Tomorrow's Treasure (29 page)

“Why don't you go ahead and enjoy that jam cake and not worry about the raspberry filling?” she said with a sudden smile. “If it splashes, we will keep it our little secret.”

Evy laughed. “You knew just what I was worried about.” She liked Lady Camilla after all. “I am pleased you would ask me to have tea.”

“I have been wanting to speak with you for some time. Just the two of us, ever since I arrived at Rookswood from Capetown. The death of your uncle, the vicar, delayed matters. His death was unfortunate for you, wasn't it? I noticed at the vicarage that you appeared to love him a great deal, and your aunt, too.”

An odd observation. Was it not normal to love the only family one had?

“They raised me. I consider them my parents.”

“Yes. Assuredly. You would be so inclined. Yet they were not your parents by blood.”

Now why was she saying this? “Aunt Grace is my blood aunt. She was the older sister of my mother, Junia Varley”

“Was she?”

Evy looked up from her tea. There was something a little strange in the way she said those words.

“Aunt Grace and my mother? Oh yes, they were sisters by blood.”

The corners of Lady Camilla's mouth pinched together, making her look older than her actual years. She could not be over thirty-five, perhaps even younger.

“I wanted to talk to you before Sir Julien returns from London.”

Evy watched her, speechless, trying to gain her footing. So that was
why she had not seen Sir Julien at Rookswood for the last few days since Rogan left for school in London. Not that she knew much of what was happening in the house. She was mostly confined to the third floor and to their suite of rooms, though she could use the backstairs to go outdoors from the servants' entrance.

“Lady Camilla, I don't mean to be impolite, but why would you have a particular interest in talking to me?”

Camilla's eyes deepened to a violet hue. She leaned forward, her delicate hands clasping together so tightly that the fine hands turned white.

“You really do not suspect, do you?”

Evy tipped her head at the woman's amazed tone. Suspect what?

“They really have managed to keep everything from you. I should have known. When Sir Julien makes up his mind about something, there are few inside the family who would dare oppose him.”

The energy with which she spoke appeared to have drained her emotionally, for she leaned back again, or rather slumped. Her heart-shaped face was drawn and weary. “Then, for your sake, my dear, I shall be … delicate about this.”

Evy's fingers were trembling now, and her cup rattled on the gold-rimmed saucer. “What do you mean, Lady Brewster? Did you know my parents?”

“Oh yes indeed—I knew them. I knew your father
very
well. Or perhaps I should say, I thought I knew him. As for your mother, I saw her several times. You look very much like her—very little like your father. You have her traits, too, her confidence, her spirit—”

Suddenly Camilla went rigid against the back of the chair, and her face drained of whatever color it had possessed. Her action so startled Evy that she too froze. A door clicked shut, and Evy spun to find Sir Julien Bley standing beside the door to a room she had not noticed.

Evy's fingers tightened on the cup. He appeared just as forbidding as he had in Henry Chantry's rooms. This time he looked angry and intimidating. Perhaps the black patch that covered his eye gave him such a sinister air. But as he stared coldly from that one pale eye at Lady Camilla, Evy decided that the dangerous air was more than
mere impression. It was quite certainly reality when his will was thwarted.

And though Evy could not understand why, it was clear that Camilla Brewster was doing just that.

“Sir Julien.” Lady Camilla's breathy, thin tone set Evy's nerves even more on edge. Was the woman afraid of Sir Julien? Lady Camilla leaned forward in the wide chair, both hands clutching the armrests tightly. “I thought—”

“I know what you thought, Camilla. I have not yet left for London, as you can see. However, I have decided to take you with me when I do. You can wait in the hotel while I have my meeting with the colonial office. You will be going back to Cape House on a ship departing on Thursday. With Anthony ill and anxiously awaiting your cherished presence, I fear we cannot disappoint him.”

Camilla dampened her lips and looked ill.

Evy's heart was pounding so hard that she couldn't breathe. The moment was horrid. She wanted to run out of the room, but her need to understand outweighed her fear.

She set her teacup on the table and stood to her feet, her knees shaking. Sir Julien's good eye swerved and pinned her to the spot.

“So you are Evy.”

She tilted her chin and met his hard gaze.
There is no cause to be so afraid. Why should I be?
“That is my name, sir. I was just having tea with Lady Brewster.”

His mouth quirked. “So I notice.”

“She was about to tell me what she knew about my parents in South Africa.”

Any faint amusement vanished. “I assure you, my ailing daughter-in-law can tell you nothing about Dr. and Mrs. Varley. Nothing that in the least will help you get on with your growing up. However, your Aunt Grace tells me you wish to attend music school in London when you are older.”

“Yes, With all my heart.” Now why was he asking her this? It seemed rather odd.

“You think you are good with music, do you?”

“Yes!”

The quirk showed again. “You have spunk anyway.”

“But Parkridge Music Academy is out of the question since my uncle died.”

Sir Julien did not respond. Evy shifted under that intense gaze and stole a glance at Lady Camilla. She was still slumped in the chair, defeat on her delicate features. Evy's heart went out to her in sympathy. Sir Julien could be a bully if people let him.

“If you will excuse me … My English class is about to commence.” Evy turned to Lady Camilla, who was gazing at Julien. “Lady Brewster, thank you for the tea. Perhaps we can resume our conversation later—”

“I am certain Lady Brewster will be much too occupied packing her trunk for the voyage.”

Evy inclined her head to Sir Julien. What could she say? What
dare
she say to such an authoritative man? She turned away and moved toward the door, but he came up, surprising her.

“One moment.”

She looked at him, her hand hovering over the doorknob. He was unsmiling, yet Evy thought his rugged, dark features had softened ever so slightly. He reached out and cupped her chin, and she didn't let herself flinch as he lifted her face toward the light coming in from the window. His sharp eye examined her features, and there was no apology in his gaze or in the firm grip of his lean hand. He looked at her eyes, her hair, the line of her jaw and her throat.

Evy could not move.

After a moment his hand fell away and she heard a slight sigh escape his lips. “Yes.”

There was nothing in that simple word or his weary tone that she could understand. Evy stepped back. How could he humiliate her this way, studying her like some colt being considered for purchase? And how could he be so mean to Lady Camilla?

“Why did you do that, sir? What did you expect to see?”

“What did I expect to see?”

The sound of rushing footsteps echoed in the outer hall, and the door opened. Aunt Grace stood there, out of breath. Seeing Sir Julien, she stopped abruptly. They looked at one another in silence, then Aunt Grace looked over at Lady Camilla. Finally her gaze shifted to Evy.

“You should not have left the schoolroom without permission.”

“It is my fault.” Evy turned with a start to look at Lady Camilla. Her voice was soft and childlike. “I wanted her to have tea with me.”

“You need concern yourself no further, Mrs. Havering,” Sir Julien asserted. “Lady Brewster and I are leaving for London as soon as she is packed. We will be on our way home to Capetown.”

Aunt Grace had regained her studious composure. She nodded and looked at Evy. “Miss Arcilla is waiting for you in the schoolroom.”

Evy's hands were clenched at her sides. “But—”

“Evy?”

She knew that quiet, determined tone well. There was no use in arguing. “Yes, Aunt.” She glanced toward Lady Camilla. For a moment Evy thought she saw an apology in the woman's eyes before she looked away.

“Good-bye, Lady Brewster.” Evy turned and saw Sir Julien's heedful gaze. She walked past her aunt into the great hall. She had started for the stairway when she noticed Lizzie dusting a spotless polished table. Mrs. Wetherly was nowhere in sight. Evy ignored Lizzie and rushed up the stairs to the third floor schoolroom.

Arcilla, waiting at the window, rushed at her as she entered. She must have wondered at Aunt Grace's hasty departure from the classroom. She looked as curious as Lizzie had.

“What happened? When Mrs. Wetherly told your aunt you were having tea with Camilla, she dropped everything and rushed downstairs as though the house were on fire. What did Camilla tell you?”

“Sir Julien arrived and interrupted everything. Why is Lady Camilla so afraid of him?”

“Isn't everyone?” She shuddered. “And that eye patch is hideous! And the way he stares at you with that one pale eye—it makes me feel like a butterfly pinned to the wall.”

“But why is Lady Camilla so intimidated? She is married to his nephew, the man he adopted as a son. I would think they should all get along quite well.”

“You heard Rogan before he left for London. Uncle Julien manages the entire family dynasty. Almost like a king with his realm of subjects. Never mind him … What did Camilla want with
you?
And why was your aunt so upset that you were alone with her?”

That was exactly what Evy wanted to know, but to share her bewilderment with Arcilla now would likely add fire to the matter. No, she must talk to Aunt Grace alone first.

When Aunt Grace came into the schoolroom and went around to her desk, Evy nearly went limp with relief. Arcilla watched Evy's aunt closely as well, and Evy was sure the girl was stymied when Aunt Grace sat down with a calm repose in her hard-backed chair. She lifted the spectacles from the silver chain that hung about her neck and placed them on the bridge of her nose. And then, as though nothing unusual had occurred, she reopened her big textbook.

“Open your workbooks to page ten, please. We shall be a little late with closing our lessons today.”

Arcilla groaned. Evy avoided her aunt's eyes. If only she could so easily avoid the questions filling her mind, as though they were burned there with a branding iron.

After school was over, Aunt Grace came to speak with Evy.

“Let's walk in the garden. Better bring our wraps, there's a chill wind blowing.”

They went down by the backstairs and out into the garden. The wind rushed through the treetops and sent the clouds scuttling across the sky. Rain threatened them as they strolled through one of the narrow rocky paths deeper into the huge garden. The green willows spread their lacy branches and drooped toward the clipped grassland, reaching out like the long arms of an octopus.

“You must have wondered why I was worried when you were having tea with Lady Camilla.”

“What am I to think? It was all so strange and mysterious. And Sir
Julien—the way he looked at me. I felt like a specimen on display. Why is he insisting Lady Camilla leave with him this afternoon? I thought she was going to stay and live at Rookswood.”

“So did I. She must have changed her mind. Her husband, I hear, is ill and needs her to return to Capetown. That must be another reason Sir Julien is concerned.”

“He treats her like a prisoner.”

Aunt Grace walked along, a small frown pinching her brow, her meditative gaze on the rocky path at her feet. Unlike Lady Camilla, Aunt Grace wore sturdy booted shoes.

“You might as well know the unpleasant truth, Evy.”

Her heart pounded. Was she at last to understand all the mysteries plaguing her?

“Camilla Brewster is not well. I've learned that she is mentally ill. In the beginning she seemed quite normal, but after suffering through a stillbirth, she has not been able to recover emotionally. Afterward she desperately wanted a child, but the attending physician spoke privately to Anthony and Sir Julien about not taking the risk—a risk even to herself. Since then she has run away from Cape House several times since her marriage to Anthony Brewster.”

Evy did not speak for a moment. Lady Camilla unstable? But she had appeared quite sane. She finally managed a question. “A risk to herself?”

“Yes. And there was the possibility of mental deficiencies in the children, as well. Anthony thought it best not to attempt having children again, which brought tension between them because Camilla would not accept such a thing. She was eventually placed under medical supervision at Cape House. And to make matters worse, while Sir Julien was away in Germany, she arrived here in England, looking forward to being with Honoria, only to receive the sorry news of her death. So it's really no wonder Julien thinks it best to take her back when he returns home to South Africa.”

Evy paused by the holly bushes, still thick with red berries. She frowned as she pulled some off and tossed them. “I feel sorry for her.
And why was she especially interested in me, Aunt? I could see that she was. I'm sure she was about to reveal something personal when Sir Julien came in and stopped her. His very presence intimidated her.”

Grace sighed. “I suppose it has to do with a story I've heard—about a scandal in the family at Cape House. After you hear it you will also understand why it would not have been wise for me to discuss it with you sooner. It must be kept in strictest confidence, as such stories, regardless of their lack of veracity, can ruin reputations as well as important relationships.

“The tale has to do with Camilla's husband, Anthony Brewster. There was talk of a baby. Sir Julien fears she has worked herself into a stressful emotional state after convincing herself that Anthony is the father and—that you could be the child.”