Born of Persuasion (52 page)

Mr. Macy’s fingers pressed into my back as he ushered me into Lady Foxmore’s antechamber. He handed my wrap to the butler. “Inform her ladyship and Snyder of our arrival. My wife is fatigued and most likely famished—”

The sound of Lady Foxmore’s walking stick interrupted him. “Chance?” Ire tinted her voice. “What on earth do you think you’re doing, forbidding my servants to step foot off the property? I have errands I need—”

She moved the portiere out of her path. Her eyebrows elevated. “I thought you said you weren’t going to take possession of her yet. Has something happened? That’s hardly fair! I hope this means you’ve conceded your bet.”

Mr. Macy cast her an annoyed look as he threw off his cape. “I haven’t time. Julia and I are leaving as soon as possible. I desire time alone with her before we absent ourselves.” He turned to the butler. “Have a full tea prepared and brought to the library. Have one of my men run to fetch my wife’s trunk. Give him directions to Am Meer.” He looked at me and explained, “I had clothing waiting there for you, darling, as a precaution.”

I avoided looking directly at Lady Foxmore’s suggestive face as Mr. Macy led me to the library. Gloom coated the chamber upon our arrival. Mr. Macy strode to the window and opened moss-colored draperies. Weak light seeped through the dusk. He gestured with an out-turned palm for me to remain, then left.

Feeling at a loss, I sank into the settee and touched my face and neck, as if to ascertain I were in one piece. I swallowed,
wondering where Edward was and what he was doing. Surely by now he’d at least located Henry.

I wiped my cold palms over the skirt of my dress, wondering if they’d know to seek me at her ladyship’s. When we’d left Auburn Manor, Mr. Macy hadn’t told anyone where we were headed.

The butler rolled a tea cart into the room, then set a round table. Mr. Macy returned as the last dish was placed.

“Send Snyder to me,” he instructed, waving the manservant from the room. Mr. Macy observed me for a few minutes, turning only when footsteps pounded down the hall.

A man with angular features appeared.

“Have you news?” Mr. Macy asked.

The man’s nod toward me questioned whether Mr. Macy wanted him to speak in my presence.

“She’s my wife. You may speak, provided you mind your tongue.”

The contempt left the man’s features, and he nodded apologetically as he held out two posts. “Rooke came while you were gone.”

“Remain on the grounds.” Mr. Macy snatched the letters from his hand and closed the door. Turning to me, he waved at the spread. “Go on, dearest, eat. I have business.” He glanced at his watch. “If we leave in the next two hours, we’ll reach my London house sometime after nightfall. We’ll not be stopping at an inn, so this will be your last meal of the day.”

I sat feeling as displaced as a rag doll that had been dunked in the laundry and wrung out, but not returned to her little mistress. I stared at the tea, but my stomach felt envenomed with panic, making it impossible to eat. I glanced at Mr. Macy.

He sat at the desk and inspected the letters for evidence of tampering before he broke the gold seal of the first one. Though I felt no appetite, I obediently poured tea while I studied my husband. This was no ordinary business that occupied his mind. Something terrible was afoot. My hands grew cold, and I
turned from my speculations. It was best not to dwell upon it. I didn’t want to know more about Mr. Macy’s world. All I wanted to do was stay calm. It was only a matter of time until Henry or Edward arrived.

I stared at my tea, forcing myself to believe they would come. They simply had to. They wouldn’t leave me like this.

Mr. Macy crumpled the first letter and with gritted teeth hurled it into the cold grate. When he ripped open the next post, he stopped breathing.

He slid the note into his trouser pocket, went to the stocked trolley, and poured a brandy. Not following protocol, he took a slice of cold roast beef and wrapped a piping-hot roll around it. While he chewed, a hunted look spread over his features, and his glance kept returning to the window. “Stay here.” He rose, tossing his uneaten portion upon a platter of grapes. He yanked the draperies shut, filling the room with gloom. He lit a lamp but it did little to dispel the semidarkness. With a kiss on my forehead, he removed my teacup from my hands. “If you’re not hungry, sleep before our journey. You’re tired. Excuse me; I’ll return in a moment.”

I rested my head upon the arm of the velvet couch until he left; then I went to the window and parted the draperies. A gloomy mist enfolded the landscape.

I shivered and glanced at the hearth, wishing for fire. The white, crumpled paper Mr. Macy had tossed there still lay in the grate.

Edward’s words surfaced to memory.
“I’m absolutely convinced he’s evil, though I lack proof.”

Would it help, I wondered, if I found evidence? I tiptoed across the room and knelt. The house was still and silent, so I retrieved the letter and smoothed out the wrinkles.

Have checked from Lombard Street to the Thames. There is no sign of him. Will search Lothbury next.

I balled it back into a crumpled sphere and started to replace it, but a hand snatched mine.

“What the blazes do you think you are doing?” Mr. Macy asked.

I flinched and met his penetrating gaze. An admonition rose from within, warning me not to lie. “I was reading this.”

“Why?”

Surprised by the domination in his tone, I felt the impulse to lie but resisted it. “To . . . to see if it was extortion.”

His grip loosened, and the cold edge left his eyes. “Well, at least you’re an honest sneak. If you must know, I’m searching for John. Someday I intend to see him writhe at your feet for making that assertion. In the meantime, you need to make a decision, Julia, and I expect you to make it now. Decide what sort of marriage we’re going to have. I’m not releasing you from our union. You can either be a token wife, and after securing an heir, I’ll see that your needs will be provided and leave you to your tea circles and dinner parties. Or you can stop asking questions and accept me as I am. Which shall it be?”

I tried to withdraw my hand from his, but he held my wrist like a vise.

“Do you think I wish a cold marriage, outside your affections?” I whispered.

“Then for your own happiness, leave my papers alone.” He threw my hand down and rubbed his creased forehead. “I’m sorry, dearest. Today is not a day to test me.” He smiled, but it seemed forced. Worry lingered in his eyes. He bent over me, and with slow, provocative movement ran his fingers along the nape of my neck; then he kissed me near my ear. “Can you sit tight? Finish your tea; read a book.”

His movements felt mechanical, and his eyes kept returning to the door so that each caress was tainted. I met his gaze. “How much peril are we in?”

His body loosened. “I would not place you in danger, but
thank you for considering mine your own. Can you make yourself happy here? Just now, I’m not able to entertain you, though I intend to give you my full attention tonight.”

“Who is after you?” I insisted, suspecting he’d purposefully tried to embarrass me from further questions.

There was a loud thump in the hall. Mr. Macy gave me a warning look to remain and crept to the door.

He peered through the crack before closing it. “I swear that maid drops more things than she can possibly be worth.” He strode to me and offered his hand. When he pulled me to my feet, he pressed his nose into my hair, then kissed the tip of my ear. He led me to the couch, randomly selecting a book along the way. “My estates are secure. When we reach my house, you may wander freely. For now, read this. I’ll return shortly.”

Once the door closed, I flopped on the couch and stared at the volume in my hands, amazed that he expected me to just sit there reading like a good wife. I opened the calfskin book, unable to concentrate on the black print.

I shut my eyes and tried to picture describing this moment to the others. I tried to imagine what sort of questions they would ask, to see if I’d tried every manner of escape. All at once, I could imagine Henry’s sarcastic voice saying, “Please tell me you at least checked the windows.”

Shutting the book, I made my way to the glass panes that lined the wall. Her ladyship’s house was high off the ground, but I was willing to risk the drop. If I managed to make it outside, I decided, I would head for Edward’s and my oak. I would climb to the highest branch and wait. Eventually, if he knew I was missing, he’d look there for me.

I unlocked the latch and pushed, but the window did not budge. For five minutes, I jostled and shoved each window, trying to see if I could free one of them from whatever bound them shut.

Frustrated, I returned to the couch. Breaking the window
wasn’t an option either. The individual panes were too small to crawl through.

Knowing Elizabeth would ask whether I’d tried picking the lock with a hairpin, I slid one loose and tiptoed to the door. Though I angled and poked it several ways, the lock did not give. I pictured Elizabeth frowning as I retreated to the couch.

For the next several hours, I kept rising and looking out the window, hoping to see Henry or Edward in the distance, but each time the landscape was empty.

“What!” Mr. Macy’s harsh voice carried through the door, waking me from my shallow slumber.

The cushion sank beneath my hands as I pushed myself up. Mr. Macy swung the door open, and behind him stood the man I’d seen earlier.

“I’m sorry; were you sleeping?” Mr. Macy paused, I believed, to temper the anger in his voice. “Your lady’s maid has not packed for you yet. I sent my carriage to have your belongings loaded. She sent word that she decided to line your trunk with new paper and hasn’t finished. Apparently, she lost the key to the trunk after emptying it and scraping off the old paper.”

I realized he could only be speaking of Nancy. My heart pounded with some measure of hope. If Mr. Macy had sent a carriage to Am Meer, then Edward must know where I was.

Even if he didn’t, there was a small hope that Nancy would join me—and that brought relief. All at once, the events of the last few days compounded into a need for release, and I fought the urge to giggle.

“She has a stubborn streak.” I laughed with rising panic. Even to my ears, my laughter sounded freakish. “Only Reynolds can handle her.” Then, to keep Mr. Macy from suspecting Nancy’s ruse, I added, “This is her way of objecting that we
didn’t ask her to come along. Send a note, telling her she’s to join us later.” My laughter died into a sob just as Lady Foxmore appeared in the doorway.

“Problems with your wife, Chance?” she asked.

“Her nerves are overwrought,” he said, waving her silent. “Adelia, we’re going to spend the night. Prepare a new room. It’ll scarcely do to keep Julia in the one I’ve been occupying. There’s ash everywhere.”

“Are you going to require I obtain every key to this room from my servants as well?” Lady Foxmore asked.

“You know I am. Just humor me, Adelia. I’m in no mood for banter.”

“You disappointed me, child,” Lady Foxmore said as her footman placed oyster soup before her. “I’d had hopes you’d evade Chance longer, give him a taste of how it feels to be loved and spurned. After all those seductions, I cannot tell you the satisfaction it gave me to watch him on the receiving end.” She wagged a silver spoon at Mr. Macy. “Now you know how Lady Caroline felt the time you—”

“Be quiet, Adelia.” Mr. Macy gave her a black look. “Sweetheart, is your soup not warm enough? Send it back.”

I dipped my spoon into the dish, taking his hint not to give Lady Foxmore the satisfaction her jibe intended but feeling displaced anyway.

“Does your wife know you’ve requested the bishop to arrive tomorrow, to investigate whether her lover should be permitted to keep his church?”

My spoon clattered into my soup. “Edward’s going to lose his living!”

“He’s not losing his church, Julia,” Mr. Macy said. “I’ll make certain of it. Adelia, with your permission, I prefer silence.”