Fated Folly (21 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Bailey

Tags: #historical romance, #regency romance, #clean romance, #romance novel, #sweet romance, #traditional romance, #sweet reads

BOOK: Fated Folly
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Clare heard some incoherent murmur from the woman, but her thoughts drowned out the words. What kind of devil was he, thus to taunt them both? Her fingers came up to grasp his wrist and she wrenched his hand away, tugging herself out of his hold. But before she could speak, a startled shriek interrupted them.

‘
Oh, my goodness,' cried Miss Flimwell, standing stock still in the doorway to the hall, her hands over her mouth, staring in horror at Biddy Arksey.

‘
Oh drat,' Clare said wearily. Berinthia had ruined it now. All her effort not to let Ashendon win had gone for nothing.

‘
Have you taken leave of your senses, Biddy?' cried Berinthia Flimwell on a high note of hysteria, running into the room. ‘What do you think you are doing?'

Mrs Arksey looked from her to Ashendon's smug expression, and thence to Clare's face.

‘
She knew,' uttered the woman, her lips trembling. ‘Oh, lordy, lordy, she knew.'

‘
Well, she does now,' Ashendon said in a satisfied tone.

Biddy Arksey turned on him, her cheeks flushing with colour. ‘Oh, you're a wicked knave, Lord Ashendon, you are. Think shame to yourself! And you deceived me.' Her eyes came about and she moved to Clare, real apology in her frank gaze. ‘I'm that sorry, ma'am. I'd no idea, you see. Couldn't for my life think you'd know anything at all. Lordy, lordy, but I'm that shamed, ma'am. I just—I just wanted to see you. He told me Rupert—Sir Rupert—were out for the day. I didn't think as there'd be any harm.'

‘
You stupid creature,' broke in Miss Flimwell in a scolding voice. ‘No harm? How could you even think—?'

‘
Don't, Berinthia,' Clare interrupted impatiently. ‘What is the use of recriminations now?' She looked back at her rival, and her lips hovered on a smile. ‘I cannot think that Rupert would wish us to—to meet, Mrs Arksey. But we are both in—in some sort victims here.' An odd little sound between a giggle and a sob escaped her. ‘Victims with a common interest. I think—' her voice strengthening as she turned to the perpetrator of this cruel trick and saw his satisfaction waning a trifle ‘—I think we will not let ourselves be discomposed by him.' She looked back at Biddy, but her words were for Ashendon's benefit. ‘I tell you now, nothing is changed by this for me. I care for Rupert, and must always do so, no matter what.'

There was a brief pause. Then Mrs Arksey stepped forward, and Clare saw that tears stood in her eyes.

‘
Bravo, lass!' Then she cast a fulminating glance at Ashendon's face, and ran out of the room.

‘
Oh, goodness,' uttered Miss Flimwell. She resorted to her handkerchief and loudly blew her nose, saying huskily, ‘I think you had better go, too, Lord Ashendon. If Rupert should find you here—'

‘
He is going nowhere for the present,' Clare interjected, turning now to confront him.

‘
Oh, a formidable sight,' Ashendon said with a scornful laugh, folding his arms. ‘Ready for battle, are you, Cousin Clare?'

‘
Oh no! Oh dear,' burst from Berinthia, as her agitated gaze went from one to the other. Muttering something under her breath about seeing Mrs Arksey off the premises, she made for the door.

Clare scarcely noticed her leave. Fire in her breast, she faced Ashendon tensely. ‘What is it I have done to you, Ash? Why so vindictive? And that poor woman! How could you? Do you care nothing for anyone's pain?'

‘
Good God, cousin, would you waste your compassion on a harlot?'

‘
What she is has nothing to do with it. You had no cause to use her so.'

‘
Why this sudden turnabout, Clare?' he jeered. ‘Do you imagine you have won him away from her?'

Clare's eyes flashed. ‘Yes, that is what you wished to do, is it not? Create rivalry between us, and so thrust a wedge between Rupert and I. Well, you have failed, cousin. Whatever scheme your evil mind may dream up, know now that you are wasting your time.'

‘
Am I?' His eyes narrowed. ‘Am I indeed?'

‘
Do you wish to know why?' Clare asked, her voice shaking. ‘Because Rupert could never sink so low as you, you hateful wretch. But if he did, if he were to stoop to the basest level known to man, I would still love him. Now do you understand?'

An ugly sneer curled Ashendon's lip, and his green eyes shone with a malevolent light.

‘
Even if you knew him for a murderer?'

Clare gasped out and her bravado crumpled. ‘
What?
'

From somewhere dark and painful, Clare saw Ashendon's triumph, but she was incapable of covering her distress.

‘
To be more accurate, a would-be murderer.'

‘
You—' Clare licked her dry lips, and croaked her accusation. ‘You are making it up.'

His sneer became a smile, not pleasant. ‘This once, you may rest assured that I am not.'

‘
But—but who?'

‘
My father.'

‘
Your father?' echoed Clare incredulously, and suddenly the dreadful faintness was receding. ‘But Rupert adores your father.'

‘
Oh yes, that is what everyone has been led to believe. He plays it so well,' Ashendon said, venom in his tone.

Clare gazed at him. ‘You are mad.'

‘
You would say so, of course. Love, they say, is blind.' His eyes blazed suddenly. ‘So is my father. And that, Lady Wolverley, is directly attributable to the ambitious machinations of your beloved husband.'

Clare backed from him, frightened by the depth of his hatred. Exposed now, malignant and horrible to behold.

Ashendon followed her, closing in, his voice soft, but intense. ‘There was a day in the forest, long ago. Two men went out on a walk, they say. Two men, both whole. Both vital and young.' He paused, black loathing in his eyes. His voice went softer still with menace. ‘Two men returned, they say. One still whole. Still vital and young. The other—' drawing a breath and hissing the word into Clare's face ‘—sightless, and with his memory gone.'

Clare, backed up against the sofa, sank slowly down as her trembling knees gave way. ‘Oh no,' she whispered. ‘Oh no.'

Ashendon regarded her horror-filled countenance for a moment in silence. Then, with a shrug, as if he threw off the memories he had himself evoked, he turned and strode to the door. Stopping there, he glanced back at her.

‘
Now how is your vaunted love, cousin? Still intact? Try if you can rid your mind of all suspicion. Few others could. Including your predecessor.' He laughed derisively. ‘She, too, loved him.'

***

 

‘
You have not seen her?' Rupert asked, disquieted somewhat by Miss Flimwell's evasive manner. She was always nervous of him,God knew why. But then she was the high-strung type. This was excessive, however. ‘Come, Berinthia, what is amiss?'

‘
Goodness, nothing at all,' exclaimed the woman, her voice jumping, and her eyes sliding away from his searching regard.

Rupert had come back from his long sleep a good deal refreshed, if a trifle pale still. The headache lingered only slightly, and after he had washed and shaved, donning fresh linen under his dark frock-coat, he felt much more himself as he came down to partake of a late luncheon.

But only Berinthia joined him in the dining room, where a light collation had been laid at his order. A Berinthia, moreover, who jumped visibly at sight of her cousin, went pink to the tip of her nose, and answered his mild enquiry about his wife's whereabouts with a high-pitched, self-conscious titter, and a negative response.

‘
Berinthia, I am not a fool,' he said gently, leaning towards her from his place at the head of the table where she sat close at one side, for by Clare's orders only three covers were laid, all at one end, on occasions of such informality. ‘It is obvious that something has occurred, and even more obvious that you are reluctant—if you will forgive me?—to tell me of it.'

‘
But I assure you, dear Rupert—'

‘
Your assurance lacks conviction, Berinthia,' he said. ‘Where is Clare?'

‘
But, indeed, I do not know. She—she ordered the landaulet. Oh, more than an hour ago.'

Rupert eyed her, his disquiet increasing. She might not know where Clare had gone, but she certainly knew why. He would have to be an “ogre”, he decided, with a fleeting warmth at his heart as Clare's voice echoed in his head.

‘
Berinthia, you are not being truthful with me,' he said sternly. ‘Tell me at once what has been happening here.'

The woman shrank back in her chair, her face puckering. ‘Oh dear, oh dear, I knew I would not deceive you.' She added almost under her breath. ‘And I promised.'

‘
If you knew it, why the devil did you try to do it?' Rupert snapped. He frowned. ‘To whom did you promise? Clare?'

Berinthia's colour deepened. ‘No, no, I—oh dear.'

Exasperated, Rupert threw up his eyes. ‘God in heaven, for the last time—'

‘
It was Lord Ashendon's fault,' she said quickly, dissolving into tears.

‘
The devil take that boy! What has he done now?'

‘
You will not like it,' warned Berinthia, sniffing into her handkerchief.

‘
Of that I am already aware. Go on.'

‘
He—he came here,' Miss Flimwell said, dread in her voice. ‘With—with Mrs Arksey.'

For a moment Rupert just sat there taking it in. Then he drew a ragged breath, and sighed it out heavily.

‘
Is there no limit?' He closed his eyes briefly. ‘What happened?'

‘
I—I hardly know,' Berinthia fluttered, clearly relieved that no explosion had greeted her disclosure. ‘I was so shocked when I came in and found them together, all three, that—'

‘
Clare saw her, then?'

‘
Indeed she did, but—' Berinthia leaned in, eager now. ‘She behaved so beautifully, Rupert. She had realised what was intended, and—and that poor Biddy had been herself deceived. She said—' her eyes beginning to water again and her voice thickening ‘—that she would not change towards you because of it. She cares for you, Rupert. It was so very touching.'

Rupert was silent. Berinthia was bound to take a sentimental view of the matter. Did she imagine that Clare had been hurt any the less? Ashendon had gone his length. This he would not allow to pass. But he must see Biddy first. He would have to end it now. He could do no less. Whatever might happen in the future between himself and Clare, that particular pain must no longer be permitted to disturb her. And only he could make certain that it did not.

‘
You have no idea at all where she might have gone, then?' he asked, laying aside his plate.

‘
She did not say,' she answered, adding, ‘I did think she might have gone after Biddy, for she was—'

‘
Oh, my God, no.'

Rupert pushed back his chair and stood up, as his cousin half-rose herself, faltering, ‘Are you—do you mean to—?'

‘
I am going to Biddy, yes.'

‘
Oh, don't,' cried Berinithia, half putting out a hand. ‘She begged me to—'

‘
Say nothing?' Rupert finished. ‘I'll warrant she did. She should have known better. Don't disturb yourself. If you had not told me, I would have heard of it from Clare soon enough.'

‘
Oh, I don't think she would say anything of it to you.'

Rupert uttered a short laugh. ‘You don't know her, Berinthia. Besides, she could not hide it from me if there was something amiss. With luck I will save her the trouble.'

He moved towards the door and turned there to his cousin, who was half following him. ‘If Clare should come back in the meanwhile—' No, that was not a message he wanted relayed by any other mouth than his own. ‘You had better say nothing at all. I shall be back soon enough.'

Then he left the room, shouting for Brookland to order his curricle to be brought round to the front door, and ran up the stairs to his bedchamber to don suitable garb.

***

 

‘
Please tell me the truth. I can bear anything, only as long as I know.'

Blanche Dearham squeezed Clare's hand. ‘My dear, only Rupert knows the truth. In this case, faith is all any of us who care about him have to go on.'

‘
Well, you do not imagine I believe, for an instant, what Ashendon thinks,' objected Clare indignantly.

‘
I am quite sure you do not,' Blanche said, smiling.

Clare turned from her on the sofa where they sat together in the cosy parlour, and withdrawing her hand, brought both palms up to press them tiredly against her eyes for a moment.

‘
Something happened,' she said wearily. ‘At first I tried to think it was just one of Ash's vile schemes again. But I remembered that he spoke of it—oh, long ago. Before there was any thought of—of marriage with Rupert. But even then, he said it to put me against him.'

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