Yorkshire (27 page)

“I’m telling you this because you have a right to know, but also to make you understand that you have nothing to fear from me. If you marry me, you’ll still be Richard’s, still see him as much as you wish. He won’t go near Julia if he’s compelled to marry her. If she keeps him to the contract, he’ll go insane if he has to lose you. Probably return to the old Richard, the uncaring, restless one with no heart. He’ll kill himself with debauchery. I can’t watch that without trying to help. I owe him happiness and I want to see him achieve it.” He forced a smile. “I’ve money enough for ten lifetimes, and we like each other, do we not?”

The power of speech returned to me. “And are you still of the same—inclination, sir?”

He laughed at my hesitation. “I’m afraid so, but much more discreet these days, of course. The problem is, everybody knows it. It’s not said to my face, which is much more hurtful, you know, than if they pointed and sneered directly.”

“Why should they? What has it to do with them?” This new information didn’t affect my liking for Gervase at all. It made me angry on his behalf.

He smiled at me, looking so like his brother, but not possessing Richard’s special qualities. “Nothing at all, dear ma’am. One solution is for me to find a complacent wife—one who wouldn’t expect me to perform the impossible. Then there’s the heir. Richard has taken such a dislike to Miss Cartwright, even if he’s forced to marry her, it’s unlikely he would ever consummate the marriage.” I shuddered at the thought and what it would mean to him. “If you and he were…forgive me…intimate, the heir could still appear. Otherwise, the title passes out of the immediate family.”

Gervase would acknowledge the child and it would be the legitimate heir. If Richard’s marriage to Julia remained childless, any child Gervase and I produced would inherit. I began to see what Gervase meant, but the necessity for lifelong subterfuge made my heart weigh heavy in my chest. Still, it would be better than nothing, better than watching him kill himself with excess, better than watching him with another woman, or a plethora of them. “Would Richard agree to this?”

“He may have no choice. He’s signed the contract and they’re due to be married soon. After this visit, he is expected to return to our family seat at Eyton and settle a date. One of the main cards in his hand is that our father wants an heir, and it’s obvious he won’t get one from me. So if Richard refuses to consummate a marriage to a woman not of his choosing and holds out for you, he could win our father over. We would still face a scandal but our father’s support would help to overcome it. But it’s Richard’s only chance. Please think of my offer. It’s an answer of a sort. If you need it, come to me. Will you promise me that?”

I had to think of the practical. “I will promise to come to you if I’m hurt, if it becomes too much to bear. For the rest, I must think about it. Should we keep this from him?”

“I think so, for the time being. I’ve thought it might make him easier in his mind, but I’m not sure. It might make him extremely angry.” I thought that, too. Richard refused to consider any alternative to marrying me but my more cautious nature demanded other courses and this was the best one I’d heard, so far.

Gervase had made me think of the other people involved in this mess, Richard’s sister, his parents, Lizzie, James and Martha, even Miss Cartwright’s family. It would be too selfish of us to cause hurt to them. I wouldn’t feel easy if we did this and all those other people suffered.

Gervase offered a bizarre solution, but it offered a chance to avoid too much hurt to too many people. As to my own feelings about Gervase, I still considered him a kind, gentle and amusing friend. His preferences were his own business. If I married him, I need never know much about them, as long as he was discreet.

With a heavy heart, I had to agree that my marriage to Richard, which we both desired so dearly, might not be possible after all. I thanked Gervase for his concern. “It might work. I promise I’ll think about it.”

He smiled to reassure me. He saw my distress, despite the pain of recalling his story. “Don’t be so downcast. Matters might never come to this.”

I laughed, despite my hurt. “Please don’t think me rude, sir—”

“Gervase, remember. Brother-in-law, husband or friend, but just Gervase.”

“Gervase. I love Richard with all my heart. I’m still taken aback, confused, but I want him very much. I’m saddened to think I might not achieve my heart’s desire, but many people don’t, do they?” He smiled wryly. “Thank you very much for your offer. I promise, I will bear it in mind.”

We went in. He’d brought me back to the earth I should never have left.

Chapter Nineteen

We watched the room for the next two days, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. Lady Hareton and her father spent all their time there, reading, sewing and waiting, as the minister put it, until his leg should be well enough for God to reveal His word. She did everything for her father. She fetched, carried and sewed, and the sewing she kept herself busy with was invariably one of his shirts.

Pritheroe tyrannised his daughter completely. He constantly reminded her of her duty. Rather than behaving like a mature, sensible woman, she bowed her head, saying, “Yes, Father.” It was painful to watch. If the obeisance had been less pronounced, if he’d left her some dignity, given her private time of her own, it would have been better. Now she had no husband to order her, he treated her as though she was back under his jurisdiction.

Lizzie and Gervase made it difficult for Richard and me to have more than a few moments together. My feelings for him were the same, would never, ever change, and I still determined to have him, one way or another.

We snatched a rare half hour together on the second afternoon. I tried to tell him how I felt.

“You may have to marry Miss Cartwright. A breach of promise suit could bankrupt your family and drive them into disgrace.” He looked at me, solemnly, but said nothing. “I want you. I can’t give you up now. I’d be happy to become your mistress, to retire from society, if that would provide an answer. James can disown me, and distance himself from my disgrace.”

“I can’t believe you said that. No one has shown me such generosity before.” He slipped his arm about my shoulders and gave me a gentle kiss. “But it won’t answer, my love. I don’t want you just in my bed, but in my life. I want you as a friend and partner, not merely a bed companion. My dearest love, I don’t want to embarrass you, but you know some women in certain parts of most cities are cheap. When one seeks a certain sort of relief, one body is very much like another, so long as it’s clean. If that was all I wanted, I could find relief somewhere, but I don’t want that. I want you. You have something they don’t have, something none of the society women I’ve—known—possess. You’re the only woman I want in my life, associated with me and my name. I won’t marry Julia. If you come abroad with me, it will be difficult for her to pursue a suit against me. My family will be spared the worst of it.”

I took his hand, thinking of my conversation with his brother. “I trust you. I love you,” I said, but I could make no promises other than personal ones.

“I hear Gervase has spoken to you.” I stiffened in his arms and he looked at me in concern. “Does it give you a dislike of him? I hope not, but many people do feel that way.”

I relaxed. “No—nothing like that. I like him very much.” I would keep Gervase’s counsel and not tell Richard about his brother’s astonishing proposal.

“My parents expended much time and money to keep the whole truth out of the public domain.” His face froze. He held me loosely, as if he’d left me and gone somewhere else. “Yes, it was difficult, but it happened twelve years ago. Society has taken Gervase back to its viperous bosom. Being fabulously wealthy helps, of course.”

“Is he really so rich?”

“Enormously rich. My brother could give Croesus odds. The strong and clever can make fortunes in India. Gervase had also lost his heart, so that helped him too, as he had no distractions. You’ll be marrying the pauper in the family, my love, the poor brother left behind to look after family affairs. Sometimes I think I should have followed him, but my father was so set on one of his sons marrying and begetting he wouldn’t hear of it. Perhaps we will travel, now.”

“You didn’t think of it before?”

“I found the idea of letting someone into my life unthinkable. Until you.”

“Julia?”

“Julia wouldn’t have intruded on my life.” He smiled down at me. “When I look at you I can hardly remember what she looks like.” He drew me closer.

A sound outside made us separate quickly. He put one finger to his lips in a warning gesture and crossed the room to the door. For once, Mr. Pritheroe and his daughter hadn’t appeared that morning. We had been alone.

Through the half open door, we saw Lady Hareton and Mrs. Peters opening the door to the small parlour. They didn’t speak, and except for the rustling of their skirts, they didn’t make a sound. They had their backs to us, otherwise they must have seen us, as the door of our room was only slightly closed, but they seemed intent on their errand. They might have decided to clean the room while Mr. Pritheroe was absent, but they carried no brushes, no cloths and they seemed intent on stealth.

The women closed the door behind them. Richard crossed the room, took the knife out of the drawer in the small table, and beckoned me to follow him.

We went across the hall and stopped outside the door of the small parlour, listening. Richard stood nearest the door and waited until we heard the sound we waited for—the click of the secret panel above the fireplace. Concealing the knife behind him, he opened the door and we went in.

The panel gaped open, and Mrs Peters and Lady Hareton stood before its empty depths. They spun around as we came in, and tried some semblance of the courtesies, both curtseying, trying to hide their confusion, but we didn’t move.

“Didn’t you find it?” said Richard.

A noise indicated Lizzie had returned with sewing. When she saw us, she immediately dropped her work and followed us in.

“Close the door, if you please,” said Richard.

Lizzie obeyed. They must have seen from our faces that we knew what they had been looking for but Mrs. Peters still tried to excuse them. “We found this door, sir. We wondered what might be inside.”

“Treasure?” asked Richard, coolly, still holding the knife behind the skirts of his coat, “An overlooked will, perhaps? Or maybe just an ordinary item.”

Lady Hareton gasped, hand to her mouth. She looked at Mrs. Peters, who glared at us balefully. “Whatever it might be, there’s nothing to link it with anything.” She put up her chin, ready, one would have thought, for the blow.

“You’re quite right.” Richard drew out the knife from behind his coat. It gleamed wickedly. “I thought you might be involved, Mrs. Peters. This knife is so clean there’s not a mark on it. It must have taken a great deal of scrubbing to bring it back to this.” He turned the knife, and it caught the pale November sun, glinting as he turned it.

“It did,” the housekeeper said. “But I don’t think I can be hung for cleaning a knife.”

“One would have thought not,” Richard agreed. “But if it was a particular knife, what then?”

“It has to be shown it was that knife,” Mrs. Peters said, game to the last.

“Dear me, I believe we’ve discovered a mother hen. What has Lady Hareton to do with all this? Did she take pity on you, and agree to help you? Are you, perhaps, a relative?”

“Christ, no. If I were a member of that family, I might have turned the knife on myself.”

“A sensible solution,” Richard agreed urbanely.

Lizzie cried out, “Lady Hareton!”

Richard was only just in time to prevent her falling to the hard wooden floor. He lifted her and put her on one of the comfortless benches that were the only seating the room had to offer. He handed me the knife, and knelt next to the lady, while Lizzie went to the other room, returning with some of the cushions Martha had installed there. Richard lifted Lady Hareton’s head, and placed one of them under it while Mrs. Peters poured a glass of water from the jug on the table.

Richard felt in his pocket, and handed her a small flask, which Mrs. Peters took and opened, sniffing the contents. She seemed satisfied, for she poured a small amount of the tawny liquid into the water, then took Richard’s place by her mistress, and lifted Lady Hareton’s head.

“Come, my lady, take some of this.” Lady Hareton roused a little and did as she was told. She spluttered so much she had to be lifted to a sitting position, but when the housekeeper held the glass to her lips, she took some more.

“Do you think she can be—in the family way?” Lizzie said, and was surprised by the fierce response of the lady kneeling by her mistress.

Mrs. Peters lifted her head once, and said, “No,” but the ravaged expression on her face told us what we needed to know. Then she went back to her charge.

Richard raised his eyebrows, and I took a step back.

Eventually, Lady Hareton regained some of her composure. Lizzie and I sat together on the other hard bench, and Richard stood by the fire. The secret compartment still gaped open behind his head for anyone to see.

“I did it.” That quiet voice, so seldom heard now filled the room. “I cut the strap.”

“No, my lady,” Mrs. Peters said quickly, trying to drown out the quiet voice with her own louder one. “I told you, if you hold fast, they can prove nothing.”