Anne Barbour (27 page)

She rose from the settee, and would have fled the room, but Jem grasped her wrist.

“One moment, if you please. I am somewhat dismayed at your reading of my character, Mrs. Carstairs. Do you really think me such a monster that I would throw you and your aunt out into the world, alone and unprotected?”

She looked at him blankly. “No, of course I do not think you a monster. On the other hand, you had no reason to accede to my request for employment. You mentioned a settlement, but I could not, of course, place any credence in that.”

Jem had by now grown very rigid. “Why ‘of course’?” he asked softly.

Claudia turned to him, her eyes very wide. “Because it was not to your advantage. Why should you throw away perfectly good money on a stranger for no good reason?”

“ ‘For no good reason’!” He ran slender fingers through his hair. “I was about to eject you from a place you called home— a place you had come to love. Do you not think that would weigh with me? And afterward—I rather thought we had become—friends—” Again, he seemed to be having trouble with his words.

“Yes,” she said in a rush. “This is what made the whole thing so increasingly difficult for me. I truly did intend to give you the list if it began to look as though Thomas would be about to ruin everything.”

“Did you?” He stared at her as though at a stranger. “I thought I knew you, Claudia, but—” He lifted his hands in a baffled gesture. “Why,” he asked after a moment, “are you giving me the list now?”

She gazed again at the hands clenched tightly in her lap. “I—I could no longer keep them from you. Things had come to such a pass—”

“Indeed,” Jem interrupted. “They had reached the point, had they not, where your own status was in jeopardy. How uncomfortable for you to run the risk of such public humiliation. Pilloried as a lunatic!” His laughter came in an ugly rasp. “To think that I believed you to be warm and open and giving. You may congratulate yourself. Widow Carstairs. You performed magnificently, even though,” he added cryptically, “your efforts were all so unnecessary, as it turns out.” He made as though to stride from the room, but halted suddenly and whirled on her.

“And no,” he said harshly. “I shall not tear up our contract. I, for one, signed it in good faith. You are still my employee. What an edifying ring that has, don’t you think? It quite clarifies our positions. Particularly since you so wisely chose to live under another roof. With any luck at all, we shan’t have to spend more than an hour or two a week in each other’s company, which, I assure you, is about all I’ll be able to stomach.”

He left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Claudia remained motionless, at last allowing the tears that had gathered in an aching lump at the back of her throat to spill down her cheeks. Unable to stand, she sank to her knees, rocking back and forth and sobbing in her anguish like an abandoned child.

* * * *

Claudia was not apprised of Thomas’s capitulation until late that afternoon.

“I cannot believe that Glenraven did not come to you immediately with the news,” said Miss Melksham. “He told me hours ago.” The two ladies stood in the parlor of Hill Cottage, surveying the small mountain of boxes that surrounded them. It was a small, comfortable house that had been furnished with care two generations before for the use of an admired artist who took up residence for some months on the Glenraven estate. Claudia had claimed a large, sunny loft on the top floor for her bedchamber, while Miss Melksham happily took a spacious, yet cozy room on the floor below.

“The whole thing,” continued the older lady, “quite put me in a humdudgeon. I had not known of Thomas’s sneaking into your rooms, of course, though I wondered when you said your furniture had been moved.”

For some minutes after her aunt’s recital, Claudia started at her in amazement. “Rose said all that?” she said at last. “Rose did that for me? I can scarcely credit it.” She fell again into a wondering silence before speaking again. “I don’t understand it at all. I would never in my life have dreamed that she could act so.” She lifted her eyes to her aunt. “And Thomas gave in? He agreed to stop his litigation?”

“Well, I understand he did not actually promise—at the time, but according to Glenraven, he just sagged in on himself like a pricked balloon. Glenraven believes, since there can be no doubt Rose will carry out her threat, we can regard Thomas Reddinger as a spent force.”

Claudia felt dizzy with relief and gratitude toward her sister. To think that the woman she had viewed from childhood with such contempt could stand up to the person she no doubt feared the most in the world! She must go to Rose and thank her as soon as possible.

Later, however, as she put her belongings away in cupboards and wardrobes scattered about the sunny loft, her happiness fell away from her abruptly. It must have been Thomas’s removal as a threat to which Jem had referred when he spoke of her “unnecessary” revelation of Emanuel’s list to him. He believed, thought Claudia with a pang, that the only reason she had given them up to him was her concern for her own difficulties.

And how could she blame him? He no doubt thought her a grasping harpy, willing to stoop to extortion to gain her own ends. He was very nearly right, after all.

On the other hand, how could she have known that he would be so different from every other man she had ever known? Her instinct had told her to trust him; it was her mind, with only the logic of experience to guide her that told her men were the enemy. Men used women like convenient tools for their own designs, without thought to the damage and heartbreak they caused, and a woman must be ferocious and unyielding in her defenses.

Well, she had defended herself right into a broken heart. Jem had trusted her, and she had betrayed that trust. She had only herself to blame that he felt nothing for her now but contempt.

On the other hand, perhaps this was all a blessing in disguise. Her love for Jeremy Standish was a golden dream, and like all such fantasies, would eventually become corroded and hurtful when exposed to the cold light of reality. If they had remained on friendly terms, the seed of hope would be a constant, disturbing presence in her dealings with him. He had kissed her—twice—with a warmth and passion that had stirred her to her core, but two kisses did not a romance make. Jem obviously had nothing more permanent in mind than an occasional pleasant interlude. No, he had made it clear that he must seek a bride for profit, not for love. She took a deep breath. Now, at least, she would see little of him. There would be no laughter between them—no banter, or warm, casual conversation. He would be cold and correct during their infrequent meetings. As would she.

This line of thought, not unexpectedly, brought her little satisfaction, and tears rose once more behind her eyes. Raising a hand, she dashed them away. She had cried once for her doomed love. She would not do so again.

Chapter Nineteen

The ensuing days followed one another in a dreary sameness. Claudia saw little of Jem. She kept to the stables, hurrying back and forth between her duties there and the little cottage that she attempted to call home. She caught only brief glimpses of Jem as he slipped into one or another of the stable buildings for a visit with Jonah. He had apparently decided to confine his interest in the Ravencroft horse-breeding endeavor to these infrequent conferences.

From Aunt Augusta, she discovered that the bulk of Jem’s days were spent in inspecting his estate. He had met with his tenants and examined their cottages, promising much-needed repairs, and he walked over his fields, discussing the methods of crop improvement he planned to put into effect. Did he have the funds to put all this into effect? she wondered. Aunt Gussie mentioned tentative visits to a few of the neighboring families, as well as callers received. She wondered if Lord Glenraven might be considering her ill-advised suggestion regarding the Misses Flowers and Miss Perrey.

Or perhaps he would look higher. He might travel to London for the Season next spring, where he would have the pick of a whole bevy of wealthy maidens. In this arena, surely Jem’s title and lineage and plans for the future would outweigh the present scantiness of his funds.

As for herself, she would begin making plans for her departure from Ravencroft. All her pleasure in the thought of remaining on the estate was gone, replaced with a gnawing sadness that she knew would be with her for all her days here. With careful budgeting, she could save nearly all she was earning as Jem’s stable manager, and within a year, she might look about her for a small place of her own.

The one bright spot in all this, she reflected with a lightening of her heart, was her reconciliation with Rose. Her sister had replied to her thanks with a surprising response of her own.

“I should imagine you were astonished,” she said with what could only be described as an impish grin that made her look years younger. “Well, no more so than I was. If Thomas had not been nearby—if I had been obliged to contain my outrage for a long period of time, waiting for him to come home from the hunt or his club, or whatever, I would never have summoned up the courage to face him. I would simply have swallowed my anger and my pride as I have done so many times in the past, and bowed before his masculine assurance that he must always know what’s best.”

“Oh, Rose, I know how hard it must have been for you to—”

Rose raised her hand and smiled ruefully. “Not as hard as it should have been. I never had much difficulty submitting to his judgment—as I had always done to Papa’s.” She laid a hand on Claudia’s arm. “You know, I always used to envy you your independence.”

Claudia’s mouth opened in astonishment. “I always thought you disapproved of me!”

“I did—most of the time. At least, I tried to convince myself that I did. That way, I could make myself believe that my own lack of spirit was a virtue.”

“Oh, Rose.” Claudia’s mouth curved in a warm smile. “Sometimes I used to get so furious with you, but on many an occasion, I knew deep inside that your sense of propriety was to be envied.” She gave a watery chuckle. “Perhaps if Mama and Papa had produced only one daughter, she would have been a happy combination of conventionality and individualism. And perhaps she would have been happier in the long run.”

Startlingly, a mischievous twinkle appeared in Rose’s eyes. “As it happens, sister, I consider myself a great deal happier than I was a few days ago. When Thomas left for home, his attitude to me bore more respect than I would ever have thought to receive from him.” She continued earnestly. “He is not a bad man, you know, despite the trick he tried to pull on you. You believe him to have acted out of pure greed, but I am sure he did not covet Ravencroft for himself. I think he simply could not bear to see a woman in control of such potential wealth. He could not bear to see a woman in such control of her own life, for that matter, and he felt that you would do ever so much better under his guidance, if you only had the sense to see it.”

Claudia laughed. “You may be right. Thomas does seem to have a wide managerial streak in him.” She lowered her gaze to her hands, searching for a subject with which to turn the conversation. “How is George doing? When I saw him yesterday, he was doing his very best to outwit Nanny Grample’s efforts to keep him in bed.”

At this, Rose laughed as well. “Indeed, we are at our wits’ end. I told him he might have Rumple—his puppy, you know—in the room with him, but I’m not sure that was wise. The dog creates as much chaos as does George, and when Horatia joins the fray, the noise level rises beyond what is bearable.” She flicked a glance at her sister. “Never fear, we shall be away from Ravencroft in a few days.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s all right,” said Rose with a shrug of her shoulders. “Perhaps the next time we see each other, the awkwardness will have subsided. Although, I do regret leaving you here in such a compromising situation.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I fear you will find it most uncomfortable when it becomes known that you are living in such close quarters to Lord Glenraven.”

Claudia felt her temper rise. Apparently Rose’s admiration for an independence of spirit did not extend to present circumstances.

“I am not living under the same roof,” she snapped, “and I believe that Aunt Gussie’s presence will deter any unpleasant gossip.”

Rose delivered herself of a small, superior smile, but said nothing further.

I suppose, reflected Claudia later in the privacy of her room at Hill Cottage, it is too much to expect a lifetime of animosity to be dissolved away in one conversation. Still, she felt a sort of understanding had been reached with Rose, and a sense of better things to come between them.

She sighed wearily, her thoughts turning again to Jem—as they seemed to do with a dismal frequency. Her relationship with him had not improved, and she was having little success in convincing herself that this was a situation to be desired.

“Goodness,” Miss Melksham had said only this morning at breakfast. “The man never rests from morning till night. He traveled all the way to Cotterborough yesterday just to talk to old Mr. Chilfer about sheep.”

“Oh yes,” Claudia replied thoughtfully. “He raises that new breed of sheep we’ve been hearing about. Merinos, they’re called. Does Glenraven think to replace our—his Gloucesters, I wonder?”

“As to that, I cannot say.” Her aunt surveyed her closely. “Has he not talked to you of all this?”

“No, of course not,” Claudia answered in some irritation. “Why should he? I am only the hired help, after all. It would not be seemly for him to discuss estate matters with me, other than the horse operation.”

“Mm,” said Miss Melksham noncommittally. “I suppose that’s true.” Her eyes sharpened as she gazed at her niece. “You have not had a falling out with his lordship, have you?”

Claudia assayed an airy laugh that fell far short of success. “Really, Aunt, my relationship with Glenraven is purely professional, which is much the way I prefer to keep it.”

“I see,” Miss Melksham had replied thoughtfully. She had left almost immediately, her skirts rustling crisply.