Charity (28 page)

“You will not sabotage my marriage, Mother. Take her back to the village. Now.” Without waiting for a response, he stalked back into the great room and saw Beth standing there, saw the wounded look on her pretty face.

“I’m sorry, Lachlan,” the girl said in a small voice. “I didn’t imagine you’d be angry when I took the job your mother offered.” She stared up at him with vulnerable eyes. “My father is struggling to continue working as he ages.
He’s going to have to sell the blacksmith shop to someone younger. I thought it was a good opportunity for me to begin earning money of my own, so that I can care for him.”

Lachlan sighed. “You’re a beautiful girl, Beth. Surely you can find a husband to care for you and your father.”

She shook her head. “Not if I stay in Ashton, and Papa has his heart set on that. My prospects are so limited here. Especially now.”

Lachlan knew that she was right. The village was prospering, but because of the years of neglect before he began helping his father with investments, the village had lost an entire generation of young people who had left to seek opportunities elsewhere. The folk who remained were either elderly or married couples with smaller children.

The marquess found he was not proof against the look of helpless appeal in those wide green eyes. Though things had changed, he had indeed once felt for this girl. “Of course you can stay, Beth. It isn’t your fault, in any case.”

With a grateful smile, the blonde bobbed a quick curtsy and then impulsively stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Taken by surprise, Lachlan reached for her shoulders to steady himself, but he only succeeded in pulling her against him before finally catching his balance. Charity watched from the top of the stairs. When she saw her husband’s arms close around the blonde girl, she pressed her lips together and went to her room, trying to quell the sudden surge of jealousy that threatened to overwhelm her senses. Just days ago she would have reacted swiftly and loudly, a characteristic which had, ironically, landed her here in Scotland. Now, however . . . she found herself more and more often giving herself time to assess situations in an effort to better understand them.

Lachlan allowed Beth’s kiss but then dropped his arms
and stepped quickly back. The girl’s lips had lingered on his cheek, and he wanted no misunderstandings. “I said you can stay,” he said evenly, “but no more of that.” He turned away and went up the stairs, taking them two at time in his haste to explain things to his wife.

When he reached his chamber, she was nowhere to be seen. Cursing the events of the afternoon that had ruined a nearly perfect day, he crossed through the bathing chamber and knocked quietly on Charity’s closed door. Without waiting, he turned the knob and pulled it open. His wife was seated at her vanity, brushing her hair, the room now neat and orderly thanks to Niles.

“Looks like I didn’t need to purchase the new brush and comb after all, my lord,” she said quietly into the mirror, her eyes seeking his in the reflection. “Is everything all right?”

Lachlan hesitated, not quite sure how to explain the situation downstairs. After a moment he spoke. “Beth Gilweather is the girl to whom I was formerly engaged, Charity.” He watched her carefully.

Charity turned to face him, trying to get the image of his arms closing around Beth’s shoulders from her mind. “Your mother brought her here to undermine our relationship?”

Lachlan nodded. “Our engagement badly. She had waited quite some time for me.”

Charity chewed on her lower lip, wishing she could find a way to stem the tide of jealousy surging through her belly. “Do you still care for her?”

Lachlan met her eyes. “Only in the same way I care about the welfare and happiness of all those in Ashton. It is my duty.”

Charity nodded, wondering at his sudden distance, but
she didn’t ask again. If he wished to discuss his mother’s new maid further with her he would, she decided.

When his wife remained silent, Lachlan bowed. “I’m going to find Niles so that we can see about getting the coach back up to the keep to repair the damage. I’ll see you at supper, Charity.” He crossed the room, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and left the room.

Twenty-nine

It
didn’t break.”

Lachlan looked up from the letter he was reading to see his valet standing in the doorway of his study. “I beg your pardon?”

“The axle. It didn’t just break.”

The marquess frowned, reading Niles’s meaning. “It was deliberately tampered with?” He thought back to the scene at the inn and wondered if Anthony Iverson had been given time or opportunity to do such a thing after he’d let him go, but then he shook his head. The coachman and outriders had stayed with the vehicle until Lachlan sent them to London.

Niles nodded.

“Then, that means someone in London—”

“No, my lord,” interrupted Niles. “The cut is fresh. No more than a day or two. It was sawed partially through, so that it would break while it was being used.”

Lachlan steepled his fingers and pressed them against his lips, his gray eyes narrowed in contemplation. After a moment he picked up the letter he’d been reading and handed it to the valet. It was from Sebastian, and it simply said that they had lost track of Iverson after confronting him at a ball, and there were Bow Street Runners looking for him, but that Lachlan should be aware that the man could have traveled to Scotland. He’d made a threat just before he disappeared.

Niles scanned the contents and looked up. He chewed his lip, thinking. “I think we need to consider others as well, my lord.”

“Others? Who would want me dead?” His mother’s face danced into his mind, and he grimaced, loath to even consider the possibility that she hated him enough to go to such lengths. “It has to be someone like Iverson.”

The burly valet shifted with discomfort. “Things would be very different here if your brother became Marquess of Asheburton,” he said. He watched his master closely. The family seldom spoke of the madness that sometimes gripped Lewiston. It mostly manifested as a period of deep depression, but occasionally he would fly into a quiet sort of rage. During those times, he refused to reason with anyone, and the members of the household carefully avoided him until the madness passed.

“Lewiston has no interest in the title. He was horrified when I suggested abdicating so that he could inherit after the marquess died.”

“I wasn’t only thinking about him, my lord, and you know it.”

Lachlan sighed. “Mother.”

“She could manipulate your brother in ways she knows she cannot with you. And there is now the possibility that you will sire an heir with Charity, which would only further distance her from controlling these lands. You’ll pardon me for saying.”

Lachlan strummed his fingers on the desk and shook his head, then reached for a quill and parchment. “Keep an eye on her, Niles,” he said brusquely. “I’ll send a note to Sebastian asking him to visit. He and I will figure this out together.”

The valet nodded grimly and left the room.

The next few weeks passed without event. Charity settled into her new role as Marchioness of Asheburton with ease, especially since learning it involved really nothing more than just being herself and enjoying the time she spent with her husband. And if Lachlan seemed distracted at times, she told herself it was only because he was back home and getting used to doing all the things he’d always done while at the same time managing a wife. She consoled herself with the fact that, even if she didn’t see him during the day, he still made passionate love to her every night, whispering words of love and need. She still woke each morning curled in his bed, her body tingling in all the places he’d touched, and waited for him to return from his morning ride and teasingly kiss her out of the bed to begin her day. Inside, though, tiny niggling doubts were slowly eating away at her.

Everywhere she turned, it seemed, she saw Beth. If she went walking atop the walls, she saw the girl standing at a window, watching. When she went to the stables to acquaint herself with the gentle mare Lachlan provided for her to ride down to the village to see Father Bart, she encountered Beth on the way back. Ostensibly the girl was always on an errand for the dowager, but to Charity’s mind she never seemed at all busy with any occupation connected to being a lady’s maid. Enid had arrived, as promised, and she treated her position far differently, dancing attendance on her mistress, and being generally available to Charity at all times. The sight of the pretty blonde girl became so irritating, in fact, that Charity found herself on edge even when Beth wasn’t around.

When Lachlan was busy, Charity took to spending time with Lewiston, who also seemed to dislike his mother’s new maid. Despite his occasional tendency to become
withdrawn, she liked her brother-in-law’s gentle company and appreciated the pragmatic outlook with which he viewed life. To him, the simpler things were, the more he liked them, which was reportedly why he disliked Beth: she represented an unnecessary complication in a life that would run more smoothly, he felt, if she were absent.

“There’s no convincing Mother of that, however,” he sighed during one of their conversations.

Charity stroked Minerva, who was curled in her lap. The kitten was growing quickly and had the run of the house now that she had dealt with the dogs. She seemed to take great pleasure in spending time with Boris and Belle, actually, which amused Charity, since it also meant the kitten spent a great deal of time near Eloise, who, as it turned out, was allergic. Every sneeze that filtered through the keep was music to Charity’s ears, unkind though such a sentiment was.

“I think your mother just doesn’t really know how to let go of her disappointment in some of the choices she has made.”

Lewiston raised his brows. “That’s a generous assessment, given her treatment of you, Charity.”

“I talked to Father Bart about it. She and I aren’t so very different in temperament, you see.” Charity’s forehead wrinkled when she thought of some of her more impulsive moments, right up to the decision to drink too much champagne and trust Anthony Iverson. “I was fortunate that Lachlan was looking out for me, that he rescued me as he did. Your mother had to rescue herself.”

“You really love him, don’t you?”

Charity’s lips curved in a winsome smile. “My sister Amity knew that I did long before I would admit it to myself. Again, showing my stubborn nature. But yes. I do. Very much.”

Lewiston nudged her shoulder with his. “Then why are you sitting out here on this wall with me? Shouldn’t you be spending time with him?”

“He’s been busy,” she said slowly. “I don’t like to seem needy or bothersome.” Charity stopped and laughed a little. “My family would likely be astonished to hear me say that.” She shook her head in wonder at the changes in her temperament since her marriage.

“Go. Don’t be a goose. I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

Charity thought for a moment. “You know, I think I will,” she decided with a nod. “Perhaps he doesn’t know how I miss him. After all, we see one another at meals and at night. Maybe he thinks that is all I desire.”

Lewiston watched his sister-in-law leave and made a mental note to ask Lachlan what had him so distracted. Although Charity didn’t apparently know her husband well enough in this setting to understand his recent behavior was indeed odd, Lewiston did. And if it had anything at all to do with Beth, he had every intention of removing her from the keep. He’d do so even if he had to threaten his mother.

Charity walked through the great room to the foyer beyond, which led to the section of the keep that housed Lachlan’s study and the extensive adjacent library. She had already spent hours in that room, astonished by the sheer number of books that lined the shelves from floor to ceiling on three of the four walls. She peeked inside, just in case Lachlan was there, but she didn’t see him and turned toward the closed door of his study. Just as she raised her hand to knock, the door opened from the inside and Charity found herself face to face with Beth Gilweather.

They stared at one another a moment before Charity spoke. “Pardon me. I was looking for my husband.” She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes at the maid.

By way of answer, Beth pushed the door open wider so that Charity could see past her. Lachlan was seated at his desk, going over a book filled with columns of numbers. The maid gave her a smug little smile and brushed past on her way out.

Lachlan glanced up. “Charity,” he said, standing up with a smile. “I didn’t expect to see you until dinner.”

Quite obviously
, thought Charity, then instantly regretted the bitter thought. She put Beth’s catty smile out of her mind and walked farther into the room. “I missed you, my lord,” she admitted softly. “I wondered if you might like to take a walk?”

Lachlan glanced down at the ledger for a second and then closed it. “That sounds like an excellent idea, kitten.” He grinned. “Are you wearing serviceable shoes?”

Charity laughed and lifted her skirts, showing him her walking boots. “They aren’t very pretty,” she said, “but at least I won’t turn an ankle or hurt myself by stepping on a sharp rock.”

They strolled outside and down the road to the side path that led to the bluff, talking companionably the whole way. Lachlan told her a bit about his recent investments, and how he’d neglected them during his trip to London.

“I’m sorry I’ve seemed so distracted. It was just a matter of catching up,” he explained. He and Niles had decided she didn’t need to know about the deliberate attempt on his life. It would only worry her and, given her impulsive nature, possibly place her in danger. They didn’t want her to take it upon herself to investigate as well.

She gave him an impish little smile. “And have you caught up?”

Lachlan felt his body tighten, and he marveled at the fact that his tiny wife could arouse him with such ease.
“Quite nearly,” he said, his voice low. He caught her hand and tugged her off the path to a patch of soft grass on the hillside, a familiar haunt of yesteryear. “I used to sit for hours here and listen to the stream down below when I was a boy.”