The Baron's Wife Read online

  Agnes’ mouth fell open.

  “Don’t just stand there, girl,” Nathaniel snapped.

  Agnes rushed from the room.

  “What were you going to tell me?”

  Laura’s lids drooped. “It can wait until later. I’m so very tired.” The ominous heaviness she felt low in her stomach made her afraid to tell him. She couldn’t bear to disappoint him now.

  He pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. “Rest, my love. When Agnes returns, I’ll leave you. I must check the house and grounds. I won’t be long.”

  “Please be careful, Nathaniel.”

  He looked grim. “My hunting rifle’s in the study. I’ll load it.” He turned to the maid, who had just returned. “Stay until I come back, Agnes. Lock the door and don’t answer it to anyone but me.”

  Agnes gaped at him. “Yes, milord.”

  Laura sipped the brandy while the maid bound up her cuts. A little woozy, she drifted off to sleep. She dreamt that Nathaniel had been hurt. Waking with a start, she found he’d returned and sent the maid away. She still trembled with shock.

  “Stay with me,” she begged, holding out her arms.

  “No one was lurking about the grounds. I won’t leave you again tonight. Sleep, my love.”

  He stretched out beside her and gathered her into his arms. She coiled up against his reassuringly strong body and fell into an exhausted sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  When the doctor came the following morning, he confirmed Laura’s pregnancy. “Do you think I’ll keep my baby?” Laura asked him in a desperate whisper.

  “Difficult to tell,” the doctor said. “I would advise you to remain in bed for at least two or three days to be on the safe side. We’ll know more after that. Shall I congratulate Lord Lanyon?”

  “Not until we’re sure, Doctor Owens.”

  Laura lay back on the pillows. If her mother knew of this, she’d demand her to return to London and have the best doctor from the Royal College of Physicians attend her. And she didn’t trust Nathaniel not to agree with her mother. Just a few days and then she would tell him.

  Cilla came to inquire after Laura when she failed to keep their appointment for the sitting. She didn’t tell Nathaniel about the portrait, for which Laura was grateful; she wanted to see the painting first. It might not be flattering, and the glowing portrait of Amanda was a constant reminder of Nathaniel’s first wife, whose incomparable beauty must have once ensnared him, if not at the end of her life. It was as if Cilla had poured all her love into that portrait. Love? The thought gave Laura pause. Might Cilla have been in love with Amanda? But Cilla had spoken so bluntly of her faults, Laura doubted it could be so.

  After two days in bed, which bored her to distraction, the worrying sensation in her stomach eased. When she rose the following morning, apart from her cuts and scratches, she felt extremely well.

  Nathaniel had not left her side during the night, his rifle propped close by the bed. Yesterday, the constable questioned her, but she could tell him nothing helpful.

  “Let’s go over it again,” Nathaniel said, as they ate in the breakfast room. He smiled. “Judging by your appetite, you seem to have recovered from your ordeal.”

  Laura put down her knife and fork. She’d eaten two eggs and a pile of bacon and nibbled at a piece of toast and jam. “I saw a man in dark clothes sobbing.”

  “Try and think now, anything you might remember.”

  She took a sip of tea and returned her cup to its saucer. “He was turned away from me, and the room was in shadow. I smelled something odd though.”

  Nathaniel leaned closer. “What exactly? A lingering perfume, tobacco, a man’s body odor, tallow? We use beeswax here.”

  Laura’s mind swirled like a London fog. “I’m sure there was tallow, but that’s not it.” She frowned and rubbed her forehead. “Something that shouldn’t have been there.”

  “Don’t worry about it now, darling.” Nathaniel placed his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze.

  “It will come to me eventually. I have a good memory.” Laura took a last bite of toast and eyed the fruit bowl as she considered a banana. “I’m so hungry. I can’t understand it. Maybe it’s shock.”

  “It probably is.” Nathaniel’s eyebrows rose when Laura gave into temptation and reached for the fruit.

  “It’s a treat to find a banana here. I do love them so.” She peeled back the skin and then took a bite, enjoying the smooth, sweet taste. “I do wish I could remember at least something to help you.”

  Nathaniel looked pensive. “Don’t concern yourself with it now. It may come to you later.”

  Rudge came in to replenish the tea, and they lapsed into silence. Laura studied Rudge as he fussed around the sideboard, narrow-shouldered in his dark suit. He was a slightly built man. She remembered how he spoke of Amanda when he showed Laura the painting. She’d laughed at him, Cilla had said. Had he been obsessed with Amanda? Enough to want to kill her, as well as the woman he considered a usurper?

  The butler exited the room. “How did Rudge get on with Amanda?”

  “Very well. She had him eating out of her hand.”

  “He was in love with her,” Laura said.

  “He admired her. But love?”

  “It was obvious in the worshipful way he handled her portrait.” She shuddered. “He stroked the frame as if it was her flesh.”

  Nathaniel’s mouth tightened. “That’s possible, I suppose, but, darling, are you sure you aren’t…”

  “Rudge has never liked me.”

  “I can’t believe anyone would dislike you. And as I’ve said, Rudge was not here that night.”

  “You can’t be sure of that.”

  “Why would he want to hurt you?”

  “He has never once smiled at me since I came here. And he has offered no sympathy after my near-drowning.” She narrowed her eyes. “He must know I saw him in Amanda’s bedroom. He might have murdered Amanda too.”

  “Now you really are being fanciful. He loved Amanda, yet he killed her?”

  “Haven’t you heard of a crime of passion?”

  Nathaniel sighed. “I can understand your nervousness.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Rudge could not have killed Amanda.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I find it very difficult to believe Rudge would hurt you, even if he could have returned to the abbey during the night. He would have had to come by boat. I’ll question him and make inquiries of the fishermen. In the meantime, best not to spend time alone in his company.”

  Nathaniel watched her choose an apple from the bowl on the table, and his anxious expression became tinged with gentle amusement. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough breakfast, my dear?”

  “Thank you, yes. I’ll take this with me to eat while I write my correspondence.”

  He slipped his arm around her waist and chuckled. “That tiny waist of yours will become but a beautiful memory.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And if it does, will you still love me?”

  “Every splendid extra inch of you.” He dropped a kiss on her lips.

  She paused, yearning to tell Nathaniel her news. But she couldn’t risk him sending her to her mother until she gave birth. Right now, her bargaining abilities would be useless against Nathaniel’s need to protect her and the baby. And hopefully, the malicious person who’d attacked her would soon be found. Nathaniel would discover she was right about Rudge. She shivered and wished him gone from Wolfram today. But as Nathaniel remained convinced of his innocence, that was unlikely.

  They strolled to the stables. The usual stable smells greeted them at the door, along with the moist heat of a new birth.

  “Mr. Pitney has asked if he might see you. He is in the office, my lord,” the young stable boy said, ducking his head respectfully to Laura.

  “Tell him I’ll be but a moment.”

  In the stall, the young foal wobbled unsteadily on its four white feet. “She’s beautiful
,” Laura said. “What will you call her?”

  “I thought I’d name her after you.”

  “Could you call her after my twin sister, Eliza?”

  He smiled. “Eliza Girl it is then.”

  A hand on his shoulder, Laura kissed his cheek. “Perfect.”

  “Laura, I don’t believe I’ve introduced you to my new groom, Cadan Hammett.”

  “Milady.”

  Cadan had a pleasant, open face. Nathaniel had told her he was married with a child. Embarrassed, Laura hoped she didn’t flush, aware of how much of her the man had seen when she’d stumbled into the stables half-clothed.

  Nathaniel was drawn into a discussion with the groom about the welfare of the new foal.

  “I’ll leave you to your work while I visit Cilla,” Laura said.

  “Wait just a moment. I’ll come with you.”

  She did not want to risk him seeing the portrait. “But it’s daylight and only over the hill. What if I take the dogs with me?”

  Nathaniel frowned. “No, Laura. Wait for me. I’ll be finished with Pitney in a little while.”

  “Could Cadan escort me then?”

  “You are impatient, Madam! Escort Lady Lanyon, Cadan.”

  “Yes, milord.”

  “Take the dogs; they need exercise.” Nathaniel whistled. Orsino and Sebastian pricked up their ears and loped over to mill around them. “They are well trained and fond of you. Ask anything of them, and they will obey.”

  “Come, Orsino, Sebastian.”

  Laura walked into the park with the groom trailing a respectful distance behind. A breeze rustled through the dead leaves, scattering them over the lawn. A gardener raked them into piles and burned them. Smoke coiled up into the air to be grabbed and whisked away by the wind. She’d barely noticed the change in the weather and still wore a light cloak over her walking dress. The seasons advanced more slowly here and were milder than northern climes. The dogs frolicked around her. Orsino ferreted out a red squirrel and chased it up a tree. After a bout of frenzied barking, the dog gave up and ran back to join them.

  As the roar of the sea greeted her, Laura shivered and kept her distance from the cliffs, shrugging away her fear of some unknown assailant wanting her dead. Was Nathaniel’s confidence in Rudge misplaced? She called the dogs to heel at the cottage. With a wave, Cadan left her.

  The door opened before Laura reached it. “My dear,” Cilla took her hands, “I’m so relieved to find you well. I was horrified when I heard what had happened. What an extraordinary business. Do you have any idea who the devil it was?”

  Rudge’s name hovered on her tongue. “No idea at all, I’m afraid.”

  Laura ordered the dogs to sit at the front door. She followed Cilla into the cottage. The smell of oil paint made her slightly nauseous. She’d taken an aversion to certain smells recently, while they’d never bothered her before.

  “Perhaps they mistook me for someone else, although it’s utterly terrifying. Especially after Amanda’s unsolved death.” She settled on the chair, trying to push away the terror that remained with her.

  “No recollection at all?” Cilla went to her easel.

  “Nothing useful.”

  “Why don’t you ask Nathaniel to take you away for a holiday?”

  Laura frowned. “I don’t see how that would help.”

  “Well, it makes sense if you’re in danger.”

  Laura crossed her arms. “I’m not leaving Wolfram again.”

  “Your portrait is almost finished,” Cilla said with a conciliatory smile.

  “You don’t still need me to pose for you?”

  “Once I have the sketch down, I work quickly. My memory for details is excellent. One more sitting tomorrow will do it.”

  “When do you leave?”

  “The London exhibition opens next week.”

  “How exciting. Are you prepared? Nervous?”

  Cilla bit her lip. “Prepared and nervous.”

  Laura fell silent as Cilla worked. She didn’t feel comfortable in this room. It seemed airless, despite an open window. An hour later, they stopped for tea.

  “Let’s have it outside,” Laura suggested.

  The creeper over the loggia had shed its leaves, and the sun flooded down on them. Laura removed her hat and lifted her face to the warmth.

  “You’ll freckle,” Cilla said.

  “I never have.”

  “Amanda had to be careful.” Cilla stirred her tea. “She had that milk-white skin of a blonde; she was never without her hat and her umbrella. Took that frilly pastel blue parasol everywhere with her.” Her laugh had a bitter edge. “She was quite aware that the blue matched her eyes.”

  “Didn’t I see a similar parasol in the painting you just finished? The one I peeked at on the easel?”

  “Yes. I painted it from memory, as it was never found. Lost in the sea, most likely.”

  “She had the parasol with her when she disappeared?”

  “Yes.”

  Laura glanced across the sea. Today, a channel of dark purple dissected the blue-gray water. She remembered the chill of the water and how terrified she’d been when the tide swept her away from land. She took a deep sip of hot tea to banish the block of cold fear. Would they never be at peace here?

  “What time of day did Amanda go missing?”

  “She posed for me on that day. It was about two o’clock when she left. No one saw her after that.”

  “Where else might she have gone?”

  “To visit Mallory. She couldn’t stay away from him.”

  “There was some suggestion at the inquest that she had an affair.”

  Cilla stood so swiftly she knocked the table and spilled the tea. She peered into the teapot. “More hot water, I think.”

  When she returned, Laura repeated her question. “Is that what she told you?”

  Pouring water into the pot, Cilla spilled some onto her hand. “Ouch!” She sucked a finger. “Amanda needed validation of people’s undying love. But she didn’t enjoy the physical side of things. She would have charmed Mallory; perhaps she did visit him that day for another bout of his cringing devotion.”

  Laura took a sip of tea. “Then why would he kill her?”

  “Who knows?” Cilla shrugged. “Love can drive a person mad.”

  “But she was with child.”

  “That wouldn’t prevent Amanda from flirting.”

  “But her condition should have stopped Mallory from pursuing her.”

  Cilla’s eyebrows rose. “This is beyond your comprehension, isn’t it? Such a sheltered life you’ve led.”

  “I suppose I do expect people to act decently,” Laura said coolly. She put down her cup. “Nathaniel didn’t want me to stay long. I’ve tried to keep the portrait from him, so I’d better go.”

  Cilla pushed back her chair. “It might be best. I’m not good company today.”

  Laura flinched at her expression. Cilla’s fierce reaction seemed unexpected. Her eyes glittered with fury. “Whatever is the matter?”

  Cilla shrugged and began to stack the cups onto a tray. “Talking about Amanda affects me. She treated people badly, especially Nathaniel. Working alone will calm me.”

  “I’ll let myself out.”

  Laura walked through the house to the front door, troubled by Cilla’s obvious dismissal. Had the mention of their different upbringings upset her? It was true that her life had been easier than Cilla’s, but she didn’t feel she should apologize for it.

  “I’m sorry, Laura.” Cilla followed her and placed a hand on her arm. She smiled. “Come tomorrow. I’ll finish the portrait.”

  “The last sitting?” Laura asked with a rush of relief.

  “Yes. A short one.”

  “Good. Tomorrow then.”

  Outside on the step, the faithful dogs bounded to their feet. She bent and patted both of their satiny heads. “Good dogs. Let’s go home.”

  Cilla did feel a great deal for Amanda, although she wasn’t blind
to her faults. Laura wondered if it had been a romantic love or a close friendship. Laura continued through the park. Cilla might not have entirely approved of Amanda, but she still suffered a terrible loss. The dogs suddenly took off as Nathaniel appeared through the trees.

  “I would have preferred you wait for me,” he said when he reached her. He placed an arm around her shoulders, his expression grave. She hated that he worried about her.

  Laura laid her head against his chest.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. It’s just that I love you so.”

  “And I love you. But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  He grinned and tipped her chin to kiss her. Laura wrapped her arms around his neck. Whatever had happened, she couldn’t tamp down the burst of rapture at his simple declaration so freely given.

  Nathaniel whistled to Orsino who sniffed the bushes a few yards away. “I’m for a good dinner and a brandy by the library fire.”

  “Me too. A good dinner anyway.” Laura smiled up at him. “Do you know I haven’t a clue where Rudge’s accommodation is in the house? Does he reside with the other servants on the floor above ours?”

  “Yes, but he’s not in the same wing as the maids.”

  “It would be easy for him to slip down the back stairs to Amanda’s room, wouldn’t it?”

  Nathaniel frowned. “I have questioned him, Laura. He was staying with a friend in the village. He has provided me with a name.”

  “She might lie for him.”

  “What makes you think it’s a woman?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s Fred Peterson and a few others. They meet to play cards.”

  “And he spent the night there?”

  “No. He crossed not long after you did. Once the tide was out.”

  Laura paused and turned to him. “I know you don’t like to talk about when Amanda died…” She paused at his bleak expression. “Do you remember where everyone was that day?”

  “Of course I remember!” he snapped. “Do you think I’d forget?”

  Would he ever be free of her? “I’m sorry if this upsets you.” To her dismay her voice broke slightly. “But where was Rudge that afternoon?”

  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Nathaniel passed a tired hand across his brow. “Amanda disappeared sometime in the afternoon.” He thought for a moment. “I was working in my study; Rudge had been away on an errand in the village.”