Provocative in Pearls (14 page)

He set the letter aside. “We must go to there at once, of course.”

“You must take the coach and four. I will give you the names of the staging inns where our spare teams are kept,” Lord Sebastian said. “If the weather holds, you should be there by midday tomorrow.”

Verity looked on, dismayed, as they made plans. Panic fluttered in her. She felt as if she drove a team of horses herself, and had suddenly lost hold of the ribbons.

“What if we do not rush to Surrey?” Verity blurted. Her question interrupted some advice Lord Sebastian was offering Hawkeswell. Everyone looked at her.

“What if that express rider had not found this house? What if we were staying another day’s journey away from Surrey?”

“Do you mean, what if you were actually declared dead?” Hawkeswell asked. “We would then have to explain the mistake when we did arrive back in the county. It will be less complicated if a wrongful determination were not made in the first place.”

“Well, I think if someone is declared dead, she should be allowed to be so for a few weeks if she chooses,” she muttered.

Encountering only blank faces around the table, she conceded, “But, of course, that is not possible. We must ensure an error is not made. I will go to my chamber and prepare.”

She took her leave to make ready for the journey. She also needed to prepare for the implications of leaving this house.

The agreement forged in Daphne’s greenhouse would end when the coach left this property. So would the promises. In the future she would have to rely on her own resources to hold off Hawkeswell.

 

 

S
usan had most of the garments packed in ten minutes. Verity thanked her for her service, gave her some of the coins left from Hawkeswell’s fifteen pounds, and dismissed her. Then she tucked her personal items, her hair-brushes and violet water and two haircombs, in the valise.

The door opened and Hawkeswell entered.

She gestured to the valise. “I am all prepared.”

He looked at the valise, then at her. “You are unhappy.”

“I thought we would remain here longer. I thought—” She picked up her bonnet and turned to the looking glass.

“You thought to have more time to convince me of your plan,” he said.

“I think that you should give me the days in Surrey that I would have had here.”

“One day or thirty, it will not matter, Verity. I no longer want to let you go.”

No longer
. Her heart sank. Those kisses on the hill had indeed changed his mind. He was going to force her back into this marriage because of a brief pleasure and a passing desire.

She glanced back at him, then returned to tying her bonnet’s ribbons. She was on the verge of weeping.

Her situation was going to be much harder now. She had hoped to be home when the world found out she was alive and well. She had planned to use the months while she petitioned for that annulment seeing to her father’s legacy, and discovering what had become of Michael, and ensuring Katy’s welfare. Just her presence near the ironworks would help, and stay Bertram’s hand as he dealt with those good people.

“Forgive my emotion.” She wiped her eyes. “I see myself living among strangers now, people who have no reason to be kind to me.”

“You fear your future too much. It will not be like that.”

“Are you so democratic, Lord Hawkeswell, that you will permit me to go home, to visit the people I know?”

“I do not see why not.”

“How often?”

“You can go as often as it is convenient for me to take you there.”

“Why do I think that you will rarely find it convenient?”

He revealed no vexation with her. If anything, his expression looked sympathetic. “Because you are obligated to think the worst of me. If you do not, you will never be able to lie to yourself.”

That took her aback. She turned from the mirror and faced him. “I do not lie to myself.”

“You have spent the last two days lying to yourself, I think. You have been telling yourself that you can still convince me to want to be rid of you. You have been telling yourself that accepting this union means victory for your cousin and defeat for you, when it does not have to be that way.”

“I may still be angry with my cousin, but my obligations to him, and his authority over me, are over no matter what happens, so that anger does not signify anymore.”

“Then I must assume that the anger still in you is directed toward
me
, for being a party to Bertram’s scheme. You do not want to give me victory either.”

“I do not want to give the scheme itself victory.
Nor should I have to.
You pretended to understand that, but it was only one more ruse to get what you wanted and put me off my guard.”

He half smiled. “Ah, you
have
been lying to yourself. Not only are you still claiming that you did not like that pleasure, which is a blatant falsehood; now you have been telling yourself that I importuned you on that hill, as part of the grand plot.”

She glared at him.

“Did you pick through the memories carefully before concluding that, Verity? As you weighed my nefarious behavior, did you relive the pleasure of my mouth on your breast and my hand on your—”

“Most certainly not!” She flushed. “You are a scoundrel. I know your game, however.” She snatched up her valise and strode to the door.

“You may think that I am a scoundrel, Verity, but I am also your husband. And if there is a game at work here, I have already won.”

“
S
hould this not be determined by a judge of one of the high courts, Mr. Thornapple? I agreed to hold this new inquiry because the disappearance occurred in this county, but since there is no body, my duties are unclear.”

“In such cases, sir, there are no regularities, due to the situation being so rare. I begin with you today, and will then bring your determination to the King’s Bench for an official declaration of death. As you say, the circumstances began here, and a local inquiry is as good a place to start as any.”

Verity heard the exchange as the door to the library opened. The inquest was under way.

Hawkeswell paused at the threshold. She watched him scan the group who attended the proceedings.

“There is, as you know, a presumption of the continuance of life when a person goes missing,” the coroner said. “Hence the tradition of waiting seven years.”

She had expected an aging country squire to serve as county coroner, not a fashionably dressed man no more than thirty years of age. This was a good property, and his library, which served the meeting, had tasteful furnishings and handsome bindings.

Mr. Thornapple cut a courtly figure himself, with his white hair and impeccable grooming. A solicitor of humble origins, he had been one of the few men her father trusted completely.

Mr. Thornapple cleared his throat. “The point of law that applies is the balance of probabilities, and that negates the presumption of which you speak. If a ship goes down, there is no longer a presumption of the continuance of life for the crew that goes missing afterward. There is no wait for seven years to pass before their estates can be settled. The balance of probability says the crew drowned. Hawkeswell’s bride went missing, and evidence of her demise in the Thames has accumulated. Furthermore, if she still lived, surely she would have made her existence known by now. What other choice would she have, unless she wanted to starve? Furthermore—”

“I must interrupt, sir,” the coroner said. “I see that Lord Hawkeswell has arrived. Join us, Lord Hawkeswell, since this inquiry is at your request as well as Mr. Thornapple’s.”

Heads turned toward the door where they stood. Verity did not see Bertram or Nancy, and the sick tightness in her stomach eased.

A dark-haired woman dressed all in lilac smiled brightly at Hawkeswell. Verity recognized her as Colleen, who had first introduced Bertram to her cousin, in the interests of helping Hawkeswell solve his financial problems.

Hawkeswell took Verity’s arm and escorted her toward the desk where the coroner sat. “It was at my request, but I must withdraw it now. There is no need to continue.”

“My lord, it is time to resolve this,” Thornapple said in a tone both exasperated and confused. “You yourself encouraged me to—”

“The inquiry is unnecessary because my wife has finally been found alive and well, as you will see.” He positioned Verity squarely in front of the coroner. “Please remove your bonnet, Verity.”

She untied the ribbons and removed it. Mr. Thornapple gaped, then gave Hawkeswell a very severe stare.

“This is the young woman, Mr. Thornapple?” the coroner asked. “Do you know her on sight?”

“I do. It is she, Verity Thompson, heiress to Joshua Thompson’s estate.”

A wave of mumbles and exclamations flowed behind her.

Mr. Thornapple’s expression changed from astonished to angry in a blink. “I should like to know where she has been these two years. Did you hide her away, Lord Hawkeswell? I cannot think of how that would benefit you, unless you thought this dramatic revelation would be amusing one day.”

“It would not benefit me in the least, as you know better than anyone. I discovered her whereabouts by accident less than a week ago. I would have informed you at once, but I did not anticipate that you would find success in requesting a new inquiry so quickly.”

“Fortunately, not too quickly,” the coroner mused. “A day sooner and I might have found the balance of probabilities indicated she was dead.” He scrutinized Verity, but not too critically. He seemed fascinated by the development, and not sorry to be hosting an event that would be the talk of the county by nightfall. “Where were you all this time, Lady Hawkeswell?”

“In Middlesex.”

Mr. Thornapple all but spit. “Then you could not have missed the fact that your death was presumed.”

“What were you doing in Middlesex? How did you come to be there?” the coroner asked.

“That is between my wife and me,” Hawkeswell said. “For your purposes today, her living, breathing body is enough, don’t you agree?”

“More than enough.” The coroner could not hide his amusement. “I would say we are most thoroughly adjourned.” He stood, and bowed to Verity. “It is my pleasure to meet you, Madam. Thornapple, let me offer you some brandy before you have apoplexy. Lady Hawkeswell, allow me to introduce you to some of your neighbors. Many were at your wedding, I expect, but you have probably forgotten their faces by now.”

The sounds of moving bodies churned behind her. Mr. Thornapple positioned himself right in front of her and Hawkeswell. “I expect some answers.”

“In due course,” Hawkeswell said curtly. “We should be in London soon.”

Mr. Thornapple’s anger melted into something more troubled. He peered at Verity hard. “Is there anything that you want to say to me
now
, Lady Hawkeswell?”

I ran away because I did not consent freely
. Should she tell him that, here, now? Would it make a difference if she did?

She looked around. The neighbors were dawdling, loath to leave a performance that had proven far more entertaining than they expected when they wandered here to pass the day. Most eyes were on her and Hawkeswell, but the coroner’s brandy was being sampled by several men who had decided the shocking surprise called for fortification of their senses.

“I thank you for being a true steward of my property these last years,” she said to Mr. Thornapple. “I indeed had reasons for not making myself known to you sooner. However, as Lord Hawkeswell said, they will be revealed in due course. I do not want to make this more of a theatrical event than it already is. I look forward to calling on you in London very soon.”

Mr. Thornapple’s nod turned into a bow. He took his leave.

Verity braced herself, and turned to Hawkeswell. He had heard what she said. His expression appeared much like it had been when they left Airymont.
If there is a game, I have already won.
The cost had been high, however. His neighbors examined her with curiosity, but the looks they gave him contained too much amusement for a man’s pride.

“There is no way to remove you without greeting them,” he said, indicating the people between them and the doorway. “We will make quick work of it. God knows I have no desire to be the dancing dog any longer.” He led her into their midst.

Smiling mouths. Curious eyes. Surreptitious glances of mockery at Hawkeswell. Precise etiquette in every case, and elaborate expressions of relief. They all knew there was a very good story here, and hoped for a tidbit at least, and refused to drift away like they should.

Colleen waited on the outskirts of the group. She embraced Verity when, finally, Hawkeswell made it to her.

“Dear girl,” Colleen cried. “What a relief to see you, and to learn at last that the worst did not happen. Do the Thompsons know?”

“We have not yet informed them,” Hawkeswell said. “Perhaps you will do that for us. Please discourage them from coming down here, however. Verity does not need to be entertaining family so soon.”

“I will write to them at once, and be firm on that. It would hardly do to host family now, no matter how excited they may be.” She embraced Verity again. “I hope, however, that you will allow me to call. I could be of help, perhaps, as you take on your duties at Greenlay Park.”

She appeared sincere, and Verity did not relish navigating Hawkeswell’s estate without advice. She had not known Colleen well, except as the cousin of Hawkeswell and the person to introduce him to Bertram. She suspected that Colleen’s kindness in befriending Bertram and Nancy had been exploited by them more than this pretty lady realized.

“Please do call. I will be grateful for your advice.”

“But not that of your mother,” Hawkeswell said, taking his hat and gloves from the butler. “We will go to her when it is time. I do not want her interfering now.”