The Women of Eden (12 page)

As she placed the blame on the door, she glanced toward the rise of land which led to the headlands, searching for a glimpse of Mary's dark blue traveling suit. The young girl was nowhere in sight. Elizabeth felt a strong compulsion to leave the gathering of concerned men and run after her in pursuit.

But it was clear that no one else had seen what had happened, and

Elizabeth tried to still her rampaging nerves with the decision that it would be best not to compound the embarrassment with the stark announcement that Lady Mary Eden had been the cause of it all with her unannounced exit from the carriage.

Elizabeth saw the guards, led by Delane, in a close inspection of the carriage door. Behind her she saw that four other carriages had arrived, the congestion about the Gatehouse getting worse. In Mr. Delane's carriage she saw another man peering through the small oval window.

Enough! She'd not intended for her arrival to be such a theatrical. As for Mary, she wouldn't go far. There were steep cliffs in every direction. As soon as Elizabeth could disperse the excited men and get the carriages moving again, she would search for her, undoubtedly would find her weeping on some sandy beach, would offer her an apology, remind her that she loved her as though she were her own daughter, and while the decision that they part company had been difficult, it was for the best.

Glancing through the Gatehouse, she saw the mountainous form of Alex Aldwell, John's personal bodyguard, hurrying toward the confusion. Trouble there. Alex would not be as easy to deceive.

Struggling for control, Elizabeth stepped back to her carriage where the men, with mindless intensity, were studying the perfectly sound carriage door. "Mr. Delane," she called out, "please, I beg you. Return to your carriage. I did not intend for you to—"

"It appears sound, Elizabeth," the man announced. "Still, one can't be too careful. If I were you I would have a new latch put on. Narrow escape, that."

He stood directly before her, studying her closely. "What a pleasant greeting party for our arrival at Eden."

She laughed. "A bit dramatic, I'd say. Wouldn't you? Ladies tumbling hither and yon from carriage doors."

He stared down on her, something giving him pleasure. "I must confess," he said, "that when I received the invitation, I thought instantly of you, wondering if you would be present."

"Be present!" she repeated, seeing Alex Aldwell thunder through the Gatehouse arch, heading toward them, "I wouldn't have missed these Festivities for the world, Mr. Delane. As you know, John Murrey Eden is my—"

"What's going on?" The voice was strong and filled with the authority of the man who served John with blind love and who for his

efforts was now one of the two men whom John trusted completely.

He was about to bellow again when he caught sight of Elizabeth and his manner softened. "Oh, it's you, Miss Ehzabeth." He grinned. "We saw the pileup from the Great Hall steps, and John—"

As he waved toward the Great Hall across the inner courtyard, Ehzabeth saw him, the tall, erect, fully bearded figure of the man whom she had raised as her own son and who now reigned over the entire kingdom of Eden and large portions of London as well.

Dear God, how can I ever explain Mary's absence to him?

The thought stirred her into action and she gave thanks for her ability to lace a secure public face over a disintegrating private one. "Alex—how good to see you!" She smiled, grasping the big man's arm. "I'm afraid I'm the culprit—or rather my carriage. The door gave way on the turn and I almost— "

"She almost fell to the ground," Delane concluded sternly.

"Lord," Alex muttered, shocked. "Well, I'll have a look at it. In the meantime, John—"

"Yes, John," she interrupted, informing Alex that she was aware of the man waiting on the steps.

"All right," Alex announced to the waiting guardsmen, "let's get things moving. Come, Miss Elizabeth, I'll ride in on the door with you. If it—"

"That's not necessary," Delane insisted. "I offer her the security of my carriage for the—"

Great Heavens! They were talking about a distance of less than a thousand yards. Elizabeth could have easily walked it and would have preferred it. But, looking up, she saw that Alex approved of the idea.

"Good," he said, studying the line of carriages behind them, six in number now and two more just leaving the moors.

Before she climbed into Delane's carriage, she glanced again toward that figure standing at the top of the Great Hall steps, movement all about him in the form of stewards with trunks hoisted upon their shoulders and an army of maids carrying hat and boot boxes.

"May I help you, madame?"

She looked up at the sound of the male voice coming from inside the carriage, a peculiar voice, not English. Her eyes, suffering the transition from bright sun to the shaded interior of the carriage, could not at first see. It was not until they all had settled for the short drive that she saw his face, a commanding face with even fea-

tures, younger than Delane, with a full shock of dark hair, his handsome gray eyes watching her.

By way of introduction, Delane said, "Elizabeth, give me the honor of presenting Mr. Burke Stanhope, from America."

Elizabeth nodded, suffering a peculiar sensation that she had seen the man some place before. "Mr. Stanhope," she said, "let me apologize for my melodramatic entrance."

"No apologies are necessary," the man said gallantly, something in his easy, open manner that was very attractive.

"You're not injured, are you?" Mr. Stanhope inquired thoughtfully.

"No, not injured, except my pride." She laughed, detecting just a trace of a soft "r" sound in his speech. From the Southern part of the United States was her guess.

She was on the verge of asking what part of America he was from when she felt the carriage slow for the turn which would deposit them at the foot of the Great Hall steps and John Murrey Eden.

Hurriedly she adjusted her bonnet and tried to adjust her feelings as well, and said cordially, "Permit me to be the first to welcome both of you to Eden Castle. I hope you enjoy your stay."

"I'm sure we will," Mr. Stanhope said.

At last the carriage came to a halt. As Delane and Mr. Stanhope drew on their gloves, Elizabeth's eyes remained fixed on John. How handsome he looked in his dark jacket, beautifully tailored to accommodate his broad shoulders, his fair hair flecked with gray now, still the image of his father!

She smiled at the steward who was opening the carriage door and realized that within moments she would have to confront John with the distressing news of the missing Mary.

Her head whirling with the complications of the awkward moment, she did not at first hear the voice calling her name from the shadows of the Great Hall. Only at the last minute did she look up to see Andrew Rhoades moving toward her.

"Elizabeth." He smiled, enclosing her in an embrace, the touch of a man who once had shared her bed and who had given up his plea that she become his wife.

Though she loved him dearly and would do nothing to hurt him, she had finally convinced him that such a marriage would be a disaster for both of them. Married, she would lose everything. As a spin-

ster she enjoyed at least one or two male privileges, such as the right to own her own house.

She brushed her lips across his cheek and broke out of his embrace before their past intimacies were made public for all those staring eyes.

"Andrew, how good to see you," she murmured, one hand smoothing back his thinning hair, turning him to meet the two gentlemen behind her, who had observed everything.

"Andrew, allow me to present Mr. John Thadeus Delane, whom I believe you know, and this gentleman is Mr. Burke Stanhope, an American who has honored us with his presence."

Andrew shook Delane's hand. "Welcome to Eden, sir. I hope you will find everything here worthy of a good report,"

"Fm sure I will, Mr. Rhoades," Delane rephed.

Then Andrew extended his hand to Burke Stanhope. "And you, sir, welcome to Eden—though I must inform you that I am not an official host. That's him at the top of the steps."

As Andrew asked Burke Stanhope innocuous questions about the weather in London, Elizabeth found her attention fixed on the scene at the top of the stairs, John holding court as only John could, though something was different, as though he were trying too hard.

Then she remembered. Only last month, when they had gathered at Eden for a final meeting before the great day, John had made it clear that they all were to be in attendance during the welcoming of guests. Now she realized that with the exception of Andrew, John was alone. Lila? Missing. Dhari? Missing. Lord Harrington? Missing. Richard and Aslam? Missing.

Good! Then perhaps John would save a portion of his anger for those truants.

Then there was no time to pursue the mystery further, for Elizabeth saw John motioning one of the stewards to take the guests to their chambers. The false smile on his face faded as he caught sight of her.

"Andrew," Elizabeth whispered, interrupting the conversation behind her, "please do me the courtesy of presenting Mr. Delane and Mr. Stanhope to John. Alex has sent my carriage around for repairs and I must fetch my luggage."

A curious expression crossed Andrew's face. "A steward will—"

"Please, Andrewl"

At last he understood and turned to the two waiting gentlemen. "This way, if you will."

Elizabeth held her position, a little annoyed by the manner in which John was ignoring her. Though their eyes met repeatedly, he had yet to acknowledge her in any way.

To make matters worse, she saw him take Delane's hand with stiflE formality, not a smile on his face. Mr. Stanhope received the same treatment and, suffering increasing annoyance, Elizabeth saw the two men being ushered immediately away by a steward, John having dispatched them with cold civility.

How uncharacteristic of him, she thought, to defeat his own intent. He had invited the journalists here today in an attempt to woo and impress them. Didn't he realize that John Thadeus Delane wielded the most powerful pen in all of London?

As she started up the steps toward him, she realized how often in the past they all had excused his heavyhanded behavior on the grounds, "He's tired. Bear with him; he's doing it for us."

"John." She smiled, still worshiping, if not this man at least the little boy he once had been, Edward's son.

As she went up on tiptoe to deliver a kiss, she felt a terrifying lack of response coming from the man himself. She was aware of Andrew standing to one side, like a friendly keeper, ready to soothe John at the first indication that he needed it.

"Where's Mary?" John demanded, overlooking the fact that as words of greeting they left a great deal to be desired.

Elizabeth answered truthfully. "I'm afraid I don't know. She left the carriage while we were still outside—"

"What did you say?" he demanded, as though she'd said nothing.

Her hurt increasing, Elizabeth saw new carriages entering the Gatehouse. This was neither the time nor the place for a discussion of Mary's childlike stubbornness.

"She was upset," Elizabeth said. "She'll return soon, I feel."

"Upset!" The parroted words barely concealed the anger of the man who spoke them. "You act as though she's one of your female friends from Manchester, more man than woman, perfectly capable of taking care of—"

Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Andrew's hand lift to John's arm in a restraining gesture. "I'll go and find her if you wish," he volunteered.

"No, I'll go myself," John snapped. "Apparently no one in this

household knows how to handle her or how important she is to this occasion."

With that he was hurrying down the stairs, impervious to the newly arrived guests left standing before their carriages.

Without hesitation Andrew stepped forward, ready to fill the vacuum, though he looked back at Elizabeth and whispered, "What happened?"

Elizabeth merely shook her head, beginning to feel the weariness of the journey, feeling as well a stinging across the bridge of her nose as she tried to deal with John's rebuff. Of course she shouldn't be hurt. Out of all the inhabitants of Eden, John favored Mary the most. In the past Elizabeth had tried to understand the intense relationship and had failed. He possessed a dear wife, a loving mistress. What inexplicable need had now sent him running after his young cousin?

The mystery was beyond her and she touched Andrew on the arm and in the last moment of privacy whispered, "I'll be in my apartments if any one—"

As Andrew's voice rose into the tones of a substitute host, Elizabeth walked into the shadows of the Great Hall, distressed to see an even greater confusion than that in the inner courtyard. Enormous stacks of luggage rested everywhere, the stewards and house wardens doing their best to disperse the crowds, over a hundred men and a scattering of ladies standing about, openly ogling the rich interior of the Great Hall, a few scribbling notes on well-worn pads.

There was something about the scene of chaos that struck Elizabeth as obscene, working journalists who perhaps had difficulty meeting monthly expenses exposed to an opulence worthy of Midas. She gathered her skirts about her and commenced angling her way through the crowds, overhearing stray comments: "A nob's palace, that's for sure!" "Makes Buckingham look like an outbuilding." "Where's the free drinks we were promised? . . ."

Her face burned with embarrassment and, increasing her speed, she spied a familiar face, that of Hettie, the lady's maid who sometimes tended her when she was in residence at Eden.

"Miss Elizabeth!" the woman exclaimed, her voice raised above the noise. "Come—you've no business making your way alone."

Grateful, Elizabeth allowed the maid to clear a path through the jostling men. At the far end of the Great Hall they found a harbor

of relative calm. "When did you arrive?" Hettie asked. "And does Mr. Eden know you're here? How eagerly he has awaited you! And Where's Lady Mary? He was expecting her as well. Have you ever seen nothing like it?"