Rogue's Reward (8 page)

The answer seemed wrung from him. “More than I have.”

“But not, probably, more than I have. Very well! I am prepared to be bled dry. I have my own fortune. The earl shall never know. Indeed, he must never know or I shall be ruined.”

“I am so angry and humiliated,” the major said. “Yet I cannot find it in my heart to regret our love, Felicity. You are more to me than the earth.”

“Oh, spare me, sir! We are adults. We know quite well what we have meant to each other. Pray, don’t make it more than it is. You may regret nothing, but I regret everything very bitterly. Had you done as I asked and burned my letters, we wouldn’t now be considering the pleasures of being blackmailed.”

“Forgive me, my dear. I’ll move heaven and earth to find the villain who stole the letters, believe me.”

“He’s picked a good target, hasn’t he? The Countess of Acton! This rogue is going to become a very rich man. Now, leave me, sir. Tomorrow will be soon enough for me to begin to decide which jewels I shall sell.”

The door opened and closed again. The major had left.

Eleanor sat where she was and listened for her mother to also leave the room. She now understood exactly why the countess had looked so ill when she came out of the church. She felt a little pale and clammy herself. It might be a shock for Lady Acton to learn that her indiscreet letters had been stolen and were in the hands of a blackmailer, but it was perhaps more of a shock for her eighteen-year-old daughter to learn that her mother had been having an affair.

Yet could she blame her? The handsome major was witty enough company. Compared to her father, who often behaved something like Henry VIII with the headache, he must have seemed charming indeed. It was only natural that the countess had looked outside of her barren marriage for a little solace.

But this business of the letters was a disaster. If it ever came out, the earl could demand a divorce. Lady Acton, who lived only for society, would find herself an outcast. No wonder she was prepared to sell her jewelry!

Eleanor almost felt like weeping, as much in rage as in grief. What crime was more despicable than blackmail? Her mother had never harmed a soul. Did a moment of human weakness deserve a lifetime of punishment? Who could possibly have stolen the letters?

And then unbidden it came to her: “First you must tell me what you know about blackmail, brown hen.”

Leander Campbell! When they had first met at the Three Feathers, he had said that. She had thought he was threatening to blackmail her over their compromising encounter, but he stayed often at Deerfield and he gambled for a living. He must be in constant need of money. Opportunity and motive, both were there.

She had thought him arrogant and infuriating, but not really so completely despicable. Now why should that realization hurt so very much?

“How much did you hear?”

Eleanor was so lost in her own misery, she didn’t respond until Lady Acton sat beside her and repeated the question. “How much did you hear, Eleanor?”

She looked up to meet her mother’s gaze. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, truly, but how could I make myself known with the major here? Oh, Mama, I’m so terribly sorry. No wonder you felt ill!”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Lady Acton said. “I admit I was upset when I first heard, my dear, but it’s not the end of the world. Why, I think being blackmailed might add a little spice to life. It’s never happened to me before.”

“But to sell your jewels! Won’t Papa notice?”

“Dear child, I have a fortune of my own, as no doubt the blackmailer is aware. Sir Robert isn’t lacking for funds, either, and he’s determined to get my letters back. It’ll be a while before my diamonds must go to be cleaned, believe me. Do you hate me?”

Eleanor gazed into the lovely black eyes. “Hate you? Why?”

“For not being faithful to your father.”

“No, of course not! How could I? You didn’t choose him.”

At which Lady Acton threw back her head and laughed. “No, my father did and at the time it broke my heart. I thought I was in love with another young man, you see, who was entirely unsuitable. But he married someone else, and your father and I rub along well enough. Lord Acton’s a good man at heart, Eleanor, and I wouldn’t hurt him for the world. He must never know about this.”

“Papa certainly won’t learn it from me.”

“I know he won’t. And no doubt my letters will be recovered, so he won’t learn from the blackmailer either.”

“Do you have any idea who the villain is?”

“None. But he’ll reveal himself eventually and then Robert will shoot him. Now, in the meantime, I want you to put it out of your mind. Promise me that you will?”

Eleanor shook her head. That was the one thing she couldn’t promise. If Leander Campbell was blackmailing the major and her mother, she would do her best to stop him. In the meantime, she had no proof and she had better keep her suspicions to herself.

Lady Acton chucked her gently under the chin. “Never mind, Eleanor. You’re a remarkable child and so are your siblings. If there’s one thing I shall never fathom, it’s how your father and I produced such a splendid brood. And, yes, you are all your father’s children.”

With that, she rose gracefully to her feet and winked.

Eleanor grinned back. “I would never doubt it, Mama. We all look like different bits of the two of you, except me,” she said. “Look at Richard—he has your eyes and Papa’s hair. But I’ve seen the portraits of Papa’s mother, and she and I might have come out of the same plain brown pod. Actually, I wouldn’t mind in the least having a different father, but there you are. We don’t choose our parents.”

“Nor do we choose our children,” Lady Acton said with mock severity, before she turned with a last shared smile and left the room.

Eleanor stared into the fire.

Mr. Leander Campbell! An image of him carelessly running along the rooftops and athletically controlling the bareback horse danced in the flames. He was so very handsome and undeniably charming, she had certainly been dazzled for a moment.

Well, she shouldn’t blame herself too much if her head had been turned. She had spent most of her life in complete shelter at Miss Able’s Select Academy for Young Ladies. What did she know about rogues like Mr. Campbell? Her brothers were selfless men of impeccable honor, who lived and were prepared to die by their personal codes, however much they might delight in a careless appearance.

Meanwhile Leander Campbell seemed to be entirely ruthless. He hadn’t thought twice about threatening her at the inn. He was trying to get Diana to elope with Walter. No doubt it was somehow a way to steal his sister’s inheritance. And now it seemed that he had stolen her mother’s letters and was blackmailing her and the major about it.

Mr. Campbell might be Diana’s half-brother and used to the blind adoration of females, but he hadn’t met Acton determination before and he didn’t know that Lady Eleanor Acton knew about his game.

Virtus Actonorum in Actione Consistit
. It was the Acton motto: Action is the Acton virtue.

If he planned to blackmail Lady Acton, the arrogant Leander Campbell was going to find out very soon that he had at last met his match.

At that moment the arrogant Leander Campbell was indeed thinking about blackmail. He and Walter Downe were sitting comfortably before the fire at Deerfield. Each man sipped gently at a glass of the finest brandy from the major’s superb cellar. Lee held his up for a moment to the light and watched the seductive change in its color.

“Have you learned anything, Lee?” Walter asked.

“About Manton Barnes? No, I haven’t. Sir Robert was never close to his nephew. Certainly, Barnes was rarely here as a child. We met for the first time at Eton. Sir Robert claims to know very little about Manton’s private life and to take little interest.”

“Then he kept his secret from his uncle?”

Lee looked thoughtfully into the hearth. “It would appear so. Sir Robert said all the correct things when he learned of our friend’s death, but I don’t think it touched him very deeply. I’m afraid that the impeccable military gentleman you have met at every rout and soirée for the last several years has never been a man to show much genuine emotion.”

“Then he wouldn’t suspect suicide?”

“Why should he? There’s no reason to think he knew Barnes might be facing the gallows. No, someone else knew, and I suspect it was Blanche who told him.”

“Miss Blanche Harrison?”

“Who else? She was devastated when Barnes broke off their engagement. I suggested he make some excuse, but perhaps he told her the truth and in her distress she went to someone else for help, someone who used that knowledge for blackmail.”

“
You
suggested he break off the engagement? I didn’t know you’d had a hand in it.”

Lee stood up and refilled his glass. “May God forgive me! It’s too easy, isn’t it, to give advice? When Barnes told me he’d proposed to Miss Harrison, I gave him the worst dressing-down he’d ever received in his life. Poor fellow! He hoped marriage would be a cover for him, but he’d never given a thought to the consequences for Blanche.”

“Well, you couldn’t stand aside and let him ruin her life.”

“And I would do it again, even knowing the consequences—though as it turned out, one might lay Barnes’s death at my door, I suppose.”

“That’s nonsense, Lee, and you know it! If he hadn’t been blackmailed, he’d never have taken his own life.”

“And if I hadn’t interfered, he’d have married and kept his secret forever. There’d have been no grounds for blackmail.”

“No, you did the right thing to save Miss Harrison. But if you think she told someone the truth, why don’t you ask her? Where is she now?”

“In America,” Lee said with a wry smile. “And no one knows where.”

“Then there’s no way to find out anything at all?”

“Not from her, certainly. And I have no other leads. Yet—” He stopped.

“Yet, what?” Walter asked.

“Yet Major Sir Robert St. John Crabtree isn’t telling me the truth. God knows why! I’ve known the man since I was five years old and I owe him everything.”

“Yes, he found you in Ireland where you’d been sent as a baby and brought you back to Hawksley.”

“But though it may have been gallant to rescue a by-blow of the English peerage from the bogs of the Emerald Isle, it also meant that it was excessively awkward for Lady Augusta to dump me in the foundling hospital. So though she took me in, she was never really happy about it. Of course, I’ve seen little of the major these last few years, but I thought he was even fond of me. Yet he’s holding something back, I can sense it.”

Lee strode across the room to the window. Pulling aside the drape he looked out into the dark night. In the light of the flambeaux, a solitary horseman rode up the drive.

“But what would he hold back?” Walter asked.

“I doubt that it’s important,” Lee replied calmly. “The major returns. I hope he found Lady Acton recovered, and that she’s not chained to a rock while vultures devour her alive.”

Walter looked sharply at his friend. What was he talking about? Then he sighed. Leander Campbell always saw more than anyone else did. It was one of the things that made his friendship so attractive and yet so infuriating. How could brother and sister be so different? For Lady Diana was as open and uncomplicated as a daisy. Walter sighed more deeply. In the next moment he forgot all about the problem of Manton Barnes and the mystery surrounding him, and instead began to think about Diana.

Thus when Major Crabtree entered the room, he found both of his guests looking perfectly relaxed.

* * *

Eleanor had made up her mind with great resolution, but she had no idea how she could put it into practice. Obviously she couldn’t just march up to Leander Campbell and accuse him of blackmailing her mother and the major. He would merely laugh and deny it, and then carry right on with his nefarious scheme. Somehow she would have to get proof. Yet she was just a young woman in a world where only men had any freedom of action. She had never really resented it before, but she did now.

Nevertheless, she would do what she could, so when Diana suggested the next morning that they walk over to Deerfield, Eleanor agreed instantly. It would put her into Mr. Campbell’s unsettling company, but that was the price she was going to have to pay if she was to rescue Lady Acton.

They took the path that lead through Little Tanning, but not by way of the footpath and the stile. Instead the two girls followed the lane where Eleanor had met Frank Garth the day before. As they came up to the village, the sound of hammering echoed across the green.

“Oh, good! Lee’s having the barn roof repaired,” Diana said. “Mrs. Pottage will be so pleased. She’s been after Mama to fix it for so long, but our agent always encourages us to wait until the last minute, so the tenants have a dreadful time of it.”

“Well, I should think he ought to do it,” Eleanor said indignantly.

“Why? It’s outrageously generous of him. He only does it because he’s fond of the people here.”

“After he brought down half the pantiles yesterday, of course he must do it. And he has a very odd way of demonstrating fondness for the villagers, since he almost destroyed their barn. He’s lucky the roofers were able to get here so fast, or Mrs. Pottage might not be smiling so kindly the next time she saw him.”

Diana gave her a puzzled look. “Oh, no, Lee arranged to have this roof done ages ago. It took a while to get the right workmen, that’s all. Good heavens, Mrs. Pottage said the thing was positively dangerous and the next storm would bring half the tile down into her haystacks.”

“Are you trying to tell me that your brother knew this roof was unsafe and had already arranged for the men to come? That he knew all that yesterday?”

Diana gave her an exasperated grin. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Then he’s an impossible, deceitful, manipulative—”

“Why on earth must you fly into the boughs about it? Eleanor, I wish you’d be nice to Lee. He has the hardest time of it and he’s the most generous, most honorable, best person in the world. There’s no one to match him, you know.”