The Selfless Sister (27 page)

“Of course I am.”

He would try once more. After all, he would have some income, despite being a second son. “We have much to discuss,” he said, and took her hand.

She couldn’t help but stiffen, and pull her hand away. “Did we not settle everything when last we met?”

“Time passes,” he said. “Circumstances change. The obstacles we see as insurmountable one day can sometimes become obtainable the next.”

“Those are empty words, Lord Belington,” she coolly replied. “There is no future for us. You said so yourself.”

What could he say? He, who was only a second son. Apparently it made a difference.

She drew away from him. “I shall be leaving shortly. I plan to stay only long enough to assure myself that Aunt Pernelia will be all right.”

“But you don’t understand.”

“I understand only too well. Circumstances change, as you say.” She leveled a wintry gaze at him. “I’m not that easily won, sir, not by you or any man.”

Lady Perry appeared in bonnet and cloak. “After we see the attic, Douglas, where do you plan to go?”

“To Southfield, of course, where else?”

She gave him a quizzical smile. “Is that wise? I doubt Edgerton will readily confess.”

“I don’t expect him to.”

“In fact, he will be furious. There might be quite a scene.”

Douglas smiled. “After twenty-five years, a fine rouser of a scene is called for, don’t you think?”

Chapter
17

Dinner was over at Southfield. Aunt Pernelia, alone in the drawing room, looked up curiously as, without announcement, Lucinda and Lady Perry entered the drawing room, followed by—Pernelia gasped in surprise–-a man she never expected to see grace the halls of Southfield.

“I have brought Lord Belington to see you
.” Lucinda settled herself on the settee and indicated Lady Perry and Douglas do the same. “He has news for the Linleys.” She added gently, “Especially you, Aunt Pernelia. But I must warn you, this will be a shock. It concerns Marianne.”

At the sound of her long-lost daughter’s name, Pernelia drew in her breath. It was as if she already knew and was bracing herself. “Do go ahead, my dear,” she said, her voice leaden with resignation. She looked directly into Douglas’s eyes and said, “You have found my little girl, haven’t you?”

Douglas knelt before her and took both her hands. In a voice more gentle than Lucinda had ever heard from him before, he said, “She was in the attic at Ravensbrook Manor the whole time. Locked in an armoire. Apparently she had crawled in, I would guess to hide. Since there was no latch inside, she was trapped and couldn’t get out.” At Pernelia’s agonized cry, he continued, “If it’s any consolation, it appears she died peacefully, as if she had simply gone to sleep.”

Lucinda half expected her aunt to break into sobs, but after the one outcry, Pernelia bit her lip and silently bowed her head. Her shoulders shook, but otherwise, during the long pause that followed, Lucinda heard not a sound. When Pernelia raised her head again, the stoic expression on her face revealed her brave acceptance of the news. She was dry-eyed, and totally in control of herself. “How could this have happened?” she asked Douglas calmly.

He related the entire story, including the servants’ fear of the ghost of Sir Giles. “I should guess it was a culmination of events and circumstances–-carelessness, the fear of ghosts, the telling of lies...I don’t pretend to know all the answers, but I intend to find out.” Douglas gazed intently into Pernelia’s eyes. “Suffice to say, I apologize for all the Belingtons.”

Pernelia placed her palm on Douglas’s cheek. “But you were never to blame, and heaven knows, you and your family have suffered, too. She managed a sad little smile. “Now I won’t have to look in the woods anymore, will I?”

“Never again.”

She gripped his sleeve. “We must lay her to rest.”

“Of course.” Tenderly Douglas took her hand. “Will this bring you peace?”

“I...I...think so.” Her expression brightened. “Yes, I believe I will. After all these years
, Marianne has been found. She is at peace now, and so shall I be.”

Lucinda listened, fighting tears, feeling deeply grateful that her aunt not only accepted the news without breaking down, but had at last found peace. Douglas had used just the right touch
—so warm and tender. Her own father could not have done better.

Douglas stood. “We shall make arrangements immediately.”

“What is going on here?” came a deadly calm male voice from the doorway.

Deliberately taking his time, Douglas turned to acknowledge Edgerton, who, followed by Jane and Sarah, advanced to the center of the room and
regarded his visitor with ill-concealed outrage. “Good evening, Lord Linley,” Douglas said in a voice cold as a January night.

Lucinda could see that for once Edgerton, always so stony-faced, was hard-put to conceal his astonishment. He drew himself up and inquired, “You of all people dare to darken the door of Southfield?”

“We needn’t be that histrionic,” Douglas remarked affably. “I have come not only to impart news of Marianne to your mother, but also to discover some truths.”

Edgerton pointed dramatically toward the door. “I demand you leave immediately.”

Douglas appeared not in the least disturbed. In a matter-of-fact voice he said, “Marianne has been found in the attic at Ravensbrook. She was never lost in the woods.”

The effect of Douglas’s words was amazing. Lucinda watched, mesmerized, as a look of disbelief covered her cousin’s face, followed by the first hint of uncertainty.

Pernelia addressed her son, as well as Jane and Sarah. “She had become trapped in an armoire.” Her voice was strong, the vagueness gone. “She was there all this time.”

Jane gasped. Sarah, obviously in great distress, clutched her bosom and almost involuntarily cried out, “Oh, Edgerton, I knew the truth would out one day!”

“Hush, woman,” Edgerton snapped at his sister. He addressed his mother. “I am pleased they’ve finally found her, Mama. It appears that after the pony ride with Gregory, she must have come back to the house unnoticed by anyone.” He looked back around him, toward the door, as if he was planning a hasty retreat.

“Not quite so fast, Edgerton,” said Douglas. “You have some explaining to do.”

Edgerton’s mouth took on an unpleasant twist. “I most certainly am not obliged to explain anything to you, Belington.” He seemed to realize that for a moment he’d lost his perfect control and quickly resumed his usual impermeable expression. He couldn’t quite hide his perturbation, though. He appeared not to notice that he had started nervously licking his lips.

Pernelia chose that moment to push herself up with her cane and address her son in a regal tone that surprised everyone. “You most certainly do have some explaining to do, most especially to Lord Belington.” Her head held high, she took a challenging step forward and continued, “If not Lord Belington, then most certainly you owe an explanation to me.”

“I have nothing to say. I”—again Edgerton’s gaze shifted toward the door—”if you will excuse me, ladies, I have had enough of this conversation and shall take my leave.”

Quick as a cat, Douglas was at the door. He swiftly closed it, then leaned against it with his arms folded purposefully across his chest. “I think not, Edgerton,” he said softly. “Not until we hear your explanation.”

For the first time ever, Lucinda noticed beads of perspiration forming on her cousin’s forehead. He looked toward the door again, licking his lips, and seemed to consider chancing an escape, but obviously Douglas’s formidable figure dissuaded him.

Sarah came to stand beside her mother. To the astonishment of everyone, she announced, “Brother, it is time for the truth. You knew as well as I, this day had to come.”

Edgerton was now perspiring profusely. A muscle in his cheek started twitching. He was looking more and more like a trapped rat.

Jane came to stand next to Sarah. “Edgerton, I have always believed in you, and held the greatest respect for you, as a wife should, but I vow, if you don’t tell us the truth, I can never respect you again.”

Still leaning, arms crossed, against the door, Douglas added, “It looks as though you might as well tell us, old boy. You’ll not get out until you do.”

Edgerton glanced wildly around one more time. For the very first time, Lucinda saw fear in his eyes. “This is absolutely idiotic!” he cried.

Pernelia demanded, “Edgerton, did you or did you not tell a lie that day when you said you saw Gregory lead Marianne into the woods?’

Seeming to realize there was no escape, Edgerton regained control of himself, although he still was perspiring profusely. “I can see nothing wrong in what I did. I was, after all, only twelve years old.”

“Just tell us,” Pernelia stated resignedly.

“If you wish, Mama.” Edgerton gave a casual shrug that fooled no one. He opened his mouth to speak but had to clear his throat. He tried to speak again
—and had to clear his throat again. Only on his third attempt, did he finally begin. “It was late in the afternoon.”

“You mean the day of the Christmas party?”

“Yes, yes,” Edgerton answered impatiently. “It was after the feast when the adults were sitting around talking and the children were searching for something to do. Sarah, Marianne, and I were restless and bored. We decided to play a game of hide-and-seek, but where to hide? Suddenly I remembered the attic. I had never been up there. It had always been forbidden, whenever we came visiting, but I thought what a lark it would be if I could somehow get the key and we could play up there.”

“But what about the ghost?’ Lucinda asked. “Weren’t you afraid to play in the attic?”

Edgerton shrugged again. “Of course I’d heard of the ghost, but my curiosity about the attic outweighed my fear. I talked to the footman and through a bit of wheedling persuaded him to sneak the key off the housekeeper’s ring. The three of us ran immediately up the stairs to the attic and started to play hide-and-seek.”

Sarah interjected, “Not for long, though. It was spooky up there. I was scared. I soon came back down again.” She shifted an accusing gaze at her brother. “As did Edgerton.”

“I heard my parents calling me,” Edgerton went on smoothly. “They were planning on leaving shortly and wondered where we were.” Edgerton spread his palms. “Naturally I couldn’t tell them where we’d been. I simply said we had been outdoors, and—”

“I tried to tell them we’d been in the attic, only Edgerton told me to shush,” Sarah intervened.

Edgerton resumed, “I could hardly say where we’d been, now could I? Papa was a strict disciplinarian. He had always been in awe of The Belingtons and would have been appalled had he known his son had broken one of their precious rules. Had he found out what I’d done, I would have been severely punished.”

Sarah said, “Then Papa asked where was Marianne.”

Casting her a contemptuous glance, Edgerton continued, “How could I tell him that Marianne was likely still in the attic? It was then I remembered that earlier Gregory had been giving the children pony rides. So what else could I say except to tell them I’d seen Gregory lead her on a pony into the woods?”

“Edgerton threatened me if I told,” lamented Sarah.

Douglas said, “So the whole time the search was going on for Marianne, you knew where she was but refused to tell.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Edgerton sounded close to indignant. “I had no choice. And besides, I couldn’t be sure Marianne was still in the attic. For all I knew, she could actually have found her way downstairs and wandered into the woods.”

“Of course you knew she was in that attic,” cried Pernelia, the fists clenched to her sides indicating her rage.

“I was only twelve years old!”

In a voice filled with outrage, Pernelia continued, “I am hard put to control myself, Edgerton. You are my only son whom I have trusted all these years, despite your wastefulness, your airs, your petty tyrannies. I think of all those times I went searching in the woods for your little sister, and all the time you knew!” She flung her hands out in exasperation and cried, “Oh, it’s not to be borne! If you had spoken up, Marianne might have been found alive in that attic.”

Edgerton said coolly, “Really, Mama, don’t allow yourself to get carried away. I was not at fault here
—”

“Not at fault?” To everyone’s astonishment, it was Jane who had spoken, her voice near hoarse with unbridled anger. “I have known for some time, Edgerton Linley, you were coward and a bully. Now I’m adding heartless liar to the list. Do you realize the damage you’ve done? Not only to our family, but look what you’ve done to the Belingtons!”

Pernelia took up the charge. “Not only did you ruin Gregory Belington’s life, you’ve forced his family to live in a shadow all these years, and all because you weren’t man enough to admit your guilt.”

Edgerton seemed genuinely offended. “What nonsense! Perhaps...yes, I was a bit remiss in not telling the whole truth, but I hardly think I should be blamed for any of this.” His lip curled as he looked at Douglas. “Is that all, sir? If so, I do believe we have concluded this rather over-dramatized scene. I request you leave, sir, and allow this family to return to its normal routine.”

“I can’t believe I am hearing this, Edgerton,” Pernelia exclaimed. “I have always felt a mother’s love for you, despite your being an extremely difficult child to love, lacking as you were in the merest semblance of endearing qualities. I confess, there was many a time when I respected you more than loved you, yet I have always stood by you. But now I neither love nor respect you. The only feeling I have for you right now is one of pity.”

Edgerton glared at his mother. “Mama, I require neither your love nor your pity. It’s of no import whatsoever. All I want is for this household to get back to normal.”

Bolstered by every female in the household standing by her side, Pernelia seemed to gain strength as she went along. In an incredulous tone she asked, “My son, you have no idea what you have done, have you? When I think of all those years I searched the woods! You could have told me, but you never did.” She gave him a look that reflected her years of frustration, uncertainty, and anguish. “You are not twelve anymore, nor have you been for twenty-five years, so what is your excuse?”

“Really, Mama,” Edgerton said indulgently, “Marianne has been found
—we must put this tragedy behind us.”

“And continue as if nothing had happened?”

Edgerton answered equitably, “I do believe so, yes.”

“No, my son. This family will never be as it was.”

In the minutes that followed, Lucinda had to restrain herself from leaping up and cheering. It was as if a miracle had occurred. She wanted to cheer when Pernelia stoutly declared that she was sick of Edgerton’s tyrannical attitude and would tolerate it no longer. And when Edgerton, sneering his disbelief, asked his mother just how she proposed to accomplish such a feat, Pernelia, who had never before displayed an ounce of backbone, raised a cynical eyebrow and said, “I suggest you leave Southfield immediately because if you do not, you won’t get another penny from me.”