Unmasked (26 page)

Never trust a man, never love a man, never give him that power….

For a moment she trembled on the edge of terror.

“Mari?” Nick was looking at her with concern in his eyes.

“I am sorry,” she whispered. She made an effort. “I feel a little better, thank you. I am sorry that I reacted so badly when I saw the hunt. It was so sudden and it reminded me…”

“It would have been strange had you not reacted like that given what you had experienced,” Nick said. He stood up and moved a little distance away from her. His voice was hard and there was something in his eyes that scared Mari, it was so primitive and angry. Then she saw him make an effort to smooth the expression away.

“I have something for you,” he said. He ran a hand over his hair. “I had intended to give it to you when we got back here. You know that I was Rashleigh’s heir?” He made an abrupt gesture as though the idea was anathema to him. “His lawyer brought this to me when I was in London last week.” He held out a piece of parchment to her. “I imagine from the things that you have said to me, that you did not know it existed.”

Mari took the paper and unfolded it. She read it once without understanding what it meant and a second time in utter incredulity. Then she read it a third time and started to tremble so much that the paper fell from her hand to the floor.

“No…” she whispered.

“Does it mean what I think?” Nick demanded. “My uncle gave you your freedom before he died—”

“But he never told me.” Mari looked up, her eyes stricken. “Why? Why did he not tell me?”

“Perhaps,” Nick said, “he did not have the chance.”

Mari retrieved the paper and looked at the date beneath the old Earl of Rashleigh’s signature. “The day he died,” she said. Her head felt strange, light and buzzing with the enormity of what she had discovered.

“Rashleigh found this and kept it, didn’t he?” she said. She looked at Nick. Her voice broke. “Why? Why did he never tell me?”

“I do not suppose it suited his purposes for you to know,” Nick said. His tone was hard with contempt. “He was a sickening scoundrel. He kept the document against the day he might want to use it as a bargaining tool.”

Mari rubbed a hand across her forehead. For seven years she had been physically free yet always afraid, always thinking she was a runaway slave. And now it seemed that she had been granted her freedom years before and Rashleigh had stolen that from her, too. The anger swept through her and made her shake with the force of it. It stung her throat until she thought she would choke, and burned so fiercely that she could hardly bear it. She wanted to scream until her voice was hoarse, to break something and wreak around her the same destruction that Rashleigh had inflicted on her life.

“My freedom,” she said. She remembered Laura challenging Charles about buying her from Rashleigh and Charles admitting it. So Rashleigh had cheated him, too, selling her on like a piece of horseflesh when he had no right. The knife of her hatred twisted within her again like poison and she made a conscious effort to let it go. Rashleigh would
not
ruin her future as he had taken her past. She would not allow it.

“All those years, thinking that I was still property, still a man’s possession…” She met Nick’s eyes. “But I
was
a thief. I stole from Rashleigh when I ran away from him. Did you know about that, Major Falconer? I took all his jewels.”

Nick nodded. “I guessed you had. I saw the ledgers with a record of all the jewelry that Rashleigh had brought back from Russia, and I wondered what had happened to it.” His gaze was thoughtful. “Why did you take it?”

“I did not realize that the stones were worth so much,” Mari said. “I knew that I would not survive alone without any money—without selling my body on the streets—and I thought he owed me that at least.” She bit her lip. “When I discovered how much they were worth, I was terrified. I had had no idea. I sold them little by little and when I came here I invested the money.” She looked at him a little hopelessly. “I used some to set up the school and the almshouses and my charities, but the rest is safe. It is yours by right as you are his heir. I can pay it back…” She realized that the brandy had gone straight to her head and she was gabbling. “I am sorry,” she said. “I am no thief by choice but I was alone and afraid and I could not bear to have to sell myself again.”

Once again she saw that look in Nick’s eyes, so angry, so primitive, so violent that she shrank back a little. She knew his anger was not for her but it was frightening to see. Then he made an effort and smiled at her, and she felt her tense muscles relax a little.

“You have used the money to do good,” he said. “Far more than Rashleigh would ever have done.”

Mari sighed. “I should tell you everything, I suppose.”

Nick came to sit by her and took her hand. “You need tell me only what you wish,” he said.

Mari’s hand tightened involuntarily on his. She moistened her lips. “I want to tell you, but—” She shook a little.

“Have some more brandy,” Nick instructed, and she picked up the glass again and swallowed some more of the liquid conscientiously, as though it was medicine.

She stared into his dark eyes and saw nothing but concern there. No judgment, no disapproval, no pity.

“I do want to tell you,” she said again, and realized it was true.

He nodded. “Begin at the beginning,” he said gently.

She did. Once she had started she found it was surprisingly easy, as though she were telling a story that had happened to someone else, long ago. She told him about her childhood and her education and the way that the twelfth Earl had tried to turn her into an English lady. She faltered a little when she came to relating what had happened when Robert Rashleigh had inherited from his father, but Nick’s hand was still warm and steady in hers and although she saw the same primitive anger burning in his eyes, she knew his fury was not directed at her. When she related the terms of her agreement with Rashleigh, though, she found that she could not look at him and as she spoke she felt his hands tighten, cruelly hard around hers. She looked up to see that his whole body was rigid with hatred and repulsion, and felt the misery flood her then. What had she expected? No one could hear a tale such as hers and not be disgusted by it. She knew Nick Falconer was a good man and so no doubt he would not blame her for her capitulation to Rashleigh’s blackmail, but even so he would never be able to see past it to the woman she really was, and she knew that no amount of longing on her part could make that happen.

“I saw the papers.” Nick’s voice was so rough she barely recognized it. He got up, strode away from her. The rain was tumbling down from a leaden sky now. High above the fells, the thunder roared. “I saw the record in the ledgers of the farm Rashleigh bought for your parents. I saw the manumission forms for them.” He looked at her and Mari knew they were both thinking of the terrible price she had paid for that freedom.

“What happened to them?” Nick asked. “What became of your family?”

Mari laughed without mirth. “That is the irony, Major Falconer. They died. They died in a fever epidemic. Very likely if they had stayed in St. Petersburg they would have survived. So it was all for nothing, their freedom, my sacrifice.”

She put her hands up to her face and then let them fall. She wanted to finish this now, have done with it and see him walk away. For surely he would not want to stay when he had heard the whole truth.

“You knew that Rashleigh brought me back with him to England,” she said, “and as soon as he did, I plotted to escape. He kept me locked in my bedroom and had me watched day and night, though, so it was no easy matter. He took away all my clothes. And when we went to the country, he shackled me to his carriage and dragged me along beside it. I still have nightmares about it to this day.”

Nick stirred. He was standing by the window, watching the rain run down the pane like tears. “That was why you were so disturbed that night of the Glory Girls attack,” he said, “when they tied my hands. I wondered…I knew your reaction could not be feigned.”

Mari shook her head. “No, that was no pretence.”

There was a silence before she resumed. “One night when we were in Kent, Rashleigh grew careless and I had my chance at last,” she said. “He was very drunk. He came to my bedchamber alone and it was easy to overpower him. I went to the study and in the safe there I found the jewels he had inherited from his father. I took them and slipped out into the night and hid in the outbuildings. I thought I had killed Rashleigh but when the alarm was raised and I heard his voice, I realized that I had not hit him hard enough.” She looked up and met Nick’s eyes. “A pity. I could have saved us all so much trouble later on.”

Nick smiled faintly but he did not speak and after a moment she resumed. “I had thought of remaining hidden in the stables or the barns until the hue and cry had passed, but I realized it would be too dangerous,” she said. “So I ran away into the fields and concealed myself in a barn that first night…” She shivered, pressing the palms of her hands together. “And then the hunt came.” Briefly she closed her eyes. “They lost my trail. But even now I cannot hear the noise of the hounds without remembering.”

There was a silence but for the growl of thunder retreating now. Mari turned to Nick and spread her hands wide.

“And there you have the truth, Major Falconer. I stole from your cousin and ran away from him. I am a criminal and an impostor and what I have told you now could see me hang, but—” She swallowed hard. “I wanted you to know the truth at last. I am sorry I did not trust you before, but I did not know then what sort of man you were.”

Nick walked across to the mantel and rested his arm along the top. “I understand,” he said. “You lied to me to save yourself from the gallows, but you also lied to protect the Glory Girls, did you not?”

Mari’s gaze flew to his face. “I—” She bit her lip. She never, ever wanted to lie to him again. She had let go of her own secrets but could she trust him with those that involved the others?

Nick came to sit beside her again, close but not touching. “Laura Cole told me,” he said. “I know you never rode with them and I think I understand now why you did it.” Then, when she did not speak, “I swear you can trust me, Mari.” He shook his head slightly. “It is true that I came to Peacock Oak to find you and to see if you had murdered Rashleigh and to discover the connection between him and the Glory Girls, but now that I know, I promise I shall never speak out.”

“Thank you,” Mari said. She felt a huge relief sweep through her that the others were safe.

“I suppose that Laura also told you it was Charles who was the connection between Rashleigh and the Glory Girls,” she said, but then she saw Nick’s eyes widen with shock and hurried on, realizing she had made a mistake. “She did not tell you that? No, of course she would not. She is far too discreet.” She stopped. “He is your friend,” she said. “I am sorry.”

“Charles?” Nick’s tone was incredulous. “Laura said that they had all known Rashleigh, she and Charles and Hester and John Teague—” He broke off. “
Charles
was the one who told Rashleigh about the Glory Girls?”

“Rashleigh was holding the knowledge over my head,” Mari said carefully. “He threatened to expose my past and also to expose the identity of the Glory Girls. Charles had told him one night when they were drunk together.” She looked down at her hands. “And Rashleigh sold me to Charles. Charles was my blackmailer. He was the one writing the notes, the man I mistook you for.”

She saw such fury then in Nick’s face that she drew back instinctively, but he made no move toward her. He got up, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jacket as though to restrain himself from violence.

“Charles…” he said again. “That was how Rashleigh had the Glory Girls’ card. Charles must have given it to him with instructions on where to find you. Rashleigh had it in his hand as he lay dead in the gutter. Poor Laura,” he added flatly. “No wonder she threw him out.”

“Yes,” Mari said. “She has shown me nothing but kindness and generosity.”

“He is a weak man,” Nick said. “I saw him in Town, drinking himself under the table. I never realized why.” He shrugged, then moved over to the sideboard, poured himself a glass of brandy and brought another across to her.

“Tell me the rest,” he said, a little harshly. “Finish this.”

Mari made a slight gesture. “You know almost everything now. After I ran from Rashleigh I created a new identity for myself.”

She had, after a time. To start with she had run anywhere that she had thought Rashleigh would never be able to find her; to the slums of Birmingham and the back streets of Manchester, where she had sold the jewels little by little so as not to attract too much attention to herself. Along the way she had found work as a lady’s maid then as a governess, each time reinventing her identity and moving a little further away from Marina Valstoya.

“I will tell you about that someday,” she said, “but not now.” She hesitated. “It was hard sometimes, but I never had to sell myself or my principles again, or lie and steal and beg.”

Nick’s gaze searched her face and then he nodded. “And Mr. Osborne?” he asked.

“He was an invention, as you guessed previously. When I said that in order to live quietly in the country I needed to appear respectable, I was telling the truth.”

“And after five years Charles accidentally blurted out your whereabouts and Rashleigh found you again.”

Mari nodded. She took another mouthful of the brandy. It was very reviving and she wondered if she was getting a taste for it. She had never cared for it before. “He did. And that is another irony, you see, Major Falconer. I thought I had killed Rashleigh the night I had run from him and, when he found me again, I hated him and feared him enough to kill him. I
would
have killed him that night at the Hen and Vulture if I could, but someone else got there first. Someone killed him before I could.”

“There were enough people who hated Rashleigh, in all conscience,” Nick said. “I did myself.” His voice hardened. “I hate him even more now.”