In the Garden of Temptation (24 page)

Edna opened and closed her mouth several
times, but seemed unable to provide a coherent response. Finally,
she simply stared at her mistress, eyes wide with shock, her
stunned silence speaking eloquently for her.

Catherine shrugged impatiently. “It’s not as
though I’ve made a decision. Although it is an enticing
proposition, now especially since I know Lord Ashworth and I are
going to share a child.”

“
Have you told him?—Lord
Ashworth, I mean?”

The baroness shook her head. “I didn’t want
to say anything until I knew for certain. And it changes
everything, you know,” she said sadly. “These have been the
happiest weeks of my life. Whatever I do now, there’s bound to be
turmoil.”

The maid remained mute.

Catherine nodded her understanding. After
all, why respond to the obvious.

“
I have a premonition it is
about to begin.” She stood, her equilibrium finally
restored.

“
What do you mean, my
lady?”

“
Edgar has summoned me to
the library. Says we have some important things to discuss. His
manner was odd, and I don’t have a good feeling about
it.”

A knock at the door ended the dialogue as the
upstairs maid entered the room to remove the chamber pot, and
Catherine reluctantly began her ablutions prior to getting dressed.
She delayed the inevitable as long as she could, fussing with her
hair and fretting over which frock to wear until she could put it
off no longer. She descended the stairs shortly after the noon
hour, a lump of dread knotting her already tender belly.

The baron was waiting for her, his feet
propped on his desk, a snifter of brandy at his elbow. Her heart
dropped when she realized he was drinking, for alcohol, rather than
smoothing his rougher edges, enhanced them.

Catherine approached the desk. “You wished to
speak with me, Edgar?”

He did not acknowledge her greeting at once.
His gaze traveled in an appraising way over her figure, although
she detected nothing lewd in his manner. He brought his regard back
to her face.

“
Have a seat, my dear,” he
said quietly, his words almost kind.

She was at a loss to understand why his
gentled mood should disconcert her, but had he yelled obscenities
at her she could not have been more frightened. His attitude was
out of character, and Catherine knew she would not like what he had
to say.

He pursed his lips. “Have you enjoyed your
sojourn in the city, wife?”

“
Yes, I have, Edgar,” she
answered eagerly. “It’s been lovely. I’ve met so many interesting
people and done so many exciting things—I can’t tell you how
wonderful it’s been.”

She stopped when she realized she was
babbling nervously as though having lost control of her tongue.

“
I’m glad to hear it.” He
paused then. Why, he actually seemed uncertain.

Edging forward, Catherine perched on the end
of her seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her stomach had
begun to churn again, and she prayed he would not prolong the agony
needlessly.

Finally he said, “We’re going home.”

Here was the very thing Adam had predicted,
she thought in panic. This couldn’t be happening—not now. She
lifted her head and looked him directly in the eye.

“
I don’t think I’ll go just
yet, Edgar.”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“
I want to stay a little
longer, if you don’t mind. Summer is ending and most everyone is
coming back to the city. If I leave now, I will miss all the
excitement.”

On the surface she appeared quite calm, but
beneath the composed exterior, fright waged a fierce battle with
her courage. She was defying his authority, and she could see her
husband did not like it—not one little bit. The scowl that
transformed his face was a scary thing indeed.

The baron put his feet on the floor and,
leaning his elbows on the desk, met her gaze with a shrewd,
intelligent stare.

“
It occurs to me that your
reason for wanting to stay has more to do with someone who never
left town.”

“
You speak in riddles,
Edgar.”

But she understood perfectly what he meant.
Adam had been correct. Her husband knew the truth, and the time had
come to make a clean breast of it. Dear lord, she was going to be
ill right here on the carpet.

“
The only riddle is how you
could be so dense,” he accused acidly. “You carry on an affair for
these many weeks, and you don’t think I’m aware? You must believe
me a fool.”

“
How long have you known?”
she asked in resignation.

“
Ha! How long have I known
she asks.” He laughed aloud. “From the outset, my dear, from the
very outset.” He sobered then. “I planned it all, you
know.”

“
Planned what, Edgar? What
did you plan?” This was not what she had expected. Had he gone
daft?

“
Why, your little affair, of
course. Did you think it was your idea?” He grinned at her
maliciously.

“
My God, this is sick. Why
would you contrive such a thing?” Bile collected in her throat as
the nausea threatened to overwhelm her.

“
There’s no mystery. I need
an heir. Since I can’t get one on you myself, I had to find a
surrogate. You were not, ah…shall we say, cooperative at first, but
I knew it would take only the proper bait and you would come
around.” He sneered. “Lord Ashworth has quite a way with the
ladies, so I hear.”

“
You never told me,” she
whispered in disbelief.

“
Would you have helped
me?”

“
Never!”

“
There you have it.” He
shrugged. “I chose the only course open to me.” He leaned back in
his chair and inhaled a loud gulp of brandy. “There is a child,
isn’t there?” His attitude was now sly as he rolled the mouthful of
spirits over his tongue.

A deep down bone-chilling fear seeped into
her soul. She was horrified at the very thought of Edgar playing
father to her child. Finding it impossible to answer his question,
she posed one of her own.

“
Why is an heir so
important? You have family who can inherit.”

“
My brother,” he spat, “or
his son? I’d as soon hand over my estate to the devil
himself.”

“
The child won’t be of your
blood, Edgar. How can he inherit?”

“
Who’s to know that but you
or I?”

“
I’ll tell Adam.”

“
I wouldn’t advise that, my
dear.”

“
Perhaps I’ve already told
him,” she said.

He sighed. “It doesn’t matter, not really.
You are my wife and I own you. By virtue of that fact I own the
child you carry as well. I’m taking you home with me.”

Catherine panicked as she saw her happiness,
fragile as a silken web, dissipating before her eyes. “I’ll not
simply hand this baby over to you.”

“
You haven’t a choice. Make
no mistake, wife. The law is on my side. My decision
stands.”

“
Lord Ashworth will come
after me.”

“
It will do him no good.” He
continued to watch her, seemingly unperturbed.

“
Adam is an influential man
with many friends. You are neither of those things,” she taunted
him. “He will find a way.”

“
You put great store in his
commitment to you.” To her surprise, he held his anger. “But when
push comes to shove, you might find his will is less than you
imagined. For your sake, I hope you are not
disillusioned.”

She would be an idiot to believe he hoped
anything of the sort. She stood from her chair. “Is this all you
wanted of me?” she asked woodenly.

“
You may go. We leave in
three days,” he said in an emotionless voice.

Catherine paused in the doorway, a sudden
thought occurring to her. “Can a daughter inherit, Edgar? What if
the child is a girl?”

He sent her a humorless smile. “The child
must be male, as you well know, and perhaps,” he suggested darkly,
“it would be a good idea if you pray that nature does not
disappoint me.”

*****

Edgar stared at the door as
his wife slammed it shut.
Damn!
He had hoped it would go more smoothly than this,
he thought morosely. He hadn’t meant to let his temper get the
better of him, but as was usually the case when he dealt with his
lovely wife, wisdom was quickly forgotten. If only she would see
reason. So be it—desperate times called for desperate measures, and
he still had one trump card at his disposal. He supposed now would
be as good a time as any to put it into play.

*****

CHAPTER 9

The butler approached the guest, his
expression neutral. “Lady Ashworth says there is nothing she wishes
to discuss with you.” He reached for the doorknob to usher the man
from the premises.

Why, that spiteful harpy, the baron thought.
He should have known. He pushed the door back into place and turned
to the butler.

“
I will give your mistress
one more chance to prevent a catastrophe,” he said tightly. “Tell
her that her son is about to make the mistake of a
lifetime.”

The servant looked at Lord Bourgeault, his
indecision clear. He must have decided in the Edgar’s favor, for he
nodded at last.

“
I will try again, my
lord.”

Irritated, the baron watched the butler leave
the entry. He was used to the lack of respect he received from
society, so it came as no surprise that the countess did not offer
him a gracious welcome. Still he felt mistreated. He assumed what
he had to say was as critical to her well being as it was to his
own. Surely, she knew of the affair between Catherine and her son,
he reasoned. If the old woman’s participation were not an absolute
necessity, he would gleefully watch her interests sink like a ship
with a rotten hull.

He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited
for the servant to return. Glancing up, he found the dowager
countess herself standing on the landing above him.

Still a handsome woman, he watched her in
reluctant approval as she descended the staircase. Lady Ashworth
had been a beauty in her youth, and time had not yet robbed her of
her good looks.

She reached the entry hall and approached the
baron, her expression one of undisguised dislike. “You sent my
servant to me with some very disturbing information, Lord
Bourgeault. I’m assuming you have more than conjecture to back up
your words.”

A rush of anger seized Edgar. His hackles
stood at full mast, but to give into his ire now would ensure his
ultimate defeat. He swallowed his pride with great difficulty and
doggedly continued.

“
Wouldn’t you prefer to have
this conversation in private?” he asked ingratiatingly, and he
forced a smile that he suspected more closely resembled a toothy
grimace.

The dowager glanced at the butler, who stood
nearby, and nodded. “Ames, see we are not disturbed.”

She led the way into the parlor.

“
Don’t you think a little
refreshment would be in order, madam?” the baron posed
hopefully.

“
You’ll not be getting drunk
in my sitting room, sir,” Lady Ashworth snapped. “I’ve allowed this
meeting against my better judgment, but there will be no
socializing here.”

Forgetting his resolve to
remain unruffled, he barked back, “You are the same
Friday-faced
prude you
were thirty-five years ago. Have no idea why I thought I could have
a conversation with the likes of you.”

Much to his surprise, she laughed. “Ah, Edgar
Bourgeault, that’s the man I know and understand—not that
toad-eating fool who doesn’t have a sincere bone in his body. Come,
you have something you wish to discuss with me, and I’ll admit I
want to know what you have to say.” She sat down on the velvet
settee and pointed to the chair opposite her.

Somewhat mollified, Edgar took a seat where
she indicated, dangling large hands between his knees.

“
I believe your son is
trying to convince my wife to leave the country with
him.”

“
Do you have proof of this?”
She appeared detached.

“
My wife all but admitted
flight was being considered.”

“
Seems to me, sir, this
would be a good time to remove Lady Bourgeault from the path of
temptation,” she said coolly.

“
That has occurred to me,”
the baron conceded, “but think. Let’s say I do as you suggest and
leave London with my wife. Then I have two individuals, pining for
one another and probably plotting against me. How do you think your
son will react to your proposal?”

“
I…see your
point.”

“
When I leave with my
wife—and make no mistake, I intend to do just that—I want Catherine
to know it is over.” He paused to emphasize his next words. “I want
your son to know it as well.”

“
I suppose you also want me
to intervene on your behalf with Adam.” She eyed him
shrewdly.

“
Come, come, my lady, you
cannot be happy with the liaison between Ashworth and my wife. It
reflects badly on him, and by virtue of his connection with his
family, it reflects badly on them, also. You’re a stickler, and I’d
bet my last
sou
this situation has been lodged in your craw like a wedge.” He
lifted his brows at her, challenging her nonchalance.