Lovers Forever, page 24
The sound of the rain beating on the roof caught her attention, and it was fitting weather for her doleful mood. Lying there, listening to the steady fall of raindrops, Tess made several difficult decisions.
Despite her first inclination not to, she was going to have to tell Nicolas the truth. He had to be told—not tonight, but first thing in the morning. And while dreading it, she was going to have to return to Mandeville Manor. She had tried to run away from her problems once, and look where that had gotten her!
Avery’s unwelcome suit was the least of her troubles at this point, and he certainly wasn’t going to be interested in continuing his pursuit of her once he knew the truth. At least, she thought wryly, I’ll have the satisfaction of watching his face when he learns how thoroughly I have put myself beyond the pale. Not even for my fortune would he be willing to marry me now! As for the aunts ... Surely now they would agree to her plan for the three of them to set up their own household. Her mouth twisted. Avery definitely wasn’t going to let her live at Mandeville Manor again!
For a little while she comforted herself with the picture of the life she and her aunts would live. On the surface nothing would change, except they would have their own residence and servants and there would be no male to gainsay their wishes. She doubted that beyond the few people who had to know, no one else would ever learn of the scandal that had brought about her near reclusive state. Oh, there was bound to be some speculation and gossip when she retired from society and lived the life of a hermit with her aunts, but it would soon pass. Nicolas certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone. And Avery, while he might have liked to see her humbled, would not want any hint of scandal near him—it would ruin his chances with the next heiress he went scrambling after. Embarrassing questions as to why Tess had fled his home and protection might be raised. He definitely wouldn’t like that!
Thunder rumbled suddenly overhead, and Tess jumped. The beat of the rain increased, and she realized that she had been wise to abandon any idea of leaving immediately. Somehow she would get though this night, and in the morning, after she had told him the truth, Nicolas no doubt would be delighted to send her swiftly on her way!
The ache in her heart was more powerful than any pain she had ever felt before in her life. Tess lay on her side, watching the slowly dying coals of the fire. She loved Nicolas Talmage! That fact was irrefutable, and it explained so much, especially the ease with which she had allowed herself to be seduced by his dark charm. Even that first night ... had she fallen in love with him that quickly?
It was frightening to think that she had taken one look at his chiseled features, stared only once into those wicked black eyes, and fallen headlong in love with him. But that’s what happened, she thought painfully. She had taken just one look and she had been instantly drawn to him, instantly aware of him in a way she had been with no other man. The knowledge was bitter and fraught with anguish.
With any other man, despite the deplorable circumstances of their first meeting and its aftermath, there would have been a chance that she could find a happy ending, but not with the earl of Sherbourne. Not a Mandeville with a Talmage. Even if they had met under more conventional terms, any hope of a future between them would have been slight and highly unlikely. There was too wide a rift between the families, a rift that had been going on since his grandfather had run away with her great-grandmother....
The diary! It had to have been Benedict Talmage’s. And the woman he wrote of so passionately had to have been her great-grandmother Theresa. She sighed. It didn’t change anything. Nothing could, not even her love for Benedict’s grandson.
She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting against the tears. She swallowed with difficulty, and the pain in her throat recalled unpleasantly the attack on her life. Tess was almost grateful for the reminder. It gave her miserable thoughts a different subject to worry about. Woefully she admitted to herself that she found it far easier to think about her near murder than to dwell on the dreary, endless days without Nicholas that stretched before her.
Why had someone tried to kill her? She frowned. The fact that someone had tried to murder her was nearly incomprehensible. She had no enemies. Except, perhaps ... Could her attacker have been Avery? It didn’t seem likely. He wanted to marry her, not murder her! Besides, she and Nicolas had seen him driving toward London on Thursday.... Had he caught a glimpse of her and followed them surreptitiously? Her heart beat very fast. Having snooped around and discovered how thoroughly she had ruined herself, had Avery decided simply to murder her in a mad attempt to hide her shame? She snorted. Her shame wouldn’t have bothered Avery; it was her fortune he wanted! Had he concocted some wild scheme to get his hands on her money if she were dead? Her nose wrinkled. That didn’t seem very plausible. The money came from her mother’s side of the family. If she died, the documents were already in place for the bulk of it to go to her Mandeville aunts and her Rockwell uncles. Marriage to her was the only way Avery would ever get his hands on even one penny.
She frowned again. It couldn’t have been Avery. But if not Avery ... then who? And why? She bolted upright in her bed as an answer flashed across her mind. The smugglers! Of course! Why hadn’t she considered them earlier? It made perfect sense. They had used the gatekeeper’s cottage probably for years, and to discover that it was now occupied would have displeased them immensely. It was logical to believe that they would have taken steps to make life extremely unhealthy for the current occupants!
Convinced that she was on the right track, she lay back down and considered her premise from all angles, glad that she had something to take her mind off the ache in her heart and to help pass the time as she waited for Nicolas’s reappearance. He had said that he would return late tonight, with his guests....
An awful suspicion suddenly occurred to her. His older, maiden-lady guests. No. It couldn’t be! It was impossible. He wouldn’t have lifted a finger to help her aunts. How could he even have learned of their plight? A horrible connection was made instantly in her mind. Her uncles, she recalled uneasily, in spite of the coolness between the Mandevilles and Talmages, were very good friends with the Talmage family. One might even say close friends....
Tess jerked upright in bed. Her uncles had planned to arrive today! Yesterday, now. Suppose something had happened that had alarmed them? News of her disappearance?
Oh, dear! Tess thought remorsefully. She hadn’t even considered how her aunts must have felt when no word of her safe arrival in London had reached them. Her conscience pricked her. By now, she realized, they must be frantic!
Still, that didn’t mean they would be Nicolas’s mysterious guests, she reminded herself. But suppose her uncles had arrived at Mandeville Manor and found a situation that greatly disturbed them. Would they, knowing of the hostility between the two families, have gone to Nick for help? She couldn’t imagine it. Even less could she imagine any situation that would cause the earl of Sherbourne to assist her aunts or, more important, bring them here. The entire premise was ridiculous! His guests couldn’t possibly be her aunts! Yet the appalling suspicion would not go away. She would, she realized with a sinking feeling, simply have to wait and see what unfolded. It wasn’t a comforting prospect.
Time passed. Sleep was unthinkable, and Tess tossed and turned. The hour was very late. Nicolas should have been here by now. Where was he?
At that precise moment, Nicolas was standing in the pouring rain, helping two frightened and distraught women into the small closed carriage that he had driven over and hidden in the thick woods near Mandeville Manor. In spite of the wretched weather, the Rockwell brothers had ridden their own horses to give the rescuers more maneuverability if it had been necessary. It hadn’t been.
The lightning raid on Mandeville Manor had gone swiftly and smoothly. They had breached the outer perimeter of the estate without incident. A quick, efficient reconnoiter of the house had revealed an unlocked pair of French doors at the rear of the house. The rain and rumblings of the storm had covered any sounds they had made as they had stealthily entered the manor.
The three men had swiftly ascertained that the only occupants awake and likely to cause them trouble were Avery’s two servants, the ubiquitous Lowell and the valet, Coleman. Seeing the two of them snoring drunk in the kitchen at Mandeville Manor, Nick recognized them immediately, and their presence made him all the more convinced that even if they were hated Mandevilles, the ladies definitely needed rescuing. Lowell and Coleman had been with Avery on the peninsula, and a pair more prone to rape and cruel violence would have been hard to find. They certainly weren’t the type of men he would have introduced into his household! Convinced by their condition that Avery’s henchmen would cause them no trouble, the trio had departed from the nether regions of the house and had quickly ascended to the upper rooms. It was only when they had reached the floor occupied by the bedchambers of the family that Rockwell had hesitated.
“What is it?” Nick had demanded in a low tone.
They had carried a small candelabra with them to pierce the complete darkness, and in the soft flickering light, Nicolas saw the indecision on the baron’s face. “What is it?” he asked again.
Tom grimaced. “Thing is, I don’t know exactly which room is Tess’s or where the aunts sleep.” He brightened. “Know I’m on the right floor.”
Nick groaned, not liking the idea of searching through a dozen bedrooms. “I thought,” he growled, “that you were familiar with the damned place!”
The baron looked shocked. “Not the ladies’ bedchambers!”
Suppressing an urge to throttle his friend, Nicolas said grimly, “Very well, then, we’ll have to split up and check every room on this floor.”
A quick glance revealed several wall sconces. Nick grabbed the candles from a pair of them, lit them, and thrust them into the hands of his cohorts. “Be quiet, for God’s sake, and if you find them, don’t alarm the ladies—particularly, don’t let them scream!”
As luck would have it, they didn’t have to search far. The second door Nick tried he found locked. Certain the storm would cover him, with one powerful movement, he kicked open the door. Entering the room, he found two very frightened ladies huddled together in a large, silk-hung bed. Placing his fingers to his lips, he said softly, “Please, not a sound. I mean you no harm. Lord Rockwell and his brother are with me, and they are greatly concerned for your safety.”
The younger of the two, her big violet eyes fixed painfully on his face, let out a shaky breath. “Oh, thank God! Thank God! Tess reached London. We have been worried sick.”
A frown darkened Nicolas’s brow. The niece, Tess, had reached London? It was the first he’d heard of it. Motioning the ladies to remain where they were, he hurriedly found the two men.
Hustling them down the hallway toward the room where he had discovered the women, Nicolas said, “I think, gentlemen, that we have another problem. Come along and see for yourselves.”
The ladies had left the bed and had put on their wrappers by the time the three men returned. At the sight of the younger of the two women, Alexander, his handsome face full of relief, thrust his candle into the baron’s hand and then strode swiftly toward her. Heedless of the others, he swept her into his arms and crushed her to him. His mouth buried in her tousled fair hair, he had exclaimed, “Oh, Hetty, my little love! Don’t ever terrify me like this again! I have been most anxious about you! When we were denied entrance to the house today, I just knew that something was dangerously amiss. You’re not hurt?”
Even in the faint candlelight, the blush on Hetty’s pretty face was obvious. “Alexander! I knew you would come! And you were right to be worried—Avery has made us virtual prisoners in our own home. He has gone to London and left that monstrous Lowell and that unspeakably nasty valet of his in charge of the entire household. It has been utterly ghastly! We have been confined to this room since Wednesday. Not even our maids have been allowed to serve us. I have never been so furious or frightened in my life!”
Nicolas had watched the scene between the pair of them with interest. Sits the wind that direction, hmm? he mused. Then, jerking his thoughts away from further speculation about the state of Alexander’s heart, he asked quietly, “You said earlier that ‘Tess had reached London.’ What did you mean?”
Alarm shone in Hetty’s eyes. She gazed up at Alexander. “Tess didn’t find you? She didn’t send you?”
Alexander’s chiseled jaw dropped. “She isn’t with you? Tess ain’t here at Mandeville?”
It was the older of the two ladies who spoke. “Oh, dear! I knew it was dangerous for her to try to reach you in London by herself, but we had no choice. Avery would have dishonored her without compunction. She had to leave.” Her gentle blue eyes filled with tears. “We were so certain she would make it to you. She is such a valiant child.” A look of horror crossed her face. “You don’t suppose that she has fallen into Avery’s clutches? That he has her hidden away somewhere and is even now forcing her to submit to his beastly demands?”
“What the devil are you talking about? We never saw Tess in London! We thought she was with you!” Baron Rockwell blurted out, anxiety sharpening his handsome face.
There was a shattering silence, and then Nicolas spoke, his features grim. “I think it’s obvious that Tess did not reach London. Something must have happened to her on her journey, but we dare not tarry here discussing it. We must be off before we are discovered.” He sent the two women a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her. Safe and sound. There is no doubt a simple explanation for her delay in reaching London, but for now, getting the pair of you out of here is our first priority. Gather up a minimum of your clothing and let us be off before Lowell or Coleman come looking for us.”
The two women obeyed hastily, and in a scant few minutes the five of them were creeping down the wide hallways of Mandeville Manor. Huddled in their hastily donned cloaks, pillowcases of haphazardly selected clothing clutched to their bosoms, Hetty and Meg were ushered swiftly from the house and to the carriage. Seconds later they were safely inside the coach, and with Nicolas driving and Thomas and Alexander acting as outriders, the ladies were borne away. The rescue was complete.
Nicolas should have felt a degree of satisfaction, but he was aware of a feeling of deep, deep unease. The fact that the blasted niece was missing disturbed him immensely, but even more than the disappearance of a young lady he had never met before was the unsettling feeling that he had stepped off into a dark, fathomless chasm.... Something was nagging at the back of his mind, some fact that he had overlooked. Frowning, he drove his horses as fast as he dared in the slashing rain, their way through the enveloping blackness lit only by the lanterns held by the Rockwells, who rode just ahead of the coach.
It was an unpleasant journey. The rain showed no sign of letting up, and by the time they finally reached the gatekeeper’s cottage, Nicolas could only sigh with relief. He had left arrangements for his late arrival, and as he pulled the horses of the coach to a stop in front of the cottage, soft, welcoming light spilled out from one of the windows of the main salon.
Moments later the five of them were inside the cottage. The warmth of the main room was greeted with pleasure. The large silver candelabra that had been left lit near the window increased the feeling of welcome, as its golden light chased out the shadows. A banked fire glowed on the hearth; additional firewood was stacked within easy reach; and nearby on a table was a tray filled with refreshments—brandy and spicy mulled wine kept warm by a heated brick and sandwiches thick with ham and cheese.
Decorum had been left behind long ago, and almost as one, the entire party tossed aside their cloaks and coats. The fire was stirred into full blaze as Nicolas threw on some of the extra wood. More candles were lit about the room, and the ladies were guided into the chairs nearest the flames, goblets of the warm, mulled wine pressed into their hands. Brandy was poured for the gentlemen. Silence reigned as everyone took a deep, fortifying sip of their various libations.
As the brandy burned down his throat, Nicolas looked at the two guests, women who until this night had been despised unknowns to him. They were still in their nightgowns and wrappers, their hair in disarray, shock and strain obvious in their faces, but he found nothing incongruous about the sight of them sitting in his gatekeeper’s cottage.
Feeling his brooding gaze upon her, Hetty looked across to where he stood near the fire, one arm resting on the carved wooden mantel. With a tremulous smile on her lovely mouth, she said softly, “I don’t know who you are, but from the bottom of our hearts we thank you for helping the baron and his brother rescue us.”
Nick smiled wryly. “You might not, once you know my name.”
Meg gave a soft gasp. “I thought that I recognized you! I knew your father, but I could not believe a Talmage would ever help a Mandeville.”
“Not to disillusion you, madame, but I think,” Nick commented lightly, “that it can be said more correctly that I merely assisted the Baron Rockwell and his brother with their rescue of two charming ladies desperately in need of succor.”
“Oh, I say! It wasn’t like that at all, old fellow,” Lord Rockwell expostulated. “Couldn’t have done it without you. Your plan. Your coach. Your house. Everyone knows the Rockwells ain’t got any brains! And that the man to have on your side in any tricky spot is Nick Talmage.” He beamed at the two ladies. “Nick’s got brains!”
Her eyes fixed intently on Nicolas’s dark face, Hetty asked slowly, “Is he right? Are you Nicolas Talmage ...” She faltered and then ended in a rush, “The earl of Sherbourne?”
Nicolas bowed in her direction. “At your service, madame.”
“Oh, my,” Hetty said weakly. “Isn’t Avery going to be absolutely furious!”
Nick’s mouth thinned. “For that reason alone, it gives me great pleasure to have taken part in your rescue, Madame ... ?”
“Miss,” Hetty said quickly. “Miss Hester Mandeville, but all my friends call me ‘Hetty,.’ ” Gallantly dropping a kiss on her outstretched hand, he asked in a teasing tone, “And am I to be considered a ‘friend’?”
