A Dangerous Masquerade (23 page)

             
Her cheeks were suddenly wet.  While Jonathan lived she’d managed to keep her heartbreak at bay, caring for him, pitying him and making his last days as happy as she could.  He had been smiling when he left this life so perhaps she had succeeded.

             
Would his father be prepared to listen to her?  Would he be glad to know that his son had been a fine brave man – or would he blame her for Jonathan’s death?

             
She was uncertain of her reception, but by bringing Jonathan’s body back, she had done all she could.  Pierre had helped her with the journey in France, but when she arrived in England she would have to manage alone.

‘She left for England yesterday?’  Moraven stared at the nun in dismay.  ‘I found the house closed but I thought she might still be in Paris?’

             
‘The comtesse returned and claimed her fortune.  She has put the house up for sale and taken herself off to the south somewhere.  You know that Constance married the young milord?’

             
Moraven’s jaw tightened.  ‘Has she gone with him?’

             
‘He died three days ago.  She had his body embalmed and received permission to take his coffin back to England, to his father.’

             
‘Damn!’  Moraven scowled.  ‘I came to tell her that Lord South has died of a sudden heart attack. His estate should pass to his son – but for the moment his uncle, the Earl of Summerton, has charge of it.’

             
‘Then Constance will take her husband’s body to the Earl I dare say.’

             
‘The earl is a bad tempered man, worse than his elder brother ever knew how to be.  I do not think Constance will be welcomed into his family.’

             
‘I think she did not expect it, my lord.  All she wanted was to tell her husband’s father that his son was a brave man.’

             
‘Do you expect her to return?’

             
‘She was not sure what she ought to do.  The comtesse has offered her a home, but Constance seemed reluctant to take it.  She has very little money but perhaps she will find her own family in England.’

             
‘Why has she no money?’  Moraven’s expression hardened.  ‘I left her a draft on my bank – unless she was too proud to use it.  Besides, Jonathan must have provided for her.’

             
‘There is a will but he was not able to transfer funds from England.  Constance has only what the comtesse gave her – and that was hardly more than her wages for the past year.’

             
‘Damn the woman!’  He saw the nun’s look and apologised.  ‘I was speaking of the comtesse.  Has she no idea of what she owes to Constance?’

             
‘Constance thought she was annoyed because she borrowed her gowns and jewels to attend card parties.  She may regret having been less than generous but for the moment she is enjoying her new wealth.’

             
‘Selfish bitch.’  Once again he was forced to apologise.  ‘Forgive me.  I am angry for Constance’s sake.’

             
‘The comtesse suffered at her husband’s hands and I believe she had a hard time after she left him.  We must make allowances for her, my lord.  I am certain that Constance understands.’

             
‘There was a ship sailing for England as we arrived yesterday.  If I return by the next available sailing, I shall not be far behind.  Pray God I find her before she lands in trouble.  Jonathan will have told her where to find his family.  If I am fortunate I may find her there.’

             
‘I asked her why she did not wait for you to return but she said you left without a word and…’

             
‘Without a word? I left her a letter, telling her where to reach me if she needed help.’  He scowled.  ‘Damn the old woman.  I dare say I know what happened to my letter.’

             
If Heloise had hidden or destroyed his letter she might also have taken the bank draft, for it had still been on the dressing chest when he left.  Suddenly, Moraven had an icy feeling at the nape of his neck.  What would Constance do alone in England with no friends or family if the earl refused to take her in?

             
He had not known Jonathan’s father well but he knew the earl and the man was not someone he cared to associate with.  Moraven thought him honest but cold and hard, a man who would not give a penny to a beggar.  If he thought Constance an adventuress he might have her arrested or throw her out without a penny – especially since his brother’s fortune would come to him now that Jonathan was dead.  The estate would be entailed but as Jonathan’s widow, Constance ought to inherit her husband’s personal money.

             
Moraven’s mouth hardened.  He would pay Summerton a visit.  If Constance wanted nothing from him personally, at least he could make sure that she inherited what was due to her.

             
He took his farewell of the nun and left her house.  Soon he would be on his way back to England.  If he had learned one thing since leaving Constance, it was that his life would be nothing without her.  She haunted his dreams and his waking thoughts.  He had wondered if he could love her, but if this tortured feeling of despair was anything to go by he loved her more than he’d ever thought himself capable.

             
‘Constance,’ he muttered as he strode towards the hostelry.  ‘God forgive me for my jealous pride.  I should never have spoken to you that way – never have left you without making sure you knew how much I cared…’

             
What would he do if he had lost her?  No, it could not be.  He would find her wherever she was and once he had her, he would never let her go again.

Constance stepped down from the carrier’s wagon.  It was hardly a dignified way to arrive at her father-in-law’s house, but it was the only way she could afford to transport both herself and her husband’s body.  She had had difficulty in finding someone to transport the coffin from Dover.  Despite having all the paperwork in order, she had been met with sullen looks and shaken heads.  Her accent was slightly French even when she spoke English, which she hadn’t realised but it made people look at her askance.  They were suspicious and most carriers had refused to have anything to do with her.

             
However, she had at last managed to find someone to bring her here.  Looking about her now, she got down, instructing the carrier to stay where he was until she returned. 

             
‘Don’t be long, missus.  I reckon as folks like this won’t want this ‘ere cart parked out ‘ere fer long.’

             
‘No, certainly not.  My husband’s coffin must be taken into the house until he can be interred in the family crypt.’

             
The carrier stared at her but said nothing.  He’d hardly spoken all the way here and she thought he suspected her of having made a mistake once he’d seen where they were.  Jonathan’s home was large and magnificent but she was still wearing the clothes she’d travelled in and they did not resemble the apparel normally worn by a lady of quality.

             
A woman dressed in black answered her knock at the door.  She eyed Constance up and down and then sniffed.

             
‘It’s back door for the likes of you.’

             
‘I must see the earl,’ Constance said.  ‘I have brought Lord South’s body home.  My husband must be given a proper burial in the family crypt.  I have all the papers and proof of…’

             
‘What is it, Maisie?’

             
A very grand looking butler came to the door and looked down his nose at Constance.  ‘What is that wagon doing out in the courtyard?  Goods must be delivered to the back.’

             
‘She says it’s Lord Jonathan’s body.’

             
‘I sent word from Paris several days ago that I was coming.  Please tell the earl that I have brought his son’s body home.’

             
The butler frowned.  ‘And who would you be, miss?’

             
‘I am Jonathan’s wife,’ Constance said.  ‘I know my appearance is stained but I have not stopped to change since we left France.  I wanted to speak to my husband’s father.’

             
‘Earl South died more than a week ago,’ the butler said and frowned.  ‘You’d best come in, miss.  If your papers bear you out, the Earl of Summerton will speak to you on his return.’

             
‘It hardly matters about me – but Jonathan’s body must be carried to his room or the church so that he can be interred where he belongs, with his family.  I want nothing for myself.’

             
The butler’s manner changed, becoming slightly more respectful as he stood back to allow her inside.  ‘I shall have his lordship’s coffin taken to the chapel, miss – my lady.  You will come in and wait in the parlour until the earl returns.’

             
‘May I not have a room where I can at least wash and change my gown?’

             
‘Very well.’  He turned to the maid who had answered the door.  ‘Show this young woman to the blue guestroom and then take some hot water up to her.  You’ll be wanting something to eat, my lady?’

             
‘Yes, please.  Just some tea and bread and butter if you please.  Could someone pay the carrier two shillings?  I paid him for bringing us here but I have no more silver.’

             
‘I shall see to it,’ the butler nodded.  ‘Please remain in your room until the earl returns.’

             
Constance bit back an angry retort.  The butler appeared to think she was about to steal the family silver but if her letter had not been received it was understandable that her reception would not be exactly warm.

             
Maisie led the way upstairs and into a wing at the side of the main building.  She looked at Constance curiously as she opened the door for her to enter.

             
‘Are you really his lordship’s wife?’

             
‘Yes, I am.  I know this is what he would have wanted – to lie in his family’s crypt.’

             
‘How did he die, miss – I mean your ladyship?’

             
‘An evil man who was trying to abduct me shot him.  Lord South was a very brave man and he saved me from a terrible fate.  I nursed him for some weeks but he was very ill and died peacefully.’

             
‘It’s a pity his father didn’t know the truth.  He broke his heart after Lord Jonathan left.  I’ve glad you’ve brought him back, miss…whoever you are.’

             
Constance went into the bedroom provided.  She knew at once that it was far from being the best the house could provide but it was more than adequate for her needs.  If Jonathan’s uncle was as unfriendly as his servants she would not be staying long.

             
As Maisie went away to fetch water and some food, Constance sat on the edge of the bed.  She felt very tired and her spirits were low.  It was not to be expected that she would be welcomed with open arms but she had hoped that she would be able to tell Jonathan’s father of his bravery.  After travelling all this way to bring his body home, it was a blow to discover that it was too late. Perhaps if there really was a heaven, as the priests preached, Jonathan would find his father there and make peace with him.  She could only hope it was so.

             
Tears slid down her cheeks.  She suddenly felt so very alone.  Her purpose in bringing Jonathan here was all but over.  However, his family felt about her they would have to believe the documents she carried.  He would lie where he belonged and she could leave this house, go wherever she wished.

             
Just where could she go?  Since arriving in France she had seen only unsmiling faces and most of the people she’d spoken to had either been rude to her or simply ignored her.  How was she going to make a new life for herself here amongst these people?  It had been hard enough in France, but there she’d had a roof over her head and people she knew to help her.

             
She thought of Pierre and Heloise, and Madeline.  Perhaps she ought to return to the comtesse and seek employment, and yet she had sensed a new reserve in her mistress.  Madeline was angry because she’d borrowed her things, even though she had understood Constance’s reasons.  In time things might be as they once had been, but the difference was that Constance had protected Madeline and helped her when she was unhappy.  Now she was rich and free to live her own life, she no longer needed Constance’s help.

             
It made Constance sad to think that their friendship might not survive.  She had friends, of course.  The nuns would welcome her and she might find work of some kind, but her purse was slender and she was not sure she could afford to pay the fare back to France. It had cost more to arrange everything than she’d thought and she had not wanted to sell Jonathan’s watch or his ring.