Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman (24 page)

Chapter 24

The late afternoon sun touched the tops of the trees above Landings’ Manor with a golden hue, but Laurel couldn’t dredge up a single bit of appreciation for the sight. She recalled the worst years of her life had been spent inside those walls. Two weeks of bliss with her new husband had dissolved into total hell after he left to join the troops in Spain. A few weeks together had not been worth the battles she’d had to face with her new sister-in-law. But that was in the past. This time she intended to fight from a position of strength.

The duke’s carriage rolled to a stop and she allowed a sigh to escape. Squaring her shoulders, she descended and reached for Jamie. The house seemed strangely silent and the door remained shut even after she rapped repeatedly. Handing Jamie to the maid, she used her key. Her traveling boots echoed against the polished floor of the entrance, the only discernible sound in the hall. She glanced around expectantly but much to her displeasure, no servant appeared.

“Take Jamie to the nursery. I’ll ring for tea to be brought up.”

Laurel gazed into the parlor where a faint scent of beeswax and lemon lingered. No later than yesterday a maid had attended to her duties, waxing and dusting the furniture so Laurel failed to understand the absence of a servant now. She pulled the bell cord. After removing her cloak and hat, she absently fluffed the flattened tresses with her fingers but quickly abandoned the effort. Exasperated, she clicked her tongue at the long minutes she remained unattended.

Finally a young woman enveloped in a large apron with brown hair twisted on top of her head, timidly shuffled into the room and bobbed a curtsy. “Your Ladyship.”

“Where are the others? Your aunt, isn’t she the cook?”

The servant nodded. “But Lady Rhonda, she let her go. Her and all the others. Only her personal maid is left.”

Laurel raised her brows. “Why didn’t she dismiss you as well?”

“Needs a body to cook.” She shrugged. “Lady Rhonda don’t give no reasons to us servants.”

“Indeed!” Indignation rolled over Laurel and she scowled, however she couldn’t prevent her hands from trembling at the thought of a confrontation with Rhonda. Laurel needed time to collect herself, to assume a confident façade first, but however hard the doing, she intended to take charge. She swallowed.

“Where is Lady Rhonda?”

“Out riding with Mr. Dimty.”

“You’ve been most helpful.” Laurel nodded her approval and gifted the young woman with a reassuring smile. “I shall expect dinner to be served promptly at seven o’clock. Jamie is in the nursery and he’ll require a little nourishment as soon as you can arrange it.”

“But, Your Ladyship—Lady Rhonda is expecting—”

Laurel interrupted, “I’m Lady Laningham, the mistress of Landings and the person that will or will not authorize payment to you. Do you understand?”

Her stern treatment of the servant left a nasty taste in her mouth but if she didn’t assert herself with a servant, she had no hope of conquering her sister-in-law.
That was a laugh
. All she wanted was to emerge with a whole skin—and in charge.

The servant dipped a curtsy and with slumped shoulders, left the room. Laurel quickly mounted the stairs to change her apparel and straighten her hair. She needed every ounce of confidence a flawless appearance could give when she came to grips with Rhonda. Laurel had been under her sister-in-law’s thumb for so long, defying her would be hard even with her churning anger to spur her on.

Opening the door to her chamber, she stepped inside and sank into the overstuffed chair beside the fireplace. The fragrance of roses washed over her and the memory of escaping to her room, to her sanctuary here at Landings soothed her frayed nerves. Everything had gone awry with her life from Robert onward. Her hopes of a future with Adron were dashed and she must put her dreams behind her. This was her place now and she intended to make the best of her situation. For a brief moment she allowed her head to rest against the back of the cushion. Her lids grew heavy and drifted down.

She woke with a start and had no idea how long she’d napped but the chamber had darkened considerably. Steps light enough to belong to a female rushed up the stairs. Laurel jerked to her feet, smoothing her crumpled gown with her fingers before she got herself in hand. Now was not the time to challenge her sister-in-law, not with her hair in disarray and dressed in a wrinkled, soiled traveling gown. The confrontation would wait until she had equipped herself both inside and out.

After a quick wash she leisurely pulled on a silk gown, much too formal for a country dinner, but she needed the boost to her morale the blue-watered silk would lend her. She arranged her hair, glanced at the clock on the mantel and entered the hallway.

Rhonda halted on the landing to rake Laurel from head to toe with a contemptuous glare. “So Adron finally kicked you out. He did kick you out didn’t he?” She laughed. “Of course he did or you’d still be at Kendlewood mooning over him.”

Although Laurel quaked inside, she returned Rhonda’s disdain with a level stare of her own. She forced her voice to remain calm, if a little lower, in order to force back a high-pitched scream of rage. “I’ve returned to my rightful place, mistress of Landings. I must add you’ve overstepped your bounds, Rhonda. Dismissing the servants or hiring another is no longer in your purview. Henceforth all household matters will be overseen by me.”

Rhonda drew herself up and her words where sputtered out. “Why you . . . you . . .”

“You don’t know how many times I’ve had the same thoughts about you.” Frost invaded Laurel’s smile.

“I didn’t come for your charity. I came to collect my possessions before you lay claim to my things.”

“Fine. However, there is an inventory list and every item on that list belongs to the household, not you. Your clothes, jewelry not listed and any special gift must be verified before one piece leaves here.”

Percy mounted the stairs and stopped short. “I couldn’t help overhearing a mention of Rhonda’s possessions. Even you will admit she has every right to her things.”

“By all means, she has a perfect right to all of her own things but no more,” Laurel said. “Jamie is entitled to everything except her personal jewelry and clothes. I’m sure a few sentimental pieces will be allowed since Lord Gladrey is Jamie’s guardian.”

With a rustle of skirts, Rhonda whirled passed Laurel and stomped down the stairs. She paused and glanced up at Laurel. “Robert left
me
in charge.”

“But that changed with the new Will. You have no say in any matter concerning the estate now or in the future,” Laurel pointed out.

Rhonda raised her chin. “Percy, are you going to just stand there? Do something.”

“You have an inflated sense of his authority. Percy is easily replaced.” Laurel paused for effect and when he remained silent, she continued, “If he’s fortunate, he’ll not be called to account for his stewardship of the estate both before and after Robert’s death.”

Laurel leveled a look in his direction, but he remained silent with a downcast, sulky expression. Inside, she trembled at her own audacity, however, she was determined to finish what she had started. “And, Rhonda, you need my permission to remain in this house. I know how dear this place is to you. That’s the main reason I offered to allow you to stay but you will not countermand a single order that I give.”

Rhonda’s back stiffened. “I can’t wait to gather my things and be shed of this place. I should be gone in a few days.” She hunched a shoulder at Percy and descended the stairs. He quickly followed.

Laurel let out a deep breath, glad that was over. Smiling in satisfaction, she lifted her shoulders and dusted her hands. That had gone rather well, she thought. Sitting the house in order was her next challenge, and she intended to reinstate the staff as soon as possible. With a light heart, she ran down the stairs.

Rhonda paced across the carpet in the front parlor. Wringing her hands, she turned to face Percy. “Why didn’t you do something, say something?”

He lifted his hands and moved closer to her. “What would you have me say?”

She stopped in her pacing and wrinkled her nose. “You smell of horse.”

“I apologize for coming to you in all my dirt but I heard you arguing with her. I thought to lend you my support.”

“Your support, ha.” Rhonda glared at him. “Fat lot of good that did.”

“Rhonda, be reasonable. What could I do?”

Rhonda absently picked up a shepherdess figurine and gaze at the statue. “Everything belongs to that little upstart and her brat now.” Gritting her teeth, she deliberately opened her fingers. The ornament crashed to the floor. “Oops. What a stupid accident.” Rhonda swept her skirt aside and stared down at the broken pieces. “How clumsy of me.”

“Rhonda, I know you’re upset but you’ll only put up her back if you continue in this fashion and all else might fail.”

“But you heard how she talked to me—as if I were answerable to her as a mere sister-in-law and not the daughter of the house. Unacceptable.”

The disgruntled look he gave her spoke volumes. “Remember, we decided to replace the jewels with paste replicas because most of the jewelry is entailed. We were saving everything for a new generation of true Laninghams from your line.”

“But Landings,” she wailed. “It’s not fair that Robert inherited Landings.”

“A sorry state of affairs I must say but Landings is entailed.” He sighed.

Rhonda stomped her foot and placed her hands on her hips. “Surely we could circumvent the Will in some manner or even the entail.”

“A daughter cannot break the entailment because there are male descendants and since Lord Gladrey has the Will, there is nothing I can do. If you recall, you still have the jewels. That was your main objective at the time.”

Oather Dimty strolled into the parlor. “Very good, Percy.”

“What are you doing here, Uncle?”

Oather glanced around and frowned without answering. “Where’s the other one?”

“Lady Laningham is about somewhere,” Percy answered. “But why are you here? I thought surely you’d be on your way out of the country.”

“I don’t have time to waste. I must make tracks but first I want the blue diamond and I want it now. The pendant is my payment for services done and you can just get it out of your noggin that I might leave without that stone. You owe it to me.”

“What are you saying?” Rhonda stammered.

Oather whirled toward her. “The blue diamond. Been searching high and low for the damn thing. I thought all would be yours once Lord Laningham succumbed to his illness.” He chortled, deep and long. “Percy brought you in on this deal because he thought you would wind up with the pendant in the end.”

“Wait a minute. It wasn’t like that,” Percy denied and took a step toward Rhonda with a hand extended.

Oather continued without so much as a glance at his nephew. “But all you was after was the estate jewelry because you hated your sister-in-law. Not wanting her to have the diamond, I thought sure you’d come around when I done away with your brother, but you be a dead loss.”

“You killed, Robert?” she gasped and her trembling hand rested against her throat. “You murdered my brother?”

“No sense in play acting about his death at this late date. You was quick to take what was his afore he died. You wouldn’t be knowing where the diamond is now would you?”

She leaped at him and began to pound his chest. “You murderer.”

Shoving her back, Oather slapped her face.

“Rhonda, calm yourself,” Percy begged.

Loud voices erupted from the parlor. Laurel recognized Rhonda’s, certainly and possibly Percy, but the other voice—who? Her breath caught in her throat. It couldn’t be Oather Dimty. He was in prison miles away in London. Her heart drummed against her ribs, but she stepped quietly forward all the same, her slippers making little sound. Staying half concealed, she peered inside the room.

“He killed my brother,” Rhonda screamed, grabbed a letter opener and started after Oather again.

Laurel’s heart nearly failed her at those words and her head began to swim. Having it confirmed that Oather had actually murdered Robert swamped her with fear and she watched in horrified fascination as Rhonda attack the murderer.

Oather wrenched the dagger from her fingers and sank the sharp blade deep into her shoulder. “Little bitch.”

Percy jumped at his uncle and caught his arm. “Are you insane? She’s not some scullery maid. She’s a lady.”

“So. I done away with her brother and he was a lord,” Oather bragged and shook Percy loose. “No need to panic. I’m fixing everything.” He drew his pistol and without flinching, shot Percy in the chest. With a totally blank expression, he watched his nephew fall to the floor and calmly pocketed his pistol. He addressed Percy’s lifeless form, “Now for the other one. I’ll find her and then I’ll have the diamond. No henchmen about to save her this time.” He laughed. “Nobody here but one little dab of a female in the kitchen.”

Transfixed, Laurel stood frozen in the threshold, but his words broke her paralysis and almost unable to comprehend what had happened, she stared at the spreading pool of blood around Percy’s still form. At a soft moan, Laurel’s gaze snapped to Rhonda. The front of her gown was soaked with blood and her eyes were closed. Rhonda was deathly pale and although she was nearly under Oather’s feet, he completely ignored the groan. He seemed oblivious to all else outside his insane desire for the blue diamond. Laurel’s eyes collided with his hate filled gaze. Fear raised the roots of her hair on the back of her neck. She turned to flee.