Midnight at Mallyncourt (20 page)

Edward pulled a bell cord by the fireplace. A footman appeared at the door a moment later. Edward informed him in a calm voice that Mrs. Baker's cousin would be staying at Mallyncourt for a few days and gave instructions to have Gerry's bags taken up to the blue room.

“Glad to see you're being so reasonable about things,” Gerry remarked after the footman had gone. “There's no reason why we can't keep things on a friendly basis.”

“No reason at all,” Edward replied. His voice was almost amiable. “My wife's cousin shall have every courtesy. I assume you intend to call yourself Randall?”

“Randall? Oh, yes, I hadn't thought of that. Clive, I think. I've always fancied that name. Clive Randall, the son of Jenny's dear Uncle Reginald.”

To my surprise, Edward offered Gerry a glass of brandy, and, when he accepted, poured two glasses from the decanter. I watched them, fascinated. Edward was the exquisitely polite host, Gerry the convivial guest, both men playing their roles to the hilt. Flushed with success, visibly pleased with himself, Gerry was completely relaxed, sipping his brandy and chatting with total aplomb. There was a flicker of sardonic amusement in Edward's eyes. Gerry had quite plainly underestimated his man, but he wasn't aware of it. Seeing the look in Edward's eyes, I almost felt sorry for the man who had come to blackmail him.

Both men looked up when Vanessa stepped into the door. She appeared to be startled to find a guest, but her surprise was a bit too studied, and I could tell that she had known she would find a stranger in the room. Ebony hair spilling to her shoulders in luxuriant waves, her coral lips parted in surprise, she was radiantly beautiful, wearing a low-cut violet silk frock much too elaborate for this hour of the morning. Pausing in the doorway, she gazed at the men with attractive confusion.

“Oh dear, I hope I'm not inter
rupt
ing anything.”

“Not at all,” Edward replied. “Good morning, Vanessa. You're just in time to meet Jennifer's cousin, Clive Randall. Clive, Vanessa Robb, my cousin Lyman's wife.”

Gerry stared at her, dazzled, taken aback by her beauty. Vanessa smiled, fully aware of her effect on him.

“How do you do?” she said. “Jenny,” she scolded, “you never
told
me you had such a handsome cousin.”

“Clive is going to spend a few days with us,” Edward said.

“Oh? How en
chant
ing. Just in time for the ball, too. Do you dance, Mr. Randall?”

“Clive,” he said, “please.”

“Clive,” she repeated, smiling.

“I adore dancing,” he told her.

“I'm sure you dance divinely.”

“Well—”

“I can
sense
it,” she said.

They might have been alone together, Edward and I both forgotten for the moment. The chemistry between them was powerful, and immediate. Gerald Prince was even more susceptible to beautiful women than most men, and his response to Vanessa was plainly visible. Sensual mouth parted in a curling half smile, he looked at her with masculine appreciation in his eyes, and there was speculation as well. Although less obvious about it than he, Vanessa was just as taken as he was.

“It's nice to have you here,” she said.

“Nice to be here.”

“Are you interested in old houses?”

“Fascinated by them.”

“You must let me show you around.”

“That would be—smashing.”

“I had Peters take his bags up to the blue room,” Edward remarked.

“Oh? I'll show you the way, Clive. This house is so vast—quite easy for a stranger to lose his way.”

“Thoughtful of you.”

Her vivid blue eyes deep and shining, she gave a gay, tinkling little laugh and wrapped her arm around his.

“Come,” she said. “You must tell me
all
about yourself—and our dear Jenny. Did you two grow up together? She's rather a mystery, you see. No one knows a
thing
about her—”

They left, her violet silk skirt rustling. I could hear her chattering in a bright, vivacious voice as they moved down the hall. I stood up, more worried than ever. Vanessa was definitely the enemy. She would do anything possible to hurt Edward's cause. Gerald Prince was not to be trusted with a woman. What if he was indiscreet? What if he let slip something he shouldn't? I looked at Edward. He seemed totally unconcerned.

“It's all my fault—” I began.

“Quite true.”

“I should never have sent those letters.”

“You should never have sent them,” he agreed.

“I—I don't know what to say—”

“Then I suggest you say nothing.”

“What are you going to do?”

Edward regarded me with frosty blue eyes, one brow arched, the other a straight line. “‘That needn't concern you,” he said.

“You'll have to pay him.”

“You think so?”

“He—he meant what he said.”

“I'm sure he did.”

“He'll tell Lord Mallyn—”

His lips curled into that thin smile, and once again I detected a hint of sardonic amusement in his eyes. “My dear Jenny,” he said, “you brought this about through your own stupidity. I suggest you leave everything to me now.”

“Vanessa is bound to question him, Edward.”

“I feel certain she will.”

“What if—”

Edward glanced at the clock. “I have business to attend to,” he said impatiently, “and I believe it's almost time for you to accompany my uncle on his turn in the sunshine. Keep calm, Jennifer. I'll handle Mr. Gerald Prince, I assure you.”

With those words he strolled out of the room, leaving me filled with a mounting alarm. What was he planning? What was he going to do? He
had
to meet Gerry's demands. Surely he realized that. There was nothing else he could do. He was altogether too calm, almost nonchalant about it, and that worried me. Anger I could have understood, but this.… I shook my head, wishing I were far, far away from this place.

Vanessa brought “Clive Randall” out to the back lawn to meet Lord Mallyn an hour or so later. Ensconced in his chair, wearing a vivid robe and wrapped in a number of shawls, Lord Mallyn was in a testy mood, complaining that the sunlight was too strong, the birds too blasted loud, and he gave a snort when he saw the two of them approaching. Standing behind his chair, I frowned. I had been meaning to tell him about Gerry's “visit” ever since we came outside, but his constant complaints had made it impossible to get a word in edgewise.

“Who's this?” he grumbled as they approached. “Another of Vanessa's squires? Don't like the looks of the fellow, too smooth—don't like the cut of him at all. That preposterous waistcoat—”

“He's my cousin,” I said nervously.

“Your cousin! You're
related
to that stout popinjay?”

“He—he's come to visit. I invited him.”

“You
invited
him! Must-a taken leave of your senses!”

They reached us before I could reply. Vanessa performed the introductions gracefully. Gerry was impeccable, nodding politely, expressing his delight at meeting such an esteemed personage. Lord Mallyn snorted again and extended a beringed hand. Gerry squeezed it a bit too heartily, causing the rings to crush against bone, causing its owner to let out an anguished roar. Gerry dropped the hand promptly, dismayed. Lord Mallyn glared at him fiercely. Vanessa smiled prettily, called Lord Mallyn a naughty old rogue and, saying they wouldn't bother us any longer, led Gerry back toward the veranda.

“Just when I'm beginning to feel my oats, I'm invaded by overdressed hooligans!” Lord Mallyn said hotly. “The oaf damned near broke my hand! I suppose he intends to
stay
here! Well, I don't mind telling you, Jenny, if he weren't
your
cousin, I'd have the footmen throw him off the premises! Most unreasonable of you to invite him here in the first place. Everyone's in league against me—”

Vanessa and Gerry went out riding that afternoon, causing young Lyle Radcliff considerable consternation when he arrived shortly after their departure. I felt rather sorry for the youth. It was obvious, already, that he had been supplanted. Heavy, sensual, undeniably handsome, Gerald Prince would naturally be fascinating to a woman like Vanessa, and she had wasted no time in appropriating him. Edward might not be concerned, but it made me extremely uneasy. I was in a distracted mood as I sewed with Lettice in the nursery, unable to concentrate on the task at hand, and later on, as I dressed for dinner, my mood hadn't improved a bit.

Susie had arranged my hair on top of my head in smooth, sculptured auburn waves, leaving three long ringlets dangling to touch my bare shoulder. The girl was an artist, quite true, but she was also an incorrigible chatterbox, hardly pausing for breath. Ordinarily I found her chatter amusing, but tonight it was merely irritating. While she did my hair I learned that Cook had used her tarot cards this mornin' and 'ad a fright, a real fright, said somethin' dreadful was goin' to 'appen at Mallyncourt soon, death an' disaster bound to 'appen, it was in th' cards. I also learned that Betty 'ad a new dress, red, it was, most improper, and 'ow, Susie wanted to know, just 'ow could an '
onest
girl afford such a dress? Taking my gown from the wardrobe, she regaled me with an account of George's cheekiness. This mornin' 'e pulled 'er into the linen closet and gave her
such
a sound kiss and Lord knows what would-a 'appened if Jeffers 'adn't come saunterin' down th' 'all when 'e did. Susie slipped the gown over my head, smoothing the skirt down over the full petticoats.

“This golden brown satin,” she said, “so fetchin', so pretty with your 'air. 'Ere, Miss Jenny, let me 'elp you fasten it up—there! You
do
look a picture, no mistake.”

“Thank you, Susie.”

“'E's gettin' impossible, 'e is, George, I mean. I told 'im I wanted a
ring
, and 'e looked '
or
rified, said there were lots-a girls who wouldn't mind sparkin' with 'im without expectin' to marry 'im, and you know what I told 'im? I told 'im to
find
one of those girls an' leave me alone. 'E's almost in th' bag now—I say, did you 'ear about the row?”

“What row?” I inquired, gazing into the mirror, not really paying attention to her babbling.

“Mister Lyman—'e was
fur
ious! Near murdered Anderson, 'e did. Anderson's th' gardener, you know, been at Mallyncourt forever 'n ever. 'E was almost sacked this afternoon.”

I reached up to pat one of the long auburn ringlets. “Indeed?”

“It was about th' well,” Susie continued, heedless of her inattentive audience. “It's at th' back of th' property, beyond them water gardens, an old well what 'adn't been used for years—Mister Lyman put in a new water system some time ago with pipes 'n things, and this old well was abandoned. Dry as a bone, it is, an' several 'undred feet deep. A few years back one of th' farm children was nosin' about where 'e didn't 'ave no business bein' and tumbled into th' well—broke both 'is legs, 'e did, almost died before they were able to rescue 'im.”

“How dreadful—” I exclaimed, giving her my full attention.

“Awful, it was, just awful. They 'eard the boy yellin'—'e'd been down there for '
ours
—and Mister Lyman was marvelous. 'E got 'im a rope and went down after 'im 'imself, riskin' 'is life. George told me all about it. Anyway, 'e 'ad a cover built and nailed it over th' top of th' well so no one else'd 'ave an accident. That's what th' row was about—Mister Lyman discovered that a 'igh wind'd blown th' cover off th' well 'n Anderson 'adn't nailed it back on, 'adn't reported it either. Mister Lyman tore into 'im somethin' fierce, said there wudn't no excuse for such negli—” She stumbled over the word, frowning, “said 'e oughta 'ave 'is bloody 'ide for not reportin' it immediately.”

“I don't blame him,” I remarked.

“Anderson was shook up mightily, and George says Mister Lyman was fit to be tied when 'e came back to the 'ouse. 'E 'ammered th' cover back on th' well 'imself, said 'e was surrounded by bloody incompetents and was goin' to sack th' whole bloody lot one fine day. Mister Lyman
does
'ave a temper, though 'e's fair. Everyone says 'e's fair.”

“I'm sure he is.”

Susie shook her head and stepped back to examine her handiwork, satisfied that my appearance met her high standards. A string of pearls might be nice, she said, but then with my high coloring I didn't really need any ornaments. She adjusted the hang of the rich golden brown skirt, wondered aloud if
she
'd ever have enough bosom to wear low-cut gowns and declared I looked like a bloomin' duchess, I did indeed.

“Your cousin's goin' to be impressed,” she added.

“Do you think so?”

“'E's certainly a fine figure of a man. Betty's been assigned to do 'is room. 'E was there when she went in to change th' linen, 'n she said 'e was th' 'andsomest devil she'd ever clapped eyes on. 'Course Betty says that about anything in trousers. Funny you never mentioned 'im before, Miss Jenny.”

“Didn't I?”

“You never said a word about 'im, never said you'd invited 'im to Mallyncourt. Took us all by surprise when 'e turned up this mornin'. Didn't give 'is name or anything, just told Jeffers 'e wanted to see Mister Edward right away.”

I refrained from making any comment, and Susie was visibly disappointed, quite plainly hoping to reap more information about the cousin who had materialized so suddenly. I opened a bottle of perfume, applying a touch of scent behind each ear.

“Miss Vanessa seems quite taken with 'im,” she remarked idly, brushing a blond lock from her temple. Her blue eyes were deceptively innocent. “They were quite chummy when they came back from their ride this afternoon, ever so relaxed, like they'd known each other for years 'n years.”