The Dowager's Daughter (17 page)

John and Marcus stumbled into one another on the landing.

“Damnation,” Marcus muttered. “Bunch of incompetents. What could be so difficult about keeping two prisoners under lock and key—one of them wounded at that?”

“Perhaps he has come to tell us that Reston has taken a turn for the worse.”

“This early in the morning? I would hardly think so.”

“Then we should waste no more time in idle speculation. Let’s get to the library and listen to what Collins has to say.”

Later the same morning, Althea and Celeste were about to take a turn around the gardens when they encountered Marcus and John being admitted into the entrance hall by Jarvis.

They exchanged greetings. John smiled, and Althea’s lips tingled at the remembrance of the kisses they had shared. To cover her embarrassment at harboring such an immodest thought, she hastily offered her guests the hospitality of the small reception room.

Marcus declined. “If it is all the same to you, John and I would far rather accompany you both on your morning constitutional.”

When they came to the lily pond, Marcus motioned them toward the bench. “Please sit down. This should be far enough out of earshot.”

“Then I am correct in thinking that this is not a social call?” Celeste asked.

Marcus nodded.

Celeste put a hand to her throat “Then it is as I feared—those monsters have escaped! You should have killed them when you had the opportunity. If anything should happen to Althea—”

“Calm down, dear lady,” John interjected. “Those villains are in no position to harm anyone. The gaoler found both of them dead when he went to give them their breakfast this morning.”

“But how could that be?” Althea inserted. “Reston’s wound was in no way fatal and I fail to see how the—er, retribution Mama exacted upon Joubert’s person could have caused his demise.”

“You are correct on both points, Althea,” Marcus said. “This would be a good time to interject a word of caution on the subject. Should you, or any member of your household, meet with an accident involving even the slightest amount of blood loss, on no account call upon the services of your local doctor. Reston died because that fool parted him from whatever was left of his blood.”

“But what of Joubert?”

“He was beaten to death by a couple of drunken fishermen who were put in his cell later on in the evening. He was foolish enough to complain that the noise they made disturbed his sleep.”

Althea was aghast “And for that, they took his life?”

“Not quite,” Marcus replied. “His French accent was his downfall. It seems that both men had lost a brother at the Battle of Trafalgar.”

Althea shook her head. “Those drunken fools. Now they have managed to heap more sorrow upon the heads of their families.”

Celeste laughed nervously. “I had better watch my step when walking about Camberly.”

Althea put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “You have nothing to fear, Mama. The village people love you. Besides, your English is flawless—you do not have the slightest trace of a French accent.”

“You are missing the point,” Marcus said. “Joubert and Reston are dead, therefore cannot implicate your uncle in this matter. I am sure that for your sake, Celeste, the Prince Regent will use his influence to see that your uncle’s part in this intrigue is not mentioned. His Royal Highness is well aware of your role in our effort to bring about the downfall of Buonaparte’s government—and greatly admires you for it”

Celeste glowed with pleasure. “I am grateful for his gracious condescension.”

“It is well earned,” Marcus rejoined. He stood up, and the others followed his lead. “That about covers it, I should think. As soon as this incident has been resolved by the powers that be, you will be hearing from me.”

Althea held out her hand. “We are most obliged to you, Marcus. Your news will afford our uncle great comfort. He is really torn up by the guilt and shame.”

“Pray do not tell him,” Celeste said. “It will do the old rapscallion good to suffer for a while.”

“But Mama,” Althea remonstrated, “how could you be so heartless?”

“Very easily. Do not forget, my darling, that I, too, am very much a de Maligny.” As she said this, she linked arms with Marcus. They walked back to the house, drowning out the birdsong with their chatter and laughter. John and Althea trailed behind them, the awkward silence that hung between them a stark contrast.

Althea and Celeste watched the brothers ride away.

“It seems that is all I ever do,” Althea murmured.

“What might that be, darling?”

“Watch John Ridley ride out of my life.”

Celeste rolled her eyes. “And whose fault might that be, do you suppose? You must be the most difficult young lady to court in all of England.”

Althea sighed. “I know that, Mama. I wish it were otherwise. What do you suppose is wrong with me?’’

“Foolish pride. Lack of trust. A feeling deep inside that no one on earth could possibly love you for yourself, and not chancing that it might be otherwise. Would you like me to continue?”

“No, Mama. I think that is enough.”

Celeste looked rueful. “Forgive me, darling. I should think before I speak.”

“You only spoke the truth. I am a very puzzling creature.”

Celeste put her arm around Althea. “One that I happen to love very, very much.”

Althea laid her head upon her mother’s shoulder, and kept it there until John and Marcus disappeared from view.

After an eventful morning, the brothers found returning to Seacliff something of an anticlimax. After lunch, they read for a while, then Marcus cast aside the book he was reading.

“Good heavens, John, how do you stand it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“This life. I have half a mind to return to London. There is to be a masque taking place at the Vauxhall Gardens later in the week that is supposed to be all the crack. Care to come along?”

John looked askance. “Thank you, no. I happen to like it here.”

Later in the afternoon the sun came out, casting a shower of diamonds over the sea. Unable to resist the sparkling water, the brothers discarded their clothes in favor of heavy cotton robes and then leaped from terrace to terrace to the beach like a couple of exuberant schoolboys. Here, they threw off their cotton robes and ran naked into the water.

“So much for your Vauxhall Gardens,” John called out. “I will race you out to the rock.”

“Why do you bother? You have yet to win.”

John laughed. “One day your dissolute life is bound to catch up with you and I intend to be there when it happens.”

“By then you will be too rusty to move. See you anon, young sprout”

With that, Marcus sliced through the waves with firm, rhythmic strokes, reaching the rock several yards ahead of John. After expending that first burst of energy, they were content to alternate between riding the waves and basking in the water like seals.

As Marcus floated on his back, he became so relaxed his eyes closed. John slapped a spray of water into his face. “Wake up, sleepyhead, it is time to go.”

Marcus gave a start “Good Lord, John, will you ever grow up? Must you persist in playing the aggravating brat?”

John grinned. “Brings back memories of the good old days, does it not? Only now, Aunt Gertrude is no longer here to give us hot chocolate when we return to the house.”

“Nothing ever stays the same,” Marcus replied. “Nor should you expect it to. Come on. You are right—we have stayed out here long enough. It’s getting cold.”

On returning to their chambers, both kept the servants hopping, furnishing them with ever more buckets of hot water as they indulged in long, leisurely baths. Then they went down to dinner, glowing from their afternoon in the sun.

The cook had prepared a particularly succulent roast of beef served with fresh vegetables from the kitchen garden, but John ate very little. Afterwards, he absently twirled his cognac around the sides of the goblet while gazing morosely into a candle flame.

Finally, Marcus put down his cigar and thumped the table with his fist. “For goodness’ sake, John, marry the girl and have done with it”

John scowled. “Go ahead, rub salt in the wound if it gives you pleasure. I would marry her tonight, if she would have me. I even took the trouble to procure a special license lest the occasion should arise.”

Marcus raised a brow. “Did you indeed? A trifle presumptuous of you, was it not?”

John felt sheepish. “Picked it up when she agreed to meet with me at the prince’s fete. Had every intention of talking her into a whirlwind courtship. Damned silly of me, eh?”

“Not at all. Dashed romantic, in fact. As was rushing to her rescue. Knight in shining armor sort of thing. John, old chap, you could not choose a more advantageous time to ask for her hand. Let me tell you what I have in mind …”

Althea spent the rest of the day moping around her private quarters. The day before, when John had departed without claiming her, she had harbored the faint hope that perhaps he was waiting for a more appropriate time to do so. Today, it had seemed to her that his attitude toward her had been cold and impersonal.

Why, he scarcely spoke to me. But who can blame him? I am so puffed up with foolish pride.

When Lizzie came in to help her dress for dinner she waved her away, opting to eat a light supper in her room while waiting for the water to be heated for her bath.

After Lizzie helped her into the bath, Althea dismissed her, saying she would call when she needed her help. As she soaked in the warm water, her mind quieted and a delicious languor, which she finally recognized as a longing to be held and kissed by John, seeped over her body.

When you rescued me yesterday, why, oh, why did you not hold me close and refuse to let me go until I promised to marry you? Am I so dreadful—or is love so fickle? Perhaps you never really loved me.

No longer wishing to dwell on the matter, Althea called for Lizzie. She quietly submitted to having her hair washed, then stood up while Lizzie rinsed her off with fresh water.

Once Althea was toweled dry, Lizzie selected a nightgown of a fine cotton weave for her, but Althea shook her head. “No, Lizzie, tonight I shall wear the silk with all the lace.”

“But that was meant for your trousseau.”

Althea gave her a wry smile. “In the meantime, no one is banging on the door begging for my hand in marriage. It is liable to rot in the chest first. Besides, it can be replaced, you know.”

“I suppose so. If you don’t mind me saying, you
are
in a strange mood this evening. There’s a full moon out. Perhaps that’s why.”

“Perhaps.”

Lizzie brushed Althea’s hair until it crackled, then went to put a lace cap on her head. Althea refused it.

“It is too warm for that.”

“Very well,” Lizzie huffed. “Don’t blame me when all your lovely hair breaks off.”

Before their conversation could deteriorate further, Celeste walked in. She also was bathed and ready for bed.

“Finished, Lizzie? Good. Go along with you, my dear, I wish to share the beautiful moon with my little girl.”

Once Lizzie left, mother and daughter stood in front of the window and stared outside. The moonlight gave the garden a magical, otherworldly look.

“It is so good to be standing here with you, Mama. For a while there yesterday, I truly thought I would never see the moonlight again.”

Celeste squeezed her hand and did not let go. “I had similar thoughts. Every time I think of that ogre, Reston, I shudder. I am not in the least bit sorry that he is dead.”

“Neither am I. The brute absolutely terrified me.”

“And yet when you stood up to him you seemed absolutely fearless.”

“I knew that he would do with me as he wished regardless of how I behaved, so I was bound and determined not to let him see me grovel.”

“You are truly a great lady in every sense of the word, my daughter.”

Althea smiled. “I must take after you. If you had not kicked that Joubert creature on his derriere, I fear that the outcome might have been different.”

“No, the credit for saving us has to go to Uncle Jean-Claude. Who would have thought that he could be so selfless?”

“I think, Mama, that it was a case of your actions reminding him of what is expected of a gentleman. He had just forgotten for a while.”

“I suppose I resent the fact that he took his time doing it. I would rather you had been spared that terrible ordeal.”

“He is old. He did what he could. My greatest fear was that I had lost my chance to be a wife and mother.”

Celeste squeezed her shoulder. “Of course it would be, darling. It is only natural.”

Althea leaned into her mother. “Mama, if I cannot marry John, I do not wish to be married at all.”

“I am sure that with a little encouragement on your part he will come around. I caught him looking at you once or twice this morning. He is absolutely besotted with you.”

“I should hardly think so.”

Celeste nudged Althea’s arm. “Think again, my doubting Thomasina. Look over there and tell me what you see.”

“Where?”

“By the river, of course.”

“A lantern. I see it. Smugglers, do you think?”

“One of your Corsair pirates, no doubt. No, my little pea-goose, only one man I know waves a lantern in that particular fashion.”

“John! It has to be.” Althea wrinkled her brow. “What do you suppose he wants?”

Celeste laughed. “Not
what.
Who
. John has come for you!”

“But it will take ages for me to get dressed—then there is my hair. By the time I reach the river he will be long gone.”

“Nonsense. I can twist your hair and secure it with some combs. Then all you have to do is cover your nightrail with a cloak, accept his offer of marriage, seal the bargain with a lovely kiss, pop back to the house, and he will be none the wiser. He can return tomorrow to iron out the wedding arrangements.”

“You are making my head spin.”

True to her promise, with a few deft movements, Celeste fixed Althea’s hair and handed her a looking glass. “See?” she said. “I told you I could do it”

“Yes, you did. It looks deceptively fine.”

She went to her wardrobe and took out a dark blue cloak. Celeste followed her and replaced it with a rose-colored one.

“Yes,” she said, sounding well pleased with herself. “It looks perfect and so do you, my little cabbage. Now run along—no, wait.”

She dashed into Althea’s dressing room. Althea heard the clink of glass being moved around and surmised that her mother was fumbling in the dark, looking for something on her dressing table. A moment or two later she emerged, triumphantly waving a bottle of perfume.