Midnight at Mallyncourt (27 page)

“Is something wrong, Mrs. Baker?”

“Wrong? Of course not.”

“For a second there you looked almost as though someone had stepped on your grave.”

“What an absurd thing to say.”

“Jenny—”

I looked up, surprised. His dark eyes were grave, and he seemed to be struggling with himself, debating whether or not to reveal what was on his mind. The frown dug deep between his brows, a worried frown. Why should he be worried? My coffee cup began to rattle in its saucer. I set it down on the table, disturbed.

“What is it? What—what were you about to say?”

His mouth tightened. He grimaced, turning away. A pair of black leather gloves and a riding crop set on top of the sideboard, beside the silver service. Ignoring me, Lyman began to put the gloves on, pulling each one tight, flexing his fingers to get a proper fit. He picked up the riding crop, and when he turned back around his expression was severe. The moment of near-revelation was past. His manner was abrupt.

“I'm on your side,” he said tersely. “I want you to know that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said! I hate like hell having to leave today, but it's absolutely necessary I go to London. You'll be safe enough. The time isn't ripe yet.”

“I—don't know what you're talking about.”

Brows lowered, dark brown eyes glowering, he stared at me, the corners of his mouth tight. “No,” he said, “I don't believe you do. You're a bloody, naïve little fool, but under the circumstances that's just as well.”

“What—”

“I have to leave now, Mrs. Baker,” he said abruptly. “I want to get to the station in plenty of time. It's a long ride.”

He strode briskly out of the room before I could question him further, and as his heavy footsteps rang loudly down the hall I had a moment of complete frustration, a moment of tremulous fear, and then common sense came to my rescue. I had no earthly idea what he had been talking about, but I had no intentions of letting it upset me. Lyman Robb was an enigma, and I had enough on my mind at present without trying to figure out the meaning of his terse, cryptic remarks. Stubbornly, perhaps unwisely, I poured another cup of coffee, determined to forget about it.

I had just entered the back hall some thirty minutes later when George came clumping down the stairs, looking unusually robust in his dark blue livery. His blond hair was shaggier than ever, his brown eyes more roguish. He nodded to me as we passed, grinning a sly grin, and I noticed a bright pink hand mark burning on his left cheek. I wasn't at all surprised to find Susie upstairs in the long gallery, looking for all the world like a mischievous pixie with her upturned nose and merry eyes.

“Oh—
there
you are, Miss Jenny,” she cried. “I've been lookin' for you.”

“Indeed?”

“I was sidetracked,” she confessed. “I guess you must-a met George on th' stairs. I declare, Miss Jenny, a girl idn't
safe
any more. 'E tried to drag me into one of th' window recesses, said 'e was sick an' tired of playin' games. I gave 'im
such
a slap!”

I smiled, amused at her pretended outrage. She would have been much more outraged, I knew, had George
not
tried to molest her.

“I 'appen to know 'e was in th' village day before yesterday,” Susie continued. “'E was at th' jewelers', pricin' plain gold rings. Bob told me about it—Bob's one of th' grooms, an' 'e an' George are thick as thieves. I reckon I'll be gettin' that ring any day now,” she added.

“You said you were looking for me,” I reminded her.

“Oh yes. Th' old—uh—Lord Mallyn, 'e wants you to come to 'is room right away. I was passin' down th' 'all, mindin' my own business, when 'e flung th' door open an' poked 'is 'ead out, glarin' at me with those eyes. It gave me
such
a start! 'E said for me to fetch you. I declare, now that 'e's up an' about 'e's worse than ever—”

Lord Mallyn was indeed in a testy mood, complaining because his breakfast had been late, his valet had been all thumbs, his boots hadn't been properly glossed and that wretched dog, Ching, had had an accident all over one of his best Persian carpets. Wearing a dark brown suit and embroidered plum waistcoat, topaz and turquoise rings on his fingers, he bustled about like an irritable grasshopper, complaining bitterly and paying me no mind at all. Although his illness was firmly behind him, he still needed a great amount of rest, and the spurts of excessive nervous energy invariably left him weak and depleted. I waited patiently, standing in front of one of the vivid Chinese screens, examining the brass and jade ornaments on the table beside me. Lord Mallyn finally stopped bustling and fixed me with an angry stare, his brows lowered fiercely.

“Took your own sweet time gettin' here,” he snapped. “I get no cooperation, none whatsoever! I'm surrounded by incompetents! Just because I've been ill and out of commission for a few weeks everyone thinks they can run right over me, ignore my orders, make cheeky remarks—”

“You wanted to see me?” I interrupted.

“Why else would I
send
for you!”

I gave him a long, cool look, totally unperturbed. “If you're going to shout, Lord Mallyn, I'll leave. I have no intentions of being bullied by a nasty-tempered old man.”

Lord Mallyn glared at me as though on the verge of apoplexy, and then the fierceness vanished and he looked thoroughly delighted, emitting a dry, raspy chuckle that caused the three Pekinese to burrow under the bed covers in alarm. The old man grinned, regarding me with adoring eyes.

“Ah, Jenny, you do know how to set me down,” he said fondly. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“I—I do wish you wouldn't keep saying that.”

“Why shouldn't I? It's perfectly true. If it hadn't been for you—” He paused, frowning. “I have a confession to make, girl: I was much sicker than I ever let on. I was damn near the point of death, and, like a ruddy old fool, I refused to obey the doctors' orders. I wouldn't take my medicine, I insisted on havin' my port, no one could do a thing with me. If you hadn't come when you did, if you hadn't defied me and forced me to take my medicine and give up my port and do what the doctors said—”

“That's nonsense,” I told him.

“I know what I'm talkin' about!” he said crossly. “If I'd kept on at the rate I was goin' I'd already be six feet under. You're responsible for my recovery, girl, you and you alone.”

“That's rather an exaggeration, Lord Mallyn.”

“Don't contradict me!” he snapped. “I think I know a bit more about it than you do. You're an exasperating vixen, totally disrespectful, totally infuriatin', but I owe you a great deal. Don't go makin' faces! It's the truth—you think I'd admit it if it
weren't
?”

“I think this conversation has become a bore. I've got better things to do than—”

“There's something I want you to have,” Lord Mallyn interrupted. “I was prowlin' around the room this morning, opening drawers, looking at some of my treasures, and I found something—”

Lord Mallyn moved nimbly across the room, pulled open the drawer of a tall ebony cabinet inlaid with mother-of-pearl and, poking about irritably, finally located a small, dusty bag rather like a woman's reticule. Nodding with satisfaction, he slammed the drawer shut and came back over to where I was standing, swinging the bag by its worn drawstring. The contents clattered noisily as he moved.

“Got 'em in India—must-a been thirty years ago. Clean forgot I had 'em. Here, take a look!”

There was a gleam of anticipation in his eyes as he thrust the bag into my hands. It was surprisingly heavy, as though filled with rocks. I sat down in one of the worn Chippendale chairs and, holding the bag in my lap, struggled with the drawstring. It was tied tightly, the knot almost impossible to loosen. Lord Mallyn stood watching me, a wicked grin on his face, and I knew he must have re-tied the knot this way just to aggravate me. I threw him an irritable look and continued to struggle, and the knot finally gave. I shook the bag. Chunks of glittering green fire spilled heavily into my lap. I stared, too stunned to speak.

“Belonged to a Rajah,” the old man informed me. “I did a little piece of business for him—nothing illegal, mind you, but it saved him a considerable amount of embarrassment. He gave me these as—uh—a token of his esteem. I figure you'll want to have 'em set into a necklace. Well, don't just sit there, girl! Say something!”

I stared down at the lapful of emeralds, emeralds that sparkled with green and blue-green flames, vividly snapping fires that would surely burn one's fingers if touched. The smallest were the size of peas, the largest as large as grapes. They slipped and rolled over my skirt, glittering with incredible brilliance.

“Well!” he cried, bristling with impatience.

“I—I couldn't accept them,” I stammered.

“Stuff and nonsense! Of course you can! Vanessa got the family diamonds, Sarah's emerald necklace, the rubies. She went through the collection like a greedy child, grabbin' up everything in sight. It amused me to let her have 'em—baubles, didn't mean a thing to me after Sarah's death. I never let on about these, though. They're worth more than all the rest put together. You'll take 'em and be grateful!”

“I can't, Lord Mallyn.”

“Dammit, girl! Must you always try to thwart me! I
told
you, Vanessa got the others. These are yours by right!”

I looked down at the flashing, sparkling green splendor in my lap, and I shook my head. I was touched by his gesture, so touched there were tears in my eyes, but I couldn't accept the stones. There were so many reasons why I couldn't accept them. Never before since I had arrived at Mallyncourt had I felt so treacherously dishonest. I had deliberately come here to deceive this marvelous old man, and he wanted to repay my treachery with emeralds. One by one, I dropped them back into the bag. Lord Mallyn glared at me with an appalled expression. I re-tied the drawstring, composed now, the tears forced back.

“What are you
do
ing!” he exclaimed. “Blast you, Jenny! You're the most infuriating minx I ever clapped eyes on! You're going to accept those emeralds, you hear! You're going to keep every last one of 'em!”

“You're wrong,” I said.

I stood up. I set the bag on top of the ornate teakwood table nearby. Lord Mallyn seemed about to dance a jig, his eyes flashing angrily. I met his infuriated glare with a calm, level gaze. I had wronged him, I had wronged everyone at Mallyncourt through my deception, and I resolved now to make up for it. As Edward's true wife, I would be in the position to do so. I could continue to look after Lord Mallyn. I could continue my work with Lettice. Perhaps I could even help eliminate the contention and rivalry between the two cousins. Perhaps out of all this deception and dishonesty some good might come.

Lord Mallyn scowled. His anger vanished. He shook his head.

“You're sure?” he asked.

“I'm sure,” I said.

“I think I understand, Jenny.” His voice was quiet, his expression grave now. He frowned slightly, staring down at the carpet. “I'm an old fool full of bluster and brass, selfish, cantankerous, thoroughly miserable to be around. Everyone thinks I'm going through my second childhood, but I still have my wits, I'm still able to put two and two together. When Edward left Mallyncourt some weeks ago, it was with the express purpose of finding himself a wife, someone who would please me, impress me, influence me to draw up the will in his favor. I knew that, and I wasn't at all surprised when he brought you back—”

He paused, looking up at me. I was extremely uncomfortable, but I didn't look away.

“Yours wasn't a love match,” he continued. “That was obvious from the first. I've no doubt the marriage was little more than a bargain struck up between the two of you—you both had much to gain. Edward must have explained everything, told you what you must do. Am I right? Yes, I can see that I am. Well, Jenny, you've done your job—you've done it damned well. Despite any ulterior motive you may have had for agreeing to marry my nephew, you've proven yourself worthy over and over again. You can fake a lot of things, but you can't fake sincerity, you can't fake genuine concern. You've given a doddering old man a new lease on life, and I appreciate it. I bloody well intend to
show
my appreciation, too!”

“I won't take the emeralds, Lord Mallyn.”

The old man grinned. It was a wicked, mischievous grin. “I know that. I knew you wouldn't even before I offered 'em to you. You might say the emeralds were a final test—you passed with flyin' colors, girl. You proved I was right about you. You're going to get a damn sight more than emeralds, Jenny—that's a promise.”

“Lord Mallyn, there—there's something I want to tell—”

“I don't want to hear another word! There's nothing you could tell me that'd change my mind now, girl. You'd just be wastin' your breath and
my
time. Go on, get out of here now! I've got things to do! Where did that wretched valet put my quizzing glass? By the bed? On the table? Damn! What—are you still here? Out, girl. Out!”

I left. I went out to the back lawn and walked for a long, long time, thinking about what had happend, thinking about all the old man had said. He was going to make the will in Edward's favor. I should have been elated by this knowledge, but I wasn't. I kept thinking about Lyman, his love of the land, his hard work, and I was filled with remorse. Why? Why should I feel this way? Lyman was the enemy, and I was going to marry Edward, yet for a moment there I had been on the verge of confessing everything to Lord Mallyn, simply because of Lyman. I doubted now that my confession would have made any difference, and perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps after I married him I could persuade Edward to do right by his cousin. Perhaps I could make him see that Lyman was entitled to a rightful share.… Yes, I would do that. Somehow or other I would make up for the wrong I was doing. I would see that Lyman eventually got what he was entitled to. Why should I be so concerned about Lyman? Guilt. It must be guilt. It couldn't be anything else.…