The Lodestone (49 page)

“I want to tell you now,” he insisted, weak but determined. “You must marry me, Cleome. I want you to be absolutely mine, nicely settled in my house with a babe upon each knee. Forever mine. Completely mine. Irrevocably mine. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” she answered softly, with a little frown. “Sleep now.”

**

As Drake closed his eyes, Cleome realized that he had not yet said he loved her, only that he wanted to possess her. Any man would want to marry a woman who had inherited a fortune that would be under his control when she was his wife. As
she
would be under his control. That thought terrified her. She could not marry unless her husband loved her enough to let her govern her own life.

Surely Drake would do that, her heart argued. He had a fortune of his own. He’d said more than once that he didn’t need hers. What was wrong with her? She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything—except to be in charge of her own destiny. Before she could give him her answer, she had to speak with Oliver. If Drake truly loved her, he would sign whatever document her solicitor prepared that would enable her to manage her own estate. But
why
hadn’t he said that he loved her?

**

“You are mistaken, Edwina,” Garnett argued, once they were safe in Monte Carlo and waiting for Cleome and Drake to join them. “Please, listen to me.”

“No, my friend.” Edwina was adamant. “I’ll always be grateful but there’s no need to chain yourself to a woman you do not love. Uncle Oliver has assured me that Paolo will be forced to provide for me, unless he wants his secret known. After all, I am carrying his heir.”

“Not his. Mine.”

“Well, no one will ever hear it from me,” she promised. “I know what an embarrassment that would be to you. Your reputation, and mine, will remain intact. My baby and I will be well provided for, and no trouble to you at all.”

“But—Edwina, I
do
love you,” he protested, surprising himself with the truth of it. “I never realized it until this moment, but that doesn’t make it any less sincere.”

“It is admirable that you want to do the honorable thing, Garnett—but it isn’t necessary. I have no intention of spending my life with a man who feels under an obligation to—how did Mr. Stoneham put it—to stand by me.”

“I shouldn’t have told you that, for now you’ll never believe I’m asking you to be my wife—begging you—because of what I feel, not because of anything Drake said.”

“I wouldn’t believe it, in any case,” she told him. “And I won’t see you ruin your life because of some misplaced sense of duty, even if Paolo would agree to divorce me. Uncle and I are taking a coach back to Le Havre tomorrow and then a boat across to England. Soon, I’ll be home.” She laid her palm gently against his cheek and he had never thought her more beautiful. “Goodbye, my darling,” she said tenderly.

**

“Hurry, lad,” Drake commanded and Richard did his best to comply. They had docked in Monte Carlo and the boy was helping him dress as his wound made it difficult for him, although it was mending nicely. Cleome was already on deck, eager for the sight of Edwina and Garnett, who she hoped would be there to greet them. Drake had slept off and on during the short voyage but even when awake, he’d seen little of Cleome since he’d asked her to marry him. Richard brought his food and Cartwright changed his bandage. When Cleome was in his cabin, she insisted he not tax himself by talking. She had not responded to his proposal and he could wait no longer for her answer.

**

On deck, Cleome paced and fretted. As had been arranged before they set out on their adventure, the harbormaster in Monte Carlo sent a message to Drake’s townhouse as soon as his ship was within signaling distance. She knew that when Oliver, Edwina and Garnett received word, they would hasten to the docks. Squinting in the bright sun, she caught sight of Garnett hurrying up the gangplank.

As he caught her hands in his own and kissed her cheek, she asked, “Where is Edwina? Is Oliver with you? Are they waiting in Drake’s flat?”

“No,” he said sadly. “They have gone.”

“Gone?” She was stunned. “Gone where? Why didn’t they wait for us?”

As he told her how Edwina had rejected him, she took his hand. “And the fact is,” he finished, “I really do love her, Cleome. I cannot go on without her. What I felt for you—well, I will always care for you but this is—this—”

“I know,” she replied. “There’s no need to explain.”

“And the baby,” he continued, tears filling his eyes. “I cannot bear the thought of not knowing my child.”

She put her arms around him, offering him what comfort she could. Grateful, he hugged her close and rested his cheek against the top of her head. It was at that moment Drake came up on deck from below.

“Well, isn’t this a cozy picture?” he asked with quiet contempt.

**

The sight of Cleome in another man’s arms hit Drake in the gut like a cannon ball, sweeping away both his reason and his tender regard for her. He wanted to lash out at her, to punish her, to see her experience half the pain that was ripping him apart.

“Drake!” she exclaimed as she whirled around—guiltily, he thought.

“I say, Drake,” Garnett began. “Cleome was offering me comfort because—”

“That much was clear to me,” Drake broke in, grim, as he brushed past them and headed for the gangplank. He hated himself for the words he’d spoken to Cleome in the cabin below, and for admitting to her that he wanted to marry her, of all things—words he’d never spoken to any other woman and had often sworn he never would. But how unreasonable is the human heart. Seeing Garnett’s arms about her made him want her more than ever. Drake’s voice like ice, he continued to Cleome, “I risked my life for your little friend, and you repay the favor by betraying me with this . . . this . . . son of a lord, all the while acting as if I aroused some feeling in you. Obviously, you
were
pretending. Well, that was the point of our charade, wasn’t it? Once again, milady, it appears I must excuse your debt.”

He could see the wave of fury sweep over her and it gave him a bitter satisfaction. “So that is the opinion you have of me!” she fumed. “How dare you charge me with lies and betrayal. You have no right to impeach me so! We are not yet betrothed.”

“Betrothed?” he mocked. “Oh, yes . . . well, you must not take to heart the ravings of a man overcome with fever.”

“I didn’t!” she exclaimed, shaking with rage. “And I would not marry you, sir, if you were the last man on earth!”

“Have a safe journey back to London,” Drake said as he bowed, refusing to look at her lest she see the agony reflected in his eyes. “Or wherever you choose to take your young man. I trust you can find your way from here, especially with so handsome an escort.” He started down the gangplank but turned back once more to address Garnett. “By the way, Easton—if you haven’t already figured it out—you are hereby discharged from my employ.”

Chapter Twenty

Garnett was devastated. He’d told Cleome that Edwina’s rejection had left him feeling empty and lost. Cleome was simply angry—too angry to feel the heartache that would soon overtake her. If that’s what Drake Stoneham thought of her, she told herself, then she was better off without him. She was naïve, she was inexperienced, she was unsophisticated—but she was not, nor had she ever been, dishonest or insincere. And as for his proposal, he had never
asked
her to marry him; he had simply told her she must. He had decided her future as if she had no say in the matter, and she considered herself well away from a man so bent on controlling her.

She sent a messenger ahead to London to inform Oliver and Edwina that Paolo had died in the fire; and after resting one night in a fine Monte Carlo hotel, she and Garnett followed their example and took a coach and then a ferry back to England. Upon their arrival, she insisted Garnett stay on at Houghton Hall. They were certainly well chaperoned there, if that worried him, she argued. And together, they would think of a way to bring Edwina to her senses.

When Cleome went to see how her friend fared after her terrible ordeal, a cheerful Oliver greeted her at the door. He answered her inquiry with, “You’ll see for yourself how radiant she is. I think the dear girl has kissed every lamp and bedpost in the old place. She misses her piano, of course.”

“What happened to your old upright?”

“Oh. I gave it to the orphanage when she went to Italy,” he said. “It was too painful a reminder. But we have purchased another. It will be delivered at any moment.”

As Oliver ushered her into the little parlor, Edwina ran down the stairs and threw her arms around Cleome. Hannah was gone to market, so Oliver took himself off to the kitchen to make their tea.

“Are you really all right, Eddy?” Cleome wanted to know.

“I am better than all right,” Edwina assured her. “It’s so marvelous to be here. But what of you and Drake? What a splendid couple you make. Have you mended things with him?”

“No,” she replied, refusing to give way to tears as she told Edwina how they had parted. “How could I love such a man?” she asked. “He wants only to control me—and what hell that would be, considering the low opinion he has of me.”

“Nonsense!” Edwina said. “He cares deeply for you, Cleome.”

“Please, let’s not discuss Drake anymore,” Cleome responded bitterly. “If he appeared to feel anything for me, it was merely a charade for the benefit of your late husband. Now that you’re a free woman, what will you do?”

“Live here with Uncle, love my baby and enjoy my music—and Paolo’s money.”

“What about Garnett? He is miserable without you, Eddy. I truly believe he has fallen in love with you.”

“Oh, Cleo—if only I could believe it,” Edwina responded. “It’s his conscience that makes him miserable, I’m afraid. I’ll not allow him to ‘stand by me’ just because of a guilty conscience. If I could be as sure of his feelings as you are . . .” her voice trailed off. Then, she resolutely changed the subject. “I cannot guess what doors my dear Mamma has her ear pressed against, but she has already heard of my widowhood and my inheritance.”

“Have you seen her?”

“No. I’ve no intention of ever speaking to her again. Uncle Oliver will deal with her. Did you know she sold me to Paolo? She will never get near my child.”

Edwina had no more desire to discuss Garnett than Cleome wished to discuss Drake; and during tea, the new piano arrived. Cleome sat with Oliver for a while, listening to Edwina play, and it didn’t take long for the pianist to get lost in her music. Cleome kissed the old man goodbye and promised to call again soon; and then she slipped away unnoticed by her friend.

**

“I fear it’s hopeless,” Garnett told Cleome after he had called on Edwina twice more and Oliver had sent him away—apologetically but firmly. “She refuses see me. She will not believe I truly love her.”

“You must convince her.”

“How?” he asked. “She’s right to refuse me, you know. I have nothing to offer her. Now that Drake has sacked me, I cannot even support her
poorly
.”

“You can find another position.”

“Doing what?” He snorted a rueful little laugh. “You quite forget, dear. I am completely useless when it comes to working. I have no idea why Drake gave me a chance but I even ruined that pitiful possibility of an income.”

“Please. Do not mention his name to me again.”

“I don’t know who’s more stubborn. You or that man you love.”

“Please, Garnett. Let us stay to the point. With the various Houghton enterprises, I’m sure we can find something for you. What do you like to do?”

He thought for a moment and then a sad smile touched his features. “The only thing that ever gave me pleasure was planting my gardens at Easton Place. I’m good at it, you know. And painting—but I’m not talented enough to make a living at that.”

“Shopping,” she replied, laughter bubbling up within her, delighted with the plan that had come to her. “Then tomorrow, you must do exactly as I say. And no matter how many times Edwina utters that despicable word, you must not take ‘no’ as your answer.”

**

Edwina had been at her piano for an hour when she started to weep. Tears streamed down her face as she played. Sending Garnett away was quite possibly the most stupid thing she had ever done, she thought, except for marrying Paolo. What if he never came back? She assaulted the keyboard relentlessly, letting the music drown out the sounds of her sorrow. John had taken Uncle Oliver to his office, Hannah was busy upstairs, and Edwina was long overdue for a good cry.

By the end of the concerto, she was spent but she felt better for it. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, seeing how ridiculous her noble gesture towards Garnett had been.
Well,
she thought,
I have every right to change my mind. And if he does not really love me, then my love will have to be enough for both of us.
She heard a commotion outside but gave no credence to it, as her uncle’s house was on a busy street that always bustled with activity. And then Hannah rushed downstairs waving the feather duster.

“Miss Edwina! What goings on! Why, that young man will create a scandal, he will!” The stout woman ran to the open window and looked out. “You must do something, miss, or everyone will know your business!”

Edwina joined the housekeeper at the window, and she could scarcely take in the scene below. A delivery wagon had stopped in front of the house and two large men were taking items off, under Garnett’s direction, and setting them on the sidewalk. From what she could see, it was an entire nursery and layette. There was a cradle, a rocking chair, a perambulator in which to wheel the baby, a rocking horse (along with every toy imaginable), a darling little bathtub and trunks spilling over with blankets, dresses, bibs and bonnets. An interested crowd had gathered round to watch and speculate on Garnett’s purpose.