The Rebel (40 page)

“…and so the treasure lies among you.” Lady
Spencer took Jane’s hand. “Miss Purefoy…yes, indeed…Miss Jane
Purefoy is the artist of these splendid works which we have all
being viewing so appreciatively.”

There was a very brief moment of silence,
and then someone started clapping from somewhere to her left. That
one person’s applause quickly spread, and Jane watched with utter
astonishment as every person in the room and around the door joined
in. As she turned to look at Alexandra, a loud conversational buzz
erupted around her.

Jane had no idea what to say or how to act.
This positive reception of her work was totally unexpected. But
what it was even more astounding was the way the guests immediately
approached her with congratulatory comments and questions about her
style and her subject matter.

Trying to answer whatever she could to the
best of her abilities, Jane searched for Alexandra at her side and
found the older woman wearing a proud smile and standing away from
her by a series of paintings she particularly liked. She glanced
again in Nicholas’s direction and found him raising his glass in a
toast to her.

“And what is this all about?” Lady Purefoy’s
cheerfully complaining tone rang out from the hallway. “What kind
of a ball is this where everyone deserts the dance floor and crowds
into parlors? Is there card playing going on in here? Come
now…”

A few guests shifted around and others
followed the hostess in.

“Oh yes,” she said. “Lady Spencer’s special
arrangement. I’d almost forgotten. What have we here?”

Catherine waved the fan she was holding and
peered about in surprise.

“Oh, my! Lady Spencer, are you in
there?”

“I’m here.”

The crowd around Jane parted and Catherine
Purefoy became slightly paler when she saw her older daughter
standing at the center of the crowd.

“Why, Jane! Whatever are you…?” She quickly
tried to recover her composure and looked at her houseguest. “Lady
Spencer…I thought when you said you wanted to use this room…I never
imagined that you meant…”

The hostess waved her hand vaguely at the
paintings and failed miserably at hiding her confusion. She shook
her head and tried to begin again.

“Ah, but Jane…dear…I did not know you had
returned!” she finally managed to get out.

Jane took a step toward her mother to
explain, but the magistrate’s voice by the door raised the hair on
her neck.

“Were you away, Miss Jane?”

There was no reason for this loud and public
question, and she so wished to tell Musgrave exactly that, but her
mother’s answer cut off the opportunity.

“Indeed, Sir Robert. Jane has been away for
three days.” Catherine smiled in embarrassment at the group. “This
was the reason for my surprise…my
delight
in seeing her. I
had no idea she was planning to return in time for the ball. I
mean, it is always a joy for a mother to see her children, but
since I did not know where she’d gone, and I received no message
about her time of return…”

A murmur of disapproval rolled through the
room, though Jane had no clear idea who it was aimed at. She
reached for her mother’s hand and looked beseechingly at Clara,
hoping for her sister’s assistance with taking control of this
situation. But Clara’s flushed face was turned toward Henry Adams,
and she was whispering something into his ear.

“And I notice that you have sustained an
injury, Miss Jane.” Musgrave was cutting through people and coming
closer. “Tell us, is it your knee or your ankle?”

“You were not unwell when you left, Jane,”
Lady Purefoy asserted pointedly.

“And you are such a fine rider that I doubt
you would have fallen from your horse. Now, you wouldn’t have
sustained such an injury jumping from the roof of a building, would
you?”

He was now standing before her. His gray
eyes watched her every move.

“I have been long accustomed to taking the
stairs, sir,” she put in acidly, hoping to cut short this very
public inquiry.

“And the cause and nature of the
injury?”

“That is none of your concern, sir,” she
answered curtly. “I should think someone with your responsibilities
would hardly have the time to concern himself in such an ongoing
fashion with my foolish mishaps.”

The magistrate opened his mouth to respond,
but Jane saw his eyes narrow and focus on someone behind her.

“If you will forgive us, Sir Robert, Lady
Purefoy mentioned that this is, after all, a ball. And I have been
waiting too long already for this dance that Miss Jane promised me
earlier.”

The heat that rushed through her when she
heard Nicholas’s voice behind her buoyed her immediately. Her
cheeks burned and her eyes misted over with affection when she
turned and met his intense blue gaze. The tongues were wagging
again, but Jane didn’t care as she slipped her hand through his
proffered arm.

“Are you ready?” he whispered softly as they
started toward the door.

“More than you know. More than I ever was.”
He cupped her hand on his arm, and she moved closer. He was trying
to give her support for her ankle, but she wanted to melt against
him, kiss him, explain to him everything that had happened, and
tell him what a lost soul she was without him.

Jane was surprised to see her father
standing just inside the doorway as they approached. She
immediately bristled, expecting to see his disapproval. But his
look was reflective, mysterious.

“If you have just a few moments, Miss Jane,
there are a few questions that I still need to ask.”

From the steely frown on Nicholas’s face,
she could tell that Musgrave’s persistence angered him as much as
it did her. He pressed her hand reassuringly, though, and turned
without letting her go.

“Really, Musgrave. Can this not wait?”
Nicholas asked impatiently.

“I am afraid not, Sir Nicholas. My duty as
magistrate, acting on behalf of the Cr…”

“Are you here as a guest or as a government
official?” Nicholas’s sharp tone and question silenced the crowd
and a path opened between the two men.

“I fear my duty must always
supersede....”

“That is too bad for you, sir. However, the
rest of us are not afflicted with the same burden. Would you mind
allowing us to enjoy our host’s amusements and hospitality?”

“I would if I could, sir.” The magistrate
stepped toward them. “I assure you that there is no need for a
private conversation…unless you need the opportunity to think of an
excuse for this good lady’s injury.”

The baronet’s words were cold and measured.
“This is not the time, sir. But I assure you, you and I will have a
private discussion in the
very
near future.”

“What was it the last time?” Musgrave asked,
ignoring Nicholas’s threat. “You struck her face with the stable
door, was it not?” He laughed without mirth. “Perhaps this time we
should just say you pushed her from her horse, thereby causing the
pronounced limp she suffers from tonight.”

“Sir Robert,” Lady Purefoy gasped. “What are
you saying?”

Nicholas’s hands dropped to his side, his
tone icy. “Be clear, sir. Are you accusing me?”

“No, of course not!” He laughed again,
though no one else seemed amused by the confrontation. “Surrounded
by all this magnificent art, I am simply trying to be
creative.”

Jane could not take any more of this. She
understood the threat in Musgrave’s words, and she had no wish for
Nicholas to fall victim to it. She pressed a hand on his arm and
faced her foe.

“I believe this unpleasantness is entirely
unnecessary.” She looked around at the room full of people. “If you
have
official
questions to ask me, sir, why not proceed in
private. Surely there is no reason to deprive my parents’ guest of
their evening of enjoyment.”

“But is this not as much entertainment as
any promenade or dinner or bottle of port, for that matter?”

“For you, perhaps,” she replied. “But not
for anyone else.”

“Have you been drinking heavily, Sir
Robert?” Lady Purefoy asked hopefully.

“No, madam.” He turned his back on the
hostess. “And I happen to disagree, Miss Jane. How often will these
good people have an opportunity to witness the king’s magistrate
acting to solve a crime?”

“Very well, sir,” she responded coldly. “Ask
your questions and be done with it.”

“As you wish.” He bowed with a mocking
flourish. “Would you enlighten us as to where you have been for the
past three days?”

“I was visiting a friend.”

“Did you take a carriage or ride your fine
horse?”

“As is my custom, I rode my horse.”

“And does this friend live anywhere near the
village of Banteer?”

She paused, considering her answer. “I
believe it would be safe to say my friend lives in that general
direction.”

“What did you do while you were staying
there?”

She shrugged. “Nothing unusual. We
visited.”

“And what were you doing last night?”

“This is becoming quite tedious, Sir
Robert.”

“Did you go to Banteer last night?” He
walked toward her.

“I cannot think of any reason why I would be
in Banteer, sir....”

“But you were seen there, last night, Miss
Jane.”

“Was I?” She met the man’s accusatory gaze
at the same time that she felt the brush of Nicholas’s arm against
her own. His strength flowed into her, and she found comfort in his
presence beside her. “I am certain whoever
imagined
seeing
me must be mistaken.”

“Do you have anyone who could confirm your
claim?”

She hesitated, unwilling to use Jenny’s
name. As far as the magistrate was concerned, there could be no
connection between the two women. Even if Jane were to escape this
time, Conor’s aunt would know no peace for as long as the
magistrate held power.

“Yes.”

Henry Adams’s voice drew everyone’s
attention to him. A murmur again rippled though the crowd.

“I was with Miss Jane last evening.”

Jane felt Nicholas stiffen beside her.

“Parson,” Musgrave started, surprise evident
in his voice. “Are you saying you visited Miss Jane at her unnamed
friend’s house last evening?”

“No.” The minister moved to Jane’s side, and
she felt suddenly dwarfed between Nicholas and Henry. “No. What I
am saying is that Miss Jane has been a guest at the parsonage in
Ballyclough for the past three days. This unnamed friend she speaks
of is I, Henry Adams.”

“I do not know what all this secrecy is
about. But I know she wasn’t there, Nicholas. I went after her,”
Lady Spencer whispered anxiously. “I know she wasn’t staying with
Parson Adams.”

Nicholas had managed to stand by Jane as
notes of scandal mingled with those of Purcell and Handel. He’d
stayed beside her as Adams had responded to Musgrave’s question
about the whereabouts of Jane’s horse last night, and listened with
appreciation as the parson had verbally attacked the magistrate
about the lack of order in the district—evidenced by the fact that
horses routinely disappear from stables at night, with only some of
them reappearing a few days later. If the horse that was seen was
indeed Jane’s—though it was doubtful, he asserted—this was
obviously what had occurred.

Musgrave had clearly been thrown off stride
by the Parson’s shocking claim, and his complaint—seconded by
several landowners looking on—further disoriented the man.

Nicholas continued to stand with Jane and
Adams until the magistrate had said something about the ineptness
of the dragoons assigned to him and grudgingly mumbled an apology
for creating such an inopportune disturbance. Once Musgrave had
withdrawn, Nicholas had also taken his leave.

He could not remain beside her and pretend
he was unaffected by the parson’s announcement. He knew that Jane
was not at Ballyclough. He himself had gone there looking for her.
What bothered him greatly, though, was that Adams seemed to know
more than he did.

Nicholas had left the house and was standing
in the field beneath the paddock wall, staring out into the
blackness covering the valley, when his mother had caught up to
him. Behind him, the stables were bustling with activity as
carriages continued to be sent up for guests who’d had their fill
of food, drink, dancing…with a bit of scandal thrown in.

“Well, this is a party no one will soon
forget,” she said. “Everyone is gobbling down the supper our
hostess prepared and is heading for the hills. And to think that in
London one would have no chance of
pushing
anyone out the
door. The wolves would be waiting around, hoping for a bloody
finish!”

“There may be blood, yet.”

“I shouldn’t think so,” she replied. “Parson
Adams and Sir Thomas have locked themselves away in our host’s
study. But I am quite uneasy about any solution that those two
might come up with.”

Nicholas said nothing, and Alexandra waited
a moment or two before pressing him.

“Jane needs you, Nick. She is trying to be
as brave as she can, but I know she will fall apart if you do not
go back to her soon.”

“Henry Adams has been doing an excellent job
helping her. I would hate to interfere.”

“You cannot mean what you are saying.” She
touched him on the arm. “Nothing that Musgrave said to her, no look
of severity from anyone in attendance, upset her as much as when
you walked out of that room. It is as plain as those stars in this
sky. She needs
you
, Nicholas. You.”

“And tell me. Did she say that? Did she send
you after me?”

“Jane would have if she thought it at all
possible. But how could she?” Alexandra stepped in front of him.
“Every movement she makes, every word she says, is being carefully
scrutinized by a dozen of people at any given moment. Those who
have not left yet are watching her closely, waiting for something
noteworthy to carry to the club, or the card party, or whatever it
is they do out here to socialize. She is bearing it well, for the
moment, but I do not know for how long.”