Daughter of Darkness (3 page)

‘In gold,’ Edwina murmured. ‘I do not trust paper.’

His mouth tightened. ‘I’ll instruct my banker to place both that amount and the deeds to Coringal at your disposal.’

Satisfied, Edwina nodded her head. Willow had told her the Irish estate was unproductive for farming, but that remained to be seen. Given a good manager and the modern farming methods Gerard had constantly talked about, anything was possible.

Having finished the distasteful business to her satisfaction, she gave Willow an exasperated look and turned to Daphne de Vere herself. ‘I hear you have a child, madam.’

Willow caught her breath when love softened Daphne’s eyes.

‘I have a dear little boy who is nearing his third birthday. His name is Edward George.’

‘You name him after his father then?’

There was a merest hesitation, then Daphne said smoothly. ‘And after the King, who was the main sponsor at his christening.’

The King!
Edwina gave Daphne a speculative look. The young Marchioness moved in high circles these days.

‘I would love to see him.’ Willow gazed appealingly at Lady Edwina.

‘It will not be possible. We’re leaving for Dorset within the week and have no time to entertain.’

‘Then you must call on me. I’d be most grateful for your company. Tomorrow at three?’

Mindful that Daphne de Vere was a Marchioness in her own right, and outranked her, Edwina’s acceptance was graceful. ‘Naturally, we would be delighted.’

Willow’s smiled bathed her in friendliness. ‘Does little Edward resemble you or his father?’

‘Neither. He has brown eyes and a head-full of dark curls. He is straight of limb and tall for his age. He’s a handsome lad and some say he favors the Lytton connection, in that he has my father’s looks.’

‘Lytton connection?’ She gazed at Daphne in complete surprise. ‘In what way are you related to the Lytton family, Lady Daphne?’

‘My late father was second cousin to Earl Lytton. Our families have always been neighbours and friends and I hope that will continue. I’d like to think my son has neighbours he can respect and trust when he inherits Sheronwood.’ She flicked a faintly damning glance at the marquis, smiling without mirth when he cleared his throat. For a moment her brown eyes conveyed malice.

Edwina warmed to the young Marchioness as they took leave of each other. Daphne de Vere had more spirit than she’ d first thought. She was unhappy, yet had wit enough to insult her husband in public. She’d probably pay for it, the French fop had a vicious look to him.

Had Daphne known her son would be punished for her remarks with a beating she would not have been so forward.

Later, locked in her room, she could hear her son’s screams become sobs, then the sobs become whimpers. When she finally got him back and tended the bruises on his trembling body with witch hazel, rage filled her heart.

Tenderly, she took her son in her arms and cradled him against her heart. Right then and there she resolved that Eduard Lynchcross would never hurt her son again. Her health had been below par of late. It would give her an excuse to take Edward to Sheronwood Estate to visit his grandmother. She would not return to live with Eduard. Placing a kiss on her son’s bruised cheek she whispered in his ear. ‘I will kill him if he does this to you again.’

‘All of London is talking about Sapphire.’ Daphne said the next day as she offered Lady Edwina another sweetmeat. ‘The woman is a mystery. Some say she’s of French birth, others that she was lately an inhabitant of a town called New Orleans in the America’s. It’s said she has a knack of seeing into the past as well as the future.’

‘You would not catch me parting with money to know what’s gone before,’ Edwina scorned. ‘I’m already in possession of that knowledge.’

‘Rumor says her face is so hideous she wears a veil to cover it. Sapphire promised to cure Isobelle Penforth of her barrenness. She gave Isobelle a potion to secretly slip into her husband’s drink, and has promised her a child within a year.’

‘
Bah!’
Edwina said fiercely. ‘Her husband can barely mount a horse let alone father a child. He has one foot in the grave. An aphrodisiac will send the other one over the edge. He is too old for such excitement.’

Though she gave a little laugh, Willow blushed. The fact that she’d been married for several years and was still intact was cause of concern to her. Something in her feared her husband’s return and the act that would make her his wife, another part of her longed for a child like Edward to love. She laid her cheek against his silky hair and breathed in the scent of his skin.

‘You’re lucky to have such a handsome son.’

Daphne gave Willow a sympathetic smile. Her state of virginity and her absent husband was common talk in London circles. Certain sections of society were betting over who would overcome Lady Edwina’s tight control of her, and seduce her.

‘Have you heard from Gerard recently?’ she enquired of Lady Edwina.

‘I received word only yesterday. He intends to return before Christmas.’

Willow’s heart gave a nervous jump. Why hadn’t she been told? She wished her grandmother would begin to treat her like an adult. Her finger traced a blue mark on Edward’s hand. Idly, she pushed back a section of his sleeve and gazed in horror. ‘You poor darling,’ she gasped. ‘You have hurt yourself.’

Edward’s lower lip began to tremble. ‘Papa beat me with his cane.’

‘Oh, my poor love.’ Falling to her knees Daphne gathered up her son and hugged him tight. Tears stung her eyes as she gazed from one to the other.’ I beg you to help me. Eduard is insane, and will kill my boy one day. He’s jealous that the marquis favors Edward as his heir. Allow us to travel to Dorset with you.’

Edward began to sob in sympathy with his mother.

All was pandemonium until Edwina took charge in her own indomitable manner. The child was pacified with a sweetmeat, then a maid summoned to clear away the tea things. When they were alone again, she called for Edward’s nurse to take him to the nursery to play. She chose to forget that Daphne de Vere had spurned her dear grandson in favor of the child’s father, and therefore deserved all she got. That was water under the bridge. Besides, she’d grown to love the vivacious Willow in a way she’d never thought possible over the past four years.

‘Now, my dear,’ she said kindly to Daphne. ‘You’ll tell me all about it and we’ll see what can be done to help.’

‘Will this journey never end?’

Lady Edwina had been querulous for the past half hour. No wonder, Willow thought, sighing as their two hired coaches stuck fast in the mud once again. What should have been a two-day journey had stretched into three when a summer storm had flooded the Piddle River just outside of Dorchester. They’d found overnight lodging at a wayside Inn.

‘I swear the bed was crawling with lice,’ Edwina scratched her neck and sighed, ‘and you tossed and turned all night. I didn’t get a wink of sleep.’

Nonsense!
Willow grinned as she took a deep breath of the country air. The bed had been wonderfully clean and Lady Edwina’s snores had practically raise the thatch from the roof.

She bestowed a smile on Edward, pleased that the excitement of having soldiers as an escort had taken his mind from his mother. Daphne had begged to be allowed to accompany her son to visit her grandmother at Sheronwood Estate. Her husband had agreed the child must go but had spitefully refused Daphne leave to accompany him.

‘It will not be for much longer.’ Gazing out of the coach window she smiled as she beckoned to Hugh Macbride. ‘We will take some exercise whilst the men free the coaches.’

‘And ruin our complexions?’ Lady Edwina grumbled, allowing Hugh Macbride to assist her from the coach to a grassy raised strip. She put out a hand to help Willow herself, bestowing a scowl on the man. ‘You may help the child and his nurse.’

‘My pleasure, ma’am.’ The nurse was a young widow, and handsome enough to turn a few heads. Taking her by the waist, Hugh Macbride lifted her across the gap, his hands still lingering about her waist after he’d set her on her feet.

The smile the nurse offered to the soldier was intercepted by Lady Edwina, who frowned. ‘Get about your business, sir. You are here as escort and you neglect your duties.’

‘Beware of the soldier, Willow,’ she grumbled as he strode away. ‘He is too handsome for his own good, and conquest comes easily to him.’

‘Are all men so free with their affections?’ She laid her cheek against the old lady’s arm as they promenaded on the sun-dappled grass. ‘I wish I’d been born a man. It would be nice to follow my heart and live a life without restriction.’

‘Who says a man has no restrictions?’ Edwina smiled at her naivete. ‘It’s a man’s duty to care and provide for his family. As for following his heart—?’

‘Gerard Lytton would now be married to Daphne de Vere and master of Sheronwood,’ Willow interjected bitterly. ‘Please do not remind me again, Grandmother. It’s hateful to know one’s husband loves another, even if that husband has cause to despise his wife. There is no pride in knowing I’m unworthy of his attention.’ Tears pricked her eyes. ‘Now I’m to meet his family. They will despise me also.’

‘I have never heard such taradiddle in all my life!’ Edwina’s severe expression softened as a fleeting memory of herself at that age flashed into her mind. ‘The earl and countess will welcome you as a daughter. As for Gerard?’ Stopping, she gazed into Willow’s upturned face. ‘You have it in you to make him forget Daphne de Vere ever existed. Gerard is the type of man who enjoys a challenge. By nature you are not submissive, Willow. No doubt you and he will argue. If you are clever you can win him round to your point of view.’

‘And how do I go about that, Grandmother? My intellect cannot be equal to his.’ Anxiously she gazed into Lady Edwina’s eyes. ‘I can read and write, and have learned about the wonders of distant lands, but I’ve not had his education.’

‘Your woman’s instinct will show you the way.’ Edwina kissed her cheek. She didn’t have the heart to tell her intellect wouldn’t come into it, only physical attraction. Educated women were frowned upon, and Willow had more education than most, thanks to her tutor’s liberated ideas.

‘Look, our coach is freed,’ she said happily. ‘Now we can make speed whilst the soldiers dig the baggage coach from the mire. Sheronwood Estate is only a short distance. We can refresh ourselves there before continuing on to Lytton House.’

But Sheronwood was barred from them. Hugh Macbride cantered back towards the coach with a worried look on his face. ‘Some of the servants are suffering from smallpox,’ he said. ‘Lady Rosamond requests you extend hospitality to her great-grandson at Lytton House until she’s certain the infection is contained.’

Edwina’s lips pursed as she hastily withdrew her head. ‘Drive on coachman,’ she cried out. ‘We must reach Lytton House before night falls and the highwaymen seek us out.’

Hardly likely, Willow thought. Not with an officer and two soldiers in attendance. Nevertheless her heart beat a little faster, when two hours later the procession came to a halt.

It was that time of evening when the sun sent long fingers of gold searching through the trees, and dusk pressed warm and purple against their backs. The air was whirling with all manner of flying insects and the breeze was a dying breath of sound.

On either side of them branches reached out from the dense forest. There was a waiting and watching quality about the forest, as if it had taken a deep breath, then paused to survey the newcomers to its midst. Willow closed her eyes to its embrace, smiling as she breathed in its earthy aroma. It calmed her senses, cleansing from her nostrils the stale smell of the city she’d left behind. She thought she could hear the forest’s heart pulsing. In its depths, the rustles and squeaks of the creatures sheltering in its secret ways. Whatever the future held for her, this forest would nurture her soul, she thought. She would never be alone whilst she lived in its shadow. Her eyes held the knowledge when she opened them, and she felt strangely contented

‘Why have we stopped?’ Lady Edwina demanded as Hugh Macbride reined in his horse beside them and laid his pistol across the saddle.

‘A rider approaches.’

The hoof-beats were coming thick and fast through the undergrowth. Willow grinned at her flight of fancy. The forest’s pulsing heart was a horseman.

‘The rider makes no effort to conceal himself,’ Willow observed, as the soldiers gathered about them with pistols drawn. ‘He intends us no harm.’

‘Hullo, the coach,’ the rider shouted, bursting from a forest track. ‘Jeffrey Lytton greets you.’ Dust swirled when he brought his horse to a showy sliding halt. Whipping his tricorn from his head he leaped to the ground and bowed before them.

The soldiers grinned and moved their startled mounts aside.

No more than a youth of about fifteen, Jeffrey’s smile was as wide as it could get without splitting his face in half. His eyes twinkled with merriment as he poked his head over the coach door. ‘Welcome Grandmother. I have come to escort you in.’

‘Then God help us,’ Edwina snorted, ‘for you make enough noise to alert every highwayman this side of London.’

Willow’s dowry had been sent ahead by messenger just before they’d left London. Convinced it was all a trick and the marquis had planted an army of felons along the highway to steal it back, Edwina had been overly concerned for their safety. She forgot her worries when she surveyed her youngest grandson. ‘How tall you’ve grown. You’re the very image of Ambrose. You may give me a kiss before I introduce you to your sister-in-law.’

Willow could hardly remember her husband’s face. Jeffrey Lytton reminded her of it when he gazed through his pewter grey eyes at her and smiled. After he pressed his lips to the hand she offered he bashfully avoided her gaze and mumbled. ‘Welcome, sister.’

‘Thank you,Jeffrey. Lady Edwina has mentioned you so often I feel I already know you.’

Jeffrey’s glance settled on Edward, who was gazing at the snorting horse through shining eyes. ‘Who are you, young sir?’

‘Edward George de Vere.’ Edward smiled enthusiastically at him. ‘May I ride on the back of your horse?’