Family Scandals (34 page)

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Authors: Denise Patrick

BOOK: Family Scandals
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Corinna looked up, startled. Julianna had not been at Miss Ridley’s when she had pulled the prank on Annabelle, but she had heard of it. It had apparently become the stuff of legends, because Cassie had informed her the story was still told to new girls who came to the school.

“I do, of course,” she responded. “I’m not sure I will ever forget her.”

Julianna giggled. “I suppose that she’s not likely to forget you either, but I saw her the other day. She’s Lady Pannerton now. She said she was only in town for a few days to do some shopping. She’s increasing and Lord Pannerton is insisting she retire to his estate in the Lake District. I’m not sure she wants to go, but her mother is going along with her.”

“It’s probably for the best, although I don’t know that she was ever enamored of the country. I remember how much she disliked being at Miss Ridley’s. Of course, I didn’t help when I pulled that prank on her, but at least she left me alone after that.”

“I heard she was really horrid to you before that,” Julianna said.

Corinna shrugged. “In retrospect, she wasn’t really, but she had no way of knowing what I was used to at home.”

Julianna was silent for a few moments, regarding Corinna through soft brown eyes. She seemed to be weighing something. Finally, she sighed and appeared to make a decision.

“You do know the
ton
thinks you have treated your family shabbily,” she stated.

“How so?” Corinna poured herself another cup of tea.

“I’m sure you know there’s been nothing overt, but there is speculation about why they weren’t invited to dinner before your ball at the beginning of the season. And people have noticed you never speak to each other.”

“Oh.” Corinna sipped her tea.

Julianna regarded her with wide-eyed surprise. “Do you not care at all?”

“No.”

Corinna knew better than to tell Julianna her life history. Despite being a friend, she knew Julianna would repeat anything she said. After all, the
ton
thrived on gossip.

After Julianna left, Corinna reflected on the progress of the season and the tangled threads of her life.

She had never expected to move in the same circles as the rest of her family, so she had never speculated on what she would do if she encountered one or more of them. Unfortunately, fate had worked against her, and now she was forced to consider the possibility. For that reason, she found herself recently thinking more and more about what she might say or do should it happen.

Luck had been on her side so far. Although she was aware of Diana, Ellen, and even Phillip, at a few of the balls she attended, she had managed not to come face-to-face with any of them. She was not vindictive and did not want revenge. She merely wanted to leave the past behind and move forward with her life. Remembering her run-in with Ellen over her mother’s rubies, she had been relieved to hand them over to Eliza. It would be just her luck, she mused, that had she worn them,
that
would have been the night she encountered Ellen face-to-face. Eliza, on the other hand, had no such misgivings and had worn them to the theatre only two nights ago when Ellen had been present.

It was unfortunate that her past seemed to be converging on her all at once. She had been particularly disturbed the other night and next morning when she had seen Vincent, and not just because she had seen him. It was because she was sure the woman she had noticed on his arm had been Diana. She wasn’t positive because she had only seen the woman from the back, but a sixth sense told her that her initial hunch had been right.

She knew that if she had to create a list of people who were likely to truly hate her and want to do her harm, Vincent and Diana would top it. Seeing them together had set off warning bells in her head. Bells that would not stop ringing, no matter how safe she felt with Marcus and her new family.

 

 

Marcus stood in the doorway of the Barrington House drawing room watching the five women clustered around the tea tray. Eliza, Felicia, Amanda, Charity and Corinna were all laughing uproariously. He was joined by Trent, Brand, Jonathan and Angus.

“What’s so funny?” Jonathan asked him.

“I wish I knew,” he answered.

“As long as whatever they’re laughing at doesn’t include us, I don’t need to know.” This last came from Brand.

“That’s unfortunate,” Trent added, “because I find that when a group of women find something amusing, it usually means some unfortunate male is the subject.”

“Perhaps we should ask?”

That question, coming from Angus, drew amused looks from the other four. It was Trent who responded, “Spoken like a true babe.” Clapping the young man on the shoulder, he said, “Don’t ask unless you’re ready for the possibility that the answer is ‘you’.”

Marcus winced. He was sure that not much more than a year separated he and Angus, but he understood Trent’s meaning.

“So, do we join them or stand here and enjoy the view?” Jonathan inquired mildly.

Trent chuckled. “I don’t know about the rest of you youngsters, but I rather enjoy my wife’s company.” And with that, he strolled toward the group of women.

Watching the other three do the same, Marcus realized he, too, enjoyed his wife’s company, and moved to join them. He wasn’t sure when he realized it, but his feelings for Corinna were changing. He did not doubt his initial feelings had been of protectiveness and desire. The desire was still there, but the protectiveness had evolved into caring. Idly, he wondered when the caring had taken root and become need, for he had admitted to himself that he needed her. She had become an indispensable part of his life in a short period of time and he wondered if this new dependence was, indeed, love.

He would not be surprised if it was. She had become the healing balm on his open wound. The nightmares featuring Douglas and Lord Mayo no longer plagued him. He no longer awakened with a feeling of dread when it came to facing the day. There was a new purpose to his life and he knew she was the reason. Her very existence had given him a new lease on life and he intended to enjoy it to the fullest.

As the men joined them, Corinna turned to watch him approach. He didn’t have to guess at the expression in her eyes. He didn’t know if she knew how easily he could read her expression, but she didn’t try to hide her growing feelings.

 

 

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

For the last three days Corinna sensed that all was not right with Julianna. She seemed withdrawn and worried. When Corinna asked if there was something she could do, Julianna had responded there was nothing wrong.

If Corinna hadn’t perceived there was something wrong initially, Julianna’s response, delivered in an artificially bright manner, would have confirmed it. Her husband had returned to Brookside, the family’s estate near Oxford, to consult with her father on some purchases for improvements, and Julianna had no idea when he would be back. Corinna wondered if her initial impression that all was not well in the Barber household was right. Julianna seemed to genuinely miss her husband.

“Why didn’t you just go with him?” Corinna asked now. Seated in the conservatory of Julianna’s home on Park Court, they were enjoying the uncharacteristically bright afternoon sun.

Julianna looked up from the cup of tea she had just poured. She had a haunted look about her that seemed at odds with her behavior.

“He did not want me to miss out on the season,” she replied. “He will only be gone for a few days.”

A sudden loud noise out in the hall had Corinna turning and looking behind her as the door to the room opened to admit the butler.

“Beggin’ your pardon, my ladies. It was just one of the footmen moving some items. One of them dropped something. No need to worry.”

“Th-thank you, Tindall,” Julianna replied in a shaky voice.

Corinna turned back to her hostess. Julianna looked relieved, and handed Corinna a cup and saucer with trembling hands.

“I should have asked,” Julianna said, “how you like your tea. I’m afraid I just assume everyone likes it like I do with plenty of sugar. Is it all right?”

Corinna wasn’t certain how to assure Julianna it was fine other than to drink the tea, regardless of what it tasted like. It was a bit sweeter than she normally preferred, but she couldn’t bear to add to the troubles Julianna already seemed to have.

“Do you expect your husband home today?”

Julianna’s eyes darted toward the door. “I think he is due back by this evening,” was the reply. “Why?”

Corinna found the question odd, but answered, “Just wondered.” Putting her cup down, she tried another topic of conversation. “And how is Joseph doing?”

“He-he’s fine,” Julianna answered. “He is back at Brookside with my parents now. Vin th-thought the city was not a good pl-place for him.”

Corinna picked up her teacup and finished the contents, then returned it to the small table before her. Julianna watched her closely, then took a sip of her own.

Julianna’s behavior was beginning to worry Corinna. She seemed nervous and jumpy, glancing at the door every few minutes as if she expected someone to come through it. Corinna wondered if she should leave Julianna to solve whatever problem she seemed to have, but suddenly found she was too tired to move.

“I think I should go,” Corinna said, but she couldn’t make herself rise from the sofa. Her eyelids felt heavy and, all of a sudden, she couldn’t think clearly.

Julianna watched her intently, and Corinna watched the young woman’s eyes fill with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Julianna said, her voice a tortured whisper as the tears began to fall. “I didn’t want to, but I had no choice.”

Corinna’s brow furrowed as she tried to understand what Julianna was telling her. Why was she sorry? And why was she crying? The door opened behind her and Julianna jumped up from her seat. Corinna tried to turn to see who had come in, but her body wouldn’t obey her. Her limbs felt weighted, and her thoughts had turned sluggish. The last thing she remembered before oblivion overtook her was Julianna looking down at her, the expression on her face a mixture of terror and regret.

 

When Corinna slumped over on the sofa, Julianna looked up to watch her husband approach. Wringing her hands helplessly, she watched him check to see that Corinna was unconscious before pinning her with his dark, emotionless gaze.

“Wh-what are you g-going to do with her?”

Her husband smiled, but there was no warmth in the expression. “You do not need to know that,” he replied. “All you need to know is that the traveling coach is waiting for you out front. Now go.”

She hesitated, glancing down at Corinna’s prone figure as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. It was a mistake, and she moved quickly to rectify her error, but it was too late. The backhanded slap knocked her back into the chair she had just vacated.

“I said, go!” he snarled, and this time she did not hesitate.

Getting to her feet, she flew out of the room, collected her cloak from Tindall, and hurried out to the traveling coach waiting by the curb. As she came down the stairs, she nearly bowled over a young woman passing by.

Looking up, she was momentarily disconcerted by a pair of gray eyes that reminded her too much of Corinna. “Ex-excuse me,” she stammered, then entered the waiting coach. Seconds later, they were moving and, within moments, the square was left behind.

“Did he hit you again?”

Surprised, her head snapped up and she found, to her relief, her maid, Bonnie, sitting across from her. Wiping more tears from her cheeks, she bit her lip and did not respond. There was no need. Bonnie could probably see the bruise she suspected was already forming. Leaning her head back against the squabs, her face averted, she watched London roll by in silence.

By the time they reached the outskirts of London, the sun was beginning to set, and she had regained some of her composure. Out of her husband’s orbit, she began to wonder why he would ask her to do what she did. He hadn’t told her why he wanted Corinna, but now, for the first time, she speculated as to what he might do with her. And that speculation caused her blood to run cold.

She had to do something. But what? Her stomach lurched and she experienced a sharp wave of nausea. Leaning forward, hands folded over her stomach, she took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Are you all right, m’lady,” Bonnie asked. “Shall I ask the coachman to stop at the next inn?”

Opening her eyes, she looked up into the concerned face of her maid and friend, and nodded. Bonnie turned and conveyed her wishes through the trapdoor. A short argument ensued with the coachman, but Bonnie won the day and a short time later they were slowing down to pull into an inn yard. The weathered sign above the door proclaimed that they had stopped at The Green Cat.

She was shown into a private parlor while Bonnie requested tea and biscuits. As the innkeeper’s wife turned to leave, she asked for some writing supplies. Bonnie looked at her curiously for a moment, but said nothing as she followed the woman from the room.

A few minutes later, Bonnie returned with the requested paper, pen and ink.

“I need you to find someone here who can take a message back to London,” she told her maid. “But you mustn’t let the coachman know what you’re doing. It has to be a secret.”

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