Daughter of Darkness (22 page)

The song had a happy sound, and a fast rhythm that set their feet tapping. The chorus, a tongue-twister, was picked up by Gerard. It then became a contest as it was repeated at a faster pace by Willow. Eventually, breathless and laughing they both admitted defeat.

‘It’s a wonder the lady had enough breath left to fly,’ Ambrose remarked. Gerard had surprised him by joining Willow in song. His eldest son was usually bored by simple drawing room pleasures. Could it be that Willow’s personality was beginning to exert an influence over him? He hoped so. It wouldn’t hurt Gerard to relax a little in private.

‘I have news,’ Gerard said, when his breathing returned to normal.

‘Of James Langland?’ Setting the harp on a table, Willow drew the kitten into her lap and edged forward in her seat, gazing at Gerard with eager expectancy. ‘You’ve discovered his whereabouts? Is he well?’

‘I have news of the day’s events for my father first.’ He’d also received news of a different sort, a perturbing document Charles Addison had found on the body of a murdered man. The letter was written by the deceased husband of Daphne de Vere, containing an accusation. Even if its truth was verified, the news must remain his secret. With the greatest difficulty, he put it from his mind and concentrated on the matter at hand. He couldn’t resist the urge to tease Willow a little. ‘James Langland’s affairs occupy only a small part of it. As he’s of such little importance, I shall leave him until last.’

‘Of course, Gerard. I just thought… ?’ Giving a small sigh, she settled disconsolately back in her chair and plucked at a lace-edged handkerchief. ‘Your own news must take precedence.’

He’d not expected such a reaction. The disappointment in her eyes, and the dejected slump to her shoulders nudged immediately at his conscience. ‘Do not take my words to heart, Willow. I sought only to tease… ?’

‘No, no.’ The handkerchief was applied daintily to the corner of each eye. ‘It was presumptuous of me to expect my curiosity to be appeased, even though you exacted payment beforehand.’

Exacted payment!
She was referring to the song, of course. He clapped the heel of his hand against his forehead. She’d regarded it as an obligation he would honor. How insecure she was. ‘With my father’s permission, I will tell you of James Langland first. I had intended— ‘

‘Pray, do not.’ Her voice quavered slightly, as if she were about to cry. ‘The affairs of men must surely be of more importance than that of a mere woman.’ The handkerchief covered her mouth and a small choking noise came from her.

Afraid she was about to burst into tears Gerard produced a letter from his pocket and waved it hurriedly in the air. ‘I
insist
on giving you news of your tutor first.’

His father gave a great guffaw of laughter, alerting him to the fact his wife’s tears were actually giggles. The immediate jolt to his pride brought a sensation of affront before he admitted to himself his attitude was stuffy in the extreme. The fact that he felt a fool, was nothing to the fool he’d look if he stood on his dignity. His grin was ironic as he allowed himself to relax. ‘You owe me a ribbon, I believe. If I’m to be made a fool of, I would have the world know it.’

‘That doesn’t seem fair.’ She handed over her handkerchief instead. ‘You do not wear furbelows. Were you to make a fool of me, I’d have no means of letting the world know.’

‘As the game seems totally one-sided, it matters not.’ He slid the token inside his waistcoat, close to his heart. Engaging her eyes in a more personal manner, he saw the merriment replaced by a shy awareness. She was not resisting her seduction, but had recognized its inevitability and decided to enjoy it. A thrill of anticipation raced through him when he saw the opportunity to spend some time alone with Willow. ‘I go to London soon on business,’ he murmured. ‘I’d be happy if you’d accompany me?’

‘I do not overly like London.’ Flattered by the disappointment flaring in his eyes, she smiled a trifle smugly. ‘However, if you desire my company… ?’

It wasn’t her company he desired, and the minx knew it. His mouth widened into a rueful grin when she gave a breathless giggle. She was going to make him work for his conquest of her, and was letting him know it. For that, he’d keep her in suspense about James Langland a little longer.

‘The roads will be impassable if it rains heavily,’ Ambrose warned. ‘It’s not a journey to be undertaken lightly at this time of year.’

‘We’ll take horses,’ Gerard said, unfolding the lawyer’s letter. ‘Willow can ride as well as any man, and better than most.’

It was the greatest compliment he could have paid her. Watching her glow with happiness at the praise, Ambrose caught his son’s glance and smiled. Gerard had more skill with women than he’d imagined, and the patience of a hunter. Leaning back in his chair, Ambrose closed his eyes and listened to what he had to say. He learned of the Squire’s untimely death, of the birth of Annie Tupworthy’s son and Sapphire’s involvement in it.

The news of James Langland’s incarceration in debtors prison on charges brought by the marquis, prompted an outraged gasp from Willow. Her indignant manner towards her tutor’s ill treatment was jumbled up with her gratitude to Gerard for getting him released. She had the childlike innocence her mother had once had, and he hoped she’d never be forced to lose it. Ambrose grew drowsy as he often did of late. He drifted into a contented state of half-wakefulness, then opened his eyes and smiled when he heard his younger son come into the room. Jeffrey is growing into manhood fast, he thought. I must consult with Gerard about his future. It seems like only yesterday the lad was born and already his voice deepens with maturity.

‘Captain Dowling is in the study, Gerard. He wishes to see you most urgently.’ Jeffrey’s face lit up when he saw Willow. ‘Brian O’Shea is going to allow me put the new stallion through his paces in the morning. Will you come and watch?’

‘Nothing on earth will prevent me, Jeffrey. I’ll bring Edward to watch. He idolizes you, and will be most upset if he misses seeing his riding master in action.’

‘Then I’d best make sure I stay on the beast’s back.’ Jeffrey’s grin indicated he wasn’t at all displeased with the notion of being idolized.

‘Am I to be included as a spectator of this event?’ Ambrose had a sudden urge to see his younger son break the new stallion to the saddle. He’d taught both of his sons to ride and took pride in their ability. He smiled at the astonished eyes that gazed at him. ‘I’m heartily sick of being confined to the house, Willow.’

‘Of course you are, dearest father.’ Willow blinked away her tears at the imagined reprimand. ‘I’ve been selfish. First I bully you because you do not improve as quickly as I’d like, then when you do improve I fuss like an overprotective hen with a chick to look after. Why did you not advise me of my shortcomings sooner?’

Gerard chuckled at the notion she put forward.

‘Because you have no shortcomings in his eyes, only perfection.’

She smiled as Gerard bent over her hand, then curled her fingers around the warm imprint his kiss left there. Had she possessed the courage, she’d have placed a kiss of her own in the indentation between his eye and the dark line of hair. She experienced a flutter of breathless anticipation at the thought. ‘Will you attend also, Gerard? If Jeffrey’s going to show off his riding skills he must have a worthy audience.’

‘I’d not miss it for the world.’ He grinned as he slapped his brother on the shoulder. ‘You must excuse me. The matter Captain Dowling wishes to discuss must be urgent if he disturbs me at this hour. It’s almost dusk.’

‘The matter is thus,’ Anthony said as soon as Gerard stepped into the study. ‘This afternoon, Reverend Pollock named your household in his sermon. He said you were harboring a sorceress in your midst, a woman called Sapphire.’

Gerard gave him a startled glance. ‘The man must be mad to try and incite fear amongst the peasantry. He must be stopped.’

‘He
has
been stopped,’ Anthony said grimly. ‘He’s just been reported dead.’ The officer spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘A witness said a raven flew at his horse and it threw him. His neck was broken.’

‘A coincidence,’ Gerard said with more confidence than he felt.

Anthony shrugged. ‘It’s rumored your guest has the evil eye, and the raven is her familiar. Your family could be in great danger.’

‘From the villagers, you mean?’ It was not uncommon for the poorer classes to join forces. All it took was a general feeling of discontent, and someone, or
something
to incite them. The peasantry in this part of the country were superstitious. Gerard surmised they’d stay safely at home whilst they imagined evil stalked the countryside looking for victims. ‘I do not think we’re in immediate danger. They’ll lack leadership if Pollock is dead.’

Well aware of Sapphire’s reputation, Gerard had not observed her as anything out of the ordinary. She was unobtrusive in her ways, well liked by those who had contact with her. Willow had formed a friendship with her. Even his grandmother—a lady of good sense—seemed approving of her presence. Because of Sapphire’s acquaintance with his father, she’d been given the protection of the house. Gerard was duty bound to honor that. Crossing to the window he stared out at the fading light. ‘If you wish to speak to our guest and put your fears at rest I’ll ask if she’ll be good enough to attend you in the study.’

There was a mist coming off the sea. Though he’d watched it roll in many times before in the familiar surrounds of his home, his heightened imagination found it somewhat sinister. Goosebumps prickled up his spine. Something unexplainable was going on and he was unhappy about it. The fact was, the occurrences had only started after Sapphire had arrived. ‘I cannot see what the woman has done to be vilified by the preacher,’ he mused. ‘The only time she left the estate without my wife as companion was to give aid to a woman suffering in childbirth today. If that’s casting an evil eye, every midwife in the county must be guilty of it.’ The eyes that sought Anthony’s were half-amused and half-serious. ‘The child was not born with cloven feet and horns upon his forehead, I wager?’

‘Not to my knowledge.’ The officer smiled nervously. ‘I do not see the need to question your guest. It’s a rum business, though. I’m uncertain of how to proceed with the investigation.’

‘As am I,’ Gerard said grimly. ‘The matter may die down now there’s no fuel to feed it.’ Crossing to the bell rope, he rang for a servant. ‘You’ll accept the hospitality of my house and stay the night, Captain?’ His lips twisted in a wry grin as he turned to face the officer. ‘I must request that you do not discuss this matter outside these four walls. I would not have the ladies alarmed.’

‘Of course not, My Lord.’ Anthony gave a relieved smile. ‘Thank you Sir. I admit I was not looking forward to the return journey with no moon to light the way.’

After giving instructions to the servant he’d summoned, Gerard turned back to the man and inspected him from head to toe. ‘My servant will clean the dust from your uniform before we go to the drawing room.’

Later, as Gerard sprawled on his back on the vast bed he occupied, he sought to isolate the quality that drew men to Willow. Anthony Dowling had been instantly smitten by her. He’d become so tongue-tied in her presence that his grandmother had fixed him with a stare and asked him if all his family suffered from stammering.

In his father’s eyes Willow could do no wrong, as if she were a favored daughter. He enjoyed seeing the rapport between his wife and his father. Her affection for the earl was genuine, and his father responded to it.

Jeffrey would lay down his life for her, he’d wager. The thought brought a frown to his face. How far Jeffrey would go to defend her against himself was a matter for speculation, and one he did not wish to put to the test. His brother was at an age when the hot blood of youth took precedence over rational thought. What the lad needed… ? He grinned as an image of the girl at Anthony Dowling’s lodging came into his mind. She was exactly what Jeffrey needed!

As for himself? Although he considered himself lucky that Willow was pleasing to the eye, he was too experienced a campaigner to fall under her spell. She was his wife for one reason only, to provide the estate with heirs. The words of the gatekeeper came to his mind and he scowled. Was the Lynchcross blood tainted? What if she did prove to be barren? What if the accusation contained in the letter from Eduard Lynchcross was true, and not the ramblings of an insane mind? Could he have fathered young Edward the night before he’ d left for America?

Grabbing up a candle, he slipped from his room and strode resolutely along the carpeted corridor and up the stairs to the top of the house. A night-light burned on the nursery table. From the vicinity of the maid’s room came the sound of snoring. He crept into the room that held the sleeping form of Edward, and gazed down at the boy with troubled eyes.

It was several minutes before he retraced his steps. The house was quiet and dark. Only the eyes of his ancestors in the portrait gallery watched his progress. Reflecting the gleam of candlelight, their eyes seemed to follow him. Old friends, they bothered Gerard not a bit. Pausing in front of the fourth earl, he whispered. ‘What would you do if Edward was
your
bastard?’

The fourth earl remained silent. Clearly, Gerard heard a door close. It came from the North wing where Willow slept. Why she’d chosen to accommodate herself in such miserable quarters was beyond his comprehension. The wing was supposed to be haunted by the ghosts of a manservant and that of his lover, who’d been the wife of one of the earls. Legend had it, the lovers had been locked in a secret room concealed behind a tapestry and left to starve to death.

Uneasily, he wondered if Willow had inherited an interest in the occult. Was that why she’d isolated herself, so she could remain unobserved whilst practising the unholy rites? His mouth stretched in a tight grin as he realized his imagination was getting the better of him. He was about to return to his chamber when the sound of slippered feet whispered along the corridor. The hairs lifted on the back of his neck. It proved to be no ghostly visitation, however. Candle snuffed, he drew back into the shadows and observed the cloaked figure of Kitty Adams glide silently past. Off to meet Brian O’Shea, he imagined, leaving her mistress alone and unattended.