Anne Barbour (25 page)

Claudia sank down upon a nearby confidante, white and shaken. Jem shot her a quick glance, and placing himself next to Miss Melksham, said in a cheerful voice, “Well, I think we brushed through that rather well, don’t you?”

“I feel sick,” was Claudia’s leaden response. “I have never been comfortable with Rose, and I have disliked Thomas since our first meeting, but I never thought he would serve me so ill. Or that Rose would stand by his side while he did so.”

“Rose does not have the gumption of a sick rabbit,” sniffed Miss Melksham. “She takes after her mother. Thank goodness you took after
my
mother. Now, there was a woman with enough gumption for twelve people.”

Claudia smiled unwillingly.

“There, that’s better,” said Jem. He rose and moved to her chair, pulling her to her feet. “And now, my butler’s instinct tells me that dinner is served. Shall we?”

Tucking one of the ladies’ arms in each of his, he exited the emerald saloon with a flourish.

Somewhat to Claudia’s surprise, dinner turned out to be a pleasant experience. In the absence of the Reddingers, conversation flourished, at first among all three of the participants, but later mainly between Jem and Claudia, as Miss Melksham sat back and watched benignly. Jem told the ladies more of his experiences as a boy growing up in London. His descriptions of the characters he had encountered during his growing-up time were vivid, so that Claudia could plainly see the “gentleman” who had taught him the art of picking pockets and the gambler from whom he had learned the knack of estimating odds.

Of the time when he had been with his mother and his sisters, he said nothing, and Claudia forbore to ask. She was aware that memories could soothe and create their own world of enjoyment, but they could also slash like knives cunningly positioned in the back of one’s brain.

When they rose at last from the table, Jem declared his intention of forgoing a solitary session with the port decanter.

“I have always thought it rather ludicrous for a man to be obliged to sit alone for a specified period of time, while pleasant company awaits in another room.”

“Oh,” said Claudia uncertainly. She glanced at her aunt. “As to that, I had planned to retire to my rooms immediately after dinner. I have not even begun my packing, and Aunt Gussie and I had formed the intention of moving into Hill Cottage tomorrow.”

Jem opened his mouth, but closed it again immediately, an unreadable expression crossing his features. “Of course,” he said, his voice smooth and courteous. “I should go out to visit the stables. Jonah hired a few hands at my direction today, and I must see how they’re getting on.”

“Oh.” Claudia’s fingertips flew to her face in a guilty gesture. “I have not been out there all day. I did not know that you had spoken to Jonah—”

“For just this one day, I think we can acquit you of failing in your duties. As for the other, I apologize for hiring men without consulting you first, but with neither of us available to help out, I thought you would not mind if I set a few things in motion.”

Claudia flushed. “Of course not. It was very considerate of you—it was something I should have thought of myself.”

“Nonsense. You have quite enough on your mind for the present.” He bowed to the two ladies. “Until the morrow, then.”

The next moment, he was gone, leaving Miss Melksham to stare at her niece in surprise.

“Well! Did we say something to upset him?”

“Oh, I’m sure not,” replied Claudia hastily. “He simply understood that—um—if you will excuse me. Aunt, I shall go upstairs to begin some packing. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She nearly ran from the room in a craven rush, and did not stop until she had reached her chambers. Once there, she dropped the zephyr shawl on her dressing table, stripped the pearls from her neck, and remained frozen before her dressing table for some minutes in a brown study. She came to herself with a jerk only when she realized that her thoughts were occupied not with her immediate task, but with the tall, loose-limbed aristocrat she had left moments before.

Really, she chastised herself, aimlessly opening drawers and cupboards, she was behaving like a green schoolgirl in the throes of a crush. Of course she liked Jem Standish (though she certainly would not let him know she called him that in her thoughts) and she enjoyed his company, but to find herself falling into silly daydreams about him when she was not actively thinking about something else was the outside of enough.

What was there about him, she wondered irritatedly, that drew her thoughts? Of course, there was the fact that the two of them were engaged in a life-and-death struggle with a common adversary—that sort of thing tended to create a bond between people. On the other hand, she and Aunt Augusta had been allies against the world for some time, and she seldom found herself dreaming of that lady’s warm laughter or her compelling eyes.

Many of her illicit thoughts, she was ashamed to admit, centered on the two occasions when Jem had kissed her. Her fingers trailed across her lips as they curved in a slow smile. The next moment, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and stiffened.

She might be looking at the picture of a woman in love! But that was ridiculous. Love was a delusion, created by the authors of vapid romance fiction. In real life, there was no such thing as a happy ending for two people who might find themselves drawn to each other by a common goal. A woman would be stupid beyond words to lose her heart to a man who seemed different from all others, a man whose raven hair and silver eyes filled her dreams.

“You fool!” she said baldly to her reflection, and whirled to the stack of empty pasteboard boxes that had been placed in a pile earlier at her direction. Swiftly, she packed the contents of her wardrobe before starting in on the cupboards. It was fully dark when she finished, and, gazing at her belongings—seemingly the sum and total of her life at Ravencroft—she was overcome by a sudden weariness. Pausing only to remove her gown and make the briefest of ablutions at the pitcher and basin that stood on a nearby commode, she climbed into bed, blew out her candle, and was soon asleep.

At some time during the night, she opened her eyes, awakened by she knew not what. For a moment, she received the impression that she was not alone in the room, but when no sound reached her ears, her lids drooped again, and in another moment she was asleep.

When she awoke early the next morning, she was startled for a moment at the sight of the boxes, looming like intruders in the gray, early light. As memory returned, tears thickened in her throat. Lord, she was really leaving. Ravencroft was no longer her home. The words she had said so often in the past few days struck her anew with the force of a blow, and she knew an insane desire to dive beneath the covers and whimper like a stricken child.

She was forced to smile at the absurdity of her thoughts. Sliding from her bed, she strode to the windows and flung them open. With the same vigorous stride, she moved into the small sitting room that adjoined her bedchamber and promptly found herself “end over tail” as Jonah would have said, landing in a surprised heap on the floor.

“What in the world ...?” She gasped, and looked about her. Unbelieving, she plucked at one of the small objects scattered near her on the carpet. Pearls! And there, next to her dressing table, the broken string and clasp that had held them.

On hands and knees she retrieved the little globes and deposited them in a small dish on her dressing table. Picking up the string, she examined it closely. It showed clearly where it had frayed through, allowing the opalescent bubbles to slide to the floor.

How odd. There had been nothing wrong with the string last night. In fact, she had examined the strand not a week ago, as she did periodically, and it was in good condition.

Claudia dressed swiftly and made her way to the lower part of the house. On the stairway, she met Fimber, the housemaid, ascending to accomplish her morning duties.

“Your necklace, ma’am?” she replied blankly in response to Claudia’s question. “I’m sorry to hear it’s broke. What is it you want me to do?”

“I want to know,” said Claudia patiently, “who was in my room earlier this morning. The pearls must have been dropped—or perhaps they caught on something when they were moved. Although, why anyone should come into my room at daybreak to tidy my dressing table—”

She stopped, aware that Fimber was gazing at her with a most peculiar expression, as though she were being confronted by a madwoman.

“No one has been upstairs at all this morning, ma’am. Me and Becky were just setting out.” The maid gestured to a young woman who was approaching them from the bottom of the stairs, carrying an assortment of hot-water cans.

“But—” Claudia bit her lip. Nothing could be accomplished by questioning the girl further. She forced a smile. “Never mind, Fimber.” She turned to accompany the maids upstairs. “Since I have run into you both, let me show you the things I need taken to Hill Cottage this morning. Most everything is packed, but I shall be taking a few other things as well.”

As she spoke, she led the young women back to her room. “All the ornaments on the mantelpiece will go, as well as— what is it, Fimber?”

The maid was staring ahead of her, her finger pointing in the direction of the dressing table, and as Claudia followed her gaze, a small sound of surprise escaped her. There, coiled carelessly over the dish that had a moment before contained loose pearls, was an unbroken strand, gleaming in the first rays of sunlight that streamed into the room.

“I don’t understand,” said Claudia, crossing the room swiftly. Lifting the pearls in her fingers, she examined them closely, tugging gently and turning them carefully. She raised her eyes and intercepted a glance between Fimber and Becky. “I don’t understand,” she repeated. “They were broken—lying all over the carpet...” Observing their uncomfortable stares, she abruptly thrust the pearls into her jewel box. “Well, never mind that now.” She gestured to a shelf full of figurines above her bed. “I shall be taking those as well.” She indicated a few more items of a personal nature, and hurried the maids from the room.

She stood in the center of the room, her brow furrowed. No matter what the thoughts of her servants, she knew what she had seen. The pearls had been broken. Now they were not. What possible answer could there be to the puzzle? The pearls could not have been repaired in the few minutes that had elapsed between the time she left her room and when she had brought the maids back. In any case, why would someone steal into her room for the express purpose of destroying her property, and how ... ?

She shook her head. Perhaps she was being foolish, devoting too much attention to what was really an unimportant occurrence. On the other hand, she hated unsolved mysteries, no matter how trivial. And she seemed to be coming in for more than her share, of late. First, there was her wandering furniture, and now suicidal jewelry. Very strange.

She shook herself. She really had not the time for this nonsense, she thought irritably as she left the room. Still, the incident was very much on her mind when she met Jem some minutes later in the stables. Since her employer’s announcement last night concerning the hiring of new hands, she had made it her first order of business this morning to see what miracles had been wrought with the extra help.

She found Jem there before her, and as always, the sight of him, bursting upon her unexpectedly, caused her heart to jump in a most disconcerting manner. For an instant, his eyes became luminescent as they rested on her, but the next moment, they were shuttered.

“Have you come to inspect the fruits of our new laborers?” he asked, when their good mornings had been said.

Claudia laughed. “It seems strange to come out here dressed in muslins instead of a shirt and breeches, but I must admit...” She gestured to a young man just emerging from one of the buildings, propelling a wheelbarrow full of straw and manure. “... I shan’t miss that particular chore.”

Jem grinned. “Come, let’s go look at Goblin. He’s grown amazingly in two weeks.”

Two weeks! thought Claudia, startled. Goblin had been born on the night after Jem’s arrival, but it seemed that Jem had been a part of her life for much longer than two weeks. Really, it seemed that there was hardly a time in her life when she had not known him.

She glanced at him surreptitiously as they made their way to the stable that housed Jenny and her foal. Please God, let him find his prosperous parti soon. The thought of his marrying some simpering debutante was more painful than she would have thought possible, but at least it would put him firmly
out
of her reach.

“What?” she asked blankly, aware that he was speaking
to
her.

“You are looking uncommonly pensive, this morning. Has some new disaster occurred to enliven our dull little doings?”

“Oh. No, of course not. That is—” She turned to him impulsively. “Yes, there is. Have you a moment, my lord?”

Concern sprang to his eyes. “Of course.” He led her to the stable office and settled her in a comfortable old chair before taking one himself. “What is it?”

She laughed self-consciously. “It is nothing, really, yet— well, I hope you won’t think I have gone ‘round the bend when I tell you my tale.” Briefly she recounted the history
of
her misplaced tables and chairs, and the broken pearls that were not really broken after all.

When she had finished, she was surprised to see his jaw harden in anger.

“Why, it is perfectly obvious, my dear, who is at the bottom of your little mystery. You have no further to look that the little group ensconced in our east wing.”

Chapter Eighteen

“Thomas?” squeaked Claudia in utter astonishment. Then, as comprehension spread across her features, her eyes darkened ominously. “Of course! How could I have been so stupid?”

“Possibly,” responded Jem dryly, “because you are unaccustomed to being the target of a malicious campaign on the part of what others might call your loved ones. Reddinger will apparently stop at nothing to make the world think you’ve gone loony. He no doubt plans to bring in the two maids you spoke of as witnesses against you.”