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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

Bedazzled (44 page)

BOOK: Bedazzled
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Diarmid laughed. “I’m flattered that you think so,” he said to the old man, “but I’m naught but a highland lad. I’ll need all the help ye can give me, Dover.”
“ ’Taint the experience, laddie,” Dover told the Scotsman. “ ’Tis the bearing and the attitude, and you have both,” he said wisely.
The only one of the servants refusing to retire was Mrs. Cranston, the cook. “I only replaced Mrs. Dover when she died some eight years ago,” she told India. “I’m years younger than the rest of them as you can plainly see, m’lady, and I’m not ready to be put out to pasture yet!” She stood before her young mistress, hands upon her ample hips, her white cap bobbing vigorously, her plump cheeks red with the constant heat of her kitchens.
“Do you need any more help?” India asked her.
“Well,” Mrs. Cranston allowed, “most of them is young, and suits me fine, but if I might have a pot boy, and one more lass to scrub, I’d be most grateful, yer ladyship.”
“Have you anyone in mind?” India asked cleverly.
“Well, yer ladyship, I do. ’Tis a young niece and nephew of mine that I would place in your service. They’re honest children, and will do their work well, for they’ve had obedience beaten into them by my sister, their mother.”
“His lordship must make the final decision, Mrs. Cranston, but I believe he will concur that your niece and nephew are suitable. Bring them into the house. They will have their wages at Michaelmas, and be given room and board. What are their ages?”
“The lad is nine, and the lass eleven, your ladyship,” Mrs. Cranston replied, smiling broadly, “and I thank you kindly.”
To India’s surprise, her husband did not arrive back home for some five days. Entering the house, he noted many new faces smiling at him. At the evening meal India told him of all the changes she had made, with his permission, of course. He approved it all, and India sent immediate word to the staff as she retired to her apartments to await her husband’s coming. She bathed, and, dismissing Meggie, climbed into her bed.
When he entered her chamber, she was surprised to find he was wearing a white silk nightshirt. “We must talk,” he said quietly, and began to pace back and forth about the room.
“About what?” she asked him, wondering what it was she might have done to displease this strange man.
“Tell me about your first husband,” he said bluntly.
Her heart leapt in her chest. What could he possibly have heard? Had Adrian somehow returned, and exposed her adventures to his elder brother? “What do you wish to know?” she ventured nervously.
“You said he died.” Deverall Leigh was looking directly at her.
“Yes,” India answered. Her fingers clutched at the coverlet.
“How?”
“There was a rebellion in his country,” she answered him. “He was killed.” Her chest felt tight, and she could feel tears coming.
“How do you know he was killed?” the earl persisted.
“How?”
What did this man want from her? She swallowed back her tears.
“Yes. How?”
“I was with my grandmother, Lady Stewart-Hepburn, in Naples. She was arranging for my return to my husband when word came of the rebellion, and that my husband had been killed in it. I never returned back to my husband’s lands again. Lady Stewart-Hepburn returned with me to Glenkirk. I was content to buy myself a house here in England, and live quietly the rest of my days, but my stepfather would not have it. I told you it was he who insisted that I remarry. I did so to escape him, and to regain control of my own wealth. Nevertheless, my lord, I shall endeavor to be a good wife to you in all ways. We need not be enemies.”
She had thought him dead.
But that did not solve the problem of how she got to Naples, although he was certain it was in the ship stolen by Thomas Southwood. He pressed her further. “Just who was this man to whom you were wed, India? What was his name?”
India closed her eyes a moment to regain her composure. Then, looking directly at him, she said, “My husband’s name was Caynan Reis, and he was the dey of the Barbary State of El Sinut. Are you content now, my lord? I was a captive, and I was made the dey’s wife because we fell in love with each other! Are you horrified? Will you divorce me now that you have discovered that I was the beloved of an infidel?”
“How did a dey’s wife get to Naples?” he demanded. “Is it not unusual for a woman of the harem to be allowed to travel so far?”
“What does it matter how I got to Naples?” India cried. “Why do you pursue this matter, my lord? Why should you care?”
He ceased his pacing, and sat down upon the bed next to her. Taking her face between his two hands, he said to her,
“Regardez moi,
India.
Look at me!” The blue eyes softened. “Do you not recognize Caynan Reis in Deverall Leigh? The beard is gone, and I have a scar, but can you not see me, my love?”
Her eyes widened in shock.
His mouth!
His kisses!
That was what had been niggling at her all this time. “You bastard!” she hissed venomously at him, pulling away from his hands, leaping naked from the other side of the bed. “You bloody bastard! How could you have done this to me? And you say you love me?
Iwill kill
you!”
Reaching for the nearest object at hand, she flung the bowl of roses at him.
“ ’Tis I who should kill you,” he shouted back at her, ducking, “but not before I find out what you did with my child!”
“Your child? Your child!”
she shrieked. “Is that what this has been all about?
Your child?”
Grabbing up her silver hairbrush, she hurled it at him. “Why could you not have come to Glenkirk to reclaim me? Do you know what I have suffered over you,
my lord?”
Her eyes cast about for another object to throw at him, but the room was virtually empty of such trinkets. She bared her teeth at him, moving about the bed toward him. Then she launched herself at him, fists pummeling him, nails seeking out his eyes.
He would have laughed at this naked fury if the situation had not been so serious, but now he realized if he did not calm her anger, and indeed his, nothing would be resolved between them. He caught her hands in his, and, forcing them to her sides, wrapped her in his embrace. “India, India,” he pleaded. “There is some terrible misunderstanding between us, and we must rectify it. Stop struggling, you little wildcat, and tell me how you got to Naples? It was with Tom Southwood, wasn’t it?”
She squirmed against him, pulling half free of his grasp. “I can say nothing if you persist in smothering me,” she snarled at him.
He loosened his grip slightly, but not enough so she might do him a mischief. “How did you get to Naples?” he repeated.
“That fool of a cousin of mine learned of a small section of wall that surrounded your garden that opened onto a narrow public street. He had wheedled the information out of Aruj Agha by means of flattery. He came with one of his men the night of the terrible storm. I told him I loved you. That I was content to remain in El Sinut. I tried to reason with him. I might have cried out, if indeed the guards could have even heard me over all the thunder that night, but he was my cousin. I did not want to be responsible for his death. It meant nothing to me that he chose to escape El Sinut just as long as he left me in peace, but no, Tom would not listen. He assaulted me, knocking me unconscious, hauled me over that damned wall, and dumped me in Naples. Meggie came, too, rather than be left behind.
“Once we were in Naples I told Lady Stewart-Hepburn the truth, that I loved you, and was with child. I had never had a chance to tell my cousin that I was
enceinte.
Cat, that is what I call my stepgrandmother, agreed that I should go back, but then we heard about the rebellion, and were told that the dey had been killed. When I learned that, I nearly died myself. Cat brought me back to Scotland, but when Glenkirk learned of my condition, he banished me to the family’s hunting lodge in the mountains with Meggie and Diarmid. My sister, Fortune, insisted on coming with me, and there we remained until Rowan was born.”
“Roman?”
He stared down into her face.
“Our son.
I named him after my father,” she said softly.
“Where is he?” Deverall Leigh demanded.
“I do not know,” India replied, her eyes filling with tears.
“You do not know?
Madame, what have you done with my son?” he shouted at her angrily.
“I have done nothing. Glenkirk took the lad from me shortly after his birth, and hid him away. He would never say where,” India told him, her chin quivering with her emotions. “But none of this would have happened if you had come to Glenkirk to reclaim me instead of playing this perverted game with me! Why, my lord? Why have you done this to me?
Why?”
she sobbed.
“Because I am a fool,” he said sadly. “I thought you had deserted me, India, had willingly gone off with Captain Southwood. Baba Hassan, and Azura defended you, but I would not listen.” He told her of his stepmother, and why he had been unable to trust women.
India sighed sadly. Then she asked him, “But how is it you were able to return to England, and how on earth did you get that scar on your face, Deverall?”
“Adrian is responsible for my return. He caught a fever, and I revealed myself to him. When I did, he told me that it had been a plot of my stepmother’s to kill Lord Jeffers, and blame me so he might inherit. MariElena did the deed herself with poison. Then she implicated my brother, who was still a child, by having him place the knife in a dead man’s chest. Adrian dictated a confession, and signed it. I kept it for myself, and had no intention of returning to England; but the janissaries had learned of my warning to the sultan, which had put an end to their plans to overthrow him and his mother. They sent troops from Algiers and Tunis to invade El Sinut, and the sultan looked the other way. I was to be sacrificed to their revenge. Fortunately, Baba Hassan learned of it just in time, and arranged for my flight. On our way to the harbor I was surprised by a young janissary eager to make a reputation. The scar is from his cowardly blow. Fortunately for me Aruj Agha was nearby. He killed the assailant, and I was able to make good my escape.”
“But what of the others in the palace?” India asked.
“Aruj Agha promised to see they were taken care of, and as he has been appointed the new dey, according to my sources, I think we can both rest assured that they are safe,” the earl told his wife. Then his arms tightened about her again. “Do you know how much I love you, India?”
“But you do not trust me, my lord, and I do not know if I can forgive you that,” she said quietly.
“I will never mistrust you again,” he vowed, and, tipping her face up to his, he sealed his words with a kiss.
“Diarmid!”
India suddenly cried, breaking away from her husband. “Diarmid will know where Rowan is, for it was he who took the baby away at my stepfather’s request.”
“Glenkirk would not harm the lad?”
“No,” India said firmly. “His only purpose in taking him was to make certain I appeared respectable to you. One reason I mentioned my
first
husband was that I hoped to gain your respect, and perhaps even your love eventually. Then I would have told you of the child, and asked to bring him here to raise with our other children. My mother swore she would learn where the child was hidden, and make certain Rowan was all right. I did not desert our son willingly, Deverall, and I did what I could to find him. At Glenkirk, however, it is very different from here in England. No one will oppose the duke. Their loyalty is strong. Many are bound by family ties of one sort or another. I did my best for Rowan, and now I long to hold him in my arms!”
“In the morning we will question Diarmid, madame,” he said. “Then we shall go north together to regain custody of our child,” he promised her, smiling for the first time.
“Send Diarmid ahead,” she told him. “They plan to go to Ireland this summer to seek a husband for Fortune. If we do not get word to them before they have gone, no one will help us. It is probably already too late, I fear.” And her eyes filled with tears again.
“Diarmid’s loyalty must be to Oxton now,” the earl said quietly. “He will tell us, and then we shall fetch our son ourselves, India. This I promise you, my beloved. We do not need Glenkirk’s permission. And I will always trust you from now on, my darling. Look what my foolishness has almost cost us both.”
“And my foolishness, too,” she admitted graciously. “We must make a memorial for Adrian. Poor boy. Had he not eloped with me he would still be alive today.”
“Had he not attempted to elope with you,” he corrected her, “we should have never found each other, and I should not have been so bedazzled by my love for you that I came across two seas to be reunited with you, my beautiful first wife.”
“Your beautiful
only
wife,” she said, laughing up at him. “You had best get used to me, Deverall Leigh, for you shall never have another wife!” Then Lady India Anne Lindley-Leigh kissed her husband passionately, and Deverall Leigh, earl of Oxton, knew that she spoke the absolute truth.
Epilogue
OXTON, SUMMER 1629

I
am forgiven then?” the duke of Glenkirk asked India.
“Deverall has convinced me it is the right thing to do, my lord,” she replied.
“But you are still angry at me,” he said. “I know you were born of Rowan Lindley’s seed, India, but I am the father who loved and raised you after his death. You and Fortune are every bit my daughter as any born to me. What I did was not out of unkindness, or cruelty. I did what I thought was best for my daughter. Please, poppet, it has been the worst year of my life believing you hated me, and would hate me forever.”
“If Deverall had not turned out to be the dey of El Sinut,” India said, “I might have lost Rowan. I cannot help but wonder what Rowan Lindley might have done in this situation. You did not trust me, my lord. Would he have? You did not listen. Would he have? I know it has turned out all right, but if Deverall had not been Caynan Reis . . .” she sighed.
“I know,” he replied, “but my grandson was safe, India. Flora More is a good woman, and took good care of Rowan.”
“It is true, she did,” the duchess of Glenkirk said, coming to stand by her husband’s side. “Besides, India, you were parted from your son but five and a half months, not five years. Deverall was Caynan, and you regained your child. Stop dwelling on what might have been, and be glad for what is,” her mother said sensibly.
The ice that had been encasing India’s heart suddenly cracked as she looked at her son toddling about the gardens, his nurse in pursuit. Rowan Leigh, the future earl of Oxton, was a sturdy little boy with his father’s dark hair and deep blue eyes. At seventeen months of age he was a happy little boy who would never have any memory of his few months in a highland cottage. Her mother was right. The worst hadn’t happened.
“Will you promise me never to doubt any of your children again,
Papa?”
India asked him.
“I swear it!” the duke of Glenkirk said fervently, kissing his daughter’s hand.
“I shall hold you to it when Fortune finally goes in search of a husband,” the countess of Oxton warned her father. The infant at her bosom murmured impatiently, and, laughing, India switched her daughter to her other breast. “Adrianna is such a little piglet,” she said, gazing adoringly down at her week-old daughter.
“And every bit as beautiful as her mama,” Deverall Leigh said, coming to stand by his wife’s side. Then he smiled at his mother-in-law. “I believe, Jasmine, that your granddaughter has your turquoise eyes, although I am told it is too soon for me to tell. Still, I see that unique shading in Adrianna’s eyes.” He touched his daughter’s tiny dark head with a gentle finger.
“Let us hope she leads a quieter life than we have led,” the duchess of Glenkirk said dryly.
“The great-great-granddaughter of Skye O’Malley?” James Leslie said with a chuckle. “I think not, madame. I think not! Adventure seems to be in the blood of this family’s women. Heaven only knows what hazards and risks this pretty wench will take when she is grown.”
“She might turn out to be like Great-aunt Willow,” India said. Then she saw the twinkle in her husband’s eyes, and, hearing the unrestrained laughter bubbling up in her parents’ throats, the countess of Oxton was forced to concur. “You are right, Papa. You are doubtlessly right. Not
the great-great-granddaughter
of Skye
O’Malley!”
BOOK: Bedazzled
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