The Elusive Flame (49 page)

“We don’t have much time left,” Alistair snapped. “Our funds are running out.”

“Should have sold more of your aunt’s possessions before we left. Had we done so, we’d have had the time and resources to see this thing done properly.”

“Don’t fret so much. You know it sours your stomach.”

Cerynise had gone to the kitchen to show Marcus off to Philippe while the baby was wide awake and sweetly attentive to the faces that came close enough for him to peruse. The chef was jovially giving the child his first lessons in French, declaring that Marcus would be highly appreciative of the language once he started sailing to foreign shores like his father. The child was responding to him with happy gurgles, drawing chuckles of delight from both chef and parent, but when Jasper came rushing in, Marcus quickly shifted his consideration to the highly agitated butler and puckered his brows in a curious frown.

“Madam! Prepare yourself,” Jasper urged excitedly. “In fact, you’d better give the baby over to Monsieur
Philippe before I tell you who is at the front door requesting to see you.”

Cerynise clasped her baby more securely in her own arms, clearly bemused by the butler’s anxiety, and inclined her head to assure him that she had the situation well in hand. “Who is it, Jasper?”

“Mr. Winthrop and Mr. Rudd, madam.…”

Cerynise swayed in a stunned daze and quickly passed the baby over into the arms of the chef, who grew alarmed at her sudden pallor. “Madame! Are you all right?”

She nodded stiffly and begged him, “Please take the baby out to Vera.…”

Without another word she turned and left the kitchen ahead of Jasper, who paused to give Philippe instructions of his own. In the dining room, Cerynise waited for the butler to join her and then bade, “I’ll receive the visitors in the parlor, Jasper.”

“Madam, are you sure?” he questioned worriedly.

“They wouldn’t dare harm me here in my own home.”

“Even so, madam, I cannot bring myself to trust the men. They’re scoundrels through and through.”

“That may well be true, Jasper, but I’m curious to know what they’re doing here and what they want of me.”

“No good, I fear.”

“I’ll hear them out. That’s all.”

Cerynise went into the front room on the north side of the house while Jasper reluctantly complied with her wishes. He opened the front door to admit the two, and then announced, “Mrs. Birmingham will see you in the parlor.”

Stepping past the servant, Alistair strode into the front foyer and then, sweeping off his hat and tossing it back to the man, approached the study, on the opposite side of the house.

“The other way, sir,” Jasper corrected, his ire rising as he took note of his former employer’s interest in the room, where an older painting of Cerynise’s was hanging above the mantel. It was one that her husband had especially
reserved for himself, an English country scene of a thatched-roof cottage nestled beside a stream in the midst of a wooded glade. Personally Jasper had always considered it one of her best landscapes.

“Haven’t I seen that painting before?” Alistair asked, turning a calculating frown upon the butler.

Jasper’s nose lifted imperiously. “I wouldn’t know, sir.” Once again he extended his hand in the direction of the parlor. “Mrs. Birmingham is awaiting you in
here,
sir.”

Howard Rudd passed his own headgear to the servant and smoothed down the lapels of his wrinkled frock coat before he followed Alistair into the parlor.

Jasper set the hats aside on the entrance table and stepped to the door, gaining his mistress’s attention. “Do you wish tea or refreshments, madam?”

Howard Rudd eyed the large cabinet standing against the wall and licked a coated tongue over his parched lips as he took note of the crystal decanters residing on a silver platter there. “Glass of brandy if the captain wouldn’t mind.”

“
Nothing
at all,” Alistair stated with emphasis, his eyes narrowing warningly as they shifted to the barrister, who was growing noticeably disconcerted by the ordeal of entering the domain of that seafaring worthy who had once set them on their ears. “We won’t be staying that long.”

“I’ll have a cup of tea, Jasper,” Cerynise replied, letting them both know that she was the one to whom the butler had spoken and the only one in the room with the authority to make such decisions.

Despite the moments that she had been allowed to compose herself, Cerynise realized she hadn’t been expecting the sudden surge of abhorrence that had swept through her when she had settled her gaze upon the two men. Almost a full year had passed since she had last seen them, but that hadn’t been nearly enough time in her mind. She didn’t regret in the least that at their last confrontation her husband had taken Alistair up by the scruff of his neck
and the seat of his pants and sailed him overboard into the Thames. She only wished Beau was here now, watching over her with his usual care.

Alistair appeared thinner than before, she surmised. Dark circles were evident beneath his eyes, and his clothes were ill fitting and rumpled, far different from what his appearance had been in London. The portly solicitor appeared equally disheveled, his bulbous nose perhaps even more unsightly with the netting of broken veins that crisscrossed it. His eyes were red and watery, as if he suffered some allergy or perhaps repercussions from liberally imbibing in strong spirits.

Cerynise reluctantly extended an invitation for them to take a seat across from her, making an earnest effort to appear cordial. Her only reason for permitting them into the house was to learn what they were up to, and the best way to hasten that information along was to convey a modicum of civility. “Do forgive my surprise, gentlemen. I’m sure you can believe that your visit here is most unexpected. In fact, you’re the last people I anticipated seeing today.”

Alistair’s unwieldy lips slipped upward unctuously. “Oh, no doubt, my dear girl, and I apologize most sincerely for startling you. But having come so far to see you, we couldn’t bear to wait a moment longer. Our ship docked only this morning, and we hastened here with all possible spee—”

Bridget entered, looking quite fetching in a neat black gown, a frilly white apron and a starched white cap adorned with lace. Though the maid met neither man’s gaze, she sensed their acute surprise and a strong hint of distress on the part of the solicitor as she went to her mistress. Bearing a tray upon which resided a cup of tea and the usual pitcher of cream and bowl of sugar, she offered the small tea service to Cerynise, who added sugar and cream to her cup. After laying a napkin across her mistress’s lap, Bridget took her leave with quiet aplomb,
winning for herself an ever-so-brief smile of approval from Jasper, who was hovering near the door.

“You were saying that you came here from your ship,” Cerynise reminded Alistair, noticing that he had not yet fully recovered from his astonishment at seeing Bridget in her house. “For what purpose?”

“To make amends, madam,” Rudd interjected. He shot a quick glance toward Alistair, as if seeking approval for his statement. “That’s it, isn’t it? All the way here Mr. Winthrop talked of nothing else, how he had wronged you. The man has been tormented with remorse. If you would but hear him out, madam, I’m sure you won’t regret it.”

Alistair was still struggling with his irritation at finding not only Jasper in the Birmingham household, but Bridget as well. He indicated the indomitable butler with a jerk of his oil-slicked head as he broached the subject to Cerynise. “How many more servants came with him?”

“All of them,” she answered forthrightly and was quick to note the darkening rage on her former tormentor’s face. Taking a bit of revenge upon the man, she set the spur deeper. “My husband gave them enough funds to make the journey, but by then, they were already making plans to leave you.”

Alistair jabbed a finger in a southerly direction. “Did they bring that painting across the hall with them?”

“Of course,” she rejoined, feeling a keen sense of pleasure to assure the rascal of that fact. She further needled, “In fact, they brought all my paintings with them, five of which have already been sold for a considerable sum…twenty-six thousand dollars to be exact.”

Rudd choked suddenly and coughed against the bile that promptly rose into his throat. “A glass of water,” he begged the butler. “I need a glass of water.”

Solicitously Cerynise inquired, “Are you all right?”

Rudd cleared his throat, managing to gasp, “Will be as soon as I get some water.”

Alistair silently smoldered. It was obvious now that the enticement they had planned to use would have no effect
since the paintings were already in her possession, but he couldn’t help but think of all that money they could have had…if not for Jasper. He’d wring that confounded butler’s neck yet!

The barrister clutched the glass of water which the servant brought back and gulped down half the contents to ease the acidic burning in his throat. The liquid only washed it down to his stomach, where the juices soon began to ferment and erupt upward again in small gaseous bubbles. Rudd knew the signs only too well, and his distress deepened.

Cerynise returned to the business at hand, briskly warning them, “My husband will be averse to you coming here in his absence. He has instructed Jasper to watch over me. Naturally anything you say will be witnessed by him.”

Rudd cast a quick, wary glance behind him at the indomitable butler and tried to soothe the lady’s fears. They would have to come up with another ploy very, very soon or his companion would resort to his usual heavy-handed tactics. “How can we assure you there’s no need of such precautions, madam?”

“By stating your business and then leaving,” Cerynise answered succinctly.

Rudd pressed his fingers to his lips to hide a burp. Then, clearing his throat, he lifted a hand to her in appeal. “Our business is most private, madam.…”

“If you’re suggesting that Jasper be excused, Mr. Rudd, then I’m afraid I won’t be able to hear you out,” she informed him bluntly. “My husband has instructed Jasper not to leave my side while there’s some question of my safety. And as I distinctly remember, you both have proven quite untrustworthy in my presence.”

“We need some papers signed,” Alistair announced, as if it pained him to admit that fact.

Rudd shot him a look of surprise, received a warning frown in return, and then cleared his throat again sharply, trying to dislodge another belch. “Yes, of course.” He
lifted a hand to his companion, giving him the honors. “Mr. Winthrop would like to explain the necessity.”

Alistair made an earnest effort to do such a thing. “Well…ah…on further evaluation of my aunt’s will, Mr. Rudd, here, found a clause which decreed that I would have to show just cause for not taking on the responsibility of your wardship, requiring both a court appearance and a signed affidavit from you to serve as a release. Until those two events occur, I cannot claim my inheritance.”

Howard Rudd breathed a sigh of relief at the plausibility of his companion’s stratagem and eagerly nodded in agreement. “A bit awkward for Mr. Winthrop’s creditors, having to wait so long.…Why, just to ask your compliance, we had to scrape up the funds to sail here.”

In some confusion, Cerynise peered at the lawyer. “Do you mean to say that I must appear before a judge and, in his presence, sign a document releasing you from all obligations as my guardian?”

“That’s it exactly,” Alistair affirmed in his companion’s stead and shot a glance toward Jasper. The butler was staring off into space, but Alistair had no doubt that the man was closely attentive to what was being said.

“I see no difficulty in going before a judge here in Charleston and signing such a document, as long as my husband’s lawyer has a chance to read it over first,” Cerynise reasoned.

Alistair winced for her benefit. “But therein lies the difficulty, my dear. You must return to England to make such an appearance.”

“That’s absolutely out of the question.” Cerynise waved a hand to dismiss the merest possibility that she would go to such lengths for them. “If the matter cannot be resolved here in Charleston, then it shan’t be done at all, at least not until my husband and I return to England on another sea voyage, but that won’t happen until early spring.”

“And in the meantime, I’m bereft of funds.” Alistair shook his head dolefully.

“I’m sorry, but I’m unable to relieve your plight.” Cerynise was not at all sympathetic. Had Alistair asked for such a thing before their departure from England, then she’d have gladly gone with Beau to carry out the man’s wishes, but Alistair had been far too adamant about taking possession of her.

Rudd snapped his fingers, as if an idea just came to him, and tested the notion out on Alistair. “You remember that judge who made the crossing with us, don’t you?”

The thinner man inclined his head almost warily, following the solicitor’s lead. “Of course.”

“Well, he’s a proper English magistrate. If she signs the papers in front of him, it would be the same as being in an English court of law.”

“That’s right,” Alistair agreed, smiling at the idea. “All she’d have to do is accompany us to the inn where we’ve all taken rooms and have him witness the event. That would serve our purposes very nicely indeed.”

Rudd seemed extremely pleased with himself for having thought of the ruse. “Would you allow us to take you to see the judge, madam?”

Cerynise scoffed at the idea. “Not without my husband.” And for good measure she added, “And a good dozen of his men to make sure we’re not waylaid.”

Rudd’s face fell forthwith. All their hopes to take possession of her peaceably seemed futile. What were they to do? It was obvious she was too well guarded in her home for them to expect to be able to escape with her with any degree of success. And, of course, there were the servants, who could identify them.

“Are you suggesting, madam, that we would resort to that kind of duplicity?” Alistair asked in growing outrage.

Cerynise smiled serenely. “Perhaps.”

With a growl Alistair launched himself out of his chair and was across the room in a thrice, snatching Cerynise out of hers. Jasper gave a warning cry and dashed forward to defend her, but he gave no heed to the danger of passing Rudd, who, upon seeing his approach, seized a bronze
bookend from a nearby table. The weighty piece crashed down upon the butler’s head, spilling him forward to the floor, where he lay unconscious at the lawyer’s feet.