The Purloined Papers (17 page)

So Chloe had ducked into the music room. She needed to practice. After two years as Laura’s companion, she found that her fingers were rusty – bad news if she hoped to teach. It was the largest drawback of Moorside – even worse than Laura herself. Laura had no interest in music, so the cottage lacked an instrument.

Buying a pianoforte would be Chloe’s first act after resigning.

There was so much she needed to do immediately, she admitted as her fingers moved into Mozart’s
Sonata in C
. Find a companion. Find a cook – Sally had never cooked in her life. Let people know that she was accepting students. And brace for Peter’s censure. His pride was as strong as their father’s. He would be furious to find her at Rose Cottage. And despite his having no legal control over her, his antagonism could drive away potential students.

Setting up her own establishment had already become more complicated than she’d expected. She had planned this step for six years, yet she hadn’t considered the details. Now a new problem occurred to her several times a day. But she would manage.

She repeated the first movement of the Mozart, her fingers moving with more confidence this time. The music lightened her heart. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d missed it.

Living near Exeter meant that her neighbors would know her as an honorable lady forced to make her own way because of poverty. That would make it easier to attract students. And if some of those students initially came out of pity, she could bear it. They would stay because of her talent.

The upper classes would react differently, of course. In their world – her former world – ladies did not live alone. Breaking those rules would make her a pariah. Never again could she attend a gathering such as this. Her social status would fall below that of a governess – on a par with shopkeepers.

Peter will do more than rant, warned a voice in her head.

Her fingers stumbled. Once she’d regained the flow of notes, she considered her brother.

She had assumed that abandoning her class to live alone and teach would end his interest. But that might not be true. He might drive away students so she wouldn’t humiliate him. Or he might sell her into marriage without disclosing her situation – her breeding remained. And she would have little recourse. Her guardian, Mr. Barry, was straitlaced. If one of Peter’s friends compromised her, Mr. Barry would demand marriage.

Perhaps she should move away. She would lose the advantage of knowing her potential students, but severing all ties to Devonshire would prevent Peter from using her. It was such an obvious solution that she cursed herself for not seeing it sooner. It would have saved Andrew the bother of visiting the house agent.

Regret that she would never see Andrew again made her fingers stumble. His voice echoed: 
How can you live with her?

Only now did she admit that working for Laura meant that she heard news about Andrew.

Pathetic.

The dreams hadn’t died. Instead they lurked in her heart, sabotaging any chance of happiness. She was no better than Laura, unwilling to accept that childish fantasies could never be real.

Andrew had spoken the truth even before that day in the orchard, though she had not listened. She’d been so sure that she could convince him to wed her. But a boy of sixteen had no interest in marriage, no matter what his feelings. His duty had lain with the army. Her duty lay at home. Thus they’d had no future together. She should have set aside her infatuation and found a real suitor.

His morning description of the army’s hardships convinced her that she could not have endured such a life. While she was prepared to live in a cottage, she could not tolerate mud, dirt, and discomfort. Andrew rarely stayed in one spot for long. He owned few possessions. His life contained no music, no beauty, and very little pleasure.

And it never would. His next post might offer worse conditions.

So she had to forget the air dreams of childhood. They had already cost her any chance of marriage. It was time to concentrate on the future – which would be easier away from Devonshire. If she remained, she would hear news of him, keeping the dream alive even if he were gone for another eleven years. It was better to sever all connections.

Moving would make it harder to attract students, so she must conserve money. The easiest way would be to forgo a companion – possible if she were a widow. And changing her name would prevent Peter from finding her. If anyone asked about her husband, she could describe Kevin’s death.

Her fingers sped into the sonata’s third movement as her mind raced. Retaining her background as the daughter of a baronet would enhance her position as a teacher. Sally could be an old family retainer pressed into duty as a companion and maid of all work. They could find someone to cook and help with the cleaning.

Excitement swelled along with the coda.

* * * *

“What the devil happened to Laura?” demanded William, dragging Andrew into the library after dinner. They had endured half an hour of tension before releasing the gentlemen to join the ladies.

“What do you mean?”

William ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture he hadn’t used in years. “I can’t believe that outburst at dinner. She’s always been gracious, except … well … there was that unpleasantness in London two years ago, but devil it, what happened tonight?  I thought she’d mellowed.”

Andrew had been bracing for this discussion from the moment he’d realized that William knew nothing of substance about Laura. “When did you last see her?”

“A year ago. She spent a very pleasant week here … well … there was a bit of a tiff with Martha, but it was all a misunderstanding. They settled their differences easily enough.”

Andrew clenched his fists to keep from pounding his brother. “Don’t you pay attention to anything but estate matters?” he demanded. “That tiff, as you call it, occurred because Laura told everyone in Exeter that Martha had had a flaming affair with Jasper Rankin before he left for the Caribbean. Martha was nearly drummed out of town. Only the fact that Mrs. Telcor recognized Laura’s tactics – she knew that Laura had concocted a similar story to destroy a rival in London – saved Martha from ostracism.”

“What?”

“Ostracism. Pay attention. If I had realized how oblivious you were to what happens around you, I would have argued against inviting her. Instead I believed you, which meant I didn’t realize the full danger until I’d dragged her here.”

“Nonsense. She has always been sweet – helping the tenants, caring for the villagers, working beside Catherine in the parish.”

“That was ten years ago, and you should know that Laura uses smiles and flattery to manipulate people. I can’t recall a single favor that wasn’t motivated by self-interest. Now that she lives on her own, she has discarded the false smiles that kept Father in line and honed her grievances – and believe me, she’s found someone to blame for every setback she’s suffered in the last ten years. Now she’s out for revenge. Tonight was just a sample. Chloe thinks she can control her, but I doubt anyone can. Laura cooperates only when it will gain her something. I told her that I’ll smear her name from one end of the kingdom to the other if she embarrasses you, but tonight proves that my threats won’t work. If she no longer cares what people think of her, her need for revenge will take precedence.”

“Dear Lord.”  William wrung his hands. “What can we do?  She’ll drive Martha away. She has to leave.”

“It’s a little late for that. Chloe is quitting on Sunday, so you can’t send Laura back to Moorside until you find a new companion. In the meantime, we must minimize the damage. Warn Martha to ignore Laura’s diatribes. I’ll ask Gray and Rockhurst to help watch her so we can nip the next attempt in the bud. And it might be a good idea to confine her to her room for a day. That might shock her into behaving once she again joins the company.”

William shook his head like a dog ridding itself of water. “Don’t exaggerate, Andrew. Laura is probably just irritated from her journey – you know she hates bouncing over rutted roads – but she always recovers from these starts.”  He stiffened his spine, pouring a glass of brandy as he spoke. “I should not have panicked. This is the first time in a year Laura has been out in society, so of course she is nervous. I’ll talk to her. When she realizes that we still admire her beauty, she will settle down.”

“I doubt it.”  Andrew paced to the window and back. “Face it, William. You have seen her only twice in four years. Last year she entertained herself by destroying Martha’s reputation. The year before, she was recuperating from her wounds. I was here at the same time, and I know very well she spent most of that period ranting and swearing revenge. From what I’ve witnessed this past week, she is rapidly losing her grip on reality.”

“What are you talking about?”

Andrew accepted brandy, then described Laura’s reaction to Sir Nigel’s death and her tirade in the carriage. By the end, even William admitted that she would likely cause trouble. But he still refused to punish her.

* * * *

“So this is where you went,” said Andrew from the music room doorway. “Why aren’t you in the drawing room?”

Chloe’s fingers crashed to a dissonant halt. She opened her mouth to order him away, but brought her tongue under control before she made a fool of herself. “The moment Laura sees me, she’ll explode in rage. It is best if she does it in private.”  She shrugged.

“Don’t let her treat you like a slave.”  His face darkened.

“That is part of my job. And ranting at me diverts her antagonism from others. You should not have thwarted her this evening, for even tiny setbacks make her worse. Don’t give her a complaint against you.”

“I can take it.”

“Don’t, Andrew. It would embarrass William to have you publicly brawling with your sister. Besides, she will probably blame me, not you, anyway.”

“What can she possibly blame on you?”  He sounded incredulous.

She shook her head, dropping her hands into her lap. “You foiled her plot to make me miss dinner, which encourages me to look above my station – that is something she must nip in the bud. My seat at the table bestowed the same consequence as hers – more proof that I am plotting to upstage her. Several people looked closely at her face. She will think they are gloating over her misfortune – again my fault because I advocated attending this gathering, and my application of rice powder failed to conceal the damage. You criticized her at dinner, drawing censure upon her head. Since you also championed me, I must have asked you to mortify her.”

“She acts more like a four-year-old than four-and-twenty. At this rate, she could end up in an asylum.”

“It may come to that, though she’s not truly delusional.”

“Explain.”

“If she actually believed that black was white, she would not need to manipulate people into following her lead. She clings to her complaints, though. And she cannot accept that she is no longer perfect.”

“She never was.”  He joined her on the bench. “It makes me sick to think of you waiting on her.”

He was so near, she could feel the heat from his body. Flustered, she changed the subject, reminding herself of her future – and his. “I’ve done some serious thinking since we last spoke. Buying a cottage in this area is a bad idea. I should move farther away, where Peter can’t find me.”

He stiffened. “Why?”

She folded her hands in her lap. “His pride will push him into interfering with my business. He has enough credit to drive away students.”

He nodded. “I never really knew Peter. How did he become so different from you and Kevin?”

“Peter inherited Father’s poor judgment and need for instant success. But he missed the pride in family and consideration for future generations that Kevin learned from birth – by the time Peter left the nursery, Father no longer cared about his children. Once Kevin died, it was too late to groom him to be the heir. The wild gaming started immediately. He and Father never met after that without conflict.”  When he touched her hand, she moved to the window. His heat raised awareness of everything she couldn’t have. “Not that they’d gotten along earlier. Peter frequently demanded money. His allowance was smaller than Kevin’s had been.”

“That is no surprise. He was a younger son. Mine was smaller than William’s.”

“But Peter wanted a fortune of his own, and he shared Father’s impatience. Even before Kevin died, he was bent on making money. Afterward, it became an obsession. By the time he left Eton two years later, Father had covered massive gaming debts at least three times. He could no longer afford Oxford, so Peter came home – which made him worse.”

“So Peter inherited Sir Nigel’s weaknesses, while Kevin received your mother’s – the sensitivity and indecisiveness. You are lucky to have inherited your parents’ strengths.”

She stifled warmth from the compliment. “That’s why Kevin’s death killed her. Oh, her body lived another six years, but she died the day we heard the news. When I accepted this post with Laura, I hadn’t spoken to her in more than a year. Nor had Peter.”

“How sad.”

“True, though it made her death easier to bear. The grief had abated long before.”

Andrew moved behind her, sliding his arms around her waist in a gesture of comfort. He’d known that Chloe would feel Kevin’s death deeply, but he’d never considered how it would affect the rest of the family.

His elbow brushed a breast, snapping his libido to attention. Lust scalded every nerve, shocking him into silence. Again he had acted without thinking.

He released her, praying that she had noticed nothing wrong. He could not remind her of that meeting in the orchard. If he seduced her again, she would hate him forever. And if he rekindled her infatuation, he would hate himself.

Wishing he’d left for London before Sir Nigel’s death, he groped in vain for something to say.

She beat him to it. “In the end, Peter and Father were exactly alike. Both wanted money but lacked the patience to earn it by improving the estate or investing wisely. Both were gamesters. Father convinced himself that wild investments were more honorable than cards or dice, but the result was the same.”