Read Desire Becomes Her Online
Authors: Shirlee Busbee
Desire Becomes Her (21 page)
Nolles stood up. But before he could turn his attention to the vexing John Lamb, there was the disposal of Canfield... . Hmm, now how, he wondered as he strolled out to join the patrons of his tavern, shall I do it? A slit throat? Or should I just shoot him? Hide the body or leave it to be discovered? He sighed. So many decisions ...
Chapter 11
I
t wasn’t until Tuesday morning, after Barnaby had left the morning room, that Emily and Cornelia turned their full attention to Mrs. Dashwood and the role she might or might not play in Luc’s affections. They had touched on the visit by Gillian Dashwood and her family on the drive home from Ramstone the previous day, but busy setting the events in motion that would insure Luc’s new home was staffed and his larders filled, they hadn’t been able to consider all the implications.
t wasn’t until Tuesday morning, after Barnaby had left the morning room, that Emily and Cornelia turned their full attention to Mrs. Dashwood and the role she might or might not play in Luc’s affections. They had touched on the visit by Gillian Dashwood and her family on the drive home from Ramstone the previous day, but busy setting the events in motion that would insure Luc’s new home was staffed and his larders filled, they hadn’t been able to consider all the implications.
After breakfasting with Emily and Cornelia, Barnaby departed for Eastbourne to inspect a new yacht, intending to be gone for the day. The door had hardly closed behind him before Emily set down her cup and asked, “What are we going to do about that woman? I fear that Luc may be falling under her spell.” She shuddered. “Good heavens—she murdered her husband. Has he lost his head? Doesn’t he see the danger?”
Cornelia looked thoughtful. “He may be fascinated by the woman, but I don’t believe that he has lost his head ... yet.” She sipped her coffee. “But that the Ordway family were his very first guests, and the only comment he can remember about his new home is hers, is telling.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I doubt we can do anything—not if Luc’s heart is set on her.”
Appalled, Emily breathed, “Oh Cornelia, you don’t think he would be foolish enough to marry her, do you?”
“When it comes to affairs of the heart, anything is possible, my dear.” She smiled at Emily. “Considering the circumstances, who’d have thought that you’d end up married to Barnaby?”
A blush climbed up Emily’s cheeks. “That was different! I wasn’t accused of murdering anyone.”
“Ah, and there you have it—no one has proven that she did murder her husband.” She bent a look on Emily. “How do we know that she
did
murder him? Obviously, there wasn’t enough evidence for the authorities to arrest her. All we know about the woman is what we’ve heard from gossip. And you know as well as anyone that most gossip holds only a grain of truth. What if she’s innocent? Do we condemn her based on gossip?”
did
murder him? Obviously, there wasn’t enough evidence for the authorities to arrest her. All we know about the woman is what we’ve heard from gossip. And you know as well as anyone that most gossip holds only a grain of truth. What if she’s innocent? Do we condemn her based on gossip?”
It was Emily’s turn to look thoughtful. Picking up her cup, she swallowed some coffee. Over the rim she regarded Cornelia and asked, “Do you think she’s innocent?”
“I don’t know,” Cornelia admitted. “I’ve never even met the woman. Now Penny Smythe has met her and likes her. She mentioned when she was here last week that she’s invited Mrs. Dashwood and her cousin, Mrs. Easley, to serve on several committees. Penny appears to find both women delightful. Which leads me to believe that Mrs. Dashwood must possess great charm.”
Emily thought about that for a few minutes. Penelope Smythe was a very good judge of character, and if the vicar’s wife liked Gillian Dashwood ... “Does Mrs. Smythe know about the murder?” Emily asked abruptly.
“I don’t know ... and no, I didn’t bring it up.”
“Why not, you know that Mrs. Smythe loves gossip.”
“Again I don’t know and usually I would have shared the gossip with Penny without another thought, but ...” She frowned. “I think it is the fact that Luc is so fond of Silas Ordway and that Penny herself had only good things to say about Mrs. Dashwood that kept my lips sealed.” Cornelia fiddled with her spoon. Unhappily, she said, “Remember, we don’t know that Mrs. Dashwood murdered her husband ... perhaps the gossip is all wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time that an innocent was vilified by half truths or even vicious lies.”
Emily nodded slowly. “And we don’t know that Luc has anything more than a passing interest in her—we may be running down the road to meet trouble and all for naught.”
“Perhaps. But I think we would be wise to meet the lady for ourselves.”
Emily perked up. Smiling, she asked, “Shall I have Mrs. Spalding prepare a basket with some of her strawberry preserves and some jars of honey from our hives?”
Cornelia’s hazel eyes danced. “Yes, I think it is only fitting that we call upon the newcomers and welcome them to the neighborhood, don’t you?” She shook a finger at Emily. “But not too soon. Luc is no fool. He would know what we were up to in a flash. Next week will be soon enough.”
Walker tapped on the door and sticking his head into the room, grinning, he said, “Mr. Simon Joslyn is here. Shall I show him in?”
“Without question,” Emily answered, smiling. She’d known Simon Joslyn since she’d been a child and Barnaby’s youngest cousin had always been a favorite of hers.
Simon strolled into the room a moment later, looking handsome enough to steal the heart of half the women in the British Isles. He had the stamp of the Joslyns about him, from his azure eyes and black hair to the tall, athletic build. There were those who thought his older brother, Mathew, handsomer, but gossip pegged Simon as the Most Handsome Man in England.
His dark blue coat of superfine fit his broad shoulders admirably and his buff breeches displayed a pair of nicely formed masculine legs. With a smile that could cause the most hardened feminine heart to beat faster on his lips, he dropped a familiar kiss on first Cornelia’s cheek, then Emily’s. Azure eyes striking between black lashes, he followed Cornelia’s order to help himself to coffee or what else from the sideboard caught his fancy.
After pouring himself a cup of coffee from the silver pot, he took a seat at the table and grinned at both women. “Now how could his lordship go off and leave a pair of beautiful ladies like you all alone? Surely, he knows that you’d be a tempting armful for any marauder that might wander by?”
“I think you forget that I am increasing,” Emily said, grinning back at him.
“Yes, and very nicely, too,” Simon murmured outrageously. Both Emily and Cornelia burst out laughing. Cornelia tapped him on the wrist with her spoon. “I see that your behavior has not improved since the last time we saw you.” There was no censure in her voice, only fond amusement. “But enough of this nonsense. Why are you here? Will you be staying long?”
“Actually,” Simon began, “I won’t be staying here at all.” At Emily’s and Cornelia’s look of surprise, he added hastily, “Not that I wouldn’t prefer to do so, but I am here with Lord Padgett and William Stanton. Padgett is interested in some horses that Lord Broadfoot has for sale; the three of us are staying at a small property nearby that Stanton inherited recently from his great-grandmother.” At Emily’s raised brow, he added wryly, “I know, I know. Broadfoot is the last person to buy a horse from, but Padgett is keen on a stallion that Broadfoot wishes to sell. We’re to meet with him at Broad View tomorrow afternoon.”
Emily frowned. “Padgett and Stanton? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you mention them before. Are they particular friends of yours?”
Simon made a face and shook his head. “Padgett and Stanton aren’t exactly the sort of gentlemen I want to be friends with—or that I’d introduce you to—and let’s leave it at that. I know Padgett, but not well—he was more Tom’s friend than mine.” He looked thoughtful, saying, “I’ll admit the invitation surprised me and initially I declined—I didn’t want to leave Mathew alone at Monks Abbey.” He grimaced. “But Mathew has been in such a surly mood this past week, I decided I’d better vacate Monks Abbey before one of us tried to kill the other.”
Her features concerned, Emily said, “Poor Mathew! I cannot be sorry for Thomas’s death, he would have murdered Barnaby and Lamb after all, but I am very sorry that Mathew hasn’t come to accept that what happened was not his fault.”
Simon nodded, his eyes bleak. “There are days he realizes that, but there are times ...”
He sighed. “There are times when he is best left alone.”
“Hmmm. Aren’t Padgett and Stanton also friends with Miles St. John?” Cornelia asked abruptly.
Surprised, Simon said, “Yes. Padgett, Stanton, St. John and, to some extent, Canfield were all members of Tom’s London set.”
Cornelia had a wide circle of friends that she kept in touch with by letter and hearing those names, she frowned. “Not one of them a person I’d be happy to see cross my threshold,” she muttered. “Welbourne’s whelp, Canfield, is the worst of the lot—he was at High Tower, but apparently a few days ago he took up residence at The Ram’s Head.”
“How do you know that?” Emily asked, puzzled.
Cornelia waved a dismissing hand. “Walker was at The Crown last night and Mrs. Gilbert told him. He mentioned it to Agatha and she told me.”
“Of course, nothing gets by Mrs. Gilbert,” Emily said ruefully. Agatha Colby had been Cornelia’s maid for decades, and the relationship between the two was close—anything Agatha knew, Cornelia knew and usually within minutes of Agatha learning of it.
“Well, I can’t say that I’m happy to learn that,” Simon admitted. “Padgett and Stanton are tolerable, but Canfield ...” He grinned at Emily. “I may end up begging you for a place to lay my head, after all.”
“Serves you right for accepting the invitation in the first place,” retorted Cornelia. Frowning, she said, “Padgett’s invitation is odd, though. I wonder why he invited you along.”
“Apparently, Padgett hasn’t ever been personally introduced to Lord Broadfoot, and since it’s well known that the Joslyn family and the Broadfoot family are friends and neighbors, Padgett thought that my presence would ease any constraints that might arise between virtual strangers.”
Cornelia nodded. “Lord Broadfoot is normally a genial gentleman, but having a stranger like Padgett come on too strong could put his back up. Padgett was wise to invite you along.”
For several moments the conversation was general, and having finished his coffee, Simon rose to his feet. “Ladies, I must be off.” His eyes danced. “I must go and prevent Padgett from buying a three-legged wonder from Broadfoot. Or is it a wind-broken, tied-at-the-knees pacer?”
“You’ll come to dine one night while you’re in the area, won’t you?” Emily begged.
“Be assured of it,” he replied. “Now where can I find Barnaby and Luc? It would be rude of me not to say hello to either one of them.”
Simon was disappointed that he had missed Barnaby, but the news that Luc was now the proud owner of Ramstone Manor delighted him. A smile spread across his face. “By Jupiter! This is excellent news.” He shook his head. “During the Season, London was all agog at the devilish luck of Lucifer Joslyn. I heard that one member of the peerage who should have known better left vowels lying on the table amounting to over thirty thousand pounds. Looks like Luc is investing his winnings wisely.” He laughed. “I suppose next you’ll tell me he’s hanging out for a wife.”
Already on his way out the door, Simon didn’t see the look the two ladies exchanged. The door shut behind him and Cornelia said, “Now, where were we?”
Emily grinned. “Planning to call upon Mrs. Dashwood next week.”
Unaware of the interest of the ladies of Windmere, Gillian and Sophia were settling in at High Tower. Stanley’s determination to put his best foot forward and the absence of Lord George Canfield made the process enjoyable. Of course, Uncle Silas was a dear, and Gillian berated herself daily for not having accepted his many invitations to visit in the years since Charles had been murdered.
She’d had her reservations about living at High Tower—she’d run her household without any male interference of any sort since Charles’s death, and she’d feared that living with Uncle Silas might be very different from
visiting
with him. To her gratification, Silas was as kind and considerate as always.
visiting
with him. To her gratification, Silas was as kind and considerate as always.
It was difficult for her after being married to Charles not to harbor the suspicion that behind a man’s smiling façade a monster hid. Not, she admitted hastily, that she’d worried her uncle would suddenly turn into a tyrant. In fact, he was entirely the opposite, telling both women that since they were the women of the house now, that he was turning over the reins of the household to them. His eyes twinkling, he’d added, “This has been a bachelor household for too long, and while my housekeeper, Mrs. Amerson, has always done an excellent job, I think she’ll be happier with a feminine hand at the helm. Meacham, of course, is already at your feet.”
And just that easily, Gillian and Sophia found themselves running the household at High Tower. To Gillian’s surprise, Stanley made no objections. In fact, there was much about Stanley these days that surprised her.
With Canfield gone, other than a friendly hand or two of cards and a snifter of brandy with Silas, Stanley no longer spent his nights gambling and drinking at the tavern in the village. Even more astonishing, her half brother appeared to be absorbed in learning as much as he could about the running of the estate and lifting that burden from his uncle. Some suspicion and curiosity about his motives remained, but both she and Mrs. Easley thought that his actions were sincere.
Happier than she had been for a very long time, Gillian woke each morning looking forward to the day. It was only her nights that were troublesome—vivid, disturbing dreams of Luc Joslyn brought her awake with her body aching and burning with elemental needs she’d never thought to feel again. Telling herself that she was a fool to give him more than a second’s thought did no good, nor no matter how often she scolded herself did it have any effect on those explicit dreams. Night after night, Luc came to her in dreams, his azure eyes glittering with desire and a carnal curve to his lips. Those same lips that in her dreams caressed her cheek before sliding warmly to find her mouth, kissing her deeply with a rough passion that swelled her nipples and sent desire spiraling through her.
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