The Belligerent Miss Boynton AND The Lurid Lady Lockport (Two Companion Full-Length Regency Novels) (25 page)

Amanda's eyes danced as she inquired, "Will you wish me to address you as Mama?"

Blanche was visibly losing control of her temper, but held it on a tight leash as she answered, "Indeed, no, my dear. I would certainly never dream of replacing your mother. Please, just call me Blanche."

Amanda grudgingly gave up the fight and agreed. As Blanche turned to the maid who was clearing up the flowers, and ordered some light refreshment, Amanda took the time to study the woman who had entered their lives so presumptuously three days earlier.

Jared's shock, and then barely-suppressed outrage, was clear to her and—except at meals, where they were forced into one another's company—he made a wide cut around Lady Wade. Amanda was sure they'd known each other in London. After all, hadn't Blanche addressed him as her "darling?" But Jared had steadfastly refused to talk to her about it.

She had also questioned her stepfather at length about both his visit to Storm Haven and his intended bride, but the besotted Denton only told her that his dearest Blanche had expressed an interest in meeting his stepdaughter and that he could refuse her nothing. That Blanche was not in love with the man was obvious to Amanda, yet since Blanche must know her future husband was far from wealthy, and as he had no title, what else could possibly have lured her into such an disadvantageous alliance? Not an overwhelming passion for the man, surely. So why was the woman here with Denton? Why? Amanda longed to know the answer.

For those reasons, and those reasons only, Amanda had welcomed Blanche and Denton into her home, convincing Jared that a week-long stay would not put an undue hardship on any of them.

She studied Blanche now as the woman daintily sat down, arranging her skirts around her. There was no denying that the woman was beautiful, even if in a strangely cold way, and marvelously well-dressed. Why, the gown on the woman's back must have cost well over a hundred pounds. And the diamonds she'd worn at dinner the previous evening had set someone back a small fortune. Amanda had noticed Jared's eyes on that necklace more than once, as if he recognized the piece.

And yet, as beautiful as she was, Blanche Wade also seemed capable of clearing a room simply by entering it. Kevin had shown no interest in her, and had departed Storm Haven directly after Amanda's dinner party. And Bo? Well, he had slipped from the blue room after rudely cutting Blanche dead, and even now his luggage was being moved to Squire Bosley's, where he would stay until after the engagement party for he and Anne—saying it was more convenient that way.

Amanda sighed. She had been wrong. Three days were more than enough, and a solid week of Blanche Wade could only be termed intolerable. If only there were some way to make her leave before the woman ruined little Anne's big night, for Anne had been forced by courtesy to extend both of Amanda's house guests an invitation.

Blanche was watching the emotions coming and going on Amanda's expressive face, and she deliberately preened as she enjoyed the girl's discomfort. Cheeky little tart! So this was the schoolroom chit Jared had dropped her for. His bad taste surprised her. The whole thing was insulting, that's what it was. Freddie was right, though—the way to get at Jared was through this green girl, for Jared was obviously bewitched by her.

It was strange, how alliances were formed. Blanche never could abide Jared's cousin, so that when she'd heard of Jared's marriage she had purposely sought Freddie out to tease him about his lost inheritance. She had always known Freddie disliked his cousin, but she had been surprised at the vehemence of his hatred. When Jared left her, after his final insult, she had studied long and hard on a way to make him sorry.

Freddie Crosswaithe's name had naturally come into her mind. The man had proved deeper than she had known. It had been Freddie who had suggested she might take up with Peregrine in order to get herself invited to Storm Haven. However, once there, with mischief and revenge foremost in her mind, she was to be on her own.

She'd meant what she said to Jared when he had dared to insult her. He would pay for that insult, and pay dearly. Oh, not with his life, as she had threatened, but destroying Jared's insipid little marriage would go a long way toward soothing her own injured sensibilities. As her opening salvo, Blanche had made it plain that once she and that stupid Denton were married (as if she would ever marry that buffoon!), they would hope to spend at least three months a year visiting their dear relatives. It had been worth Denton's wet kisses to watch Jared's reaction to that particular announcement!

Blanche smiled now as she remembered the look on Jared's face when he'd heard her plans at dinner last night, and she had gone on to deliberately finger the diamond necklace that had been his last present to her. No, it was far from the last, for if her plans went as she expected he might be talked into paying her to stay away from Storm Haven. Because Blanche had soon realized that watching Jared squirm was one thing. Causing trouble in his marriage was even better. But to line her pockets with some of his immense wealth? Ah,
that
would be best of all.

Except that now the girl was showing her milk teeth, daring to spar with her. It was time matters came to a head, time she collected the first of her money and ran back to London. After all, Denton was actually making noises about visiting her in her bedchamber—and that she would not endure! It was time she ran Jared to ground and put the matter before him. A quarterly allowance would be nice. Yes. She'd have him give her a quarterly allowance. Such a more palatable name than blackmail.

Although she supposed she could be convinced to linger a little longer this morning, to tweak this insipid milk and water puss. Just to let Jared know she meant business. "By the way, Amanda," she said in a careless, off-handed tone, "I have something of Jared's upstairs in my rooms. I had hoped to return them to him at a more," she pretended to search for the proper words, "intimate moment, but he seems to be scarcely ever at home. You see, when Jared left London rather unexpectedly a few weeks ago, I had no time to return the gloves he left in my, um, my entrance hall the last time he visited me. The poor darling was always leaving one thing or another behind—gloves, hats, cravats. I shall have my maid place them in your chamber." Blanche reached for her teacup, concealing a triumphant smile behind a raised linen serviette while searching Amanda's face for her reaction.

The room began to spin dizzily before Amanda's eyes. Well, she had her answer now, didn't she? There was no denying what Blanche had just so crudely implied. Jared had been the woman's lover—her lover
since
their marriage. While she had languished here at Storm Haven, and cried into her pillow, missing him, he'd been rolling about in Blanche Wade's bed.

Jared had never discussed his months in London, not since that first day when he'd confessed he had been miserable without her. Obviously he'd found some small surcease from his pain! And those diamonds? They must have come from Jared. Why else had he been so uncomfortable when Lady Chezwick had commented on them. Oh, yes, it was all coming together for her now.

Amanda wanted to weep, to scream. But she refused to give Blanche Wade the satisfaction. Oh, no. She would not give in without a fight! And she had to remain calm. Later she would most certainly indulge in a riotous storm of weeping, after which she would confront Jared with what she knew. But for now she must deal with this—what was the word Aunt Agatha had used?
Bitch
. Yes, that was it—this blonde bitch.

But how?

She had no idea of the events of Jared's last meeting with Blanche in London, but she did know he was definitely not overjoyed to see her at Storm Haven. Amanda was also sufficiently sure of his love now to believe he would not stray in Blanche's direction again—especially after she confronted him tonight. With this half–formed thought in mind, she forced a smile to her lips as she parried, "La, yes, Blanche, Jared told me all about his last meeting with you in London. I'm only surprised you would wish to mention it, since, as we have now both said, it was his last visit to you."

Blanche sat deadly still as Amanda rose and made to leave the room, turning back for a moment to add, "You may not be aware of it, the fashions being so forgiving of my swollen belly, but Jared and I are to start our nursery in the new year. It just struck me—with our new informality, would you wish the child to address you as Grandmother? Good heavens, the handle has quite snapped off that teacup! I'll just ring for someone to wipe the stain from your lovely gown before the fabric is ruined."

As the livid Blanche dashed past Amanda, holding her sodden skirts, she shouted, "Send that stupid Denton to me at once! I wish to return to London!"

#

Jared crept rather stealthily into the house by a side door, hoping to avoid any meeting with either Blanche or the idiot Denton. Though he didn't harbor any real animosity toward Denton any longer—three days of mealtime conversation had proved Amanda correct, the man was too stupid to arouse hatred just exasperation. However, Blanche was another matter entirely.

No, Denton was just the dupe, a role he seemed quite fitted for, but Blanche was up to no good. He'd been racking his brain ever since her arrival, hoping to figure out her motives in coming to Storm Haven, her motives behind dropping Freddie Crosswaithe's name into every conversation.

He remembered her last words to him, screamed as she lay on the floor of her bedchamber, but he doubted she had come to place a knife between his shoulders. More probably she wished to put a figurative pistol to his head, and he was more than ready to pay her any amount to be rid of her. But marriage to Denton? She was really pushing credulity a bit too far if she thought she could smoke him with that story. He'd waited three days, and that was already two days too many. Tomorrow he'd confront her and then send both she and her drooling betrothed packing.

As he passed the small salon he heard a loud, theatrical "
Pssst
!" and stuck his head in the room to see his aunt frantically beckoning for him to join her.

"Why are you hiding in here, madam? Have you run afoul of our guests? Never mind. It seems like a good idea. I'll join you if I may."

Lady Chezwick wore a pained, nearly martyred expression as she whispered, "Keep your voice down, you dolt, and close those doors before you have the whole house down on our heads. I'm only trying to save you, you know, though only heaven knows why, for you have never appreciated my help. Ah, that's better. Now, come sit down next to me while I tell you of this day's events. Guess, just you guess, what has happened!"

"My dear lady, I've no time for games. My mind is overly-occupied as it is, trying to discover some way to kill off our house guests and bury the bodies where no one will find them."

"But that is it exactly! However did you guess?"

Jared eyed his aunt owlishly. "What is it exactly? And don't tell me you mean Blanche and Denton are hidden under the daisies?"

Jared's attempt at humor was rewarded by a smart slap on his wrist from Lady Chezwick's fan. "Don't be more of a fool than you can help, Nephew. This is a serious business."

He rubbed his hand as he laughingly agreed. "I totally concur, Aunt. Murder always is."

"Murder?
Murder
? Jared, I feel we are talking at cross purposes, but I refuse to go back and figure out where we left the main road and started down this side path. What I called you in here to tell you is that Amanda's odious stepfather and his hussy have left for London. If you had been at home, instead of hiding out all day with Harrow, pretending to inspect the estate, you would be aware of the fact."

Jared slapped his knees and all but leapt to his feet, feeling as if a barn beam had just been lifted from his shoulders. "They're gone? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Lady Chezwick was nearly purple with rage as she pulled on her nephew's coat sleeve to regain his attention. "Keep your voice down, Jared, or I vow I'll leave you to your fate. If Amanda were to learn you're home before you and I put our heads together, you would not have a head left. The girl is incensed, I tell you!"

She now had Jared's undivided attention as he sat down and motioned for her to explain her last statement. She settled herself comfortably on the sofa and launched herself on a dressing-down she felt was long overdue. "Now, you wretched boy, your past has come back to haunt you. I always told you it would one day, and you know I'm right more than I'm wrong—although I must admit I have been in error once or twice, like when I misjudged dear Amanda, but not more than that, I—"

"Aunt, keep to the point, if you please. I believe you were about to chastise me for my checkered past."

"Don't interrupt! I will get where I'm going in my own way and in my own good time, Jared, and I would appreciate your attendance to my words." At his meek nod she continued her explanation. "As I was saying before your rude interruption," she threw him a wicked glance, "your past has indeed come back to haunt you. I never cared for Blanche Wade, told you so innumerable times—but did you listen? No, you did not. I knew when she waltzed in here the other day she was up to no good, but I didn't believe you could have been such thorough loose-screw after your marriage to that sweet, innocent, adorable—"

"Her name is Amanda, Aunt."

"I know that, but when I saw that poor betrayed girl upstairs today, sobbing her heart out over a blackguard such as you, I realized you're still ignorant of her many virtues."

"Crying? My wife was crying?" Jared rose, ready to quit the room, then asked his aunt, "What did that tart do to upset Amanda?"

"Oh, so you figured that out, did you? She only told her the truth—that you had visited her when you ran away from Storm Haven like a delinquent infant and went to sulk in London. And don't bother to deny it, Nephew, for I know it's true. I can see it in your face. The guilt is plain to me and it will be just as plain to Amanda." The old lady's face crumpled as she wailed, "Oh,
why
, Jared? Why did you do such a terrible thing? And with a hussy like Blanche Wade!"