Midnight at Mallyncourt (24 page)

I had grown fond of Lord Mallyn, very fond, and he had come to depend on me. He didn't know what he would do without me. He said that repeatedly. Could I leave him? I had grown fond of Lettice, too. The child was gradually blooming, thorns softening into petals, and what would happen to her if she discovered my deceit? What would it do to her? And there was Edward. Yes, there was Edward. There was no moonlight now, no frothy bougainvillea, no tremulous fear inside, and my mind was clear. Perhaps I didn't love him. What is love? I asked myself. How does one know it? I told myself I didn't love him, and I believed that most of the time, yet Edward Baker had become the center of my world, his presence so strong that it effected my every thought, my every action, and even though I knew him, even though I might even actually despise him, I couldn't visualize a life without that strong central force.

What was I going to do when he made his next move? I had been so sure there in the moonlit gardens two nights ago, but now I wasn't sure at all. I told myself I couldn't leave Lord Mallyn, couldn't fail Lettice, but perhaps that was merely a subterfuge on my part, something to hide the unpleasant fact that it was Edward I couldn't leave, couldn't fail. Here, with the wind tearing at my hair and the moors stretching bleakly on every side, I could be entirely honest with myself for the first time.

Tired, filled with a weary languor, I climbed a slope and, leaving the moors behind, started back across the fields. They were empty, too, but rich and loamy underfoot, covered with green. They had brought in a great yield before and would again in the future, but Lyman respected the land he worked and rotated the crops to keep it vital and productive. It was late now, the sky a lighter gray, turning yellow, and on the horizon orange and golden banners blazed, spreading, fading. There was a faint haze in the air and soon, I knew, as soon as the last banner faded, the sky would lose all color and gradually blacken and the haze would take on the purple tints of twilight. Across the fields I could see the avenue of limes, a narrow passageway opening through the woods. The rooftop of Mallyncourt reared up over the leafy trees beyond, the ornate pinnacles bathed in sunlight.

I thought about the house, about that dusty east wing, closed up and given over to decay except for that one bizarre room with its many reds and the erotic bronzes. Events and emotions following one right after another had temporarily eclipsed that mystery, yet mystery there was. What secret did that room hold? What caused the noises the servants spoke of? Why had Edward been so alarmed when he found me in the room, and why had Lyman been lurking in the hall that night before Gerry's arrival? Why had he told me to keep quiet about that midnight encounter? I had been too occupied with other things to give much thought to that room and the mystery surrounding it, but I thought about it now, strolling toward the avenue of limes, and I had the disconcerting feeling that I should
know
the answers to all those questions, that it was something quite obvious, something I should have realized immediately. It was as though the answers were there in the back of my mind, half shrouded in mist, striving to break through, but no matter how hard I tried to summon them they continued to elude me.

One problem, at least, had been solved. Gerald Prince was no longer at Mallyncourt. He had left the morning after the ball, long before anyone got up. His sudden, abrupt departure had been puzzling at first. I knew a train left the station at six o'clock in the morning, but how had he gotten to the station? There had been no one to drive him there, not at that hour, and when the stable boys got up they reported that all the horses were still in their stalls. Did he walk two miles, carrying his bags? That wasn't like Gerry, not at all. I had been extremely mystified until Edward informed me later on in the day that he had seen Gerry off himself. Immediately after they had their nightcap in the study, Edward had given him the money, Gerry had packed his bags and, while everyone else was asleep, Edward had saddled two horses. They had ridden to the station together, and then Edward had led Gerry's horse from the station, arriving back at Mallyncourt just before dawn. Gerald Prince had gone, ten thousand pounds richer, and Edward assured me he wouldn't be back to bother us again.

I had explained to the others that Clive had had an urgent appointment in London and had to leave suddenly. Lord Mallyn expressed relief. Lyman was indifferent. Vanessa, though, had been acting most strangdly these past two days. She had been moody, upset, her temper flaring on several occasions. She was more openly resentful of Edward, almost as though she knew he had been the cause of Gerry's departure. Yesterday, sitting in one of the window recesses with a book in my lap, I had happened to glance out at the back lawn. Edward and Vanessa had been together near the back hedge, and she seemed to be berating him furiously, her eyes flashing, her cheeks flushed a bright pink. Although naturally I couldn't hear anything, I could sense her fury. Edward had been cool and remote, untouched by her words, and Vanessa had finally stormed back to the veranda, leaving him alone. He had watched her departure with indifferent blue eyes, then shook his head and strolled calmly across the lawn and out of sight.

She had been petulant and sulky at dinner last night, snapping at one of the servants, glaring at the rest of us, her remarks even bitchier and more scathing than usual. Her effervescent spirits were completely missing, her gaeity gone ever since the night of the ball. Was it because Gerry had left without telling her? Of course, I told myself. Vanessa was a tempestuous creature, all fire beneath that lovely surface, frustrated now because her lover had deserted her without an explanation. Edward had probably made some taunting remark about it that had caused her to lash out at him so vindictively. She had always resented him, and now she simply wasn't bothering to hide it beneath a civilized façade.

She had even more reason to resent him in the past day or so, for Lord Mallyn had made certain everyone knew his lawyer was coming next Tuesday to draw up the will, and he had dropped several broad hints that Edward would be his heir. Lyman smoldered in silence, and his loss would be Vanessa's loss as well. If her bright scintillation had been replaced by temperament, it was no wonder. Oh well, I reflected, she would soon enough find another man. A woman like Vanessa couldn't be without a man for long. Gerry would be replaced, as Lyle Radcliff had been, and even though Edward might inherit Mallyncourt, Lyman would still continue to handle the estate, she would still have a place. Until Lord Mallyn died. Would Edward really sell the house and farms then? Somehow I couldn't believe that.

Leaving the fields behind, I started down the avenue of limes. It was long, several hundred yards, leading from the stables to the fields, and narrow, perhaps twenty feet across. The limes grew tall on either side, and the ground was hard and uneven, the grass sparse and half dead, for, leading directly to the open fields as it did, it was used as a shortcut by horseback riders who preferred not to follow the formal drive around to the gatehouse. Lyman rode down the avenue every morning on his way to the tenant farms, and Vanessa frequently charged up and down it to exercise her horse when she wasn't in the mood for a long ride. It was spread with thick shadows now, and the sky overhead was darker, the yellow fading. A brisk wind had sprung up, causing the limes to stir and groan like live things. Leaves rattled crisply as I passed.

The light was beginning to go as I reached the stables. The low brown stone buildings were coated with shadows, and, beyond, Mallyncourt towered darkly, brown and black, sunlight burnishing the pinnacles a dark orange. I would just have time to wash and dress for dinner, I reflected, listening to the horses stamping and neighing in their stalls. A stocky, brown-eyed groom perched on a stool in front of one of the stalls, tattered red locks falling over his brow as he mended a harness, and another lad carted a load of hay across the cobbled yard. I recalled that the last time I had been here Lyman and I had come through the woods from another direction, the afternoon I had gone to the village to buy Amanda. We had run into Vanessa, and she had made a suggestive remark about the two of us. So much had happened since that afternoon. It might have been an eternity ago.

As I approached the side door, it opened. Edward stepped outside and stood on the walk, waiting for me. He wore tight brown breeches and a beige silk shirt open at the throat, the full-gathered sleeves billowing in the breeze. The breeze ruffled his thick hair as well, and with his tall brown boots turned down just below the knees he needed only a cutlass to make him the very image of a ruthless blond pirate ready to loot and plunder. I put the picture out of my mind, irritated with myself for such fanciful thinking. Edward observed me with heavy-lidded eyes.

“So there you are,” he said in a lazy drawl.

“Hello, Edward.”

“I've been looking for you. You've been gone for hours.”

“I was—walking.”

“I see that. You look wonderfully windblown and radiant, my dear.”

I ignored the compliment. “You said you were looking for me. Was there something you wanted?”

The minute the words left my mouth I regretted them. Edward looked at me with eyelids drooping and smiled, his lips curling slowly at one corner. I didn't like that smile, nor did I like the look in his eyes. He wanted something, yes. His manner made that perfectly clear.

“What did you wish to see me about?” I asked stiffly.

“I wanted to remind you of our date.”

“Date?” I didn't know what he was talking about.

He nodded slowly. “I promised to show you that old Roman fort, remember? I thought we might go tomorrow.”

“I—I had forgotten all about it. I'm—really not all that interested, Edward.”

“No?”

“Besides, I have things I must do. The fort is five miles away, you said. We'd be gone most of the day. I—I promised Lettice I'd help her with some embroidery, and Lord Mallyn will want me to—”

“In other words, you're afraid.”

I—

Edward came closer, stopping not more than a foot away from me. Lips curling, eyes hooded, he rested his forearms on my shoulders, and I looked up at him. I could smell the male, leathery smell, and the smell of slightly damp silk, and I could feel the throbbing warmth of his body. Beneath the chilly, remote façade, he was an intensely sensual man. I had always known that. The façade was missing now. Now he was simply male.

“You're afraid,” he repeated.

“Edward, I—”

I couldn't finish my sentence. The words seemed to catch in my throat. I felt weak, trembling inside, and I despised myself for that weakness and despised him for knowing it was there.

“Why deny the inevitable, Jenny? Why put if off any longer? It's something both of us have known would happen, something both of us have wanted to happen.”

I looked into those incredibly blue eyes, and I knew that he was vile. He was perfectly aware of the power he had over me, and I was aware of it, too. I couldn't deny it any longer. I fought it, even now, but I knew I wouldn't be able to fight much longer. Edward seemed to sense my thoughts. The smile broadened on his lips.

“Good,” he said.

“I despise you, Edward.”

“Tomorrow I'll prove otherwise.”

“I—I don't intend to go.”

“You'll go.”

Edward continued to gaze into my eyes, his forearms resting heavily on my shoulders, his body inches from my own. His magnetism was almost overwhelming, that lazy sensuality he could turn on or off at will, and I felt helpless under the force of it. He cared nothing for me. I was merely a tool, someone he intended to use to further his own ambitions. I knew that, but the knowledge didn't help at all, not now, not with his eyes gazing into mine and the weight of his forearms bearing down on my shoulders. Intellect and instinct told me to pull away, to demolish him with some scathing remark, but I couldn't.

Several long seconds passed, each one tormenting. The sun was sinking rapidly now, tinting the air with a blazing orange light that would be gone in minutes. Shadows moved like black veils drawing over the dark brown wall behind us. Edward finally stepped back, dropping his arms.

“Tomorrow,” he said.

He took my elbow and led me into the house. The side door opened into a long, narrow passage that led directly to the back hall. Strong rays of bright orange light spilled through the windows, fading almost as soon as they touched the opposite wall. Our footsteps rang on the bare stone floor. I was silent, a battle raging within me, and Edward still smiled, the confident, victorious male, so pleased with himself, anticipating what he knew was to come. We stepped into the back hall. Almost all the orange light was gone now, and the long hall seemed to be filled with a misty blue-gray haze that deepened even as we passed down the length of it. Edward stopped a few yards from the wide stone steps.

“I'll have Cook pack a picnic basket,” he said. “As you don't ride one of the men will drive us there and come back for us a few hours later. We'll leave around, say ten o'clock in the morning. It should be a most enjoyable day—”

He cut himself short as footsteps rang above us. We both looked up to see Vanessa descending. She wore a gown of cream-colored satin printed with delicate pink roses and tiny jade leaves, the small puffed sleeves dropping off the shoulder. The low cut bodice left half of her bosom bare, and the skirt belled out in rich, creamy folds. Her hair was loose, spilling down in lustrous ebony waves. Seeing us, she hesitated for a moment, her cheeks rather pale. Edward wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him and holding me in a loose, affectionate grip almost as though he wanted to flaunt our closeness for her benefit. Vanessa came on down the stairs, slowly. She was completely poised now, but her violet-blue eyes were dark with an animosity she didn't even try to conceal.