Lady Sabrina’s Secret (16 page)

‘Well, you would say that, wouldn't you? But with my written admission of guilt, it would be very convenient for me to meet with an accident.'

‘So it would, but unfortunately I do not wish to fall foul of the law myself. However, let me remind you that I am a
very determined man, and I always get exactly what I want. In this instance I want you alive, but safely far away from England.'

‘Why?' Sir James searched his face shrewdly, and then glanced toward Sabrina and Lady Ann, a new light
entering
his pale eyes. ‘You're afraid of the courts!' he declared, his tone dangerously close to a taunt.

Rowan calmly drew a chased silver pistol from his coat and leveled it at Sir James's temple. ‘Far be it from me to insist upon compliance, Uppingham, but I fear that that is the way of it,' he said dryly, pushing the barrel against Sir James's perspiring skin. ‘Now then, let us come to some sort of understanding, mm? You sit down like a fine fellow and write the required letter, and in return I will allow you sufficient time to leave the country and avoid arrest. Oh, I almost forgot, I have two very large henchmen waiting to escort you. Bristol is your destination, Uppingham, and the vessel that leaves on the morning tide for Jamaica. A few years in the Indies would be the very thing for you, don't you think? You look so pale and sickly at the moment that I fancy a little sun might be a sovereign remedy.'

‘If you think I will oblige you by agreeing, you must be mad!' Sir James cried then.

The pistol jabbed warningly. ‘Don't be difficult, Uppingham, for this is no jest. The last thing I intend is for you to have your say in court, and that is the only reason you are being offered exile as an alternative. But I have property in Jamaica, and my spies will be everywhere on the island, so that I will know of your every move and of your every unguarded word. Let anything slip to the
detriment
of any lady in this room, and you will have me to answer to. If you fancy the notion of having to glance
constantly over your shoulder in case I am there, then by all means refuse to do as I ask. The choice is really yours, but I feel that the sensible decision would be to accommodate me in this. Of course, I may run out of patience in a moment, and my finger may twitch…. Accidents do happen, as you've already pointed out.'

Sir James was visibly trembling now, and beads of perspiration stood out on his brow, which was ashen with fear. Gone was his bravado and swagger, and instead he had become a craven coward. He nodded. ‘Very well, I will do as you ask.'

‘Good. The writing desk awaits.' With the pistol Rowan gestured toward the corner.

The room was silent as Sir James sat down and picked up a pen. Bright color and anger still marked Sabrina's cheeks as she watched him, but Lady Ann's face was calm. She now had nothing but contempt for him and wished with all her heart that she had defied him from the beginning.

Rowan glanced at Deborah, who still remained in the doorway. Their eyes met, and he smiled at her. She returned the smile and knew that she loved him.

At last Sir James sanded the vellum, shook the sheet, and then held it out to Rowan. ‘Will that suffice?' he asked.

Rowan read the letter, and then nodded. ‘Well, since you shoulder the blame for stealing Lady Ann's necklace and hiding it in Richard Wexford's carriage in order to make it appear that he was the guilty party, then yes, it will suffice. But don't take any of my warnings lightly, Uppingham, for I meant everything, and if I feel obliged to break the law by putting an end to you, I will do so.'

‘There won't be any need, for I will abide by your wishes in this.'

‘See that you do.' Rowan tossed the sheet of vellum down again. ‘Seal it.'

Sir James folded the letter, and then held the sealing wax to the candle. Allowing the molten wax to drip on the folded sheet, he then pressed his signet ring into it, leaving a perfect imprint of his cartwheel device.

Rowan went to the table and picked up the handbell. The butler hurried in immediately.

‘Your Grace?'

‘All is ready. You may take our, er, unwelcome guest out to his escort.'

‘Your Grace.' The butler bowed, and then turned
expectantly
to Sir James. ‘Sir?'

Slowly Sir James rose from the writing desk. ‘Am I to be permitted sufficient time to settle my affairs and pack?'

‘If you can do so within an hour, then yes, otherwise I fear not, for you are going to be on that vessel when she leaves on the morning tide. And don't imagine that you will escape your guards, for they have been very well paid to keep a close watch on you. They will receive more if they deliver you safely on board, and so they have a vested interest in seeing to it that they carry out my instructions.'

Sir James's pale eyes moved toward Sabrina. ‘I did it because I love you, Sabrina,' he said.

She didn't respond, except to turn her back toward him.

Without another word Sir James left the drawing room, not even glancing at Deborah as he passed. The butler gave him his cloak, and then opened the door. Two men stood there, and as Sir James emerged, they seized his arms and propelled him toward his carriage.

As the whip cracked and the vehicle drew away, Sabrina suddenly put her hands to her face and burst into tears.
Lady Ann turned swiftly to comfort her.

‘It's over now, my dear.'

‘It w-won't be over until we f-find Richard,' Sabrina sobbed, clinging to the older woman.

‘We'll find him,' Lady Ann replied reassuringly.

A lump began to rise in Deborah's throat as well. Richard's name had been cleared, but he did not know it. He still believed himself to be pursued by the law for
something
he hadn't done, and he believed he had lost forever the woman he loved so much. If only they knew where he was, so that they could tell him all was well.

Rowan came to her, taking both her hands. ‘We'll find him, I promise you,' he said softly.

‘I pray you are right.'

‘I am right, Deborah, for I will not rest until this has been resolved to the satisfaction of all concerned.' He smiled into her tear-filled eyes. ‘We are all going to emerge from this with our due measure of happiness.'

Rowan escorted Deborah and Lady Ann back to their
quarters
not long after that and left them to regale Mrs McNeil and Christabel with the details of what had happened, but as they reached the door, he detained Deborah for a moment to remind her that they were to take a drive together the following day.

‘I trust tonight's excitement hasn't wiped other matters from your memory?'

‘Other matters?'

‘We agreed to take a drive tomorrow.'

‘I have not forgotten,' she replied.

‘I will call at two o'clock.'

She smiled. ‘I look forward to then.'

‘As I do,' he said. ‘Good night, Deborah.'

‘Good night, Rowan.'

Afraid that he would be able to see the love in her eyes, she turned and hurried into the house, and after a moment he retraced his steps along the pavement.

She entered the drawing room to find Lady Ann already relating the satisfactory sequence of events concerning the defeat and exile of Sir James Uppingham.

Mrs McNeil was exultant. ‘So, in the immortal words of the great bard, “all's well that ends well”!' she declared triumphantly.

Lady Ann nodded, and then reached over to take her daughter's hand. ‘Christabel, my dear, I came to a long overdue decision tonight, but even if it is overdue, it is still final. I mean to take you to meet your grandfather.'

Christabel's eyes widened. ‘The earl? But—'

‘No buts, not any more. I should never have been so weak and timid that I kept you a secret all these years. We will leave Bath for Hertfordshire as soon as possible.'

Mrs McNeil rose from her chair and went to ring for Sanders. ‘Tonight is too important not to be suitably toasted,' she said. ‘I think that a bottle of my niece's
champagne
is called for, don't you?'

Deborah expressed as much delight as the others at this suggestion, but inside she knew that for her at least it wasn't yet time for champagne. Oh, she had achieved what she had set out to do, and Richard's honor had been restored, but there was now the new dimension of her love for Rowan. She was afraid to hope too much, for although he had kissed her tonight and invited her to drive with him tomorrow, she might still be reading far too much into what might after all be merely his way. She had
surrendered
her heart far too quickly, and she knew it herself, even without Mrs McNeil's warning. Had she conveyed entirely the wrong impression when she had permitted things to take the course they had in order to fool Sir James's coachman? Did Rowan now think that she was ripe for the plucking, and regard her as a pleasurable diversion, to be enjoyed for a while before he discarded her in order to resume his passionate liaison with Kate Hatherley?

Some time later, as the ormulu clock on the mantelpiece struck midnight, Lady Ann got up from her chair. ‘I suddenly feel very tired indeed. I fear that champagne after all that excitement and strain has made me horribly drowsy.'

Mrs McNeil nodded. ‘I feel exactly the same, even though I wasn't actually at the scene. I fear that tomorrow is going to be inordinately dull for us all.'

Lady Ann went to her and kissed her cheek. ‘Good night, Morag. I'm so glad that I've been able to wipe my slate clean and become truly restored to your favor.'

‘I'm glad, too.'

A running footman was sent to engage two sedan chairs to convey Lady Ann and her daughter back to Great Pulteney Street, and within half an hour Mrs McNeil and Deborah were alone together.

The older woman surveyed the younger shrewdly.

‘Your joy was somewhat reserved, my dear,' she said.

‘I won't feel it's truly over until we've found Richard.'

‘Oh, maybe that's part of it, but I fancy the Duke of Gretton is also greatly on your mind.'

‘I'd rather not talk about it, Mrs McNeil.'

‘I'll warrant you would, for uncomfortable facts seldom sit easily upon our shoulders. Deborah, my dear, you aren't a green girl; you're a mature woman who knows the ways of the world. Rowan Sinclair is one of the most eligible and desirable men in the land, and he is also in love with his mistress. Common sense alone must tell you where that places you in his scheme of things. I do not deny that he appears to be showing an interest in you, but you must be very wary as to why he is doing so. If you are content to provide a few hours of pleasure for him, then by all means
be foolish enough to do just that, but if you value yourself, as I think you do, then you will draw back from danger.'

‘You do not tell me anything I do not know already,' Deborah replied heavily.

‘Then perhaps I need only say that I do understand how you feel, my dear. I may be past my prime now, but I had my moments in my youth. I know the all-consuming power of love and desire, and I know that you are in the grip of that power. Rowan Sinclair is the sort of man who would make a virgin saint throw caution to the winds, and you are neither a virgin nor a saint, but a woman who has known the joys of complete love, and who misses those joys. You are more vulnerable than you realize, my dear, and I am so afraid that you are going to suffer great hurt at the hands of the Duke of Gretton.'

‘I know the hazards, Mrs McNeil.'

‘Then take my advice and act accordingly.'

‘I am going for a drive with him tomorrow afternoon. I think I will know then what his purpose is.'

Mrs McNeil studied her. ‘Yes, my dear, you probably will, but what if his purpose is base?' she asked quietly.

Deborah didn't reply.

After a moment Mrs McNeil came to drop a kiss on her forehead. ‘Just take care, my dear, that's all I ask. I don't want to see you hurt. Now then, I think we should both retire to our beds, don't you?'

‘I'll come up in a while, Mrs McNeil. I just want to sit here a little longer.'

‘Very well. Good night, Deborah.'

‘Good night.'

When the doors had closed behind the older woman, Deborah got up from her chair and went to extinguish all
the candles, leaving the room lit only by firelight. She was about to resume her seat when she heard a carriage drive slowly along the Crescent from the direction of the Circus. It came to a halt somewhere nearby, and then there was silence. She didn't hear the opening or closing of the carriage doors or any voices. Her curiosity aroused, she went to the window and peeped outside.

The carriage was drawn up by the railings opposite. It was clearly visible in the light from a street lamp, and she saw that it was a dark green landau drawn by two cream horses. The hoods were raised, and there was no crest or coat-of-arms on its panels so that it was impossible to guess to whom it belonged.

Deborah drew the curtain back a little more, wondering why it had just halted there like that. Then, as she looked, a woman's face appeared at the tiny window. The face stared directly at her for a moment, pale and indistinct in the shadows, but then the door of the landau opened, and the woman alighted. She wore a white satin cloak with a hood, and as she stepped down, the hood fell back for a moment. Deborah could suddenly see her face and hair quite clearly. It was Kate Hatherley.

The actress crossed the road toward the house and quite obviously intended to come there. Instinct told Deborah that she was the only one upon whom Kate would call at this hour, and that whatever Rowan's mistress had to say to her was best said in complete privacy, and so she went to open the door herself just as Kate reached the steps.

The actress's brown eyes flickered, and a faint smile touched her lips. ‘Can it possibly be that you expected me, Mrs Marchant?'

‘No, I didn't expect you, I merely happened to see you alight.'

‘Just as I saw you looking out.' Kate stepped past her into the hall, bringing with her the faintest hint of roses from the scent she wore.

Deborah closed the door quietly and glanced up the staircase for a moment, but all was quiet, and Sanders had not realized that anyone had called. ‘If you will come this way,' she said to Kate and conducted her into the drawing room, closing the door behind them so that they would not be overheard unless they raised their voices.

‘Please be seated,' she said to Kate, gesturing to any of the chairs.

‘I do not think that this is the sort of call that requires much coziness, Mrs Marchant,' Kate replied, turning to face her, her tumbling chestnut curls shining in the
firelight
.

‘Then what sort of call is it?' Deborah inquired
guardedly
.

‘I think you already know. I've come here because of the Duke of Gretton.'

Deborah said nothing.

Kate's dark eyes were cool. ‘I don't intend to behave like a lady, Mrs Marchant, and if you think that I will stand idly by and allow you free rein to set your cap at Rowan Sinclair, you are sadly mistaken. I saw in a moment how you felt about him, and I also saw that you believed he was interested in you, or at least you hoped he was.'

‘When I came to your house my sole concern was
clearing
my brother's name, and if you imagined you saw anything else in my reason for being there, then you are the one who is sadly mistaken.' Deborah held the woman's
eyes. ‘You know why I followed him there, and you assisted in persuading him to go with me. For that I will always be grateful to you, and I would prefer it if our acquaintance could remain on that amiable note.'

‘Our acquaintance can never be amiable, Mrs Marchant, not when we both want the same man.' Kate's eyes flashed. ‘Oh, don't play the innocent with me, for I have been with him since then, and I know what you're up to. Well, the gloves are off, my dear, and from now on I will do all in my power to turn him against you. He's mine, and he's going to remain mine.' The dark eyes swept Deborah scornfully from head to toe. ‘Do you honestly imagine that you have what it takes to triumph over me? I have made love-making an art, and when I decide that I want to keep a man's interest, then I do not fail. I have forgotten more than you have ever known, and I know how to gratify his every fantasy and whim. From now on he will know even more pleasure in my arms, and you may be sure that if he amuses himself with you, he will soon find you dull and return to me. Forget that at your peril.' Kate's eyes glittered in the candlelight. ‘He is spending tonight with me, and that is something else you should not forget.'

With that the actress turned and left the room. She went out into the night, leaving the front door open behind her, and Deborah remained in the drawing room as the carriage drew away. Then she went slowly out to the door, inhaling deeply of the frosty air before closing the door and leaning back against it.

Was he really going to spend tonight with his mistress? Please let it not be so; let it be a falsehood on Kate's part, designed to deter a rival. Let Kate's actions tonight be a
lesser equivalent of the lies Sir James Uppingham had devised to rid himself of Richard Wexford.

Deborah closed her eyes, for she knew it was a vain hope.