Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 04] - Love's Duet (32 page)

"Ar—now that I be! Very worldy! Why, I been to
Paris
,
m'lady! Last spring—'fore Old Boney went on the rampage again, Miss
Hilby taked me with her!" She nodded proudly. "I bean't no country
pumpkin, Lady Sophia!"

There was little doubt but that the poor girl's intellect had become
disordered. Fighting tears, Sophia murmured, "I am so relieved to find
you looking well. And how very kind of Lord Bodwin to take you in."

"He bean't have taked
me
in, m'lady!" Indignation dawned in
the blue eyes. "Not as how he hasn't tried. Very quick with his hands
be his lordship! If Miss Hilby hadn't of asked me to come and help Lady
Branden and the little Mamzelly, I'd— Oh! M'lady! Come'ee now—sit ye
down! Oh, my gracious! Maybe'ee should put your pretty head 'twixt your
knees. I see the natural do that to Mrs. Grimsby once when she come
over queer with her fourth—right in the middle of the curate's sermon
on sin!"

Sophia heard the words but dimly. She felt faint. Before her eyes
was Camille, lying under that tree, so battered and bleeding… and she'd
not even stayed to help him… She clutched at the girl's hand. "Why are
you here? Miss Hilby did not send you!"

"But she did, ma'am. 'T'were that day as the Duke come so unexpected
like. I own I were disappointed 'cause my Mum and Dad live outside of
Cerne Abbas, and usually when we go to the Priory, Miss Hilby lets me
slip home for a bit. I knowed once the Duke come as how I wouldn't be
able to get away. Well, anyways, I likes to take a little walk afore
dinner—always has if the weather be fine—so as soon as Miss Hilby goes
down that afternoon, off I hops. I was by them trees along the road
when a chaise come flying up, and there's me old carpet bag alongside
o' the groom, and he's a'telling me to pop in, smart-like 'cause I'm to
go to Bodwin Hall and take care of the Mamzelly and Lady Branden, who
was a'coming the next day."

"But…" said Sophia dazedly, "Miss Hilby thought… we all thought… But—surely they had their maids at Bodwin Hall already?"

"Aye. That's what I thinked, too—though they're not the best I ever
did see, ma'am… always making sheeps' eyes at the footmen and a sight
too uppity—"

"Your father! What about your poor father?"

Nancy looked at her uneasily. "My—father? I never did get to see
him, to be sure, nor me Mum, bein's I spent the night under the hedge!
That were the worst of it! Mr. Taylor took a 'short cut,' he says! Long
way to Brummagem, more like! First the wheel come loose, then the team
broke free while Mr. Taylor was a'fixing of it. And I must say as he
was slow, was that there Mr. Taylor. My Ariel could've done it in jig
time! I was fair froze, and the end of it was we had to walk all the
way to a farm miles from nowhere, and Mr. Taylor comes and gets me when
the chaise is repaired and the horses found. Only that be the following
evening!"

"But—you sent word that your Papa was ill, and—"

"I never did! Why—that would be fair asking for me Dad to get struck down. If you'll excuse me for saying so, ma'am!"

"But—weren't Lady Branden and Mademoiselle Genevieve surprised to see you?"

Nancy considered this carefully. "Come to think on it, m'lady, they
was a little put about at first. But when I explained, they didn't go
into a taking. And next day, Mr. Taylor come with a message from Miss
Hilby that I was to set here and wait 'til she come back. Though how
she'll go on without me, I cannot think! No one but me knows how she
likes her hair, especial when—"

"This—Mr. Taylor," Sophia intervened, "do you know him well?"

"Never do have seed him afore… he must be new." Wrinkling her brow,
Nancy knelt beside Sophia's chair. "I bean't a clever maid, ma'am. But
something do be wrong, I think. I'd take it kindly if ye'd tell me of
it."

Sophia pressed a hand to her temple distractedly. "I cannot think.
My head feels so stupid… The note! The note you sent to Ariel, telling
him that Lord Damon had molested you in the wood! Didn't—"

Nancy gave a little shriek and, throwing both hands to her scarlet
cheeks, cowered, crying, "Oh! What a drefful bad thing for ye to say!
How could'ee think such wickedness of him? Or—of me! Oh… my…
Lor'
!" She grabbed up her apron, buried her face in it, and burst into tears.

Sophia gazed blankly at that bowed head. So he had been blameless,
as he'd told Luke. She'd known somehow that he just couldn't be that
kind of animal. But something was terribly wrong.
Someone
had
written the note. Why? And why hadn't he explained when she'd all but
begged him to deny it? Had he been affronted because she'd believed the
filthy lie? Was that why he'd let her go on thinking…

"M'lady?" Damp fingers touched her wrist. Nancy, her eyes abrim, stared at her in terror. "You said… I sent a note… to
Luke
?
Ma'am—I cannot write, but I never let him know that. I—didn't want him
thinking I'd nought in me head but hair. Did—does Ariel think—?"

"Yes. I fear he did think it—"

"Oh, God! Oh, my God!" Nancy sprang to her feet in a frenzy. "Then
Lord Damon do be dead! Or dying! I knowed the minute I seed ye so
sorrowful as there be something wrong. But I never thought… Oh, how
could
he believe it? Lord Damon, who has always treated me so kind and good. And never put a naughty hand on me. Oh! Oh! Oh!"

"Hush, dear." Sophia went swiftly to the hysterical girl. "They fought be—"

"Fought! Oh, ma'am—Luke loved Lord Damon like he was his own brother! He knowed his lordship couldn't fight him back!"

"But he did, and quite well, really," said Sophia, pride overtaking her. "I—"

"Doan't ma'am," Nancy sobbed. "Doan't'ee tell me of it. I can't bear
to hear! No man could never stand up to my Luke. Oh, poor Lord Damon…
such a fine handsome man to be cut down so young…" She raised a
tear-streaked face. "Be they after him, m'lady? Be the Runners after my
Luke already? Oh, may God forgive me for teasing him! I should've
married the dear soul long since. And now—it be too late! And I do so
love him."

"Stop, stop, my poor child, and listen to me!" Sophia forced her own
quavering voice to be heard above the violent sobs. "The Marquis was
not
killed. I haven't seen Ariel since, but he is trying to find you. And I know Lord Damon has men trying to find
him
. And that he does not intend to have him punished."

Nancy fell into her arms, and they wept together.

Sophia paused on the last flight of stairs, her eyes searching the
ballroom. She had summoned the housekeeper and placed Nancy in her
reluctant care, requiring that the girl be conveyed to Cerne Abbas at
once. Nancy, her swimming eyes bespeaking her gratitude, had mumbled a
promise that she would take Ariel to the Priory as soon as she found
him. Now, seized by a frightening sense of urgency, she looked in vain
for Camille. A boulanger was in progress. Bodwin was Genevieve's
partner—fortunately. She continued to the foot of the stairs, and at
once several gentlemen started hopefully toward her. Foremost among
them was Whitthurst, and she blessed him mentally for coming so swiftly
to her side.

"You look like the devil, Chicky," he said quietly, drawing her away.

Accustomed to such brotherly admonishments, she asked if he'd seen Damon.

"Went off with Vaille just a minute or two ago. One of the anterooms, I think. Sophia! Wait—you must not—"

But she was already hurrying into the side hall, eluding the friends
and acquaintances who sought to detain her. The occupants of the first
room, locked in a passionate embrace, were not even aware of her having
opened and closed the door. The lady in the next room let out a shriek
that betrayed her uneasy conscience, and there was not need for any
enquiry. The third door opened onto a double room in the outer chamber
of which stood a pale and frightened Charlotte Hilby. The closed
connecting door betrayed the presence of an extremely vexed gentleman
beyond it. Recognizing Vaille's voice at its most acid, Sophia hurried
to clasp Charlotte's outstretched hands.

"… moved heaven and earth," Vaille was saying, "to get you to Oxford
where you might have learned how a British gentleman behaves! Since I
did not do so, I can now only rely upon whatever the French have bred
into you. Which, I might add, seems precious little! Be silent, sir!
Nor dare to interrupt me again! You know how dear to me are your
Mother's possessions. Instead of selling these—" A small clatter was
heard. "Why in the name of God did you not come to me and explain that
you felt beholden to repay your investors? Oh, do not look so shocked.
I have ways of discovering such things."

"So… I see." Damon sounded breathless.

"And that," Vaille rasped, "is no answer!"

Charlotte drew Sophia to a love seat and they sat together, holding
one another's hands, each heart beating very fast. In a remote fashion
Sophia realised how incongruous it was that she should cling to this
woman she had often felt impelled to scratch. A woman she now knew she
would fight tooth and nail to prevent winning Camille. Yet, at this
moment, the only thing that mattered was that he was in great trouble,
and that each of them loved him.

"Since I have no intention of accepting your terms, sir," Damon
responded coolly, "I felt I could not approach you in the matter."

"Indeed! And would prefer to be cut off entirely, I take it!"
Receiving no audible reply, the Duke went on in a voice that made
Sophia's heart ache. "Am I then…
so
repulsive to you?"

There was a pause, after which Damon reiterated in a flat, unemotional tone, "I cannot accept your offer, sir."

Charlotte gave a little whimper. Sophia moaned a faint

"Why does Camille persist in antagonizing him?"

"In that case," Vaille said harshly, "I must insist upon a prior
claim to the rest of your Mother's jewels. They mean a great deal to
me, at least. But you will not be out of pocket. I will purchase them
from you."

Sophia winced, and Miss Hilby whispered a reproachful "Oh, Philip!"

Damon's response was markedly uneven. "I sold… them all, sir."

"
You… what
? The rubies, also? Now if I do not discover and
recover 'em speedily, by God, you'll rue the day!" That whiplash of a
voice was stilled, and then Vaille resumed, in a purring tone Sophia
found even more terrifying. "But I forget to whom I speak. Damon—oblige
me by removing your jacket."

"Dear heaven!" Miss Hilby was on her feet, her face white as death.

Sophia thought wretchedly, 'She knows… and still she loves him.'

The seconds seemed to stretch into minutes. Damon's reply was calm. "May I ask why, your grace?"

"You may not." And after a few more nerve-wracking seconds, "Thank
you. It grieves me to disturb so impressive a shirt, but—roll up your
left sleeve, if you please."

Miss Hilby gave a sob. Sophia was shaking, dreading what must follow.

"That will not be necessary," Damon said slowly. "I was a member of Cobra. My code name was Scorpion."

"Dear God!" The Duke's voice was hoarse. "How I prayed it was a lie!
For five hundred years, not one major blemish on our family name. No
madness, no cowardice, no deformities, and, above all—no disgrace! And
now… For Christ's sake—how can you stand there and say nothing? Look at
me, sir! Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth. Did you join
willingly? Or were you forced into it? Blackmailed? Tricked?" That
pained voice broke, and, on a near sob, the proud Vaille gasped, "Only
tell me and I'll believe you."

"I joined… willingly."

Vaille groaned. "You cannot have… enjoyed it. Give me that, at least."

Damon said haltingly, "I—thoroughly… enjoyed—"

Tormented, Vaille uttered an inarticulate cry. There was the distinct sound of a loud slap.

Sophia was on her feet now, her hands pressed to her mouth.
Charlotte rushed to fling open the door. Vaille, his expression a mask
of anguish, stood with one hand swung back for the return blow. Damon,
very erect, watched him unflinchingly, though his face was almost the
colour of his shirt.

"Philip!" Charlotte implored. "For the love of God!"

The Duke's blazing eyes shot to her. Somehow he was able to restrain
that upraised hand. The thin fingers clenched, then lowered.

The quivering silence held until the Duke's flushed cheeks paled,
his tumultuous breathing quieted, and the rageful grief faded from his
eyes. He took up Damon's jacket and tossed it to him. "You—sir," he
said with low-voiced contempt, "are no son of mine! If it was in my
power to cut you out of the succession, I would do so. You have left me
only one thing for which to be grateful… that my beloved wife did not
live to see this day! For her sake, I shall see to it that you are
provided with an allowance. Sufficient to live without shame.
Outwardly, at least. Should we meet in a public place, I shall thank
you to refrain from addressing me!" His voice failed him a little as he
saw the flinch that his son was unable to repress, but he ended
remorselessly, "It will be better for us both, my Lord Damon, do I not
set eyes upon you again."

The Marquis stood silent and unmoving. His hands clenched until the
nails bit into his palms, but the white, drawn face, the suffering in
those blue eyes, were more than he could bear, and his head went down.
He felt the movement of the air and closed his eyes as the Duke strode
past him.

Charlotte, grasping Vaille's arm with a heroism that awed Sophia,
pleaded, "Do not go! Philip, I beg of you. Do not let such terrible
words lie between you! Oh, Philip… please…"

Vaille detached her hand and swept on. Tears beading her lashes, she
turned from proud and stately Duke to shattered Marquis. "I'll try to
talk to him," she promised chokingly. She put a hand on his arm, but he
did not move. "Don't worry, Camille. I'll try to make him see reason."