She didn’t quite make it out of the parlor before Juliette focused on her next target. “And him!” the Frenchwoman snarled contemptuously. “Disowned and yet—”
The remark ended abruptly. Margaret glanced back at Juliette and then stopped in surprise. Denton had actually put his hand over his wife’s mouth to shut her up. Although he might be immune to the insults she leveled at him, he wasn’t going to let her slander his brother. Bravo, Denton! Margaret wondered if Sebastian’s return had given him courage. It was about time he took his wife in hand. And, apparently, she wasn’t the only one who thought so.
Someone clapped. Loudly. Then someone else did. Within seconds, the entire room was applauding. Juliette looked furious and embarrassed. She broke away from Denton, snarling a French expletive that Margaret was quite glad she didn’t understand and ran out the door.
Barely managing to get out of the way before Juliette knocked her over, Margaret backed into a hard body. She turned to apologize but didn’t get the words out. It was her temporary husband standing there, and he looked like hell warmed over.
For a moment she thought he looked angry because he’d been there long enough to have heard Juliette. But, amazingly, his tone was bland as he asked her, “Did I miss something pertinent?”
“Just your brother keeping his wife from reviling you in public.”
“Good for him,” Sebastian said. “Shall we go?”
She frowned. His lack of interest puzzled her. But his expression hadn’t changed. He was furious about something, and if not Juliette…
She was afraid to find out what, so she merely said, “Yes. I’ve already told our hostess we’re going home.”
“We’ll be stopping there,” he said as he took her arm and escorted her outside.
She braced herself to encounter Juliette on the steps, but fortunately, Juliette hadn’t waited for her coach to be brought up. She’d found it herself and it was racing down the road.
And then Margaret realized what Sebastian had just said. “What d’you mean, stopping there?”
“To pick up John and Timothy and any traveling companions you’d like to bring along.”
“Bring along to where? Where the devil are we going that we need an entourage?”
“Where else but Scotland? They do still marry people up there on the spot, don’t they?”
Margaret drew in her breath sharply. “We need to discuss this.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.”
“The devil there isn’t,” she rejoined hotly. “One doesn’t just hie off to Scotland in the middle of the night. At the very least, wait until morning when you’ll see that this isn’t necessary.”
“No waiting,” he said as he shoved her into the coach that had pulled up. “If I sleep on it, I won’t be doing the ‘right thing.’”
“But—”
“Not another bloody word, Maggie, or you will spend this entire trip in my lap.”
She opened her mouth, but the menacing glint in his eyes arrested her and she quickly clamped it shut. This was The Raven she was dealing with now, and the dratted man was serious!
Chapter 47
I ’VE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU, SIR,” Margaret announced as she caught up with Douglas on the eastern trail leading to the cliffs.
He had resumed his morning rides. She had ridden over to Edgewood bright and early only to be told that she had just missed him. It was just one more frustration to add to the long list of them that had plagued her since the night of Alberta’s party.
She still couldn’t believe that Sebastian, at least the reasonable Sebastian, hadn’t appeared once on that long trip to Scotland, that she’d had to suffer The Raven’s company for the entire journey. Cold, mercenary, silent. That odious man would have done exactly what he’d said he would do if she had tried to argue with him. And glorious fool that she was, she didn’t really want to argue with him, so she hadn’t put it to the test.
She’d foolishly hoped that if they did get married, he’d stay with her in England and really be her husband. Those hopes had soared when he’d kissed her in the church after he’d signed the papers that bound her to him. It had been a hard, passionate kiss that had pushed aside all her doubts. She’d even thought he’d mumbled that he loved her when he’d hugged her before walking out of the church, leaving her there alone.
When she went outside, however, he was gone. John and Tim were gone, their horses were gone, and she’d burst into tears. She’d known, deep down, that was going to happen. Sebastian might have ridden in the coach with her, but he’d brought his horses along. Once he’d finished doing the “right thing,” she was sure he’d ridden straight for the nearest dock to catch a ship back to Europe.
“I expected you sooner,” Douglas said a bit hesitantly, since her face was florid with agitation.
“Did you? Well, where shall I start? First, there was that mad dash to Scotland where we didn’t stop once to sleep, not once, just long enough to get baskets of food to take with us and answer nature’s calls. Sleeping in a vehicle that is racing across the countryside is next to impossible, if you didn’t know.”
“Then he did marry you?”
The question disconcerted her. “You didn’t think he would after you talked with him?”
“I wasn’t sure,” he admitted. “I bloody well haven’t been sure about anything since his return. He’s—changed. I got no sense of his feelings.”
“It was like dealing with a stranger? Yes, I know. But that’s who he is now. There’s nothing left of the old Sebastian in him. That fellow died with Giles.”
That was brutally blunt, even for her. But she was too annoyed at the moment to mince words. Douglas did appear stricken, though she might be reading him wrong, which wouldn’t surprise her. Her judgment did seem to be utterly off the mark lately.
“Well, as I was saying,” she continued, “I would have been back sooner, but I spent an entire day in bed recovering from that mad dash, and then the dratted wheel on my coach broke. That couldn’t happen before I wasted a day in bed, no, it had to happen afterward to delay me further!”
Douglas was now looking embarrassed, confounding her until he said, “You don’t have to make excuses for enjoying a brief honeymoon.”
Margaret blinked. She might have laughed hysterically if she weren’t so frustrated with the Townshends, father and son.
“Did I neglect to mention he deserted me at the altar? I would have much preferred he do so before he married me, but no, he signed those papers first, then left me there without a by your leave. You do realize that what would have been a simple matter of just saying I got a divorce is now going to be a major inconvenience for me? I will have to go to London, hire a solicitor, appear before the courts and—”
“Then don’t get a divorce.”
“I beg your pardon? Why the deuce would I remain married to a man whom I will never see again?”
“Because I don’t for a minute believe you’ll never see him again. He was sufficiently enamored with you to ruin your reputation, was he not?”
She snorted at his own bluntness. “My reputation is just fine, thank you.”
“It won’t be if you institute a divorce.”
“Nonsense. I happen to have the most valid, sympathetic reason possible. The man has deserted me. You are mistaken if you think he actually had tender feelings for me. Lust was all he felt for me.”
She hadn’t meant to be that frank.
“You cannot convince me that you succumbed to lust, Maggie. You love him, don’t you?”
She sighed. “Not that it matters, but yes, I am that foolish.”
“Did you tell him?”
“Certainly not! I admit I’m a fool, but not that foolish. He gave me no indication, ever, that he returned my feelings. A woman has to have some encouragement before she bares her heart. Now it’s your turn to be truthful with me, Douglas. Did you hope this marriage would make Sebastian stay here in England?”
“That
did occur to me, but only after you two had left the party that night. It certainly wasn’t why I insisted he marry you.”
“Then why?”
“Do you really need to ask? He’s a Townshend. No son of mine will dishonor a lady of your quality and not correct the wrong he did you.”
She stared incredulously at him. “Did you hear what you just said? A son of yours? Do you not realize that he no longer considers himself that? If your disowning him didn’t fix that in his mind, he arrived here to find—”
“Maggie, listen to me,” he interrupted rather quickly, as if he were afraid he might change his mind. “You’re his wife now, at least for the moment you are, and I’ve cut myself off from those I could have confided this to.”
“What do you mean, cut yourself off?”
“Deliberately, mind you. I felt I didn’t deserve to have a shoulder to cry on.”
She frowned, not quite understanding, and then she did. “Good God, you regret disowning him, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
“Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you tell your mother, for that matter, instead of living with her silence all these years?”
“Because I deserved her contempt, but even that wasn’t enough punishment. I wouldn’t allow myself the comfort she would have offered. Sebastian was gone. Nothing could have absolved me of being responsible for that.”
“You’ve regretted it that long?”
“Oh, yes. And I wasn’t even angry at him, I was angry for him, because I knew what he’d done would destroy him. But I let that anger get out of hand. Having a wicked hangover the morning of that dratted duel didn’t help, because I’d gotten foxed the night before over the entire mess with Giles. But once the fumes of anger left me, and my head stopped pounding, I realized what I’d said. Even then, I didn’t think he’d taken me literally. But when I went to find him to tell him I didn’t mean it—he was already gone.”
“You didn’t send someone after him?”
“No, I went myself. I’d guessed the right direction he’d taken, but his ship had already sailed by the time I reached Dover. I got passage on the next ship available, but—obviously I never found him. I’ve sent others more capable than I over the years, but it was as if he disappeared from the face of the earth.”
“Or changed his name, which he did. Now for God’s sake, Douglas, why didn’t you tell Sebastian all this while he was here?”
“Do you really need to ask, when you said it yourself? I wasn’t going to bare my heart, either. Not once did he appear willing to hear what I had to say on the subject. If anything, he was as closed as a sealed tomb when he was with me. He isn’t going to forgive me. Nor can I blame him, when I can’t forgive myself.”
Chapter 48
Y OU’VE BEEN DAMNED MOODY SINCE WE GOT BACK,” Sebastian remarked as he listened to John slamming lids back on pots on the stove.
The kitchen was cold, despite all the cooking that had been done in it that day. What had been left to simmer on the stove for their dinner just didn’t heat a room of that size. The fire crackling in the hearth was too far away from the table as well. They should have moved the table closer to it, but Sebastian couldn’t seem to get up the gumption to do anything. Eight inquiries about jobs had been left with Maurice, the caretaker, but he hadn’t bothered to read any of the notes.
“I take my cue from you,” John replied as he came to the table with a bowl of thick stew.
“The hell you do,” Sebastian shot back. “You usually just try to distract me out of my dark moods.”
“Would it work this time?”
“No.”
“There’s your answer, and your dinner is getting cold. Or were you going to eat that bottle of brandy tonight?” John asked, eyeing the brandy in front of Sebastian.
“I’m thinking about it.”
That reply cracked a grin out of John, but it was brief. Sebastian had never seen his friend like this before. Sebastian had moods, but John was the optimist who could be depended on to pull him up from the depths.
“Spit it out, John.”
“The boy is unhappy. He really took to your grandmother and misses her.”
“And that’s what has had you making a nonstop racket for the last two days?”
John sighed. “I actually thought we would remain in England. Why, you might ask? Because you married Lady Margaret! You might not ever speak with your father again, but she is there and is reason enough to stay. If you had no intention of doing so, you shouldn’t have married her.”
“So,” Sebastian said thoughtfully, “you’ve been slamming things around because you are annoyed with my decision? Or because, like Timothy, you find yourself missing someone we left behind?”
John flushed angrily. “Unlike some people, I don’t deny I’ve met the woman I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life with.”
“You don’t need to wait this out with me, John. Go on back and claim your lady.”
“And leave you to drown in your mistakes?”
“I don’t make mistakes.”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
Sebastian laughed at the rejoinder. When John was annoyed, he was quite amusing. But he supposed he shouldn’t have left him in the dark.
“I’m giving Maggie a week to start divorce proceedings,” he explained. “It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. But if I find she hasn’t done so, then she will have lost her chance to be rid of me.”
“That implies you’re going back to check?”
“Of course.”
“Well, damn me, you couldn’t have mentioned that sooner?” John complained.
Sebastian shrugged. “It wasn’t an easy decision to make. Maggie deserves better than me. But for once I’m going to be selfish.”
“That’s if she hasn’t started the proceedings. What if she has?”
“Then fate will have decided the matter.”
John rolled his eyes. “Why leave it to chance? She doesn’t think she’ll ever see you again. She has no reason to delay a divorce.”
Sebastian’s lips thinned out. He’d decided only that morning to keep Margaret—if she didn’t immediately get her divorce. He really hadn’t thought much beyond giving her a few more days to see to it. But chivalry didn’t suit him at all. Why indeed leave it to fate?
“If she’s divorced me, perhaps I’ll get down on bended knee and actually ask for her hand. How long do you think she’ll laugh?”
John scowled at him. “Why do you do this? Why do you feel that the life you’ve taken on is contemptible? You’ve helped a lot of people who were desperate and would otherwise be flat out of luck if not for you.”
“And done a lot of meaningless jobs that merely served the greed or vengeance of the ones hiring me.”
“So there were a few bad jobs mixed in with the good. The good ones still count. What made you think Lady Margaret would turn you down if you offered her your life rather than the one she’s accustomed to?”
“I said I’m going back,” Sebastian said defensively.
“But you were joking about asking her to marry you, the real you, the man you are now, not the one you used to be. What makes you think she wouldn’t have you?”
“What makes you think she would? Every interaction I’ve had with her was forced on her, including making that marriage real. She had a host of reasons why she didn’t want to marry me and would have trotted them all out had I let her.”
“Perhaps because you forgot to tell her that you wanted to marry her? Or am I reading this wrong? Did you tell her how you feel about her?”
Sebastian downed the remaining brandy in his glass. “You’ve made some good points, John. I’ll give it more thought.”
“By the by,” John added curiously, “what did Denton have to say?”
“When?”
“In his letter.”
“What letter?”
John rolled his eyes. “I should have known you were too deep in though
t earlier to hear me tell you I put his letter in your room. It arrived this morning.”
Curious, Sebastian went to fetch the letter but was disappointed when he read it. He returned to the kitchen to tell John in disgust, “Cryptic as usual. I don’t know what his problem is these days, that he has to skirt every issue.”
“Why did he write to you, then?”
Sebastian snorted. “To tell me that if I want answers, I might find them with Juliette’s brother. Why the deuce doesn’t Denton just give me the answers?”
“Perhaps he doesn’t know what they are,” John offered.
That thought gave Sebastian pause. He reread the letter:
Seb,
I didn’t think you’d leave this quickly. I needed time to readjust my thinking. Juliette had me convinced for the longest time that you were the culprit. It quite removed the halo I’d placed over your head.
I should have told you this sooner, that yes, Juliette has been responsible for father’s accidents. Although he suspects nothing and swears they were just accidents, and she hasn’t stated clearly that she’s caused them, she’s implied it, and has promised worse will happen if I divorce her. But before that, there were other things she held over my head.
God, even now I don’t have the guts to tell you. But her brother, Pierre Poussin, might know. She had him tossed in prison on some charge she fabricated, because he was going to stop her. At least, she throws it in my face that she got rid of him for me. Maybe he doesn’t even exist. Maybe everything she says is just lies. God, I just don’t know.
“Actually, he says as much,” Sebastian remarked, handing the letter to John. “That he doesn’t know. Although it sounds like Juliette has him convinced that she is causing my father’s accidents, which I’m not sure is the case a’tall. She’s using them as a means to control Denton, though.”
John looked up from the letter. “Ah, Juliette’s brother in prison…her remark the gardener overheard at Edgewood makes more sense now.”
“That she got rid of her brother for him, and got rid of me for him? For him? Hmm, I just may have to beat my brother senseless and rearrange his guts for him, since he seems to have lost them.”