A Fateful Wind (24 page)

“Then she is not dead?” Emmeline asked, seeming perplexed by the whole scenario.

Jack stifled a smile, an immense mixture of pride and pleasure sweeping over him as he realized Pippa finally achieved her dream.

“Dead?” The countess snorted. “Oh, no, my dear, Emmeline, although she may as well be. To me she is dead. She is no longer my daughter, for how could any daughter treat a mother’s wishes so.” The countess once again reached for her sniffing salts, before waving her portly hand over her dress. “Look at me! Look at my dress! I have been forced to cloth myself in mourning garments for the grief that child has brought to me. She will be damned to hell for what she has done and he shall be sure to follow. Mark my words, Emmeline. They are doomed, the pair of them.”

Emmeline lifted herself wearily to her feet. “Then I am to understand she has…”

“Eloped,” the countess wailed, sniffing tragically. “Eloped with a man who has a mere pittance of an inheritance. Not enough to keep a simple woman in frocks, let alone my darling Phillippa. He is no more than a soldier. A soldier I tell you! It is unheard of, simply unheard of. And now she has left with him to Bristol with no regard for her mother or what is to become of her!”

“My goodness!” Lady Emmeline reached for the brandy decanter and, with a shocked, expression poured herself a large tumbler.

“And I may as well have taken out a full page periodical in the London Times announcing the fact for all the tongues that have been wagging most loosely. Not only yesterday I received a letter from the Marquis of Chelmsford admonishing Phillippa’s actions and pondering how any child could have acted so brashly. Chelmsford! News has already reached there. My good name will be lost forever! I may as well pack up and move to France for I have nothing of family, nor good fortune left here in England.” The countess finished, a despondent look crossing her face, before she cast her eyes over Emmeline. “You look awful. I did mean to send note of my prayers to you over the loss of Lord Edwin. Alas, with my own tragedy and grief, I was in no mind to be of moral support to anyone.”

Emmeline nodded sympathetically. “I quite understand and thank you for your consideration.”

“I should have wished to have been a pillar of strength for you and, under normal circumstances, you know I would have. After all, we all know I am a giver, not a taker.” The countess patted her ample chest and nodded in solitary agreement. “I pride myself on my caring companionship and understanding of others and yet, in my greatest moment of need, I have never felt so alone…so terribly, terribly alone.”

Sir Jack cleared his throat sarcastically, whilst he prodded the embers of the dying fire. “When did she leave?”

“A mere ten days ago” the countess answered.

“I am sure she will be very happy,” Jack said, a slow smile crossing his face as he pictured the countess’s initial response to the news.

“Happy!” The countess exploded. “She is a ruined woman.”

“Why?” Lady Emmeline asked inquisitively. “Is she living with the young man in sin?”

“Worse, far worse. She has eloped with the beast, married in secret against my wishes and those of her dead father. Oh my heart, it breaks so tragically. This news could send me to an early grave.” The countess clutched at her chest.

The room became silent as Emmeline and Jack watched the countess, astounded by Phillippa’s actions. Finally, Jack turned away from the fire. “But she is happy?”

“Happy? Pah! How can anyone be happy with a mere pauper for a husband?” The countess spat.

“Well, the gentleman is hardly a pauper! I thought you said he was a member of the British Army and, from what I hear, a captain. He should be able to provide nicely for Phillippa. As long as she is happy, I should think you would welcome him into your family.”

The countess's face crinkled and turned purple with rage. Flinging the poodle from her lap once more, she sat forward in her chair, locking Jack in an angry gaze. “I should welcome this?”

“Yes.” Jack ignored the venomous response his words were drawing from the peevish woman. “Phillippa is a lovely woman, a woman you should be proud to call a daughter. I am delighted she has found such a kindly man and one whom loves her so ardently. It is a sad state of things when true love is denied.

“Well!” The countess began, her mouth open, obviously about to drench Jack in a torrent of verbal assaults until she noted the stern expression on his face, the unbending way he gazed at her.

“We must think of the best for Phillippa,” Emmeline soothed. “Surely over time your anger will fade and you will embrace your only daughter back into the family.”

The countess lowered her head and reaching for her handkerchief, brought it to her face, stifling a yawn. “My goodness,” she said, as the gilt clock on the mantelpiece rang four o’clock. “Is that the time? I shall never reach home in one piece tonight, given my frail temperament.” She looked over expectantly at Lady Emmeline.

“Should you like me to prepare a room here at Penrose Manor for you this evening, countess?” Lady Emmeline asked begrudgingly.

“Oh! That would be splendid.” The countess clapped her hands together. “I said to myself when I heard of Pippa’s elopement, I said if there is anyone I can lean on in this, my most tragic moment of heartbreak and forlorn spirit, it is my dear friend Lady Emmeline Penrose. How right I was. You are a true friend and companion. I am afraid there are not many of us left.” She glanced over petulantly at Sir Jack and rolled her eyes. “And pray, let us have Cook fix me something delicious. I am most happy to report that unloading all of this…this bereavement…from my chest has given me back quite an appetite.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Sir Jack stalked along the cold stone hallway, flinging open the heavy wooden doors that ran along the length of the manor, searching inside each room for signs of the young boy. Anxiously, he called out his name, “Charlie? Charlie?” as he looked inside the empty rooms. Finally, entering the library, he heard a slight whimpering from behind the heavy burgundy velvet drapes.

“Charlie, is that you?” Jack asked hesitantly, feeling sheepish for his instinctive actions toward the young boy’s imaginative intrusion.

He heard a sniffle in reply. Pulling back the thick material, he saw the boy perched on the window ledge, his knees hugged up to his chest and a fearful expression on his face.

“Whatever is the matter?” he asked, perplexed by the boy’s apparent unhappiness.

“I have done something so awful, Master Jack.” The boy sobbed. “You will be sending me off to the workhouse when I tell you.”

“What have you done?” Jack sighed. He remembered how he broke one of Lady Emmeline’s prized vases on one of his boyhood trips to Penrose Manor. “What have you broken?”

Charlie reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and retrieved the silver locket, the snapped chain slithering through his small fingers. Anger surged through Jack at the sight of the jewelry. Grabbing the necklace from the boy, he held it in his palm, the hopelessness and impatience he felt for his uneventful search for Jenna worsening his temper.

“Where did you find this?” he demanded. “Did I not specifically tell you that you were not to be delving and prying into Lady Emmeline’s belongings? We are guests in this house and now look what you have done!” He threw the broken locket across the room, the sting of tears threatening in his eyes.

Charlie burst into tears once more, a panicked story emerging from amidst the sobs. “And now she’s dead,” he blubbered, wiping his nose on his well starched cotton shirt.

“What do you mean dead? Who is dead? Whatever are you talking about, boy?”

“The lady in the tunnel. The lady from the moors. She led me back here through the secret tunnel and told me to tell you she was here, except you were busy with the large bossy lady and when I went back to tell her, she was lying on the floor dead.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “You know, Charlie, I encourage an active imagination, however yours is verging in the side of being absolutely ridiculous. I understand Penrose Manor may be a tad quiet for you compared with the crime ridden streets of London, but there is no need to make up stories!”

“But ‘tis true, Sir Jack. The woman knew all about the manor and you and Lady Emmeline. Please, you have to help her. I think she’s dead.”

Jack sighed, trying to revive his ill temper and be more forgiving of the boy’s overactive imagination. “Where did you meet this woman?”

“In the quarry in the magical secret shed I found hidden there yesterday. She was sleeping like a beautiful princess, except she wouldn’t be married like a princess would.”

“Not married?” Jack asked, inwardly smiling that Charlie should have found such a sentimental place to play in.

“Well, no. She is a nun and now she is dead. I shall burn in hell for not saving her in time.”

Jack felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, a steely coldness enveloped his body and his throat felt parched and dry. “A nun?” He grabbed Charlie by the shoulders and shook him. “Why didn’t you tell me this before boy?”

“I tried, but you sent me out of the room.”

Lifting the boy from the window ledge, he grabbed a candle from the shelf. “Oh, Charlie,” he said hurriedly blinking back the tears. “If what you are telling me is what I think it is, then you must take me to her immediately. Please God, please God, let it be her, let it be Jenna.”

Together, they pushed back the sliding mahogany book shelf to reveal the secret passageway that lay behind. Holding the lit candle in front, Jack followed Charlie into the cold damp tunnel, the flickering light of the flame revealing the small frame of a body lying on the stone floor.

“Here, hold this,” Jack ordered, handing Charlie the candle. Bending down over the figure, he rolled the body over to take a look, his breath catching in his throat as the light illuminated Jenna’s face beneath the nun’s habit. “Oh, good God.” He bent his face to hers and covered her cheeks with kisses. “Oh, good God.” He lifted her small wrist in his hands and pressed two fingers to her pulse. “She is still alive!” He turned to Charlie. “She is alive.”

Jack pulled the habit away from her forehead and patted her gently on her cheeks. “Jenna. Jenna. Jenna. You are safe. I am here my darling. You are safe.”

Wearily, she opened one eye, a slow tired smile crossing her gaunt face. “Oh, Jack, I have found you.”

Jack lifted her small frame in his arms. She snuggled closer, cradling her face in the nook of his shoulder. He urged the boy to walk on ahead of them holding the candle and, emerging from the dark tunnel, he carried her into his bedroom and placed her on the bed, his words lost as he gazed down at her tired, pale face.

“Go fetch Lady Emmeline,” Jack ordered Charlie. “Be hasty and make no mention of this to anyone else.”

Lifting Jenna’s hand to his lips, he covered her cold palm with kisses, pulling up the other hand and rubbing them gently between his in an effort to warm them. “My, you are like ice. I thought I lost you.”

Jenna shook her head. “You are all I think about. I was a fool to send you away. But the thought of you made me realize I have suffered enough. To live a life without you would be a life not worth living. You are everything to me. Can you ever forgive me, Jack?”

Jack kissed her face tenderly. “Can you ever forgive me?” he asked. “I have been the fool to have let you go the first time. The fool to have not prevented what my cousin did to you. But I will not be the fool any longer, Jenna. I promise you that I will take you away from all of this. I will protect you, love you, honor you and, if you will have me, marry you.”

Gently, he brushed away the tears that rolled from her brilliant turquoise eyes and, bending his lips to hers, drew her into a long, passionate and sensual kiss. Jenna lifted her face up to his, wiping away the salty tears with her lips as she moved them closer to his mouth again.

“Oh Jack,” she murmured. “I love you too. I never stopped loving you. When I received your letter, I was destroyed. Tamzin, she…I know she did not tell you the full story…”

“Shush,” Jack whispered. “That is in the past. We don’t need to think about the past anymore. We have our future if you want it, a future together. Please, tell me you will stay with me and that you will do as Lady Emmeline planned?”

She nodded, knotting her fingers through his. “I left Plymouth, ready to confess everything, but my feelings changed. I was so tired and distraught when I left the convent. I didn’t think through things clearly. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to hang for doing what I had to do to save myself from Lord Edwin. If Lady Emmeline could forgive the terrible thing I did, then I am sure over time I may be able to forgive myself. I don’t want to stay here in Cornwall. I cannot stay here, surrounded by these memories anymore. Where will we go?”

“America,” he said simply. “As we once planned. There is nothing for me in Cornwall either. Lord Edwin’s involvement in the mining accident has left Penrose Mines shattered. The Penrose name is no longer associated with the pride and prestige it once was. I need to focus my energies back in America where my name will bear the fruit of the mining dynasty. And I want you there by my side as my wife.”

“And Lady Emmeline?” Jenna asked, her face fearful again. “Why was she so forgiving of me? What if she is not to be trusted?”

“There is something she wishes to tell you when you are stronger, secrets Lady Emmeline has kept wrapped in her heart for these past eighteen years.”

Jack stood as the knock came on the door and Lady Emmeline entered the bedroom. With a shocked gasp, she brought her hand up to her mouth.

“Jenna!” she exclaimed, walking over to the bed and seating herself next to her. She pressed the back of her palm against Jenna’s forehead. “Why, you have a fever.”

Jenna nodded. “I will be fine. I am just so exhausted. I shall be fine after a good night’s sleep.”

“I will have Cook make some soup for you my dear and hot milk.”

Jenna nodded, a mixture of relief and happiness crossing her face.

“She would like to know,” Jack said to Lady Emmeline as they closed the bedroom door behind them. Charlie handed her the broken locket. “She needs to know.”

“Let her recover from her ordeal first. I will tell her everything I know as soon as she is well enough to be able to take in the news. But she is here. She is back with us!” Emmeline squeezed Jack’s hand. “Are you happy?”

“More than I have or could ever be again in my life,” he laughed, patting Charlie’s head. “And it is all thanks to you young man. In fact, I feel rejuvenated enough to enjoy a few more hours of the countesses company. My, my, my, what with Phillippa’s elopement with the officer and my engagement to your personal servant, the countess will be requiring a whole cartload of smelling salts!”