The boy had probably seen all the color drain from her face. He looked concerned. She summoned a smile. “I’m fine, Gerry. Go and fetch your mother for me, will you?”
He ran from the room and up the stairs. A few moments later, when Melinda appeared in the small office, Elizabeth was on her feet. “Melinda, dear, Joshua is coming home.”
Tears appeared in the woman’s eyes. “Oh, finally. I’ve missed him so. And Gerry needs a man to look up to.”
While Melinda’s nose was buried in her handkerchief Elizabeth shot a glance at Gerry. The boy rolled his eyes and she smiled. Even though he was at a difficult age he was a treasure. How he’d ever come from Melinda’s line was a mystery to Elizabeth. “He’ll be here this evening. I’ll be quite busy today.”
Melinda blinked. “But I planned to shop for a new hat today.”
Elizabeth barely restrained herself from grinding her teeth. “With Joshua’s arrival I’m afraid I won’t be able to watch Gerry. You will have to do it today, Melinda.” Not that Gerry needed watching. Melinda needed more watching than he did. She met the boy’s dark gaze again and tried not to grin when he smirked.
“Well, I don’t see why I should—”
“Because I must prepare the household for its master’s homecoming. Unless you would prefer to do it?” Of course she wouldn’t. Melinda hated real work.
“Well, you’ve been…indisposed for so long and I’ve had no moment to…”
Elizabeth stared at her and Melinda shifted to her other foot and glanced at the floor as if she knew how she sounded. The woman’s selfishness knew few boundaries. Indisposed? Yes, she’d been shattered by the discovery of the shredded body outside the door. Fear had been her constant shadow. Was it Perry’s work? Who else could it be? The task of diverting the authorities had been her responsibility and not an easy one.
“I won’t keep you, cousin.” Melinda’s chin tipped up and Elizabeth braced herself. Ten years had taught her when Melinda would try to wound her. “Of course maybe Joshua has come home to give me what is rightfully mine.”
So the rumors were true. Elizabeth glanced at Gerry and smiled. “Gerry, will you go and fetch Sarah for me? I need to get started on Joshua’s homecoming.”
For a moment Elizabeth thought Gerry would protest. The boy shot a worried glance at his mother and left the room. Melinda remained tense and still as Gerry left.
Elizabeth had heard the rumors about Melinda’s scheming. Yet Elizabeth had discounted them, unwilling to believe that a woman who depended on her so fully would betray her in such a manner.
For all of Melinda’s posturing and snide remarks, Elizabeth had counted on the woman’s family loyalty. Apparently, she had none. For years she’d implied and hinted at Elizabeth’s fall from status. Finally Melinda had come out and said it. Elizabeth nodded. “You may wish Joshua has come back to Arundale to divorce me and marry you, but I know my husband. Even if he hated me, Melinda, he would remain married to me.” She stepped closer to the woman, years of resentment seething inside her. “But perhaps he’s come home to give me the child I’ve always wanted.”
Melinda stared at her. “You mean to usurp Gerry with a brat of your own?”
“Why not?” Elizabeth snapped. “For ten years you’ve waited for your chance to steal my husband, relying on my good will but always reminding me I was childless and my husband miles away. Why wouldn’t I want my own child to inherit Arundale Hall?”
The other woman shrank from her. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t start what you’re unwilling to finish,
cousin
.” She snapped the last word. “I’ve loved you for Joshua’s sake and will continue to do so. But don’t ever threaten me like that again.”
Melinda glared at her. “Or what? You’ve no children and Perry is well on his way to a destruction of his own making. With the entail, Gerry will inherit. You can’t remove me.”
“No. But until now, you’ve had whatever you’ve requested. You might keep in mind that Joshua may not see your financial ‘needs’ the same way I have.” She gave the woman a contemptuous glance from head to toe. “He’s coming home and things will change. We’ll see if you get your chance to remove me.”
The woman’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I never should have said it.” She began to cry and Elizabeth sighed.
Melinda wasn’t evil and Elizabeth doubted she truly wanted Joshua for her husband. But her helplessness, her dependence, made her lash out. That was something Elizabeth knew well.
“Joshua cares for you as he would a sister. You will not be cast out of his home. By him or by me. Provided you mind your manners with him.”
Melinda’s arms tightened around her. “You’re too good. I’m so frightened all the time, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth wasn’t afraid of Joshua coming home.
She was angry.
Work helped. She attacked the business of readying the estate for her husband’s homecoming, preparing an elaborate meal, cleaning out the unused rooms in case he wanted to inspect them and supervising the work of the maid.
In the days before he left, Arundale Hall had employed three maids and a cook. But Elizabeth had been forced to economize when Perry’s exploits and Melinda’s spending habits had cut into the household accounts. Now only one maid, the cook, Jackson and Huggins, who was too old for any strenuous task, took care of the hall. The stable had suffered as well. Botter was all that remained to care for the three horses they still owned. Whether Joshua had noticed this or not Elizabeth did not know. She’d sent a rendering of the accounts every quarter and rarely received any input from him.
By the time she’d finished the upstairs, the rage she’d experienced earlier had subsided, though it smoldered beneath the surface. She could feel it boiling and bubbling like some foul brew.
Perry didn’t help.
She approached his apartments in the south wing of the house with trepidation. The smell was bad and the maid refused to have anything to do with Perry’s room. When taxed with it, Sarah had said the man was dangerous. Elizabeth took that to mean Perry had either assaulted her or insulted her. Either way, it meant Elizabeth cleaned his room or it remained a pigsty.
Her knock on his door seemed loud in this deserted part of the house. Damn him for being such a stubborn man. She stifled a gasp when the door was flung open and Perry stood there, wild-eyed.
Elizabeth studied her brother-in-law. He’d been fifteen when she’d married Joshua. Then, he’d seemed amusing, well on his way to becoming a lawyer. But drink and gambling had destroyed that hope. At twenty-five he already had the red face and sloppy dress of an inveterate bounder.
Of course, five years ago she’d learned the reason behind Perry’s drinking and carousing, as well as her husband’s abandonment. But when she’d tried to broach the subject with her brother-in-law he’d refused to listen. Another failure.
“Well?” he snapped.
“Joshua is coming home,” she told him. Suddenly, she hated them all—Perry, Melinda, even poor Gerry. They were parasites, perfectly willing to let Joshua pay for their inability to function.
Perry blinked. “Joshua is coming home?”
She met his gaze steadily. “He is. Perhaps he’s tired of running from who he is?”
Perry glared at her. “Don’t, Elizabeth.”
She tightened her lips. “Don’t what? For all these years I’ve followed you into the dankest and darkest places in England and you still won’t let me really help you.”
“You’re not family,” he said coldly.
Her heart tore at that comment. Yes, that was true. She was not an Arundale—married to one, but not part of the family. Early in their relationship Perry had needed her, had treated her like an older sister. But lately he had distanced himself, implying that his well-being was not her business. In every way that Perry could say Elizabeth did not belong, he said it. Today was just the day he’d said it bluntly.
She nodded slowly. “A day for truths, apparently. Well, here’s one for you, Perry. I will no longer chase you down in your disgusting journey to deny who you are. Joshua will be home. He can do it.” She turned her back and strode down the corridor. “In fact, do as you wish with your apartments. I don’t care.”
Chapter Four
Home. Joshua stared at the moors that stretched for miles before him but indicated that he was close to Arundale. The smell of the heather hit him first, then the wind battered him. His home was no gentle escape but a dominating slap on the back. It made him feel his heritage to his bones.
With Jaimison by his side Joshua galloped the last three miles, reveling in the familiar trails and unchanged landscape. Ten years and yet the land endured.
The man who took his horse was a stranger but he kept his head down and his mouth shut. Joshua snapped out instructions. “Walk him for ten minutes before you brush him down.” He glanced at Jaimison. “Will you be coming in with me?”
“Do you wish me to, my lord?”
Joshua noted that the stable man started and stared at him. “To pay my respects to my wife? Yes, I do wish it. She would be offended if you didn’t.”
“Will you want your horse in the morning?” the stable man asked him. Joshua glanced at him. So Elizabeth had given some instructions. She’d remembered that he rode in the early morning. What other arrangements had his wife made?
“Yes. At six. I’m an early riser.”
The man turned a clear gaze on him. “Yes, my lord.”
Joshua liked the look of the man. “What’s your name?”
“Botter. Harold Botter. I’ve been with Lady Arundale for six years now.” The man’s hands were calloused and rough, but Joshua noted that they were gentle when he touched the horses. The stable seemed well cared for, but there were fewer horses than when he’d left Arundale. Only three horses occupied an area that had housed five or six when his father had been alive.
“Which is my wife’s horse?”
Botter glanced at Jaimison, who kept his gaze out of the stable door. “The big black, my lord.”
Joshua followed Botter’s nod and noted a monster horse, a mare, but large and muscular. Most women would prefer a gentle brown filly but it appeared his wife rode the devil himself in equine form.
The stable hand took a deep breath. “She’s a nightmare to ride for anyone but her, she is. Best bit ’o horseflesh I ever seen, but you won’t catch me ridin’ her. Not for all the Leprechaun’s gold.” The man’s gaze rested on the huge horse. “Peas in a pod, that Shadow and her. Ride like the hounds of hell are after them across the moor.” He spat. “She’s a demon, that horse.” He glanced back at Joshua. “Yet with her ladyship, Shadow is as gentle as any lamb with its shepherd.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, my lord. I talk too much.”
A faint smile lifted Joshua’s lips. “No. You remind me of old Bartholomew, who taught me to ride in my youth.”
Botter grinned, a few of his black teeth visible. “Bartholomew Eyers? He was my mother’s brother. Could explain it.”
Joshua’s smile widened. “It could. All right, Botter. I’m home now. No need to worry.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Six sharp, now.”
“Yessir.”
Joshua liked the way the man tipped his hat, then brushed the neck of his horse. A good man, he thought as he turned and strode toward the house.
Arundale Hall. Its foundations had been laid in the time of William the Conqueror and given to a Norman warrior. That warrior had married a Saxon woman and his children had held the manor for three centuries.
Joshua stopped and ran his fingers over one of the blocks of stone left from the old castle. The history of Arundale fascinated him. His family had come to the hall lately, only two hundred years earlier, during the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Her reign and his family’s rise had coincided, the first Arundale raised from a common merchant to a peer in only one generation, made an earl by the queen. It had been the long-cherished dream of the first Arundale to own the land associated with the title given to him. How could he have known it would lead to a legacy of terror and blood?
The possession of Arundale Hall had been cemented by Gervase Arundale’s marriage to Anne DeFalk, the last descendent of the Norman warrior. Two long lines of history collided here and Joshua wondered if they would end with Gerry, the male descendent who would inherit the entailed land if he and Perry remained childless.
When had the curse begun? The records showed that the myth of the Beast of Arundale had begun as a story told during the Norman possession of the land. Many had called the first DeFalk a wolf, saying he slew his enemies with long claws and sharp teeth rather than a sword.
Such stories might have been dismissed but for one thing. It had continued with every passing generation. The curse had been something brought to England from the distant French shores and passed on to him and his brother.
Joshua yanked his hand away from the stone. Better to stop his line entirely than let the curse continue.
That was his thought as the front door opened and Elizabeth stepped out to welcome him.
No other woman, in England or anywhere else, could hold him the way she did. At eighteen she’d been pretty, with soft brown hair and sympathetic brown eyes. Now she was a grown woman with the grace that may come with age. Her hair was still long, but up in a severe hairstyle he’d seen on women in London and disliked on his wife. She wore a simple dress, no fancy gown. Her face had grown thinner over the years and he noted that her dress fitted her loosely, almost enveloped her. He didn’t like her pale complexion or tightly gripped fingers.
He wanted her to run down the stairs and fling herself into his arms. For a moment he thought he noted a longing, a desperate desire in her steady gaze, but it flickered and died away instantly. But what had he expected? He’d abandoned her with the burden he himself had barely been able to carry alone.
A flurry of feminine ribbons and petticoats attacked him.
“Joshua, you’re home,” a woman cried and he almost stumbled from the force of her welcome.
“Melinda,” he said sedately and removed her arms. She’d always embarrassed him as a gauche boy and it seemed that hadn’t changed.
He immediately noted that Melinda’s clothes were much more fashionable and newer than his wife’s. His eyes narrowed. His cousin’s outfit had cost quite a bit and, by the smell of her, she skimped on nothing including her perfume. “I would like to greet my wife,” he said coldly.