Diamonds & Deceit (28 page)

Georgiana paced up and down in front of the window. It was late at night and she had not slept, but she did not feel her exhaustion. Her nails were bitten to the quick. Mrs. Cliffe stood by her, arms folded, an anxious, serious look on her face. Both were listening for any sound from inside the room, but there had been nothing but a deadly silence.

“I can’t bear it,” Georgiana spoke brokenly. “I should have stayed with Michael. I am such a coward.”

Mrs. Cliffe reached out and clasped her hand. “You are no such thing. You are a brave, brave girl, my lady, and I am proud of you. It was my responsibility to care for the staff, and how much more so when the girl was young, and from a foreign land. But my lady, have you forgotten that your sister’s wedding is tomorrow?”

“Oh my goodness!” Georgiana exclaimed. “You are right, and I am bridesmaid. I cannot let Ada down.”

“Of course you cannot!” Mrs. Cliffe exclaimed. “Never you worry, dear. Michael and I can look after Priya. You have a sleep now, and tomorrow early my man will drive you to the station and you can catch the first train. Collins, my maid, will go with you.”

“There’s no need,” Georgiana protested.

“Nonsense.” For an instant Georgiana was reminded of Mrs. Cliffe as the housekeeper of Somerton Court, not the successful author. “No Averley daughter shall travel unchaperoned, not if I have anything to do with it!”

Charlotte hurried after her mother as she swept through the reception rooms, Cooper and Mrs. McRory at her heels.

“I don’t like that wreath there at all, it obscures my portrait,” the countess announced, pausing in the drawing room.

“I’ll have it moved at once, your ladyship,” Mrs. McRory replied.

“Good. For the rest, this room is charming. Is everything in order for the breakfast? The guests will be arriving very soon, and we don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Everything is perfectly in order, your ladyship,” Cooper stepped forward to say. “We are ready to serve as soon as you give the word.”

“Excellent.” The countess led them on, back through the drawing room, into the blue room and the Chinese room, and out into the hall.

“My lady, Lord Fintan has arrived,” Cooper announced. “He is in the conservatory.”

“Already!” the countess exclaimed. “I hadn’t expected him for an hour at least. Charlotte, go and meet him and tell him that Ada will be there as soon as she can.” She swept toward the door.

Charlotte stood where she was.

The countess glanced back. “Well, go on, girl.”

Charlotte turned and allowed Cooper to lead the way. Her heart was beating uncomfortably fast. A tête-à-tête with Laurence was exactly what she had hoped to avoid. It was going to be difficult enough to conceal her feelings as it was. She steeled herself as Cooper opened the door of the conservatory and announced, “Miss Charlotte Templeton.”

Laurence looked around, startled. He was as handsome as ever, dressed in his morning coat. She was reminded of the first time she had seen him.

“Charlotte.” He came closer to her as Cooper withdrew. “You truly can’t help yourself, can you?” he said softly, and raised his fingers to touch her cheek.

Charlotte jerked her head away. She was not sure she would be able to hold back tears.

“Ada is just dressing and will be down as soon as she can.”

“I see. You’ve made certain we would have ample time to say good-bye, then,” he said with an air of contempt. Yet he moved forward, wrapping his hands around her waist possessively. They wandered upward, but she pulled out of his grip.

“I don’t want to say good-bye,” she whispered.

Laurence made an impatient noise. “I’ve told you. I won’t keep on with this—with us—after I’m married.”

“That’s not what I mean. I don’t want to say good-bye the way you want to.”

Laurence stepped back, frowning at her.

“Just a few weeks ago…”

“I know.” Charlotte pressed her hands together, desperate to explain and yet not sure how to find the words. “But things are different now. I feel…I have been unfair to Ada.” She spoke hastily, awkwardly. Suddenly it seemed important to tell the truth. “What happened in the past happened, but let us end our relationship here.”

He smirked. “Righteousness doesn’t suit you, Charlotte.”

“What does it matter? Laurence, we are both to begin new lives now. You with Ada, and I—alone. But I would like us to be friends. You know, as we used to be.” She held out her hand to him, meaning him to shake it.

Laurence moved forward, more gently this time, and she thought he was going to take her hand. He did, but then he pulled her toward him and kissed her on the mouth. Charlotte tried to protest, but she realized she had not the strength.

It was a strange kiss, gentle and affectionate. It reminded her of their first kisses, before their relationship had become a competition, twisted out of its natural shape by the constant scrutiny and demands of the world they lived in. She closed her eyes upon the tears she hadn’t shed and suddenly it was three years ago, and she was so much younger, so much stronger, and light as a feather. She surrendered and gave in to his embrace.

“Where has Charlotte disappeared to?” the countess exclaimed as she reentered the hall. She pointed at Ward, who had just come up from the servants’ quarters. “You. Go and find Miss Charlotte. She should be in the conservatory. Remind her that there is no time for idle chitchat, she is needed to help me.”

Stella hesitated. She was ready to refuse; after all she was no longer in the countess’s service. But, seeing the countess’s commanding finger, she didn’t quite dare. She turned away, annoyed with herself, and walked with quick irritation to the conservatory.

She was glad, though, she thought, that she was no longer working at Somerton. Downstairs, two kitchen maids were in tears, and the first footman was threatening Mr. Cooper with his notice, all because of that slave-driving Mrs. McRory. No, Stella was certainly better off where she was. She made her way through the palm trees, following the rippling of water and the rustling of leaves. The path led her around corner after corner, until she came to the fountain, and saw—

She gazed in astonishment at the sight. Lord Fintan she did not recognize immediately, not until she saw Miss Charlotte’s golden hair, and then it all rushed upon her with the cold clear shock of a wave of fresh water. Lord Fintan was kissing Miss Charlotte Templeton!

She let the leaves fall back at once. She was almost trembling in shock. So it was still going on! The horrible knowledge rushed upon her that she had had a chance to destroy Miss Charlotte entirely, if she had only realized it. If she had only realized that the information she held was live, was current, instead of old news!

Her mind raced. They had not seen her, and as a result there were many possibilities. She chose the simplest and most effective one. Going back out to the hallway, she caught the arm of a maid who was rushing by with armfuls of tulle wreaths laced with orange blossoms.

“Go upstairs,” she told the girl, “and tell Lady Ada that Miss Charlotte wishes to see her urgently in the conservatory. Never mind those garlands—I shall take them to Mrs. McRory. Go on now. Hurry up.”

She gathered in the bundle, and watched as the maid scampered off upstairs. Then, the white garlands held carefully so as to prevent them dirtying on the floor, she went off to find Mrs. McRory.

Ada hurried downstairs, shaking loose a pin that seemed to have become tangled in her hem as Céline was fitting her dress. What could Charlotte want now? she wondered. There was so much to do. The veil was not to Céline’s perfect liking, and now there was a footman in tears over something Mrs. McRory had said or done—and the guests would begin arriving any moment.

Only six hours left,
said a small voice in Ada’s heart.
Tonight, you will be a married woman—married to Laurence.

She pushed open the glass doors to the conservatory, wiping away a strand of hair in the heat. Half running, she went through the conservatory, looking for Charlotte. She caught a glimpse of white muslin through the green fronds and headed toward it.

“Yes, Charlotte,” she began, brushing the palm leaves out of her way, “what is it—”

She stopped dead. The words froze on her tongue. An unbelievable sight met her eyes. Charlotte, in Laurence’s arms. Laurence kissing Charlotte. A moment later she would register the gentleness with which Laurence cradled Charlotte’s body, the soft helpless way in which Charlotte seemed to melt into him. But for now, all she saw was the man she was to marry—in just a few hours’ time—kissing her stepsister.

Laurence saw her first. He gave a horrified, strangled gasp and released Charlotte. Charlotte’s eyes focused on Ada, and she clapped a hand to her mouth, stifling a shriek.

Ada broke the silence. She looked at Charlotte. “Is this what you meant by being a better sister to me?”

The color drained from Charlotte’s face. “I am sorry—I never meant—” she gasped. She turned and ran from the room.

Ada heard Charlotte sobbing as she went. Ada looked back at Laurence. He was standing very still, a frightened expression on his face. She suddenly realized how very frightened he was, all the time. The fear had always been there beneath his veneer.

“I can explain,” he began.

Ada laughed shortly. “Please do. It seemed quite straightforward to me, but perhaps…”

“I love you.” He advanced gingerly.

“Please,” Ada said coldly. “Spare me. Simply explain why you were kissing m-my bridesmaid. My sister.”

Laurence took a deep breath. A politician’s voice rolled out of him. “I will admit I was kissing your sister, but Ada, you have kept me at arm’s length. If only I had been able to satisfy my natural urges through the…normal channels, I would never have fallen for Charlotte’s persuasion.”

Ada stepped back as if he had dealt her a physical blow. Her hand flew up as if to ward his words off. “Laurence!” she exclaimed. “I could forgive anything but this. Are you truly trying to blame me for your lack of self-control?”

“I love you, Ada, and you never let me near you. Who’s to wonder if I stray?”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Ada turned away and walked toward the house with quick, nervous steps. “Tell me you love her, tell me you find me unattractive, tell me anything honest, but not this!”

“Ada!”

“No, I can’t hear another word.” She half ran from the conservatory. Laurence ran after her.

He was desperate, she could hear it in his voice. “Ada, please, forgive me! Ada, this makes no difference to us, does it?”

“I don’t know. I must think!” Ada left him at the bottom of the stairs. Her head ringing with the shock of what she had seen and heard, she raced up to her room, and shut the door behind her.