Lady Sabrina’s Secret (18 page)

Over the following days Deborah embarked upon the daunting task of trying to forget the Duke of Gretton, but then, almost a week later, something happened to make that task totally impossible.

The weather had undergone another change, and instead of the balmy spring sunshine of recent weeks, there was wind and rain. In the cove the sea was stormy, with
thundering
waves and screaming gulls, and in the shelter of the St Mary Magna valley the smoke was torn from the cottage chimneys as March roared out like a lion.

Deborah was seated in the winter parlor, with the volume of
Vathek
open on her lap, She wore a high-necked gray velvet gown with long sleeves and a wide gold-
buckled
belt around the waistline beneath her breasts. The locket was at her throat, her dark hair was twisted into a knot on top of her head, and there was a warm white shawl over her arms. The fire drew in the hearth as the wind moaned outside, and she gazed at the flames as they
fluttered
audibly around the logs. She had read two pages of the book, but that had been over an hour ago. Since then
her thoughts had wandered, to Bath, and inevitably to Rowan.

She was still stricken to think she had allowed herself to hope so very much. It was now quite clear that he had never intended anything as far as she was concerned, and she had been guilty of immense naivety in interpreting such a great deal from so little. The embraces by Lady Ann's house had been simply the subterfuge he had described them as, and the kiss in the conservatory had been of no consequence whatsoever. She was mortified to think of how obvious she had been in her feelings toward him, so obvious that Mrs McNeil had immediately perceived, and so had Kate Hatherley, the latter to such an extent that she had felt obliged to issue a timely and
devastating
warning.

The wind blustered around the eaves, and a shower of sparks fled up the chimney toward the lowering sky, where endless dark clouds raced inland from the sea. Beyond the village the windswept cliffs were bleak and exposed, and from time to time she could hear the distant roar of the foaming sea in the cove. She turned to glance out of the rain-washed oriel window toward the heights above the shore, and as she did so she heard a carriage driving at speed along the village street. It was coming toward the house.

Puzzled, she put her book aside and went to the window to look down into the street. The traveling carriage was a costly vehicle, its dark green panels spattered with mud from the open road. Its team of four chestnuts was tired and sweating as the coachman began to slow them in order to maneuver the vehicle before the door of the house. As the carriage wheeled about Deborah saw her brother
Richard inside.

Richard? But why had he come to St Mary Magna? She pressed her face to the glass and watched as he alighted. He paused for a moment, glancing toward the church where once he had been Jonathan's best man. He wore his brown greatcoat with the collar upturned, and his tall hat was tilted back on his dark hair. He looked a little strained, she thought, guessing immediately that something was very wrong.

As she looked he turned to extend a hand into the carriage, and a moment later Sabrina stepped down, her rose woolen skirts fluttering as the wind snatched at them. There was a jaunty straw bonnet on her head, but her manner was anything but jaunty as she clung anxiously to Richard's hand. Her face was very pale and wan, and she had obviously spent a great deal of time crying.

A pang of foreboding struck through Deborah as she gathered her skirts to hurry from the winter parlor and down through the house to greet them in the great hall, where Briggs had already realized a carriage had arrived and was going toward the door.

Reaching the foot of the grand staircase, Deborah halted, watching as the butler admitted her unexpected guests. The wind blustered damply into the house as Richard ushered Sabrina inside.

Briggs was pleased to see him again. ‘Why, Master Richard, what a pleasure this is …' he began, but his voice died away as Sabrina suddenly saw Deborah and hurried across the stone-flagged floor to seize her hand.

‘Please tell me you've heard from Rowan! Please!' she implored.

‘I … I haven't heard anything, Lady Sabrina.'

Sabrina's lips trembled, and distraught tears welled from her eyes. She turned instinctively toward Richard, and he hurried to take her in his arms, enclosing her in a
comforting
embrace.

‘It's all right, my darling, we'll find him,' he murmured reassuringly.

Deborah looked anxiously from one to the other. ‘What has happened?' she asked.

Sabrina drew herself together. ‘Rowan hasn't been heard of since the night Richard returned to Bath. He hasn't sent word to anyone, and no one has any idea at all where he might be.'

Deborah stared at them both. ‘But surely someone must know.'

Sabrina shook her head. ‘It's so unlike him, Mrs Marchant, for he is always so meticulous about letting me know where he will be, even to the extent of his visits to Mrs Hatherley. He always felt that if something went wrong and I needed him urgently, then I should know where to send word. As you know, he left word with the butler that night that he would be visiting North Parade, but that is the last we have heard.'

Richard met his sister's eyes. ‘It's becoming very
worrying
now, Deborah, for it is totally out of character for him to go away like this. We know that he spent a little time with Kate Hatherley, and that when he left her he said he was coming home to Royal Crescent. But he didn't arrive there, and both he and his curricle have simply
disappeared
. Sabrina and I have dispensed with any pretense about our relationship, for she has needed me with her these past days. I fear that the precautions to keep
Uppingham's tongue from wagging have proved pointless, for the whole of Bath is now aware that we have long since ceased to be mere acquaintances. The teacups are rattling, as you may imagine, for there is a great deal for them to rattle about. There is not only the business with Uppingham, but also the sudden advent of Lady Ann's daughter, my close friendship with Sabrina, and now Rowan's disappearance. Bath hasn't been in such a state of scandalized turmoil in many a year.'

Sabrina dabbed her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief. ‘I don't care about the gossip. I thought it was to be dreaded, but now that I am so worried about Rowan, the gossip is of no significance at all. I would endure a great deal more notoriety than this if only my brother were safely home again.' She looked tearfully at Deborah. ‘Did he say anything to you which might give us a hint as to where he might have gone?'

‘To me? Lady Sabrina, it is very unlikely that he would have said anything of consequence to me, for I was a mere acquaintance.'

Sabrina glanced briefly at Richard, and then returned her attention to Deborah. ‘Richard told me how you felt about Rowan, Deborah. May I call you Deborah?'

‘Yes, of course.' Deborah felt awkward color flooding into her cheeks, and she gave Richard a reproachful look.

Sabrina swallowed. ‘I know that you love my brother, Deborah, and I know that he felt sufficient regard for you to wish to go for a drive alone with you.'

‘He did not keep that appointment, Lady Sabrina,' Deborah pointed out quickly.

‘But he meant to, I'm sure of it. I know that it is a faint hope that you might know something, but once I thought
of you, nothing would do but that Richard brought me here immediately.'

‘I wish I could help, truly I do, but he didn't say anything to me. I believe that the person who might know something is Kate Hatherley, for he spent that night with her, and—'

‘He didn't spend the night with her,' Sabrina
interrupted
. ‘He went to see her, but he didn't stay. We know this because Richard went to see her, and she said Rowan stayed only a while and the last she had seen of him was when he left her house in his curricle, having informed her that he was coming home to Royal Crescent. She has now left Bath herself, having suddenly decided to terminate her contract with the Theatre Royal and return to London.'

‘And he didn't say anything to
her
that might tell us…?'

‘No, nothing at all.' Sabrina's voice became choked with fresh tears. ‘Where is he, Deborah? I'm so afraid for him now that all this time has gone by, and now I'm beginning to dread what might have befallen him. Something is very wrong, for he would not leave me in ignorance as to his whereabouts. Deborah, I'm so fearful that he might be dead.'

Deborah closed her eyes, her fingers tightening
convulsively
on the handrail of the staircase. No, please, no. Rowan couldn't be dead.

They stayed for two days, but then Sabrina became restless and wanted to return to Bath in case there was news there. They wanted Deborah to accompany them, but she decided to stay in Dorset. Promising to send word to her the moment they learned anything, they set off in the
continuing
wind and rain, and Deborah was alone once more. But it was a different loneliness now, for it was tinged with
apprehension that the news when it came would be very bad indeed. She didn't want to admit to her fearfulness, but it was there all the time, hovering on the edge of her consciousness, tormenting her when she slept, and
gnawing
at her courage when she was awake. The weather confined her to the house, and she spent hour after hour by the oriel window, watching the rivulets of rain trickle down the glass.

March gave way to April, the daffodils faded and were replaced by the brilliance and fragrance of wallflowers, and at last the storm clouds rolled away and the skies were clear and blue once more. The sun shone down over the countryside, and the leaves unfurled to the richest and freshest of greens. It was a day upon which to escape from enclosing walls and ride up on the clifftops, and when the sun was at its height, Deborah rode out of the stable yard and along the village street.

She wore her russet riding habit, and the white gauze scarf fluttered lightly from her beaver hat as she urged her mount up out of the Chaldon valley toward the cliffs. The smell of the sea was fresh and clean, and the gulls were very white against the heavens as they wheeled on the light breeze. It was very different now from the last time she had come up here, for then it had been as stormy a day as the one on which the
Thetis
had foundered. This was Dorset at its glorious best, so beautiful and timeless that it was hard to imagine the elements becoming violent and cruel enough to drive a frigate onto the rocks.

She reined in above the cove, gazing down at the clear blue water as it lapped so mildly against the shore. She had not thought a great deal about Jonathan in recent days, but she thought about him now. She had grieved for him for
three long years, and during that time she had
acknowledged
over and over how much she loved and missed him. The grief was still there, but the edge had gone from it. Life moved on, and it was the present that mattered, not the past. Her love for Jonathan would always be there, but it now took second place to her love for Rowan.

She drew a long, trembling breath. Was fate about to cruelly consign her to fresh grief? Please don't let that happen. Please. It did not matter if he did not love her, or if it was Kate Hatherley who held him in her arms, just as long as he was safe and well.

Her horse shook its head suddenly, its ears pricked as something caught its attention in the valley behind. Deborah turned in the saddle, shading her eyes with her hand as she watched a light vehicle skimming along the tree-lined lane toward the village. It was drawn by two high-stepping grays, and as it slowed to negotiate a narrow stone bridge over the River Chaldon, she saw that it was a scarlet curricle.

Her heart seemed to miss a beat. Surely it couldn't be…? The thought remained unfinished as she gathered the reins and urged her mount away from the cliffs toward the distant tower of St Mary's church.

The curricle had already arrived at the house as she reined her sweating horse in on the gravel nearby. She stared for a long moment at the perfectly matched grays and the curricle's shining panels, then she dismounted and hurried into the house.

After the brilliance of the sunshine outside, it seemed so dark in the great hall that she couldn't distinguish anything, but then a shadow moved by the fireplace, and she turned swiftly toward it. It was Rowan.

He wore a sky blue coat and close-fitting cream cord breeches, and there was a jeweled pin in the folds of his lace-trimmed neckcloth. His tall hat and gloves lay upon a nearby table next to a bowl of wallflowers, and his silver hair shone in a shaft of light from a high window as he took a few steps toward her. He smiled. ‘I fear I am somewhat late for Beechen Cliff, Deborah.'

Her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, and she saw with a shock that he was thinner than he had been before, and his face had lost its usual tan. ‘What happened to you?' she asked. ‘Everyone has been so worried….'

‘I've already been back to Bath to see Sabrina, and so I know the furor my absence has caused. As to what happened to me, well, I fear that I met with an accident and lay unconscious for some time.'

‘Unconscious?' Her eyes widened with concern.

He smiled again. ‘I do believe you are anxious for me.'

‘We have all been anxious for you.'

‘Ah, yes. Well, I gather that you know I left Kate's with the intention of going home to Royal Crescent. I was doing precisely that when it occurred to me that if I drove to Bristol I could be absolutely certain that Uppingham was on that ship when it sailed. With a curricle Bristol is not far, and so I set off. I reached the port in time and saw the vessel set out with him safely on board. I began the drive back, but took the wrong road and found myself miles away from where I should have been. I saw a track which I thought would lead me back to the Bath road, but instead it took me out into the wilds somewhere, and then the curricle lost a wheel, overturned, and I was thrown into a gully. I was knocked unconscious and lay there for several days before a shepherd found me. I was still unconscious
when he took me to his family, and they looked after me until I came around three days ago. I managed to get the curricle repaired, recompensed my hosts handsomely for their help, and then drove to Bath. I found that you had come back here, and I learned from Sabrina and Richard why you had done so.'