Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (37 page)

Lucy poured strong tea for them all, then sat, stiff backed at the head of the table. "I won't apologize, for I don't see that we've done much to apologize for."

"Mother—" said James.

Leander stopped him with a gesture."Young James here sent us on a wild-goose chase back to London with his talk of diphtheria."

"I can't see as it's done you great harm, nephew. The truth is, as you'll doubtless have realized, that we wanted time. I had hopes to set things straight, or at least make head and tail of them...." Her strength wavered a little. "The truth is that I've no notion of business. How could I have, who've had her hands full of babies these twenty years?"

"True. But is my uncle so ill he cannot handle business?"

Mother and son exchanged glances. "Not in his opinion. But he's stuck in his bed, and half paralyzed, so we let him give us orders and then we do as we think best."

"What's the problem, then?" Leander asked calmly. "The house seems to be in fine shape."

"Oh yes," Lucy said bitterly, "it's in fine shape, all right. It's the only thing that is." She fixed Leander with her handsome dark eyes. "You must have found out by now that there's money missing."

"There do seem to be discrepancies...."

"Not a penny has been stolen," she said harshly. "Not a penny. It's all gone into this damn palace!"

Judith saw the woman was close to tears, and knew she wasn't someone who cried easily.

"What mother's saying," interjected James, "is that Father has been fiddling the accounts to get money for the Temple. He's let Coverley, which should be our home, and even taken a mortgage on it. And all because you wouldn't come home."

"I would have been here a week ago if you'd not interfered."

"What's a week?" the young man asked bitterly. "By then, we were desperately trying to tidy up some of Father's shady dealings."

"Shady?"

"I don't know what else you could expect," said Lucy, "when you wouldn't take up your responsibilities. We couldn't leave here until you came to take over. We weren't allowed to stop the work until it was finished. Once the old earl was dead, though, there wasn't the money to pay for it, as the income was first your father's, then yours. So my husband started altering accounts, finding ways to divert money to pay the bills
      
. Then the steward of the Cumberland estate started talking of investigations and accountings, and my Charles realized he'd messed things up so well he'd be hard-pressed to prove his honesty."

She sighed. "That was when he told me what a pickle we were in. The work was finished, so the worst of the outlay was over. We dismissed the servants, and cut back all the expenses, trying to balance the books. Then you announced you were coming, and he had the seizure. Since then, James and I have been toiling over those dratted books, trying to make them make sense, but I don't know... If I looked at them afresh, I'd swear we'd squirreled away a fortune."

Leander looked at the ceiling and shook his head. "Didn't it occur to you to just tell me about this?"

"Why should it? We didn't know you—still don't if it comes to that—and the only thing Charles knew about your father was that he was a top-lofty sort who'd run through his wife's money, and would squeeze every penny he could from the Knollis properties for his silly gallivanting. Charles fair begged his brother to come back and take this place off our hands when the old man died, but not him."

"You should have written to explain all this to me."

"But you had to be here!" exclaimed young James. "Haven't you even read the bloody will?"

Leander looked sharply at him, but his voice was level when he said, "Clearly, not carefully enough. Does it stipulate that I must live here to inherit? No one said anything of that to me."

"Not that exactly," said James more moderately. "But Father isn't allowed to leave until you come here to take over. Grandfather didn't seem to think you would, and he didn't want the place abandoned. Father was also responsible for ensuring the work in hand was finished. The penalty was that he could not receive Coverley if he did not fulfill the conditions of the will."

"But why on earth did he not tell me this? I understood that clause of the will only to mean that I must be alive to inherit, not that I had to be here. I would have come down and taken charge."

"He says he wrote to you. Do you say you never received it?"

Leander looked a little uncomfortable. "I received a letter begging me to come to the Temple. It said nothing of the will."

"So, why didn't you come?"

"I did," he admitted, "but incognito, as a visitor. You must understand, I was raised with some strange notions about this place."

"As were we all," said James bitterly. "It's swallowed up my parents' lives, and it's well on the way to swallowing up us, too."

"Not anymore," said Leander. "It's a house, no more than that. Do I understand you would be happy to move to Coverley?"

Lucy looked up with a glimmer of hope. "More than you can imagine! Do you mean you aren't going to prosecute?"

"For what? The management has been unusual, but I believe nothing has been taken. I'm only sorry this misunderstanding has cost my uncle his health. Tell me, has he loved this place as my grandfather did?"

Lucy frowned. "No, I wouldn't say that. But he's conscientious to a fault, my Charlie. He felt we couldn't leave the old man alone, and so we stayed on and helped make this place what it is. Never cared for it myself, and it always seemed a waste, but
doing it right
became the issue with him. He always thought it'd be finished soon, and then we could live a normal life. He knew he was to get Coverley and thought his father would give it him as soon as the Temple was finished. But the years dragged on and the place never was finished.... Have you any idea how hard it's been to raise ten children here?"

Judith spoke up. "But haven't you been living in the house?"

Lucy shook her head. "Lord no. Old Lord Charrington wouldn't have them around, and anyway, Temple Knollis had to be perfect, see? Every mark, every blemish, had to be repaired or replaced. The job would never have been done if the children had been allowed to run around. We have rooms in the East wall, and the children spent most of their time with the servants. Once the staff were gone, it was easier to move mostly into here."

"Oh, you poor woman. I don't know how we can ever make it up to you."

"Just take this place off our shoulders, dear." Lucy smiled. "You mustn't think it was all so bad. The children had the park to run in. They could boat and fish in the river, and they've plenty of family hereabouts. And Charles and me have had many good times. We had love, see. Well, of course you do, newly wed and all... I'm sorry though, to be offloading this place onto you. I hope you can make it a home, but I wouldn't know how to go about it."

She pushed herself up from the table. "Now, I suppose you'd better see Charles. Try not to upset him."

Leander's uncle was a fine-boned man, but looked at them with a twisted scowl. When he realized Leander meant him no harm, he relaxed and Judith could see the resemblance. His speech was unclear, and one arm was limp, but the visit seemed to brighten his eyes.

Lucy lovingly straightened his sheet. "We'll be at Coverley in days, love. How fortunate Colonel Manners just left, and we haven't replaced him. A home of our own at last."

Charles Knollis's good hand curled around his wife's and he smiled.

"Now," said Lucy to Leander, "I suppose you'll be wanting a bed for the night. There's none aired."

Leander agreed, but Judith had a frightening thought. She touched Leander's arm, and when he glanced at her she whispered. "These people clearly had nothing to do with Bastian."

His mind was on other matters. "Some madman, I suppose."

"I don't know... Leander, have we time to get back to Redoaks today?"

He looked at her sharply. She thought he might take her to task again for being overprotective, but he said, "Yes. Why don't we? I've no desire to sleep in a chilly bed. From the sounds of it, none but my grandfather's have ever been slept in at all. What a ridiculous place this is."

They arranged with Lucy for servants to be hired, and the house to be made as ready as possible for their return in a few days.

"I'll do that, nephew, and there's many hereabouts who need the work. But will it be all right for us to move into Coverley? I'd dearly love to have Christmas in our own home."

"Of course. I can understand your feelings, for I share them. I, too, want to have Christmas in my own home. I'm deeply sorry for all the problems my branch of the family has caused yours."

Lucy smiled. "Well, that's family for you, lad. I'm looking forward to having you here and meeting your wife's children."

As Judith and Leander walked back through the magnificent house, Judith thought it would certainly be a labor of Hercules to make the Temple into a home, and fill it with Christmas cheer, but she would do it for Leander. She rejoiced that he now had family of his own. Her main preoccupation, however, was to be with her children just in case the two attacks had not been random madness.

Chapter 18

They left George to help in the house, and rolled off at a brisk pace.

"I'm sure Bastian is safe," said Leander. "Nicholas will take good care of him, and there is no reason for anyone to wish him harm."

Deep in her muff, Judith's hands were clasped tight. "I know. And yet I cannot see those two attacks as chance. If some lunatic was wandering London giving children poisoned sweets, we would surely have heard of it. And for the same man to pursue Bastian, and push him in the river... Oh, Leander, I am most dreadfully afraid. Can we not go faster?"

"Not without risking an accident Try to be calm."

Judith tried, since railing at Leander was hardly fair, but her mother's instinct was screaming in a way she had never experienced before. Was it just overblown imagination, or was there a reason behind it?

Frost had rutted the roads, and as the light faded, a mist grew so thick that they could scarcely see the road in front of the horses. Leander had to slow down, rather than speed up. It took nearly four hours to return to Redoaks, and Judith was frantic. When she first saw the tall trees and the handsome house with lights glimmering though the mist, she took a deep breath of relief.

She smiled at Leander. "I fear I've been letting my imagination run away with me."

He smiled back. "I can appreciate your concern. But all our problems are over."

By the time they arrived at the door, a groom was there to take the vehicle, and Nicholas was running out to meet them.

"Lee, I'm sorry, but Bastian's disappeared."

"No!" wailed Judith.

Leander helped her into the house. "Where? When?"

"Just minutes ago," said Nicholas. "I'm raising a search, but we can't get sense yet out of Rosie."

"Let me," said Judith, and ran to where she could hear her daughter crying. She found her in the morning room, in Eleanor's arms. Eleanor looked up with concern and relief at the sight of Judith. "Judith, I'm so sorry. They were playing in here, and now he's gone. We never thought there would be danger in the house!"

Judith took Rosie. "Hush, Mama's here. You must stop wailing, Rosie, and tell us what happened to Bastian."

Rosie tried to speak through gulping sobs. All that emerged was papa and ghost.

"Ghost?" asked Judith, pushing her daughter ruthlessly away so she could look into her eyes. "There are no such things as ghosts, Rosie. This is no time for make-believe. Were you playing a game? Is Bastian hiding?"

Rosie hiccupped, and her blue eyes were immense. "But it
was,
Mama. It was papa's
ghost.
All in white like in the play. And he took Bastian, and he's dead, too, now! I
tried,
to stop him!" She burst into tears again.

Judith hugged the crying child, and looked at the others in bewildered horror.

"Forgive me, Judith," said Nicholas, "but is there any possibility that your husband is not dead?"

"None at all. He died of pneumonia, and I myself helped lay out his body."