The Selfless Sister (26 page)

“Let us think a minute,” answered Lady Perry. She snuffed out the candles, set them down, shaking her head in distress. “Oh, how horrible! That poor little girl. Lying there all these years while no one thought to look for her here. Now it’s clear she did not go into the woods with Gregory.”

“It’s also clear someone lied,” Lucinda declared.

Lady Perry’s face suffused with anger. “And that someone was Edgerton.”

Lucinda felt as if she were reeling. Even though she had suspected the remains of Marianne might be found in the attic, now that she’d actually discovered them she was shocked beyond belief, and suddenly confronted with more than one dilemma. “How do we begin, Felicia? There’s so much to do. We must tell Aunt Pernelia. That poor woman. Such irony! All those years she searched the woods, and all the while Marianne was here, in this attic. And think of Douglas and Alex, and their parents, too, living in the shadow of the tragedy when all the time...” she shook her head, unable to go on.

“And think of Gregory,” Lady Perry said, and bitterly went on, “To think, he died, never knowing that the day would come when he would be proved innocent.”

It was at that moment Lucinda realized she could no longer keep the secret about Gregory. Dishonorable or not, it would be heartless to keep Lady Perry in the dark a minute longer. “Felicia, as if you haven’t already had one shock today, I must give you another.”

“Go right ahead,” Lady Perry answered. “When you are my age you’ll find you’re much less shockable.”

Lucinda plunged on. “Gregory did not commit suicide. He’s still alive.”

Lady Perry stared at her, wide-eyed. “Explain, Lucinda,” she said in a suffocated whisper.

Nothing would do now but the complete truth. “I am so sorry, I should have told you sooner but I assumed that Lord Belington had told me in confidence. He revealed to me that Gregory’s gunshot wound was only an accident, and not fatal, and that he has been alive all these years, living in the south of France.”

“I see,” calmly replied Lady Perry. Too calmly. As if her knees were weak, she sank to an ancient carved bench and dropped her head in her hands. When she looked up again, it was obvious she was struggling to regain her composure, but Lucinda could tell she was deeply shaken by the news. Finally she collected herself enough to say, “Forgive me, I cannot speak. I am simply overjoyed at the thought that Gregory might come back.”

But twenty-five years was an awfully long time, thought Lucinda. What if Gregory had married in the meantime? She held her tongue. Such a question was hardly appropriate at this time.

Lady Perry must have read her mind. “Don’t think me a fool. I am keenly aware that Gregory might have married by now, or at least formed some attachment. After all, it’s been twenty-five years and it would be a wonder if he hasn’t, considering what a virile man he was–“ she smiled, as if remembering “—and probably still is. But even so, I would give anything in the world just to see him once more before I die.” A thought struck her. “But do you realize what will happen if Gregory comes back? He’s the first son, not Douglas. Ravensbrook Manor by rights belongs to him.” Her face fell. “Oh, dear, I had not thought. You care for Douglas, don’t you?”

“Right now I don’t know how I feel
.”

“There’s much to do,” Lady Perry said, apparently deciding it was best to let the matter of Douglas drop. “Do you realize a man was exiled, almost for a lifetime because he was falsely accused?”

“Edgerton is the one responsible for this.” Lucinda pronounced his name with contempt. “Why did he lie?”

“There are still a few mysteries to solve.” Lady Perry took Lucinda’s arm. “Now we’ve found the truth, and all because of you. I owe you a lifetime of gratitude.”

“My deepest thanks, but all I can think of now is what we should do next.”

Lady Perry paused to think. “Douglas must be informed, as well as Gregory. Alex, too, and of course Pernelia.”

Lucinda began, “We must hasten—”

“There’s no need to rush,” said Lady Perry. “That poor little girl has been in that armoire for twenty-five years. A few days more won’t matter a bit. And meanwhile...”

Lucinda interrupted with feeling, “Meanwhile we shall decide just how we are going to deal with Cousin Edgerton. That man has caused more heartbreak and sorrow than anyone I have ever known on this earth. It’s time he paid for his sins.”

“I shall send Douglas a message, post-haste,” said Lady Perry. “I shall tell him to come directly to my home. Then I shall send for you, Lucinda. Together we shall give him the news.”

* * *

Two days passed. Lucinda waited with increasing agitation until she could stand the wait no longer and went to visit Lady Perry.

“It’s too early to hear from him yet, Lucinda,” said Lady Perry as they sat in her drawing room.

Lucinda confessed, “Every day I feel increasingly guilty that I haven’t told Pernelia. I pray she’ll take the news well, but she’s so fragile I fear she’ll fall apart.”

“Pernelia is sure to be devastated at the manner of Marianne’s death,” Lady Perry replied, “but still, don’t you think she’ll be vastly relieved? I do. Just think, she won’t feel compelled to search the woods anymore.”

“With all my heart I hope you’re right. Meantime, I’m finding it difficult to maintain a polite attitude with Edgerton.” “He’ll pay soon enough,” Lady Perry said briskly. “All will be well as soon as Douglas arrives.” She slanted Lucinda a meaningful gaze. “I suspect you’ll be pleased.”

“We...a few things went on that I haven’t told you about.”

“Then surely you’ll be happy to see him again.”

Lucinda shook her head vigorously. “Seeing Douglas again will be akin to throwing salt in an open wound. I do like him—in fact, I confess, I love him, but he rejected me with his blather about honor and not wanting to expose me to the family tragedy.”

“But don’t you think he was simply being noble?”

“He can be as noble as he likes, I don’t care. How could he have withdrawn so easily if he really cared for me? After all, I have my pride. If you think I’m anticipating that glorious moment when Douglas realizes his family is no longer in disgrace and now he can marry me, you’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry to hear you say that
.”

“All I know is I shall never come crawling to him like some sort of worm. I’ve had time to think. I’ve made my plans. As soon as all this business of the tragedy is taken care of, I am going home.”

“To stay?” When Lucinda nodded yes, Lady Perry went on, “I don’t blame you, although I shall miss you terribly. I hate to say it, but my circle of friends—all the lofty ton–-is made up of people who are mainly occupied with themselves. But you? You’ve been a ray of sunshine in my life.” She paused a moment. “What of the dowry that Pernelia was going to give you if you stayed a year?”

“I won’t be receiving it, will I? But I really don’t care. Who needs a husband? I just want to be home in my own small, safe little world, with Mama and Papa, my sisters visiting from time to time, my sketching and my birds.”

“Oh, Lucinda...” Lady Perry looked as if she was about to launch into a long lecture when her butler intervened.

“You have another guest, Your Ladyship. Lord Belington has arrived.”

Lady Perry cast a puzzled glance at Lucinda. “But he could not possibly have received my note in this short a time.”

* * *

After his talk with Rose, Douglas felt the urgent need to return home as soon as possible and see Lucinda. When he’d arrived at Ravensbrook Manor, Carter was bursting with a tale about the two uninvited female visitors who, for some unfathomable reason, searched the attic, Sir Giles’s ghost, or no. Now, as Douglas strode into Lady Perry’s drawing room, Douglas felt a jolt as he recognized not only Lady Perry, but Lucinda.

He recovered swiftly
. Suave as ever, he gave them both a bow and said smoothly, “Lady Perry...Miss Linley, how pleasant to see you again.” Underneath, he was quite shaken. How beautiful Lucinda looked sitting there, as beautiful a woman he had ever seen. A tug deep within him reminded him how much he wanted her. The old sadness grabbed at his heart again.

Lady Perry rose to greet him. “Do sit down, Douglas. I sent you an urgent message two days ago, but how you could have received it in this short a time is beyond me.”

He replied, “I came home because of other matters, but when my butler informed me of yours and Miss Linley’s visit to the attic I hastened here. I must confess, I’m baffled. What on earth were you searching for in my attic?”

“I shouldn’t wonder you’re perplexed,” answered Lady Perry. “And I imagine you are wondering what on earth prompted me to write such an urgent message. Well”
—she shifted a quick look at Lucinda—“it’s fortunate Miss Linley is here. I want her be the one to tell you.”

Douglas seated himself. “I am all ears,” he told Lucinda, avidly curious as to what on earth she would say.

Lucinda found herself awash in mixed feelings. On the one hand, she wanted to jump up—dance a jig—shout from the housetop that Gregory, and thus the Belingtons, were innocent of all wrong-doing. But on the other hand... She thought of the horror of that poor little girl trapped in the armoire, not found all those years. Since the latter lay so heavily on her mind, she said softly, without a trace of exaltation, “Prepare yourself for a shock, Lord Belington...”

Lucinda told all, from Pitney’s admission that the attic had not been searched, to their finding Marianne in the armoire. When she finished, Douglas sat stunned and without words until he finally managed, “So let me see if I have the straight of it. Marianne was in the attic the whole time?”

“She must have been,” Lucinda answered, “and all because the servants said they searched the attic when they had not.”

Douglas shook his head in disbelief. “When Alex and I were boys we never went up there for the very same reason the servants would not
—we were afraid of the ghost.”

“It seems Sir Giles has indeed wreaked his vengeance against the Belingtons,” Lady Perry said with irony. “We have all been victims, whether we believed in the ghost or not.”

A grim thought struck Douglas. “Edgerton must have been lying.”

“Of course he was.”

“Have you confronted him?”

“We were waiting for you. We have done nothing. I haven’t even told my aunt that Marianne has been found.”

“Good God!” As the realization of Edgerton’s perfidy struck, Douglas felt himself so outraged he could hardly contain himself. “Why on earth did he tell such a lie?”

“He was only a child at the time,” said Lucinda.

“Well, he’s not a child now, is he?” Full of purpose, Douglas rose to his feet.

“What are you planning?” asked Lady Perry.

“First I must see for myself. We shall go immediately to Ravensbrook Manor where I trust you will show me the child’s remains. That is...” he addressed Lady Perry “...if it won’t be too difficult for you to view them again?”

“Of course not, Douglas.”

“And you, Miss Linley? What an ordeal that must have been. You need not come along if—”

“Of course I shall come.”

Lady Perry stood quickly. “I shall just be a moment.” As she left the room, she said over her shoulder, “Douglas, you owe this all to Lucinda. If it had not been for her, we would never have found Marianne.”

They were alone. Eagerly Douglas came to sit next to her on the settee. “So you’re the one who found her.” He sat back amazed. “Do you realize what this means?”

“Of course I do.”

He plunged ahead. “It means so many things I can hardly begin to grasp the significance of it all. My family name will be cleared. The shadow that has hung over Ravensbrook all my life is at long last gone.” A cry of relief broke from his lips. “Edgerton’s vendetta against the Belingtons is over. It means Gregory can come back. It means...” He paused, his heart sinking as he realized what he’d known all along. “My title is gone. I’m a second son.”

It was all Lucinda could do not to reach out her arms to him. What did she care if he was the second son? What did she care if he was titled? But she could not let him know. So strange, what had happened to her. She knew she loved him, but ever since this ruggedly handsome man with the exceedingly commanding presence had entered the room, she feared she would lose what remained of her pride and make a complete fool of herself. True, she had done him a great service by clearing his name, but in the process had she not displayed a certain bold, unladylike behavior? Now, although she hadn’t planned it, her dignity had taken over. What was he thinking? Had he forgotten that last time they met he had rejected her? She recalled that day they first met in the woods when he’d plunged through the bushes, gun in hand. Even then, she’d been intrigued by his directness, and how overpoweringly masculine he was. Not like Papa at all, or so she had thought, but now she knew he was. And she loved him! It was just...she had too much pride to forget how he had rejected her. She could simply not throw herself at him.

Douglas was no fool. He knew himself well, and recognized that even though he had just told her he was now a second son, he longed for her to tell him it didn’t matter. But she did not, and as much as he wanted to take her in his arms, there was something in her expression, a kind of wariness, that forewarned him not to try. He curbed his enthusiasm and remarked in a voice more contained, “I trust you, too, are pleased.” He thought of little Marianne and guardedly added, “As much as the sad circumstances allow.”