The Makeshift Marriage (21 page)

Augustine and her mother had already left by the time Laura and Daniel at last escaped from the vicar. They had added to the insults by deliberately sweeping out without a word, and they had not glanced at the other occupants of their pew throughout the service. Their disapproval could only be noted.

The gathering of Langford people was still by the lych-gate as Daniel and Laura left the churchyard, and now for the first time she looked around at them all. Their unfriendly eyes looked back and she saw the accusation there. She saw in particular the Tibdale brothers, the poachers of the marsh, now resplendent in their best clothes, their faces pink and scrubbed, their shirts neat and ironed. As she looked, one of them spat contemptuously on the ground before turning to walk away.

Daniel helped Laura into the carriage and then climbed in himself. As the door closed, the children in the crowd began to blow their May horns, and the discordant sound jeered and mocked as they ran after the moving carriage, following it down the long street toward the bridge. Laura hardly heard them, however, for now her thoughts moved on to what must be done on their return to King’s Cliff
—the carrying out of their plan to relieve James Grenville of control of the house and the estate. She closed her eyes nervously, and Daniel took her hand, drawing it soothingly to his lips as he mistook the gesture for reaction to what had happened at the church.

“Don’t let them hurt you,” he said gently, “for they are not worth your pain.” But then his attention was snatched away as the coachman put his team at the bridge again, coming dangerously close to touching the wheels against the stone parapet.

Angrily Daniel lowered the window and leaned out, his words snatched by the wind as the carriage sped up the hill. “You damned fool! You almost feather-edged men!”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Tregarron, I didn’t mean
—”

“You’re paid to drive this damned drag, not to aim and fire it!”

“Yes, Dr. Tregarron.”

Daniel sat back again, looking anxiously at Laura. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

The carriage drove on toward King’s Cliff, and she swallowed as it turned in through the gates. Her stomach was beginning to churn now, for there was so much that could go wrong. At the very least Nicholas could be caused anxiety…
.
Her hands were ice cold.

Now Daniel knew the reason for her pallor. “Soon it will all be over,” he said gently. “The operation, the sale of the jewels, the ending of the threat from the moneylender.”

She managed a smile, but her heart was not in it. At the door of the house, however, something happened to restore a little of her shaky confidence and depressed spirits.

A gardener stood there, his hat removed and held against his chest as he shyly approached her. “My lady?”

“Yes?” She thought he looked a little familiar.

“My name is Roberts, Frank Roberts.”

“Kitty’s father?” She smiled at him.

From behind his back he drew an enormous bunch of red and yellow tulips which he held out to her. “From my own garden, my lady, to say thank you for your kindness to my daughter.”

Her eyes shone with pleasure as she accepted the flowers. “Why, thank you.”

“They aren’t much, and they certain sure aren’t a match for your beauty, Lady Grenville, but I grew them myself and I’m proud of them. I hope you don’t mind me being so bold.”

She smiled. “I don’t mind at all; in fact I’m very pleased to be given such a beautiful bouquet. Thank you.”

He bowed and then hurried away down the steps, his boots crunching on the gravel drive.

Daniel glanced at her. “He’s right, you know.”

“About what?”

“They aren’t a match for your beauty.”

Laura anxiously paced back and forth across the library floor, her hands clasped nervously in front of her and her eyes lowered to the richly patterned carpet. The smell of books was all around, and through the slightly opened windows she could hear the hounds whining and yelping in their kennels. Glancing out she saw the fresh wheel marks in the newly raked gravel. It was over an hour now since Augustine and her mother had departed for Taunton, and yet Henderson had still not come.

She turned to Daniel, who stood by the fireplace. “Something has gone wrong. I know that it has!”

“Give him time. The pursuit of the fair sex is not something to be accomplished in seconds!” He smiled a little as she resumed her restless pacing.

There was a quiet tapping at the door and the valet’s face peered around it. Seeing they were alone, he came in. “My lady.” He bowed.

“You have seen the maid?”

“I have, Lady Grenville. She took some persuading, I can tell you, for she’s mortal afraid of Miss Townsend, who’s no easy mistress, but in the end she agreed to meet me. She’ll be well away from Miss Townsend’s room at three o’clock.”

She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. One hour from now….

Daniel nodded. “Thank you, Henderson.”

The valet hesitated, glancing from one to the other. Should he mention the rumours about them, which were rife belowstairs? After a moment’s hesitation, he thought better of it, for if the rumors were true, then he would be making a sorry mistake with his revelations. With a slight bow, he retired from the room, but outside he paused again. He could not believe that Laura would so easily turn from Nicholas to Daniel Tregarron. In Venice it had been so very obvious that she loved Nicholas with all her heart. Even so, the valet walked on, unable to bring himself to tell her what was being said of her and the doctor.

* * *

As the hour of three approached, Laura and Daniel strolled along the passage, to all intents and purposes engaged in admiring the various paintings on the paneled walls. Their route took them past Nicholas’s room
—for Augustine’s rooms lay beyond it—and at the closed door, Laura halted.

“May I see him?”

“He is sleeping, and it is best that he does so while he may, for soon the pain will prevent any such rest.”

“He will survive the operation, won’t he?” she asked suddenly, putting her hand on Daniel’s arm.

“I will do all in my power to see that he does, Laura, but no doctor can state categorically that his patient will endure through such an operation. It is my honestly held opinion that the judicious use of sweet vitriol will ensure his safety throughout, but much as I would dearly like to, I cannot promise you anything.”

Her eyes were filled with doubt and fear and Daniel put his hand to her cheek, making her look at him again. “It must be done, Laura,” he said softly. “There is no alternative, for if that bullet is left any longer it will of a certainty make the wound putrid. I have delayed as much as I dare, for he was severely weakened by both the ague and the journey from Venice. Now is the time to do what must be done, and I sincerely urge you not to turn back at the eleventh hour.”

After a moment she nodded. “I will not fail you, Daniel.”

“You do not fail me, Laura. Indeed, had you not doubted, I would have been surprised. Everyone doubts; it is natural to be wary
—especially when you are concerned with the man who is dearest to you in the world.”

Somewhere a clock struck three, and Laura turned to look along the passage toward Augustine’s room, but there was no sign of Betsy May. Perhaps she had changed her mind. Perhaps she had already gone to meet Henderson. How could they know for sure?

Augustine’s door was of imposing gold and white, the gold repeating over and over again the Grenville sun in splendor, and Laura’s pulse was racing as Daniel listened carefully for a moment before slowly opening the door. The sunlit room beyond was deserted; there was no sign of Betsy May. They went quickly inside, closing the door behind them again.

The room was very beautiful, its walls swathed with pale gray silk, and the plasterwork was so heavily and ornately gilded that it reminded Laura of her room in the Hotel Contarini. The bed’s rich drapes were of royal blue velvet, and on the floor was a carpet picked out in a delicate blue and cream pattern. The Grenville emblem was everywhere, the sun’s rays reaching magnificently over plasterwork, carvings, friezes, and doorframes.

Daniel wasted no time. He went to one wall where a large painting of an Italian landscape had been hung, and he lifted it carefully down, revealing that the wall was false and that a small cupboard was concealed there. He smiled at her. “I gather that the key rests in a secret drawer somewhere in the dressing table, but I do not know exactly where.”

As he began his search something caught Laura’s eye in the empty fireplace. She picked it up. It was a sheet of crumpled parchment and she had seen it before, in Augustine Townsend’s hand as she had spoken of her nurse’s tragic illness. Laura flattened the parchment and stared at its blank surface. There was no trace of ink, not a word
—it was further proof that Augustine had gone to Taunton for purposes other than those she had stated to Nicholas. Tossing the parchment down in disgust, Laura went to help Daniel search for the secret drawer.

They had been searching for only a very short time when they suddenly heard voices at the door. Laura gasped, and Daniel moved swiftly, taking her hand and drawing her behind the heavy drapes at the windows. He pulled her close and she hid her face fearfully in his coat, her eyes closed tight and her heart beginning its wild beating again, The door opened, and Daniel glanced in dismay at the painting, so obviously resting against the wall beneath the secret cupboard.

Betsy May stood with her hand on the door, her back toward the room. “Listen here, Johnny Henderson, I just can’t go with you, not when I’ve got so many things to do for Miss Townsend. I must have been mad to say I’d meet you.”

The valet glanced past her and saw to his relief that there was no one to be seen. “Can’t your tasks wait just a while?” he asked. “Just a little while, eh?”

“No.” The maid pouted, pleased by his flattering attention.

“Come on,” he urged. “You’ve plenty of time to do what your mistress wants afterward.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“All right,” he said suddenly, “Do your tasks, there’s plenty of other wenches I can take my pick of.”

“That’s not fair…
.
”

“You may be the handsomest of them all, Betsy May Jenkins, but I don’t have to wait around on the likes of you.”

She hesitated, torn between her duty and her desire for glory belowstairs. The glory won the day. “All right,” she said at last. “All right, I’ll come with you.”

To the immense relief of the two behind the curtains, the maid went out again, closing the door behind her. They remained in each other’s arms for a moment, absolutely motionless until everything was completely quiet again.

Laura began to draw away then, but he held her a moment more. “You are all right?”

She nodded, suddenly very conscious of his closeness. His eyes were very dark as he released her. He didn’t say anything, but she was aware of him in a different way now, recognizing the strength of his desire for her. The realization came as a shock, and her hands were shaking a little as she went to continue searching for the drawer.

It was Daniel’s questing fingertips that discovered the drawer’s whereabouts behind the dressing table. Something clicked and suddenly the drawer was protruding a little from an apparently solid expanse of polished satinwood.

The key turned gratingly in the cupboard’s rusty lock, proof that the Grenville jewels were indeed never used by Augustine Townsend. A silver-gilt casket was revealed inside, and they took it to a table and opened it. Emeralds flashed with green fire in the sunlight, and pearls glowed soft and creamy white. There were sapphires of the darkest hue, turquoises, opals, and most of all, diamonds. Laura held her breath as she took out one of the necklaces, its diamonds glittering like the sun on water, the bright reflections shimmering on the gray silk walls
—just as the water of the Grand Canal had shone on the walls of her room in the Hotel Contarini….

The diamonds were fashioned in the Grenville emblem, many tiny suns linked together by golden chain. Daniel took the necklace and set it on a piece of soft cloth he had brought with him, but Laura retrieved it.

“Not this one,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because it carries his family’s badge.” She replaced the necklace in the casket. “I do not think he would sell this particular piece, do you?”

He smiled at her. “Possibly not, but it would certainly fetch a tidy sum.”

“So will all the rest.”

“Very well, the diamond necklace remains.”

A little later a lot of the jewelry was safely wrapped in the cloth and hidden away in Laura’s reticule. The casket was replaced in the cupboard, the door locked, and everything put back in its place. As they left the room nothing looked as if it had been disturbed, and unless Augustine returned unexpectedly and happened to open the cupboard
—which seemed very unlikely—no one would be any the wiser. Unless something went wrong.

* * *

Charles Dodswell was waiting in the library when they returned, and the moment the door was closed behind them, he took a rolled parchment from his pocket and laid it on a table.

“I have done everything necessary for our purposes, my lady. If Sir Nicholas signs this, it will give complete power of attorney to you; you will be able to act in his name in whatever way you wish, exactly as if you were Sir Nicholas himself. The Earl of Longford will not be able to overrule you on anything, nor will Miss Townsend and her mother. Anything pertaining to King’s Cliff and its estate, anything belonging to Sir Nicholas
—all will be under your jurisdiction until such time as Sir Nicholas himself states otherwise. You will be mistress of King’s Cliff in fact as well as in name.”

She gazed thoughtfully at the document’s neat lines of even handwriting. “Does that mean that I will be able to implement the plans my husband has for King’s Cliff? I could sell the hounds, and the unwanted land and possessions if I wished?”