Lord Ruthven's Bride (13 page)

Supper time arrived far too soon for Annabelle, and she sat with Lena and Josephine on a couch near the window as Nick and her father greeted Calum. After a moment, he excused himself and approached. He was, as always, impeccably dressed and very handsome. His eyes, however, expressed anxiety. .Had something else happened? One of the searchers not returned? Upon waking, she realized that the tale of how the future Marchioness of Northington had spent the night alone with the newly titled Viscount of Ruthven was sure to get out. No one would believe nothing happened. 

“My lord,” she said when he reached her. She extended her hand and he pressed her fingers to his mouth.

“You are looking well, my dear.”

“I am rested.”

“I am relieved to hear that.”

“Lady Grayson.” He bowed to Josephine, then to Lena. “Miss Summerfield.”

They murmured greetings and Annabelle didn’t miss the look they exchanged when he said, “Will you take some fresh air with me, Lady Annabelle?”

Every fiber of her being screamed that she should return to her room
.
Instead, she angled her head, and said, “Of course.”

She rose, and he placed her hand in the crook of his arm and began a stroll across the room. They stepped out onto the balcony and he led her to the bench at the far side of the balcony near the railing.

They sat and he looked at her. “It has been too long since we have spent time together.”

Annabelle nodded. “That is my fault.”

“Perhaps amongst the excitement you have been occupied with wedding plans?”

“There are so many details,” she said.

It wasn’t a lie. There were a myriad of details. But the lie was that she had not given the wedding even a passing thought since that night in Lord Harley’s study. The night she met Lord Ruthven.

“I wish I could help but, alas, wedding plans are a woman’s domain,” he said.

“My lord—”

“Why so formal, Annabelle? You usually call me Calum when we are alone.”

“Calum,” she corrected, and was thankful the nerves that jittered her stomach didn’t reach her voice, “I am concerned about the gossip that might arise after last night.”

“The only people who know is myself, your family and my men.”

“What about Nick’s men? We cannot be certain of their discretion.”

“I trust my men, and I am sure Grayson knows what he’s about.”

“Gossip has a life of its own,” she said.

“No one will dare gossip about you, Annabelle.”

“But they will,” she said. “They already do. We left Inverness to escape the gossip there. How far can we run? Society is no respecter of persons and position when it comes to gossip. But it isn’t myself I am concerned for. I could not bear it if others thought ill of you.”

Rare amusement shone in his voice when he said, “Wealth allows me to ignore Society.”

“Perhaps, for a while. But over time you will be ostracized.”

“Ostracized?” he repeated. “I think not.”

“Think over the past week. My father brought Lena and I here because he felt we needed time the gossip to abate. If it should become known that I spent time alone with a man…”

He studied her. “Should I be worried that the gossip is founded?”

The question startled her. He have given no indication of mistrusted last night. What had changed his mind? Irritation flared, then she realized the error in her thinking. He wasn’t accusing her. He had every right to ask.

“No,” she said. “Lord Ruthven was a perfect gentleman.”

“A perfect gentleman does not look at a woman the way he looks at you.”

Annabelle started. “I beg your pardon?”

“I thought I had to be mistaken that night he saved you from Harley. The situation was unusual, and any man would be concerned. Then I saw him look at you the same way at The Three Sisters.”

“Look at me in what way?” she said. “You cannot think there is anything improper between us. Why, even Nick was present. He would not have allowed any impropriety.”

Calum gave a slow nod. “Yes, it was all proper. But his eyes follow your every move. Even last night, when you left, he looked like a man approaching the gallows.”

Annabelle stared. “You are mistaken.” Her heart pounded. “As you say, it was a trying time. Last night, he was deeply concerned about the storm and getting me home safely. I cannot see that any of that is out of the way.”

“You aren’t a man. You cannot understand.”

She stiffened. “You are right. I do not understand.”

“He cares for you, Annabelle.”

The air left her lungs. “I am sure you are wrong. He gave no such indication to me.” Quite the contrary. He’d made it perfectly clear she was a nuisance.

“He wouldn’t,” Calum said. “I believe you are right. He is a gentleman, and he wouldn’t take advantage of a lady. I must admit, he is a good fellow.” Calum laid a hand on hers. “I cannot blame him for caring for you. You are an amazing woman.”

She couldn’t think. “You have never before spoken like this. I-I do not know what to say.”

“You don’t know that I love you? Why else would I have asked you to marry me?”

“I knew you cared for me, just as I care for you. I am fortunate you offered for me. But this…” She was at a loss.

“This is more than you bargained for?” he asked.

“It is more than I deserve.”

“Not so.”

She grasped the hand that covered hers. “I will never be any different than I am now.”

He laughed. “That is more than most men could possibly hope for.”

Annabelle released him. “You do not understand. We have been engaged but three months. This is only the beginning of my foolish actions.” Though, she had to admit she’d outdone herself this last week.

He released a sigh. “Annabelle, I can live with another man caring for you. It is inevitable.”

“Calum—”

He shook his head. “It is the way you look at him that concerns me.”

Annabelle gave a small gasp.

“Tell me I am wrong and I will never speak of it again,” he said.

“I-I am to be your wife. I have not been unfaithful.” Was that the truth? Was wanting another man as much of a betrayal as if she had let him touch her?

“I know,” he replied. “You are an honorable woman. Do you love me?”

“I care for you. In truth, we barely know one another.”

But that wasn’t what she’d been telling herself the last six months. They’d known one another for three months when he offered for her. The last three months as his betrothed had been wonderful. Had his title, more than him, excited her? No, she realized with relief. She wasn’t a fortune hunter. He was everything a woman could want—including kind. What woman wouldn’t have considered herself lucky to be his wife?

A woman who was in love with another man.

“I had hoped your feelings were a little more than just caring,” he said.

“Caring is more than most people in our position get,” she said.

“True. But, as much as I loathe to admit it, I am a romantic at heart. I would like more.”

And why not? He deserved more.

He squeezed her hand. “Do not trouble yourself, my dear. I shall speak to your father.”

“My father?” Then she understood his meaning. “Oh, Calum, you cannot.”

“What is the alternative? Shall I sentence you to a life married to me?”

“You make it sound like a prison.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked.

He released her hand and stood. “Shall we return to the parlor?”

Annabelle wanted to shake her head no. How could she possibly face her father? Could she talk Calum out of ending the contract? No. She read in his eyes the truth: He knew she loved Lord Ruthven.

“I am a terrible liar,”
Lord Ruthven had said. Apparently, she was as bad a liar as he.

“Calum, you do not have to do this. Especially not after you—” She broke off and he waiting patiently. “My mother told me that you arranged for Lena and I not to have to testify at Lord Harley’s trial.”

“Ah, she told you, did she?” He smiled. “Think nothing of it, my dear. You have been through enough. There is no need to subject you and your cousin to more hardship.”

“You are too good to me,” she said. “I do not deserve it.”

“On the contrary.” He pulled her to her feet, then brushed her cheek with a finger. “You are a beautiful woman, Annabelle. Do not let my sacrifice be in vain.”

“What do you mean?”

He urged her into a walk. “Let him fall in love with you.”

“You are certain?” Montagu asked.

James leaned forward in the chair opposite the marquess’ desk. “Mr. Benning’s information is without question. Lady Copeland participated in Lord Harley’s murder of the prostitutes. Given this information, I wager that if she did no’ have a hand in killing the other four ladies, she at least knew he killed them.”

“I will speak with the magistrate—”

“That will do no good,” James cut him off. “Ye must understand, the information Mr. Benning has uncovered will not convict her.”

“You say you have her journal,” Montagu said. “That must be damning evidence.”

“I have yet to read the journal, but Benning assures me it indicates she was involved, but she does no’ confess outright. What worries me is Lady Annabelle. According to Benning, Lady Copeland is angry about the part your daughter played in putting Harley in prison. Also, while he didn’t mention it, I wager she does no’ want anyone to know that she was fraternizing with the earl. You may recall that Lady Annabelle caught them together.”

“You caught them together, as well,” Montagu said. “Not to mention, it was your investigation that put Harley in prison.”

“Aye, and Benning did say she mentioned me. However, I can deal with her. Lady Annabelle, on the other hand, would be at her mercy. You must keep her at home until I find evidence that convicts Lady Copeland.”

“How will you do that?”

“It will no’ be easy and it may take time. But you must understand that a woman who can inflict pain upon other women as she and Harley did lack normal female sensibilities. She is as cold blooded a killer as Harley.”

“I will speak to the magistrate here in Tain.”

“My lord—”

“I understand your feelings,” the marquess cut him off. “I cannot make accusations against Blair and I will not impede your investigation. I knew Malcom’s father, and trust that I can speak with him in confidence. In fact, I will introduce you to him.”

In truth, James welcomed the help of any magistrate. Lives might have been saved if the magistrate in Inverness had listened to him.

“Thank you,” he said.

“The safest course of action is for me to send Annabelle away,” the marquess said. “France perhaps. You cannot be certain how long or if you will be able to find evidence that will convict Blair. An English—or Scottish—court will not readily convict a noblewoman of murder.”

“I promise, I will no’ rest until she is convicted,” James said.

Montagu gave him a penetrating look. “You are devoted to seeing Lady Copeland convicted.”

“She is a ruthless killer.”

The marquess nodded. “For a moment I thought perhaps your interest lay in protecting Annabelle.”

“If ye had seen the prostitute’s bodies, you would understand my drive to protect her,” James said. “I will not allow Lady Annabelle—or any woman--to die such a gruesome death.”

“I think perhaps you will not allow Annabelle to die at all—save perhaps from old age—and even then you might challenge the grim reaper.”

A chill swept through James. “I am not certain I understand.”

“I think you do. But never mind. I will make plans to send Annabelle to France. Lena will accompany her.”

James canted his head. “Please assure her and Lord Northington that I will do all I can to resolve this as soon as possible.”

“Northington? I think not.”

James frowned. “I imagine a man would want to know if his fiancée is in danger.”

“A fiancé, yes. Only Northington is no longer Annabelle’s fiancé.”

“What?” James blurted.

“He ended the engagement.”

Blood pounded through James’ ears. “That is no’ possible. What man would let her go?”

“What man, indeed?” Montagu murmured.

James’s mind reeled. He stood. “Forgive me. Ye caught me off guard.”

“So I see.”

“I am at your disposal when ye are ready to speak with the magistrate.”

Montagu nodded. “I will arrange a meeting. Thank you for telling me about this. I can scarce believe it, but if the last week has taught me anything, it’s that people aren’t always what they seem.”

James nodded, his mind still reeling. 

Lady Annabelle was not to marry.

* * *

Annabelle said goodbye to Mrs. MacBain, then left, and strolled down the lane toward the small inn where she was to meet Lena and Josephine. The doctor had administered to Ally and her cough had improved. Repairs had begun on their cottage, with the worst of the leaks already patched. Annabelle released a breath and realized her ankle ached from so much exertion. But she was glad for the distraction. She should have felt relief over Calum’s absence, but in the two days since his departure, her mind refused to rest.

He was right to end the engagement. She wondered when the sadness and guilt over not loving him would dissipate. When he offered for her, she believed she loved him and that he loved her. But she hadn’t had a true understanding of what love meant. Until she met Lord Ruthven.

Calum was too good for her.

As for Lord Ruthven… Calum said he cared for her. Was it possible that Lord Ruthven saw her as more than just a troublesome hoyden?

“Let him fall in love with you,”
Calum had said.

Butterflies flitted across the insides of her stomach. How did a woman go about letting a man fall in love with her? Did she seduce him? Lord Ruthven was such a stickler for propriety. Would that change with the dissolution of her engagement?  No, she thought with frustration. He would consider any impropriety a betrayal toward her family. He’d promised to be her friend. She would make him keep that promise. Then she would find a way to make him fall in love with her.

Annabelle reached the inn. Nicholas had reserved a small private room to assure their comfort until he came for them. She was the first to arrive. Lena and Josephine wouldn’t lag far behind. They had promised Nick they would meet at the inn at least an hour before dark. Annabelle had been relieved when her parents accepted her promise that she wouldn’t do anything as foolish as walking back to Aeckland Castle.

A maid brought tea and Annabelle was glad for the warm beverage. The snow had melted, but bits of ice clung to the trees and a chill hung in the air. A low fire burned in the hearth, but she chose a seat at the table near the window. She poured a cup of tea, stirred in sugar, then gazed outside. She hoped to see Lord Ruthven in the village today, but no such luck. When she wanted to avoid him, he always seemed close by. Once he learned she was not to marry, would he keep his distance? What if Calum was wrong, what if he didn’t care for her? Now—The door opened and Annabelle looked up, expecting Lena or Josephine. Lady Blair Copeland stood in the doorway.

“Lady Annabelle.” She frowned and glanced down the hallway. “I must have the wrong room.”

Annabelle rose. “Lady Copeland, I didn’t know you were in Tain.”

“I arrived only today. I am meeting a friend. The maid directed me to this room. Forgive me for intruding.”

“You’re not intruding,” Annabelle said. “I am waiting for Lena and Josephine. If your friend hasn’t arrived, you are welcome to wait here until she does.” Or was it a man she waited for? Unease coiled with the memory of her last meeting with Lady Copeland.

Lady Copeland hesitated and Annabelle wondered if she, too, remembered that night in Lord Harley’s study. She couldn’t be glad to learn of his murders. And she wouldn’t want to be reminded of her folly. By now she must know that Annabelle wouldn’t tell anyone about her assignation with Lord Harley. Thankfully, Annabelle’s snooping in his study hadn’t found its way into the gossip sheets.

Lady Copeland’s expression cleared and she said, “That is very kind of you.” She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

“I will ask for another tea cup.” Annabelle started toward the bell pull.

“Do not bother,” Lady Copeland said. “My friend will arrive soon, I’m sure.”

“At least take off your cloak,” Annabelle said.

“There is a chill in the air, don’t you think?” Lady Copeland said.

“There is,” Annabelle agreed, and motioned to the chairs near the hearth. They sat, and she said. “What brings you to Tain?”

“Why, you, of course.”

“Me?” 

“You didn’t think I would forget that you are responsible for Monroe being in prison?”

“Lord Harley?” Annabelle said. “He is in prison because he is a murderer.”

“He wouldn’t be in prison if you hadn’t interfered.”

Annabelle froze when Lady Copeland withdrew a knife from the folds of her cloak.   

* * *

A knock sounded as James neared the door of Lord Montagu’s study.

The butler entered. “Forgive me, sir, there is a Mr. Benning here. He insists on seeing Lord Ruthven.”

“Show him in,” Montagu said, but Benning, as usual, hadn’t waited for an invitation. He stood behind the butler.

He brushed past the man. The butler frowned, but Benning ignored him and said, “I am sorry to intrude, Lord Montagu, but I must speak with his lordship right away.” He looked at James. “They told me at Stowe Castle that ye were here.  Lady Copeland has arrived in Tain.”

James turned to the marquess, who circled his desk. “Where is your daughter, Lord Montagu?”

“She is on the east side of Tain, assisting your tenants.”

“Ye allowed her to go there after what she did two days ago?”

“She is with Grayson, her sister and cousin.”

“Forgive me for saying so, my lord, but she has ye wrapped around her finger.”

Montagu laughed. “I pray I live long enough to see you have daughters.”

James had no intention of allowing his daughters to run wild. But he would argue that point later. “We must find Lady Annabelle and the other ladies.”

“They may be on their way home,” Montagu said.

James looked sharply at him. “I pray they do no’ intend to walk.”

Montagu lifted a brow. “Nicholas will escort them home.”

“Come, Mr. Benning.” James started toward the door.

“I am coming with you,” the marquess said.

James glanced at Benning, who shrugged.

Twenty minutes later, they reached the outskirts of town. They went first to Mrs. MacBain’s home. Annabelle had left half an hour ago.

Mrs. MacBain wrung her hands. “I swear, my lord, Lady Annabelle promised me she would no’ walk home again.”

“But ye have no idea where she went?” James demanded.

“She said she was going to the inn.”

“Thank ye, Mrs. MacBain.” He started to turn from her door, then stopped and turned back. “How is young Ally?”

“Better. The doctor saw her again this morning. Ye need no’ trouble him again.”

“He will come again to be certain she is truly well. Do no’ fear, Mrs. MacBain, ye are not wrong for asking for help for your family. Do you understand?”

Her eyes widened.

“I do no’ want your children sick again,” he said.

She bobbed her head. “If ye say so, my lord.”

“I do.” He strode to his horse and vaulted into the saddle.

When he found Lady Annabelle, he planned to have a very long talk with her.