Sally James (26 page)

'I need stand on no ceremony, I know,' she apologized, 'but I think we are all rather tired. Adam has arranged a shoot for tomorrow, so you men will wish to make an early start.'

Thankfully Kate escaped, and gradually over the next few days recovered some of her calmness. The men spent most of the daytime hours outside, shooting or riding. Kate, never invited to accompany them, occupied herself with trying out the unfamiliar music scores she found in great profusion. In the evenings she was persuaded to play and sing for them, trying out her new achievements. Adam never volunteered to join her in duets, seeming to prefer to sit motionless, with eyes lowered, until she had finished, when he would immediately turn the conversation to other matters.

The men were usually out of the house by the time she came down. She was rather startled to find Adam alone in the breakfast room one morning. At other times Adam made so little effort to speak to her, or take notice of her, that when he spoke she started with nervousness.

'Kate, we must talk,' he said abruptly after she had helped herself from the dishes on the sideboard and poured a cup of coffee.

'Talk?' she repeated, her fork arrested half way to her mouth, apprehension in her eyes.

'Yes, but not here. Can you come to the library after you have finished?'

'Yes. Yes, of course,' she gulped, and to her relief he merely nodded and left the room.

Her appetite had flown. She managed to swallow a mouthful of coffee, but the ham she had taken was suddenly distasteful to her. Abruptly she stood up, pushed the plate from her, and marched determinedly to the door. If he was about to renew his proposal the sooner she told him it was impossible the better.

He was seated behind the large table when she entered the library, but he rose immediately and came to usher her to one of the two deep armchairs set either side of a roaring log fire.

'I have decided to continue your education elsewhere,' he began abruptly, and she almost gaped at him in her astonishment.

He laughed and grinned at her, and she wished he would not. His grin was so attractive and infectious she found herself wanting to respond, but she dared not drop her guard. It was much easier to deal with an angry, arrogant Adam than this friendly, almost reasonable creature.

'You cannot be presented this Season, because you will still be in mourning, but you could go to Bath. You need to learn how to go on in Society. Annabelle has agreed to take you in hand.'

Chapter Twenty-one

'Annabelle Wilson?' Kate exclaimed in tones of disbelief. 'You're sending me, like a parcel, to stay with - ' she couldn’t say it. The very notion that he proposed to force her to stay with his mistress, and moreover had implied Annabelle would teach her how to behave in Society was so preposterous she thought for a moment he was jesting.

But he was not smiling. 'Not like a parcel, my dear. We will travel in a chaise, in comfort.'

'Annabelle doesn't live in Bath,' was all she could find to say, feeling remarkably stupid. She was beginning to learn that outright opposition made Adam more determined than ever to get his own way, so she cast round for other excuses.

'She wishes to take the waters. Her husband and I together have taken a house there and we will be going to join them next week. She will act as hostess for me too. I shall be busy setting in train various alterations to Rhydd Manor, which is not far away, so it will be convenient for me. You can begin to wear half mourning, and learn how to conduct yourself in Society before we go to London next autumn for the Little Season, when you can put off your blacks and make your proper come out.'

'Why can’t your mother take a house there and chaperone me?' Kate asked. 'Surely Annabelle does not want all of us staying with her?'

'My mother will be staying with friends, and they have invited your aunt to accompany her,' Adam said smoothly, but there was a gleam in his eye Kate did not trust. The suggestion she was to be parted from her aunt made her weak with apprehension.

'I can't!' she said in a slight panic. 'Why can't Aunt Sophie come with us, at least? Does she know your mother's friends?'

He grinned. 'No. But their house is a few miles from that of Sir Edward's.'

Kate was silent, and Adam nodded slowly. 'You must have seen how it was with them,' he went on gently. 'Sir Edward told me a little, how once he'd hoped she would marry him, but she insisted her place was with you. He would have taken you in as well when your mother died, but by then it was too late. He had contracted another marriage, thinking your aunt lost to him. Would you deny them another chance of happiness?'

Numbly Kate shook her head. 'Of course not. I didn’t know.' Of course she would do nothing to hinder this chance of happiness for her beloved aunt, but somehow, she had to find some solution to her own problems.

Would she be forced into marrying Adam after all? A wave of pure terror swept over her. There must be alternatives. She could go back to Oxfordshire and throw herself on Diana's mercy until she could begin to make her fortune by her writing, or she could persuade Thomas to marry her, surely. He'd always done what she wished, and he would agree to help her.

The thought repelled her. He was still a boy, and though they had been good companions, she didn't want to marry a boy.

'You cannot stay here with me, unchaperoned,' Adam was saying, 'and you have not been invited to go with them. In any case their hosts are an elderly couple, there are no young people nearby. This way is best.'

Perhaps, she thought desperately, if Aunt Sophie and Sir Edward married soon, they would offer her a home. For the time being, it seemed as though she would have to agree to this plan.

'Very well,' she said with a sigh. 'When do we go?'

'In two days, but don't sound so reluctant. Bath has its compensations, and can be quite pleasant if you don't have to drink the waters!'

Bath might be pleasant, Kate thought gloomily, but the prospect of staying with Annabelle Wilson, watching her flirt with Adam all the time, was distinctly unappealing. She tried to console herself by the thought that in Bath, even if Adam were there with Annabelle, she could enjoy herself. She would have the income from her grandfather's legacy, and could indulge herself in good clothes and the many pretty things she had never before hoped to possess.

And perhaps it might turn out for the best. If Adam found he could not bear to live without Annabelle's constant company, despite the fact she was married, he might cease to threaten her with a distasteful marriage. He had made no mention of that recently, so perhaps he was coming to the conclusion it would not do. Perhaps, even, this scheme might be a ploy for her to meet respectable men. If she could receive a good offer it would be a way of getting rid of her without having to keep his promise to her grandfather.

The thought was not so cheering as she would have expected a few weeks earlier. She was resentful of the manipulation of her affairs, but the prospect of spending several months in Bath was so enticing she pushed out of her mind all other considerations.

'I would like to go to Bath. Thank you, Adam'

'Good,' was all he said, and after telling her the details of the travel arrangements he virtually dismissed her, saying he had much to see to and was expecting his bailiff at any minute.

She left the library and, wishing to avoid her aunt for the time being, wandered into the Chinese saloon. This was rarely occupied during the daytime, the ladies preferring a small and cosy parlour in the other wing of the house. She was sitting on the window seat overlooking the terrace when Sir Robert found her.

'Kate, I have been searching all over for you,' he exclaimed, and drew up a small chair to sit beside her.

'I came here to think,' she explained. 'Has Adam told you he plans to take me to Bath'

'Yes, I just saw him, and that is partly what I wanted to see you about.'

'Oh?' Kate raised her eyebrows enquiringly. 'Do you mean to be in Bath too?'

'Would that please you?' he asked, capturing her hand and holding it firmly in his own large, strong one.

'I - oh - yes,' she stammered, and he smiled triumphantly.

'Kate, I didn't mean to speak so soon, after your grandfather's death, and because we have known each other for so short a time, but you must have seen I have come to love you, I cannot do without you. May I hope that one day you might consider marrying me?'

Kate was shaken. She had known Sir Robert liked her, and she liked him, but had not expected such a declaration. Her first instinct was one of panic, a desire to flee. And yet this was the kind of solution to her problems she had been envisaging.

'I - I don't know what to say,' she exclaimed at last.

'Of course not,' Sir Robert replied soothingly. 'I am not so unreasonable as to expect an answer at once, and after so short an acquaintanceship. I just had to let you know how I feel, and ask you to consider me. I must go home tomorrow, but I should be able to arrange my affairs so that I can travel to Bath in a month or so. I do hope you will have thought about my offer and perhaps be ready to give me your answer then. Will you?'

'I will try to,' Kate promised, but she felt afraid. Was he, by no means a wealthy man, although he had a modest estate and sufficient income, looking to add to his fortunes by acquiring hers? Did he know the conditions? Would he have made the offer if he did?

Thoroughly confused, she was grateful to him for his restraint, in that he made no attempt to touch her other than to hold her hand, and was not trying to persuade her into an immediate decision. She rose hastily to her feet and with a fleeting smile, stepped round him and almost ran out of the room and up to the privacy and seclusion of her bedroom, where she could attempt to disentangle her confused emotions in peace.

On the following morning she was surprised, passing through the hall, when Adam called her into his business room.

'Kate, can you spare me a few minutes?'

'What is it?' she demanded suspiciously. When Adam spoke in this conciliatory tone he usually intended to announce something distasteful.

He grinned and she was uncomfortably certain he had read her thoughts. And she did wish he wouldn't smile at her in just that way. It confused her.

'I've been sorting out some of your grandfather's possessions,' he said, 'and it occurred to me you have no jewellery apart from the few trinkets your mother left you, and you can't wear those while you are in mourning.'

'I have the string of pearls,' Kate said quickly. 'Surely it would be acceptable if I wore those when I go into half mourning?'

'Yes, but I found this locket amongst all the fobs and rings. It is gold, and discreet. You could wear that when the pearls are not suitable.'

'Thank you,' Kate said slowly. 'Does it open? Are there any pictures inside?' It might, she thought, contain miniatures of her mother and grandmother.

'I haven't found the trick of it. Perhaps you will have better luck.'

Kate took the locket up to her room and sat beside the window, turning it various ways. Joan came in carrying some gowns she had washed and ironed, and saw what she was doing.

'That's pretty, Miss. It's just like the one James found in his lordship's pocket.' She looked more closely. 'I'm sure it’s the same.'

'How do you know?' Kate asked sharply.

'Look, you can see the letters M and C entwined in the pattern,' Joan said, and Kate nodded.

'Where did James show it to you?'

'It was the day you arrived here with his lordship. As he hadn't brought his valet James saw to his clothes, and I was collecting the shirts to wash. It was in the pocket of his greatcoat, and we thought it was an odd thing for a gentleman to carry about. James put it with the rest of the things, pins and rings, in the old master's dressing room. His lordship sleeps there, in the main suite of rooms, now.'

'Yes, I suppose so,' Kate said absently. Perhaps Adam had meant the locket had been found in the London house. But it was an odd thing for him to carry in his pockets.

Joan had hung up the gowns and left the room. Kate slid her nail round the edge of the locket, and with a gasp of excitement felt the two halves click apart. Slowly she opened it, and then stared down in dawning horror at the two miniatures it contained. She blinked. There was no mistake. Staring back at her were tiny, exquisite paintings of Chloe and Martin Shore.

How on earth did her grandfather come to possess this? She looked more closely. The paintings had been very well done, and the likenesses were excellent. Then it occurred to her that Chloe's hair was very short. The paintings must have been done within the past year, since it was only from that time that Chloe's hair had been cut. Previously, she'd told Kate, she'd had to endure ringlets.

It was impossible her grandfather could be in possession of such a locket with these pictures. And then Kate caught her breath. There was one explanation. She shivered, and sat clutching herself in an agony of doubt. For the past few weeks she'd managed to thrust to the back of her mind Darcy Limmering's death. She had heard no more, didn't know if the murderer had been discovered.

She forced herself to recall that dreadful day. The necklace had been found on Darcy's body. As far as she knew there were no other jewels found apart from one box. But that did not prove there had been no others. The murderer might have removed some, and either missed the necklace or been disturbed before he could take it. She gulped nervously. She didn't want to believe Adam could have killed Darcy. The fact she didn't want to marry him didn't mean she believed him capable of cold-blooded murder, or too cowardly to explain if it had been an accident.

Adam had no need of paltry jewels! The locket was gold, but not of great value. And Adam was rich enough to buy all the jewels he wanted. Theft could not have been his motive for removing them, if he had killed Darcy. But he might have wished to make it appear so.

She forced herself to try and think what could have happened. Adam had found Darcy in the stables. He might even have enticed him in there, once he knew he was still on the inn premises. They'd fought, and Darcy had been killed. Adam might have thought stealing anything of value would have made the murder look like one committed by robbers. Perhaps he'd meant to drop something, an empty purse or a few coins, to suggest that, but hadn't had time.