Swept Away (21 page)

“Very nice,” Julia admitted, rather amazed that Lady Stonehaven was being so pleasant to her—and that she was taking everything so calmly. She must know from Julia's last name that her family was under a cloud of scandal. Not only that, Julia had been plumped down in the woman's house completely out of the blue and announced as the woman's future daughter-in-law, with the explanation that her son had to marry her because they had been caught in an indelicate situation. Then, to top it off, Julia had made it clear that she was repelled by the idea of marrying him.

But Lady Stonehaven was quite kind and acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She smiled at Julia and whisked her down the hall to a large, elegant bedchamber.

“This is the rose room,” she explained. “It is the chamber we keep ready for guests. This isn't the first time that Deverel has dropped in on me with unexpected guests—although it is the first time that that guest was a female.”

“I am so sorry, Lady Stonehaven.”

“Don't think a thing of it.” The woman waved away her apology. “As I said, we keep the room in readiness. I merely had one of the maids run a warming pan between the sheets. Even though it's May, I feel that the sheets are a trifle cool at night. Do you find it so?” she continued without waiting for an answer, carrying a candle to an oil lamp on the dresser and lighting it. A warm glow suffused the room. “There. That's better.”

Julia looked around the spacious chamber. It was furnished with dark furniture, more elegant and more remote than that in Lady Stonehaven's sitting room. The dark green brocade bedspread matched the brocade seats of the two chairs, and both went nicely with the heavy green velvet curtains at the windows. The walls were a warm cream color, and a thick woven rug in tones of green, cream and rose softened the floor. But what Julia noticed first was that the wall around one of the windows had been painted with twisting vines of leaves, interspersed with fat pink roses. Julia had never seen anything like it on a wall before, and the depiction was so well-painted that it looked almost as if real roses grew there.

“How lovely!” she cried, going over to the window. She turned back toward her hostess. “Is this your work?”

Lady Stonehaven nodded. “Yes. I'm glad you like it. My brother-in-law stayed in this room a few weeks ago, and he found it decidedly odd. But Stewart has always been a dreadfully stuffy person.” She came over to stand beside Julia and looked at her art. “This is the first thing I painted on a wall. One day this overpowering urge came over me. It just took my mind that I should paint roses in the rose room. We had always called it that, you see, because this window looks down on the rose garden. It's a lovely sight during the day. Well, it just ate and ate at me that I should frame the window with roses, too, so finally I did. I think the servants decided I was mad. No doubt I've convinced them of it the past few weeks, for I painted a mural of Greek gods on one wall of my studio, and I have been considering doing another mural along the gallery.”

She paused, considering. “Of course, the house is really Deverel's now. I suppose I should ask his permission.”

“I am sure he would give it. He seems very fond of you.”

“He is. The boy can be a dear—though I have no doubt that he has not been showing much of that side of himself to you today. Poor thing. Has he ridden over you roughshod?”

She took Julia's arm and led her over to one of the chairs. Julia sat down, and Lady Stonehaven took the other chair, turning toward Julia and leaning forward in a way that encouraged confidences.

“He is obviously used to getting his way,” Julia admitted. She smiled and shook her head. “I should not talk this way to his mother. I am sure you must find me excessively rude.”

“Not at all. Merely honest, which, frankly, I find a refreshing change to so many of the young women I meet, who cannot seem to call up an opinion of their own.” She smiled, but then she said seriously, “And I know my son. After all, I've raised him from the cradle. I'm quite aware of how terribly overbearing he can be. He is so sure he is right about things—and it is quite maddening that he nearly always
is
—that he just goes ahead and decides what should be done. Even when it doesn't suit the other people involved. His father was much the same way, God rest his soul, but such a good man that I could never stay mad at him for long.”

“Lady Stonehaven…” Julia leaned forward on impulse, taking the older woman's hand in hers. “Do you think you could talk to him? Persuade him that this is the wrong thing to do? He will listen to you.”

Lady Stonehaven gave her hand a squeeze. “But, my dear, I'm not sure that it
is
wrong. Oh, I have no doubt that Deverel has gone about it in a draconian way that fairly raised your hackles, and I
quite
understand that you don't wish to give in to his high-handedness. It's only natural. But I fear that Deverel is usually right when it comes to points of honor. If he says that this is the only way to save your reputation, it is probably true.”

“I fear that is a hopeless task!” Julia cried, releasing Lady Stonehaven's hand and jumping to her feet. “Surely you know that my family is already in disgrace. You must have recognized my name.”

“Yes, I thought you must be related to that poor boy Selby. I always thought him such a lively young man. He and Dev were not really close, as Dev was with Walter, but Sir Selby came here to visit a few times. Usually when he was staying at his hunting lodge. He was well-mannered, but very entertaining, as well. The house was never dull when he was around.”

Julia smiled, tears suddenly burning at her eyes. “No. I'm sure it was not. It was that way wherever Selby went.”

“I am sure you must miss him.”

“I do. Terribly.” She sighed and sat back down in her chair. “But you can see, can't you, that I am already in disgrace? Selby's widow and I rarely go out, and then only in our country society. So my situation would be little worse than it is now. It's hardly fair to your family to burden you with the scandal that hangs over us. I cannot think that you would wish to be allied with an Armiger.”

“Well, no, dear, of course it would not be my first choice in a wife for Deverel. But I must own, I find you excessively likable. And I would not wish for Dev to shirk his duty, in any case.”

“But it is so wrong that he should have to! We didn't do anything.”

“I am sure not. But appearances—” She gave a little shrug and added, “And, given the scandal that has already beset your family, I am afraid that everyone will judge you more harshly. It is unfair, of course, but unfortunately, that is the way the world works. You, like Caesar's wife, must be above suspicion.”

“I don't need him to rescue me! I don't
want
him to.”

“Of course not.”

“And I don't want to marry him! I can't!”

“Because of what happened to your brother?”

“Yes,” Julia replied, flopping back down into her chair, relieved that Deverel's mother was so understanding.

“You held Dev responsible for Selby's death, for exposing the embezzlement to the world. Of course you did. I would have done the same. I am sure Deverel was impatient with your reasoning. He has such a strong sense of duty and honor that I am afraid he is sometimes lacking in—oh, not compassion, for I know he felt quite sad and sorry about Selby—but lacking in empathy, I suppose. I fear he does not understand why people sometimes do the things they do.”

“You understand, though, don't you, why I cannot marry Deverel?” Julia hoped that what she had said would be enough for Lady Stonehaven. She could not possibly tell her that she believed that the woman's son was actually a coldhearted embezzler.

“Of course,” his mother replied with a sweet smile. “The problem is, I'm not sure how you can escape it.” She reached over and patted Julia's hand. “Don't worry. You eat your dinner and rest now. I'm sure that tomorrow everything will seem better. We will think about it and see if we can come up with a better solution.”

“Thank you.” Julia felt immensely grateful to Lady Stonehaven. She had expected the woman to be horrified by her son's bringing Julia home and abruptly announcing that she was his fiancée. She had been sure that Lady Stonehaven would dislike her intensely. But she had turned out to be gracious, kind and understanding. It made Julia feel strangely like crying. She thought of what would happen to Lady Stonehaven and how she would feel if Julia was able to prove that Deverel was responsible for the embezzlement, and the idea made her quail a little.

Lady Stonehaven started toward the door. When she reached it, she cast Julia a look back over her shoulder and said, “Are you certain that you have no feelings for Deverel at all?”

Julia felt herself blushing. She could not answer. She could scarcely deny that she had feelings for Deverel. Of course, none of them were the sort of emotions one could reveal to a man's mother, ranging as they did from lust to hate.

She began to stammer out an answer, but Lady Stonehaven merely smiled and went out the door.

W
hile Julia was eating an excellent meal in her room at Stonehaven and going to bed at an unfashionably early hour, her sister-in-law was pacing the floors of their home in London. That afternoon Nunnelly had rushed into the house with the news that he had lost Julia.

“Lost her!” Phoebe had asked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, my lady, that she is nowhere to be found. I've been ridin' all over the estate and onto Farrow land, as well. I've had the grooms out lookin'. It's crazy they're thinkin' me because no one knew she had come home.” He set his jaw. “It's a judgment on me—I shouldn't have agreed to her crazy scheme.”

“Oh, dear.” Phoebe sank down into her chair. “But what about…?”

“His lordship? It's that that's got me right worried. He's clean gone.”

“Oh, dear.” Phoebe repeated, her face turning ashen.

Nunnelly nodded. “When I couldn't find her, I went straight to the hut. There wasn't a soul there. The door was standing wide-open, and inside I found a few scraps of rope and the chimney of the oil lamp, broken on the floor.” He was wise enough not to mention the traces of blood he had seen on one of the shards of glass.

Phoebe's fears had been only partially calmed a few minutes later when a footman brought her a note from Julia, which he said had been delivered by a messenger to their door. Phoebe read it through twice, frowning, then conferred with Nunnelly, who understood as little as she.

“Why is she with Stonehaven?” Phoebe wailed. “What happened? I know she must be in some sort of trouble.”

Nunnelly nodded lugubriously. “There's somethin' not right here, my lady. Why would his lordship be wantin' to marry Miss Julie? After she'd tied him up and all. It don't make sense.”

“Oh, I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this mad scheme!” Phoebe wailed. “I can't think why Julia would have agreed to go with him. He must have forced her.”

“Well, she says here she's looking for important information.”

“Perhaps he forced her to write this note—to allay our fears, keep us from going to her aid. Or perhaps she's trying to trick him, pretending that she will marry him so that she can get inside the house and then look for evidence against him. If he figures out what she's doing, she could be in terrible danger.”

“Maybe I ought to go up to this Stonehaven place and see what's afoot.”

“You wouldn't get anywhere. Lord Stonehaven would close his gates against you. If anyone goes to ask questions…” Phoebe squared her shoulders “…it had better be I.”

A look of amazement passed over the coachman's face, but he said only, “Yes, my lady.”

After Nunnelly left, Phoebe paced the room in an agitated way for a few minutes, then sat down and jotted off a hasty note, entrusting it to one of the footmen. She resumed her anxious pacing, and every noise in the street sent her flying to the window to peer out. With each passing minute she grew more worried about Julia, and when at last she heard the sound of the front door knocker, it was all she could do not to run out into the hall to drag her guest inside.

As it was, when the footman announced the Honorable Geoffrey Pemberton, Phoebe jumped up from her chair and hurried forward, reaching out to take his hands. “Geoffrey! Thank heavens you came!”

“Dear girl! Whatever is wrong?” Geoffrey asked, his usually imperturbable face creasing a little with worry. “Your note sounded, well, almost desperate.”

“It was! I am! Geoffrey, it's Julia.”

“Of course it is.” He led Phoebe over to the sofa. “Here, sit down and calm yourself. You know Julia never gets injured, she just gets everyone else in a pucker. The most tiring girl I ever met.”

“But, Geoffrey, this is much worse than—oh, than anything she's ever done. She's gone to Buckinghamshire!”

“Has she?” Geoffrey looked faintly amazed. “Well, I daresay I wouldn't want to go there, but I don't suppose it's as bad as all that.”

“No, no, you don't understand. That is where Lord Stonehaven lives.”

“Stonehaven! Is she still on about that? I thought she had given that up.”

“No. In fact, well, she abducted him.”

Geoffrey's eyebrows flew up. “Well! Fancy that. And she's taking him home to Buckinghamshire?”

“No, no. Oh, I'm telling this all wrong. She took him to Greenwood, to a shepherd's hut there. She was going to make him tell her the truth.” Phoebe let out a moan and sank her head in her hands. “Why did I let her do that? I must have been mad.”

“Now, now.” Geoffrey awkwardly patted her back. “One doesn't ‘let' Julia do things. She simply does them. I am sure you could not have stopped her.”

“But I did nothing!” Phoebe wailed and began to cry.

“Oh, dear. Now, don't do that.” Geoffrey's usual sangfroid deserted him at the sight of Phoebe's tears. “Here. A spot of brandy. I'm sure that will fix you right up.”

He hurriedly pulled the bell cord on the wall and, when a footman appeared, ordered brandy, adding, with a harried glance toward Phoebe, “In a hurry.”

The footman brought the brandy without delay, and Geoffrey persuaded Phoebe to drink a sip. She gasped as the fiery liquid burned down her throat and blinked. “My goodness.”

“There. You'll feel more the thing now. Brandy's the best medicine.” In demonstration of this opinion, he proceeded to drink the rest of the snifter. “Now,” he said, thinking that at least
he
felt more the thing, “if she has taken him off to Greenwood, what's all this about Buckinghamshire?”

“He escaped! At least, we assume that is what happened. Nunnelly came here this afternoon and told me that the shepherd's hut was empty, and neither Stonehaven nor Julia was anywhere to be found.”

“Nunnelly?” Geoffrey asked, a little lost.

“The coachman. He helped Julia kidnap Lord Stonehaven.”

“Odd sort of servants you have.”

“He's terribly loyal to Julia. And to Selby.”

“But if he didn't know what had happened to them, why do you think she's run off to Buckinghamshire?”

“I got a note from her. I was so confused. It came by messenger and was sent from here in London—yet I knew she was at Greenwood. And it is so odd. She assured me that she was safe. Then she said she was going to Buckinghamshire, and that Stonehaven wanted to marry her!”

“Marry her!” Geoffrey repeated. “Are you sure? You can't have got that right.”

“I know. It sounds preposterous, but that is what she said—and right after that she said that she would not marry him. Here, see for yourself.”

She handed him the note, much creased. “She wants me to send her a trunk of her clothes—to Stonehaven!” She turned the note over. “Look at what she wrote on the back—she wants her teak box. Now, isn't that peculiar?”

“Dash it! I should say so. What does a teak box have to do with anything?”

“I don't know. It seems very odd. She keeps mementos in it—a pressed corsage, some dance cards, mostly letters.”

“Why would she be eager to have a few old keep-sakes?” Geoffrey asked, perplexed, and Phoebe shrugged.

“The only thing I could think was that she was trying to send me some sort of message.”

“Message?” Geoffrey looked blank. “Why didn't she just say so, then?”

“I thought maybe Lord Stonehaven was looking over her shoulder, so she could not be free in what she said. Perhaps she wanted me to know something, do something—only I am too stupid to figure it out!”

“No, no. Not a bit of it. I say, don't cry again.”

Despite her perturbation, Phoebe had to smile at his horrified expression. “No. I shan't. But, Geoffrey, what do you think she was trying to tell me?”

Geoffrey looked back down at the note in his hand. After a moment he said, “Do you suppose she'd been hit on the head?”

“Geoffrey!” Phoebe cried.

“Well, it just doesn't make sense. If I had been kidnapped by some female and got loose, do you think I would turn around and ask her to marry me? And if I did ask her and she said no, would I drag her off to Buckinghamshire? I ask you.”

“I know. But why would she write me such nonsense? He must have seized her and forced her to write it.”

“Forced her to tell you she don't want to marry him? Or that she needs clothes and a box of letters? The truth is, Phoebe, she sounds to me as if she's foxed.”

“Foxed! Are you saying she had been drinking?”

“It's the only explanation I can think of,” Geoffrey admitted. “You didn't like the idea of her getting knocked in the head.”

“But why would she be drinking? Julia's never drunk more than a glass of sherry in her life!”

“I daresay you're right,” he conceded.

They were silent for a moment. “Perhaps it's all a hum,” Geoffrey suggested after a moment.

“Julia would never play a joke like that on me,” Phoebe protested.

At that moment the footman knocked on the door and entered the room again. “The Honorable Varian St. Leger, my lady.”

“Oh, dear.”

“That Fitzmaurice ain't with him, is he?” Geoffrey asked suspiciously.

“No, sir. Merely Mr. St. Leger.”

Phoebe cast a harried look at Geoffrey. The last thing she wanted at this moment was a social caller, but she could not escape the nagging hope that perhaps Varian would tell them something that would shine some light on their problem. “Yes, send him in.”

A moment later Varian entered the room. “Ah, Phoebe, you are a picture, as always. And Pemberton. I say, you seem to be a fixture here.”

“Well, family, you see,” Geoffrey said by way of explanation.

“Of course.”

“How are you, Varian?” Phoebe asked, putting on a smile. “Please, sit down.”

“I am fine. But I heard some news this evening that I could hardly credit. I felt I had to ask you.”

“Oh?” Phoebe's stomach clenched.

“Yes. I saw Fitz at my club just a few minutes ago. I was rather surprised. He had gone, you see, to escort Thomas and Pamela to Farrow, and I hadn't expected him back for a day or two. But he says Pamela was in such a snit that he decided to ride right back to town. You know how she can be. What had gotten her all discombobulated was hearing about Julia and Stonehaven.”

“Oh?” Phoebe asked through stiff lips. “What about them?”

“They ran into the two of them at the inn in Whitley. Stonehaven told them they were married.”

“Married,” Geoffrey repeated blankly. “Already?”

“Then you knew about it?” Varian asked, surprised. “Were they planning to wed? I had never heard anything of it.”

“No, we knew nothing, not until today,” Phoebe said carefully, feeling as if she were navigating treacherous social waters. She did not want to create further scandal by denying that Julia and Stonehaven were married when he had already told people that they were. On the other hand, she did not want to pretend that they were married when Julia might return and say it was all untrue. “I received a note from Julia. It was as much a surprise to me as it was to you.”

“Odd business, that. I would have sworn the two of them hardly knew each other,” Varian mused. “Of course, Julia did say that she was trying to investigate Selby's—well, the embezzlement. Perhaps they were thrown together a lot.”

“Perhaps.”

“Still, hardly seems the sort of thing Dev would do. He's not usually impulsive. Very good fellow, of course—true blue, couldn't ask for a better friend in a fight—but not usually one to do anything rash.”

“I am sure that we will hear the full story soon,” Phoebe told him, smiling.

He stayed for a few more minutes, chatting, but neither Phoebe nor Geoffrey was terribly talkative, and before long he took his leave of them. As soon as the door had closed behind him, Phoebe whirled to look at Geoffrey.

“What do you make of that?”

“Very much what I make of the rest of it, which is nothing sensible. Julia says Stonehaven wants to get married, but she won't marry him. Stonehaven says they are already married—to Pamela St. Leger and Fitzmaurice, than whom there is no one more likely to spread word of it. Fitzmaurice is too big a chucklehead not to talk about it, and Mrs. St. Leger loves nothing more than gossip.” He paused, then added judiciously, “No, that's not true. She loves herself more than anything else, but gossip runs a close second.”

“Do you know Pamela well?” Julia asked.

“Me? No.” He shook his head. “Pretty enough, but she's the sort that expects every man to dangle after her all the time. Tiring sort of thing to do, I think. 'Sides, she don't like Armigers, you know. Always going on and on about Selby—even now. Well, a fellow can't sit around and listen to someone denigrate his family, now can he? I mean, I'm not an Armiger, of course, but Selby was my cousin.”