The Disappearing Duchess (18 page)

Lucinda saw too easily what had happened. Mrs Mann had written to her cousin and told her of the wedding. Sir John learned of it from his housekeeper. Had
he
blackmailed her the first time—or had his nephew
been privy to his secrets even before he died? Had they plotted it together?

Lucinda’s thoughts went round and round in her head. Her friends were laughing, talking of the summer weather and the parties to be held locally, but their chatter was a muted blur.

She looked at Mr Royston, meeting the challenge of his gaze steadily. Why had he come here today? Was it to warn her that he knew of the blackmail and wanted his money?

The visit seemed to go on for much longer than was usually felt polite. For Lucinda it was sheer torment. She was relieved when Mr Royston at last took his leave, though she was sorry to see her friends follow soon after.

‘Thank goodness he has gone,’ Mariah said as soon as the three of them were alone. ‘He makes my skin creep.’

‘You mean Mr Royston?’

‘Of course.’ Mariah laughed. ‘He was always coming here before I was married, snooping about and spying on us. He asked me to marry him once and I turned him down. Even if he had a fortune—which he doesn’t despite inheriting his uncle’s estate—I should never accept an offer from him.’

‘I had met him only once previously at our ball,’ Lucinda said, careful to hide her feelings. ‘He had not called on us before. I wondered why he’d chosen to visit now.’

Mariah laughed carelessly. ‘Oh, I suppose he knows Winston left me a fortune and thinks I might be fool enough to let him have it to gamble away.’

‘Is he a gambler?’ Justin asked, looking thoughtful.

‘I know his uncle was a terrible gambler. He was ruthless when he was on a winning streak, but I’ve heard he lost too much at the tables and was forced to retire to the country some months back.’

‘In financial trouble?’ Justin arched his brows. ‘Where did you hear that, Mariah?’

‘Oh, somewhere,’ she said airily. ‘If you will excuse me, I must go upstairs. I have some letters to write before dinner. Perhaps you would frank them for me, Justin?’

‘Yes, of course,’ he said and stood up as she rose and left. When the door closed behind her, his gaze turned to Lucinda. ‘You were distressed when Royston spoke of his uncle. Will you tell me why?’

She hesitated, tempted to keep her thoughts to herself for a while, then raised her head to meet his gaze. ‘Sir John Marston was my father’s closest friend—or so I thought until the night he…attacked me.’

‘It was he that…?’ Justin swore beneath his breath. ‘The damned rogue! Do you think the nephew knows what happened?’

‘I think Mrs Mann may have written to her cousin with the news of our wedding, as was only natural…’ Lucinda faltered as she saw his frown. ‘It would have
been innocent gossip, Justin. Somehow Sir John learned of the wedding and then…’

‘He decided to blackmail you and had his letter taken to your room on our wedding day.’ Justin’s eyes glittered with contempt. ‘But then he became ill and died recently. The new letter must have come from his nephew. I had noticed slight differences in the hand. Yes, I think I have it clear. Royston must have tried to copy his uncle’s writing to fool you.’ He was silent for a moment, thoughtful. ‘I must question Mrs Mann. I need to know who delivered these letters and when another arrives I shall interview the messenger.’

‘Another?’ Lucinda was alarmed, the colour leaving her face.

‘Of course. There will be a letter instructing you to place the money somewhere secret—which you will do after showing the message to me. I shall watch to see who collects the package and have him or her followed.’

‘What will you do then?’

‘You may safely leave that to me, Lucinda.’

‘Yes, Justin, if you wish.’ She looked at him awkwardly. ‘I am so sorry to give you so much trouble. You must be wishing that you had never met me.’

His expression hardly altered as he answered. ‘There have been moments when I have felt it might have been better for us both, but there is no point in looking back. You are my wife and we must make the best of what we have.’

The regret in his voice and the barely held expression
of pain in his eyes struck Lucinda to the heart. She saw now that she had wronged him terribly by accepting his offer of marriage, without first telling him of her situation. Turning her head, she hid the tears that stung her eyes. She had asked Justin several times if he wished her to leave, but he had made it clear that he preferred her to stay, for the sake of his family name.

‘Yes, I know I have behaved badly towards you,’ she said in a small voice. ‘Have you decided what you wish to do concerning Angela?’

‘The servants believe that she is your cousin’s child,’ Justin said. ‘She must certainly go to school soon—a school for the children of gentlefolk who cannot be with their offspring. I have heard of a very good place in the south of Devon. There she will be cared for properly and learn her manners so that one day you may bring her here as your guest. We may even find a suitable husband for her. Whatever, she will want for nothing.’

‘You are…generous.’

Justin’s gaze narrowed as he looked at her ‘What else can we do, Lucinda? You must know I cannot allow you to keep the child here whilst that man is at liberty to ruin you?’

‘I suppose you cannot,’ she said. ‘Excuse me, Justin. I should go up to change for dinner.’

‘Listen to me, please.’ He caught her arm as she would have passed him. ‘Do not look so miserable, Lucinda. I can promise nothing at this time but—if it
becomes possible—in time we might take her into the house as the child of your cousin.’

‘Do you mean that?’ Her voice caught, a faint spark of hope making her look at him eagerly. ‘She is happy enough with Alice in the schoolroom—but if she must go so far away and live with strangers…’ Her voice caught again and she could not go on. ‘Forgive me, I shall need a little time to accustom myself…’

‘Lucinda, I am not a monster. I do not wish to hurt you. Believe me, if there were any other way…’

‘Yes, I know you are not to blame. Had I been honest with you at the start, this would not have happened.’

She broke away from him, walking quickly to the door and up the stairs towards her own apartments. It would break her heart to part with Angela, but she loved Justin, too, and she knew that she owed him the respect due to his name and position in society. He was trying to protect her from her own folly. She ought never to have brought the child here. Had she found herself work as a seamstress and let Justin divorce her, the harm would have been so much less. To leave him now and expose her shame to the world would be wilful cruelty and she could not do it—even though she must suffer another parting from her darling daughter. Angela would be safe and well educated, and perhaps one day they might spend a little time together.

* * *

Justin swore as the door closed softly behind her. He was angry with himself for hurting her yet again—but what else could he do? Royston had a vicious tongue and
a vast circle of friends. If he chose to ruin Lucinda, he could do it simply by letting a few hints drop about the similarity between the child and Justin’s bride. Nothing need be confirmed; innuendo would be enough to bring shame on both Lucinda and the proud name of Avonlea.

If it were only his name that would suffer, he would say be damned to the gossips and let them do their worst—but Lucinda would bear the brunt of society’s censure. Had the child looked less like his wife he would have acknowledged her as his love child; a man in his position might be bold and ride out the storm—but Lucinda had risen high from lowly beginnings and the spiteful tabbies would take pleasure in knocking her down. He had to protect her somehow.

Justin would make further inquiries about the school and in a few weeks he would take the child there himself and make certain she was cared for in the appropriate way. He wished the girl no harm for he had seen she was sweet and beautiful and she was his wife’s daughter. Justin must and would do all he could to make her life happy and comfortable.

In the meantime he must exercise his thoughts in the matter of Mr Royston. The man could not be allowed to get away with threatening Lucinda, but this business must be handled with care. Sir John Marston had been a gambler and, if Mariah were to be believed, there was probably little of his estate left for his nephew to inherit. If Royston was also a gambler, it might be possible to
find a way of ensuring that he was willing to disappear and cause no trouble for Lucinda or Justin.

First he had to discover if Royston was responsible for the blackmail. However, he did not imagine the man would wait long to claim what he clearly thought was his by right—almost an inheritance since the information had come to him from his uncle.

* * *

Justin was right in thinking the blackmailer would not wait long before making his next move. Mrs Mann had declared that she knew nothing of any unpleasant letters delivered to the duchess’s apartments and instructed the maids that any letters delivered by hand were to be given to her before being taken up to Lucinda’s room. Since Alice knew nothing of this arrangement, having been excluded by the housekeeper, a letter was taken straight to Mrs Mann two days later in the morning. She went immediately to Justin’s library, the maid following her close behind. A description of the messenger was given. He had been kept waiting at the back porch for an answer, which Justin supplied after taking one glance at the distinctive script.

‘Yes, this is what I wished for,’ he said with a curt nod as he tore open the plain seal of wax and read the instructions. ‘You may tell the messenger there is no answer, Milly.’

‘Yes, your Grace,’ Milly said and hesitated, then, ‘If your Grace pleases, I know the lad.’

Justin had risen, prepared to follow the boy to his master. Now his gaze narrowed intently. ‘Who sent him?’

‘I do not know that, sir—but he is Farmer Jenkins’s second son and the Jenkins family farms land that belonged to Mr Royston.’

Justin held back the exclamation of triumph that rose to his lips. He nodded his head, waited until the girl had gone before looking at his housekeeper thoughtfully.

‘Milly has been useful, Mrs Mann. You may give her an extra two shillings in her wages this month.’

‘Thank you, sir. Do you wish me to continue to intercept the duchess’s letters?’

‘For the time being—but only those that arrive with no franking. I wish to save my wife the distress of reading spiteful letters, Mrs Mann. However, I have no intention of censoring her letters from friends.’

‘Yes, sir. I understand. I must say that whomever it is deserves to be punished for distressing her Grace. The duchess is very young, sir, but everyone likes her—and I know she has tried hard to do what is expected since you returned and reminded her of her duties. It was simply that at the start she did not know what was expected of her.’

‘Quite. Thank you. You may go, Mrs Mann.’

Justin frowned as the housekeeper left. Had she been reproaching him for his neglect of Lucinda at the start of their marriage? Was there an atmosphere in the house? Servants picked up on these things and if Mrs Mann had taken Lucinda’s side he must have been harsher than he’d realised.

Remembering the look in his wife’s eyes when they’d
spoken of the best thing for the child, Justin felt a stab of pain. How could he hurt the wife he loved so cruelly? Yet what else could he do? The question went round and round in his head. Surely there must be another way—something that did not cause Lucinda so much grief. She did not deserve to be punished for something that was not her fault.

It had surprised Justin that Lucinda should accept Mariah into her home with both warmth and kindness. He had known at once that Mariah had intended mischief, at least a flirtation, and possibly an affair—and if she could manage it, an estrangement between Justin and his duchess. Whether she had hoped to wed him herself after a decent time had passed he did not know, but she had certainly resented another woman in what she thought of as her home.

However, he had seen a change in Mariah these past few days. She seemed to have ceased her attempts to upstage Lucinda and, instead of trying to put her in the shade, seemed almost to champion her—as if Lucinda’s sweetness had won her over.

Justin felt a savage cut of grief surge through him. He knew an urgent longing to run upstairs, take his wife into his arms and beg her to forgive him. Had he not believed it was impossible he would have allowed her to keep the child, because he wanted her to have everything that would make her happy. He missed that shy smile she had once saved for him, which he saw now only rarely.

A little voice at the back of his mind told Justin that it might be achieved if he were willing to put his seal of authority on the child as her cousin’s daughter and be damned to the gossips. It would take courage and determination, but it might be done if he wished for it—but first he must be certain that Royston could not ruin Lucinda. Innuendo and gossip was one thing, proof another.

A plan began to form in his mind—one that might make Royston careless and thus trap him into making a mistake. For the moment he could tell only one person. Everyone else must believe that the child had gone away to school.

A grim look on his mouth, Justin went upstairs to speak to Alice. His wife’s maid would need to be willing to help her mistress and keep a secret or his plan would not work.

I
t was the morning of Jane Lanchester’s fête. At least, it was in reality the church fête held every year at this time, but Jane was the mainstay in running it. Jane decided on how many stalls there should be, what entertainment could be got for the pleasure of the villagers, in particular the children. Lucinda had agreed not only to open the fête, but also to purchase and present the small prizes for the children’s games and races.

She rose early that morning and spent the first hour or two in walking to her friend’s home to discuss lastminute arrangements with her and to help set up some of the stalls. The fête was held in Lord Lanchester’s large park and it was there that the stalls had been set up. All manners of things were on sale, ranging from beautiful cakes and sweets made by the village women, and also some from Jane’s kitchens.

‘I like to make sugared fruits, brittle toffee and
marchpane treats for the children to buy with their pocket money. I dare say they cost more to make than the halfpenny we charge for a paper twist of sweets. However, that hardly matters. I would gladly give them away, but the money goes to the church fund. We must not forget that the church needs money and the fête is primarily for that purpose—though I love to see the children’s pleasure.’

‘Well, they may win a prize of sweets, also little gifts like a peg doll or a tin whistle,’ Lucinda said, looking about her with pleasure. ‘I shall enjoy opening the fête, though I wish…’ She ended on a sigh.

‘What is it, dearest?’ Jane asked, looking at her with concern. ‘Sometimes you seem so unhappy.’

‘I should like to take Angela to the fête. She has never been to anything of the kind and it would be good for her to mix with other children.’

‘Why can you not bring your cousin’s child? I am sure there is nothing wrong in that,’ Jane said. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Lucinda’s face. ‘What is it—she isn’t…oh, Lucinda, is it so?’

Lucinda nodded, for she knew that Jane had guessed the truth. ‘Yes. My parents lied. They gave her away and I did not find her until a few months ago, soon after my wedding. I dare not tell anyone, though Justin knows.’

‘Will he allow you to keep her?’

‘Only until he can make arrangements for her welfare. She is to go to a good school until she is older, when she may be allowed to visit—and her future will
be arranged, either as a governess or a decent marriage to a sensible man.’

‘Oh, Lucinda, how wretched for you,’ Jane said, all ready sympathy. ‘You will never see her—at least very seldom.’

‘It is breaking my heart,’ Lucinda said and blinked hard. ‘Yet I know it is the right thing for her—and Justin is considerate to do so much for us.’

‘I know many would think so, but I feel it is unkind to separate you.’ Jane touched her hand. ‘If you should need help, I am always here for you, my dear friend.’

‘At one time I did think of leaving and taking her,’ Lucinda admitted. ‘I could not do it, Jane. It would hurt and shame Justin. No, it is not to be thought of. I must bear it—and so must she, though I know it will distress her.’

‘You are very brave,’ Jane said. ‘If you ever wish to visit her without asking Justin, come to me and I shall arrange it.’

‘Perhaps we could—but he might hear of the visit and be angry. No, it is not to be thought of. I have shamed and hurt him enough. Please, may we speak of the fête?’

‘Yes, of course. Forgive me.’

The conversation was turned. Lucinda had arranged to spend the day with her friend, helping to get everything prepared for the fête. After a light lunch they changed their gowns to be ready for the afternoon.

* * *

Lucinda was nervous as the time for her speech grew close, but she held her head high as she went up to the
little dais and took her place. Everyone had been laughing and talking, but there was a respectful silence as she stepped forwards.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, friends,’ she said in her soft sweet voice. ‘I am so happy to be here with you today and to open your fête for you. I am, as many of you know, the very new and inexperienced wife to the Duke of Avonlea. However, I am a very simple person and I enjoy simple pleasures. The fête is meant for everyone to enjoy and I hope that it will be embraced by all: ladies, lords and village folk, and especially the children. There are races and games for the children and lots of little prizes for them. I shall enjoy presenting these prizes and hope that all the children will enter. I am certain that they may all win something. As for the rest of you, we are here to raise money for the church and I hope everyone will give something—and that those amongst us that have money to spare will give generously. There is also a prize of a pig for the tug of war, which the duke will present as always, and a barrel of beer for the archery contest. I declare the fête open, so please enjoy yourselves.’

A round of applause greeted her as she stepped back and then somewhere music started as a fiddler began a merry jig. An organ grinder was also playing a loud tune, his monkey performing tricks for pennies, and the seesaws and swings were soon in full swing. People moved from stall to stall, trying to guess how many beans were in a jar, throwing balls at an Aunt Sally
and shooting arrows at a target. Children were running, taking part in games of jumping and throwing, ball games, and blind-man’s buff and many other forms of amusement. The smell of roasting suckling pig and hot pies was drifting on the air, and children were bobbing for apples and sucking gingerbread and large sticky humbugs purchased from the stall that sold all manner of treats.

It was a warm afternoon and the scent of roses and honeysuckle seemed to drift above the other enticing smells whenever a breeze blew from the direction of Jane’s precious gardens. Busy applauding the children and presenting prizes, Lucinda had no chance to regret that she had not been able to bring her daughter. When she suddenly saw the child playing with others at a game of fishing with little rods for trinkets out of a glass tank, she felt a shock of pleasure mixed with apprehension. Alice and her sister Marie had brought the child; they had not asked her permission, nor had they told her of their intention. Had they done so she would have refused, much though it would have hurt her to do so. However, now that the child was here, she could not bring herself to send her away.

As yet she had seen nothing of Justin and did not know if he meant to put in a brief appearance before the end of the afternoon. She could only hope now that he would not, but her hopes were dashed as a little later she saw him walking towards her, a look of disapproval on his handsome face. Her pulses raced at the sight of
him. She loved her husband so very much and she hated to be always quarrelling with him.

Please let him not be angry again, Lucinda prayed silently. It had been a happy day and she did not wish to argue with him. He had Mariah on his arm and she guessed that it was their guest who had prevailed upon him to visit. Lucinda had asked if she would come, but Mariah had not known if she could be bothered.

‘These fêtes are all the same,’ she’d said in a bored voice. ‘One is obliged to attend if one is opening the thing, but otherwise they are sorry stuff.’

Now she was here and Justin with her—and he had seen Angela with Alice and her sister. Lucinda braced herself. He would not scold her here, but she would feel his displeasure.

‘Duchess—Lucinda.’ Andrew Lanchester’s voice cut into her thoughts. ‘What a splendid afternoon. Are you enjoying yourself? But I need not ask. You have been wonderful with the children and much admired. Ah, here comes Justin and the lovely Mariah. I shall tell him what a success his duchess is with the common folk.’

‘Lucinda,’ Mariah said before he could speak. ‘You look flushed, dearest. Have you been playing games with the children? Everyone is singing your praises, telling us how good you are with them, and how much you are admired.’

Lucinda’s flushed cheeks might have been due to another reason, but she smiled and said, ‘You are right
to think that I enjoy seeing children enjoying themselves, Mariah. I know the fête is to raise money for the church, but it is good to see children happy, do you not think so?’

‘I suppose so,’ Mariah replied, still looking bored.

Andrew smiled at Lucinda and then offered Mariah his arm. ‘Come, my lady, will you not allow me to show you some of the delights of the fête? Perhaps I could buy you a bag of toffee or some such delight?’

Mariah raised her brows. ‘Really, Lanchester—do you imagine I should want sticky toffee?’

‘Perhaps a cup of iced lemonade in the house?’ he said and drew her away, leaving Lucinda alone with her husband.

Justin looked at her oddly. ‘What did you mean by bringing Angela here?’

‘I would not have done so without asking your permission, Justin. I fear that Alice acted on her own impulse. I will, of course, have a stern word with her. I will instruct her to take Angela back to Avonlea.’

‘I dare say it has done no harm. Most people don’t seem to have made any connection between you two as yet—but should spiteful tongues begin to wag it would be a different matter. I believe I shall take her to the place I told you of next week.’

Lucinda blinked hard, her nails curving into her palms. ‘If you think it best, Justin.’

‘Pray do not look at me as if I am a monster,’ he said stiffly. ‘You know we have no choice for the moment.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Lucinda struggled to control her distress, though the tears were burning behind her eyes. ‘Excuse me, Justin. I believe Jane needs me. I shall see you this evening.’

‘Perhaps one day she may visit us—and sooner than you imagine. I shall speak to you at home. Please come to the study before dinner.’

‘Yes, if you wish.’ Lifting her head, Lucinda walked away. She wanted nothing more than to hide away and weep.

* * *

How proud and beautiful Lucinda looked. Justin frowned. Mariah was right to say that everyone was praising her. If only he could cast aside his own doubts and show Lucinda how deeply he had come to care for her.

He blamed himself for the breach between himself and his wife. Justin was not an unjust man and the hurt look in her eyes when he’d spoken of taking her child to school had struck him to the heart. Yet what else could he do? If he allowed the child to remain rumours might start and it only needed a few words from Royston for a tale to spread. Only if he could catch Royston out would he be able to protect his wife from the man’s spiteful tongue.

Royston would be careful not to let Justin know of the blackmail—but he might not be as careful of another. His brow furrowing, Justin glanced towards Andrew Lanchester standing in the sun and laughing with Mariah.

Could he trust Lanchester with Lucinda’s secret? He was certain that Jane Lanchester knew the truth, but he believed she would not have confided in her brother. Alone, Justin might find it difficult to trap the blackmailer, but with Andrew’s help a plan might be worked out. It might mean that Andrew Lanchester would not think quite so highly of Lucinda—but that was surely a small price to pay. He would not disclose the secret to another, of that much Justin was certain.

Yet perhaps he would be wronging Lucinda by revealing her secret to a man she liked. Justin swore beneath his breath. It was not his secret to reveal. He must ask for Lanchester’s help, but without revealing Lucinda’s shame—not for his pride’s sake, but for hers.

Glancing about him, Justin saw that his wife was not to be seen. He frowned, wondering where she had gone and why she had left the fête when she had seemed to be enjoying herself so much.

* * *

Lucinda took sanctuary in Lord Lanchester’s beautiful summerhouse. She sat on a padded couch and bent her head, burying her face in her hands. Justin’s harsh words had brought her almost to tears, but she had been determined to smile and carry on with her duties—until that hateful man had come up to her as she stood watching the egg-and-spoon race.

‘How charming and innocent the children look,’ Royston purred in a voice so soft and low that only she could hear. ‘And your daughter is enjoying herself so much. I wonder that your husband allows your shame
to be seen—unless he truly believes the lying tale you have put about in your household.’

Lucinda stared at him, feeling all the warmth and pleasure of the day drain away as she saw his spiteful gaze. ‘I do not understand you, sir. I think you are mistaken. I have no daughter.’

‘You may fool others, but you cannot deceive me,’ Royston said. ‘My uncle confessed his sin to the priest as he lay dying. I stood outside his bedchamber and listened, and then I looked through his things and found the evidence I needed. He had written down the date of your wedding and details of your daughter’s whereabouts, which he meant to sell to you for ten thousand pounds. However, he died before he could send the second letter. You surprised him when you ran off and found your daughter without his help.’

‘You are a liar, sir. I have no idea of what you speak.’ Lucinda was trembling inside, but she held herself proudly.

‘My uncle no longer needs your money to clear his gambling debts—but I have been cheated of my inheritance by his folly and I intend to recoup my losses from you. The price is now twenty thousand. Each week you delay will put the price up by five thousand pounds. If I were you, I should follow the instructions in the letter I sent or you will be very sorry.’

Lucinda had no idea what he meant and she was too distressed to ask. Lifting her head defiantly, she said,
‘Again, I say you are mistaken. You have no proof of your assertions, sir.’

‘That is where you are mistaken, Duchess. I have the sworn testimony of the doctor who delivered the child—and of a servant who took the child from the room.’

Lucinda swallowed hard. ‘It is only the word of paid servants against mine. I shall simply deny whatever you say.’

‘Such a story does not need to be proved,’ Royston replied. ‘A word here and there and your reputation is destroyed. People love a scandal and they will laugh behind their fans. Some will cut you, others will sneer at you—and you will find it impossible to make friends with respectable ladies.’