The Earl's Revenge (28 page)

For the first time in her life, the freedom she had struggled to achieve hung heavy, dragging her into deep melancholy that had little chance to dissipate. Must she live alone in order to remain free? Or might freedom be possible within the framework of marriage? Never having considered the idea, she had no answers.

She had reached the fringes of the moor and was on her way back to the grounds when she overheard two ladies talking on the other side of a hedge. Before she could make her presence known, their words stopped her in her tracks.

“Don’t turn missish on me, Lucinda!” snapped Lady Means. “You know we cannot afford a Season for you. The townhouse went on sale last week. If it does not realize enough to come about, we may have to sell the Grange.”

“But why must I attach Lord Bridgeport?” wailed Miss Throckmorton. “He is too old! And he pays me not the slightest attention. Reggie is much more interesting. And he loves me!”

“You will forget such fustian this minute! Mr. Taylor is merely toying with you. At most, he feels a passing infatuation, one of many he will experience before he settles down. Besides, the lad is constantly outrunning the constables and has no real prospects.”

“You wrong him!” the girl sobbed. “He enjoys a comfortable income and will one day inherit his father’s estate. In the meantime there are other family properties. And he is Carrington’s favorite.”

“Enough, Lucinda. Forget Taylor. Even if every word is true, he is not wealthy. You would not set foot in London until your children are grown, and you could never repay us for taking you in. Bridgeport will make you a perfect husband. If it wasn’t for that overbearing Mrs. Woodleigh, he would have offered for you already. He has always favored young innocents like yourself. He is titled, rich as Golden Ball, and would certainly assist your family once you are wed.”

“But what about the curse? I don’t want to die.”

“Idiot! There is nothing to that old rumor. It was probably made up out of whole cloth by someone bearing him a grudge – most likely a spurned candidate for his hand. Now follow my plan exactly, and you will find yourself betrothed before nightfall.”

The two headed toward the house. Elaine could no longer make out Lady Means’s low-voiced instructions, but the change in Lucinda’s tone indicated that the girl had acquiesced.

Elaine slipped around the end of the hedge and watched them march away. The corner in which they had stood was private, yet it offered an excellent view of anyone approaching – except from the direction of the moor.

She could warn Bridgeport of this new danger, but that would not alleviate it. The only way to thwart whatever scheme Lady Means had devised was to stay close to Miss Throckmorton, preferably in secret.

She was not left to wonder for long about the details. Lucinda put the plot into practice within the hour. Upon returning, she had gone alone to the drawing room. Elaine hid across the hall, peering through a crack in the doorway. Lady Means soon joined her niece. Moments later the girl emerged and guiltily checked for observers, her intentions obvious. Elaine held her breath until Lucinda walked briskly toward the library, then followed.

Silly chit!
She grimaced as Lucinda threw her arms around Bridgeport’s neck. The girl had no finesse. If Lady Means was determined to force a betrothal, simply being alone with the man was sufficient cause. Mark’s surprise focused all his attention on Lucinda, allowing Elaine to slip unnoticed into the room and seat herself in a chair hidden from the hallway.

Mark recovered in an instant, and bodily threw the girl onto the couch. “I don’t know what kind of trick you are playing off, but there is nothing that would convince me to wed a scheming jade,” he growled menacingly. “I despise manipulators! Feel free to blast my reputation to shreds. All you will accomplish is to destroy your own.”

Lucinda burst into tears just as Lady Means strode into the library.

“What is going on in here?” she demanded haughtily, eyes flashing.

Elaine spoke up. “Thank heaven you are here, my lady. I was just about to send Lord Bridgeport in search of you. Miss Throckmorton burst in here in tears and threw herself onto the couch, apparently believing the room to be empty. She was sobbing something about a horse killing a kitten. The shock must have been too much for her.” She met Mark’s eyes to find him so close to laughter that she nearly lost control of herself, averting her gaze only just in time.

Lady Means seemed on the verge of apoplexy, her face purple and her eyes popping out. “What are you doing in here?” she demanded of Elaine.

“Not that it is any of your business, but Lord Bridgeport and I were discussing the arrangements for tomorrow’s Tintagel outing,” she said coldly. “Would you be so kind as to remove your niece so that we may complete our business undisturbed?”

“But you couldn’t have been here! I chec–” she protested before recalling herself and biting off the words.

Lucinda’s tears changed to hysterics, prompting her aunt to slap her across the face. “Come,” she ordered shortly.

“What on earth—?” began Mark when the intruders were gone.

“Forgive me, my lord. But I overheard them plotting to compromise you and felt this was the best way to avoid a scandal. I doubt they will try again after your own performance.” She laughed.

He joined in. “I must thank you, of course. This is better than dodging ostracism. It is more than time to wind up this party. Once this Tintagel trip is over, I will see to it.”

“Save your ire for Lady Means. Miss Throckmorton was reluctant. But her aunt informed her that there was no money for a Season and forced her into this.” She rose and went to the door. “I believe you are safe from further plots, but you might consider spending some time with Lord Carrington. He is the only other guest with a large enough fortune to restore Lord Means to affluence. Smiling, she slipped out of the room.

Mark immediately hunted out his friend and related the events of the past half hour. “You may be next on the list,” he warned. “Frankly, I am amazed that you were not on top. Your title is higher.”

“But my fortune is not nearly as large as yours, and I have a reputation for being very hard to please. I will put Reggie to work on this problem. He wants to marry the chit.”

“What?”

“You heard right. He claims to be madly in love with her. I refused to plead his case with his father, but perhaps I should.”

“Do you think his infatuation will last?”

“How can one tell? But there are worse fates. If Lord Means is as far under the hatches as you suspect, he may sell Miss Throckmorton to somebody like Knowles.” The man was an elderly but wealthy lecher who, rumor claimed, had already abused three wives into early graves. “That would be unforgivable.”

“Are you actually considering loosing Means on Reggie and your uncle?” snorted Mark.

“Reggie is actually quite wealthy,” retorted Richard. “I only started rumors to the contrary to deter fortune hunters, for the boy has no sense. But you are right. I cannot inflict Means on him.” His frown deepened when he glanced out the window to see his cousin and Lucinda embracing in the rose arbor.

Mark paced the room in thought. “Are you aware that the Colonial Office is looking for governors? In the Indies alone, one retired last month, another is retiring next month, and a third contracted an illness that will force him to relinquish his post.”

“Ah! The perfect disposition for friend Means,” agreed Richard with a diabolical smile. “By the time his term is up, he should have amassed enough to settle his debts. Of course, Lady Means may not like the arrangement.” They both laughed. “I will talk to Reggie, then write a few letters.”

Mark nodded and took himself off. The last two days had been one shock after another, and he needed time to sort it all out.

He was still coming to grips with his revelations to Elaine. Not that he feared she would betray him, but he could not understand himself. He had actually enjoyed sharing that most sacred secret with her. And his openness was still affecting him. There had been several occasions when he could swear they were reading each other’s minds. It caused the oddest sensations – feelings that he had never before experienced.

So he needed time alone to put it into words. The library would never do. It was becoming far too public a place. Perhaps it would be better to avail himself of the solitude of Lookout Peak.

First he stopped at the stable. “Mickey, I will not be riding this afternoon after all,” he informed his groom. “I will walk out along the cliff path instead.”

* * * *

Elaine noticed Bridgeport in conversation with his groom as she hurried toward the stable. Most of the gentlemen were outside today. Carrington and Mr. Taylor stood under a tree, deep in a serious discussion, if their expressions were anything to go by. Mr. Hardwicke was checking the saddle on his brown gelding. Mr. Parrish was walking toward the moor, an odd place for the dandy to go, but she doubted he would wander far. His groom was harnessing his curricle.

She caught up to the earl as he turned toward the cliff path. “Miss Dubois has arrived.” At his questioning look, she added, “The new governess.”

“Ah.” Irritation flickered momentarily in his eyes. “I had best come greet her.” Setting Elaine’s hand on his arm, he headed toward the house.

Mark sent Elaine upstairs to fetch Helen, then joined the governess in the morning room.

“Miss Dubois, I believe,” he said with a smile. She was standing hesitantly before the empty fireplace, hands clasped in front of her in an effort to hide her nervousness. Primly gowned in gray, with light brown hair and eyes, she appeared to be in her thirties. Cramer had checked her references, so Mark knew she was qualified. His own fears abated once he looked into her eyes. She seemed kind. “I am Lord Bridgeport. I trust the journey was not too uncomfortable.”

“Not at all, my lord,” she disclaimed in a low voice. “It was thoughtful of you to provide a private coach.”

“It was nothing.” He motioned her to a seat. “My secretary has not met my daughter, so he can have told you little of your charge. Helen is an exceptionally bright girl with a flair for drawing. I will expect her to learn all the accomplishments expected of a lady, of course, but I will also expect you to challenge her intellect. There are no boundaries on the subjects she may study except those erected by morality. Is that acceptable, Miss Dubois?”

“May I allow her to read such things as science, then?”

“If she shows an interest. She must understand the expectations of the world in which she will live and be capable of conforming to its rules, but I do not believe that her private reading should be limited by the narrow-minded constraints of an insular society.”

“Yes, my lord.” Her eyes glowed.

“Miss Becklin is currently in charge of Helen’s education. She will be pleased to discuss their present studies. For now, you may relax and get settled. Willy will show you to your rooms.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she murmured before following the footman upstairs.

Mark headed for the library. It would be impossible to get that walk he had wanted. Instead, he must speak with Helen about Miss Dubois. He needed to help the two develop a good relationship.

But he was thwarted in that goal as well.

“Helen is not in the house,” Elaine informed him, arriving in the library ten minutes later.

“When will she be back?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know where she is. Anne thought she was with Miss Beddoes – which is where she left her an hour ago. Mary – the maid who cares for Nana during the day – says Helen stayed only ten minutes before returning to Anne."

“In other words, she slipped away again.” He sighed. “Poor timing, but Miss Dubois will learn about this problem sooner or later.”

“I am sure Helen will have less reason to explore now that she has an experienced governess. At least I presume she is experienced.”

“Cramer is very good at uncovering exactly what I want. I told him that the woman must be good with children, young enough to keep up with a bundle of energy like Helen, well educated, and willing to teach more than the usual subjects imparted to females.”

Elaine’s eyes widened.

“According to Cramer, Miss Dubois was released with a marginal character from her last position for daring to encourage an interest in science in one of her pupils. She is the daughter of an Oxford don who died in debt.”

“She sounds perfect. I look forward to making her acquaintance. You will not mind if she is friendly with the locals, I hope.”

“Not at all, but in the meantime, we must find Helen. Surely one of the servants must have spotted her.”

She nodded. “I will check the house. Perhaps you can quiz the grooms and gardeners.”

* * * *

An hour later, Elaine and Mark met again in the library. “No sign?” she asked fearfully.

“Not a hint. Carrington is searching the grounds.”

“Anne is searching the attics and Burgess the cellars. I hope she has not fallen into any of your cousin’s traps.”

His eyes met hers in unspoken agony, for he had been fearing the same thing.

“Nothing,” announced Carrington, appearing in the doorway. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

“As do we,” agreed Mark quietly.

Anne and Burgess arrived moments later, their faces telling of similar failures.

“Since we have no idea which direction she went, we will have to organize several search parties,” decided Mark. “Miss Becklin, will you and Lucy check the village? Question everyone who might have seen her today. Richard, take Jem and Mickey and look west along the cliff trail. Burgess, you and Willy search the house, including the guests’ rooms. She may have fallen asleep somewhere. Freddie will do the same for the stables and outbuildings. I will cover the moor and return on the eastern cliff path. Helen and I rode out to see the Dancing Maidens yesterday. She may have decided to return.”

“She might at that,” agreed Anne, sounding relieved. “We have been reading legendary tales the last two days – ‘Odysseus and the Cyclops,’ ‘The Piper and the Dancing Maidens,’ ‘King Arthur and his Magic Sword’.”