Swept Away (24 page)

His hands clenched unconsciously, and he was aware of an enormous desire to hit something. Why was she so bullheaded? So damnably devoted to Selby? Yet he knew he could hardly have wished her otherwise. Where she loved, she loved with all her heart and soul. It would be a sweet thing—if only one were the man she loved. He pulled his thoughts back from that dangerous territory. He did not want Julia Armiger's love. She was treacherous and deceitful.

Yet even as he thought the words, he knew that she had acted as she did only because of the strength of her convictions. She would not lie for her own gain or to hurt someone—unless, of course, they had hurt her or hers.

But it didn't matter, he reminded himself. He had less chance of receiving that love than any man he could think of. She hated him. She did not even want to marry him when circumstances dictated that it was the only thing she could do to save her good name. She had told him quite flatly that she would rather live and die in shame than be married to him. She could hardly have been plainer in her dislike.

He told himself that he was a fool to keep insisting that she marry him. Of course, after he had told that witch Pamela St. Leger that they were already married, he could hardly do anything else. He probably should have kept his mouth shut and let Julia stew in the mess she had made. It had been an idiotic notion on her part, anyway.

But as he thought about it, he could not suppress the faintly rueful smile that touched his lips. No other woman, he knew, would have dreamed up such a scheme, risking everything in a desperate attempt to salvage her brother's name. It had been foolhardy, of course, but, still, she was full of heart and courage. And the way she had kissed him…it was hard to believe that she was an inexperienced young woman of proper upbringing. Yet he had no doubt that she was; if there had ever been the slightest hint of scandal about Julia's virtue, Pamela St. Leger would have told everyone.

His thoughts strayed from memories of Julia's false kisses to thoughts of their marital bed, and his loins tightened. It annoyed him that he could still feel desire for her after the tricks she had played on him, knowing how she felt about him. Yet yesterday, stuck in the carriage with her all day, his thoughts had been consumed by her. He kept stealing glances at her breasts and thinking about how they had felt in his hands, full and soft, the nipples pebbling beneath his touch. Interspersed with such thoughts were memories of their kisses, of the softness of her long throat, of the little breathy sighs she had murmured as his lips explored her body. And this afternoon, when she had started to cry, at first he had just moved instinctively to comfort her, but it had taken only feeling her soft body pressed against him to turn him pulsing with desire, his mouth seeking hers. How galling that he could control himself no better than that!

It was even more galling to think that Julia must realize it, too. He had broken his constraints and kissed her twice since he had found out about her treacherous pretense of desire. How could she not realize the effect she had on him? Just as surely, of course, he had no effect on her. She had coolly, calmly manipulated him, after all, using her kisses, her body, her touch, to lure him into confessing. That was certainly not the mark of a woman who had any interest herself in their lovemaking. No, while he had panted with desire, she had been calculating how to bring him to his knees. Deverel's jaw tightened at the thought.

And yet…this afternoon she had responded to his kiss. Surely that had not been mere pretense. She had been weakened by her tears, rocked by reading her brother's suicide note; he could not believe that she had been capable at that moment of engaging in any manipulation. And did that not mean that gradually, as time wore on, he might be able to breach her defenses? That she might, with familiarity, come to feel something for him?

Deverel let out a low growl, disgusted with himself for the turn his thoughts were taking. That was not why he was marrying her, after all. He was marrying her because it was what duty and honor called for. It was what a gentleman would do. It had
nothing
to do with desire.

He returned to his seat behind the desk, and his eyes fell upon the suicide letter still lying there where Julia had placed it. He picked it up and perused it thoughtfully. All of Julia's points, he thought, strained credulity. Only a loving sister could still maintain Selby's innocence in the face of this damning letter. To do so, she had had to paint Deverel black. If he were a kind person, he thought, he would let Julia continue to believe that Selby had not been guilty. But he knew he was not that good. He was growing exceedingly weary of seeing the suspicion and dislike in Julia's eyes when she looked at him. One way or another, he thought, he was going to prove to her that he was no criminal, even if it meant helping her conduct a full-blown investigation of the whole crime. Painful as it would be for her, he would make her see that her brother had indeed embezzled the money—and that she was wrong in her harsh judgment of himself.

 

Julia went down to dinner in the same dress, which she was growing thoroughly tired of. She thought that when she got her own clothes, she would throw this dress in the fire. Lady Stonehaven's dresser had come into her room late in the afternoon with one of her ladyship's dresses, which she had done her best to make over for Julia. But even after she had let out its hem full length, the dress was still short on Julia, ending comically above her ankles. Even her old dress was better than that.

She was grateful to see, when she went downstairs into the drawing room where they gathered before dinner, that Lady Stonehaven, with her usual kindness, had not dressed up for dinner, either, but was wearing a soft gray day dress. Lady Stonehaven, Julia thought, was quickly developing into one of her favorite people. She could not understand how such a woman could have turned out a son like Deverel.

They were just about to go in to dinner when there was a loud knock on the front door. “How odd,” Lady Stonehaven commented. “I wonder who that could be.”

Stonehaven stepped out into the hallway, where he had a view of the front door as the footman went to answer it. “Good God!” he exclaimed. “Pemberton!”

“Who?” Lady Stonehaven asked, puzzled.

“What!” Julia shot up from her seat and ran into the hall to join Deverel.

Sure enough, there, standing just inside the front door, was Geoffrey Pemberton. “Cousin Geoffrey!”

He glanced down the hall and saw her. “Julia! You pesky child. I told Phoebe there would be nothing wrong with you, and, of course, here you are, looking healthy as a horse.”

Julia started down the hall toward him, trailed by Deverel and his mother. “Whatever are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? Chasing after you, my dear cousin. And damned uncomfortable it was, too, I might add. Had to go back and get something that silly nurse forgot, and then we found it after all in the bottom of a trunk. It was his favorite toy, too. I ask you, why would you bury that in a trunk when you knew he'd start howling for it right away?”

“Who?” Julia asked, staring at him blankly. “What nurse? Who was howling? What are you talking about?”

“Why, your nephew, that's who. I expect you may not realize it, but the lad's got a dreadful temper.”

“Gilbert?”

“Yes, of course, Gilbert. Who else were we talking about? I say, Julia, are you feeling all right? First you write that dashed odd note to Phoebe and get her all in a pucker, and now you don't know who your nephew is.”

“You mean, Gilbert came with you? Gilbert and Phoebe are with you?”

“Of course. Don't think I'd come up here on my own, do you?” Geoffrey looked shocked. “Phoebe took it into her head that you were in some sort of danger, and she talked me into going with her.” He glanced toward Deverel and Lady Stonehaven, and looked abashed. “Silly, of course. I can see that now—you were just paying a visit, I daresay.”

Julia ignored his speech, saying, “Where is she?”

“Out in the carriage. Thought I'd better knock first and see how the wind blew, you know.”

“Oh, Geoffrey, that's wonderful!” Julia gave him an impulsive hug, startling him, then ran out the front door. “Phoebe!”

The carriage door opened, and Phoebe hopped out, her son right behind her. Julia ran down the steps toward them.

“I'm so glad you're here!” Julia enveloped Phoebe in a hug.

“I knew it!” Phoebe cried softly. “I knew you needed my help. What happened? Did he kidnap you? I was so worried when Nunnelly told me that you had vanished and Lord Stonehaven had escaped! And there was that strange note from you. Then Varian came to call and said that Fitz had told him you were already married to the man. Is that true?”

“No. Not at all. I have no intention of marrying him. But he didn't kidnap me—well, not exactly. I mean, he did at first, but then, when he found out who I was, well, I went with him in order to get away from Pamela—he probably would have forced me to go even if I hadn't wanted to. He is a very stubborn man. Then I thought I could learn more about the embezzlement if I came….”

She paused, remembering that she had decided not to tell Phoebe about the suicide note. After all, she was sure it was false, and showing it to Phoebe would only hurt her for no reason. However, she would have to tell her something, for she had written in her note to Phoebe that Stonehaven had “important information.”

“But it turned out to be nothing,” she went on slowly, her mind racing. “He, uh, he had a note that he had received from Selby, you see, asking Stonehaven to meet him at the hunting lodge. He thinks that proves that Selby committed suicide. But it proves nothing. It was forged, just like all the letters.”

“Aunt Julie! Aunt Julie!” Gilbert, tired of being ignored, exclaimed, tugging at her skirts. “I lost a tooth. See?” He grinned widely to expose a gap in his front teeth.

“My goodness, so you did! When did that happen?”

“On the way here,” Phoebe said, a giggle escaping her. “Poor Geoffrey—I thought he was going to be ill when Gil showed him the prize, still decorated in blood.”

“Cousin Geoffrey said I was a damned rascal!” Gilbert added proudly.

“Did he now? Did you give your cousin a difficult time?”

“No!” Gilbert looked indignant. “I let him hold my soldier some of the time.” The toy in question was still clenched in his fist, and he held it up to show it to his aunt. “And we played games. Didn't we, Mama?”

“Yes, dear. We counted cows and horses and sheep. It was most enlivening.” Phoebe's eyes twinkled merrily.

“Oh, my.” Julia looked at her sister-in-law as Gilbert skipped ahead of them to the steps. “I am trying to picture Cousin Geoffrey counting horses and cows and sheep.”

Phoebe laughed. “Poor dear man. He was an angel, bless him. I was scared to come all by myself, and I am afraid I more or less trapped him into escorting me. I should have told him he might prefer to ride outside the carriage, but I forgot. Gilbert nearly plagued him to death with questions, and, poor little tyke, Gil got travel sick, as he so often does.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Four times.” Phoebe held up her fingers to emphasize the point. “We had to stop by the side of the road each time. Of course, Geoffrey had to ride facing backward, so that Gilbert could ride facing front, because it makes him less sick. But the crowning blow was when Gilbert put his fingers in his mouth and began to wiggle that tooth, as you know he does. When he pulled it out triumphantly, blood and all—well, I have never seen such horror on a man's face before.”

Julia laughed. “I wish I had been there to see it! That would have been worth paying admission.” She linked her arm through Phoebe's and followed Gilbert up the steps to the front door. “Now, I want you to come in and meet Lady Stonehaven. She is almost enough to induce me to marry Deverel.”

Phoebe looked at Julia askance. Deverel? He was Deverel now, not the dreadful Lord Stonehaven? What was going on here?

I
nside, they found Geoffrey talking to Lady Stonehaven and Deverel.

“Lady Stonehaven,” Julia said, smiling and leading Phoebe forward. “Please allow me to introduce you to my very dear sister-in-law, Lady Armiger. Phoebe, this is Lady Stonehaven, who has been so kind to me. Lord Stonehaven, of course, you know.”

“We have met,” Deverel acknowledged, casting a sardonic look at Julia. “Of course, that was back when you wore spectacles, Julia.”

His mother glanced at him oddly. “What—oh, I suppose that is one of your nonsensical jokes.” She stepped forward to take Phoebe's hand. “Dear Lady Armiger, I am so glad that you are here.”

Phoebe looked rather abashed and said, “I am sorry to drop in on you like this. It is just that when I got that note from Julia, it, uh, worried me.”

“Don't give it another thought,” Lady Stonehaven assured her breezily. “Of course you would want to be here to support Julia when she gets married, and I am sure that she wants you here. It is only natural to want one's family around. If anyone is to blame, it is Deverel, for giving us so little notice of the nuptials.”

“We will stay in the inn in the village, of course,” Phoebe assured her, ignoring the subject of marriage.

“Nonsense. It is quite inadequate. I am sure you would not be comfortable. You must stay here. It's a big old house, and it will take only a few minutes to put rooms to right for you. It's so pleasant to have visitors.”

Phoebe looked doubtful, but she subsided with a grateful murmur. At that moment, Gilbert decided that it was time to make his presence known.

He had been staring up intently at Stonehaven from the moment they walked in the door, and now he piped up, “Are you a bad man?”

“I beg your pardon?” Deverel looked down at the boy.

“Gilbert, no!” Phoebe cautioned, blushing, and Geoffrey groaned, covering his eyes.

“My mother said we were going to take Aunt Julie away from a bad man. Is that you?”

“Gilbert!” Phoebe clasped her hand over the boy's mouth, mortified. “I'm sorry, Lord Stonehaven, he—that is, I—”

“Yes?” Deverel raised an eyebrow, listening politely.

“Deverel, do stop being annoying,” Lady Stonehaven said crossly. “Our guests will think you are quite rag-mannered.”

“Yes, Mother.” He turned back to Gilbert. “Actually, my boy, I think there are times when all of us tend to be bad men, so I have to admit that sometimes I am. Are you ever a bad boy?”

Gilbert nodded, not without pride. “Lots and lots of times. Yesterday Nurse said I was an imp of Satan.”

“Did she, now? You must have made her pretty angry.”

“I took her ribbon, and she said I spoilt it.” He added with a look of righteous indignation, “But I didn't lose it. It was right there round the kitty's neck. I needed a lead, you see.”

“I am sure the ribbon made a lovely lead.”

“It did!” Gilbert seemed impressed with Deverel's understanding. Apparently deciding that Stonehaven was worthy enough, he stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his tooth. He held it out to Stonehaven, saying, “I lost a tooth on the ride.”

Behind him, Geoffrey made an inarticulate noise and turned away, but Deverel won Gilbert's respect by squatting down to his level to examine the boy's prize. “I must say, that's a fine-looking tooth. Was it very hard to get out?”

Gilbert shook his head. “I kept wiggling and wiggling, and all of sudden, pop! Out it came!” He grinned with delight at the memory.

“It sounds like an exciting trip.”

“Yes, and I sicked up four times.”

“Traveling by coach makes you sick? You must have been very brave to have come on the trip, then.”

Gilbert considered the matter and nodded gravely. “I was.”

“Sometime you must let me take you out in my curricle, for it hasn't a top, and I find that when the breeze is blowing in your face and you can see everything around, you don't feel nearly as sick.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Lord Stonehaven, that is so kind of you,” Phoebe murmured, looking rather guilty. “Gilbert, you mustn't plague him.”

“I wasn't plaguing him,” the boy argued, with some justice. “The bad man wanted to talk to me. Didn't you?” He looked at Stonehaven for confirmation.

“Yes, I did. But perhaps you could call me Deverel instead of ‘the bad man.”'

“All right.”

“I say, the boy seems to like you,” Geoffrey commented, a trifle awed.

“I like you, too,” Gilbert assured Geoffrey.

“You do?” Geoffrey's eyes widened in such surprise that Julia had to smother a laugh.

“You let me play with your watch and fobs. And you didn't yell at me, even when I sicked up on your shoes.”

“Oh. Well, poor little devil, I don't suppose you could help it,” Geoffrey allowed, though he looked a trifle green at the memory.

“You know what, Gilbert? We shall have to go riding while you're here. Maybe fishing. We have a splendid pond.” Deverel shot a twinkling look of mischief at Geoffrey. “Just us men—you and Cousin Geoffrey and I.”

Gilbert jumped straight up with a screech and began to babble questions. Geoffrey began to try with almost equal energy to get out of the proposed expedition.

Lady Stonehaven interrupted both efforts, saying smoothly that dinner would be growing cold soon, and Cook would probably have all their heads if they ruined her lovely meal. The butler had already seen to it that two extra places were laid, and a maid whisked Gilbert and his nurse off up to the nursery, where, Lady Stonehaven assured Phoebe, it would be a delight to have a child again after so long.

“My only child, you see,” she said with a mock disapproving glance at Stonehaven, “has been so very disobliging as to not yet provide me with an heir.” She smiled fondly at Julia. “Of course, if I am very lucky, that will change.”

After dinner the women retired to the drawing room for a cozy chat, while Deverel attempted to soothe Geoffrey's lacerated nerves with a brandy in his study. Then the men rejoined them for some more polite small talk. So it wasn't until the party broke up for bed that Phoebe was able to have a private talk with her sister-in-law and find out the answers to the questions that had been plaguing her.

Julia had suggested that Phoebe simply stay with her, so that the servants would not have to make up another room. As soon as the maid had helped them undress and left, Phoebe whirled on Julia.

“What happened?” she asked breathlessly. “What is all this about getting married? And why did you ask for your box of mementos?”

“You brought it, didn't you?” Julia asked a little anxiously.

“It's in the trunk with your clothes.” Phoebe pointed toward the traveling trunk full of dresses.

“You are the best of friends, as well as the best of relatives!” Julia went over to the trunk and opened the lid, looking down at the dresses and undergarments folded as if the trunk contained the crown jewels. “Oh! I never thought I would be so grateful to see my clothes! You can't imagine what it's like to wear the same dress three days running, even if Teresa was kind enough to have it cleaned for me.”

“Teresa?”

“Lady Stonehaven. Isn't she a jewel?”

“She's delightful,” Phoebe agreed. “It's hard to imagine that Lord Stonehaven is her son.”

“Isn't it?” Julia pulled out the teakwood box, caressing its smooth surface. She opened it. Inside lay packets of letters, bound with ribbons.

“I don't understand,” Phoebe said. “Why did you want that box? Was it a secret message of some kind?”

“I wanted the letters. You see—” Julia stopped abruptly, suddenly realizing that she was about to let her wayward tongue run away with her. She could not tell Phoebe about the suicide note, at least, not until she had proved that Selby did not write it. “I, well, I was going to check them against the letters Selby supposedly wrote. To show that he didn't write them.”

“Oh!” Phoebe began to laugh. “Wait until I tell Geoffrey. I was certain that you were trying to let me know that you needed to be rescued, the way that girl in the book did, you know….”

Julia began to laugh. “Oh, no! The one with the statue of Ares?”

“Exactly. But Geoffrey wasn't sure, because he never trusted those ‘plaguey Greek fellows.”'

Julia laughed even harder. “I can just hear him. No doubt he thought them too tiring.”

“Actually, he said that he thought they were a bunch of loose screws.”

“And so they were.” Julia wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. “Dear Cousin Geoffrey.”

“He was very kind, you know, to bring me here. I'm sure he didn't really want to, not a bit. But enough about that. Tell me what happened! Why are you at Stonehaven? And why did Lord Stonehaven tell Pamela that you were married?”

“Let's sit down, and I'll tell you.” She climbed up onto the high bed, patting a spot beside her, and Phoebe followed suit. “Nunnelly was right. Deverel escaped. But he didn't run away. He waited until I came back—strangely enough, I came back to let him go, because I could see that it wasn't going to work at all. He would never have told me anything. But he didn't realize who I was. He thought I was part of a gang that was trying to extort money from him. I certainly wasn't going to tell him any different. He carried me off to the inn in Whitley. Fortunately, the landlord didn't see my face. Deverel told him I was his wife, and he had me wrapped up in my cloak so that the man couldn't see that I was tied up.”

“Tied up!” Phoebe's face paled. “Oh, Julia!”

Julia saw her gentle sister-in-law's expression and was instantly contrite. “I shouldn't have told you that. I'm sorry. It wasn't terrible. He didn't hurt me. He was just frightfully angry—which I can understand,” she conceded. “He started trying to find out about this supposed gang, and finally I made something up, but he didn't believe me. Anyway, the long and short of it is—” she finished blithely, leaving out a great many of the details of that night “—that the next morning I tried to escape down the stairs, and he came after me and, well, he had his arms around me and we were struggling.” There was no reason, she thought, to mention the kiss. “And who should walk in the door but Major Fitzmaurice and Pamela St. Leger? Even Thomas was there! Fitz was escorting them home, you see, and they had stopped for a late breakfast before they got to Farrow.”

“Julia!” Horror was written on Phoebe's face. “Oh, no! This will be the ruin of you!”

Julia sighed. “That is what Deverel said. That's why he told them that it was all right, because he and I were married. I could have kicked him, of course, because that will make it look even worse if I don't—I mean,
when
I don't marry him.”

“Not marry him! But, Julia, love, how can you not?” Phoebe protested. “I mean, to be caught together at an inn in the morning.”

“Without our shoes on,” Julia enlarged upon the scandalous elements of the scene. “We had obviously just gotten up.”

Phoebe grew even whiter. “This is horrible. Pamela will spread it everywhere! Why, Varian already knows about it. Fitz told him as soon as he got back. That man could never keep a secret.”

“I'm sorry, Fee….” Tears welled in Julia's eyes, and she took Phoebe's hand. “I know it will be a great scandal when I don't marry him, but—”

“Don't say that!” Phoebe cried softly. “Julia, you
have
to marry him.”

“No! Not you, too, Phoebe? How
could
I marry him? After everything he's done?”

“But…what if we were wrong?” Phoebe asked worriedly. “What if he isn't the person who took the money? I mean, we have no real proof that he did. He acted like a gentleman when he pretended that you and he were married, in order to save your reputation. He didn't have to, you know. He could have told them the whole story, and then you would have been in an even worse scandal.”

“He said…” Julia continued in a small voice. “He said it was his duty. He said he had compromised me by kidnapping me that night.”

“Does that sound like the sort of thing a man who embezzled money and put the crime off on another would do?” Phoebe began to chew at her lower lip. “He was so good with Gil tonight. He knew just what to say.”

“That doesn't mean he's not an embezzler. He probably felt guilty because Gil is Selby's son.”

“I don't know. What if we did those things to an innocent man?” Phoebe looked in horror at her sister-in-law.

“We don't know that. None of those things prove that he didn't embezzle the money.” Julia frowned, her own doubts welling up in her again. She tried to suppress them. She could not let herself think that way; it was too horrible to contemplate. It was as if a great pit yawned at her feet.
What if she had been wrong? What if she had set out to ruin an innocent man? What if she had permanently alienated herself from the one man whom—