Simon Bingley's Resolve, page 15
‘And if she has not?’
Albert tried to think rationally. He felt no affection for his wife but cared a great deal about his reputation as a physician. A reputation he intended to continue to strengthen with the help of the profits from the deal he had just negotiated with Molineux. Marianne had no particular interest in marrying again, but with Caroline confined to Bedlam society would feel great sympathy for Albert, who had made sure he’d been seen to do everything in his power to cure his wife’s addled wits over the years. That same society would turn a blind eye to his being seen with his mistress on his arm, given his devotion to Caroline and his despair at his inability to save her. His patience was on the point of being rewarded, and he had more than earned the right to a little joy.
It would do his plans irreparable harm if his wife was found roaming the streets in a state of confusion. Damn it, her dependency upon cannabis should have kept her in a fog of befuddled indifference! That was partly why he had introduced her to the drug. Well, that and the fact that there was nothing wrong with her mind, other than a fierce determination to have her own way.
She had temporarily lost her wits when she was first referred to him, but had quickly recovered, only regressing at any mention of her family, whom she claimed had abandoned her. Talk of Pemberley guaranteed a rant about her ill-usage. Pemberley was a subject he had quickly learned to avoid, unless it suited him to rile her.
‘Perhaps she is dead,’ Marianne said indifferently. ‘And that would resolve all our problems.’
‘Indeed it would.’ But Albert knew that Caroline was tough, a survivor, and he couldn’t be that fortunate. Death, he reasoned, would be kinder than confinement to Bedlam, which was truly a terrible place. The inconvenience of Marianne’s husband and the conscience that prevented him from exploiting his situation in Jamaica had been efficiently dealt with. Perhaps it was time to think along similar lines regarding Caroline.
‘Come here, my love.’ Marianne opened her arms and Albert fell onto the daybed and gathered her to him. ‘Let it be for now. She will either turn up or she will not. I cannot have you scampering off to London; I simply won’t allow it. You would be much better advised to remain here with me and we shall find something to do, I’m absolutely sure of it, to occupy our time.’ She fluttered her lashes at him. ‘Indeed, I shall feel neglected if we do not.’
Albert smiled. Marianne was selfish, knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. It lifted Albert’s spirits to be in her company. He had absolutely no intention of neglecting her or risking the loss of her affections. Quite apart from anything else, they were business partners, and she was at least as ruthless as him in that regard. She had people lined up to sell on the cannabis at a vast profit; something her husband had refused to sanction. His conscientious objections had died along with the man himself, and Marianne became a free spirit, able to do as she pleased. Fortunately, Albert’s attentions pleased her and he had the satisfaction of knowing that she truly loved him.
‘Tell me about Molineux. Did you make a satisfactory arrangement?’ she asked, once Albert had stopped kissing her and allowed her up for air. ‘And more to the point, did he agree to our price?’
‘He did, but he wasn’t happy about it. He’s distracted—on the brink, he hopes, of marrying the Dayton girl.’
‘The pretty one?’
‘No, the other one, I’m told. I’ve not met either of them but that is the impression I got.’
Marianne looked surprised. ‘Good heavens! I remember her. Very outspoken, nothing much to recommend her.’
‘Molineux is smitten.’ He grinned. ‘But I get the impression that the lady isn’t that keen on the union.’
‘Then she’s a fool. The man is richer than Croesus. She will want for nothing.’
‘Young girls dream of falling in love.’
‘Hmm. Well, once the marriage goes ahead, as it undoubtedly will, Molineux’s priorities will change, at least for a while.’ She paused. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if we need him at all.’
Albert was impressed by Marianne’s ruthlessness. ‘The Daytons are at Pemberley for Mrs Darcy’s annual house party. Dayton made quite a thing about having been invited. Anyway, he’s gone there now, presumably to insist upon his daughter accepting Molineux’s proposal. Molineux himself is lingering in Lambton, waiting to be summoned.’
‘Goodness, he is fixated on the girl. The Molineux I knew in Jamaica didn’t change his plans or wait upon anyone else’s pleasure. He was quite a force of nature, and I admired that about him.’ Marianne paused. She had that faraway look in her eye and Albert knew she was plotting something. ‘Your wife’s family will be at Pemberley, which gives you a legitimate excuse to call, since you are in the area.’
‘For what purpose?’ Albert reclined on the daybed and ran his fingers down the length of Marianne’s hip and thigh. ‘I would much prefer to stay here for a few more days and play with you. I am not acquainted with Miss Dayton, and I certainly can’t be seen to interfere in her amatory affairs. It would raise suspicions. Besides, I don’t care who Molineux marries.’ He kissed her soundly. ‘As to cutting Molineux out altogether, I would advise against it, at least for the time being. He’s a powerful man and he knows too much about our affairs to make an enemy out of him. Best keep him on our side, for the time being.’
She pouted. ‘Very well then, we shall.’ She sent him a mischievous smile. ‘For now.’
*
Simon looked for Nadia the moment he entered the drawing room that evening. He was aware that her father had arrived. Indeed, he had been introduced to him earlier and had not been impressed by the man. Perhaps Simon was biased, but he sensed a weak person whose circumstances were not as comfortable as he would have the world think. He wore the harried air of a man wrestling with debts.
He had made it his business to find out that Nadia and her father had been closeted together in the morning room for a protracted period that afternoon. He couldn’t help but wonder what pressure had been brought to bear upon Nadia. He glanced at her profile as she conversed with his cousin Bella and could sense the despondency that her cheerful expression failed to conceal. Simon was filled with a burning desire to be of service to her. The sheer strength of his feelings astonished him. Her personal affairs were none of his concern and he wouldn’t be thanked for interfering, especially since his actions might be misconstrued. Be that as it may, he was absolutely determined to find out why she was being pressured into matrimony with a man she neither liked nor respected.
Something wasn’t right.
One glance at the rigid set to her features as she averted her face from Bella’s scrutiny was sufficient to confirm his suspicions, but he was prevented from reaching her side by the crush of people around him. He cursed beneath his breath when dinner was announced and he was still nowhere near her. His mood was not improved when his aunt Caroline glided up to him and good manners required him to escort the woman to the table.
‘We have not had an opportunity to get to know one another,’ she said as she settled herself on the chair that Simon held out for her and sent him a wide smile. ‘I hope we can rectify that situation now. I am absolutely determined to make up for lost time and become much better acquainted with my only nephew.’
‘Absolutely,’ Simon replied grudgingly.
He glanced across the table at Nadia, who had been escorted in by Simon’s cousin Arthur and was laughing at something he said to her. But that laughter didn’t reach her eyes and her distraction was self-evident. She looked directly at Simon, and once again he sensed her despondency. He would seek her out after dinner and make her confide in him.
Simon felt a deep connection to Nadia that hadn’t been apparent in his many other fixations during his younger and more irresponsible years. Nadia, he sensed, was being bullied into an unsuitable marriage to atone for…well, something. Regardless of the speculations it would create if his interference came to light, Simon was determined that she would not sacrifice herself on the altar of her father’s ambition. Spence would tell him that his heart was ruling his head yet again, but Simon disagreed. He admired Nadia and felt the aforementioned affinity with her, but he was not in love.
Well, probably not, but he so easily could be.
He had reached the age where he had become more discerning, more conscious of his own prospects and less inclined to rush headlong into something based on infatuation alone. The fact that predatory females were out to trap him at every turn had been brought home to him, but Nadia’s problems were not an elaborate ruse to attract his interest. Quite the reverse, as evidenced by the fact that she had made no effort whatsoever to inveigle her way into his affections.
She was compassionate, intelligent, forthright and outspoken. He admired her tremendously and felt a burning need to be of service to her. Beyond that, he wasn’t prepared to speculate.
Mrs Rochdale seemed determined to engage Simon’s full attention, and politeness required him to pay some attention to what she had to say during the course of dinner. She seemed very interested in Pemberley and all members of the Darcy family, asking him endless questions about their activities.
She seemed a little vague. Her pupils were dilated, she repeated herself without seeming to realise it and sometimes slurred her words. Simon cast a helpless look at his father, who simply lifted one shoulder. Thinking about her behaviour when she had last been here, he was surprised by her sheer effrontery in showing her face again and felt uncomfortable as he wondered what she expected to gain by coming. Her intentions, he sensed, were vindictive.
The meal finally came to an end and the ladies withdrew. Simon waited patiently for his uncle to tire of the port and was the first to leave the dining room when Darcy eventually suggested that they rejoin the ladies. The doors to the terrace were still wide open, it being a fine summer’s evening, and several of the ladies were strolling outside. A quick sweep of the drawing room showed no evidence of Nadia in occupation of it, but neither could he see her russet curls anywhere on the terrace.
He wandered further into the grounds and found her alone, talking to herself, which appeared to be a rather endearing habit of hers, as she sat on a bench beneath an arbour in the rose garden. The intoxicating scent of dozens of varieties in full bloom assailed Simon’s nostrils as he paused to take stock of the female who now occupied so many of his thoughts. Dressed in a gown of yellow silk sparingly edged with cream lace and with her hair dressed in a simple fashion, she looked both delicate and furious.
Simon walked up to her and sat down without being invited. He feared that if he asked permission she might well refuse it, such was her preoccupation.
‘How are you?’ he asked, taking her hand and keeping hold of it. ‘Stupid question. I could tell at dinner that you were very unhappy, that is not to say angry. How can I help?’
‘You cannot. No one can.’ She paused to utter an expansive sigh. ‘Papa has sold me to Molineux.’
‘Sold you?’ Simon thought he must have misheard her. ‘How could he do that?’
‘Very easily, it appears.’ She let out a long breath. ‘You might as well know the shocking truth, since I have already shared so much else with you.’
‘If you are ready to confide in me, then I am more than ready to listen.’ He kept hold of her hand and gave her fingers an encouraging squeeze. ‘I might even be able to suggest a solution to your woes.’
‘That I very much doubt. My father has overreached himself, it seems, and has fallen into debt. That’s why he sold our plantation so quickly. It wasn’t only to do with the unstable conditions now prevailing in Jamaica. Liberated slaves don’t always behave well when they are released from their shackles, but one cannot altogether blame them for that. They have never had to think for themselves before. That sounds terribly patronising, but is true for all that. Anyway, the more hot-headed amongst their number took on leadership roles and encouraged retribution.’
‘And you sympathise with their position?’
‘Any fair-minded person would.’
Simon nodded. ‘You were explaining about your father’s shortage of blunt.’
‘So I was.’ She settled herself into a more comfortable position, plucked absently at a rose and inhaled its perfume, then continued to speak. ‘As I say, I assumed that he feared for our safety and didn’t question his desire to leave so precipitously. I was very keen to return to England and leave the horrors of Jamaica behind me, especially because…well, because I had done something shameful.’ She looked away from him. ‘I have never told anyone, and if I confide in you the chances are that you will lose all respect for me.’
‘Impossible.’ He raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of hers. ‘Just tell me. I am sure it can’t be so very bad. I am very discreet and you have my word that I won’t repeat what you tell me.’
She looked away from him and Simon sensed her turmoil, but he didn’t continue attempting to persuade her. He knew that she needed to speak about it, but it would be ungentlemanly to force the issue.
‘Cruelty towards the slaves was one of the many things that I despised. The plantation overseers seemed to enjoy their positions of power and the right to inflict harsh punishments arbitrarily.’ He could see the anger of recollection swirling in her eyes as she turned to give him her full attention. ‘Molineux owned the plantation adjoining ours and we couldn’t avoid his society. His overseer was one of the worst offenders when it came to dishing out harsh punishments on the flimsiest of pretexts. He was a huge man who was never seen without a bullwhip in his hand. I came across him one day, laying that whip into a female slave who’d fallen down from exhaustion because she was pregnant and near her time.’
‘The brute!’ Simon exclaimed.
‘My thoughts exactly.’ She shook her head. ‘Something snapped inside me when I saw what he had done. He hadn’t seen me so I went up behind him, grabbed the whip from his hand and tried to turn it on him. Of course, he was much stronger than me and grabbed it back again, but he didn’t dare to use it on me. I pushed him hard and told him precisely what I thought of him. I mean, striking a pregnant woman, how low can one get? He told me to mind my own business and that his master would hear of my interference. The slaves had gathered round and I sensed the mood growing ugly, which is hardly to be wondered at. They all hated that overseer for his cruelty—’
‘Molineux had not freed his slaves?’
‘Oh good heavens no.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘It was not compulsory, and he accused those who did so of being soft. He insisted that the slaves were better off in servitude, where they were cared for and didn’t have to think for themselves.’
‘And this is the man your father would have you marry,’ Simon said softly.
‘Quite. Perhaps now you begin to understand why I am so reluctant. Not that his attitude was anything out of the ordinary. Those who freed their slaves felt pressured into doing so. It certainly wasn’t a voluntary act.’
‘What happened with the overseer?’
‘The slaves took matters into their own hands before I could prevent them. They fell on him and he was kicked and trampled to death.’ She closed her eyes for an expressive moment, no doubt reliving the awful scene in her mind. ‘My father and Molineux were alerted by the commotion and I took responsibility for the man’s death. After all, it was my fault. But it was obvious how he had died, and clear that I couldn’t possibly have done it, so we were left on the horns of a dilemma.’
‘A white man had been murdered and someone had to answer for the crime.’
‘Precisely. I was perfectly ready to tell the authorities what he had been doing. Slaves receiving lashes was customary, and apparently acceptable. But not a heavily pregnant woman. Molineux said that the slaves had killed him and they would have to accept the consequences—which of course meant that their ringleaders would be hanged—but I stood my ground and said I was not going to let that happen. I would own up. Needless to say, Molineux and Papa would have none of it and managed to pass the death off as an accident.’ She looked up at him and sighed. ‘But at least the slaves were not accused, although how they were treated after that I dread to think.’
‘I cannot begin to imagine why you assumed the truth would make me think any less of you,’ he said softly. ‘I am full of admiration for your courage and your willingness to stand up for those who were incapable of protecting themselves.’ He still held her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘In fact I have seldom been more impressed.’
She gave an elongated sigh. ‘Thank you. I haven’t spoken about it before to anyone. Papa was furious. I have never seen him half so angry, and he made me feel as though it was my fault that we had to return to England, obliging him to sell his plantation so cheaply. I have been riddled with guilt, only to discover today that I have been deceived.’
‘No one can prove what happened in Jamaica now. It sounds to me as if that overseer got what he deserved, and there will be no interest in reopening the enquiry if Molineux is forcing you to marry him by threatening to do so. The situation in Jamaica is volatile and no one will want to make trouble. You are perfectly safe, although I suppose your conscience troubles you.’
‘Actually, no.’ She smiled at him. ‘Given my time over, I can honestly say that I wouldn’t have done anything differently.’
‘Well, there you are then.’
‘I had reached the same conclusion myself, and decided there was nothing Molineux could do to force me to marry him.’ She paused. ‘Then Papa told me about his indebtedness to him, which changes everything.’
