Midnight at Mallyncourt (10 page)

Jeffers appeared to announce dinner. Edward escorted me into the dining room. Crystal and silver sparkled on the long, polished table. Vivid blue and violet flowers formed a centerpiece. Candles shed a bright golden light. The meal seemed endless. Lyman sulked, ignoring everyone. Edward was silent, and I was still too unsure of myself to return Vanessa's bitchy remarks in kind. Lyman never looked at me, not once, and I kept wondering what he was thinking. Did he believe I had been deliberately eavesdropping? It shouldn't have bothered me, but it did. I was vastly relieved when the meal was over.

Lyman stormed out of the room without a word. Edward remarked that he wanted to go over the estate accounts and would join me upstairs in an hour or so. Smiling prettily, Vanessa took my arm in hers, patted it, and said that I simply must join her in her private sitting room where we could have a nice, cousinly chat together. Reluctantly, I went with her, praying I would be able to restrain my animosity.

It was a pretty room, much smaller than any of the others I had been in, all done in gold and white, intimate, elegant, especially redecorated for her, Vanessa explained. A fire burned cozily in the white marble fireplace. The ivory white walls had panels of gold leaf designs, and crystal pendants dangled from the ivory wall sconces. Vanessa stepped over to the window, lifted back the long white silk drape and peered out at the night. In the gorgeous, seductive blue velvet gown, her rich ebony waves so artfully arranged, she made a breathtakingly lovely picture. I granted that. In an earlier age she would have captivated kings, driven poets to suicide, caused revolutions in the Balkans.

“Well,” she said, turning, “here we are.”

“Here we are,” I agreed.

“You really
are
a strikingly attractive creature, Jenny. I'm quite sick with jealousy.”

“You have nothing to fear.”

“Oh,
any
one can be merely beautiful, but you're different—you have a certain arresting quality. I've always felt that's more important than
beauty
. I can see why Edward fancied you.”

“Can you?”

“It was really quite clever of you, getting him to marry you so quickly. Dozens of others have tried and failed. I really never thought Edward was the marrying kind, although he's had some very interesting arrangements over the years.”

“Oh?”

“Lush, frivolous creatures, actresses and such. I believe he has a cozy little house in London he reserves for them. None of them ever dwelled there for long, though. He's easily bored, quite merciless when he tires of a woman. Of course,
you
have nothing to worry about, pet. He
mar
ried you.”

“Indeed he did,” I said, smiling. “I've always felt a man should be experienced when he takes a bride.”

“Oh, yes,” she agreed. “That's
very
important.”

Neither of us bothered to sit. We stood facing each other like two sleek tigresses, sizing each other up, claws momentarily sheathed. The air between us seemed to crackle with animosity, yet both of us were smiling, both polite.

“You know
why
he married you, of course?” she said.

“I believe I do, Mrs. Robb.”

“Oh, you must call me Van
essa
. No, you're not a naive, gullible little fool smitten with love. I can see that. Edward must have told you everything.”

I acknowledged this with a cool nod.

“And yet you married him just the same, knowing full well he didn't love you, was merely using you. I appreciate that. It's something I would have done myself. After all, you have every reason to believe that Edward will soon be fabulously wealthy.”

“I have every reason to believe that,” I said.

Vanessa smiled, examining her diamond bracelet again. When she looked back up at me, her eyes sparkled with malicious amusement.

“He's not going to be, you know. Edward isn't going to inherit. Lyman is. No doubt your husband thought you might be able to win the old man over, influence him. Any such effort on your part would be wasted, I assure you. Dear Uncle James has no illusions about me, true, he knows me for what I am, and it amuses him. I've had him eating out of my hand for years now.”

“Indeed?”

“My affairs delight him. He admires my spirit, my boldness. And, too, there's Lettice. He adores her. Marrying you was an act of last minute desperation on Edward's part. The will shall be made in Lyman's favor.”

“You're very sure of yourself, aren't you?”

“
Very
sure, pet. I've been working on the old man for years, waiting. I've no intentions of letting it slip out of my hands now. Well, then, I just wanted to make sure we under
stand
each other, Jenny.”

“I think we understand each other perfectly.”

“Marvelous. Now we can re
lax
. You must tell me all about Edward. Is he superb in bed? He's such a cold, formidable creature, so aloof—I've often wondered how he'd be as a lover. Quite exciting, I imagine. Do sit down, Jenny dear. Shall I ring for tea? It's going to be so nice to have someone to chat with. We must
plan
things, pet. I think we should give a ball in your honor—”

“No tea, thank you. I think I'll go on up to my room.”

“Yes, of course, you must be exhausted. It's been a trying day. Well, luv, we'll get together later. I'm serious about that ball. It's been a long time since we've had any festivity at Mallyncourt, and I'm sure Uncle James will agree to it just to please me, even though he won't be able to come down himself—”

I smiled politely. “Good night, Vanessa.”

“'Night, luv,” she said sweetly. “I'm so
glad
you're here.”

I took my leave of her, making my way slowly toward the back of the house. Many of the candles had been extinguished, and the hallways were dim. I passed a footman. He nodded, moving on toward the drawing room with his candle snuffer. Reaching the wide back hall, I paused, not quite ready to go back up to my room. I was tense and over-stimulated, and I knew it would be impossible to sleep for some time. The hall was icy, filled with the smells of damp stone and dust and ancient, fraying cloth. The tapestries covering the walls billowed gently with a soft, flapping noise. Candles threw long shadows across the bare stone floor. I decided to go outside for a while. An evening stroll might relax me.

Finding a door near the west end of the hall, I stepped out onto the veranda. Paved with flagstones, it extended the length of the house in back with swirled brown stone pillars supporting the low roof. Across the stone balustrade I could see the immense back lawn, gilded with moonlight. Dark leaves rustled. A bird warbled sleepily in one of the trees. Leaving the veranda, I strolled across the grass, my satin skirt billowing against my legs. The sky was an ashy gray, and moonlight spilled over the dark clouds building up around the moon. It was a world of black, brown, silver, gray, with only the faintest suggestion of green. Nearing the line of shrubbery at the foot of the lawn, I turned and looked back at the house. Mallyncourt was a towering brown-black mass, shrouded in shadows, with hazy orange-gold squares where candles burned in windows.

Life-sized marble statues stood at various points along the shrubbery, mellowed with age, more gray than white, sad sentinels with broken bodies and sightless eyes. Finding a white marble bench, I sat down, oblivious to the damp and the icy chill that caressed my bare arms and shoulders. I wondered if Edward was still in the muniments room, going over the estate books and domestic accounts, and I wondered if he was pleased with the way I had handled myself at dinner. I hoped so. For purely professional reasons, I told myself. I had been hired to perform a role, and I intended to perform as skillfully as I was able to. Personal feelings had nothing to do with it. Edward Baker was my employer, as he had so sternly pointed out, and I owed it to him to do my best, no matter how I might loathe him as an individual.

I could hear water dancing in the wild, overgrown gardens in back of the lawn, beyond the line of shrubs. There were fountains there, I knew, and lily ponds and a hidden grotto. Water made splashing night music, and a frog croaked. It was growing late. I really should go back inside. Rising, I began to stroll slowly back toward the veranda, thinking about Vanessa now. I wondered how long we would be able to keep up that formal, strained politeness, how long the hostility could be kept contained behind a pretense of civility. Each of us knew exactly where the other stood, yet neither of us wanted to declare open warfare. When that happend, I would be ready. Four years in the theater, with its infighting and jealousies and daily bitchery had more than prepared me to hold my own.

Lost in thought, I stepped into the nest of shifting black shadows that filled the veranda. My skirts rustled stiffly. My heels tapped noisily on the flagstones. I stopped, abruptly. My blood seemed to run cold. Someone was here. Someone was watching me. I could feel hostile eyes, sense a presence. Very little moonlight spilled over the balustrade. The veranda was dark, layer upon layer of shadows spilling down like a misty black fog. I peered down the length of it, my hand to my heart, trying to still the rapid palpitations. I thought I saw a darker black form leaning against the wall a few yards ahead, the outline barely visible, black on black. As I watched, the form moved. A loud scratching noise broke the silence. A match blossomed into sizzling yellow-orange flame, and the burning blossom moved, rising, touched the tip of a slender black cigar. Briefly, before the light vanished, I saw Lyman's face. Heavy lids concealed his eyes as he concentrated on the cigar. I caught my breath, relieved and irritated at the same time as I approached him.

“You—you might have let me known you were there!” I said crossly.

“Did I frighten you?” he asked in a bored voice.

“I thought—I don't know what I thought! I didn't expect anyone to be there—”

“No need to be frightened, Mrs. Baker. Contrary to what your husband may have told you, I don't leap out of the darkness to strangle lone women whenever the moon is full.”

“He said no such thing. Don't be absurd.”

“I dare say he painted me black, though.”

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, ignoring his comment.

“Half an hour or so.”

“Then you were there when—”

“When you came out. Yes. I was rather surprised to see you. I thought perhaps my wife had eaten you alive. You've going to be something of a trial to Vanessa, I'm afraid. She's not accustomed to competition.”

“I have no intentions of competing with her.”

“Your mere presence will be a challenge to her,” he continued. “She'll feel threatened, outdo herself in order to compensate. No, Vanessa's not going to be easy to live with, I fear. Not that she ever was.”

“I—this evening, before dinner—”

“Yes?”

“I wasn't eavesdropping. I was already sitting in the recess when you came into the gallery. I didn't know what to—”

“Forget it,” he said.

“I wouldn't want you to think—” For some reason I didn't seem to be able to finish a sentence.

“What could it possibly matter to you what I think, Mrs. Baker?”

“It doesn't!” I snapped.

“Vanessa and I have no secrets from the world. Dveryone knows about us. Feel free to eavesdrop anytime you like.”

I bit back the scathing retort that sprang to mind. I said nothing. The man was insufferable, insufferably rude. My eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness now, and I could see his face, all shadowed planes, broad cheekbones prominent, eyes dark, half concealed by their heavy lids. Locks of raven hair fell in a fringe over his forehead, giving him the appearance of an evil monk. Even here, enclosed by darkness, I could sense the bull-like strength, the vitality. He was watching me, his mouth half curled in a mocking smile.

“You resent me,” I said. “I know that. I know why, too.”

“Resent you? No, Mrs. Baker, I pity you. You've no idea what you've let yourself in for.”

“No?”

“When you first arrived, I thought perhaps you knew nothing of the situation existing at Mallyncourt. I thought perhaps you might be innocent of any complicity in Edward's plan. I see now that he must have told you everything. You couldn't have married him for love. Edward's incapable of love, and you quite plainly despise him.”

“I've never heard anything so—”

“Surprised? I may be just a crude farmer, Mrs. Baker, but I'm not quite as dense as you may think. I observe things. When I saw the two of you together tonight, I knew it wasn't a love match on your part either. There was only one other explanation for your marrying him.”

“How dare you say—”

Lyman Robb took a long drag on the cigar, then hurled it over the balustrade. It made a wide orange streak in the darkness, exploding on the ground in a shower of sparks.

“I'll say one more thing, Mrs. Baker, and I'd advise you to listen very carefully. I've worked all my adult life for my uncle's estate—it's
been
my life—and I don't intend to stand by and let it fall into Edward's hands. I'll crush anyone who stands in my way.”

“Is—is that a threat, Mr. Robb?”

“You might say so—yes, you might say that. If you had any sense at all, you'd turn around and take the first coach back to London, but you won't, I fear. That being the case, I'd advise you to stay out of my way. You're much too attractive to be hurt.”

“Do me a favor, Mr. Robb,” I said quietly.

“Yes? What's that?”

“Go to Hades!”

He looked stunned, startled, and then he threw his head back and burst into gales of laughter. It rose and fell. It rumbled, loud, unrestrained, welling up from his chest with splendid richness. I stood there trembling with fury as he gave vent to that boisterous sound. He cut if off abruptly. He took a deep breath. When he spoke, his rough voice was strongly laced with mocking amusement.