Lovers Forever (28 page)

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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

BOOK: Lovers Forever
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He sent her a searching glance. What he saw must have reassured him, for he nodded slowly. “Very well. I will.”
Rising to his feet, he said, “I must be off now—after I have a word with the servants about tonight's arrivals. I don't know what time I'll be back with them—it will be very late, that much I do know. I'll talk to you then.” He hesitated. He had almost lost her, and that thought terrified him. Reluctant to leave her, but knowing he must, he bent over and kissed her soundly. “Don't ever let anything like this happen to you again!” he said fiercely. “And I swear I will find and kill the bastard who dared lay a hand on you.”
Through dreamy eyes Tess watched him walk over to where Robert and the others were working. In a low voice he spoke with them for several moments, and then with one last, long, bone-melting glance in her direction, he was gone. His very presence had kept her feelings of terror and despair at bay, and the warm sensation of protection and tenderness that had enveloped her upon his arrival went with him....
Tess swallowed, and the pain in her throat made her moan softly. Sara was at her side instantly and, after pressing some more warm milk on her, told her briskly, “Now then, miss, you rest. The master has everything in hand, and you needn't fret your pretty head over anything.”
Too worn out by her ordeal to resist, Tess weakly sank back against the pillows. She didn't want to think about what had nearly happened to her. Nor did she want to speculate on why someone had tried to kill her. Or who. Her throat hurt unbearably, and the pounding in her head had risen to a savage crescendo. Her eyes closed as she sought to escape the pain. As the minutes passed, the warmth of the fire, the comforting sound of friendly voices nearby, and the brandy all did their work. In the morning, she thought drowsily, in the morning this will all seem a dream....
It wasn't morning when Tess woke, nor did she discover that she had been dreaming. She woke up with a start shortly after midnight and found herself right in the middle of the worst nightmare she could ever have envisioned. The instant her eyes opened, like an avalanche her memory came crashing back.
Oh, God! She remembered!
Everything!
Avery. Her uncle's letter. The aunts. Her flight. The smugglers. Oh, God! The
aunts!
What had happened to them? She didn't dare think what might have been their fate.
Her eyes closed in anguish as the horrible knowledge about her own fate washed over her. She had left Mandeville Manor an innocent maid, fleeing from certain dishonor at the hands of a man she despised . . . and now she woke some five days later to discover that she was maid no longer and that she had, albeit reluctantly, become the mistress of one of the despised earls of Sherbourne. She was disgraced, dishonored, and debased! To her greater horror, she realized something else, too, something that had lurked uncomfortably at the edges of her consciousness for the last few days—she was, she feared, deeply in love with the very man who had brought her to such sordid depths! A man who had sworn that he would never marry her—no matter who she turned out to be. At least, she thought bitterly as she lay there in the darkness of the gatekeeper's cottage, Avery had offered marriage!
Chapter Sixteen
W
ith the return of her memory, and the shameful realization of what she had become in the brief time since she had fled from her home, Tess's first instinct was to run. Run as far and as fast as she could. But even as she sat up in bed, it occurred to her that she had no place to run to.
She could not go back to Mandeville Manor. Nor could she go to her uncles. She was, she realized painfully, a ruined woman, and she would not bring scandal upon them.
But there was still the fate of the aunts to be considered, and even if her life, as she knew it, was over, she was determined to see that Hetty and Meg were safely settled somewhere away from Avery's machinations.
A bitter smile curved her mouth. How ironic! Her great-grandfather had stolen the bride-to-be of the heir to the earldom of Sherbourne, and now the present earl had dishonored the woman the current Baron Mandeville had wanted for a bride. Ironic, too, that like Theresa, she had fallen madly in love with the earl of Sherbourne ... and a marriage between them was definitely not in the cards.
Dispiritedly she lay back. In the dim glow from the low-burning fire on the hearth, she stared blankly at the ceiling above. Oh, God! What was she going to do?
Telling Nicolas was out of the question. She could just imagine his look of disbelief, and a shudder went through her when she considered his likely reaction if he did believe her. He would be furious! The confession of her real identity, while putting to rest his conviction that she had been angling for a wealthy husband, would not still all his suspicions about her. Stubbornly determined to believe the worst of her, he would no doubt decide that if money had not been the motive, the notion of becoming a countess had! And while, despite his protestations to the contrary, he might have brought himself to marry another woman in these circumstances, she was positive that he would
not
be willing to do the same for a Mandeville! Not that she wanted him to, she averred hastily. Who wanted to be married to a man who despised the very name of one's family? A man, furthermore, who had been
compelled
to marry one? She certainly didn't!
Tess sighed wearily. So what was she going to do? Keep her mouth shut and continue the pretense until she thought of some other way out of her terrible dilemma? No. She couldn't do that. Not now, knowing who she was and who he was. And as for loving him ...
A small tear slipped down her cheek. She could almost wish that her memory had not returned, or that when it had, she had discovered that she was just a simple maid and that remaining the mistress of a charming, by-far-too-handsome aristocrat was not such a horrid fate after all.
It couldn't be; she accepted that knowledge, painful though it was. Sooner or later someone was going to recognize her. Only luck, good or bad, she couldn't decide which, had prevented that from happening before now.
The sound of the rain beating on the roof caught her attention, and it was fitting weather for her doleful mood. Lying there, listening to the steady fall of raindrops, Tess made several difficult decisions.
Despite her first inclination not to, she was going to have to tell Nicolas the truth. He
had
to be told—not tonight, but first thing in the morning. And while dreading it, she was going to have to return to Mandeville Manor. She had tried to run away from her problems once, and look where that had gotten her!
Avery's unwelcome suit was the least of her troubles at this point, and he certainly wasn't going to be interested in continuing his pursuit of her once he knew the truth. At least, she thought wryly, I'll have the satisfaction of watching his face when he learns how thoroughly I have put myself beyond the pale. Not even for my fortune would he be willing to marry me now! As for the aunts ... Surely now they would agree to her plan for the three of them to set up their own household. Her mouth twisted. Avery definitely wasn't going to let her live at Mandeville Manor again!
For a little while she comforted herself with the picture of the life she and her aunts would live. On the surface nothing would change, except they would have their own residence and servants and there would be no male to gainsay their wishes. She doubted that beyond the few people who
had
to know, no one else would ever learn of the scandal that had brought about her near reclusive state. Oh, there was bound to be some speculation and gossip when she retired from society and lived the life of a hermit with her aunts, but it would soon pass. Nicolas certainly wasn't going to tell anyone. And Avery, while he might have liked to see her humbled, would not want any hint of scandal near him—it would ruin his chances with the
next
heiress he went scrambling after. Embarrassing questions as to why Tess had fled his home and protection might be raised. He definitely wouldn't like that!
Thunder rumbled suddenly overhead, and Tess jumped. The beat of the rain increased, and she realized that she had been wise to abandon any idea of leaving immediately. Somehow she would get though this night, and in the morning, after she had told him the truth, Nicolas no doubt would be
delighted
to send her swiftly on her way!
The ache in her heart was more powerful than any pain she had ever felt before in her life. Tess lay on her side, watching the slowly dying coals of the fire.
She loved Nicolas Talmage!
That fact was irrefutable, and it explained so much, especially the ease with which she had allowed herself to be seduced by his dark charm. Even that first night ... had she fallen in love with him that quickly?
It was frightening to think that she had taken one look at his chiseled features, stared only once into those wicked black eyes, and fallen headlong in love with him. But that's what happened, she thought painfully. She
had
taken just one look and she had been instantly drawn to him, instantly aware of him in a way she had been with no other man. The knowledge was bitter and fraught with anguish.
With any other man, despite the deplorable circumstances of their first meeting and its aftermath, there would have been a chance that she could find a happy ending, but not with the earl of Sherbourne. Not a Mandeville with a Talmage. Even if they had met under more conventional terms, any hope of a future between them would have been slight and highly unlikely. There was too wide a rift between the families, a rift that had been going on since his grandfather had run away with her great-grandmother....
The diary!
It had to have been Benedict Talmage's. And the woman he wrote of so passionately had to have been her great-grandmother Theresa. She sighed. It didn't change anything. Nothing could, not even her love for Benedict's grandson.
She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting against the tears. She swallowed with difficulty, and the pain in her throat recalled unpleasantly the attack on her life. Tess was almost grateful for the reminder. It gave her miserable thoughts a different subject to worry about. Woefully she admitted to herself that she found it far easier to think about her near murder than to dwell on the dreary, endless days without Nicholas that stretched before her.
Why
had
someone tried to kill her? She frowned. The fact that someone had tried to murder her was nearly incomprehensible. She had no enemies. Except, perhaps ... Could her attacker have been Avery? It didn't seem likely. He wanted to
marry
her, not murder her! Besides, she and Nicolas had seen him driving toward London on Thursday.... Had he caught a glimpse of her and followed them surreptitiously? Her heart beat very fast. Having snooped around and discovered how thoroughly she had ruined herself, had Avery decided simply to murder her in a mad attempt to hide her shame? She snorted. Her shame wouldn't have bothered Avery; it was her fortune he wanted! Had he concocted some wild scheme to get his hands on her money if she were dead? Her nose wrinkled. That didn't seem very plausible. The money came from her mother's side of the family. If she died, the documents were already in place for the bulk of it to go to her Mandeville aunts and her Rockwell uncles. Marriage to her was the only way Avery would ever get his hands on even one penny.
She frowned again. It couldn't have been Avery. But if not Avery ... then who? And why? She bolted upright in her bed as an answer flashed across her mind. The
smugglers!
Of course! Why hadn't she considered them earlier? It made perfect sense. They had used the gatekeeper's cottage probably for years, and to discover that it was now occupied would have displeased them immensely. It was logical to believe that they would have taken steps to make life extremely unhealthy for the current occupants!
Convinced that she was on the right track, she lay back down and considered her premise from all angles, glad that she had something to take her mind off the ache in her heart and to help pass the time as she waited for Nicolas's reappearance. He had said that he would return late tonight, with his guests....
An awful suspicion suddenly occurred to her.
His older, maiden-lady guests
. No. It couldn't be! It was impossible. He wouldn't have lifted a finger to help her aunts. How could he even have learned of their plight? A horrible connection was made instantly in her mind. Her uncles, she recalled uneasily, in spite of the coolness between the Mandevilles and Talmages, were very good friends with the Talmage family. One might even say
close
friends....
Tess jerked upright in bed. Her uncles had planned to arrive today! Yesterday, now. Suppose something had happened that had alarmed them? News of her disappearance?
Oh, dear! Tess thought remorsefully. She hadn't even considered how her aunts must have felt when no word of her safe arrival in London had reached them. Her conscience pricked her. By now, she realized, they must be frantic!
Still, that didn't mean they would be Nicolas's mysterious guests, she reminded herself. But suppose her uncles had arrived at Mandeville Manor and found a situation that greatly disturbed them. Would they, knowing of the hostility between the two families, have gone to Nick for help? She couldn't imagine it. Even less could she imagine any situation that would cause the earl of Sherbourne to assist her aunts or, more important, bring them here. The entire premise was ridiculous! His guests couldn't possibly be her aunts! Yet the appalling suspicion would not go away. She would, she realized with a sinking feeling, simply have to wait and see what unfolded. It wasn't a comforting prospect.
Time passed. Sleep was unthinkable, and Tess tossed and turned. The hour was very late. Nicolas should have been here by now. Where was he?
At that precise moment, Nicolas was standing in the pouring rain, helping two frightened and distraught women into the small closed carriage that he had driven over and hidden in the thick woods near Mandeville Manor. In spite of the wretched weather, the Rockwell brothers had ridden their own horses to give the rescuers more maneuverability if it had been necessary. It hadn't been.
The lightning raid on Mandeville Manor had gone swiftly and smoothly. They had breached the outer perimeter of the estate without incident. A quick, efficient reconnoiter of the house had revealed an unlocked pair of French doors at the rear of the house. The rain and rumblings of the storm had covered any sounds they had made as they had stealthily entered the manor.
The three men had swiftly ascertained that the only occupants awake and likely to cause them trouble were Avery's two servants, the ubiquitous Lowell and the valet, Coleman. Seeing the two of them snoring drunk in the kitchen at Mandeville Manor, Nick recognized them immediately, and their presence made him all the more convinced that even if they were hated Mandevilles, the ladies definitely needed rescuing. Lowell and Coleman had been with Avery on the peninsula, and a pair more prone to rape and cruel violence would have been hard to find. They certainly weren't the type of men he would have introduced into
his
household! Convinced by their condition that Avery's henchmen would cause them no trouble, the trio had departed from the nether regions of the house and had quickly ascended to the upper rooms. It was only when they had reached the floor occupied by the bedchambers of the family that Rockwell had hesitated.
“What is it?” Nick had demanded in a low tone.
They had carried a small candelabra with them to pierce the complete darkness, and in the soft flickering light, Nicolas saw the indecision on the baron's face. “What is it?” he asked again.

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