A Virtuous Lady (27 page)

"Are you of the Grenfell or the Langland branch of the family?" asked Ravensworth conversationally, accepting a cup of tea from Briony. He noticed a slight tremor in her hand and his brows knit together.

"The Langland," said brother and sister in swift unison.

"The Langland branch," repeated Mr. Caldwell in a soft, colonial drawl. "Our connection is very tenuous. Cousins—two or three times removed, I collect."

This vague response did nothing to satisfy Ravensworth's curiosity. By dint of persistent questioning he tried to pin down the precise particulars of Mr. Caldwell's parentage, domicile, and purpose in coming to England. At the end of fifteen minutes or so, he found himself hardly the wiser. Just when he was closing in on his quarry, Briony would interrupt with a non sequitur and the conversation would be directed into other channels. In other circumstances, Ravensworth would have forced the issue, but given
Briony's
penchant for absolute
honesty,
he dismissed from his mind the notion that something of moment was being concealed from him.

"Do you remain long in England?" inquired Ravensworth politely.

"Not long now. There is some trifling business of a personal nature which needs to be settled before I take passage for home. I reckon I have one more week at my disposal. I hope I do not inconvenience you with my presence here?"

"Not at all," Briony interposed swiftly. "Families must
stick together. We are delighted to be of service."

"Quite so!" seconded Ravensworth, silently wondering what sort of service Briony referred to. It dawned on him that Vernon and Caldwell had perhaps landed in some spot of bother peculiar to gentlemen of that age and had deemed it prudent to spend a week or two rusticating in the country. The thought that
Briony's
male relations were far from being the pattern cards of rectitude which she supposed them, he found quite cheering. Obviously he had disturbed them as they had been making the facts of the case known to Briony. From his own experience, he conjectured that they were escaping the clutches of some scheming wench, a jealous husband bent on revenge, or the strong-armed men of the notorious three
percenters
. Briony was probably wishing him at Jericho this minute so that she could ring a peal over the young bounders. No, that supposition would not do for Mr. Caldwell. He looked to be a young man who knew how to handle himself. His every move exuded a quiet confidence. Ravensworth's gaze shifted to Vernon. Now that lad was
very
ill at ease.
Very well then.
Caldwell had seen fit to rescue Vernon from some imbroglio in town and had brought him to the bosom of the family for protection. That must be it—or something close to it. Ravensworth smiled indulgently at his young brother-in-law, and on seeing it, Vernon began to quake in his shoes. The
Marquess
rose leisurely and made his excuses, saying that he looked forward to furthering Mr. Caldwell's acquaintance at dinner. As he passed Vernon's chair, he clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Don't take your sister too much to heart, my boy. I'll stand bail for you if you need a friend."

When the door closed behind him, the three occupants turned back to stare at each other. Only Caldwell's eyes held a spark of amusement. "His lordship has jumped to the wrong conclusion."

"What conclusion?" asked Briony
tremulously.

"
That Vernon has been up to some devilry and needs
rescuing. Not an unusual circumstance for a callow youth separated from his family. Your husband's logic, in this instance, is far out."

"I
lied
to him," said Briony, her voice breaking.

"What possessed you?" asked Vernon, starting to his feet and beginning to pace. "There was no need for it. I would never have brought John here if I had not
known
that Ravensworth had some sympathy for the Americans."

"No, no! You are mistaken, Vernon. Ravensworth is loyal to the Crown, right or wrong. He told me as much himself a few nights ago. Indeed, he took me to task for expressing my disgust for the futility of war. I could not reveal the fact that you are an American, Mr. Caldwell. He would have handed you over to the authorities without hesitation. To him, you are an enemy, you see."

"Nevertheless," began Caldwell seriously, "I still think we ought to apprise Ravensworth of the truth. I am no threat to England. It is because the war in Canada is going badly for the British that I have suddenly become persona non grata here. We Quakers are held in the deepest suspicion by both sides because we refuse to take up arms. Your husband seems to be a man of reason. Let me tell him the truth. And if he does choose to hand me over to the authorities, I stand in no real danger. His Majesty's Government will simply confine me in a comfortable cell for the duration of the war."

"Tell Ravensworth that I lied to him?" asked Briony, her whole demeanor expressing her horror. "He would never forgive me. He would kill me! Say no more on that score, Mr. Caldwell. I would never be able to face him again." She looked at him with mute appeal.

"Nor I," said Vernon gloomily. "Ravensworth is generous to a fault. He's bailed me out of a scrape or two in my time— nothing that you need worry your head about, Sis. Besides, he's bailed you out of a few scrapes too, as I hear. He's top o' the trees, Mr. Caldwell, but damnably proud. Thing is, I should hate to lose his good opinion, and if he finds out that I've been party to a lie, I think I should."

Mr. Caldwell took only a moment to come to a decision.
"Very well then.
Although I cannot like it, it shall be as you say. The less you know of my plans, the better. Suffice it to say that I shall be leaving for the coast under cover of darkness within the week. Vernon will accompany me then make for London. Since Ravensworth takes us for a couple of young bloods hot on the scent of—well, never mind, he won't be in the least surprised at our hasty departure, quite the reverse I should think."

"How did you come to meet Mr. Caldwell?" Briony asked Vernon.

"Through some mutual acquaintances who knew of our Quaker sympathies.
They were looking for a safe house near the coast where John could lie low until there was a boat to take him off. When I got your letter practically begging me to present myself at Oakdale, it seemed like the perfect solution, especially as I personally have heard Ravensworth say that successive governments have mishandled the American question for decades. I was sure he would be sympathetic."

"You must be mistaken," said Briony earnestly. "As a peer of the realm, he would be regarded as a traitor should he afford aid to an enemy of the Crown. He told me so himself. Trust me in this."

Mr. Caldwell looked closely at Briony. "Set your mind at rest, my lady. Ravensworth shall not hear the truth from me. I shall call you Cousin
Briony
, if I may, and of course, you must call me John. If we are to proceed with this deception, then let it be with a modicum of caution. Now what is our relationship precisely? Is there some Langland relative who
emigrated
to Canada whom I might claim as my antecedent?"

"Not to my knowledge," said Briony deep in thought. "As a matter of fact, we have no Langland relatives except an elderly spinster aunt in
Shropshire
. That is why Vernon and I became wards of our uncle, Sir John Grenfell. No matter, every family has some black sheep in its past who has
emigrated
to the colonies at some time or other, even if they are in ignorance of it."

Mr. Caldwell's lips quivered at this unconscious slight on his parentage.

"We must invent a relative," Briony went on, unmindful of her companion's suppressed mirth. "Let us say that my father had an uncle, a certain John Langland who
emigrated
to Canada under some cloud or other. His daughter married your father. That should do it. What do you think, Mr. Caldwell?"

"Cousin John," he corrected with a twinkle in his eye. 'To quote the Bard, Cousin Briony, 'O what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.' Let that be our story then, but pray do not work it out too precisely. I doubt if we will be called on to do more than acknowledge a distant connection. Fortunately, I shall soon be gone and there is no one at Oakdale who can disprove our relationship. Your husband will never learn of your deception unless you choose to tell him."

On that note, the three conspirators withdrew to their respective chambers to dress for dinner. Briony took comfort from Mr. Caldwell's intelligence that there was no one at Oakdale to disprove the deception which she had seen fit to perpetrate on Ravensworth. How he would despise her if he knew of it. She had set herself up as a paragon of virtue. He trusted her implicitly and she had betrayed him. She could not bear to think of Ravensworth's disgust should he ever find out. He would never believe that her motives were pure. She had been faced with two choices—to tell Ravensworth the truth and so have Mr. Caldwell thrown in jail, perhaps for years, or to lie to Ravensworth and help Mr. Caldwell escape. She had chosen the lesser of two evils, but

Ravensworth would never understand that. Why should he? She had vilified him at every opportunity, denigrating his Code of Honor, subjecting him to the severest censure. She would not, could not, face him with her lie. To do so would be to lose his regard forever, and that was not to be borne. If she must deceive him, she must do it convincingly.

It was fortunate for Briony that Nanny was not in residence at Oakdale Court, for that shrewd retainer of long standing, would have immediately tumbled to the fact that her "
nurseling
" was suffering from a Surfeit of Conscience, and Nanny would have given her young mistress no peace until she had wormed out of her the reason for the hint of tragedy which lurked in the depths of her troubled gray eyes. Ravensworth, on the other hand, never before having been in the position of catching Briony out in any sort of wickedness, put quite a different complexion on his beloved's soulful expression and he visibly bristled at the patent reproach he read in her mournful gaze.

It was evident to him that his former less-than-exemplary conduct had put him beyond the pale and that he was no nearer attaining those privileges of a husband which he so earnestly desired. To add insult to injury, in his opinion, Briony was devoting the hours at her disposal in catering to the whims and fancies of her long-lost cousin and had taken to reserving her smiles (and dimples) not to mention her clear-eyed gazes for that unexceptionable young gentleman while with her lord and master she was reticent to a degree and would hardly deign to look in his direction. Ravensworth took it into his head that Briony was paying off old
scores by setting up a mild flirtation with her cousin. In other circumstances, the
Marquess
would have taken to the natural, inoffensive manners of Mr. Caldwell, but a rival for his wife's affections was something that was not to be borne.

Smarting under
Briony's
blatant neglect, Ravensworth took to dropping in on his neighbor, Lady Adele, and found her mode of extravagant but harmless flattery very soothing to his wounded ego. In some situations, his lordship was willing to concede, a woman's lack of originality in conversation was not necessarily a detriment to whiling away a very pleasant hour or two. Adele might not be an intellectual giant—some might even call her bird-witted— but when it came to making a gentleman feel cosseted, the Countess had few equals among her sex. In this accomplishment, his Marchioness was sadly lacking.

That Briony made no objection to his frequent absences from her board, however, did nothing to allay the suspicions which her distant manner had engendered—quite the reverse. Indeed, Ravensworth's keen eye perceived that, far from incurring
Briony's
displeasure, his truancy seemed to meet with tacit approval. Her indifference left him more shaken than he cared to admit. And when next he entered the breakfast room and the spate of
Briony's
uninhibited laughter to a smiling Caldwell froze in mid-stream, Ravensworth's hackles began to rise.

"By the by," he threw at her carelessly when he chanced to encounter her later that morning quite alone as they passed on the oak-paneled staircase, "don't hold dinner for me this evening, my pet. I am promised to Adele—didn't I tell you? She has asked me to put her in the way of a team for her town carriage. Haldane's cattle are to be auctioned off today, and with any luck, she should manage to pick up something suitable without having pockets to let after the transaction. No saying how long the business may take, though."

Briony shot a penetrating glance at him. "Adele? When did you see her?" she asked sharply.

Ravensworth smoothed an invisible wrinkle from his sleeve. "As a matter of common courtesy, my dear, I have paid my respects at
Beechwood
whenever I have been in the vicinity—every other day, I collect."

Ravensworth had the satisfaction of seeing the shock register on
Briony's
face at this bold statement. In a moment, she had recovered herself sufficiently, however, to go on with a semblance of her usual calm.

"How—thoughtful of you, my lord.
And do you take it upon yourself to be on such terms of—civility with all our neighbors?"