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Authors: Candace Camp

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BOOK: Swept Away
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22

“S
uch a horrible way to die,” Phoebe said with a shudder. “Even though he killed Selby, I would not wish such a death on him.”

“It was awful,” Julia agreed.

It had been a week since Teasely had run out in front of the wagon and been trampled beneath the horses' feet, but Julia still could not quite get the scene out of her mind. The first two nights she had had nightmares about it, but the memory was beginning to fade gradually.

“I say, when is Stonehaven going to get here?” Geoffrey asked. “If I've got to be hauled off to the country, I'd as lief get started on it.”

He was half reclining on a couch in Julia's drawing room, as befitted his invalid status, a thin blanket across his legs. He had recovered almost entirely from his bullet wound over the past few days, but he was still a trifle pale, and his face was a good deal thinner. Phoebe had decided that what he needed to get well was a few weeks spent in the healthful air of the country. To Julia's amazement, Geoffrey had agreed to this scheme, and they were waiting now for Deverel's return, so that they could set off for Greenwood.

“I am sure he will be here soon,” Phoebe assured Geoffrey, smiling at him, and went over to tuck the blanket more securely about his legs.

Stonehaven had gone to a meeting with the Bow-street runner whom he had engaged to investigate Edmund Teasely and his embezzlement of three years ago. Deverel and Julia were driving down to Greenwood, as well, so that Julia could pack up her clothes and other possessions to ship to Stonehaven, where they were planning to go to spend a few quiet weeks by themselves while Deverel's mother was visiting friends in Brighton. They were travelling in caravan, with Geoffrey and Phoebe riding in Phoebe's carriage, and Deverel and Julia taking Gilbert along with them in the open-air curricle, to alleviate his travel sickness. Geoffrey, Julia thought, had met this news with great relief. Gilbert's nurse, the butler and much of their baggage had already gone ahead in a slower wagon.

There was the sound of footsteps in the hall, and all three of the occupants of the room turned toward the doorway as Deverel strode in.

“Good morning,” he greeted them all, but his eyes went to Julia, and he smiled in a way that was almost a caress.

“How did it go?” Julia ask.

“Yes, what did you find out?” Geoffrey asked.

“Teasely was the embezzler. There's no question about it. Fitz and Varian were with me at the meeting with the runner, as well as the agent. They'll make sure that everyone learns of it. Varian said he would drive down to Farrell to tell Pamela and Thomas himself.”

“Thank goodness!” Phoebe exclaimed.

“Yes, except now you will be forced to meet Pamela socially again,” Julia pointed out dryly.

“The runner searched his rooms. He found a pocket pistol and a black face mask, such as the man who attacked you and Geoffrey wore. He also discovered several possessions that are far too expensive for a man on a clerk's salary to afford. That watch and chain he wore, for instance. Well-tailored clothes, expensive furniture. In his desk, at the bottom of one drawer, he found several sheets of paper on which Teasely had practiced copying Selby's handwriting. Most damning of all, there was a miniature portrait of Teasely in the rooms, and he took it over to the landlady. She firmly identified Teasely as being the ‘gentleman' who rented the room from her as Jack Fletcher.”

“It seems odd that he knew about that name,” Geoffrey mused.

“Yes. But I suppose Selby must have mentioned it sometime in his hearing.”

Julia sighed. “I wish—I thought that when we found out who the real embezzler was, I would feel more…satisfied, somehow. I mean, I'm very glad that now people will know it wasn't Selby who did it, and Gilbert won't have that scandal hanging over him. But I thought it would seem more final, like the end of something. I thought it would make me happier.”

“Perhaps it was seeing him die in that awful way,” Phoebe said.

“It was terrible,” Julia admitted. “But I think I feel empty because he didn't confess. I wanted to know exactly what happened, and for everyone else to know it, too. This way, there is still some doubt. I am afraid that there will be those who will continue to wonder whether it was him or Selby. Or maybe it's that I realize now that finding Selby's killer will never make up for losing him.”

Deverel reached over and took her hand, and Julia cast a glowing look up at him. Phoebe, watching them, smiled to herself.

“Come, Geoffrey,” Phoebe said, standing up. “It's time to get you into the carriage.”

“Mmm. Likely to take a while.” Geoffrey took off the blanket and swung his legs onto the floor, levering himself to his feet with his cane. “Gad, now I know what it will feel like when I'm eighty.”

He left the room, leaning on his cane and with Phoebe solicitously supporting his other arm. “I shall send up for the maid to bring Gilbert down as soon as I get Geoffrey into the carriage,” Phoebe told them over her shoulder as they shuffled out the door.

Julia had seen Phoebe glance at them and smile, and she suspected that her sister-in-law had purposely given them this time alone together. Julia was glad that she had.

“Deverel…”

“Yes?”

“This is very hard for me, but I have been thinking about this for days. I have to say it. I—I must apologize for what I did to you. For thinking that you could have been the one who embezzled the money. And for doing those awful things to you.”

A lazy smile quirked his mouth. “You mustn't be sorry. I'm glad they happened. Otherwise I wouldn't have met you.”

“But at least you wouldn't have been forced into marrying me.”

Deverel smiled enigmatically. “I think you will find that I am rarely forced into anything.”

Julia looked at him.
Was he saying that he had married her because he wanted to, not because of propriety?
She laced her fingers together and gazed down at them. “The other day, did you mean what you said?”

“When? What did I say?”

“When you thought that I had been shot, and you came running in. You—you called me your love, and I—wondered if you meant that.”

“Yes.”

Julia's head snapped up. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Yes, really. Why are you so surprised?”

“Because—well, because of everything. The way I tricked you, the things I did to you, what I thought about you. At the time you married me, you despised me, and I was afraid that you would never feel anything for me except that.”

Deverel took her hand and looked into her eyes. “I love you. God knows, I tried not to, and when I couldn't keep from it, still I tried to hide it from you. But I think I've loved you from the first moment I saw you. When I found out that you had only pretended passion for me, I was hurt. I was furious with you, but I don't think I would have been so angry if I hadn't felt so much for you.”

“I didn't pretend it,” Julia told him candidly. “I planned to worm a confession out of you, but when you began to kiss me, I—well, the desire was all real, not feigned. I couldn't think. I had no control over myself, let alone you. That's why I decided to kidnap you. I realized that if I continued doing what I had been doing, I would wind up sleeping with you and still learning nothing.”

He smiled faintly and raised her hand to his lips. “You have done much to soothe my wounded ego.”

Julia made an exasperated noise. “As if you did not know that! I think I have amply demonstrated my desire for you.” She turned her face away, embarrassed by her own blunt words.

“I have hoped so.” He reached out and took her chin, gently pushing her face back to face him. “But women are more easily able to feign such feelings than men.”

“I have not feigned it. Why else do you think I came so boldly into your bedroom that night? I threw myself at you.”

“You wanted children.”

“I wanted
you.

“Julia…” He gazed at her wonderingly, reaching out to touch her cheek with his fingertips.

“I suppose I want children, but they were not what was uppermost in my mind. It was the only decent excuse I could think of. After you made love to me that morning, then set me aside and said it wouldn't happen again, I didn't know what to do. I wanted so much for you to make love to me again, but you didn't want me. I tried to seduce you, coming into your room that evening, but still you put me away. So I said the only thing I could think of.”

“Didn't want you! My God, Julia, I wanted you more than anything in the world. Why do you think I stayed away so assiduously? I was afraid that if I was around you, I wouldn't be able to control myself and I would take you again, even though I had promised not to. I thought you must hate me, the way I took you after all my vows not to—and so crudely, too, throwing you down on the table because I couldn't wait to go upstairs to bed. Your first time should have been tender and gentle, and instead I—”

Julia smiled up at him. “I didn't want to wait, either. I—I found it very exciting. That morning was when I knew that I loved you.”

Deverel sucked in a surprised breath. “Julia…” He started to speak, then pulled her into his arms, burying his mouth in hers.

They were interrupted by the entrance of a small whirlwind in the shape of a six-year-old boy. “Uncle Dev! Aunt Julie! Look, I'm all clean. Mama says I can ride in your curcal.”

With a reluctant sigh, Deverel released Julia and turned to the boy. “Curricle. Yes, you may, and I think you will probably feel much better than riding in the carriage.”

“Yippee!” Gilbert demonstrated his elation by jumping straight up several times. When he stopped, he tucked his hand in Deverel's and confided, “I'm glad you're my new uncle.”

Deverel smiled and looked at Julia. “You know, my boy, so am I.”

23

J
ulia sat on the terrace, gazing out across the peaceful gardens of Greenwood. The past two days had been blissful—primarily, Julia knew, because she had spent them with Deverel. She loved Greenwood, but she knew that she would be just as happy when they went on to Stonehaven. The one thing she needed to be happy anywhere was Deverel.

She turned at the sound of footsteps on the flagstones behind her. Geoffrey was walking toward her, and Phoebe was beside him, her hand tucked into his. Geoffrey looked much better than he had two days ago, and Julia thought that the country air must indeed be good for one's health. She noticed that Phoebe seemed radiant, as well.

“Hello,” she said, curious. “What are you two up to?”

“Is it that obvious?” Phoebe asked, and her smile broadened even more.

“I'm not sure. I don't know what ‘it' is, but you both look…so happy. As if you knew a wonderful secret.”

Phoebe chuckled. “We do. We came out here to tell you.”

“What?” Julia leaned forward, intrigued by Phoebe's words.

But Phoebe did not respond immediately. Instead, she waited while Geoffrey sat down. Then she had to fuss over him for a few minutes to make sure that he was comfortable and warm, but without the sun shining in his eyes.

“Phoebe…” Julia said warningly. “Will you please tell me what you're talking about?”

Phoebe grinned as she sat down beside Geoffrey. She glanced at him, and it was he who spoke. “Phoebe has done me the great honor of consenting to become my wife.”

Julia gaped at them. “What?”

“Geoffrey and I are getting married!” Phoebe cried. “It's still a secret, for we haven't told Gilbert yet, but I—”

“Phoebe!” Julia interrupted her, jumping up from her chair and running to hug her friend. “Geoffrey! Congratulations! I never dreamed—” She began to laugh. “I must have been blind. I had no idea.” She bent down to hug Geoffrey, as well, though carefully.

“Not one to wear my heart on my sleeve,” Geoffrey explained. “Always admired Phoebe, though.”

“I never thought you would expend the energy to get married,” Julia teased.

“My God, Julia, I've visited the country twice in the past month,” Geoffrey drawled. “What more could a man do for a woman?”

Julia laughed merrily. “I hadn't thought about that. You're right, of course. But, tell me, are you planning to turn Phoebe into a city girl?”

“We've agreed to divide our time between the two places,” Phoebe answered for him. “I will be quite happy in the city, but Gilbert must spend a good portion of the year here, on the property that will be his. Geoffrey says that's very important.”

Julia was reminded of the way Phoebe had always peppered her conversation with the words “Selby says.” It made tears threaten, although Julia wasn't entirely sure whether they were tears of happiness or sorrow.

“I am sure he's right,” Julia agreed. “But, tell me, when is the wedding to be? And where?”

Geoffrey, foreseeing a long session of thoroughly female talk threatening, rose to his feet. “Believe it's time for that nap.”

“Coward,” Julia gibed at him.

“Nonsense. But a fellow has to get his sleep—demmed difficult to do at night out here. Did you know—” he continued indignantly, “that there's a wretched bird
here
that hoots all night, too?”

“Owls do that,” Julia said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Imagine that. I had thought it was something peculiar to Buckinghamshire.” With those words, he hobbled away.

Julia turned back to Phoebe, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Oh, Fee, I'm so happy for you.”

“Are you really? I'm glad. I was afraid you might feel that I was—betraying Selby's memory.”

“No. Of course not. It's been three years. It's time for you to stop grieving over Selby and begin your life again. You are too young and far too wonderful to immure yourself in widowhood.” She paused, then grinned. “Though I must confess, I am somewhat surprised that it was Geoffrey.”

“I know. When I began to realize that I had tender feelings toward him, I told myself I must not, for Geoffrey was not the sort of man to marry. Imagine my surprise when he asked for my hand. You could have knocked me over with a feather.”

“No, I did not mean I was surprised that Geoffrey wanted to marry you. He was a confirmed bachelor, of course, but someone like you could change any man's mind. I am surprised that
you
agreed. He is, well, so unlike Selby.”

“I know. Isn't it odd? But I think that is one reason that I was able to fall in love with him. I wasn't always comparing him to Selby. He was so different that I never even thought of it. I fell in love with his own qualities. It's not the same as it was with Selby, of course. Everything with Selby was so grand and romantic and exciting. But, you know, I don't think I want excitement anymore. I feel comfortable with Geoffrey, warm and good. I think he is the sort of man with whom I could happily grow old.”

“I'm so glad.”

“Which way is it with you and Deverel?” Phoebe asked.

Julia paused, thinking. “I guess it's a little of both. I was beginning to think that I would not ever find a man I wanted to marry. Isn't it odd that that man should turn out to be Lord Stonehaven?”

They settled down after that to the happy discussion of wedding plans, and almost an hour sped by before one of the footmen came out onto the terrace.

“My lady, the Honorable Varian St. Leger, Mrs. St. Leger and Master Thomas are here.”

“Oh, dear.” Phoebe's face fell. “That is, I mean, show them into the drawing room. We shall be right there.”

The footman bowed and withdrew. Phoebe looked at Julia and sighed.

“We are bound to have to see her sometime,” Julia said.

“Yes, I know. It's just…why did she have to spoil today?”

“Look at it this way, at least I am still here to share the burden.”

“There is that.” Phoebe brightened a little.

They strolled into the house, going to the drawing room, where their three visitors awaited them.

“Julia! Phoebe!” Thomas cried. “Isn't it the most wonderful news? I
knew
it wasn't Selby. But imagine it being that Teasely fellow. I was sure it was Stonehaven. Of course,” he added naively, “it's quite good that it turned out that it wasn't, since you married the fellow.”

“Yes, it was fortuitous,” Julia agreed. “Hello, Thomas.” She went to give him a kiss on the cheek and a hug, then turned to the others. “Varian, it's good to see you again. And Pamela—so
good
of you to call.” She gave the words an ironic inflection.

“Julia.” Pamela flashed a painful smile. “Phoebe. When Varian told us what had transpired, I felt we had to come. Isn't that right, Varian?”

“Of course. I was terribly happy to find out it wasn't Selby. Always had trouble believing that he could have done such a thing. Didn't I say so at the time?”

“Yes, you did, and you were absolutely right,” Julia agreed, feeling a stab of guilt as she remembered the way she and Deverel had suspected Varian of engineering the plot against Selby. “You were one of the few who doubted the lies.” Julia cast a glance at Pamela, which Pamela returned with venom.

They sat down in a stiff group and looked at one another. Finally Pamela said, “I am having a party in honor of Varian's visit. Just a small thing, of course, nothing grand. Dinner and perhaps a little dancing, if everyone is inclined. I hope I may count on the two of you.”

“I am afraid that Stonehaven and I will have gone home by then,” Julia said.

“But I did not tell you when it was.”

“Nevertheless,” Julia replied pointedly.

Pamela raised her eyebrows at the implied insult. “Really, Julia, you must learn to mind that tongue of yours if you hope to move in the sort of company Lord Stonehaven keeps.”

“Deverel admires my wit.”

“Indeed. How odd. But then, Stonehaven was always different.”

A silence fell after that. Gamely Varian started up the conversation again with a few commonplaces about the weather, and Phoebe fell in with it. Julia said little, but Pamela soon recovered her tongue and embarked upon her favorite subject: herself. She discussed her visit to London, the new dresses she had bought and the redecoration that she planned for the music room at Farrow. Julia watched her, somewhat amazed that even Pamela could come to call after three years of cutting her and Phoebe socially and act as if nothing had happened.

Finally Thomas broke into his mother's monologue as she paused to catch a breath. “How did you figure out that it was Teasely?” he asked. “I want to hear the whole thing. Varian didn't know the details.”

Julia obligingly began to tell him about it, noting with amusement that Pamela was growing more and more impatient at the talk about something other than herself.

With a tinkling laugh that grated on Julia's nerves, she said, “Well, I for one never liked that Teasely fellow. I am not at all surprised it turned out that he did it.”

“That's odd,” Julia commented acidly. “Given how often you trumpeted it about that Selby was the thief.”

Pamela put on a wounded expression. “How can you say such a thing? I was always very fond of dear Selby. He was so kind to Thomas, always coming to see him or going riding with him and whatnot—when it must have been tiresome, you know, being with a child so much.”

Anger flared up inside Julia at the uncertainty that touched Thomas's face at his mother's words. “Selby was very fond of Thomas,” she said bitingly. “I am sure that he never thought of it as being ‘kind.' He enjoyed Thomas's company.”

“Why, of course.” Pamela forced a smile. “That is exactly the sort of man Selby was. It was difficult for me to believe that he had stolen anything from Thomas.”

“I noticed that you overcame the difficulty quite well.”

“I thought he must have done it—like everyone else who heard the evidence. It was so clear, so obvious, that I did not trust my instincts. Why, I don't think I would ever have accepted it if Selby had not committed suicide and left that note. It is hard to deny it when a man admits his own guilt.”

Julia went still. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck start to rise.

“What note?” Phoebe asked in confusion.

“Yes, Pamela, what note are you talking about?” Julia asked in a hard voice. “Do you mean the one Stonehaven never made public? The one no one knew the contents of besides Deverel and Varian?”

Pamela went pale. She stared at Julia, not saying a word.

“What are you talking about?” Phoebe said, bewildered. “There was no suicide note. Was there?”

“We didn't know about it, Phoebe,” Julia answered her, but she never took her eyes off Pamela. “Stonehaven and Varian kept it a secret, because it contained things they thought too painful for you to know. Lies, of course, lies that the embezzler wanted us to believe. Tell me, Pamela, how did you know the contents of the note?”

“I—why, I'm not sure. There was gossip everywhere.”

“Not about that note. No one knew about it.”

“Doubtless Varian told me.”

Varian turned a blank expression on her. “No. I never told you. Dev and I agreed that no one should know about it.”

“It was you, wasn't it?” Julia surged to her feet, her fists clenching by her sides. “You were in on it!”

Varian's jaw dropped. “Pamela?”

“Don't be absurd!” Pamela, too, stood up, and began to move nervously away from Julia. “It was my own son's trust.”

“That is what makes you even more despicable. I should have guessed you were in on it. You were always complaining about how small your widow's mite was. I remember you standing right here and talking about how unfair it was that Walter had left his entire estate to Thomas, leaving you a mere pittance.”

“A mere pittance!” Varian exclaimed. “Damme, I'd like to have such a pittance to live on. How could you have said that, Pamela? Walter was most generous with you.”

“No doubt she did not reveal that side of herself to you, Varian. It was Selby she was always pressing to authorize the trust to give her more money.”

“I was his mother! I was raising him. Surely I was entitled to enough money for his upkeep!”

“New draperies for your bedchamber—and that only six months after you had entirely redecorated it. New clothes, a new barouche because you had decided that your carriage was too ‘dowdy.' You call that Thomas's upkeep? Oh, no, Pamela, that game won't work with me. Phoebe and I know how you badgered Selby for money time and time again. Everyone in the whole house could hear your arguments.”

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