The Baron's Wife Page 16

  She gasped. “Tell me why, Nathaniel.”

  “Damn it!” He flung her hands free. “You are my wife. Can you do what I ask without questioning me, just once?”

  Shocked by his explosive response, Laura drew in a breath. “I will not be ordered about like a servant. And I refuse to be treated like a prisoner in my own home.”

  At her words, Nathaniel gave a bitter laugh. “Laura, for God’s sake! You know we’ve had smugglers on the grounds. It’s not forever, and I have my reasons. Please?”

  Laura struggled into her dressing gown. “You assured me they were gone. Is it too much to ask for an explanation for your nightly sojourns?”

  “You have been searching for me?” He slowly shook his head. “Have I made a mistake bringing you here?”

  Laura inhaled sharply as anger and dismay coiled in her stomach. “Mother said your reason for marrying me was because you need an heir. Was that the only reason?”

  His laugh was brittle. “I married you because I wanted you here with me. I wanted to spend my life with you.” He raked his fingers through his hair, and a lock fell over his forehead, making him appear less self-assured. “After everything, I thought fate owed me some happiness. Perhaps I’ve been wrong.”

  She stared at him, captured by his words. He had wanted her. Now it seemed he wished he hadn’t.

  “Until those responsible for this are put in jail, I must ask this of you.” His eyes implored her.

  “What should I fear, Nathaniel? I’ve heard noises during the night, and there was someone in the room down the corridor.”

  Nathaniel’s eyes widened. “Which room?”

  “Amanda’s bedchamber.”

  He shook his head. “You must be imagining it. It’s an empty room.”

  “I tell you there was someone there. I saw their shadow move beneath the door.”

  He pulled her to her feet. “Come and show me.”

  Nathaniel opened Amanda’s door as Laura’s chest tightened. He stepped inside. “Damnation!”

  She started at the violence of his reaction. “What is it?”

  “I gave orders for all of this to be packed away before you came to Wolfram.”

  “But when you saw me come out of this room you said nothing.”

  “I believed it to be empty.” His hands on her shoulders, he gazed down at her. “Honestly, sweetheart.”

  “It wasn’t you then?” she asked, giddy with relief. All of Amanda’s possessions, her jewelry and perfume still covered the dresser. Chilled, Laura noticed that a lacy sky-blue gown had been taken from the armoire, and now lay across a chair, as if about to be worn. “And someone has been back here again. You didn’t arrange this room like a shrine to her memory?”

  Nathaniel stared at her as if she was mad. “Good God, no.”

  She swallowed. “You aren’t still in love with Amanda?” Her voice dropped to a husky whisper.

  “What on earth made you think I was?” With a bitter laugh, he swung away from her to sort through the jewelry on the dresser. Amanda’s expensive perfume wafted into the air, and he turned with a grimace. “I must speak to Rudge.” He put his arm around Laura’s shoulders and ushered her from the bedroom.

  “Who visits this room then, Nathaniel?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve no idea. Go back to your bedroom, Laura; call your maid to help you dress. I’ll be in the breakfast room.”

  Lightheaded, Laura hurried to obey. It was not Nathaniel. But his bitter laugh, so filled with emotion, did little to set her mind at rest.

  She dressed in her favorite jade-green gown with the French gilt buttons for added courage. Determined to appear calm, she entered the breakfast room where Rudge stood before Nathaniel.

  Rudge bowed. “Your usual breakfast, my lady?”

  She doubted she could eat a bite. “A piece of fruit, thank you, Rudge.”

  When Rudge left them, Nathaniel gazed at her, appreciation in his eyes. “You look very pretty in that shade of green.” He poured her a cup of coffee. Strong, the way she liked it.

  “I could do with this.” Laura sipped the reviving brew, her nerve endings thrumming. “You questioned Rudge?”

  “I did.” Nathaniel buttered his toast. “He’d given orders for Mina, Amanda’s maid, to clear the room and box up its contents. They were to be placed in the attic. But after she left Wolfram, he hadn’t checked to see if the work was done. He’s very remorseful and will see the room is emptied today.”

  Laura put down her cup. Rudge had been far too enamored of Amanda’s portrait. Amanda had laughed at him, Cilla had said. “And you believe him?”

  Nathaniel shrugged. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

  “Might there have been a thief in the room?”

  “Rudge will question the staff. We may have a pilferer among them. Perhaps they were disturbed, for nothing appears to have been taken. Anything of great value is in my safe.” He rubbed his brow. “Don’t worry, Laura, the room will be emptied today. No one need go in there again.”

  “We could give the maids one of the simpler pieces of jewelry. I’m sure they’d be delighted to have a small broach or a locket.”

  “An excellent idea. I’ll have Rudge see to it.”

  Nathaniel took a bite of toast as his assessing gaze met hers. Did he believe her? Or did he think she’d dreamed it? She put down her cup. “I went down to the kitchen last night when I couldn’t find you. A breeze blew up from the passage that leads to the water.”

  Nathaniel dropped his toast onto his plate. “Remember your promise, please.”

  She hadn’t promised, and she might well ignore his infuriating order in the future. But she saw little advantage in arguing the point with him now. “I heard someone shut the outside door. Was that you?”

  “Yes. I checked on my boat to see if the mooring was secure. A gale was blowing up.”

  Laura gazed out at the calm, sunny morning. “I didn’t hear it.”

  “The storm didn’t amount to much.”

  “And yet you usually predict the weather so accurately.”

  He frowned. “I’m touched by your faith in me. But even I can be wrong on occasion.”

  “Do you know,” she said in a conversational tone, aware her words would produce an outburst, “I’ve learned how to tell when you dissemble.”

  This gained a reaction, but not the explosive one she’d expected. Nathaniel rose slowly. He looked down at her, an expression in his eyes she’d never seen before. Never wanted to see. Regret.

  “The woman I married,” he said slowly, “would never have thought that of me. Let alone have said it.”

  Laura cringed and looked away from his hurt eyes. She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. Why was she the one made to feel in the wrong? “Am I mistaken then?”

  Nathaniel paused as Rudge entered with Laura’s plate of fruit. Her mouth was as dry as dust, her appetite completely gone.

  When the door closed on Rudge, Nathaniel rested his hands on the back of his chair. “I only ask that you do as I say. Am I so very unreasonable?”

  She glowered at him. So she was to be the one at fault!

  He eased his shoulders with a weary sigh. “I need to escape all this drama. I’m taking the boat out.” He tilted his head. “I’d like your company.”

  She blanched, in no mood to brave the ocean. “No. I…”

  He nodded, his eyes bleak. “Very well.” He turned and walked to the door.

  “Wait, Nathaniel.” Her voice trembled. He thought she no longer believed in him. That must have cut deeply into the very heart of a proud man like Nathaniel. And he was wrong. She had every faith in him to protect her, especially in that small boat. She couldn’t leave things like this. “I’d like to come with you.”

  He raised a brow. “You feel safe with me, Laura?”

  She swallowed. “Of course I do.”

  His eyes darkened with emotion. “I shall always endeavor to take care of you. It would be more than my life is w
orth if anything happened to you.”

  She gasped. “I’ve always trusted you to keep me safe.”

  “It’s a perfect day for a sail. We’ll leave after your breakfast. You might wish to change your dress. It would be a pity to spoil that one.”

  ***

  The cold wind whipped across the water, churning the waves. If she chose, Laura could reach down and touch the white tips of the gray-green ocean as the swell rolled past them at great speed. The salty air stung her nose. She fumbled in a pocket for a handkerchief, and then abandoned the idea. Despite her caped coat, her legs were cold in the fawn seersucker gown which offered more freedom of movement. What she wouldn’t give for Cilla’s divided skirt!

  Her chilled fingers clutched the yacht’s rail again in a slippery grip. Sailing proved both frightening and exhilarating. How easy it would be to topple into that dark, roiling water and sink without a trace. Her gaze returned to the man at the helm, his big, capable hand on the tiller, his dark head turned toward the rocks a frightening few yards to starboard.

  Nathaniel had explained the rudiments of sailing, and when his troubled gaze met hers, she desperately wanted to reach out to him and try to bridge the ever-widening gap between them. Didn’t he want to know who was in Amanda’s bedroom? Or did he think she was being overly dramatic? If he couldn’t take her at her word, they would soon lose the genuine passion and regard they shared. A bond which had drawn them together like a strong thread from their first meeting. She would fight to stop that from happening, whatever it took, and yearned for when he would take her to bed without words and make love to her, even though it fell short of what she craved. But not only did he show little desire for her, he remained tightly coiled within himself, his actions brisk and formal when he was forced to touch her.

  The foam-crested waves swirled around the boat, and the sea’s roar made it impossible for her to make herself heard, even if she could manage the words that might smooth things between them. She watched him in his element with intense admiration. He was a graceful man, and that grace did not desert him on the water. He moved with assurance, raising the sail and yelling at her to avoid the swing of the boom. The noisy gulls followed above in the pale blue sky, perhaps in the hope of a free meal.

  The boat tilted, drenching Laura’s skirt in salt spray. She gasped as icy water ran down her neck. Oblivious to any discomfort, Nathaniel tacked into the wind, and the boat swung around. They passed the abbey, its ancient beauty stirring within her a sense of foolish pride that this was her home. She craned her neck as it disappeared behind the granite cliffs. She glanced at her husband’s handsome profile. He looked her way, his face filled with grim pleasure.

  “I love you,” she shouted, knowing her words would be torn from her and carried away by the wind.

  Nathaniel gave no indication that he’d heard. He stared ahead as they sailed around the rocky headland, past rocks worn razor sharp from the sea’s assault. Gravity-defying wildflowers, grasses and seabirds’ nests decorated the sheer rock face. Somewhere along these cliffs, Amanda had plunged to her death. The horror of it became so real that Laura shivered.

  She could see the roof of Cilla’s idyllic cottage; from here, it looked like it was teetering on the edge.

  Close to the cliff where the waves beat against the rocks, a dark shape, like a bundle of rags, churned in the water. Laura called out to Nathaniel, but he had seen it too. He swung the tiller and guided the boat closer. The wind caught the sail, driving them back. Cursing, Nathaniel lowered the canvas and picked up the oars. He began to row, pulling the boat through the seething waves. Only a few yards from them, a body rose and fell with the waves to be dashed on the rocks, then drift away again.

  “Oh, dear heaven!” Laura put a hand to her mouth with a strangled sob.

  Nathaniel brought the boat as close as he could. It was a man, face down, arms outspread. He wore a tan leather jerkin like one she’d seen before.

  “Take the tiller, Laura. Careful how you go.”

  As the boat rocked, Laura moved uneasily toward Nathaniel. She sat and grasped the slick wooden tiller.

  Nathaniel placed his big hands over hers with a firm grip. “Like this. Hold it steady.”

  Nathaniel rowed back to the man. He reached down and grabbed an arm, heaving the man over the side. Any frail hope that he might still be alive dissolved when he fell like a sodden sack of produce into the bottom of the boat. Laura couldn’t breathe; it was as though the air had been squeezed from her lungs. She dizzily dragged in huge breaths and tried unsuccessfully to avert her gaze, afraid she’d be sick. Nathaniel turned the man over, revealing a face reduced to a mass of bloodless flesh, his features torn away by the rocks. His hair, although plastered wet to his head, was bright gold.

  “It’s Theo Mallory!” she cried.

  “Don’t look, Laura.” Nathaniel pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and laid it over the man’s face, then he took the tiller from her and turned the boat for home.

  Chapter Twenty

  Wet through, Laura stood shivering on the wharf.

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?” Nathaniel wrapped his arm around her in a comforting gesture. She wanted to turn her face to his chest and cry, but she steadied herself, nodding dully.

  “Go up and change; there’s no reason for you to be here.” He released her. “It might be a while before Teg brings the constable.”

  Some hours later, from her window, Laura saw the police constable arrive. She hurried downstairs. Theo Mallory had been positively identified and the body removed to the undertakers in the village. Nathaniel and the constable had gone down to give the bad news to Mrs. Madge.

  Laura followed them, wanting to offer the woman comfort. A wail rose from the kitchen.

  “Bring Mrs. Madge some brandy, Rudge.” Nathaniel took Mrs. Madge’s arm and helped her to a stool. “Is there somewhere you can go? You must take time away from Wolfram to recover. As long as it takes.”

  The tearful maids clustered around, clutching their aprons.

  Mrs. Madge seemed of sterner stuff. She shook her head vehemently, saying hard work was the best cure-all for grief. Rising from the stool, she looked vaguely about her and sipped the brandy Rudge had quickly fetched for her.

  “I have your dinner party to prepare for,” she said in a brisk tone. “You can’t do without me.”

  It was surely inappropriate to hold the dinner now. Laura placed her arm around the distressed woman. “You need not concern yourself with that. The dinner will be postponed until your return.”

  “Oh no, my lady.” Mrs. Madge’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I’m so looking forward to it. I haven’t cooked for a dinner party in such a long time.” She turned crimson and glanced from Laura to Nathaniel, no doubt with the thought that the last dinner was prepared for Amanda.

  Nathaniel patted her shoulder. “Very well, Mrs. Madge. We shall make the night a triumph.”

  Mrs. Madge blew her nose. “Thank you, my lord, and now I’d best be getting on with the luncheon preparations.”

  Neither of them could do justice to Mrs. Madge’s efforts at luncheon. When they left the dining room, Nathaniel put a hand on Laura’s arm. “Come to my study, sweetheart.”

  He looked so stern. She followed him inside, her misery like a steel weight.

  Nathaniel leaned back against the desk. “The day after the dinner party, I’d like you to leave for Wimbledon. Visit with your parents at home for a while.”

  “But this is my home,” she whispered. He was sending her away. Her breath caught as she fought panic. Was this the end for them?

  “Home is where your heart is, Laura. Can you say your heart is here when you accuse me so?”

  Laura blinked away tears. She placed her hands on his chest, searching his face. “You’re sending me away because we had an argument?”

  “No, Laura. Don’t think this has anything to do with you and me. It does not.” Nathaniel stepped away, but his gaze remained on he
r as he tugged the bell cord.

  Did he expect her to fight him? When he was in this mood, she knew it was useless. She’d been stupid to accuse him of dishonesty when he may well have been trying to protect her. Would she never learn patience? If only he’d allow her to share his worries. But he was right. There was danger here; she could hardly refute it. Not after today.

  When Rudge appeared, Nathaniel said, “Bring down Lady Lanyon’s trunk from the attic. After the dinner party, she plans to visit her parents for a prolonged stay.”

  A prolonged stay? Ignoring the satisfied look on Rudge’s face as the butler hurried out of the room, Laura turned to her husband.

  “Am I to be punished, Nathaniel?” she asked, hoping they might begin to talk.

  “For what?” He sighed. “Don’t make it any harder, please. I need to deal with this without worrying about you.”

  “Very well.” With a stiff nod, she left the room.

  Agnes awaited her in the bedroom. Rudge had wasted no time. Laura’s trunk was already there, lying open, awaiting her instructions.

  “Leave that for now, please. I shan’t be departing for a while yet,” Laura said. She still hoped Nathaniel would cool down and change his mind; he needed her now more than ever.

  She had to speak to someone or she’d burst. Laura went to tell Cilla the news. She found Cilla working, the strong smell of oil paint lingering in the air. A canvas lay hidden from view beneath its cloth cover.

  “You’ve been working hard,” Laura said after she’d explained about Mallory.

  “Almost finished,” Cilla said. “I find it difficult to believe Theo’s dead.” She cleaned her hands with a pungent rag. “He was always so pugnacious. That kind seem indestructible.”

  “Was he rude to you?”

  “He knew I disliked the way he behaved around Amanda. But I didn’t care what he thought of me.”

  Laura leaned back against the sofa. “He was disagreeable to everyone I suspect. He was certainly quite rude to me.”

  “Mallory was arrogant and ambitious. If he saw a way to get ahead, he’d take it, no matter the consequences. A thoroughly bad type who has gotten his just desserts.”