Tuesday's Child (Heroines Born on Each Day of the Week Book 3) (28 page)

“There is nothing to forgive, sir. I am honoured by your proposal-”

“Please don’t refuse me without careful consideration of your unfortunate circumstance,” he interrupted. “I shall understand if you intended to say your heart is buried in your late husband’s grave. Yet, even if it is, a marriage of convenience might have compensations, the least of which would offer you and your son security. What else can I say, other than I would be a kind husband and step-father?”

An image of Mister Markham flitted through her mind. “Colonel Leigh, I appreciate your kind proposal.” She smiled to enforce her gratitude. “Yet, in spite of all the advantages of accepting it, I must decline. It is painful, and perhaps unladylike to be honest, but I shall. When my husband and I first met, I imagined sweet music, which Shakespeare wrote is the food of love, played. Therefore, I hope you will understand I refused your generous offer because our hearts are not engaged.”

Did she detect a hint of relief in the colonel’s hazel eyes?

Colonel Leigh stood and bowed. “In future, I hope you will not regret your decision. Good day to you, my lady.” Without another word he left the room.

Harriet leaned back in her chair. Was she a fool to have refused an honourable gentleman’s offer of marriage? No time to think of his proposal now. She must return to Arthur.

Before she could stand, Plymouth held the door wide open. “Lady Isabel, my lady.”

Her sister-in-law, gowned in a pale grey cambric morning gown, advanced across the floor, a tiny flask of smelling salts held to her nose. “I am shocked, Lady Castleton,” she announced in a low tone, giving the impression it fatigued her, and sank onto the chair next to Harriet’s. “Shocked by my conclusion that someone loosened the girth of your son’s pony with the intention of-” Once more, she applied the smelling salts. “I don’t deny the knowledge of your existence and Lord Castleton’s has flabbergasted the family. Nevertheless, you must not think any of us are wicked enough to make an attempt on his lordship’s life. I am convinced a careless groom is to blame for the loose girth.”

Harriet shrugged. “Maybe.”

The unconcealed antagonism in Lady Isabel’s eyes contrasted with her languid manner and the gentle tone of voice in which she spoke.

“My lady, please excuse me, I must return to the nursery.”

Isobel’s hands fluttered, giving the impression of e a helpless being scarcely able to breathe. “A moment more of your time, she requested, insistence creeping into her voice. “I admit my father has foibles, but, please believe I am shocked by his attempt to add to your sweet child’s distress by trying to force him to kill his pony.”

“Foibles!” Harriet stared at her sister-in-law, sufficiently furious to fear that, if she spoke, she would release a stream of invective more suited to an ill-bred soldier.

“Perhaps I should have said faults.” Isobel veiled her eyes with her eyelashes. Eyes that had expressed more than she might have wished. “Don’t be angry, Lady Castleton. I am a mother, so I can imagine your distress. I have come to offer you a respite from Clarencieux Abbey. Jack and I have delayed our departure to give you time to have your bandboxes packed and accompany us. If you wish, you may stay with us for as long as you wish.”

For another attempt to be made on Arthur’s life? The years during which Harriet followed the drum had sharpened her wits. She remembered a provost marshal’s claim that sometimes the most unlikely person was guilty of the worst crime.

Fear for her son’s life almost overwhelmed her. What should she do to keep him safe? Where, she asked herself yet again, could we go?

Pride stiffened her spine. “Lady Isobel, thank you for your kind invitation, which I must decline.” She stood with the intention of returning to the nursery.

Isobel turned the tiny silver-chased bottle around and around in her hand “Ah, you mistrust us. You are wrong to do so. Although Jack was in the stable yard a little earlier than either my father or Lord Castleton, he would never have been wicked enough to loosen the girth.”

Perhaps not, but that did not mean her sister-in-law had not bribed a groom or a stable boy to do so. Before she could reply, Plymouth opened the door to admit Viscount Buckley and his wife.

After Buckley’s description of his circumstances, she had doubted he was guilty of attempted murder, nevertheless he might have lied. Maybe he was a gamester, who lost so much on the turn of a card that his estates were mortgaged. And what of Lady Katherine? She might be the culprit.

“Lady Castleton,” Buckley began, “It is out of the question for you to remain here with a father-in-law who is more than queer in the attic; so

my wife and I invite you to visit us until you decide on your future. It is out of the question for you to remain here with a father-in-law who is more than queer in the attic.”

“Yes, indeed, you and your son cannot remain here, so you are welcome to visit us,” Lady Katherine confirmed, without the least trace of warmth in her voice.

Harriet shook her head. She would not, could not stay with anyone who might slip poison into Arthur’s food or drink, send him tumbling down a flight of stairs in the hope he would break his neck, or try to murder him by other means. “Thank you for your invitation, which I cannot accept...”

Frantic to secure her son’s safety, her thoughts darted hither and thither. The sooner she left the abbey the better Clarencieux the better it would be, but she did not trust any of her in-laws.

Yet again Plymouth opened the door. “My lady, Mister Markham is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

At last, someone I can depend on without reservation!  Harriet walked towards the door. She reached it, then turned around. “Lord Buckley, Lady Katherine, Lady Isobel, thank you for your kind offers, which I appreciate.”

Buckley took his tortoiseshell snuff box out of his pocket. “You will not accept either of them because you have no faith in us?”

She hesitated before she answered. “In my circumstances, my lord, would you know upon whom to rely ?

* * *

Before Harriet went downstairs, she returned to the nursery, where, at the sight of Jack with Arthur on his knees, she lingered by the door while her son chatted to his cousin.

“I thought Grandpapa was nice. He gave me Prince.” Arthur’s lips quivered. “When I asked him for some toy soldiers he bought them for me as well as little cannons and horses. He goes riding with me, and has given me lots of things. I thought he loved me, but if he did he would not have…not have-”

Harriet looked at Bessie, who stood in a space between a cupboard and the wall watching the cousins.

Arthur put his thumb in his mouth, something he had not done since they came to Clarencieux.

“I don’t know if you are old enough to understand people like our grandfather love themselves more than they love anyone else.” Jack looked around the nursery, appearing not to know how to explain and excuse the unforgiveable. When he noticed her, he inclined his head. “With Nurse’s permission, Arthur and I discussed what happened before breakfast.”

Surely Jack could not have made an attempt on Arthur’s life. Certainly, he did not condone her father-in-law’s decision to slaughter the pony.

Unbidden, the memory of magnificent cavalry horses wounded in battle, and unable to stand despite their struggles, came to Harriet’s mind. The poor creatures, loved by their riders, most of whom died in the battle, had neighed and whinnied, pleading for help. Curse the earl!

“Lady Castleton,” a male voice said from behind her.

Harriet turned around and saw the Stantons. She repressed a chuckle born of hysteria at the thought of them also coming to offer her help?

While Sarah Stanton clutched her two-year-old son in her arms, Gerald Stanton shook his head. “Shocking, who could have been so wicked?”

“I would prefer you not to discuss this in my son’s presence.”

Gerald clasped his hands over his paunch. “Quite so, quite so. We came to see how Lord Castleton is.”

“Thank you.”

“Does Arthur know someone tried to kill him?” Harriet swallowed and prayed he did not.

Sarah Stanton stooped, put the two year-old on the floor, and gazed fondly down at him. “We thought Lord Castleton would like to play with our son.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. “I think Frederick is too young to play with a four year-old.”

Gerald glanced at Bessie. “Lady Castleton, we would like a private word with you.”

Bessie came forward and sat on the floor near Frederick. “My lord, perhaps you and Master Frederick would enjoy rolling  your ball back and forwards to each other.”

Harriet gestured to the Stantons. “Come.” 

Gerald followed her, looked back saw his wife hesitate. He beckoned to his wife. “My love?”

“Frederick?” Sarah asked.

“Will come to no harm, while we speak to Lady Castleton.” 

“Take good care of him, Nurse.” Sarah sighed, and followed her husband into Arthur’s bedroom.

When the door shut, Gerald spoke. “Lady Castleton, a force too strong to resist has impelled me to speak to you.”

Harriet thought of Mister Markham, the only person she wanted to talk to. “Mister Stanton, I only have time for a brief word with you.”

Gerald gazed at her without a hint of sympathy or warmth in his eyes. “The Lord demands honesty so I shall obey.”

“Which lord?” Harriet asked.

He shook his head, either with reproach or because he believed she lacked intelligence. “I was about to say that if The Lord God took your son to his bosom I would become my Uncle’s heir.” He waved a finger at Harriet. “No, no, I did not mean to distress you. I came to assure you neither I nor my dear wife would ever be wicked enough to make an attempt on an innocent child’s life.”

Suspicious, Harriet caught her lower lip between her teeth as she scrutinised his face. He had more to gain by her son’s death than anyone else.

“What is more we cannot approve of my uncle’s shocking attempt to force Arthur to shoot his pony.” A shake of Gerald’s head emphasised his words. “If you do not wish to remain at Clarencieux, Mrs Stanton and I would be pleased to accommodate you.”

“Thank you for your kind offer which I shall consider -” 

“Don’t refuse without careful consideration,” he broke in. “It is my Christian duty to help you and your fatherless child.” He glanced at his wife, who stood motionless with her head bent. “Mrs Stanton, please tell Lady Castleton she and her son would be welcome at the rectory.”

“Yes, indeed you would, for one cannot help sympathising with you.” Sarah said, in even tones as though she were like a puppet manipulated by her husband.

“Thank you for your invitation but I shall not impose on you and your husband, so there is no more to be said. Shall we return to the nursery?”

Harriet held the door open for the Stantons, and smiled at the sound of Arthur’s giggle.

On all fours, Jack looked towards her. “You see me at a disadvantage, Aunt Castleton.” He scrambled to his feet, heightened colour in his cheeks.

“A bear,” Arthur shouted, “Cousin Jack pretended to be a bear.”

“You should not over excite children,” Mrs Stanton protested.

Bessie picked up Frederick and handed him to his mother, while Jack, in spite of Arthur’s protest, left the nursery, followed by Mrs Stanton.

“You are  welcome, most welcome to stay with us,” Mister Stanton persisted, before he followed his wife.

Certain Bessie would keep a close watch on Arthur, Harriet went to the drawing room in which Mister Markham waited.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dominic bowed when Harriet entered the drawing room. A swift glance at her pale face aroused his compassion and confirmed his decision. “You may tell Lord Castleton that, whenever he wishes, he is welcome to visit Prince to see the pony is contented in his new stable.”

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

“There is no need to thank me.”

Do unshed tears glint in her ladyship’s eyes? Dominic asked himself before he spoke again. “My lady, please accept my sympathy. Your situation is intolerable.”

Harriet sank onto a chair. “You are not the first person to say so. Lady Isobel, the Buckleys and the Stantons also expressed the same sentiment, and assured me they were not guilty of attempted murder. Each of them suggested Arthur and I should visit them. Of course, I refused their invitations.”

Dominic took a seat. “Because you don’t trust any of them?”

She nodded.

“Although I understand why you declined, you cannot remain here. Until now, Pennington has been considered eccentric. Today, his behaviour indicates his intellect is unsound.”

“You are charitable, Mister Markham. I think he is as crazy as a mad dog.”

Dominic chuckled. “Amongst other things, I admire your forthrightness.”

Harriet’s arched eyebrows rose but she did not respond to his compliment.

“When I first set eyes on you kneeling by your son after he nearly drowned, I compared you to an exquisite fairy with a crown of glorious brown hair.” He smiled. “Now, I believe you wove magic when I first looked into your beautiful blue eyes.”

Colour crept into Harriet’s cheeks. “Lud, sir, you flatter me. I am a mere mortal incapable of weaving magic.”

“Don’t you believe there is more than one kind of spell? I do, and I confess that I am bound by yours?”

“Please don’t flirt with me.”

“I am not.”

Her long eyelashes fluttered, then stilled, concealing her eyes.

“Lady Castleton, please look at me. I know you love your son, and would do anything to protect him. so, you must agree it is plain neither of you should remain here. At first, I intended to invite you and Lord Castleton to stay at the rectory until other arrangements can be made.”

Discomposed when Harriet laughed, Dominic broke off.

“I apologise for my amusement.” She gazed up at him. “Mister Markham, you know, you are not the only person to offer to accommodate us up. Thankfully, unlike another gentleman, who asked me to marry him, you have not made a well-meaning proposal of a marriage of convenience, which would protect me and my son.”

His blood seemed to freeze. She would not, could not marry for such reason.  “Did you turn him down?”

Harriet nodded. “Yes, I explained that when my husband and I first met, the sweet music, which Shakespeare described as the food of love, seemed to play. So, I hope he understood I could never agree to such a marriage.”

“Even if he did not, I understand.” Dominic clenched his hands. “When I suggested to Gwenifer that we should invite you to stay at the rectory, she feared that, if you agreed, it might cause scandal. Her recommendation is for you put up with my parents until your future is decided.”

Harriet sighed. “My future? What future? Perhaps it would be for the best if Arthur and I drown in the lake.” She put her hands over her face. “No, don’t listen to me. I am foolish beyond belief.”

“Not so, you are frightened.” Shocked by her reaction, Dominic knelt by her chair. “Look at me, Lady Castleton. Matters are better than you know. He clasped her hands in his. “I have received an answer to one of the advertisements.”

Her eyes widened. “Good news?”

“Yes, it seems so. Your father’s nephew, Sir Julian, has written. He hopes to meet you when he visits London in the second week of September, and invites you to call on him with your son.”

Harriet sprang up from her chair like an excited child. “A cousin! I have a cousin. My own flesh and blood. Thank you, Mister Markham, thank you for your help.”

When he stood, Lady Castleton hugged him. Fire raged through Dominic. With an urgent finger, he tilted her chin towards him. For a second, her eyes blazed. With desire? She turned her head aside. “I am sorry.” When she tried to withdraw from his arms, he could not bear to let go of her.

Pennington entered the drawing room. “A tender scene. It touches my heart,” he drawled.

Dominic held back a curse. Absorbed in each other he and Harriet had not heard the door open.

Pennington’s eyes gleamed. “I shall arrange a splendid wedding breakfast. My dear child, after you go to your new home, Arthur and I shall live here.”

Like an agile mother cat with claws extended to attack her tormentor, Harriet turned in Dominic’s arms. “I would never abandon Arthur to your care. Besides-”

“Good day,” said Major Tarrant, who had followed the earl with his wife. “I hope Mrs Tarrant and I are not interrupting an important discussion.”

“You!” Pennington glared at them while Dominic released Harriet.

Georgianne smiled. “Lady Castleton, may I be the first to congratulate you on your betrothal to Mister Markham, whose acquaintance I look forward to furthering?” The expression in her china-blue eyes hard, she looked at Pennington as though she considered to be him no more than a fillet of malodourous fish. “It is out of the question for Arthur to remain with his grandfather after the wedding.”

In turn, the earl sniffed as if he smelt something offensive. “Mrs Tarrant, Arthur’s future is my concern. I once told you that I have never harmed a child so there is no reason why my grandson should not live with me.”

“There is every reason-” Harriet began.

Georgianne’s hand waved her to silence. “Lady Castleton, since I introduced you to your father-in-law, you have been much on my mind. Due to his character I wondered if you would have done better to forge a new life elsewhere. A life my husband and I would have facilitated.”

“Thank you. Indeed, Arthur and I should not have accepted my father-in-law’s hospitality.

Pennington took a step towards the major’s wife. “Mrs Tarrant, there is no need to concern yourself with either my heir or his mother. I have provided for them. When she marries Mister Markham, I shall give Lady Castleton a generous dowry and take good care of Arthur.” If his tone of voice could have turned Mrs Tarrant into a pillar of ice, it would have done so.

Dominic frowned. Petite as Harriet, Mrs Tarrant’s self-assurance compensated for her diminutive height.

“You are mistaken, my lord.” Harriet spoke clearly and slowly. “I will not relinquish my son, and I will not accept a dowry from you.”

Major Tarrant inclined his head towards Harriet. “I understand why you no longer wish to be under any obligation to your father-in-law.” He bowed. “Lady Castleton, Mister Markham, may I add my congratulations to my wife’s?  Indeed, Lady Castleton, Mrs Tarrant has been concerned about your welfare. Since you cannot wish to stay here for a moment longer than necessary, you are welcome to visit us for an indefinite period.”

Anxious, Dominic looked at Harriet. The Tarrants had witnessed Harriet enfolded in his arms. What would the major and his wife think of them if they declared a misunderstanding occurred, and explained they were not betrothed? Dominic squeezed Harriet’s hand to warn her not to declare she would not marry him.

Mrs Tarrant smiled. “Harriet, I am sure my husband is right. I daresay you wish to be gone without delay. I suggest you order the servants to pack for you and Arthur. Afterwards we may immediately be on our way.”

Dominic squeezed Harriet’s hand again to warn her not to arouse suspicion. “In spite of your kind-heartedness, I regret we must disappoint you, Mrs Tarrant. Lady Castleton and I have decided she and her son will visit my parents.” Dominic squeezed Harriet’s hand again to warn her not to arouse suspicion.

“No!” Pennington pointed at his daughter-in-law. “Arthur shall not take one step out of the abbey with that woman. I have enough strong footmen to prevent him leaving. As for you and your husband, Mrs Tarrant, neither of you are welcome here. Leave Clarencieux Abbey now.”

“I think not!” Georgianne exclaimed before Harriet could speak. With complete composure she sat on a sofa. “All of you, please seat yourselves.”

Major Tarrant obeyed, his false leg stretched out in front of him. Dominic escorted Lady Castleton to a chair. He stood next to it instead of sitting down. Pennington, his face a furious mask of powder and rouge, remained on his feet, his back to the fireplace.

“If Lady Castleton wishes to, we shall leave with her and her son.” Georgianne waved her forefinger at Pennington. “My lord,” she began, her intonation making a mockery of the title, “you seem to have forgotten my wedding day when, in spite of my guardian’s consent, you burst into the church in an attempt to prevent the marriage. Have you also forgotten that, outraged by my refusal to become your wife, you later kidnapped Barbara, my youngest sister in an attempt to take your revenge? Next, you tried to blackmail me by forcing me to agree to spend a night in your bed before you released my sister.”

If Mrs Tarrant intended to kill the earl in a duel, her eyes could not have been more deadly.

“Even kidnapping a little girl did not enough to satisfy you,” she continued, in an ice cold, level tone, “you abducted Helen, my younger sister, with the intention of marrying her with the hope she would bear you a son.”

Horrified by the revelations, Dominic gazed at Harriet. To judge by her rounded eyes, her astonishment seemed to match his own.

“Why are you dredging up the past?” The earl’s hands trembled. He clasped them together. “It can be of no interest to anyone.”

“Can it not?” Georgianne’s laughter mocked Pennington. “The broadsheets are always willing to report crimes, and there are some the ton will never forgive. Do you wish to be ostracised? If the truth is told, I would not be surprised if you were no longer welcome at your London club. And I doubt you would be received at court.”

“Damn you!” Pennington shook from head to foot, and maquillage could not conceal his cheeks, scarlet with rage. “You are mistaken, it is you and your sisters who would be ruined.”

“In a worthy cause, if it prevented you from spoiling Lady Castleton and her child’s lives,” Georgianne retorted.

Dominic whistled low. His respect for the lady increased with every word she spoke.

“And,” drawled the major, “Don’t forget my wife’s pocket pistol which she threatened you with when she rescued her younger sister. Armed with the pistol and her dagger she is worthy of her father, who was a gallant officer in The Glory Boys.” With a strong resemblance to a crocodile gliding towards potential prey, the major eyed Pennington. “We shall not linger to partake of nuncheon.” He stood. “Come, my love. Our bandboxes have been packed and loaded onto the carriage.”

Tarrant bowed to Harriet. “Please remember that should you ever be in need, my wife and I are at your service. Mister Markham, if your future wife and stepson have caused to complain, you shall be answerable to my wife. And,” he smiled ruefully, “believe me, it is something no gentleman with a sense of self-preservation would wish. Honesty compels me to admit I cower when her temper is aroused.”

Georgianne laughed. “Nonsense Tarrant. What a shocking fabrication. Don’t believe him. Good day to you, Harriet, Mister Markham.”

She ignored Pennington when, her arm linked with her husband’s, they left the drawing room.

The earl scowled and followed the Tarrants out of the room.

Alone with Dominic, still perched on the edge of the gilt-legged chair, Harriet looked up at him. “What should we do? My mind is awhirl. I was grateful to my father-in-law for providing a roof over my head and Arthur’s, but I never liked him.” Agitated, she clasped her hands together. “No matter how shocked I am by Mrs Tarrant’s revelations; I cannot impose on you or your parents.”