For Love Alone (46 page)

“It happened a long time ago, Tess. Why are you brooding on it now?”

“I don't know,” Tess answered truthfully. “I suppose it has to do with the fact that everyone says I look so much like her—even
I
can see the resemblance between myself and the portrait of her in the gallery. But it's not just the hair and eyes or even the shape of my face ... it's something inside of me—there are times I feel such affinity with her—almost as if I can feel every emotion she felt.” Her mouth set in grim lines. “And I know she hated my great-grandfather with every bone and fiber of her being! I just hope that she and Benedict had a long happy life together when they finally ran away.”

“Well, Gregory certainly had a
long
life after she deserted him—and I find it ironic that he outlived not only their son, Richard, but one of his grandsons as well—your father, Edward. Ninety is a vast age, but I doubt he enjoyed very many of those added years.”

“He may not have enjoyed them, but I suspect he was thoroughly enraged when he realized that he was dying.” Tess shook her head. “He was such a despotic presence, even though he's been dead for over two years now, that sometimes when I walk into the blue salon, I expect to find him sitting there glaring at me.”

Hester's soft mouth thinned. “I know it is unkind to speak poorly of the dead, but he was such a devil! He was most unkind to you, Tess, no doubt because of your resemblance to Theresa.”

“Clearly he hadn't the least feeling of affection for any of his family. You'd think he'd have left his own sister better provided for, and as for you ... well, I think he was still punishing you for not finding a wealthy husband, and that's why he made such a shabby provision for you in his will. He
wanted
you and Margaret to know that he didn't give a farthing about your future!”

Hester averted her face, and Tess could have bitten her tongue off. Hester had never said anything directly, but Tess knew that in the past there was someone her aunt had loved or was still in love with, and that her lack of fortune or his had something to do with Hester's unmarried state.

Tess was frantically seeking some way to change the topic when Hester began to speak. Her voice constricted, she got out, “Grandfather couldn't have known that Sidney would die so young. He knew Sidney would take care of Aunt Meg for the rest of her life. And as for me ...” She smiled painfully, “I never was a particular favorite of his anyway.”

“Are you defending him?” Tess demanded, outraged, her violet eyes nearly purple with anger. “You just said he was a devil! And as for
your
not being a particular favorite of his ...” Tess suddenly grinned. “Oh, but wasn't he furious that his only great-grandchild should turn out to be a mere girl?”

Hester smiled wryly. “Indeed he was. I can remember the day you were born—he took it as a personal affront that your poor father and mother had produced only a puny female. I can still recall his ranting and raving as he stormed through the manor. He was absolutely livid. Claimed your dear mother had done it on purpose, just to spite him. Swore he'd find a way to prevent your father from inheriting the title if the next child wasn't a boy!” Hester shook her head. “I wonder, when your father died just a few years later, if he didn't regret his hasty words.” She grimaced and added, “Probably not. He always seemed to believe that he could arrange things precisely as he wanted.”

Everything Hester said was true. Tess had grown up under the malevolent eye of her great-grandfather, and during his lifetime, not a day had gone by that she hadn't been reminded that she should have been a boy or that she looked like the wife who had deserted him and vanished with another man. It hadn't sat well with Gregory, either, that she was an heiress in her own right and her fortune was safely in the hands of her uncle, where he could not get his grasping hands on it.

Gregory might not have known Sidney would die so improvidently, Tess conceded grimly, but he certainly had known that by not setting aside a decent amount in his will for Margaret and Hester, he was condemning them to a miserable existence if something
did
happen to Sidney. She would concede that by the time he died Gregory didn't have a grand fortune to command any longer, but from what remained, he could have settled enough money on each of his female dependents to insure them an independence—even if only a frugal one.

Which brought Tess back to her dilemma. Her own fortune was secure, but Margaret and Hester were at the mercy of the new Baron Mandeville for the roof over their heads and the very food they ate. Tess would have gladly expended a portion of her own impressive fortune on her aunt and great-aunt, but both ladies were loath to take advantage of her sincere offer. Despite several long conversations, usually when Avery had done something especially upsetting, Tess couldn't seem to make them understand that allowing her to provide for them would be no different from allowing Avery to see to their care. But both ladies were horrified at the idea of Tess using her fortune to take care of them—they were Mandevilles! It was up to Avery to see to their care. In some convoluted manner that made absolutely no sense to Tess, they felt that it would be unfair to her, that they would be taking undue advantage of her, if they allowed her to settle a reasonable sum on them.

Tess sighed heavily. Unless or until events became absolutely unbearable at Mandeville Manor, neither of the two women dearest to her in the world was willing even to hear of using Tess's money for their own benefit. In the meantime, in spite of Avery's odious attentions, and the possible danger to herself should he decide to follow Gregory's methods of obtaining a fortune, it was unthinkable that she simply abandon Hester and Aunt Meg to the indifferent care of that smarmy toad Avery! Which meant, Tess admitted uneasily, she had to stay at Mandeville Manor and helplessly watch over Hester and Aunt Meg like a hen with two chicks confronted by a rapacious tomcat!

A few minutes later Hester broke the thick silence by asking curiously, “Why were you thinking about the old scandal? Gregory's abduction of Theresa and her later disappearance with Benedict Talmage occurred decades ago. What made you think of them now?”

Tess shrugged. “I guess I had been thinking about the way things have turned out—Sidney's death and how if Gregory hadn't acted so despicably, there wouldn't be such enmity between ourselves and the earls of Sherbourne. Of course Gregory still would have been a spendthrift and wasted most of the money. So the Mandevilles would still probably have ended up in need of
another
heiress with which to repair their fortunes.”

Hester shot her a look. “Are you certain that Avery hasn't been annoying you?”

“Oh, perhaps, a little.” She glanced slyly at her aunt. “If you and Auntie Meg would let me set you up in a tidy little house near Hythe, I wouldn't have to endure his company at all!”

Hester looked distressed. “He
has
been pestering you!” Leaning forward, she said earnestly, “You don't have to stay, darling. You know your uncles would be most happy if you went to London or to Lord Rockwell's estate in Cornwall to live. And though we would miss you like the very devil, Meg and I would do fine....” She took a deep breath and blurted out, “And if he decides to cast us out of the house or he becomes too obnoxious for us to bear, we will let you buy us that little house!”

“But not until then?”

“Oh, Tess! You are the sweetest child in nature, but you know that we cannot. It would not be right!”

Seeing the worry in her aunt's eyes, Tess put on a sunny expression and said lightly, “Well, I don't think I'd be happy in London, and as for Cornwall, I'd much rather be right here with you—even if it means putting up with Avery!”

The coach slowed and a moment later they were traveling down the elm-lined drive that led to Mandeville Manor. The manor itself appeared shortly, an elegant half-timbered house built in Elizabethan times. Dark green ivy pressed itself to the sides of the building and softened the outlines of the many dormers in the tiled roof; the lattice-worked windows gleamed in the fading sunlight. With a flourish the carriage swept around the shrub-lined circular drive, and the coachman brought the horses to a stop at the base of the broad steps that led to the massive double entrance doors.

The horses had barely been pulled to a stop before one of the carved oak doors was thrown open and a tall man in buff breeches and a form-fitting coat of bottle green came strolling down the stone steps to meet the ladies. The gentleman, Avery Mandeville, the sixth Baron Mandeville, was without a doubt an attractive male, possessed of a well-made body with broad shoulders and slim hips; and the fact that he had been a military man before inheriting the title was obvious in the way he carried himself, his back ramrod straight, his head high. He far more resembled his third cousin, Gregory, than had any of Gregory's immediate offspring, having inherited Gregory's notable thick blond hair and icy blue eyes as well as the handsomeness that ran in the family.

In fact, watching his approach, Tess thought that he could have been her great-grandfather at the same age. A shiver went through her. The knowledge that she bore a striking resemblance to Theresa and that Avery's features were uncannily those of Gregory's made her distinctly uneasy. While the situation was different, she couldn't help wondering, since fate seemed to have assembled a pair of copies of the original players in herself and Avery, if history wasn't going to repeat itself.

Deliberately she shook off her unpleasant musings. It couldn't happen again—she'd never marry Avery, no matter
what
he did! She was far more likely to take a dagger to him if he ever laid a hand on her. As for her being desperately in love with a descendant of the earl of Sherbourne, the whole idea was ludicrous! She'd never met Randal Talmage's youngest brother, the latest earl of Sherbourne, nor did she even know his name. Love an unknown stranger indeed!

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Copyright © 2000 by Shirlee Busbee

 

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ISBN: 978-1-4201-2326-5

eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-3273-1
eISBN-10: 1-4201-3273-3