Amanda Scott (23 page)

“What Papa did or didn’t do doesn’t signify in the slightest anyway,” she said abruptly, striving to remain calm. “Melanie is much too small and fragile. You will hurt her terribly.”

“Nonsense,” he said. Then, turning back to the child, he added sternly, “Do not make me come to you, Melanie.”

Still with that expressionless, faraway look on her face, Melanie began to move slowly toward him. It was, her aunt thought, watching her, as though she were in some sort of trance.

Jack’s mention of Emily’s father had triggered memories of certain anxious moments spent in Viscount Wingrave’s study, but she could not remember a single such instance when she had not fought buckle and thong to convince her father that she had done nothing wrong. Even when she had known that any attempt to justify her actions must prove ineffectual, she had striven mightily to achieve the impossible. Never had she simply stood and waited, resigned, for the ax to fall.

When she realized that she had fallen into a momentary daze and that Jack was actually reaching for Melanie, Emily leapt forward, crying, “No, you shall not!” Grabbing his arm with one hand, she pushed Melanie away with the other and said tensely, “Jack, you dolt, you mustn’t do this. Not, at least, until she has done her best to explain. You are angry because she won’t obey you, because she won’t just do what you tell her to do and behave as you want her to behave. You are accustomed to seeing people jump when you speak, my lord. If they don’t, you declare them disobedient, ill-tempered, or wicked. But Melanie is none of those things, so something must be very wrong. Even you must see that much if you will but look at her, really look at her.”

“I don’t have to look at her,” Jack snapped, “and if you think I am accustomed to seeing people jump when I tell them to do so, you cannot have been attending very closely these past weeks. Nobody jumps. Instead they either fight me tooth and nail with no good reason at all or they complain that things are no longer as they were when Laurence held the reins. They ought to be glad of that last fact, if only they knew. I have tried to make allowances, Emily. I have listened to you and I’ve tried to be patient. But enough is enough. Melanie has been given every opportunity to explain her actions, and she has refused to do so. The consequences are well known to her, and thus …”

But Emily was no longer listening to him. Having told him to look at Melanie, she had done so herself, only to discover that the little girl was staring at her as though she would send her a silent message. When Emily frowned, Melanie looked pointedly at Jack, then back at her again. Then she shook her head, only a little, but nothing more was needed to tell Emily that Melanie wanted her to desist, that she feared Emily was intentionally diverting the earl’s wrath to herself. Struck by a sudden idea, Emily turned back to Jack and spoke sharply, well aware that she was interrupting him.

“You are talking utter nonsense, Meriden. If you would only think instead of prating on and on like a self-centered lunatic, you would realize that something evil is at work here, that someone who knows about Melanie’s loans has attempted to lay the blame for the jewel thefts at her door. Anyone,” she added in a voice dripping with scorn, “anyone with a single thought in his head for anything other than his own selfish pride would realize that much. But you have no thought for anyone else, only for yourself. Well, if you are going to blame poor Melanie for continuing to obtain money by her odd methods, then you must blame me as well, for I have known exactly what she was doing for more than a week and I had no intention of ever telling you.”

“You
what
?” That his temper had reached its zenith was evident to the meanest intelligence, for his cheeks had grown crimson and his jaw was thrust out belligerently. His voice crackled with the two words he barked at her, and Emily could not doubt for a moment that she had gained his full attention.

“I knew,” she said, lifting her chin and looking directly into his eyes, willing him to rise high enough above his fury to follow her lead. Making him angry was dangerous, but she knew no other way to accomplish her purpose. “I followed her into the village that day I was attacked in the woods. I saw her give the money she got to an old woman on the road, but I promised her I would say nothing to you. Indeed, I would say nothing now if I thought any other course would answer the purpose. But you must see,” she added, piling fuel on what appeared to be a promising fire, “that that makes me quite as guilty as Melanie is. If you insist upon punishing her, sir, then you must punish me as well, and since you can scarcely take a riding whip to me—”

“The devil I can’t,” he snarled, reaching for her.

“Oh, no!” cried Melanie.

“Jack, no!”

But he held Emily’s arm now in a relentless grip. Clutching the slim leather-bound whip, he paused, looking sternly at Melanie. “You see now what you have brought about by your disobedience? Your aunt did very wrong to try to protect you, and she deserves exactly the same punishment you deserve.”

For a moment when he had first grabbed her, Emily thought Jack had not comprehended her objective, but these words, as well as the pause itself, restored her confidence. She relaxed, waiting for Melanie to speak up in her defense.

That Jack did not also wait came as an appalling shock to her. Before a cat could have licked its ear, he sat on the edge of the library table, hauled Emily across his knee, and awarded her firm backside one single fiery stroke of the whip. Struggling frantically but futilely, Emily shrieked at him to release her, to put her down at once. Her cries were mere echoes, however, of Melanie’s.

“No, no!” the child screamed, rushing at him, clawing at his arms. “Don’t hurt Aunt Emily. I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you everything!” Bursting into tears, she flung herself protectively across Emily, and Jack laid the whip back down upon the table and gently rested his large hand upon her flaxen head.

“Stand up, Melanie,” he said quietly after a long moment. “Aunt Emily cannot get up until you do.”

Slowly the child’s head came up and she stared at him doubtfully as she straightened. “You won’t hit her again?”

“No.” He helped Emily up, and there was a glint of amusement in his eyes when she turned on him angrily.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I did,” he said, cutting her off abruptly. “We can talk about it later if you like, but right now Melanie has something important to tell us.”

Melanie’s cheeks were tearstained, but at Jack’s words she straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I promised never to tell,” she said, the words coming forth with difficulty.

Emily moved to speak, but Jack put a restraining hand on his arm and said calmly, “You are going to tell us, Melanie, because you said you would do so. For a child to speak to the people who love her best when they insist that she do so is not a betrayal of confidence but a duty. Aunt Emily and I will both give you our solemn word that if the promise you gave was a true promise, given freely, we will not betray your confidence to anyone for any reason. Do you believe that you can trust us?”

Melanie sighed deeply and moved to place her small hand upon his knee. “It isn’t that I don’t trust you,” she said. “Truly, sir, it is not that.”

Emily said, “Then what is it, darling?”

“You will die.”

The three words were spoken so matter-of-factly that neither Emily nor Jack responded at once. Both of them stared at Melanie. There were tears in her eyes again, threatening to spill down her pale cheeks.

Emily looked at Jack and saw that he was frowning. She looked back at Melanie. “Do you mean to say that you believe we really will die if you explain everything to us, or only that we will be so angry that you fear—”

“She said you will die,” Melanie said without waiting for her to finish. “She said she would put a spell on anyone I told about her and that the spell would kill them dead. So you will both die if you make me tell you.”

Jack caught his breath in an audible gasp, then looked sharply at Emily. “You said you saw her give the money to an old woman the day you were attacked in the woods?” When Emily nodded slowly, still digesting Melanie’s words, he said, “Then I suppose you tried to follow the old woman afterward, did you not?”

She looked directly at him. His eyes were narrowed, and she experienced sudden gratitude that he was more interested in getting to the truth at the moment than in discussing the wisdom of her behavior. She nodded again.

“You knew all along then that it was not the jewel thief who attacked you.”

“Well,” she said, hoping she was right about his present priority of interest, “I could not be certain, of course, but I did think it was probably the old woman or her accomplice who struck me down.”

“You and I will talk more about that business later, as well,” he said meaningfully, still frowning. Then he turned back to Melanie. “Is the old woman a witch, sweetheart? Is that what you are not supposed to tell us?”

Melanie nodded, biting her lip, the tears now spilling down her cheeks.

“Well, then, there you are,” Jack said, spreading his hands and smiling at her. “You have nothing to trouble your head about, because you didn’t tell us about her, did you? First Aunt Emily saw her, and just now we guessed the truth all by ourselves. Tell us why you gave her the money.”

Melanie looked at him, searching his face as though to judge for herself whether his words held merit. Then, with another sigh, she nodded and brushed tears from her face with the back of her hand. “She told me to give her money.”

Jack grimaced. “And you just gave it to her? When did this all happen? The first time, I mean.”

Having begun, Melanie went on with an ease of speech that Emily had never before witnessed in her. Resting her right hand upon Jack’s thigh, she said, “I was walking into the village. It was …” She paused, silently ticking weeks off on her fingers. “…. twelve weeks ago, I think. She came out of the shrubbery just before I reached the moor. First she just said she wanted money. I told her I had only a shilling and I meant to buy a small silk scarf that Miss Brittan and I had seen at the mercer’s. She said I should give her the shilling instead if I didn’t wish her to put a spell on my whole family.” Melanie’s voice broke on the last words, and she looked pathetically at Emily. “She said the spell would make them all die by inches, one by one!”

Firmly repressing a shudder, Emily shook her head and said firmly, “No witch is strong enough to kill off an entire family with one spell, darling. Only consider for a moment. Can you imagine a witch strong enough to affect Miss Lavinia? She would snap her fingers at any old witch’s spell. As for me, I would dearly like to meet your witch face-to-face. I’d show her a spell or two of my own.”

“I too,” muttered Jack. He gave himself a shake, then said more casually, “Is that all, Melanie? She asked you for money and you gave it to her? How often did this happen?”

“Nearly every week,” Melanie said, regarding him more warily now, as though something in his tone had made her think him not so casual as he would have her believe. “At first I gave her my allowance because I usually hadn’t spent any of it, but then she wanted more and more. When I told her I hadn’t got any more, she said I’d better find a way to get it or I’d be sorry. I was afraid of her, Cousin Jack.” Her small hand tightened visibly on his leg, and she added earnestly, “I didn’t know what else to do. Papa had said once that it was easier to pay one big bill than a host of small ones, so I thought if I said that to Mr. Hayworth—the chandler, you know—he wouldn’t ask too many questions. When no one said anything right away, I didn’t think anyone had asked him any questions and that the reckoning had been paid when the other accounts in the village were paid.”

“Had you gone to the mercer,” Jack said, “someone would have discovered much earlier what you had done, but since your mama insists upon burning wax candles in every room of this house, we order them sent up once a year from London rather than purchasing them bit by bit locally. Had you thought about what would happen to you once you were found out, Melanie?”

She nodded, looking down, then quickly up again, as though she would not have him think her a coward. “I knew you would not like it. When you did find out, though, you didn’t really ever ask me why I had done it. Well,” she added defensively when he gave her a look, “you didn’t say I had to tell you. You were too angry with me because of
what
I had done. I don’t think you really wanted to know
why
I had done it.”

“To my shame,” Jack said quietly. He glanced at Emily. “You were right to call me a fool, lass.”

“I wouldn’t have told you then, anyway,” Melanie said. “I remember you were angry because I wouldn’t look at you when you spoke to me, but I couldn’t do so. I was afraid that if I began to talk at all, I would tell you about the witch. I couldn’t do that, so I pretended not to hear you.”

Emily smiled at her. “Cousin Jack doesn’t like his speeches to be ignored. It makes him cross.”

Jack grimaced. “You ought to know.”

This time when she looked at him, his gaze held hers for a long moment, and his expression brought warmth to her cheeks and a curious, unfamiliar tension to her midsection.

“Are you going to punish me now, Cousin Jack?”

When Jack looked down at Melanie, Emily experienced a sense of deep relief, feeling not unlike a rabbit released from a trap. His next words startled her.

“Did you give the jewels to the witch, Melanie?”

“I didn’t take the jewels,” Melanie said fiercely. “I told you. I wouldn’t do such a thing. That’s stealing.”

“So is what you did,” Jack replied.

“It isn’t the same thing,” she insisted.

“Perhaps it is not exactly the same thing, but it is still taking money that is not yours to take. I told you that before, did I not?”

Melanie nodded, chewing her lip again.

Emily said, “Jack, you—”

Silencing her with a gesture, he said, “It’s all right. I only want to be certain she understands the gravity of what she has done. When you know that what you do is wrong, Melanie, someone else’s commanding you to do it does not make you any the less responsible for your actions. I know you were frightened. I know you believed the witch could do dreadful things, but that meant only that to defy her required greater courage from you.”