The Proud Viscount (15 page)

“I’ll have to be, won’t I?”

Rossmere turned abruptly and left the cottage. When the rear door had closed behind him, he drew a deep breath and forced his body to relax before walking into the little woods to reclaim Ascot. It had been a long, long evening.

Chapter 12

For two nights Jane had sat back and watched Rossmere disappear in the evening. He had made no attempt to explain to her where he was going, nor to report on his activities afterward. On the second evening Jane sat up late in her room, reading a novel and listening for the sounds of Ascot returning to the stables. She drowsed over the book as it got later, forcing her eyes open and stifling huge yawns. It had gone midnight when muffled hoofbeats reached her ears.

Moving to the window, she watched as Rossmere slowed his horse to a walk and circled wide of the house to reach the stables. It upset her that he glanced up toward her window, where not only would he see light still shining but he might well make out her own figure standing there. As if she might be spying on him!

Well, if she was, it was for good reason. She had hoped for help from him, not this questionable absence each night. Where did he go? Certainly not to discover what John Parnham was up to. He could do that better in the daytime. No, it seemed much more likely that he called on Mrs. Fulton. He had the money he had won from the horse race. How much of her time would that buy him? she wondered. Jane was unfamiliar with the cost of such arrangements.

Since he would pass her suite on his way to his room, she snuffed her candle so no trace of light would appear under her door. He might think he was mistaken about seeing her still awake and staring out the window at this late hour. She climbed quickly into bed and lay stiff as a board, listening for sounds of his approach.

It wasn’t long before the floorboards creaked with his bold step. One would think the man would at least try to approach silently under the circumstances! But no, he stalked straight down the hall, stopping in front of her bedchamber door to rap twice sharply on it.

Incredible! Did he think she was going to entertain him at this hour of the night? “What is it?” she called after a suitable interval for waking and calming one’s nerves, but sounding irritable, of course.

“I need to talk to you,” he said without bothering to identify, or excuse, himself.

“I’m in bed.”

“Well, you can’t have been there long, so throw on a robe and come out here, if you please.”

If you please, indeed. His tone certainly gave no indication that he meant to be the least bit polite. Jane did as he asked, though, since she had to know if he had discovered anything about her sister’s husband. The robe she slipped into and knotted at her waist was a particularly ancient and unbecoming one of a grayish-green nubby wool. In her sitting room she lit both candles on the mantelpiece before opening the door.

Rossmere was still standing at her bedchamber door and frowned momentarily when she appeared and beckoned him into the next room. “I wouldn’t have you in here except that it is even less agreeable to me to discuss matters with you in the hallway,” she informed him. “Please have a seat.”

As he walked past her to one of the two comfortable chairs, she caught the smell of a flowerlike scent. Her nose twitched, her lips pursed, she glared at him.

Rossmere turned to find her in this state and cocked his head at her. “I have no intention of molesting you,” he assured her. “Is that why you look so disapproving?”

“You’ve obviously been in close proximity to a particularly fragrant rose bush, Lord Rossmere. Combined with the odor of horseflesh, it’s truly remarkable.”

He stared haughtily at her for a moment but finally waved a dismissive hand. “Madeline Fulton, of course. I assure you I was there on the most urgent business.”

“Urgent,” she murmured, unimpressed. Neither of them had yet taken a seat.

“I’ve spent the last two evenings trying to get information about John Parnham, Lady Jane. Spending the last of my meager resources buying the locals rounds of beer to loosen their tongues.”

“I can’t imagine how you could possibly have gone through the money you won so quickly.”

“It was needed for Longborough.” At her look of disbelief, he said, “Oh, never mind that. Just let me tell you what I’ve learned.”

Seating herself, Jane listened with impatience to his tale of the pub and Jem and the horse in the wood. Not even Parnham’s horse, she noted. And of his “talk” with Madeline Fulton. Well, it didn’t matter to her what he did, did it? The whole story seemed the wildest sort of fabrication, and she told him so.

“You haven’t the first reason for believing Mrs. Fulton even knows John Parnham! And don’t be alarmed about the depletion of your resources. I shall certainly reimburse you for your expenses on our behalf. All of them,” she stressed, her voice strangled with emotion.

For a long moment he did nothing more than study her face. Jane could feel it grow hot under his stare. How unlike her to become so emotional and distempered! If he wished to daIly with the Fulton woman, he had every right. Why it should possibly concern her, she didn’t know. But it was impossible to meet his cool, unswerving eyes, and she dropped hers to her hands, which lay tightly clenched in her lap.

“Listen carefully to me, Jane,” he said with exaggerated patience. “Years ago, when I spent a great deal of time in London, Mrs. Fulton and I had a... connection. It was ended long before my financial situation deteriorated, thanks largely to Richard. He had never met her, but he made me talk, made me see what kind of a woman she was. Because she’s not just another lightskirt, I promise you.”

“I’m quite prepared to believe that,.”

“She’s an enchantress.” At her look of amusement, he clenched a fist against the chair arm. “She might have been a great actress. She’s remarkably accomplished at playing any role she chooses. But the astonishing thing about her is how clever she is in choosing the role she does play. Without the least hesitation she becomes exactly the kind of woman a man fantasizes about. Demure, or exotic, or untamed—anything at all.”

“I presume you know this from your own experience,” she said.

“Not just that. When her spell was broken, when she no longer had any hold on my affections, I encountered other men who had known her. Several of them felt they’d had a narrow escape. Most were shipped off by their families to somewhere very far away, or their money was cut off, or some other drastic measure taken to remove them from her vicinity.”

“You make her sound like a witch.”

“No, not a witch. A very clever, very cunning woman. Though she led a disreputable life, by society’s standards, she had every intention of landing herself a husband. She’s been incredibly unfortunate up to now, but with Parnham... Her patience has worn thin, Jane. She intends to have him, and it doesn’t matter that he’s already married.”

“This is pure speculation.” Her hands felt clammy and her head had begun to throb. She didn’t want to know that a woman like Madeline Fulton had captivated him, held him in thrall. It made her sick just thinking of it. “You’re projecting from your own experience. There’s no reason to think that she even knows John Parnham.”

He sighed. “Unfortunately, there is. I hate to admit this to you, but years ago I introduced them. The other day, when you mentioned his name, I had a feeling there was some connection I wasn’t making. It took me some time to remember the occasion on which I met him. At White’s, where we were both playing piquet. Meeting someone at White’s is almost a guarantee of their respectability, you know.”

“Mmmm. So my brothers say. But I’m sure Mrs. Fulton wasn’t in White’s.”

He frowned at the remark. “No, but it was odd how Parnham showed up the very next time I was out in public with her. Almost as if he’d been waiting for the opportunity. Well, that’s mere conjecture. In any case, I did introduce them, and it wasn’t long after that that I stopped seeing her. That was the last I heard of either of them.”

“Then you have no way of knowing they ever got together.”

“Look, Jane,” he said reasonably, “it’s too much of a coincidence her showing up in this neighborhood, if there isn’t some connection. Who else would have brought her here? Not that farmer whose horse was found in the woods, you can bet your life. And who’s in a better position to hire a horse from his own tenant farmer than John Parnham?”

“But you’re suggesting that he’s known her for a long time, that she was his mistress for several years before he married Nancy. That he’s brought her out here..." Jane stopped, horrified at where this was headed.

“Since the baby was born.” Rossmere looked very grim. “Yes. It wasn’t safe, but I’ve told you about Madeline’s sorcery. She must have agreed to it because she wanted to be sure of keeping her hold on him. And frankly, Jane, the attempt to convince other people that your sister is losing her reason sounds somehow much more the sort of scheme Madeline would devise than Parnham would.”

“Let’s assume you’re right... about everything,” she said, feeling a shiver run down her spine. “What are we going to do about it? How are we going to save Nancy? Do you think we could convince my father?”

“We could try, but I’m not at all sure we’d be successful. I tried once before and he was incredibly stubborn, incomprehensible as that is to me. Perhaps you could convince Lady Mabel.”

Jane shook her head hopelessly. “She thinks Parnham is a paragon; she won’t hear a word against him. Really, it’s terribly discouraging. They’ll both think I’m being hysterical if I try to make them believe a word of this.” She held her head high and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I could give Nancy a place to stay. She and William could come to me if I moved into Graywood. John couldn’t harm them there.”

There was a long moment’s silence. One of the candles flickered wildly while the other remained steady. Jane could feel Rossmere’s eyes on her, but she kept her gaze locked on his boots.

“It won’t do, Jane,” he said at length.

“Why not?” She would make it work.

“First, your family and your neighbors would be horrified to see you move into a place of your own. No, don’t tell me you would get a companion. You know it’s impossible. This is the country, and Graywood isn’t five miles from Willow End. There would be incessant gossip.”

“Gossip is a great deal easier to bear than the death of one’s sister.”

“Second,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken, “your sister wouldn’t come to you there. Parnham wouldn’t let her. And he would have the sympathy of the neighbors on his side. He could keep the child from her, too, you know. Don’t think that isn’t a heavy consideration with her. Why do you think she went home with him?”

Jane’s head swung up sharply. “You can’t possibly know that.”

“I don’t know it. I can surmise it. The child belongs to the father, Jane. In this case he would have the court’s sympathy, if his wife left him to go live with her sister. You know very well, if you will think about it, that that is exactly what would happen.”

Impotent with rage at the injustice of the situation, Jane buried her face in her hands and wept. There was nothing she could do. Nothing, nothing. How could she sit by and watch her sister’s husband kill Nancy? Jane wasn’t aware at first that Rossmere had moved from his chair, that his strong arms had come around her. He was silent as his hand caressed her neck, rubbing it rhythmically in an attempt to calm her. After a few minutes, the storm of tears abated and she pulled back from his embrace, accepting the handkerchief he offered.

“I beg your pardon,” she whispered. “I know that won’t do any good.”

When she raised her eyes to him, he was already seated in the chair opposite her again. Concern etched two hard lines around his mouth, making him look more formidable than she was accustomed to. In the dim light his blue eyes appeared almost black, and hard, and determined.

His voice was thoughtful. “There
is
one solution I can see.”

“What is it?”

“If you and I married and lived at Graywood, we could probably convince Nancy to live with us and intimidate Parnham into allowing the arrangement, at least for long enough to unearth something derogatory from his past. There must be something wrong there, or he wouldn’t have moved into this area."

Jane was staring at him. “Married? Lived at Graywood? You’ve quite lost me, Lord Rossmere.”

“It’s been plain Rossmere for days, Jane, and from now on it should be Stephen. I’m sure marrying me is not too great a sacrifice for you to make to save your sister’s life.”

“But why would you marry me? This is really not a matter that involves you personally.”

“Lady Mabel is threatening to cut me off from my only source of funds,” he said in the most matter-of-fact manner Jane could imagine.

“That needn’t push you into marriage. I’ve already told you I would be willing to see you have the income from Graywood. It was really quite outrageous of Mabel to try to force you to marry me.”

“And I’ve told you that I won’t take charity from you, Jane.”

“The property would have been yours! Can’t you accept that as reason enough for claiming the income? How does that differ from marrying me and achieving the same result?”

Rossmere raised an admonitory finger. “Let’s consider your sister’s plight rather than yours or mine, shall we? I think that we, together, could bring it off. Separately... Well, there might be a very drastic and unwelcome outcome. Will you at least think about it?”

“I don’t know what to say. Surely there must be some other solution.” Jane jumped up from her chair and paced to the mantelpiece and back. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your offer. Actually, it’s much too kind of you. There’s no need. Well, no, I don’t mean that. Nancy’s safety must be my first consideration, of course, but...”

He had risen and stood easily with booted feet spread slightly apart. “Hush. That’s enough dithering. You’re not a ditherer, Jane. You’re a sensible, straightforward young woman. Though you don’t like it, you know this is the best we’re going to manage for Nancy, and that it’s barely enough.” He held out a hand to her. “Come here.”