Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) (38 page)

"Why don't you go ahead and pick him up?" Mrs. Forsythe urged, trying not to cry at the tenderness she saw on the young duchess's face. "You have plenty of time before the nurse returns."

Lavender cast a grateful glance at the housekeeper. Gently she lifted the baby into her arms and held him against her cheek. "He is so small," she said, brushing a kiss against his forehead. "Is he really in good health, Mrs. Forsythe?"

"Yes," the housekeeper replied, coming up and making cooing sounds at the baby. "He is a little love, and I am told he hardly ever cries." Her voice became guarded. "Of course he needs his mother. . ."

Lavender knew the longer she lingered the more danger there would be for Mrs. Forsythe. She hugged her son to her for one last time, kissed his cheek, and reluctantly handed him to the housekeeper. "Remember your promise to look after him for me," Lavender reminded her, feeling as if her heart had been broken into a million pieces.

"You are going away, aren't you?" the housekeeper asked knowingly.

Lavender stared into her eyes. "It is better if you do now know, Mrs. Forsythe. Then if you are questioned, you will not feel obligated to speak out."

"My only obligation is to you, Your Grace. I am going to look after the young marquess until you return."

"Marquess?" Lavender questioned.

"Why, yes, that is his title."

Lavender glanced for the last time on the face of her beloved son. Brushing her lips across his cheek she turned away, knowing he would grow up without ever knowing his mother loved him. She was crying so hard she could hardly speak. "Good-bye, Mrs. Forsythe, and God bless you for being my friend."

Before the housekeeper could reply, the young duchess had hurried out of the room and disappeared into the darkened hall. The older woman glanced down at the baby with a worried frown on her face. Something was very wrong, but Mrs. Forsythe was determined that she would say nothing if she were questioned. Her heart went out to the young mother who had been forced to abandon her own son.

The hired carriage rattled over the road on its way to London, while the howling wind seeped through the cracks. Feeling cold and miserable, Lavender huddled beneath her cape, trying to keep warm. She was glad Nicodemus had made her a bed on the back seat and had insisted she lie down, because she was feeling weak and shaky. Something was wrong. She felt feverish and her head ached so fiercely she had to close her eyes against the agony. She gritted her teeth against the pains that shot through her body every time the driver hit a bump in the road, but she could not allow Nicodemus to find out she was ill or he might insist they return to Mannington.

Nicodemus's voice came to her out of the darkness. "It is still not too late to turn around, Lavender. More than likely you could make it to your room and no one would even know you had been away."

"No, I want to go home," she said, turning her face against the back of the seat. She felt every mile that separated her from Julian and her baby like an ache in the very depth of her soul.

Nicodemus kept a watchful eye on Lavender and he attributed her silence to sadness at being forced to leave her baby behind. He wondered about his sanity. How could he have let her talk him into taking her away when she should have remained with her baby.

On the coach went through the night, the pale lights from the carriage lamps lighting their way. They were putting as much distance as they could between them and Mannington, because Lavender feared Julian would come after her when he discovered she had gone.

Nicodemus heard Lavender's even breathing, and he knew she had finally fallen asleep. He laced his hand through the hand strap that was attached to the door, staring out into the night. They had a long journey ahead of them, and he certainly hoped the duke did not catch up with them, because there was no knowing what form his anger would take. Nicodemus had a notion that the duke would not take kindly to him spiriting Lavender off in the dead of night.

Lavender sighed in her fevered sleep, remembering happier times when Julian held her in his arms, making her feel warm and alive.

"Hell and damnation!" Julian ranted. "Someone will answer for this." He walked over to Lavender's bedroom window and threw it wide. Peering out, he saw no sign that she had left from that direction. He turned back to Mrs. Forsythe. "Did no one see her leave?"

The housekeeper met the duke's piercing gaze. "Not to my knowledge, Your Grace." Her loyalties had always been to the duke, and she felt a prickle of guilt for her deception, but she would keep her promise to the young duchess.

"Someone had to see her leave. Go below and inquire if any of the servants saw her this evening, Forsythe. Then send Hendrick to me at once."

She bobbed a curtsy. "Yes, Your Grace."

Julian waited until he was alone, then he moved over to the wardrobe where Lavender's gowns still hung. Touching the delicate lace on one of the gowns, he felt a tightening in his chest. How could she have gone away without first consulting him? he wondered.

"Well, now you've done it, Julian," his grandmother said coming into the room. All the servants are talking how you forced the sweet duchess to sneak off into the night."

His eyes blazed. "She won't get away with this. I should have known I couldn't trust her."

"You got just what you asked for, Julian. Did you think you could deny her the right to see her baby, accuse her of killing your brother, and use your highhanded methods with her, and not expect her to retaliate? For someone who appears to know all about women, you did not know your own wife. Along with your son, Lavender was the best thing that ever happened to you."

He seemed to slump down on the bed. His hands balled into fists. "I never thought she would leave."

"What did you think she would do? Live in torment for the rest of her life?"

There was confusion in his dark eyes. "1 don't know, but I sure as hell am going to get her back."

"Not if you use that attitude, Julian. A woman likes to be wooed and told that she is loved. You can demand loyalty of your servants; you must earn loyalty from your wife. 1 would say Lavender reacted exactly the way I would have in a like circumstance."

Julian stared at his grandmother. "I have lost her, Grandmama. She must hate me a great deal if she could not even wait to tell me she was leaving."

"Why are you still here? Why aren't you out scouring the countryside looking for Lavender? Go find her and bring her back. Tell her that you love her and want her to stay with you. My God, Julian, I have never known you to let anyone or anything keep you from what you wanted."

Julian's dark eyes flashed with a determined light and he rushed from the room, calling for Hendrick. The dowager smiled to herself. Perhaps love would win out after all, but Julian would not have an easy time of it. She almost felt pity for what he would have to go through to get Lavender back—almost, but not quite.

Julian entered the nursery and nodded for the nanny to leave the room. When he was alone, he lifted the child in his arms and held him tightly against him. This child was a part of Lavender. Perhaps the only part of her that he could ever hold on to. Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek against the baby's soft head, realizing what a fool he had been. He had driven away the only woman he had ever loved. Lavender had been so desperate to escape from him, she had been willing to risk her health.

Love for his wife and love for his son washed through him With breathtaking intensity. He had to find Lavender and bring her back. At last he had admitted to himself that he needed her or his life would be pointless!

The hue and cry went out all over England, and word spread that a reward was offered to anyone who had word of the whereabouts of the Duchess of Manning-ton, but no one came forward to collect, because no one suspected that the slender boy who went up the gangplank to board the merchantman,
Sea Princess
, was in fact the Duchess of Mannington.

Julian rode to London himself, but he could find no trace of Lavender or Nicodemus. He became quieter and more brooding with each passing day. Those who knew him realized he was frantic to find his wife. Days passed into weeks, and still there was no word of Lavender. At last, after he had explored every possible route she could have taken to London, and finding no one had seen her, Julian had to admit defeat. He had to face the fact that Lavender had slipped past him and was most probably on her way to America.

Lavender lay in the cramped cabin, wishing she were dead. She felt as if she were drifting like a cork bobbing on a stormy ocean. With tear-bright eyes, she huddled beneath the shabby covers, feeling as if her heart would break. Her teeth chattered from a chill. She realized she was ill with the influenza. Weakness had drained her strength, and the fever that raged through her body made her delirious at times.

If she had ever held out any hope that she and Julian would be able to live as man and wife, those delusions had died a slow death when Julian had taken the baby away from her. He had been so cold and unfeeling, and she had realized that he would always think she was guilty of his brother's death. It was best that she had stolen away without telling him; otherwise, she might not have had the courage to leave at all.

Nicodemus entered the small cramped cabin, and with a worried frown on his face, he dropped down on a stool beside Lavender. "I am going to talk to the ship's doctor, Lavender. I don't like the way you look. Of course, since everybody on board the ship thinks you are my young brother, I would have to tell the doctor the truth, and that could prove dangerous."

Her eyes were fever-bright. "No, I do not want to see the doctor, and, besides, it is best if the crew of this ship go on thinking I am a boy. I will be all right, Nicodemus—truly I will." Her eyes, which were too heavy to keep open, drifted shut. "I just need time to rest."

Nicodemus stood up, wondering if Lavender was more sick in spirit than in body. She never smiled anymore, and several times when he had paused outside her cabin, he had heard her crying. He cursed the day Julian Westfield had come into her life, bringing his arrogance and unbending ways to bear upon Lavender. Nicodemus wondered if Lavender would ever get over having to give her own baby up.

Nicodemus silently left the cabin, knowing he must play his part as a loyal Tory while aboard the
Sea Princess
. He must not let his guard down for a moment lest he be clapped in irons. The ship's ultimate destination was Charleston, but Nicodemus knew it would be a long voyage since they would first be putting into Trinidad. Even when they reached Charleston, he would have to hire a fishing boat to take him and Lavender on to Norfolk. He drew in a deep breath of salt air, thinking how good it would be to breathe in the fresh air of Virginia once more.

With his eyes on the North Star, he hoped the stiff breeze that had aided their progress for the last week would continue. If it did, they would be home within a month. From the beginning, Lavender and Nicodemus had both agreed that it would be better if she continued to pose as a boy. Since Lavender was so ill, they did not associate with the other passengers, so it was easy to keep up the pretext.

It was a rough voyage from England to Trinidad, and Lavender's illness seemed to intensify. By the time they reached the island, the sea calmed and a warm sun greeted them, but Lavender's fever still raged.

When the
Sea Princess
had taken on food and fresh water, she continued her voyage to America, but without Lavender and Nicodemus. Lavender was still too ill to make the voyage, so Nicodemus insisted that they wait for another ship and give her time to recover. For almost two months, Lavender walked on the stretches of sandy beach, while the warmth of the sun helped heal her body, if not her spirit.

Finally, one morning in August, they boarded a British frigate called the
Green Dragon
. When the ship spread her sails and caught the morning tide, Lavender turned her eyes toward America. She felt no joy in her heart at the thought of returning home. She was too heartsick to feel anything but sadness and a deep emptiness.

Williamsburg, Virginia

Julian rapped on Amelia Daymond's door and waited for an answer. When he was shown to the parlor by Phoebe, he found Lavender's aunt watching him suspiciously.

"I cannot imagine what you are doing here, Mr. West, or Duke, or whatever you call yourself."

"May I sit down? I have something important to discuss with you."

"The only thing we have to discuss is my niece. Where is she?"

Julian's shoulders seemed to slump, and his dark eyes were filled with unbelievable pain. "She is not here?"

Amelia looked at him like he had lost his mind. "You know she is not. You are the one who spirited her away to England, with no thought of how her brother and I would worry."

"I..." He seemed to have difficulty in speaking. "I learned that Lavender and Nicodemus left England on a ship called the
Sea Princess.
I just received word that the ship went down off the Carolina coast." He stood up and walked about the room, finally stopped beside Amelia. "I came here hoping ... but. .. there were no survivors."