The Outcast's Redemption (The Infamous Arrandales) (16 page)

She put her hands to her head, pushing her fingers against her temples.

‘You misunderstand me,’ she said slowly. ‘I do not
want
him to arouse me in that way. I had hoped to share those appetites once, with Henry, my first, my only love, but, but
carnal
desires have no place in my life now.’

He could not allow that, not when she had been in his arms, matching him kiss for kiss.

‘Well, they
should
have a place!’ He reached out and caught her hands. ‘Desire is not a sin, Grace, it is natural and you should not marry a man you do not desire.’

‘No!’ She backed away from him, crossing her arms over her breast. ‘Henry and I loved each other, we longed for the day when we could consummate our love and when I lost him it was unbearable.’

‘How old were you when he died? Eighteen, nineteen?’

She sank down on the edge of the bed, hunched over as if in pain.

‘I was nineteen. We were very much in love. We were made for one another. I knew it, even though we had known each other for less than two years. Can you understand that?’

‘Yes, I can.’ He knew now it was possible to fall in love in less than two months.

‘Henry was my life,’ she said simply. ‘When he was taken, a part of me died, too.’

‘But
only
a part of you,’ he said. ‘For the past five years you have been afraid to live. You have been afraid to allow yourself to
feel
anything. Even your engagement to Braddenfield is a safe and sensible choice.’

‘You make it sound like a crime.’

‘It is, when you could do so much more with your life.’

‘How dare you criticise me,’ she retorted, stung. ‘I was very happy, until I met you!’

‘If I have made you feel again then I cannot regret it, Grace. Oh, I know I am not the right man for you, I have lived for too long with the devil at my shoulder, but there are other men, good men, who would love you and make you happy, if you would give them a chance. You are too young to bury yourself away in a loveless marriage. You should be out in the world, living. Loving.’

‘I do not
want
that!’

Her anguished cry silenced him.

She dragged the back of her hand across her eyes.

‘When you came into my life I knew you were dangerous, someone even said you walk with the devil, but I did not want to believe it. Papa was keen to help and I, well, I thought a little adventure might be enjoyable, but it isn’t. Not at all. It has cut up my peace most horribly, not least because I know I will not be able to tell Loftus and one should not have secrets from one’s fiancé. I shall have to live out my life with that on my conscience, but I am promised to Loftus and I shall stand by my vow. I
want
to marry him. I shall be situated near my father and my future will be secure. That will please Papa.’

‘And will it please you, too?’

‘Yes.’ She took out her handkerchief to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. ‘I want a safe, quiet existence. I beg your pardon if my actions just now made you think otherwise, but that part of my life is buried with Henry.’ She raised her solemn, resolute gaze to his. ‘Henry was a paragon of goodness. He is the yardstick by which I measure all other men.’

Wolf had always known she was too good for him and now she had told him that her previous love was a saint. Very few men would match up to such a standard and certainly not an Arrandale.

He sighed. ‘If I have caused you unhappiness I am very sorry for it and I beg your forgiveness. Believe me, you have done nothing for which you need reproach yourself. Go home and forget me, Miss Duncombe.’

Grace felt as drained and empty as the basket Wolf pushed into her hands. He hammered on the door and shouted for the warder. As the key grated in the lock she rose and he reached out to pull the veil over her face.

‘Thank you for your kindness, ma’am, and allow me to wish you every happiness.’

Without a word Grace left the cell and made her way up the stairs. When she reached the office her hand was shaking so much she could barely write her name to sign out. Janet was waiting in the carriage, but although Grace could respond calmly to her anxious enquiries she kept her veil down, knowing that tears were not far away.

Grace had never told anyone how she had felt about Henry Hodges, the unfulfilled cravings and desires that had haunted her dreams. She had never even told Henry, when he was alive. She had always assumed he felt the same, but now she wondered. Henry’s most daring move had been to kiss her cheek and when, on one occasion, she had tried to put her arms about him he had held her off, saying gently that there would be time for all that once they were married. In fact, there was no time at all. Within the month he was dead. A tear slipped down her cheek. She had loved Henry so much. No one could take his place. No one, least of all a man like Wolf Arrandale.

All the way to Hans Place Grace wondered what she should do. To stay away from Wolf, to abandon him to his fate, seemed like the coward’s way out. She had thrown herself at him in a most shameful way and she must now atone for it. Wolf had been surprised into reacting, but
he
was the one who had pushed her away. And he had told her quite plainly that he was not the man for her, so it was not as if her lustful feelings were reciprocated. She must show him and the world that she was strong and compassionate, a suitable wife for a magistrate. Wolf might not want her in
that
way, but her visits would help to break up the long days of his incarceration. She would be doing her duty. Dear Henry had died doing his.

And what she felt for Wolf Arrandale would fade. Did not Papa say often and often,
‘Blessed is the man that endureth temptation?’
She must face this temptation and overcome it.

She quelled the tiny, traitorous voice that suggested that she
wanted
to see Wolf, that the tug of attraction was too great to resist.

* * *

By morning Grace had convinced herself that she was making too much of what had happened at the prison. She had been overcome by the horrors of Wolf’s situation and had wanted to comfort him, nothing more. Good heavens, if Daniel could walk into a lion’s den and survive overnight, surely she could spend an hour visiting an innocent man in his prison cell.

* * *

Mrs Graham looked up from her breakfast to smile as Grace came in.

‘What an energetic girl you are, my love,’ she greeted her niece. ‘I have only just left my room and you have already taken Nelson for his morning walk.’

‘Then we may break our fast together, ma’am,’ Grace replied, sitting down at the table.

‘And I am very glad to see you up and about,’ remarked Aunt Eliza, as Jenner filled their coffee cups. ‘You were so quiet at dinner last night I was afraid you might have caught something in that dreadful gaol.’

‘No, no, I am quite well,’ Grace reassured her. ‘I was merely troubled yesterday.’

‘And no wonder,’ said Aunt Eliza. ‘Mr Arrandale’s plight is indeed very worrying. I was horrified when you told me he had been locked up for the murder of that poor woman. I am as convinced as you are that he is innocent, but thankfully he has his brother to support him now, to say nothing of the rest of the Arrandale relations, so there can be no need for you to go to that horrid prison again.’

Grace helped herself to a bread roll. ‘On the contrary, I intend to visit Mr Arrandale again today.’

‘My dear girl, you cannot be serious!’

‘Never more so,’ she replied, not looking up. ‘As Papa’s daughter I must help those in need.’

‘But you said yourself Mr Arrandale has funds enough to pay for his comforts; surely one visit to him is enough. Heavens, my love, you ransacked my library to find works he might enjoy. I will not say I begrudge him the books—after all they have been sitting on the shelves since Mr Graham died and
I
shall never read them—but surely there can be no need for you to go back again.’

‘If Papa were here it is what he would do.’ Grace felt the colour heating her cheeks as those disturbing doubts returned. Of course she did not
want
to see Wolf. Indeed, she would be far more comfortable if she could put him right out of her head, but how could she do that, when the shadow of the gallows hung over him?

She said aloud, ‘My mind is made up, Aunt Eliza, I shall visit Mr Arrandale every day while he remains in prison. It is my Christian duty.’

‘Well, you are of age and I cannot stop you. Although what your fiancé will say I am sure I do not know.’

Grace silently finished her breakfast. She would have to tell Loftus something of her activities in London and he might even decide to withdraw his offer of marriage. But that was for the future. For now, she could not abandon Wolf Arrandale, whatever it cost her.

* * *

Richard Arrandale was to see his brother every morning, so Grace timed her visit for later in the day. She took her maid, but Janet was reluctant to enter the prison and Grace left her in the carriage while she went in alone to see Wolf. She arrived to find Kennet with his master, playing backgammon. They both rose at her entry and although Wolf scowled and told her she should not have come, the glow in his eyes gave the lie. There was an awkward moment of silence. The valet coughed and muttered that perhaps he should go.

‘Yes—no,’ said Wolf. ‘What do you say, Miss Duncombe, would you prefer Kennet to stay?’ When she shook her head he waved a hand towards his man. ‘Come back in an hour. No, make it a little longer.’

Wolf had not taken his eyes off her and Grace struggled to keep still under his scrutiny.

I can do this,
she told herself.
It is no different from visiting any of Papa’s needy parishioners.

When they were alone he said again, ‘You should not have come.’

‘My father always asks after you in his letters.’

It was a poor enough excuse, but Wolf nodded.

‘Very well, then, Miss Duncombe. Will you not sit down?’

* * *

The days fell into a pattern. Grace was at her aunt’s disposal each morning, but every afternoon she made her way to Horsemonger Lane. Kennet was often in attendance, but as soon as Grace arrived he would excuse himself and leave them alone to talk. Grace had no fears for her safety, Wolf kept as much distance as possible between them during her visits. He might walk with the devil, but nothing could have exceeded his civility towards her.

The guards grew accustomed to Grace’s visits and soon gave no more than a cursory glance at her basket filled with books and a few little delicacies to augment the meals Kennet brought in from the local tavern. She also included extra pastries for the guards, who fell upon them with relish and it earned her a smile and a cheerful word from the warders as they escorted her to the prisoner.

Grace knew Richard was trying to build a case for his brother’s defence, but by tacit agreement she and Wolf never spoke of it. Instead they talked of unexceptional subjects such as books and art and the latest reports from the newspapers that Kennet brought for his master every day.

After an hour, or sometimes a little more, Grace would take her leave, pulling down her veil to hide the despair that choked her every time she left Wolf’s cell. Once a rogue tear escaped and splashed on to the page when she was signing out and after that the officer in charge waved her away, saying with gruff kindness that they could not have her spoiling their visitor register and he would sign her out in future.

* * *

Grace hoped that the parting would grow easier as the days went by, but at the end of the first week she felt more desolate than ever. She returned to Hans Place, hoping to slip upstairs unnoticed, but her aunt was waiting in the hall and asked her to step into the morning room.

‘My love,’ she said, as they sat down together on the sofa. ‘Another letter has arrived for you, from Hindlesham Manor. No doubt your fiancé is anxious to hurry your return.’

‘Quite possibly.’ Grace knew she must leave London very soon, but the hours she spent with Wolf were too precious and she could not give them up. Not yet. Under her aunt’s watchful eye she broke the seal on the letter and opened it.

‘Loftus sends his regards to you, Aunt,’ she said, reading quickly. ‘And he writes to tell me that the reception for Mrs Braddenfield’s birthday went off very well.’

‘You missed his mother’s birthday?’ Aunt Eliza put a hand on her knee. ‘Grace, my love, let me speak plainly. You should have been at Hindlesham for such an event.’

‘Loftus quite understands that I have not yet finished my business in London. If we were married it would be different.’ Grace glanced again at the letter. ‘Besides, he tells me Claire Oswald arranged everything perfectly. Indeed, as his mama’s companion she was by far the best person to do so.’

Aunt Eliza gave a little tut of exasperation.

‘My love, tell me honestly, do you still mean to marry Sir Loftus? It is not kind of you to keep him waiting, you know, if you mean to jilt him.’

‘Jilt him?’ The letter slid from Grace’s fingers and she bent to retrieve it. ‘Good gracious, Aunt, why should I do such a thing?’

‘Because you are showing more interest in visiting a prison than seeing your fiancé.’

‘I...I want to help Wolf, that is all.’

Aunt Eliza’s brows rose. ‘So it is Wolf now. You are mighty friendly with that young man, Grace.’

‘The injustice of his situation shocks me. Papa urged me to support him and I have done so.’ She added, as much to convince herself as her aunt, ‘It is not friendship or anything warmer that draws me to the prison, but duty.’

‘Well, I am relieved to hear it,’ said Aunt Eliza. ‘I was afraid you were in danger of throwing away your chance of lasting happiness for a man who is not free, and who, barring a miracle, is like to hang before the year is out.’

* * *

Aunt Eliza’s words haunted Grace as she made her way to Horsemonger Lane the following day. She lifted her eyes to the prison roof and a little shiver of foreboding ran through her as she stared at the scaffold. The feeling of disquiet grew even stronger when she found Richard with his brother, and looking grim. She stopped in the doorway, clutching her basket before her, until Wolf invited her to come in.