A Dangerous Masquerade (28 page)

             
‘I’m not dreaming?  You won’t go away?’

             
‘Jane West may take my place for a while.  She is your nurse – but I shall not be far away.  You should sleep, Constance – unless you would like something to eat?’

             
‘Perhaps later.  I’m so tir…’

             
Her words were unfinished as she fell asleep mid sentence.  Moraven smiled as he looked down at her.  She was ill but she seemed to be past the crisis.  They had found her just in time.  Perhaps someone had been looking after her – perhaps there was a kindly God after all.

Constance sighed as the soft hand touched her brow.  She was having such a pleasant dream and she didn’t want to wake up, but something was calling to her.  Opening her eyes, she saw that the sun was streaming in at the window and a young woman in a grey dress was standing by her bed.

             
‘Hello…have you been looking after me?’

             
‘Yes.  You’ve been quite ill, Lady South.  Your fever broke once but then it came again and we were very worried for a few hours, but I think it has finally gone.  You were cool when I touched you.’

             
Constance pushed herself up against the pillows.  Her body felt as if it were bruised all over but she no longer felt ill and her head had stopped aching.

             
‘I think I am better.  Was I dreaming – or was the Marquis of Moraven here earlier?’

             
‘He has only just left you again.  We have looked after you together.  When I am here he rests and eats, then he returns.  He is devoted to you, my lady.’

             
‘Oh please call me Constance.  I cannot be formal with you when I may owe you my life.’

             
‘I think it was the marquis and Jim – the head groom here who did that, ma’am.  Had they not found you when they did you might have died.’

             
‘Yes…’ Constance shivered.  ‘Someone attacked me.’

             
‘You were ill already.  Had you lain in the rain all night you would surely have died.’

             
‘The sun is out now.  Has the storm worn itself out?’

             
‘It did that yesterday.  You’ve been here for two days and three nights.’

             
‘I had no idea…’ Constance frowned because she could not remember much of the past few days.  ‘I think I hadn’t eaten and then it kept raining…’

             
‘Would you like me to bring you some food – a nice warming broth would revive you.’

             
‘Yes, thank you.  I’m not sure if I’m hungry but I will try a little.’

             
‘Is there anything else I can do for you in the meantime?  There is a commode behind the screen.  Shall I help you – if you can walk?’

             
‘Yes, I should like to try.’  Constance pushed back the covers and put her feet to the floor.  Her first attempt made her dizzy and she sat down with a bump, but after a moment her head cleared and with Jane’s help she managed the walk to the dressing screen.

             
‘I think I can manage now.’

             
‘I’ll fetch your soup, but if you feel dizzy stay where you are and I’ll help when I return.’

             
Constance thanked her.  She took her time with her ablutions, because she felt weak and did not want to end on the floor, causing more work for her kind nurse.  However, she was by way of holding on to the wall and various pieces of furniture able to make her own way back to the bed.  Sitting back against the pillows Jane had thoughtfully plumped, the exhaustion washed over her.  She closed her eyes.  It had taken all her strength to achieve a very small triumph, but she would do better next time.

             
Her mind was struggling to cope with all that had happened to her in the last few days.  As she waited for Jane to return, she relived her nightmare journey after leaving Jonathan’s family home.  If the earl was not willing to release Jonathan’s money, Moraven must have convinced him that she was entitled to her husband’s money.

             
Constance hoped it wouldn’t be too much.  She didn’t feel that being Jonathan’s nurse deserved a fortune and she would rather not have taken a penny, but her attempts to find work had made her realise that she was vulnerable.  With a small amount of money she could set up as a seamstress and earn her living honestly.  She would accept only what she needed to keep a roof over her head and food in the larder.

             
Moraven had been searching for her since he learned that she’d come to England – why?

             
She wasn’t in the least surprised that he’d saved her from her attacker, brought her here and seen to it that she was cared for while she was ill.  She had always known that he would look after her if she permitted him to – but why had he returned to France in the first place?  Had he gone to find her?  Was he still interested in making her his mistress?

             
Constance felt a little flicker of hope.  She had thought at first that he believed her easily bought, but he had offered her ten thousand pounds – the bank draft that Heloise had so foolishly destroyed.  He must care for her a little to do that surely?

             
She did not wish for huge sums of money from him or from the earl.  All she needed was a home and a modest income and she was willing to work for her living…but if she could be with Moraven for a while.  If he truly cared for her and she was not just one of many, then she was willing to be whatever he wanted.

             
Constance had formed a warm affection for Jonathan, but she would never have married him if he hadn’t begged her to let him make her safe.  She’d wanted to ease his mind, to make his last days happy, and she believed she had, as much as was possible.  He’d been too young to die and her heart bled for the waste of life – but she would not have married him if he’d been in good health.

             
She was in love with Moraven.  He might not want her to love him, but she did – could she be his mistress and protect herself from heartbreak?  The answer was probably no, but to walk away from him would be too painful.  He must choose whether he wanted her or not.

‘Oh good,’ Jane said a little later that day when she returned to discover that Jane had eaten all her broth and the bread and butter she’d sliced thinly to tempt her.  ‘Are you feeling better now?’

             
‘Yes, much.’  Constance smiled at her.  ‘As soon as I smelled your broth I was hungry and I ate it all.  I like good soup – did you make it yourself?’

             
‘Yes. My husband is partial to soup and we have it most days as part of our meal.’

             
‘I made soup most days in France.’

             
‘I have always wanted to know how the French make that delicious fish soup of theirs,’ Jane said.  ‘My husband was in France fighting with Wellington for a while and he says no one makes fish soup like the French housewives.’

             
‘I have a recipe, which I will give you,’ Constance said.  ‘The secret is to use everything – even the shells of the prawns and langoustines, also the heads of the fish.’

             
‘The heads?’ Constance looked horrified.  ‘I would never have thought of using heads or shells in soup.’

             
‘You remove and strain of course, but it adds to the flavour – though there are other ingredients.  You may find some of the herbs difficult to find here.  The best way is to grow them yourself from seed.’

             
‘I have a herb garden,’ Jane said looking eager.  ‘I think we have much in common, my lady.’

             
‘Yes, I think so.  Which is another reason why you should call me Constance.  I do not like to use the title – I was married only for a short time.  My husband died of his wounds in France.’

             
‘My husband was wounded fighting Napoleon, but he was lucky and he came home.’

             
‘Then you were fortunate,’ Constance said.  Obviously, Jane thought her husband had died in a similar way.  She thought it unnecessary to tell her the truth.  ‘Have you seen the marquis?  I should like to speak with him when it is convenient.’

             
‘He went out earlier.  I shall ask him to come when he returns – are you comfortable with the night-gown I brought you, ma’am?’

             
‘Yes, thank you.’ Constance smiled.  ‘It is good of you to lend me your things.  Those I had with me were stolen – but I have some things in store at Dover.’

             
‘I think the marquis is making arrangements for some clothes, ma’am.  He took charge of the gold watch and chain you had tucked into your bodice.  It is quite safe.’

             
‘Thank you.  I am glad I chose to carry it that way.  Had it been in my bag it would have been stolen with the other things.’

             
Constance realised that she could ask Moraven to sell the watch for her.  He would not be cheated, nor would he be accused of theft, as she might.

             
She lay back against the pillows as Jane left her.  She was no longer as tired as she had been and would have liked something to read, but she doubted that either Jane or the landlady had a volume of poetry or even a gothic novel that she might use to pass the hours.

             
She closed her eyes with a sigh.  Lying in bed wasn’t her favourite way of spending the day.  She had always been up and busy long before this hour, but she didn’t feel quite strong enough yet.  Perhaps tomorrow or the next day at the latest.

*

  ‘If you will accept my advice you will keep to your bed for a week,’ the physician told Constance when she asked if she might get up.  ‘You were very ill, young woman, and you need to rest.’

             
‘I thank you for your care of me,’ she said and smiled.  ‘I believe I might have died had you and your daughter not cared for me so well.’

             
‘Jane did most of it, my dear – and your friend was most concerned to see you well again.  You are in safe hands and need not concern yourself about taking the time you need to recover.’

             
Constance thanked him again, sighing and lying back against her pillows when he left her to sleep.  In truth she was tired and there was no point in hurrying from her comfortable bed when she did not know what she would do once she was on her feet again.  Once, she would have been too proud to accept help from Moraven, but now she could do nothing but thank God that he had come looking for her.  At this moment in time she had no energy for anything and must be content to let him order her life.

             
He walked in as she had settled it with herself that she would not fret, looking down at her with a frown.

             
‘The doctor tells me you wish to get up but he advised against it.’

             
‘I did not want to be a trouble to anyone,’ Constance said with a sigh, ‘but in truth I think I must do as I am told for I have no energy.’

             
‘You will certainly do as you are bid,’ Moraven replied.  ‘I have no intention of allowing you to go anywhere until both Jane West and her father tell me that you are fit enough to be up and about.  Surely you have not taken such a dislike of me that you wish to put some distance between us?’

             
‘Of course I do not.  It is nothing of the sort.  How could you think me so ungrateful after all you have done for me?  You must know that I…’

             
‘I know very little, Constance,’ he said and sat on the edge of the bed to hold her hand.  ‘Except that I behaved badly in Paris.  I was jealous and you know my temper.  I thought you had some fondness for South…’

             
Her hand wriggled in his but he held it firmly. Her trouble gaze met his.  ‘I saw him as the brother I never had, Moraven.  In the end I married him only because I believed you had gone for good and he begged me to let him provide for me.  At first I refused, but then I saw my precarious situation distressed him and you told me to take his offer.  Why did you do that?’

             
‘Because I am a damned fool,’ Moraven said and the look in his eyes made her hand tremble.  Once again she tried to withdraw it but he refused to let go.  ‘I left the bank draft and a letter, explaining that I would always be available to you if you needed me.  I have been told that your servant destroyed both.’

             
‘I thought you must have taken the draft back until Pierre told me that Heloise had destroyed your papers.  She had no idea what she’d done because she could not read.  She thought that I would be safe when I married Jonathan, but he had little money with him and his bank would not release it unless he collected it himself.  He was too ill and even when I had my marriage papers they still refused me.’