A Grave Inheritance (26 page)

Julian gave me an amused look. “Lord Fitzalan does not concern me.”

“Then you are a fool,” I snapped, “since he threatened to cleave you from neck to navel when I told him what happened in the garden.”

Contrary to my expectation, Julian’s mouth turned up at the corners. “He sees me as a threat. Otherwise he would never have made such a statement.” His smile grew wider. “I consider myself honored by the attention.”

Alarmed, I grabbed hold of his hand. “Julian, you mustn’t take his words lightly. I’ve seen Henry fight before. You’re no match for his skill.”

Julian’s fingers closed around mine, and his signet ring scraped my knuckle. I glanced down at the golden seal of the demi lion rampant imposed over the letter S.

“And I shall take your concern as a sign of your true feelings for me,” he said softly.

My mouth tightened with annoyance. “Please don’t Julian. My feelings for you are as a sister to a brother. You will only drive us apart by insisting on more.” I tried to pull my hand away, but he refused to let go.

His eyes appeared almost black as he stared at me, and I was struck yet again by the fine features that lent him a sort of unearthly beauty. Though I would never give breath to the words, last May I would have considered myself lucky if Julian had been the cousin I was meant to wed. But that man had died at sea, and then everything changed the moment I met Henry.

The mantel clock chimed once for the hour. I gave my head a quick shake to clear the errant thoughts.

“Selah, may I at least hope that someday you will return my feelings?”

I disliked hurting him, but ignoring the truth would cause greater pain for both of us in the future. “The only reason you have not already been challenged by Henry is because he knows how much your loss would hurt me. He understands why you proposed to me, since that is the custom for our kind. But he will not be so forgiving another time.” My expression turned stony. “And neither will I.”

A shadow darkened Julian’s face as the hope gave way to anger in his eyes. “Did you tell him about me?” he demanded.

I took a slow, steadying breath, trying to keep my own anger at bay. “Henry might not be like us, but he is the best man I know and he will never betray my trust.”

Julian released my hand, practically tossing it back in my lap. “You are a fool to trust him. Yet it appears I am the greater fool for trusting you.”

I flinched from the insult. “That is entirely unfair! After the stunt you pulled in the garden, Henry had every right to know the truth.”

Julian snorted, and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Rest assured, Selah, your betrayal has repaid me tenfold.”

“Oh!” I cried, clenching my teeth in frustration. “Why must you be so difficult? By swearing me to silence, your secret became my lie, and I won’t lie to Henry. Not anymore.”

Our eyes remained locked in battle. Footsteps crossed the foyer, and we stood up a split second before Lucy came into the room.

“Here it is,” she said, coming toward us.

Julian drew in a ragged breath, then turned to face her. “Ah, yes,” he said, taking the note. “I am your faithful servant, Lucy Goodwin.”

She smiled with a full measure of warmth. “Thank you, Julian. I do hope it is not too much trouble.”

“Not at all.” His expression held no sign of our fight, though the rigid line of his back told a very different story. “I should take my leave if the letter is to go out on the next packet-boat. Good day, ladies.” He left the room without a backward glance.

“What a dear young man,” Lucy said, still smiling. “So amiable and without a hint of guile.”

“A real gem,” I muttered under my breath.

Lucy pulled a small watch from her pocket and flipped open the case. “Nora and I had planned to attend a lecture on the migratory patterns of the English swallow at the Naturalist Society this afternoon. She thought you might be interested in attending and meant to speak with you about it this morning.”

I bet she did.
Nora was not one to suffer alone through something so dreadfully dull, especially when her best friend could be dragged along for some added fun. But with Nora otherwise engaged, I felt much less inclined to learn about English swallows.

“It would just be the two of us now,” Lucy said. “That is, if you would like to accompany me.”

I pursed my mouth and tried to convey the impression that I was seriously considering the offer.

“We can stop for tea after,” Lucy added. “Cate has recommended one teahouse in particular for its red currant scones.”

On the verge of declining, I bit back the words when I saw the eagerness in Lucy’s face. For all her stolid manners, she did not want to go alone.

“I would love to, thank you for inviting me.” I gave her my sincerest smile.

She glanced at her watch again. “The lecture begins at two this afternoon and I would like to secure good seats. Can you be ready to leave in ten minutes?”

I nodded and stood up from the sofa. “Let me just get my cloak.”

Perhaps the lecture wouldn’t be so bad after all. If nothing else, I had the red currant scones to look forward to. And, of course, I needed to remember how Henry and I had been spared a hasty journey to the continent this morning to escape the king’s ire. Even the quarrel with Julian had an unintended benefit, ensuring our separation for the unforeseeable future, and in essence, saving Julian’s life. Though Henry and Nora were both indisposed at present, when taken in perspective, the day had been well spent.

Then the third message arrived.

The same servant from earlier approached as Lucy and I left the drawing room. “A gentleman wishes a word, Miss Kilbrid.”

“Go see what he wants,” Lucy said, starting up the stairs. “I shall fetch your cloak and be down in a moment.”

“Thank you, Lucy. The gray wool should do well.” Following the servant into the foyer, I found James Roth waiting for me.
Hell and furies! What have I done to deserve this today?

“Good day, Miss Kilbrid,” he said.

It took a great deal of effort not to glare at him outright. “You wish to speak with me, Mr. Roth?”

He nodded and the corners of his mouth twisted to a grin that looked like it had been borrowed from a rat. Or maybe a troll. “I have been charged by his grace, the Duke of Norland, to deliver a message to you.”

My stomach flipped over a split second before it dropped to the floor. “And what is this message?” I asked, miffed by the obvious tremble in my voice.

James handed me a note that bore a similar seal to Henry’s. Just bigger and more intimidating. “He wishes to invite you to dine at his home this Thursday eve.”

I stared at the note, making no attempt to open it. In truth, I doubted my fingers capable of completing the task at the moment.

“You look very pale, Miss Kilbrid,” James said, his voice thick with mock concern. “Do you wish me to call a servant?”

Setting my shoulders, I forced myself to meet his gaze. “There is no need, Mr. Roth. Please tell the duke his invitation has been most eagerly received and that I look forward to making his acquaintance.”

James’s trollish smile slipped a bit. “You are to arrive at seven sharp, and be aware that his grace has no patience for tardiness.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I trust you can find the Fitzalan residence. If you get confused, it is the largest private home in London.”

A tirade of curses hit the back of my throat. I pushed them down, managing to keep my face in a rigid mask of civility. “I shall manage well enough, thank you, sir.”

James paused, and his eyes glinted with malice and judgment. “You will find the duke to be a shrewd man, Miss Kilbrid, and not easily taken in by a quick wit or a pretty face. Do not be surprised if he has seen through your guise before the end of the first course.”

His rudeness felt a slap to the face. Red haze trimmed my vision, and I clenched my hands to keep from striking him. Several long seconds passed before I could speak with any measure of calm. “Your concern is most appreciated, Mr. Roth. Though I do suppose if so shrewd a man has found even a scrap of goodness in someone as mean-spirited as yourself, he should have no trouble finding a plentitude in me.”

James sucked in a hard breath. “You impertinent little upstart—”

I flicked my hand impassively. “Yes, yes, Mr. Roth. I’ve heard it all before. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve a lecture to attend, and so must end this delightful conversation. I trust you can find the door. If you get confused, just remember that it is rather large and directly behind you.”

Rage pulled at James’s usually handsome features. A ruddy tinge crept over the top of his cravat, all the way to his flaxen hairline.

I watched him with wide-eyed concern and just a hint of a smirk. “Are you feeling unwell, sir? Do wish me to ring for a servant?”

His nostrils flared. Spinning on his heel, he marched to the door, nearly dislodging the iron hardware in his haste to wrench it open. When it slammed, I felt a rush of victory—right before I remembered the note still clenched in my hand, and what awaited me in three days’ time.

Chapter Thirteen

The Dragon

Nora did not return home until well past the supper hour. The time seemed to drag on for an eternity, each passing minute winding my nerves further. With Cate out for the evening and Lucy nursing a headache in her room, I sat alone in the front drawing room, thoughts churning as I stared blankly at the novel in my lap. The seconds ticked away on the mantel clock, and I soon found myself tapping in time against the open page.

What is the duke playing at?

This question had dominated my thoughts ever since the message arrived, courtesy of James Roth. Obviously, Richard Fitzalan, the Duke of Norland, wanted to meet me without interference from Henry, and so had contrived an errand to occupy his son for several days. Why then had similar invitations been extended to Nora, Lucy and Cate? If the duke wanted a private interview, a crowd of ladies seemed counterproductive to his purposes. Unless, his intentions were less nefarious than I first suspected. Perhaps the man just wanted to make the acquaintance of his future daughter-in-law. So, why the secretive behavior? Why had the duke sent Henry away ignorant of his plans?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I pressed a hand to my forehead to counter the mental jig.
Good gracious!
I needed Nora. She would listen to every detail, and then with a cool head, point out the most probable scenario.

The seconds continued to tick away, and just when I felt at my wits end, the front door opened. My ears pricked up at the sound of Nora addressing a servant. Tossing the book aside, I ran into the foyer to meet her.

“Where have you been all day?” I asked by way of greeting as the footman took her cloak.

Nora looked at me, her face glowing with joy. “Oh, Selah, I’ve had the most wonderful time.”

Her answer made me laugh despite my own worries. “I’m not surprised. Between the two of us, you were always the better Samaritan.” Not that I didn’t gain a measure of satisfaction from such services, but when it came to those in need, Nora was practically a saint. “In truth, you are the only person I know who would claim raptures after spending the entire day amongst the old and infirm.”

A flash of confusion crossed her face.

“I hope it wasn’t a secret,” I said, somewhat puzzled by the reaction. “Your mother told me you were visiting indigent Quakers with Margaret Fox.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Nora rushed, her smile returning in full force. “So many people in need. You would never believe how hard we worked today. I am utterly exhausted.”

Nora started for the stairway and I fell into step beside her. The scent of hot wax followed us from the numerous candles burning in sconces along the wall. So much light at nighttime was an unknown extravagance in the Colonies. Even more, the faint scent of roses was new tonight and must have cost Cate a pretty penny.

A familiar melody settled in my ear, and for the first time I bristled at the sound of Nora’s sweet voice. “Isn’t that from
The Beggar’s Opera?
”

The humming cut off at once. “Is it? I swear, I can’t recall.”

“Miss Rose sang it in the second act.”
While she visually molested Henry.

“You must be right.”

“Now the run has ended, I guess she’ll be looking for a new part.” If
Tom Thumb
had any jades, courtesans or flirts in the cast, Justine could saunter over to the Haymarket Theater for the role.

“James said the play has been extended for another week. Something about popular demand.”

I sniffed indignantly. “One time was more than enough for me. The writing was downright lewd and that Peachum character a trollop if ever I saw—”

Nora coughed, as though needing to clear her throat. “Did you and Henry do anything fun today?”

“No, he had to leave London early this morning.”

“That’s too bad. I hope you weren’t too lonely with only my mother for company.”

“Well, it’s hardly been dull around here while you were away. I dare say you’ll never guess who has invited us to dine this Thursday evening.” I paused just long enough to draw breath, and caught another whiff of roses. “Henry’s father, Richard Fitzalan.”

The name dropped like a sodden rag. “That’s nice,” Nora said, neither slowing her pace nor sparing a glance in my direction.

I stopped in mid stride. “Didn’t you hear me?” I sputtered at her back. “Henry’s father has invited us to dine. And that’s not even the worst of it. I’ve so much to tell you, I don’t know where to begin.”

She reached the upper landing, and I scampered the last few steps to catch up. “Selah, do you mind if we talk about this tomorrow? I’m so tired, I can’t see straight.”

My mouth fell open, accompanied by a curt breath of disappointment.

Nora gave me a pleading look. “Please don’t be mad. I promise we’ll talk later.”

In the foyer, her excitement must have overshadowed the exhaustion I now saw so clearly. A twinge of guilt softened my disappointment, and with some effort, I even managed a weak smile. “A good night’s sleep will do us both good. My news can wait until tomorrow.” Assuming I didn’t explode from anxiety in the meantime.