Sandra Heath (17 page)

As she went up the staircase, the ghosts were startled to realize they were not alone in following her, for a familiar whiff of sulfur made them turn to see Amabel, a silent shadow in moss-green silk gown. They still did not know why she hated Henrietta sufficiently to try to kill her. They only knew that she was very dangerous indeed, so they lingered until she’d passed, then they followed her as she in turn followed Henrietta. It was a stealthy procession that made its way toward the nursery, where Charlotte cradled Eleanor in her arms and made foolish cooing noises, as new mothers are wont to do. Amabel waited until Henrietta had entered, then tiptoed to press her ear to the door. The ghosts watched uneasily, for they could feel her new resolve and knew that tonight Henrietta was in more peril than she had ever been before.

Firelight flickered in the nursery as Charlotte sat in a hearth-side chair, gazing adoringly at her sleeping daughter. The nurse, Mary Gilthwaite, had withdrawn discreetly into the adjoining room to sort through some of Eleanor’s tiny clothes. Henrietta did not know she was there as she spoke.

“I must talk with you. Charlotte.”

Charlotte’s diamond earrings sparkled as she looked up swiftly. She smiled. “You gave me quite a start. I didn’t hear you come in. If you’ve come to dandle your goddaughter upon your knee, I fear I’m too selfish to part with her.”

“That isn’t why I’ve come.”

Charlotte detected an odd tone in Henrietta’s voice. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes, I fear there is. Charlotte do you recall saying no one could have a better friend than me?” Henrietta asked quietly, placing the lighted candlestick on a table.

“What a strange question. Yes, of course I remember.”

“Then is it not a pity that I can no longer pay you the same compliment?”

Charlotte’s smile faded. “What do you mean?”

“That you have let me down.”

Charlotte got up, her dismay visible in the dancing light from the hearth. She went to lay the baby gently in the cradle, and then came over to Henrietta. “What is it? What has happened?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about George and Amabel?”

At the door, Amabel’s lips parted, and Jane and Kit looked at each other in astonishment.
So jealousy
was what lay behind it all! Amabel was intent upon preventing another woman from becoming Sutherton’s wife. Suddenly they understood the conversation in the cloisters on the night of the ball. Amabel was aware that Marcus knew of her affair with Sutherton, and she had been at pains to convince him he was wrong.

Charlotte exhaled slowly. “How did you find out?”

“Nurse correctly interpreted what happened at breakfast this morning, and was unguarded enough to let something drop to me. I made her tell me.”

Charlotte put a quick finger to her lips. Her gray velvet evening gown whispered as she went to the adjoining room. “That will be all for tonight, Mary. You may retire.”

“Very well, my lady.” Mary bobbed a hasty curtsy, and then went through into the room beyond, which was her little bedroom. Charlotte saw that both doors were firmly closed before returning to Henrietta. “Please believe me when I say it was not easy to discover what we did, and then say nothing to you. You are going to marry that mongrel Sutherton, and you
insist
upon regarding Amabel as a dear friend, so how could Russell and I tell you they were possibly conducting a liaison behind your back?”

“Possibly?”

“The only proof we have is something Russell was told the last time he was in White’s. It was rumor, no more, but it seemed very firmly founded.”

“The gist being that George and Amabel are lovers?”

“Yes. Henrietta, if there is any truth in all this,
they
are the ones you should confront, not me.”

Henrietta thought for a moment, and then exhaled slowly. “I know. I suppose I’m taking the coward’s way out by picking on you instead.”

“Henrietta, now you’ve found out about Amabel and George, I don’t understand how you haven’t scratched out her eyes.”

Henrietta glanced away. She cared very much that Amabel was now with Marcus, but she didn’t care at all if Amabel had been between the sheets with George. The marriage wasn’t going to take place anymore, and that was that. She’d felt angry and betrayed by the secrecy, not by any involvement of the heart. It was Marcus who had her heart. .. She thrust the train of thought aside. “Charlotte, what exactly did Russell hear in London?”

“Only what I’ve already said. He made a few inquiries, but could dig no deeper. And please spare me a heated defense of Amabel’s virtues, for I believe that deep down you
know
she is a devious, designing
chienne.
She and Sutherton are well matched.”

Henrietta moved away to the fireplace, where the spangles on her gown caught the light almost as brightly as Charlotte’s diamonds. For a long moment she stood looking thoughtfully down at the flames, and then glanced back over her shoulder. “You’re quite right, I
do
know that Amabel isn’t an angel.”

“Well, at least you admit it at last. Anyway, whatever may or may not have gone on with Sutherton in the past, it must be over now, for Marcus appears to be the latest apple of her designing eye.”

At the door, Jane and Kit shook their heads. Oh, no, the affair with Sutherton certainly wasn’t over, nor was there now a liaison of any kind with Marcus, just some artful deception on Amabel’s part. She had to stay close to Henrietta if she was to succeed in her murderous plans, and an unwelcome denouement might result in untimely expulsion from the abbey. She was therefore intent upon fooling not only Marcus, but also Charlotte and Russell. Fearing the former might tell, and not realizing the latter already knew but had decided not to speak of it, she set out to cast doubt on any unwelcome revelations by pretending to leave Marcus’ room that morning at a time when she knew Russell would see her. The puzzled ghosts had seen her just standing there with a hand on Marcus’ door, as if she had just emerged, and hadn’t understood. Now all was clear.

In the nursery, Henrietta kept a brave face. “Until today, I had no idea Amabel felt anything for Marcus.”

There was a faint noise at the door, and Charlotte turned sharply. “What was that?”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

Charlotte hurried to fling the door open. There was no one there, but the candles just along the passage toward the staircase fluttered as if someone had just hastened past. Charlotte shivered, but then told herself that the flames were only moving because of the many drafts that crept through the abbey. She went back into the nursery. “Where were we?”

“I’d just said I had no idea Amabel felt anything for Marcus.” Henrietta swallowed. “Charlotte, I still have feelings for him too. In fact, I’m still hopelessly in love with him,” she confessed quietly.

“Oh, good Lord.” Charlotte was so shaken she had to sit down.

Henrietta continued. “I’ve loved him all along, and I think I always will.”

“And you
still
intend to marry Sutherton?”

Henrietta hesitated, and then shook her head. “No, I’ve decided I can’t. When Nurse told me what she’d guessed about Amabel and him, I realized I couldn’t go through with it. I was suddenly faced with exactly how little regard he had for me. I wasn’t going to say anything until I’d had a chance to speak to him, but since you ask me a direct question ...”

Charlotte breathed out with relief. “Oh, thank goodness, for I vow that if you’d proceeded, you would have been the most wretched bride on earth. But Henrietta, if Marcus is the one you love, you mustn’t give up without a fight!”

“He’s with Amabel now,” Henrietta reminded her. “Besides, mine is not only an unrequited love, it’s also a very ill-advised one. I told you why he pursued me in the first place, so I know his ardency was false.”

“I still cannot believe he would do such a thing. Not Marcus, and not for a wager.”

“Well, he did.” Henrietta gave a sad smile, then picked up the candlestick once more and left the nursery.

Chapter Eighteen

The trembling of the candles Charlotte had seen in the passage had been caused when Amabel ran to the nearest passage to hide. It was the passage that led to Marcus’ room, and as the nursery door was flung open, she’d just drawn back out of sight in a cold window embrasure behind some heavy arras curtains. The window happened to be the very one where, on the night of the ball, she had hidden Henrietta’s betrothal ring on the pelmet. Kit slipped through the curtains to stand with her, but Jane had remained to eavesdrop upon Henrietta and Charlotte. After a few moments the nursery door closed again, and Kit watched as Amabel exhaled with relief. He wished he could read her mind. Whatever it was, the insidious odor of sulfur was all around.

Amabel leaned her head back against the cold glass. She was still shaken to realize that Charlotte and Russell had known all along about her affair with George, and upset too that Henrietta had now found out. Everyone knew, but only Marcus had ever mentioned it. Not that he was sure of his facts anymore. Amabel smiled a little, but then the smile faded. Henrietta’s discovery did not seem to have made any difference, for she hadn’t indicated any intention to withdraw from the match. Which meant that nothing had changed; tonight the future Lady Sutherton had to breathe her last.

Amabel opened the reticule looped over her wrist. From it she took a tiny blue glass vial. Even behind the curtain there was sufficient light from the passage for Kit to read the single word written upon it in gold. Curare. Amabel gazed at the vial for a moment and then replaced it in the reticule. The blood coursed wildly through her veins, and myriad expressions made her face ugly. A plan had begun to form, and she parted the curtains to glance toward Marcus’ door, beneath which shone a thin line of light. She stepped from hiding and hurried to the main passage to get one of the lighted candlesticks, before returning to the embrasure and listening for the soft sound of the nursery door opening again.

The cold air from the window made her shiver, and she glanced out. It was the first cloudy night in nearly a month, and the bay was dark. At two o’clock the
Légère
would lie offshore, watching for the signal from St. Tydfa’s. Amabel smiled as she recalled how laboriously she had gathered information about the channel and the boom, only to find there was no longer any need to even be concerned about such obstacles. Now the smugglers’ path offered a
much
safer landing! She also had information to divulge about the precise whereabouts of the Treasury gold. In vain had Charlotte denied its existence, for diligent inquiries among the abbey servants had finally revealed the truth. No doubt Russell thought the old icehouse a clever ruse, but such a deserted, unprotected place, with the livery stable conveniently on the edge of the town, was heaven-sent to the
Légère.
A string of horses could soon carry the gold from the icehouse, down the cliff path to a waiting boat, and the good citizens of Mulborough would not even realize what was happening. Before dawn broke, a portion of England’s gold would be on its way to France! Amabel glanced at her little fob watch. In less than three hours she would start signaling from the churchyard.

Kit’s unease intensified. The creature had more in mind than just Henrietta’s demise; he knew from the way she glanced outside and at her watch. The phantom glanced at the window as well, but all he saw was the dark, starless sky. His thoughts broke off as Jane suddenly fled toward him along the passage, having realized that Henrietta was about to leave the nursery.

“Kit, where are you?” she whispered urgently.

“Here!” He beckoned her behind the curtain. He had no fear that Amabel would hear or see anything, because he was certain she wasn’t in the least psychic. As the nursery door opened again and Henrietta emerged, Kit whispered briefly what he’d witnessed.

Amabel heard the nursery door as well, and stiffened expectantly. Shielding the candle with her hand, she slipped out of hiding to Marcus’ door and there took up a position with one hand on the knob, as if she had but that moment come out. She was careful not to make any sound that Marcus might hear.

As Henrietta’s footsteps neared the corner, Amabel shook the candle so the flame danced in the otherwise shadowy passage. Henrietta turned and Amabel put a finger to her lips before hurrying to her, whispering excitedly. “Oh, Henrietta, I’m so happy that I feel I will burst. I have long loved Marcus, and he has just confessed he loves me too!”

Henrietta’s glance moved toward the light beneath Marcus’ door. “I—I’m very glad for you, Amabel.”

Amabel linked her arm and accompanied her toward the landing. “I confess I was dismayed when I saw him kissing you in the entrance hall that time, but you said it meant nothing, and he said the same.”

Henrietta didn’t comment.

Amabel’s green eyes shone in the candlelight, and she squeezed Henrietta’s arm. “I can’t believe he’s mine at last. And to think I have Sutherton to thank.”

“George?”

“Yes.” Amabel gave a rueful smile. “To be truthful, he and I are quite good friends, although we haven’t told you for fear you would misunderstand. Others have misinterpreted, you see, and we didn’t want you to do the same. There has never been anything between us—we just get on. There, it is off my conscience at last. If you only
knew
how I’ve worried over it. Anyway, I confided in George how I felt about Marcus and he told me to show my hand. So that is what I did. I was quite shameless when you and Charlotte were at Mulbridge. I wonder Russell didn’t tell you, for I vow he must have seen me leaving Marcus’ room on more than one occasion. He certainly saw this morning. Oh dear—” Amabel halted, and bit her lip ashamedly. “How totally without principle you must think me.”

Henrietta managed a smile. “Amabel, you and Marcus are at liberty to do as you please.”

“How dear a friend you are, indeed. After Marcus, I vow I love you most in all the world. If I can ever,
ever
be as good a friend to you, I will be content.” Amabel kissed her cheek and squeezed her arm again. “I have a fancy for a cup of chocolate, and I’m sure I can persuade the cook to make some specially. Will you join me?”