A Lady's Vanishing Choices (17 page)

Chapter 20

Late the next day, Royce strode into the doctor’s place. After the greeting and introductions, Royce came directly to the point. “I don’t want to waste your valuable time. I need information about one of your deceased patients. Her name was Joliet Savoy. I believe she died some weeks ago.”

“Yes. That is so. I believe she passed on a Thursday three weeks hence.”

If he had the date correct, that was a week before Perry’s murder
.
So she sold his watch and fob from the grave. “You’re certain of the date?”

“Yes. The night she died, her friend kept watch. A pretty little thing she was, Mrs. Fronsworth. She devoted herself to nursing my patient until the end.” He sighed. “I appreciated her help. She lives down in Billingsham. I kept track. I may call on her for help from time to time.”

“Excellent. I assume you have her direction.” A hint of anticipation tightened Royce’s nerves. At long last, he might be close to an answer.

“Certainly. Why do you want it?”

“As the Lord Lieutenant of the county, I have a few questions for her about her friendship with the deceased.”

“I have it here somewhere.” The doctor fumbled in a draw and came up with the address in Billingsham and copied it for Royce. “Good journey. I hope you find her a help.”

Royce slipped the set of directions into his pocket and with a nod of appreciation, he strode out the door. Gratified by the hint of another clue, he mounted and rode for home. The new information must wait until he had Bethany married and safe in his charge.

A hot breath of wind rustled the branches over the narrow path where Bethany stood. She doubled over again and wished she could die while she heaved into the thick bushes beside the track. For the last few mornings, nausea twisted her insides until she relieved her stomach of its content. What could possibly be wrong? So gripped by her illness, she was hardly aware of the drum of hooves pounding the dirt behind her.

“What the blazes?” Royce exclaimed. His stallion danced around when the harsh bit jabbed its tender mouth. He dismounted in one fluid motion and knelt beside her.

“Go away,” she wailed, still holding her stomach, shoulders slumped and shaking from weakness. Why was he the one to discover her like this?

“Are you daft? What are you doing out here and ill along with it?” he snarled, emitting an oath under his breath. “You were safe until you abandoned my home. Now, you’ve set yourself up as a target again.”

Hot tears filled her eyes and resentment crawled through her. A target indeed, and she’d learned nothing from her efforts. How else could she discover the identity of the culprit? She managed to invest a great deal of sarcasm into her words. “Just so. I couldn’t stay in your home forever. I had no choice. If Uncle Arthur discovered where I passed the night, he would have an apoplexy, and I would be in serious straits.”

“My dear, Bethany, what do you call this? I dare say you are in deep difficulties now.” He swept her up into his arms.

She couldn’t keep the trill of alarm from rising. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you back to the hall.”

His firmed jaw and the exasperation in his tone warned her a fight against him would be useless. Nevertheless, she twisted in his embrace and cried, “Put me down.”

She found being held against him intensely disturbing. When his breath touched the side of her face and feathered against her throat, she found the intimate embrace overwhelming. With a pounding heart and fluttering stomach, she slipped an arm around his shoulders. “Put me down.”

His voice chilled while he berated her. “Don’t take that tone with me, young lady. I’m furious with you. You walked straight back into the arms of danger when I told you I’d keep you safe. What did you expect to happen to you over at the manor?”

Fighting against the longing to remain in his arms and total exhaustion, she lowered her voice. “I don’t know. Regardless, I couldn’t remain under your roof indefinitely.”

He stared directly into her eyes with a blaze in his own. “Your logic is astounding. Bird-witted, twisted thinking, and you mouth such dribble. You should have known I’d offer for you. As my wife, it shall be your duty to abide with me.”

Surprised, she stiffened before spouting, “You never mentioned marriage before. You’ve held me in contempt, and you seem suspicious of me for some unknown reason. How was I to know? Why now?”

“You should have known I would correct my mistake. Although Mrs. Tackler is trustworthy and was there to chaperon, I should never have taken you to the hall. A couple of tittering maids couldn’t resist the temptation to spread the tale. The entire village is alight with speculations and finger pointing. Your reputation is in tatters. It’s my duty to restore your good name.”

Although she remained in his arms, she pushed back and sucked in a breath. “And that’s the reason you offered to marry me—duty?”

The light of battle entered his eyes again. “It’s a perfectly legitimate reason. And I want you safe and under my eye. I won’t allow another man to claim you, so don’t think it.”

Her spirit sank. She was a mistake he wished to correct. What a lowering reflection.

His voice lowered to a coaxing level. “I want you in my bed, to touch you, and to hold you in the night. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I met you. You want me too.”

She drew a shuddering breath.
She was powerless to resist him while he held her and he knew it.
After studying Royce for a long minute, she said, “I still must have my uncle’s permission to marry.”

“No, you need your guardian’s permission. I obtained the necessary documents from you true guardian, Phillip Clarke. He’s your mother’s brother.” Royce took two long strides toward his mount.

“My stomach. Leave me here until it settles.” In spite of her words, she gripped his shoulders even tighter.

“You seriously expect me to abandon you here beside the path, and you so weak you can hardly stand alone?” He glared at her, his tone suggesting she’d lost her mind. Mounting with her in his arms, he urged his horse into a gentle walk. His voice seemed to steady at a lower pitch. “When did this malaise strike you?”

She considered his question and let out a small gasp. “The evening I returned to the manor.” Allowing her head to droop onto his shoulder, she gave up the struggle against his stronger will.

“Have you considered you might have been poisoned?”

Thankfully, the swaying of the horse’s gait didn’t add to her misery. “Not until you mentioned the possibility.” She shivered. “I’m afraid.”

“No need. I’m here, but someone is certainly out to silence you for a purpose we need to discover. The perpetrator of Perry’s murder and the attempts on your life must be uncovered. Leave it in my hands, least you succumb to the villain as well.” His voice firmed and he delivered an edict, “You are not returning to that house.”

While he carried her, he reflected on his handling of the situation and his own loss of control. Did he have regrets? Oh, he had regrets, deep regrets at the way he had dealt with her illness, even at the way he’d offered marriage. He’d made a mistake by letting his anger at the situation spin out of control.

The necessity of holding his horse to a fast walk for Bethany’s sake allowed a sensation of satisfaction to engulf him. This was where she belonged. She trembled still, and his lips tightened. The matter was too important to allow her to reject him, however much he might deserve her censure. He would have none of it. Pulling her closer, he brushed his lips against her hair, dismounted, and carried her into the hall where his cousin stood in the doorway.

“This is becoming a disturbing habit,” John said and followed Royce up the stairs.

When Royce reemerged from her chamber, he strode over to where John waited, his mind churning with what had happened to Bethany.

“What occurred this time?”

“There is little doubt someone tried to poison her more than once in the last few days. Luckily, her stomach kept rejecting whatever she drank or ate.”

“Likely she knows something she shouldn’t,” John supplied. “What’s to be done?”

Rage boiled up in Royce at the threat to Bethany’s life. “In a few minutes, I’m going to confront Arthur Littleton and inform him of my upcoming nuptials. I shall be tempted to laugh in his miserable face when he discovers I hold a letter from her actual guardian and a special license for the ceremony.”

Royce marched out of the house with great determination. Grimly angry, he called for his horse and made his way down the bridle path to Birdelwood Manor.

On the point of entering the house, Eleanor waited for him to dismount. “Royce, I’m delighted you’ve come for a visit.” She smiled, and with an artful toss of her glossy curls, she continued to babble while she led the way into the manor. “In fact, we haven’t been home all that long. You must excuse us. We’re all at sixes and sevens.” She shrugged one elegant shoulder. “Papa is back early as well.”

Royce gazed down at her and, for the first time, he began to wonder at her. He had overlooked her careless dismissal of Bethany, her beauty blinding him to her less than admirable qualities.

“Your family left Bethany here by herself?”

Eleanor laughed with a dismissive wave of her hand. “She is hardly a young girl. She is twenty years of age. Well past the age to need a chaperon.”

“Hardly.” He allowed his tone to chill. “A lady by birth has a reputation to guard, as you yourself mentioned not so long ago.”

She shrugged uncomfortably. “What could happen to her here?”

Royce viewed her with a scowl. “I can think of several things. However, your father is the one responsible for the conduct of the household.”

She gave him a tentative smile and swept one hand toward the drawing room. “I hope you have time for a nice, long visit.”

“I find it necessary to have a word with your father.”

“No time to greet Mummy, at least.”

“I’m afraid not. Please send a servant to inform his lordship that I insist on a few moments of his time.”

Her smile faded. “Since Hobs isn’t about, I’ll announce you. Papa is in the estate office, I think.” She turned to precede him down the hall. She rapped on the door and opened it at her father’s call to enter. “Papa, Lord Rivton is here to see you.” She stood with one hand on the knob and ushered Royce inside.

Arthur rose from behind a huge, cluttered desk with a smile on his suave features and his hand extended in greeting. “Welcome.”

Royce gave his hand a tentative shake, still holding his hat and gloves in the other hand.

“Eleanor, take his lordship’s things.” Eleanor reluctantly accepted the items and closed the door slowly behind her.

Arthur settled back into his chair. “Please take a seat.”

Royce sat on the edge of the chair and came straight to the point. “I’m here to inform you of my forthcoming marriage to your niece.”

Tension built while silence gripped the room. The shocked expression on Arthur’s face became a hard mask of annoyance. “What the devil do you mean?”

“I intend to marry Bethany at the village church. Tomorrow at four o’clock sharp.”

Arthur blasted up from his chair. “I’ll not have it. My sweet Eleanor, I could understand, but that stupid cow….”

Royce interrupted him, “You’re speaking of my future wife. Keep a civil tongue in your head.”

“I’ll not allow it,” Arthur snapped between clenched teeth. “I’ll see her in Bedlam first.”

Royce curled his lips in a chilling smile. He narrowed his eyes in his most intimidating manner while staring the man down. “You have nothing to say in the matter.”

Arthur’s face turned red and a vein stood out on his forehead when he shouted, “Because you are the high and mighty Lord Lieutenant of the county means nothing. Do you hear? Nothing.”

“My being the Lord Lieutenant is neither here nor there. I have a special license in my pocket.”

Arthur bellowed, “I don’t care if you have a toad in your pocket. You shan’t marry her.”

Royce stared at him for a long, intimidating moment. “I also have a letter of consent to the match from her guardian, Phillip Clarke.”

A stunned expression crossed Arthur’s face. He didn’t say a word while he stared back at Royce.

“Exactly so.” Royce nodded. He didn’t even try to keep the satisfaction from appearing in his eyes. “I see you understand. I expect you and your whole family to attend the ceremony. You had better present an approving face, or you’ll answer to me.” He paused. “You may not even so much as blink at her. That includes your family too. No words of censure shall be tolerated, and if you raise your hand to her, I’ll see you dead,” he promised and strode from the room with Arthur fuming behind him. The last glimpse Royce had of Arthur, his face mottled in rage, gave Royce pleasure. He smiled when he exited the house.

While evening approached, Royce escorted Bethany into the cool, private parlor off the main hallway where he was assured of privacy. Heavy hangings covered the windows, and chairs were scattered about the room. Earlier in the day Royce had requested a fire to chase the chill off the room. He arranged two chairs beside the fireplace and gestured to Bethany.

She sank into one of the chairs, clasped her hands in her lap, and swallowed. Her eyes were apprehensive, and she swallowed again.

He steadied his voice and made his expression as pleasing as possible. “Bethany, let me acknowledge that I was a little insensitive when I mentioned marriage.”

“You didn’t mention marriage. You informed me we would marry.”

He held up one hand, cleared his throat, and started once more. “My total disregard for your sensibilities is truly appalling, and as a gentleman, I am repelled by my own behavior. Needless to say, I never meant to overset you with my proposal. I understand that’s no excuse.” He stirred in his chair, determined on his course. “I’m not very well versed in offering marriage. Please forgive me.”