The Notorious Widow (8 page)

“Is that why Jasper attacked?”

She shook her head. “They were always careful that no one overheard them – or so Carruthers swears. But he sometimes warns others of their peril. Someone probably heard him issue such a warning to the innkeeper at the Golden Stag. Dougan was furious after Jasper threw a platter at a serving maid, breaking her arm – the girl was his daughter. If Carruthers hadn’t talked Dougan out of it, he would have complained.”

“What did Carruthers say?”

“He reminded Dougan that Jasper could easily burn down the inn if he caused trouble.” Fury flashed across her face. “Neither man reported their talk to others, but it is possible that a servant overheard them. They were behind the taproom at the time.”

“But that makes no sense,” he insisted. “No one in his right mind would strike out over something so petty. Jasper should be grateful that Carruthers saved him some trouble. Attacking the man would make it more likely that the earlier tale would become public.”

“You are assuming that Jasper is in his right mind. I have long suspected that he is not. There’s hardly an inn in the district that hasn’t sustained damage from one of his tantrums.”

“Yet no one in society knows of his deeds?”

“How many society figures talk to innkeepers beyond demanding and paying for service?” She glared until he acknowledged that truth with a nod. “Carruthers’s crime was not calming Dougan’s fury but understanding Jasper’s ways. Beyond that, he discussed Jasper’s misdeeds with others. Jasper is attacking me for the same reason. Turning down his advances would have drawn a reprisal, but it is my knowledge of his other attacks that drove him to destroy me.”

“He fears exposure.” It fit with his own thoughts, though the apparent depth of that fear still surprised him.

“It is not fear so much as annoyance. Carruthers could never undermine his credit – he is merely a tradesman, so who would believe him? But Jasper would have to spend time refuting the charges.”

“How awful,” he said with a sarcastic snort. “It would divert him from worthy endeavors like seducing girls and damaging property.”

She laughed, but quickly sobered. “You forget that understanding him destroys respect.” Her head shook. “Another attack occurred just before harvest. Jasper and several friends destroyed a tenant’s grain fields in a reckless midnight race. Jones had complained to Lord Rankin’s steward after another of Jasper’s rides disrupted the planting last spring.”

“Yet he waited several months.”

“If he had retaliated immediately, Jones could have repaired the damage and realized a reasonable profit from the crop. By waiting, he inflicted severe losses that will cause distress for at least a year.”

“I cannot believe anyone would be that devious.” Nor did he believe that a man would do so much harm for so little cause – and so little personal gain. The long wait eliminated anger as a factor.

“That was my first reaction when I heard the earlier stories,” she admitted. “But the pattern of abuse is clear. Take Jones. Four fields were destroyed, though the plots were widely scattered. Yet no other tenant suffered the least bit of damage.”

“None?”

“Not one, though the smallest of Jones’s plots is surrounded by other fields and can be reached only by a narrow path. High-spirited riders indulging in a cross-country race would hardly enter and leave in a single line along the same trail.”

“Persuasive evidence, so why would others believe it was an accident?”

“Jasper claims he sobered up enough to realize what they were doing, so he forced his companions to leave in an orderly fashion. He has been praised for his concern and swift action.”

Blake shook his head. The gossips of Exeter must lack reason.

Catherine continued. “Another fact is that every victim provoked him, though few did so wittingly. If he was merely careless or subject to high spirits, that would not be the case.”

“And this has been going on for years.”

“Two or three instances a year that I know of. Sometimes more. It may have been more when he was younger. Since the lower classes rarely travel – some of our villagers have never even seen Exeter, though it is barely four miles away – it would have taken time for word to spread. Now the lower classes for miles around are so cowed they avoid him, reducing the potential for irritation. But there is nothing you can do to stop him. I doubt even his father could control him anymore. Jasper believes the man is an old fool whose best contribution to the world would be to die.”

“I can see why the task is so formidable,” Blake said, frowning. Though he had peppered her with skeptical questions, he believed her. Yet few would. And others would applaud Jasper’s ability to control the lower classes. Fear of the French contagion permeated society. French émigrés were always at hand, a perpetual reminder of what could happen when people forgot their place.

He shook his head, taking a turn about the room while he digested her information. Despite her misgivings, he must try to stop Jasper. But it would be difficult. The man ruled by fear, forcing people into servility. By mimicking the heedless behavior of arrogant lordlings, he masked his purpose, protecting himself even when society knew what he’d done. Who could look into a man’s mind? Negligence and spite differed only in intent. Since no rational man would take serious offense from these slights, few connected them to later tragedies.

Like the tailor’s complaint. Who would believe the man had spent eight months in debtors’ prison because Jasper’s friend poked fun at his waistcoat? It was hardly an earthshaking insult. People poked fun at society figures every day. Caricaturists made careers of the practice, publishing illustrations ridiculing the Regent, Brummell, and a host of other figures. He’d featured in one himself when Rowlandson had depicted him as a decrepit old man feasting on a table of young beauties. Granted, he had been twenty-eight at the time, a little old to be cutting a swath through the muslin company with all the abandon of a lad just down from school, but he had been too busy to visit London earlier. Only after he paid his father’s last debt had he been free to pursue the pastimes his friends had enjoyed for years. His behavior may have bordered on wild at first, but a gentleman was expected to bring a certain level of expertise to his marriage bed. How else was he to acquire it?

He stifled a grin at such a ridiculous justification of a period he would rather forget, then forced his attention back to the business at hand.

“Is there anyone in society who believes that Rankin is short a sheet?” he asked, resuming his chair.

She shook her head. “The lower classes are too concerned with avoiding his wrath to ponder his mental state. The upper classes ignore his wildness out of respect for his position as heir to a viscount, though a few consider him recklessly high-spirited. But even if they knew the full extent of his plots, they would turn a blind eye because his victims are commoners.”

“But you are not from the lower classes,” he reminded her again.

“I am a woman, which makes it easy to believe the worst of me.”

True, he agreed silently. Society held men and women to different standards.

“No one will look beneath the surface to detect his manipulations, let alone examine his motives. He charms the hostesses, hangs on every word of the gossips, disarms the older gentlemen by listening attentively to their advice—”

“I’ve met men like that,” he admitted. “Their toadeating makes one ill as they admire pets, children, and hunters with such insincerity one wonders if they can tell them apart.”

“But the ploy is effective,” she reminded him. “The gossips chuckle as they shake their heads over his scrapes, treating him like a favored nephew. Especially Mrs. Telcor. The slightest hint of criticism has her snarling like a mother protecting her cub.”

“Yet they turn on you, though your position is nearly as high.”

“Thus speaks ignorance. Mrs. Telcor is the most powerful gossip in Exeter, so few argue with her. My birth may be high, but my position is not. I married down, reducing my consequence even before this began. My work in the parish raises distrust. One lady claims I’ve become a Methodist because I champion the poor instead of chastising them for complaining about their betters.”

“Ridiculous.” He ignored her bitter tone, though he knew exactly how she felt. He’d been taunted on the same grounds as far back as the Easley affair.

“But true. The rumors justify every suspicion. And you must remember that Jasper’s name is not connected. No one in society knows he is involved.”

“Then how did he start them? He must have told someone.” The fire was burning down, so he added coal, not wanting to interrupt the discussion while a servant performed the chore.

A comment on his unconventional manners hovered on her lips, but she bit it back. “They begin as innuendo. He asks the listener’s help in refuting a wildly improbable tale, then casually drops an insinuation at the end.”

“I am not sure I understand.”

“If he decided to punish you for sticking your nose into his business, he might say, Lord Gossip swears that Lord Rockhurst sneaked out of Lady Purity’s rooms at midnight last night, stark naked. Ridiculous, of course. Rockhurst cannot have been the culprit, for I saw him myself at White’s barely half an hour earlier, in deep play with Lord Gamingwhiz. I wonder how much he lost this time.”

He glared, though the point was clear. “Diabolical. The last comment would imply that I was prone to heavy losses and that everyone knows it. Admitting ignorance would prove the listener was not
au courant
. Thus most people would accept the insinuation as fact.”

“Exactly. No one suspects Jasper made the tale up on the spot or that his purpose was to destroy a reputation.”

“I must talk to the other victims,” he said, shaking his head. “Will they discuss this, or are they too cowed by their experiences to take a chance?”

“They will talk if I introduce you.”

“No. People must not see us together. It would add new rumors about you and tell Jasper that I am investigating him. He thinks that I despise you – I passed him after attacking you in Exeter, so he undoubtedly overheard us. Let us keep that impression intact.”

“Dear Lord!” She paled.

“This is good,” he insisted. “As long as he believes your reputation is in shambles, he has no incentive to blacken it further. Do not disabuse him that notion, for it protects you.”

“True.” She sighed. “I will visit Exeter today – it is not raining hard enough to close the road, and there are people I need to see. In the course of my errands, I will call on Carruthers and Jenkins. They will expect you tomorrow.”

“Weather permitting. Thank you. In the meantime, I must speak with Sarah. My apology will not improve by keeping.”

Nodding, she led him to the nursery.

CHAPTER SIX

Catherine introduced Rockhurst to a wary Sarah, then remained long enough to see that he did not further upset the girl. But she need not have fretted. Unlike most gentlemen, he did not treat Sarah with condescension, instead addressing her as an equal. After admitting that his behavior in Exeter had been wrong, he apologized, explaining that even adults sometimes forgot their manners.

“Honorable people make amends for their errors,” he added. “But it is better to avoid making mistakes in the first place, for nothing can erase the memory.”

“That’s what Papa used to say.” Sarah smiled.

“Your father was a wise man.” He joined her at the schoolroom table, asking questions about her studies.

Catherine slipped out. He was as honorable as Harold, despite his high station. Most men claimed honor but applied the gentleman’s code only when it was convenient, choosing behavior expedient to the moment the rest of the time. The result was an arrogant selfishness that ignored anything bothersome – except for Jasper, who punished anything bothersome. But Rockhurst would atone for mistakes, uphold his vows, and protect anyone he cared for. Laura would be fortunate to catch his eye.

She shivered, then frowned. The hall was no colder than any other room this day, so her sudden chill must come from the fears that had surfaced last night. What would happen when he realized why William had invited him? Rockhurst was not one to accept treachery lightly, and inviting him here under false pretenses would seem treacherous. So would eliciting a vow he could not keep. Not only would he despise failure, but he would believe that she had schemed to tie him here so Laura could pressure him. Treachery, indeed. Having vowed his help, he could not honorably leave.

In that light, Laura’s behavior last night appeared more obnoxious than she had feared. Laura was a prattler in the best of times, but she had surpassed herself at dinner. Even William, who usually delighted in her gaiety, had been cringing by the time the meal ended.

She had tried to convince Laura to relax and behave normally, going to her room after Sarah fell asleep to chide her. The fact that Rockhurst had retired early was an ominous sign, but Laura had refused to listen.

“You are imagining things,” she’d claimed, brushing her carefully lightened hair. “A London gentleman is accustomed to dinner conversation and would think us wholly backward if we ate in silence.”

“I was not suggesting silence, Laura. But conversation requires two participants. You talked with hardly a pause to eat, giving him no opportunity to say a word.”

“He did not try. I suspect he is the silent sort who saves his breath for making pontifical remarks at his clubs.”

Catherine had nearly choked, for the description bore no resemblance to Rockhurst. While she could hardly claim to know him, the passionate man who had accosted her in Exeter could never be pontifical. Yet she could understand the misconception. Laura had not recognized the irritation beneath his brusque responses.

“If you think him cold, then ignore him,” she’d suggested. “There is no need to attract a man you cannot like.”

“But there is. William is right. Life has played me a dastardly trick, so I may never have this chance again. Rockhurst is titled, wealthy, and quite good-looking. His reputation as a caring man means he will treat his wife decently. And his lack of emotion will give me free rein to run the house as I choose. Where else can I find such a paragon?”