Mistress of Merrivale (13 page)

Questions ran through her mind with breakneck speed. How had he discovered her location? Was it a coincidence or had he followed her from London? And even worse, had he known her address in London all along and simply bade his time?

“Lady, you all right?”

Jocelyn’s head jerked in the direction of the young woman, towing a grubby child. “I’m fine. I felt ill for a moment.” She had to move. Soon. Her mother would require Jocelyn’s opinion on the bolts of cloth available for sale. Where was the footman? He’d be frantic, wondering what had happened to her. “I believe the feeling has passed now.”

The young woman trudged on her way, juggling control of the child and her basket of shopping.

“’ere, you! Wot you doin’ loitering behind my stall?” an irate woman demanded.

“I’m sorry.” Jocelyn repeated her excuses and stepped furtively from hiding, craning her neck in her search for Boynton. If she remained lurking here, Leo would start asking the same questions. Besides, he wouldn’t leave her mother on her own in the market. He’d want to turn her mother over to her before he left to view livestock. She glanced both left and right. Boynton had gone—at least for the moment.

“Mrs. Sherbourne.” The footman’s voice held relief.

Jocelyn offered him a wan smile. She spied Leo and her mother in the row of fabric stalls and made her way over to them, maintaining a wary eye for Boynton.

“Leo purchased three lengths of cloth for me,” her mother said, almost girlish in her enthusiasm.

“And I thought you’d need my advice on your purchases,” Jocelyn teased, fighting her impulse to scan the faces in their vicinity.

Leo grinned, the curve of his lips doing strange things to her pulse rate. Despite her worry, Leo only had to turn his charm on her and her anxieties lessened. It was his Sherbourne smile. He flashed it in her direction and every sane thought fled. She squeezed her thighs together as her mind drifted to the joy she found with him in private.

“If only all the other women in my life were so easily satisfied. Cassie wants a new doll and was very specific with her requirements.” His good humor faded. “Hannah put her up to it.”

“Why don’t you purchase some extra cloth, and ask Mother if she’ll stitch some new clothes for Cassie’s existing doll? That might keep her happy.” She gave into her need and glanced around her, tension bleeding from tight muscles when she didn’t glimpse Boynton’s gloating, cruel visage.

“Is something wrong?” Leo asked.

“No. No, I’m fine.” Now wasn’t the time to discuss the matter with Leo, and besides, she was possibly worrying about nothing. After another surreptitious glance over her shoulder, she allowed Leo to direct her and her mother to another stall.

She caught Leo watching her and offered him a bright smile. He didn’t return the sentiment, and her breath caught, uneasiness filling her now. She didn’t know him well enough to decipher what his changeable moods meant.

“I need to go,” he said. “The footman will escort you to the dressmaker and then to the public house.”

“Of course,” Jocelyn murmured. “You must attend to your livestock. We’ll see you later.”

Leo tugged on a lock of Jocelyn’s hair. “Make sure you keep Gavin with you at all times.”

“We will,” she promised.

Once Leo left, they walked directly to Madam Marie, the dressmaker, with the footman trailing them.

“Ah,” Madam Marie said. “The new Mrs. Sherbourne.” She shifted her gaze. “And your mother. I can see the likeness in the eyes.”

“Good day,” Jocelyn said.

“How can I help you today?” the dressmaker asked.

“My mother requires new gowns, and I’d like to purchase two dresses for my stepdaughter.”

“But of course.” Madam Marie clapped her hands briskly, and one of her seamstresses appeared to help with the measuring. “Did you have any specific styles in mind? Is the dress for a special occasion?” As she spoke, she started to take Elizabeth’s measurements, her competence telling Jocelyn that despite Hannah’s assertions, Madam Marie was a capable seamstress. The measuring took no time at all.

“Is it possible to get dresses stitched for my stepdaughter’s doll? I thought it would be a good idea to match the fabric with Cassie’s new gowns,” Jocelyn said. “Mother is going to sew several, but I thought garments from the dressmaker would make her very happy.”

“Mrs. Sherbourne, but of course.” Madam Marie pursed her lips. “I heard another girl has disappeared from Merrivale.”

“Gossip travels fast.”

“Two girls have gone missing from Tavistock,” Madam Marie said. “The butcher’s daughter vanished last month and no one has seen her since.”

Jocelyn stiffened and glanced at her mother. She seemed content to look at pattern books plus the additional fabrics and trim the assistant brought to show her. “Two?” Why hadn’t anyone mentioned this? “Did they disappear without warning?”

The assistant unwound a length of apricot silk and held it against Elizabeth’s face.

“Neither of the girls had bad reputations. They were hardworking and well-liked.” Madam Marie leaned over and flicked the fabric to make it drape better, a faint frown marring her brow. She
tsked
under her breath. “No, I don’t think this color will do. Try the dark gray silk.”

Not the kind of women who would run off with a man, then. No, something more sinister was at work here. Surely Leo—
no!
The knowledge she had of him wouldn’t let her suspicions gain root and grow. There had to be some other reason why young women were disappearing from the towns on and around the moors. “Have there been disappearances from other villages?”

Madam Marie cocked her head, intelligence glinting in her sharp gaze. “It’s possible, although, I haven’t heard of others.”

Jocelyn nodded, not inclined to discuss the matter further, and wandered over to look at the selection of hats and shawls. A green hat with a large brim caught her attention—the perfect thing to cover her distinctive hair. And if she added a shawl in a different color—yes, a change in her appearance might help her avoid Boynton until she spoke with Leo.

“Do you have your stepdaughter’s measurements, Mrs. Sherbourne? The measurements for the doll?”

“Yes, certainly.” Jocelyn rattled off the relevant information, having committed it to memory before they left home.

“And which fabrics would you like?”

“Mother, would you like to help me choose fabric for Cassie?”

“I think you should take the pale blue and the red floral,” Elizabeth said decisively. Her cheeks glowed with exhilaration, an emotion that echoed in her eyes. No one looking at her, clad in her smartest yellow gown and a lacy cap, would suspect her of madness. She’d dressed carefully for her trip to Tavistock, driving Tilly to distraction with her demands, yet Jocelyn couldn’t help but smile. This challenging woman was the mother of her childhood—the ambitious one who pulled off splendid matches for her merchant class daughters. A pity the family situation had changed before it was Jocelyn’s turn.

After Jocelyn extracted a promise from the dressmaker to complete the gowns and deliver them to Merrivale Manor within the week, they left the shop. Gavin pushed away from the wall and took up the rear, a silent sentinel.

“I told you they’d manage to complete a gown in time for the party,” her mother said, practically skipping down the street. She skirted a smelly pile of refuse in the middle of her path. “You should have ordered a new gown too.”

“Yes you did say that,” Jocelyn said, scanning the busy street in her peripheral vision. “I have plenty of gowns. I don’t require a new one.”

“Your husband might decide to never purchase a dress for you again if you tell him that,” her mother said sharply, once again reminding Jocelyn of the past, and the shrewd woman who’d snared titles for Georgina and Charlotte.

“He was very generous with you and Cassie.”

“Yes, I was surprised. You were lucky with your choice of husband. Most men wouldn’t have married
you
.”

“Mother,” Jocelyn hissed, her gaze darting to check for Boynton and eavesdroppers.

While she was pleased her mother was showing signs of her old self, she could do without the criticism. She bit back the sharp words on the tip of her tongue—the fierce resentment because if it wasn’t for Jocelyn embracing the life of a courtesan, they would’ve all ended up out on the street, penniless and desperate.

“The Bull and Bear. This is our destination.” Thank goodness. Hopefully her mother would focus on something else now that they’d arrived at the pub.

Leo had booked a private room, and Jocelyn gratefully followed the innkeeper who directed them to his best parlor. Although small, the room was clean and comfortable with several upright chairs and a sturdy wooden table.

Jocelyn wandered to the window and massaged her right temple, pressing carefully with her fingertips in an effort to shift the dull throb that had settled since leaving the dressmakers. A respite from the flurry of the marketplace would prove welcome, give her time to think. She let out a muffled snort, directed more at herself than anyone else—a chance to sulk because her mother wasn’t appreciative of her sacrifices.

A heavy sigh followed, the burden heaped on her as she considered the choices she’d taken since meeting Leo. Foremost came the worry that she’d made a huge mistake in accepting his offer. What if she’d placed her mother directly in danger?

“What do you think of Tavistock, Mother?” Jocelyn caught a glimpse of a tall man who looked a bit like Boynton, and she drew back from the window in two jerky steps.

She was a married woman. Boynton no longer held power over her, but he could cause trouble for Leo if he decided to inform everyone of her past. Jocelyn’s hands trembled, and she clenched them in an effort to calm her escalating dread. There was no reason for Boynton to visit Dartmoor. His family held estates in Yorkshire. And Leo…what would he think when she told him? She and her mother had brought a stack of problems to Merrivale Manor.

Leo arrived after seeing to his business, and her mother immediately regaled him with their activities since they’d parted. Her husband listened closely, and Jocelyn felt her heart turn over. Gratitude filled her at the way Leo treated her mother—like an adult instead of an imbecile.

“And what about you?” Leo asked. “Did you also attempt to spend all my money?” His eyes glowed, and Jocelyn basked in the warmth of his regard. When his charm focused on her like this, her concerns and doubts about their marriage seemed trivial.

“I managed to spend a little,” she said. “I didn’t expect the market to be quite as crowded. Are the weekly markets always this large?”

“The locals use the market to sell their wares and exchange news and gossip.”

“So the market is mainly for locals?”

Leo shot her a dissecting glance. “Why?”

Jocelyn checked on her mother and saw she’d moved to another window to watch the antics of a juggler down on the street. She leaned nearer to Leo and lowered her voice. “I saw Boynton in the crowd. I know he saw me.”

“Boynton? The man Melburn mentioned from your past?”

“Yes.”

“You’re safe at Merrivale.”

She groped for Leo’s left hand as she recalled Boynton’s frequent rages. “What if he spreads gossip about my past? Surely you don’t want rumors spread throughout the parish?”

“To my knowledge, the man hasn’t been near Merrivale. His presence is a coincidence, and he’s merely traveling through the area.”

Jocelyn doubted that very much and feared nothing good could come from her sighting. Boynton had seen her, and the man wasn’t a good loser. “His estates are in Yorkshire.”

Leo smoothed his fingertips across one cheek. “Sweetheart, you’re worrying unnecessarily. He can’t hurt you, but if it sets your mind at rest I’ll make some discreet enquiries.”

“Thank you.” She shivered when she registered his hot intent. If it wasn’t for her mother’s presence, she was positive he’d haul her into his arms. Warmth suffused her cheeks.

He smiled down at her. “I’m sure there’s no need for concern.”

Despite her qualms, Jocelyn nodded and released her desperate grip on her husband. “I’ll give you a description. He’s about your height but stockier in build. He usually wears a wig, and keeps his blond hair clipped short. He enjoys his food and drink, and it shows in his body.”

A tap on the door announced the arrival of their meal. The innkeeper’s wife and a maid entered the parlor bearing trays. The moment they lifted the covers on the food, the delicious scent of beef and oyster pie drifted through the air. Lunch was a gay affair, full of laughter and good spirits, and Jocelyn allowed the delicious food and jolly atmosphere to lull her trepidation.

Jocelyn woke in an empty bed again, despite the early hour. When she’d first arrived at Merrivale, Leo had risen early, but not before kissing her awake. Slowly, things had changed. He visited her bed and sometimes left after they’d made love. Last night he’d stayed, or at least he’d remained until she fell asleep. She stared at the ceiling, trying to quell the doubt demons popping to life.

There was a good reason for Leo’s absence. Yes, he was likely in his chamber now. She found herself out of bed and halfway to her dressing room before the thought properly formed. The Oriental rug was soft beneath her bare feet, her footfalls silent as she approached the connecting door. She opened the door and peered into Leo’s chamber.