A Shadow's Bliss (26 page)

“Why? Because I said ‘They'll know'? That could have been a fear of being found out.”

“But why should you fight this Mimi lady, and beg for ‘No more'?”

“Perhaps I was ill, and poor Miss Phillips was trying to give me medicine.”

“But you said, ‘You'll never bring it off,' which must mean you were warning her against—something. Suppose I'm right, and she
was
an adventuress? You might have caught her in someone's cabin, perhaps stealing their valuables. She could have had an accomplice, Johnny, who came in and struck you down from behind.”

“And then kept me bound and gagged for weeks while none of my crew, nor my servants, or the surgeon, or anyone on board noticed that their captain had disappeared?” He shook his head and said with a wry smile, “A lovely drama, but unlikely at best, I'm afraid. And we malign the dead. Mimi Phillips was among those lost, poor soul.” He sighed, then asked, “For how long was I senseless?”

“It seemed an eternity, but I suppose 'twas actually about five minutes. And I begrudge each one, Johnny, for we have so few.”

He said quietly, “And have already used too many. We must go—”

She put her hand over his lips. “Not yet, please! We must plan for our future.”

Taking her hand, he kissed the warm soft palm and said, “This is our past, our present, and our future. There is nothing else. We must face that, dearest love.”

“No! I won't accept that! There
must
be a way for us—what we have to do is to find it. Johnny—help me!”

He looked into her anxious face and said, “I must help you back to Breton Ridge before the gabble-mongers start their tongues wagging about you and the village idiot.”

“But we've scarcely had time to talk, and 'tis so hard for me to see you!”

“We have several days yet. We'll talk again, my dearest. Come—we must get on.”

She searched his face, but it was unyielding, and with a sigh she abandoned her struggle. For the moment. “Are you able to ride now?”

“Quite able, I thank you.” He got to his feet and helped her up, then touched her cheek with one gentle finger and said shamefacedly, “That is going to bruise, I fear. Faith, but I'm a villain!”

“You are,” she said, smiling at him. “Never worry so. We'll say I rode into a branch or took a spill or something of the sort. Now if you will be so good as to throw me up, dear villain, we'll go on, and you can tell me what happened with Falcon and Lieutenant Morris. I've been fairly frantic to know.”

His head swam again when he mounted up, but the weakness soon passed, and as they rode slowly through the bright early morning he told her of his meeting with the two men. He had begun to fear that her brother Howland must be deeply involved in the business, so although he described the League of Jewelled Men, he did so only in a very sketchy fashion, implying that it was probably a group of gentlemen enjoying the practice of free-trading. Lord Hibbard Green, he said, was one of them, and had evidently wanted to expand their operations by building a dock so that the illicit cargoes could be delivered directly to the beach.

Despite his careful censorship, Jennifer's eyes were very wide when he finished. She said a hushed, “Good gracious! What a dreadful thing! Johnny, they plan to use our mine as a storage area! With a dock, they could off-load in broad daylight, pretending their cargoes were supplies for the mine restoration. I must warn Papa!”

“Yes, of course. But not until we can present him with some proof. Falcon has not a scrap of evidence to back up his claim, and you may be sure that Lord Green would deny such a scheme if he was accused.”

“Yes, but—” Jennifer stopped abruptly, it having dawned on her also that Howland was very probably a part of that scheme. She said lamely, “Oh. Is that what Falcon and Lieutenant Morris were about that night you were shot at? Trying to find proof?”

“Yes. I've no doubt they mean to try again, and—”

She clutched at his arm. “And you will help them! Johnny—no! Hibbard Green is a vicious creature. I do believe that if he wanted something, human life would mean not a button to him!”

“Whereas your life and well-being mean a great deal more than a button to me.” He covered her fingers with his hand, and said with grim earnestness, “You may be sure I mean to prevent that scoundrel from endangering either.”

“I think every lady longs for such dear protection, and I thank you for it, love. But I beg you to remember that when you risk your life, you risk mine also. No, do not tell me I must not say such things. 'Tis said, and you are not the only one, my Jonathan, who can set his chin and be immovable.”

He smiled, and touching her chin, said, “What—this dimpled terror?”

“Only look.” She stuck out the “dimpled terror” and summoned her fiercest scowl.

Jonathan threw up his hand in pseudo alarm. “Pray do not! I am quite unmanned!”

“Good. Keep it in mind, sirrah!” It was time for the next move in her campaign. She asked, “Now tell me, are you able to row a boat?” She saw his suddenly fixed look and added quickly, “On the lake, I mean. I won't be able to see you again today, I know. And tomorrow there is to be a breakfast cruise aboard Lord Kenneth's yacht.”

His brows lifted. “I wasn't aware he owned one. The weather should be perfect. You will like that.”

“Usually, I do, for the
Deliverance
is a beautiful boat. But—how can I like to go when I shall miss you so, and 'twill steal our precious hours?”

He said teasingly, “Are you suggesting that I row out and carry you off, buccaneer style?”

“Would that you could. My plan is not so grand, but you know, Johnny, it has been so very hot, and in mid-afternoon everyone takes a nap, so I thought…”

*   *   *

The breakfast cruise was a great success. August Falcon declined the chance for a brief sea voyage, but most guests thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Lieutenant Morris devoted himself to Jennifer and proved an amusing and light-hearted companion. By noon however, the calm surface of the ocean was less calm, and the increasing swells resulted in a sudden flutter among the guests so that the
Deliverance
turned for home, and was soon anchored in her quiet and sheltered cove once more.

At half-past three o'clock, Jennifer sent Tilly away, saying she meant to take a nap. As soon as her handmaiden's sharp eyes were gone, however, she slipped into a gown of blue muslin embroidered in white and worn over many fluffy petticoats. A blue satin riband threaded her frilled cap, and carrying a parasol of pale blue silk fringed with white lace she crept from her room.

No one was about. Elated, she hurried down the stairs, and turning onto the first-floor landing, all but collided with August Falcon, impeccable in leaf green and cream. He put up his quizzing glass and scanned her critically.

“You look the veritable spirit of summer, Miss Britewell, despite the rigours of your ocean voyage. Dare I ask where you are off to in such haste?”

Feeling ridiculously guilty, she stammered, “Oh, er—I thought I might stroll in the—er, gardens.” She smiled and walked on, but to her dismay he turned to accompany her.

“Most of the guests are restoring their strength in preparation for the ball tonight. Are you always so energetic?”

“Do you admire energetic ladies, Mr. Falcon?”

“Oh, no.” Her irked glance brought mischief glinting into his eyes. He drawled, “Am I
de trop?
You are perhaps en route to meet some lucky fellow.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I was hoping to meet Caroline—Miss Morris.”

“What a shocking waste. And doomed, dear ma'am. Miss Morris is not so—ah, energetic as the lovely Miss Britewell. I heard her tell poor Sturtevant she meant to rest before dinner. Never despair. I shall escort you about the lawns—if one could call them that.”

They were almost to the foot of the stairs. The wide hall was deserted, save for a drowsy footman who sat by the front door and sprang to attention at their approach.

Lord Morris left the book room at the end of the south corridor, and started towards them.

Desperate, Jennifer halted on the bottom step, and said, “You are too good, Mr. Falcon. But I—rather fancy to be rowed out to one of the islands.”

He bowed and declared with a graceful wave of his quizzing glass, “Your wish, ma'am is my— Is … my—” He checked. His eyes opened wide. He snatched out a handkerchief, and gave a sudden gigantic sneeze, followed by another almost as violent.

Lord Morris jerked to a halt, and with a look of terror, fled.

Stepping back, Jennifer watched Falcon uneasily.

Over the top of the handkerchief his dark blue eyes, bright with tears, searched about frantically. A large ginger and white cat minced down the banister rail and paused beside him, tail waving in the air, and a feline smile fixed on the afflicted gentleman.

“I due it,” gasped Falcon, retreating in horror. “Curst place is … A-SHOO … fairly crawlig with … A-SHOO!” He abandoned Jennifer and ran up the stairs, calling something incoherent over his shoulder, apparently having to do with Lieutenant Morris.

With the perversion of its kind the ginger cat bounded in eager pursuit of the reluctant object of its affections.

“Nice kitty,” murmured Jennifer, watching it fondly. The footman grinned at her as he flung the door open, and she gave him what he later described in the servants' hall as “a proper captivacious smile.”

Despite the heat of the afternoon, there was a slight breeze, and several guests were not so devoid of energy as to be resting. The grounds presented a charming picture. The buxom matron who had flirted with Falcon at luncheon the previous day sat in the shade of a small tree, her deep pink skirts spread about her, while an elderly admirer clad in purple and silver plied her with sections of sliced peach. Several of the younger gentlemen had shed their coats and were playing pale-maille, their elaborate waistcoats bright in the sunshine. Three damsels in great skirted pastel gowns sat in the shade fanning themselves, and forming an appreciative audience. Recognizing Lieutenant Morris among the players, Jennifer smiled and he paused to wave his mallet at her.

“Come and inspire us to drive through the hoop, lovely lady,” invited another player.

Jennifer shook her head laughingly, and went on towards the narrow dock where a tall coachman waited beside a moored rowing boat.

She had to control the urge to run to his arms, but saw the white gleam of his smile fade abruptly.

“Surprise, my dear lady!” Her heart sank and she had a strong compulsion to moan aloud as that blustering voice rang out. “Here's a treat for you! I am come just as I promised. Say how pleased you are to see me.”

With the sensation that a shadow had fallen over this lovely afternoon, Jennifer forced her eyes from Jonathan's expressionless face. She had no choice but to extend her hand as Lord Green bowed, and he pressed a wet kiss on her fingers.

While he had been a guest under her father's roof, she'd been obliged to treat him with at least a modicum of good manners. Even so, her rejection of his advances would have daunted most gentlemen. Such tactics had not so much as made a dint in the thick shield of his lordship's ego, however. Well, he was not her father's guest now and perchance rudeness would succeed where courtesy had failed. She said, “I will say rather that I am surprised to see you, my lord.”

Ice hung on the words, and Jonathan's lips twitched with amused appreciation.

Green was impervious to insult. He chuckled, as usual refusing to relinquish her hand. “I'll warrant you are. Came through the bushes yonder. Saw a gel I thought was your luscious self, but 'twas some filly sporting in private with her beau.” He bellowed a laugh. “Jolly way to pass an afternoon. But 'tis curst hot out here, m'dear. Come up to the house. Lord Morris has some fine claret I'd not be averse to sluicing down.”

Jennifer wrenched her hand free. “Thank you—no. I've a wish to—”

“Hey!” His moist paw turned her face. “What's this?” he demanded, inspecting the bruise on her cheek-bone.

She jerked away from his touch. “A small mishap.” She had thought to have covered the bruise with paint and powder, but since Tilly had already exclaimed over it, she had no choice but to repeat her explanation. “My horse shied at a shadow and I collided with a branch. 'Tis nothing.”

“'Tis criminal,” he growled, darting a glare at Jonathan. “I knew no good would come of letting this stupid clod escort you. Why does he wait? Get back to work, looby!”

Jonathan said, “I am working, my lord. Miss Britewell sent for me—”

“To do—what?” Green's small eyes rested on the boat. “Ah, so that's your wish is it, my sweeting? How timely is my arrival! I shall row you!”

Jennifer said indignantly. “I did not ask you, sir! Jonathan will—”

“
Jonathan?
Don't dignify him, love. Crazy Jack's the name for that one! Hold the boat steady, dolt, whilst I lift the lady down!”

Jonathan looked from Green's bulk to the small boat. “My lord, I do not think—”

“How could you, when you have no brain? Damn you!” Green fetched him a hard swipe across the shoulder and boomed, “I gave you an order. Do as you're bid!”

Jennifer's indignation ended in a gasp as she was picked up in two massive arms and deposited in the stern. Unable to keep her balance she sat down of necessity as Jonathan strove to hold the rocking boat steady.

Green barked, “Help me down,” clutched Jonathan's arm, and lowered himself.

The boat was sturdy, but under his lordship's weight it tilted and dipped. “Keep it still, imbecile!” howled Green.

Unhappily conscious that an amused group was gathering to witness this debacle, Jennifer said, “I did not invite you to—”