my gown!” She jumped to her feet, brushing frantically at the spots.

Vincent stammered an apology.

“Sit down, Lucy,” ordered Sir Maxwell, pushing through the crowd. “It’s only a little water. And it’s your own fault for upsetting the boat. Sit down before you fall in.”

“Water ruins silk!” wailed Lucy, ignoring him as she twisted to survey the damage. Tears coursed down her cheeks. “How could you be so horrid? I should never have gone rowing with you!”

“Why would anyone wear silk to a picnic?” asked Mary as they ran toward the lake. Everyone within hearing of that screech was doing the same thing. She stumbled, grabbing James’s arm to steady herself.

“Undoubtedly it’s a new gown,” said James absently, ignoring Lucy’s megrims. Mary’s grasp on his arm tingled clear to his toes. Yet he dared not respond lest drawing attention to her continued grip raise new fear in her eyes.

“Stupid.” Mary shook her head. “This is her most idiotic display yet. And her mother isn’t much better,” she added as Lady Granger’s screams joined Lucy’s.

“Somebody save my baby! She’ll drown!”

Lucy was counting water spots, dancing up and down as her hysteria mounted.

Vincent was trying to calm her, but she remained deaf to his instructions, rocking the boat so badly that he had no chance of reaching her. “Sit down,” he finally ordered in exasperation. They were only ten feet from shore, but he could not pull them closer without knocking Lucy into the water.

“Spiteful boy! You’ve ruined it,” sobbed Lucy. “On purpose. My newest gown. How could you?”

Everyone on the shore was shouting for her to sit down. Harry and Edwin helped their passengers out, then returned to the lake.

“Grab her!” shrieked Lady Granger, realizing that the other boats would never arrive in time. “Don’t let her fall.”

“Sit down, Lucy!” shouted Sir Maxwell, his face red with fury. No one in attendance would dream of offering for the girl now.

Vincent inched forward, swaying to counterbalance her antics and steady the boat.

“Get out!” cried Lucy, abandoning the spots. “I hate you.” She slapped him, rocking the boat sharply to the left.

“Sit down!” Sir Maxwell’s bellow made the onlookers jump, but Lucy ignored him.

Vincent grabbed the gunwale as the boat swung hard to the right, then lunged forward in an attempt to tackle her.

“Stay away. Don’t touch me,” Lucy cried, jumping onto the seat. “You’ve caused enough trouble.”

She retreated another step and fell into the lake.

Lady Granger swooned.

Harry arrived and pulled Lucy up by her hair. She choked a couple of times, then screamed.

“The water can’t be more than waist deep,” Mary called.

“Thanks.” Harry shifted his grip to Lucy’s arm. “Stand up.”

She kicked her feet, screaming louder.

Edwin maneuvered close enough to grab the other arm. They dunked her.

“Stand up,” growled Harry when she came up sputtering. “You are perfectly safe, but you are making a complete cake of yourself and risk becoming a laughingstock if you do not pull yourself together.”

One of her feet hit the bottom and she gasped.

“Stand up.”

The moment she got both feet under her, they dropped her arms.

“Now walk.”

“Poor girl,” murmured Mary

Lucy slogged toward shore. Her gown clung to her unprepossessing figure. Weeds dragged at her legs. Hair dangled down her back. When she noted the size of her audience, her face flushed.

Someone coughed. Several of the younger guests giggled.

“That’s cruel,” snapped Mary.

“Even though her own silliness brought this on,” agreed James. He glared at the laughers, silencing them. It was the first time John’s reputation had worked in his favor.

Mary released his arm, backing away a step. He bit back a sigh, feeling how she distanced herself, though not as far as usual. One small step of progress. There was no need to rush, he decided, clasping his hands behind his back so they would remain under his control. The day was already a success.

“May I get you some refreshments?” he asked, turning from the lake. Most of the company followed.

A glance over his shoulder spotted servants wrapping Lucy in a rug. Her hysteria revived as they carried her to the house. But no one cared.

The rest of the afternoon passed peacefully enough. Lucy never did return. The surprise was a play performed by a traveling theater company against the backdrop of the ruins. But while it was quite charming, its drama paled beside Lucy’s theatrics. Lady Granger had gotten her wish. Her picnic was the most memorable event of the summer.

 * * * *

“I had no idea Frederick was so irresponsible,” said Justin, joining Mary in the drawing room that evening.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you let me leave the country instead of asking me to help with the estate. I should have known better – and would have if you had kept me informed.”

“Sit down, Justin.” She waited until he reluctantly dropped into a chair. “First of all, leaving the country was your decision. We did not even know of it until after you sailed.”

“What? I only transferred because Frederick pointed out that I could advance faster in a fighting regiment. We discussed it for months before making a decision.”

So Frederick had wanted Justin out of the country. Had he hoped to hide his wealth, or was he trying to conceal his dishonorable activities? Justin’s first regiment had been stationed near London. “He did not inform us. But to address your other complaint, his faults were not your concern. Nor was the estate or the barony. Even if you had known exactly how things stood, he would not have welcomed interference in his affairs. Now suppose you explain what brought on this surge of guilt.”

“I heard stories today,” he admitted. “Frederick and I never got on, which was one of the reasons I bought colors. He wasn’t a particularly nice person, but I was shocked to discover that he all but abandoned you. Carousing in town was bad enough, but he rarely stayed at Northfield even when he was in the area.”

Their previous talk had dealt mostly with the present conditions and future needs of the estate, she realized. She had said little that would reflect badly on his brother. “It doesn’t matter,” she insisted.

“But it does. How could he have ignored his responsibilities?”

“He did not want them.”

“But why would he waste his life when he could have enjoyed Northfield?”

“What did you hear that upset you so badly?” she asked. When he hesitated, she continued. “I doubt there is anything you can tell me about Frederick that I do not already know.”

“He and John were friends.”

She nodded.

“Ralph Adams claims that the pair often cheated at cards. There is hardly a lad in the area who did not lose to them, sometimes large amounts. And Mitchell swears they robbed men who had consumed too much wine.”

“It fits his character.” That explained how Frederick had supported himself in London. But fleecing people was dangerous. Had someone retaliated?

Justin repeated more gossip, but she already knew the rest. The only surprise was how much the neighbors knew about her private life and Frederick’s – which confirmed her decision not to question the servants. They would never remain quiet about it.

Once Justin had expended his indignation, she elicited his promise to question Isaac about Frederick’s death.

“Don’t let him manipulate you,” she warned. “I turned him down this afternoon, and despite his conviction otherwise, I have no intention of changing my mind.”

“Determined, is he?”

“Pigheaded.”

“I knew an officer like that. He refused to believe any intelligence that cast doubts on his battle plans. It killed him in the end. Too bad he took so many good lads with him.”

She slept better that night than she had in weeks. Justin was nothing like his brother.

 * * * *

James poured wine before joining Edwin by the fire. Harry had decided to make an early night of it.

They sat in companionable silence for several minutes while he considered all the ways John could have acquired several barrels of fine French brandy. Edwin finally spoke.

“Caroline claims John seduced innocents. Lady Northrup banned him from Northfield.”

“So I’ve heard. Does Caroline know anyone John seduced?”

He shook his head.

“Doesn’t it bother you that you cannot understand so much of what she says?” James asked, changing directions. He had not bared John’s worst crimes to his friends, not wanting to reveal the blackest marks on the family name.

“When she is calm, she speaks quite clearly. Only excitement bothers her, or fear. You probably upset her, but she will grow out of this trouble. It would be gone already if her brother hadn’t provoked her so often.”

Was Edwin’s interest becoming serious? James frowned. Caroline Northrup was a beautiful girl, but she would never manage in society. What man wanted a wife who could barely function in company?

Yet he had to admit that Edwin did not enjoy London. He was happiest when grubbing about his estate, digging for antiquities. Before meeting Caroline, he had talked of visiting Shrewsbury, which occupied the site of the Roman town of Viroconium.

“To prove that her suspicions of you were unwarranted, I told her about that orphanage you set up in Naples,” Edwin continued, swirling brandy so the candlelight sparkled through it.

“Where did you hear about that?” He deliberately unclenched his fists. He hadn’t thought anyone knew about the place, and was vaguely embarrassed to be discussing it.

“Meeker mentioned it,” he said, naming his valet. “Your valet recounted the tale at dinner one night to prove that the staff was wrong when they swore you were uncaring.”

James turned the subject by asking Edwin about the Roman lighthouse near Dover.

It was too late to recall the tale, though revealing it served little purpose. No one could verify its truth. And it wasn’t quite as altruistic as Edwin thought.

His stay in Naples had been delightful, in part because of his odd friendship with the working-class Portinis. Luigi Portini had been a man of many trades, one of which was a guide. His fascinating tales had kept James in the area longer than he had originally intended. Luigi had also been fearlessly loyal. When a band of brigands had attacked them, Luigi had tried to protect his employer, sustaining crippling injuries.

James had been appalled and unable to suppress his guilt. After all, if he had not asked to visit Mount Vesuvius, they would not have encountered the brigands. So he had hired Luigi’s wife Maria as his cook and housekeeper, hoping that time would improve Luigi’s condition. He had also hired caretakers for Luigi and their eight children. But Luigi never recovered. When Maria died shortly before he left Naples, he had set up a trust to provide for the Portini family.

Luigi had passed on six years later. The four older children were married or established in business, but he continued to provide for the rest and for two young cousins Luigi had taken under his wing.

Hardly an orphanage.

CHAPTER NINE

James trotted along a narrow lane, heading for the place where John had died. If he was going to start at the beginning, then he must look at the murder site.

It had snowed heavily on Christmas Day, though it had been tapering off by the time John had gone out. But his errand must have been urgent to drive him into even a waning storm.

James frowned. The lane was hardly more than an overgrown track, providing access to remote grazing areas and a shortcut to an estate in the next shire, but it was rarely used. It would have been difficult to follow when covered with snow, so why had John been here?