Macbeth's Niece

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tessa awoke the next morning with a strange feeling. After days of travel and the constant companionship of Banaugh, she was alone.

  She dressed quickly, for the room was bitterly cold. Another winter was on its way. Getting dressed wasn’t much of an effort these days, for she had only one simple gown she’d carried rolled up in her blanket from Scotland. It needed repair, and her poor sewing skills were going to have to do, for she had no cheerful Cecilia to guide her.

  Tessa had a moment of intense longing for the days at Brixton before Eleanor’s death. They had all been so happy then, and it had seemed like home to her. Life did not stay the same, however. It changed without regard for happy times or sad ones, and that was probably good. With a sigh, she went downstairs and found the landlord’s daughter.

  “Might I have a needle and some thread?” she asked the girl of thirteen or so.

  “What for?” the girl asked dully.

  “I must mend my dress.” The girl stood looking blankly at Tessa, and she indicated a large tear near the hem of the gown. “Here. I would like to mend it so it does not get worse.”

  The girl looked sullen. “I s’pose. When I get time.”

  “I will be very grateful.” The girl waited to be offered something for the favor, but Tessa had nothing to spare for such a little thing as the loan of a needle and a yard of thread. She returned to her room.

  The girl’s discourtesy reminded Tessa she was nobody. With no money, no family, and no power, she could expect this sort of treatment the rest of her life. Aidan had not been wrong in insisting he was her best hope for a comfortable life, but she had rejected his offer. She was not sorry either, for she could return only affection for his love and would rather have nothing.

  As she combed her hair she let herself think of the events she’d experienced, especially those concerning Jeffrey Brixton. What was he to her? It didn’t matter. He might be dead at the hand of Ian Hawick if the outlaw or his men had caught up with him.

  The thought bothered her more than it should. After all, he’d never said anything to indicate he cared for her. He’d made love to at least two beautiful women. How many more had there been? He claimed he’d forgotten Eleanor and had never loved Mairie, but what girl didn’t know that men were apt to lie to the woman they gazed upon at the moment? She of all people knew Jeffrey was a natural actor. He had played a part at Macbeth’s the first night she met him, and he had played the brainless fool at Hawick’s for months. What was to prevent him from playing the lover if it gained him what he desired at the moment?

  She wondered also where Ian Hawick was and whether he still meant her ill. If Mairie came to England, Hawick would soon follow. It was essential that Tessa avoid him, but London was a large enough city she hoped it would be possible. She had no social circle now. She was shut out from the Brixtons, who had introduced her to society, as long as Sir William had anything to say about matters.

  There was a light knock at her door, and she opened it to find the landlord’s slovenly daughter. “There’s a gentleman to see you,” she said, her face plainly indicating what she thought of women who received male guests. “Shall I send him up?”

  “Certainly not.” Tessa frowned. “I will come down.” Her curiosity was piqued. A gentleman? Had Hawick found her? She peered round the corner of the stair and breathed a sigh of relief and joy. The man who stood waiting was dressed in a new suit, much finer than anything she’d seen him wear before. “Aidan!”

  Aidan opened his arms, taking Tessa into them with great warmth. “Tessa! Tessa, my wandering Scot! We were so worried about you.”

  “With some cause, I must say,” she answered, able to laugh at it now. “Still, I am returned with no harm done.”

  “Let me look at you.” Aidan stepped back and examined her. “A bit thinner, quite browned by the sun, but still beautiful.” His admiration made her glad she’d taken the time to plait her hair neatly.

  “How did you find me?” But she knew the answer before she’d finished the question, so they both said “Mary” at the same time, which made them laugh.

  “I went to visit her as soon as I got to London yesterday, to tell her of William’s death,” Aidan said soberly. “She had gone home to Oxford, but she left word with a servant that an invitation must be sent to Tessa at the Thyme and Mace to visit on Thursday next. It didn’t take me long to conclude it must be you. I sent the news of William’s death with the servant and came here myself.”

  Tessa wasn’t hypocritical enough to express sorrow at the death of a man who’d hated the sight of her, so she tempered her sympathy. “I’m sorry you must deal with another death, Aidan. It seems Eleanor was with us just yesterday, yet I’ve missed her over these long months.”

  “I too,” Aidan agreed. “William, I think, loved her more than he could admit. He became listless after her death and drank more than was good for him.” He sniffed ironically. “After all his lectures to me.! His health declined rapidly, and soon he moved home to York, where Auntie cared for him with all kindness.”

  “She is a good woman, Auntie Madeline.”

  “My brother died six days ago,” Aidan finished. “At the end he was quite changed, less concerned with outward show. He requested a small funeral, so we buried him quietly next to Eleanor. I am here in London now to take up the business of the Brixton estate. Imagine my joy to find that you are here also. Perhaps I can convince you to consider again my earlier proposal.”

  Tessa was surprised at his broaching the subject so soon. “Your proposal? But surely you know—I mean, have you forgotten Cedric?”

  “I’ll wager we needn’t worry on that account. William and Cedric put their heads together after you disappeared. They decided it was best not to let the truth of the matter be known outside the family, mostly because it made them both look ridiculous to have been fooled by a ‘Scottish seductress,’ if you’ll forgive me for quoting my brother.” Here he did a fair imitation of William’s pompous manner to soften his words. “They announced that grief for the death of Eleanor had made you ill, and you returned to your family to recover.”

  “A fine lie.” How like William, and Cedric too.

  “I’m sure Cedric will agree to a quiet annulment now the gossip has died down. With two fortunes between us, he and I will accomplish it with discretion and speed, and you will be free.”

  Tessa felt relief flow through her. She’d dreaded meeting Cedric here in London, but now it seemed Aidan was taking charge of the whole matter. Then his reference to two fortunes penetrated her consciousness. Aidan had paused for a moment, but words burst from him impetuously. “It never mattered to me that you weren’t Eleanor’s sister, and I know you married Cedric out of desperation. I love you, Tessa, for courage, liveliness, and beauty. When we are married, you’ll be my proudest possession.”

  Tessa stiffened at the word. Possession? She recalled what had Eleanor said of Sir William: he had wanted her only to show off to other men, to make them jealous. Was that all a woman was to her husband? Once she had convinced herself it would be enough, but now she felt differently. Eleanor had been correct that a woman might be herself with two types of men, but Tessa could only be happy with one: a man who loved what she was, not the way she looked or the name she bore.

  Aidan realized from her expression that something was wrong. His face showed concern, and for the first time she wondered what kind of man he really was. Handsome, charming and intelligent, to be sure, and he had served William loyally. She could not help but wonder, though, if he shared William’s lack of feeling for others. Now that William, the man who had controlled him all his life, was gone, what real Aidan would emerge?

  “I will be no man’s possession,” she said softly.

  Aidan saw his error immediately. “Of course, my dearest. I meant nothing by it, only that now I can give you what you want. Do you realize I am heir to the Brixton holdings? Ethelbert has renounced the title, and I am the su
rviving son. Now I can offer what you deserve. Take Eleanor’s place as Lady Brixton, and you will never want for anything again.” His eyes blazed with emotion, and he seemed more alive than she had ever seen him. “You will have everything Eleanor planned and more.”

  Suddenly Tessa’s mind focused and she realized this discussion was all wrong. She had to tell him what he could not know, having missed Mary at her in-laws. “But Aidan, Jeffrey is alive!”

  There was a stunned silence as Aidan’s face showed several emotions, surprise, shock, and what might have been anger. Then the features composed to something like a mask, the lips white and the skin around the cheekbones tight. “How do you know this?”

  “I saw him—in Scotland. Jeffrey helped me to escape from the outlaws who had held him prisoner since his accident. I have reason to believe he escaped also, but we were separated, so I don’t know where he is now.”

  “You went to Scotland and found Jeffrey.” Aidan’s voice was as expressionless as his face. “You must care for him very much.”

  Tessa turned away, staring at nothing. “Aidan, I don’t know anymore what I feel for Jeffrey.”

  “My brother certainly seems able to capture the affections of women.”

  Tessa had to agree. “The outlaws might have killed him had it not been for Mairie’s interest,” she murmured.

  “Mairie?” Aidan looked shocked for a moment. “What an odd name. Is it Scots?”

  “No,” Tessa replied. “She is French. At least her mother was. She kept Jeffrey alive by persuading her brother—the outlaw lord—to spare him once William refused to pay the ransom. If Jeffrey has escaped, he will return to Brixton as soon as he can.”

  There was a pause. “To Brixton or to you?” Aidan asked pointedly. “Did you not say my brother dallied with Eleanor? Now you would take her leavings, knowing it’s only because she is dead that he has turned to you?”

  Tessa was firm, knowing she must convince Aidan to stop dreaming they would someday wed. Facing him squarely she said, “My feelings for him have nothing to do with Eleanor, nor anything to do with you and me. I told you before, I cannot promise myself to you—someone I care about—knowing I cannot return love for love.”

  Tessa moved toward him instinctively, pleading for understanding. Aidan moved suddenly, almost as if he’d been asleep and jarred awake. He smiled and his face softened, melting the tension between them. “It seems I must again accept your decision, though I hope you will consider my offer when you have time to think. Remember, if Jeffrey does return, he’ll be master of Brixton. He might not see you in the same way as he did when he was simply the youngest brother of Sir William Brixton. I, however, will love you no matter who you are and who I may become. Think on that, will you, Tess?”

  His words, though phrased delicately enough, were a warning. Jeffrey as Lord Brixton could have any woman he wanted. Why would he look to one such as she, who lived in a cheap inn and wore the same dress every day? It was a thought to be considered, and Aidan meant well by it, trying to make her see the hopelessness of her longing for Jeffrey. He picked up his cloak and shrugged it on.

  “Well. It’s wonderful to hear Jeffrey is alive and has escaped Hawick. I must return to Brixton immediately to discover if my brother has indeed returned.” He was himself again, warm and charming. He smiled down at Tessa and his eyes glowed as he said, “Make use of the house here in town. It is yours for as long as you like.”

  “Oh, Aidan, I couldn’t—”

  “Nonsense. As I’ve said, the world still thinks of you as Eleanor’s sister, so you have every right. If you like, I will bring Cecilia with me when I return so you shall be properly chaperoned.”

  It was tempting, and she knew Eleanor would urge her to accept, though William would turn over in his newly made grave. “Thank you, Aidan. I will consider it, but for the moment I shall stay here.” Unencumbered by favors owed, her mind finished the thought.

  He was gracious, and, giving her a formal little bow, left the inn briskly, already occupied with the future.

  Poor Aidan, Tessa thought, to be sure he’d finally reached the prize for which he’d evidently yearned, and then to find it might not be his after all. He was older than Jeffrey, but illegitimate. That meant the title went to Jeffrey first. Tessa hoped he wasn’t too downcast at the turn events had taken. Something he had said seemed odd, but she could not settle on what it was. She returned to her room as the thought pestered her, but the answer never became clear.

  Banaugh came that afternoon, as promised, and they walked together to the shop where he now worked. He introduced Tessa to Mrs. Goode, the proprietress, a woman whose thick figure and gray hair did nothing to diminish her engaging manner and pleasant expression.

  “Fergus tells me you are responsible for him comin’ to London, so I must thank ye, Mistress. Since my husband died, I’ve had offers of assistance from men, to be sure, but every one had his eye on a prosperous business and an easy life with his wife doin’ the work. Now Fergus here—” Odd, Tessa thought, that she’d never known his first name. “—be willin’ to work, and for a woman as well, and that’s a blessing.”

  “He will be a treasure,” Tessa replied. After a pleasant visit, she left alone, assuring Banaugh she could find her way back safely. She was actually a little sad. Banaugh and his new employer got on very well, and it was obvious he’d found his place in London. Of course, he would keep an eye on her, but he didn’t need her.

  The next few days were spent peacefully, resting and recuperating from the months of travel and strain she had experienced. Tessa’s hair regained its luster, her fingernails grew back, and the skin on her nose and forehead stopped peeling from too much exposure to the sun. She received with joy a basket from Mary that included creams, soaps, and other sundries ladies find worthwhile, and she did her best to repair the ravages of her days in the wilderness.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Late one afternoon Tessa was resting in her room when once again the child rapped on the door. “You’ve a visitor,” she announced, her voice conveying adolescent resentment of so many trips upstairs on Tessa’s behalf.

  “I thought Aidan had gone to York,” Tessa muttered.

  “Not that man, a different one this time,” came the terse response.

  Following the girl down the stairs, she entered the inn’s common room to find Jeffrey pacing the small space like a caged tiger.

  “Jeffr—Master Brixton,” Tessa said, aware of the landlord’s daughter staring at them coolly. She dismissed the girl with a nod of thanks. “How did you find me?”

  Jeffrey’s blue eyes flashed in his tanned face. “Mistress macFindlaech, I have been over half the island of Britain searching for you.” Pacing back and forth, he recounted his movements in a low voice as Tessa stood rapt. He had been searching for her! “I went to Jedburgh as soon as I escaped Hawick’s. You were not there and no one remembered seeing you, either as miss or lad. Then I went north, thinking you had returned to your family. On the way I asked about an old man and a boy everywhere I stopped. Finally a sheep herder remembered you, riding on fine horses, he said, like the one I rode. Banaugh had asked directions to Scone. I was hardly able to believe you would go directly into such danger, but I traveled to Scone myself, arriving just after Malcolm’s coronation. There I met my brother Ethelbert, of all people, who had a story to tell of a captive who had assured him I was alive. Where had she gone? I asked him. All he knew was that you had promised to leave Scotland.”

  Jeffrey ran a hand through his hair again at the memory. “I could have shaken him for letting you go blithely off on your own, though I should have known Banaugh would look after you. Finally I rode to Saint Andrews and began questioning ships’ crews. Banaugh was wise enough to leave a message with your ship’s captain that led me to London. A maid at Mary’s in-laws directed me here, having heard Mary mention your presence at the Mace and Thyme.” His face showed the frustration he’d experienced in the last weeks. “In short,
I have had a devil of a time tracking you down. Now, what in the name of heaven were you doing at Scone?”

  Tessa wanted to talk but sensed a half-grown witness lurking around the doorway. “Let us walk. We have things to discuss.” She asked the girl to fetch her cloak. Jeffrey gave her a small coin, which had a positive effect on her speed, and they went out into the chilly autumn evening. She quickly told Jeffrey of Banaugh’s new position and suggested they go to the shop, where the old man could listen and they could keep warm.

  They were largely silent as they walked, Tessa’s head filled with uncertainty of how she felt about Jeffrey’s visit. Part of her whispered to reject any contact with this man she was so unsure of, but another part of her sang with joy that he had sought her out. Perhaps she should have sent him away, but she knew she could not do it.

  The shop was half-filled with what looked like regular custom, men with roughened hands and serviceable clothing. They looked curiously at the two, the well-dressed man and the striking girl, but went back to their own pursuits as Banaugh escorted his friends to a table at the back. Introductions had to be made for the benefit of Mrs. Goode. Then she went off, assuring Banaugh she could handle the trade for an hour. Banaugh told Jeffrey some of their adventures, making light of the danger and giving Tessa much credit for her bravery and her stamina. She said little, and finally Banaugh invited Jeffrey to tell his story. “So, Master Brixton, your escape went well?”

  Jeffrey unfolded his long legs and regarded his feet, now drying in the fire’s warmth, before answering. “Not as well at first as I’d hoped, but well enough,” he said without looking at either of them. “They were so concerned with catching Tessa that they quite forgot about me.”

  “Did they learn you’d helped me escape?”

  “Hawick had no idea I was hiding in the room. He is sure you had a weapon hidden in the sleeve of your gown.”

  Tessa chuckled despite herself. “If I’d thought of it, I would have done so.”

  “Once you escaped, Hawick rethought his plans and decided to throw his lot in with Malcolm.” It was the first jarring note to Jeffrey’s homecoming, since his listeners had heard Hawick’s man say the decision had come at Jeffrey’s instigation.

  Banaugh’s eyes slid to Tessa’s face to gauge her reaction. Seeing her jaw clench, he rose to leave them alone, but not before he let Tessa know his feelings about Jeffrey. “Ye’re a good man, an’ a lucky one t’ ha’ lived sae long among tha’ pack o’ dogs an’ come oot wi’ yer whole skin, Master Brixton. Now I’ll be off t’ help Mistress Goode, an’ ye twa can speak t’ each other alone.” He went off, leaving Tessa staring at the rough plank table.

  “What is it, Tessa?” Jeffrey asked. “Have you something to say?”

  “No.”

  “Is something amiss between us?”

  She straightened and looked at him directly, her chin up. “No. We are as we have always been, two people with vast differences between us.”

  Jeffrey’s head cocked to one side as he tried to figure that one out, but he left it alone for the time being. “You have not told me what it was that took you to Scone, into the mouth of danger. Truly, I thought you would go home to the Cairngorms.”

  She took a deep breath, deciding the truth was best, no matter what the consequence might be. “I had to find my uncle, Jeffrey. You see, Banaugh and I heard Dougal talking as they searched for us on the road. After that, we went north to warn Macbeth of your advice to Hawick that he assassinate the king.”

  Jeffrey’s eyes widened and a frown furrowed his brow. “My advice?” Then he scowled even more. “Tessa, do you really believe I would plot the murder of your uncle, enemy of England or not?”

  She was thrown into confusion. “I—I didn’t know what to believe. We heard Dougal and the other man say it was your idea.”

  “Well, they were wrong or you misunderstood.”

  “Banaugh heard it too. They said the Englishman advised that assassinating Macbeth would prove Hawick’s loyalty to Malcolm.”

  Jeffrey slapped the table sharply and his face cleared. “There, I knew it. Are there not other Englishmen in the world beside me, Mistress macFindlaech?”

  Tessa felt relief and embarrassment at once as the truth dawned. “You mean—”

  “I am not the one they spoke of. In truth, I have some suspicion as to who the man might be, but I cannot prove it yet.” Jeffrey leaned toward Tessa, his hands spread out on the table between them. “In my time of captivity, Hawick referred to an English partner who dealt in stolen goods and other worse things. He was careful never to mention the man’s name. He was simply called the Englishman when they spoke of him, but the man regularly sent information to the outlaws to help them plan their crimes: ship’s routes, wealthy travelers near the borders, things like that. The box you brought to me at Hawick’s contained Eleanor’s suspicions of a certain person, which confirmed my own. Having no proof, I will not say his name, but it was he, I am sure, Dougal spoke of. He must have advised taking Malcolm’s side after gleaning information at Court about the invading army’s strength and leadership.”

  “So he thought Macbeth’s army would be defeated. Hawick hoped to gain favor by handing Malcolm the throne.”

  “Yes. Once you escaped, he must also have feared what you might tell your uncle about him. He would have had no chance with Macbeth after mistreating you as he did.”

  Tessa nodded. “I see. What a snake that man is.”

  “You need not tell me that. I struggled to stay alive in his snake pit for many months. At Scone, I told Ethelbert about Hawick and this associate in England. He said he had relayed what you told him to Malcolm Canmore, and he would add my information to yours. As yet the man’s position as king is so fragile that he dares not accuse Hawick, but once he is firmly in control, Malcolm has promised to root out the robber lords like Hawick, even those who purport to have done him service.”

  “Such action would be good for both our countries.”

  Jeffrey looked into Tessa’s eyes earnestly. “I promise you it was not I who hatched that plot. I know not what kind of man Macbeth was, but I would never be party to assassination, and besides, he was your uncle. A mercenary I may be, but I would not betray…a friend.” This last was almost something else, but Tessa couldn’t decide what word he might have used.

  The mention of his occupation brought to Tessa’s mind word of William’s death. “I am sorry to have misjudged you,” she apologized. “But Jeffrey, I have news that will affect you greatly.” She told him everything: her capture and escape from Scone, her meeting with Ethelbert, and finally Aidan’s visit. “Your brother William died, not over ten days ago, which means you are heir to Brixton.”

  When she had finished, Jeffrey stared into the fire for a few moments. “I never thought to hold the title. I’m not even sure if I want it.” She sat quietly, giving him time to think things through. Finally, he asked, “Aidan came to see you?”

  “Yes, he came shortly after I met Mary on the street.”

  Jeffrey frowned. “Why did my brother visit you?”

  Momentarily nonplussed, Tessa hesitated. How much of Aidan’s conversation should she reveal? “He…was concerned for my welfare and he…expressed hope that the future will be better.” It sounded weak, even to her own ears. “Why do you ask?”

  Now Jeffrey answered too vaguely: “I only wondered how he took the news of my return. It may be hard for Aidan, after thinking he was heir to Brixton, to find I am alive. Of course, I will be more generous to him than William ever was, but still, to be master is more desirable than to be second, no matter to whom.”

  Tessa nodded agreement. It would be hard for Aidan to accept Jeffrey’s return, considering the circumstances. She’d felt his disappointment at the news when she’d revealed it. Still, Jeffrey was his brother, and Aidan seemed a man who had always adjusted to what life demanded. He would simply have to adjust once more.

  Another question formed in Tessa’s mind, and
she asked, “Did you truly lose your memory when you fell into the sea?”

  “Yes, that was no act.” His face reflected the pain of it. “I did not know who I was or where I came from. Things came back to me, but only in bits. I remember almost everything now.” His eyes told her he recalled how their relationship began. “After I saw you that day dressed as yourself, the pieces of my past began to form into a comprehensible whole. You, Eleanor, and Brixton, the things I care about.”

  Tessa chose to ignore his inclusion of her in the listing of things he cherished. “Yet you gave no sign you knew me then.”

  Jeffrey’s eyes crinkled as he grinned at her. “One of the more vivid images was of a furiously angry girl vowing to someday avenge her grievances against me in any way possible. How could I be sure that same girl would not take the opportunity to have Hawick throw me into his donjon for eternity?”

  Tessa blushed as she remembered. “I have forgotten that vow, Jeffrey, and I wish you no harm.”

  “I came to that conclusion soon after, but then I was forced to betray you to Hawick to save your life when he learned you carried gold.” Jeffrey frowned in curiosity. “Why did you not use Macbeth’s gold to ransom me?”

  “After meeting the people in that place, Banaugh and I decided Hawick would take the money and kill us all anyway. Besides, I—I thought you were content at Hawick’s with—”

  Jeffrey smiled again. “With Mairie? Oh, Tessa, if you knew how evil that woman is.”

  “I have had some words with her,” Tessa responded, “and I have an inkling.”

  “Maire wants wealth and power.” Jeffrey scowled. “I amused her, but when my brother showed no interest in paying ransom, my usefulness at Hawick’s was much in doubt. I was trying to work out a plan for escape when you arrived.”

  “Better if I had not come. Then you’d only have had yourself to consider.”

  “Mistress macFindlaech, I would not have missed those moments locked in the storeroom with you for anything,” he teased, and she felt the warmth rise in her face.

  “And the buffet in the eye, did you enjoy that too?” Tessa grinned, then grew serious. “I wish now I’d given Hawick a few like it.”

  Jeffrey’s face sobered also. “You must watch for Hawick, for I fear he’ll show in London soon.”

  “Hawick come here? But why?”

  “Mairie hinted as much to me once. They have their sights set on wealth and power, and they will use the connection with Malcolm to advance themselves. The king will soon return to England to wed Princess Margaret, and the English will be forced to accept his entourage and treat them as guests, even men like Hawick.”

  “I see.”

  Jeffrey’s dark brows bent in thought. “This Englishman Hawick deals with has gained the trust of people in high places, for his information is reliable and valuable to the outlaws. If Ian joins with him here in England, they could make even more trouble than before. One thing is sure. His presence can bode no good for you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Tessa, he is your husband, whether willingly or no.”

  Tessa felt her neck and cheeks turning pink. Jeffrey had to know the truth.

  “No, he’s not.” Her voice was low, and she stared down at her hands, tracing the last of the Scottish bramble scratches, almost completely healed.

  “What?”

  “Hawick is not my husband, though he thinks he is. I was…married to someone else before I left England.”

  Jeffrey’s face turned to stone. “Really.”

  How could she explain her feelings of desolation over Eleanor’s death, William’s callous treatment of her, and the news of Jeffrey’s disappearance and assumed death? She saw he was controlling his anger by sheer force of will. “Who?” came out between clenched teeth.

  “Cedric—Lord Acton.”

  Jeffrey sat perfectly still for a few moments, struggling to control the flush that spread across his cheekbones. He swallowed once and his eyes closed slowly, like curtains falling over a stage. When he opened them a change had come over his face, and she saw the old look of amused scorn. “So, the little Scot caught herself an English lord. Well done, Tessa. I needn’t have worried, it seems. You land on your feet like a cat, every time.” Pushing back his chair, Jeffrey stood and bowed ironically. “Your servant, Lady Acton. Perhaps you, your husband, and I shall meet at court from time to time.”

  “I am not Lady Acton. At least I will not be for long,” Tessa hurried to explain. “An annulment is being sought. Aidan said it won’t take long—”

  It was the wrong thing to say, for Jeffrey came to the obvious conclusion. “So you hoped to exchange Lady Acton for Lady Brixton. Even better. Although Cedric is the wealthier, you’ll have a much easier time controlling poor Aidan, besotted as he is with you. I did not believe him that day at William’s London house when he told me that you and he—” Jeffrey stopped, again getting the better of his anger. “Good night, Lady Whoever-you-may-be when it’s finished. I wish you well in your quest for a wealthy mate.”

  Tessa fought for something to say to make him stay, to make that look disappear from his face, but he was gone as she sat with her mouth open, still trying to form the correct words.