Lisbon: Richard and Rose, Book 8 (21 page)

“If matters were reversed between Gervase and me, I wouldn’t resent him.” From what he’d told me in the past, he’d have welcomed it. Richard hadn’t wanted the responsibilities of the older son.

“But not all brothers feel that way,” I said gently.

A smile flickered across his mouth. “No indeed.”

“But to be replaced, and by the son of a foreigner, wouldn’t he think he had cause?” I asked. Paul’s English mother lived in her home country these days. Paul had spoken more than once of the affection his parents held for each other, so it had puzzled me that she hadn’t spoken of Joaquin before. But a different mother, and a respectably born one, might give her pause. She was a pleasant woman, though not an overpoweringly intellectual one or one given to much independence of thought. She would have accepted the status quo, if her husband had demanded it.

Richard frowned, putting one finger to his lips and pressing. The soft flesh formed a dimple, and I knew a need to touch him there. My body came on full alert, and I yearned to feel his on mine, over mine, in mine. My thighs dampened and my body longed for him. Not something I had planned, but something that happened nonetheless. An instant, unconsidered response that I did my best to quell as soon as it had arisen.

He looked up and caught me gazing at him with desire in my eyes. Too much to hope that I concealed it in time, although I returned my attention to the papers still in my hands, making a pretence of straightening the edges. I cringed inwardly. I had just made him feel worse. How could I do such a thing to him? The thought of what we could do in isolation had brought images to my mind that had nothing to do with the conversation and everything to do with my constant desire for him. A desire he couldn’t fulfil.

I wet my suddenly dry lips and hastened to move the ostensible discussion on. “We should receive a summons to court shortly. If the Portuguese court is like the English and more especially the French, it lives on gossip. We’ll hear all we need to know and more there.”

“Indeed, ma’am. And until then, you should rest and restore your spirits.” Carier wasn’t just talking to me. He knew something wasn’t right between Richard and me. He might even suspect what it was, given that we had spent some time sleeping apart. We should once more be presenting a united front against the world, but there were cracks in the façade, something I was trying desperately to mend.

“So,” Richard said, as if the uncomfortable moment hadn’t occurred, “Joaquin’s mother was under the apprehension that she was married to his father, but his father later proved she was not, or someone paid to have it proved. Did her family have any influence?”

Carier shook his head. “She was a daughter of a hidalgo of great renown and little money. A soldier. Because her father was a national hero at the time, the late marquês married her. I don’t know in what way the marriage was irregular, but there are many ways for an influential Catholic gentleman to obtain an annulment. An acknowledgement that the marriage wasn’t valid and therefore the children of the marriage are illegitimate.” He paused. “They can also be reversed, for a price.”

I’d heard of such things but never encountered them in practice. “Why did he change his mind so soon after the marriage?”

Carier’s voice turned softer, regretful. “It became an unfortunate marriage. The lady had given birth to Joaquin, and one other, a baby who died shortly after birth. The couple argued and then the lady’s father retired and lost his fortune in unwise speculations. One of the servants, the head housemaid, remembers the arguments between them. She became a shrew. Then the marquês travelled to England and met Paul’s mother. He fell deeply in love with her and determined to make it possible to marry her.”

I sighed. “What an unfortunate series of events. And how sad for everyone involved. Is the first wife still alive?”

Carier shook his head. “She died of the smallpox fifteen years ago.”

What a sad tangle.

“The marquês accepted Joaquin into the household after her death and acknowledged him as his bastard.”

“A kind act that could have added to the older son’s resentment.” Richard pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “And since the marquêsa has never mentioned him, I presume she resented him or merely cut him out of her life. So to get back to the immediate point, Joaquin had cause to put the poison on the lemon cream. Or had someone else do it.”

“To harm Lizzie, or at the least rid her of the child she might be carrying by making her ill. But she has a boy already.” I frowned.

“Easier to get rid of the baby with the mother gone. Children die all the time.” Carier cut his words off abruptly, the knowledge of what he’d said urgent in his eyes. “I beg your pardon, my lord, my lady.”

“Nothing to forgive when you speak the truth.” Richard leaned back and sighed. “What is set aside can sometimes be reinstated, if there is no impediment like a living heir. Or sometimes a court will reinstate a title in another person. So while, as matters stand, Joaquin could not inherit, he could be invested with the title after the death of his widowed brother. What if Paul confided in him that he and Lizzie thought they were pregnant again? What if Joaquin decided to rid himself of a problem before it became worse?”

“We cannot forget that. But we must remember that there are two suspects,” I said. “At least. Barber could be a tool of Joaquin, just as much as he could be one of John Kneller’s minions.”

In the short silence the very air tensed, as if it would snap. Richard broke it.

“We are isolated here. If the danger comes from inside the house, not outside, we might be better in a place we can guard more securely. Somewhere we have ultimate jurisdiction over the comings and goings. While we did not suspect anyone inside the house, I felt reasonably secure here, but these new revelations give Joaquin a stronger motive to rid himself of his sister-in-law and her child, or children. If his mother brought him up to resent Paul, as appears likely given her history, it would strengthen his determination to become the next Marquês de Aljubarrotta.”

He got to his feet. “Above all, my love, I want you and our children safe.” I knew what he meant. He wanted men of his own choosing in place to ensure our safety. His next words confirmed my suspicion. He glanced at Carier. “I want to send you ahead to the house in town to ascertain everything is in place. It may become necessary for us to remove there sooner than we thought. We may staff a smaller establishment with people entirely of our choosing. I won’t leave Rose alone in the house with someone we suspect of murder.”

“What about Lizzie? We can’t leave her here, surely?” I put in.

“She may come with us, and bring young Paul with her,” Richard said.

I nodded.

Carier scratched his pate, leaving his wig slightly askew when he drew his hand away. “I’ll make sure the Lisbon house is staffed with Thompson’s people, my lord. We brought some with us, and I’ll discover others.”

“In Portugal?” I asked.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Richard smiled. “Yes, my love, even in Portugal. We will manage and I will have you and our children properly protected. Perhaps then I can sleep at night.”

And maybe he could make love again.

Chapter Thirteen

At dinner he didn’t broach the subject of our removal to town, or the possible danger that remained here, even though every forkful of food that I brought to my lips came under his close scrutiny. He took care to have a glass of wine from the same decanter I used, and sipped it before I had any from my own glass.

His anxiety was almost palpable, and I couldn’t do anything to dissipate it. Except to allow him to take control, for his own sake, if not for mine. I hated the necessity, but I had learned that sometimes it was best to give way while at other times taking a firm stance was more acceptable. If anyone had told me that before I’d met the fascinating, complex person I married, I’d have laughed them to scorn.

Lizzie noticed, but Paul did not. After dinner Lizzie and I went to the drawing room alone, and Joaquin excused himself, saying he had some business letters to write, while Richard stayed with Paul, probably to broach the subject of leaving. I tackled Lizzie.

“We’d like to spend some time in Lisbon, Lizzie. We don’t want to cause any more trouble, and in any case, I should like to do some shopping.” I hated that she felt so responsible for the trouble we’d had in her delightful house, especially since there was a strong probability that we’d drawn the trouble here.

She handed me my dish of tea before she laughed. “Really, Rose? You weren’t always so keen to shop.”

I took a sip of the refreshing brew. “I didn’t have as much to shop for, then.” I glanced up at her. “Nor as much to spend.”

As I’d hoped, that roused her to more laughter. “I do admit, that is one of the more appealing aspects of shopping these days. And you did have some time deprived of the pleasure.” To Lizzie, that would have been purgatory, but shopping was the last thing on my mind when I’d lain day after day in bed waiting for my strength to return.

“I love seeing new places. Lizzie, I never would have imagined that, but I do enjoy it. Lisbon is so different to anywhere else I’ve visited, I want to explore it. And I need to ensure that my court gown is properly set out. I didn’t order it sent here to the
palacio
because there wouldn’t be much point. There’s only one place I’ll wear that mantua, and that’s at court. It’s so unwieldy, I don’t know how they managed to wear them all the time in the old days.”

“Is it the same one from your presentation?”

“Yes, with a little judicious alteration. I can’t say to bring it into fashion, because it was never in fashion to begin with, but to add a few touches. I ordered it put on a figure and pressed, so it should be ready for me. Is there any word on our appearance at court?”

“No. You can see the palace without seeing the king, you know.”

I smiled. “I’d like that. To find my way around before I go on show as one of its exhibits. Is it a beautiful place?”

She considered, one finger pressed to the dimple at the side of her mouth, as she often did when thinking. “It’s very grand and full of works of art, but I have to confess I don’t like it overmuch. I’ve discovered a passion for the smaller, more intimate places.” She laughed merrily. “I know, who would have thought that my sister preferred the grandiose and I the intimate? But it’s only in buildings, my dear. Palaces intimidate me. Clothes do not.”

I took my time perusing her pale blue silk gown, worn over a flounced white petticoat. Triple lace ruffles adorned her sleeves and the lace at her neckline was equally fine. “I can see that.”

“You still feel reticent sometimes, don’t you, Rose?”

I couldn’t deny it to the woman who knew me so well. “Sometimes. But Richard helps and so do the grand costumes. If I’m feeling particularly nervous, I dress very grand. Richard knows that.”

“Does he do it himself?”

I took a sip of my tea. Despite his openness with me, Richard preferred to keep his private life and thoughts exactly that—private. I wouldn’t allow even my sister to cross the line in that respect. “No. It’s the way he was reared. To expect to always be in the public eye, to keep something of himself inside. Surely Paul does that?”

“Yes, in a way, but not the same way Richard does. I don’t know what your husband is thinking half the time, and sometimes he behaves one way when I know perfectly well he’s thinking something else. He’s always very kind to me, but inside, I’m wondering if he approves or disapproves, and why I should care. But I do. I find myself desperate for his approval.”

I couldn’t understand how people would feel like that, why they should care, but like Lizzie, they did. Undoubtedly. He had people fawning around him, people he couldn’t help financially or socially, people who had no reason to court him, but they did. Difficult for me, because I loved him, and different rules applied with love.

But I was never in any doubt how he felt, what he thought, not because he always told me but because I could almost sense it. I knew. I shook my head, trying to understand. The heavy earrings he’d given me recently swung against my cheeks, reminding me that he was always with me in some form, but not in a menacing way. He just was, as I was with him. “He is a private man, underneath all the extravagance and display.”

Lizzie knew that already, she must, from the way he behaved in public gatherings.

We finished our tea, and I watched Lizzie carefully. She wasn’t sure about my lighthearted words, my reasons to visit Lisbon. My sister had never been foolish. I was proved right by her next words. “So you want to go to Lisbon to replenish your wardrobe? Or is it something else?”

It hurt me not to tell her, but I was in no doubt where my loyalties lay. “I want to see the city. We’d love to return here, with your permission, but it’s obvious Paul will have to investigate the sad death of the maid, and we don’t want to intrude on you at this time.”

“So you don’t think the death had anything to do with you after all?” Lizzie shot me a shrewd glance. She was too close.

“Tell her.” The voice came from the door. Richard, firmly stating the facts. He entered the room with Paul and closed the door behind him. “She needs to know. I have told Paul some of it, and we agreed to come in here to discuss the matter with you.”

I sighed in relief. Richard must have persuaded Paul she had to know, and I wanted it too. Her child could be in danger, even if only as a side effect of an attempt on us. I waited until he came to sit beside me. Paul took a seat in an armchair set between our sofas, which faced each other. I glanced at Richard, who nodded.