Cherished Enemy (23 page)

“Nothing, really,” she faltered with a little sniff. “'Tis only that—sometimes, what he says does not … quite—ring true.”

“You are saying, I think, that the doctor is a liar.”

She reddened at this blunt statement of such a terribly damning accusation, but again nodded.

“You are a very perceptive young lady,” he said with grave calm. “I, too, have found the gentleman to be—shall we say, not quite what he seems. May I enquire as to the nature of his falsehoods?”

Agitated, she evaded, “Oh, there were several things. Nothing very substantial, I'm afraid, but sufficient to cause me to—wonder…” She gripped her hands tightly and pleaded, “Oh, I beg you, sir, tell me what you mean. Why do you think he is—'not quite what he seems'?”

Mr. Fairleigh pursed his lips, then said with commendable reluctance, “It goes against the grain with me to malign a man when I've no more proof than my own suspicions. And the worst of it is”—he gave a wry shrug—“I rather like the fellow.”

“Your scruples do you credit, sir. But do not hesitate, I beg you. Dr. Victor is a very clever gentleman who can be exceeding charming—when he so chooses!”

Fairleigh looked at this enchanting girl; the little nose held so high and disdainful, the cold but glorious eyes, the haughty droop of those luscious red lips—and hid a grin. Victor had progressed farther than he'd suspected! “I must tell you, ma'am,” he said, “that I have few real friends, and those I value exceeding high. Among them is a widowed lady I have known since childhood. She was very comfortably circumstanced at one time, but since her husband's death has suffered a sad reversal. Her spouse had been improvident, to say the least. Most of the fortune was gobbled up by claims 'gainst the estate that he had neglected for some years. Aside from a meagre competence, all she has left are a few works of art, the roof over her head, his books and papers. However, among the latter, she discovered what proved to be an original parchment—hand-written—of … the Bard.”

Rosamond breathed an awed “
Shakespeare?
Good heavens! It must be of great value! How marvellous for her.”

“Yes. If she still had it! Had I mentioned her son? Ah—well, he is a comely young rascal and the apple of her eye. She willingly entertained his friends, although she began to fear he had fallen into rather fast company. She made an appointment to take the precious page into London, where her solicitor had arranged to have an expert present who was to examine and evaluate her find. To her dismay, it proved a forgery, and upon close examination she realized the parchment was not the one she had originally found. Not once, from the time she left her home until the expert appraised it, had the parchment been out of her sight.” He shook his head regretfully. “There was only one possible conclusion to be reached. When approached in the matter, her son confessed that he had shown the precious document to one of his new friends who was spending a few days at their home, and—well, there you are!”

“Oh! How—how
infamous!
To steal from an impoverished old lady! You—you never think—
Victor
…?”

He spread his hands eloquently. “I have no proof. The name is different, but he may very well have changed it, and the description of the culprit matches his own exactly. Colouring, features, manner. Even the limp. Added to which, from a few contradictory remarks he made to me aboard the packet, I began to harbour suspicions. When he was—somewhat less than truthful about your destination, I became troubled. The man who is believed to have stolen the parchment knew of my association with the family. I had told Victor I hoped to call on you. His attempt to send me off in the wrong direction could very well have been nothing more sinister than the act of an interested and jealous man, but it dawned on me that it might also have been inspired by a quite different motive than his quite logical admiration of your lovely self. I told myself it was foolish, but—I felt I had to come. Just to be sure everything was—aboveboard, as it were. Do you see?”

Rosamond saw.

*   *   *

The sound of hurrying hammers greeted Rosamond and Fairleigh as they dismounted in front of the house and gave their reins to the stable-boy. There was no sign of Dr. Victor, but as it was almost two o'clock, at which time luncheon would be served, Rosamond thought it very likely he had already joined the family on the rear terrace. She left the new guest in Miss Seddon's capable hands and hurried to her own apartment. Her head was whirling with conjecture—all of it miserable—and she was quite glad that Addington was not waiting for her. She unbuttoned her riding habit slowly, but her mind wandered and she sat down on the bed, staring at her boot.

If Fairleigh was correct in his assumption, Victor was a merciless criminal devoid of heart or conscience, who not only stooped to blackmail, but would rob his own hostess, a lady of advanced years and impoverished circumstances. Whatever had become of her usually sound judgment, her customary ability to recognize the true character of a person, that she had been—no use denying it—greatly attracted to a man capable of such evil? Even now, knowing what he was, a part of her mind found it so hard to believe. She had heard of ladies being taken in by rogues and had always suspected they must be very silly creatures to have been so deceived. She'd never thought of herself as being a “very silly creature”—until now …

After Mr. Fairleigh had told her what he suspected, she had confided her own fears—with some necessary embellishing. She had invented an involvement between her brother and a girl of unsavoury background, and said that Victor had learned of this and now threatened to tell her father of the
affaire.
Fairleigh had been (justifiably) indignant, saying that, of all things, he most despised a blackmailer. He had reiterated, however, that they had no proofs, and had urged with the greatest vehemence that she mention her suspicions to none as yet, promising he would stay nearby and be ready to help at a moment's notice. They had agreed that she was to watch the two men and eavesdrop whenever she might safely do so, then report whatever she learned to Fairleigh.

The more she thought about it all, the more she inclined to the belief that Robert Victor was a very dangerous man, in which case they were all at risk, for who could tell what he might do to protect himself if his villainy became known? Surely, the proceeds from his sale of the parchment would be enormous and— She caught herself up with a jolt. The sale of the parchment! Was
that
his true purpose in coming here? Had he found it difficult to dispose of his ill-gotten gains and, knowing Charles to have had some experience in such nefarious matters, was forcing her brother into helping him dispose of the parchment? It would be logical enough for Charles to have shrunk from telling her the full truth. Heavens! The wretched business went from bad to worse! If only she dare lay it all before her father, but that alternative was even more frightful. While Papa would not, she was sure, betray his son, it was quite possible that Charles would be disowned and banished; that she would be forbidden ever again to see the brother she loved so dearly. A lump rose in her throat. That would surely break her heart. And very likely Papa's also.

Addington came hurrying in and Rosamond managed to assume a calm manner. When she went downstairs again, hoots of male laughter could be heard. Miss Seddon hurried from the kitchen, carrying a platter of cold meats. Luncheon, it appeared, was to be al fresco, but the gentlemen were at present gathered in the billiard room.

“They sound cheerful,” observed Rosamond, as another burst of hilarity rang out.

“The colonel's taken a proper liking to Mr. Fairleigh,” said the housekeeper, pausing and resting her burden on the post at the foot of the stairs. It was as well, she added, for the master's mind to be turned from Mrs. Estelle's “puppy.” “For your father nigh drove poor Mr. Charles curdle-brained all morning with his descriptions of what he was going to do to that little rascal!”

“Oh, dear. Where is Trifle now?”

“At the stables, I fancy, miss. Dr. Victor didn't bring him back in, at all events, and Mrs. Estelle is gone down there.”

It would be quite typical of her aunt to bring The Unmitigated back to the house, which must be disastrous, wherefore Rosamond hurried into the sunshine once more and made her way to the stable-yard.

The hammers were busier than ever, and upon entering the cool dimness of the barn she discovered their gardener and groom busily engaged upon constructing what appeared to be a dog kennel. Her aunt, holding Trifle's leash, stood watching these endeavours and giggling over some remark made by the treacherous physician. Rosamond had not expected him to be out here and, momentarily panicking, she started to retreat. Victor's back was towards her, but he turned as Estelle called a greeting and Trifle began to leap and bound about, yapping excitedly, so that Rosamond had no alternative but to join them.

She saw at once that the doctor's bruises had been augmented; she was quite sure that the puffy graze adorning his left cheek-bone had not been there this morning. Some public-spirited individual had struck him. Was it possible that Roland Fairleigh had taken matters into his own hands…? Her heart began to pound rapidly, but she had no time for further conjecture, her aunt calling to her to come and see the “lovely little house Dr. Robert has designed for my naughty baby dog!”

‘Dr.
Robert?
' thought Rosamond, irritated, but she went dutifully to view the structure. Managing to ignore the welcoming smile the physician bestowed on her, she asked, “Is he to be kept in there all the time?”

“Gad no, ma'am,” said Victor. “He'll be provided a long chain so that he can run about, but in bad weather he'll be able to pop inside.”

“It does not look very large,” she demurred.

“I'd not thought he rated a mansion,” he said drily. “And of a certainty 'tis more accommodating than the hole in the ground your papa had in mind for him! However, if you think he has a taste for Ionic columns…”

Estelle laughed merrily. “If he has, 'twould be
literally,
a taste! What do you think, Rosa? What do you think? Shall it appease my incensed brother-in-law?”

The carpenters pro tem ceased their labours and everybody watched her and waited expectantly.

All too conscious of Victor's searching gaze, Rosamond, who privately thought the little house an excellent notion, pursed up her lips and said dubiously that it
might
serve, but they had better find a very heavy chain.

Victor sighed, and looked crestfallen.

Surprised by this unappreciative reaction from a girl who was usually the epitome of kindness, Estelle remonstrated, “Really, my love, I thought 'twas well done in Dr. Robert to have found me such a nice solution.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” said Victor, smiling at her. “I've seldom had the opportunity to be of service to so gracious a lady.”

“Then you've had two such opportunities,” she responded. “On the vessel you were most assuredly of service to my dear niece, do not forget.”

“To be of help to a lady in distress was my very great pleasure, Mrs. Estelle. And while, for Miss Rosamond's sake, I wish the incident might not have occurred, it has given me a memory I am never likely to forget.”

Knowing her face was scarlet, Rosamond turned away.

“Ah!” said Mrs. Estelle, beaming at him. “You've a silver tongue, sir! A silver tongue. Do you not agree, my love?”

“A silver tongue indeed,” said Rosamond, and thought, ‘And forked at the end!'

10

Rosamond had changed into a gown of palest primrose muslin, the underdress of white, with tiers of satin-edged scallops, miniatures of which edged the low neckline and the camisole sleeves. She had not powdered her hair, which was gathered into clusters of ringlets beside each ear. Her only jewellery was a very old pendant which had belonged to her grandmother. It was an interesting piece fashioned of narrow gold plates whereon were carven strange symbols and hieroglyphics, and, descending from the center, a golden rectangle inset with a fine piece of clear pale topaz. Addington had told her in an awed way that she looked “fair beautiful,” and that the gentlemen echoed this sentiment was evidenced by their eyes as she came to greet them.

Her father said proudly that his little puss looked “very nice”; Mr. Fairleigh bowed low and commended the colonel upon his choice of daughters, and Dr. Victor, eyes glued to the general area of her pendant, murmured that she put the mademoiselles to shame. Her own eyes turned to her brother and she gave a gasp. There was a dark bruise beside Charles's mouth and his lip was split. He gave her a rather shamefaced look, and her father uttered a short bark of laughter.

“Your brother indulged in some horseplay with the doctor,” he said, and added a blighting “which he got the worst of, naturally enough, for all he's a head taller and Victor handicapped by a cut in his arm!”

Charles flushed but was silent.

“Sir, it may appear so to you, but”— Victor touched his cheek gingerly—“this feels not so trival, I assure you!”

“What a fellow you are,” laughed Fairleigh. “First you engage in fisticuffs with the ship's surgeon, and now—a clergyman! I only hope a peace-loving fellow such as myself may be safe from your sanguinary inclinations!”

Victor was spared a response when Mrs. Porchester joined them, apologizing for her tardiness and remarking that it was so agreeable to have the company of two extra gentlemen for luncheon.

The colonel offered his arm to his sister-in-law and led the way onto the terrace.

Victor paused, surveying the scene with admiration, an emotion Rosamond thought might for once be genuine, since it was indeed a fair prospect. The terrace followed the inward curve of the house and was edged by a low balustrade inset at intervals with large plaster urns containing brightly blooming flowers. Broad steps led down to the rear drive-path, and beyond was the emerald sweep of lawns dotted here and there by clusters of silver birch trees or the stately might of oaks. To the left was the garden pavilion. In the centre of the lawn and closer to the house than the pavilion, a small pool was adorned by delicately hued water-lilies, and off to the right, bordered by hedges and small trees, were more flower-beds and the prized rose garden.