The Disgraceful Mr. Ravenhurst Page 23

  ‘Hythe went to stand behind Lady James’s shoulder, which I thought odd, until I glimpsed the pistols in his belt. Leon read the letter, twice, I believe, each time becoming a little paler. Then he asked Lady James and Monsieur Castelnau to join him in his study. Well, we were agog—at least I was, and the Traceys seemed most interested—so no one went out and we were all making the most dull conversation in the salon when down comes Leon and asks his mother and Julie to join them.’

  Ana broke off to take a sip of coffee, quite deliberately prolonging the suspense in Theo’s opinion. ‘So we sat a little longer, none of us quite liking to comment on what our hosts must be up to—and then the screaming began.’

  ‘Naturally, good manners must have held you in your seats,’ Eva commented. ‘How frustrating.’

  ‘But, no! How could we resist—off we all went, up the stairs, the noise getting worse by the second, and there, outside the family suites on the premier étage, was Leon, in the act of locking his mother’s door and Julie, biting and screaming, in the more than capable grip of Hythe. She was bundled into her room and by this time all the servants were there—you may imagine the chaos. To cut the story short, a messenger was sent to the family doctor, the servants informed that the countess had been taken ill with some sort of brain fever and that Julie was hysterical with worry.’

  ‘Did anyone accept that?’ Theo enquired. Thank God, Leon had believed his letter. The count should be safe now, whatever happened to the two women.

  ‘The servants did, why should they not? The poor woman, grieving over her husband until it all becomes too much to bear? And the two young girls guess nothing—Leon packed them both off home in the company of his elderly relative. And Julie was known to be devoted. But myself and the Traceys? No, of course not. So, Leon tells us the whole story—he did not have much choice, I think. We all went down to the dungeons and found the scene of your imprisonment—and there was the poison. My blood ran cold, believe me.’ She gave a theatrical shudder, but Theo saw the darkness in her eyes. Yes, that horrid chamber had affected her, more than she was willing to betray.

  ‘And the rest of the treasure?’

  ‘He showed us that too, before locking it away and asking us all to swear on the bible that we would keep all this secret, except from you.’

  ‘But what will happen to the countess and to Julie?’ Elinor asked. They were the first words she had spoken since she had sat down. Sebastian and Eva had murmured comments, but Nell had sat impassive throughout. He wondered if she was finding it hard to listen to.

  ‘The family doctor has found that the countess is deranged by grief and she will be confined at the chateau—for ever, I suppose. Julie will be sent back to her mother with an annuity, which will cease if she ever tries to contact the family again, or leaves Brittany where her mother lives.’

  ‘How neatly it is possible to dispose of murder and attempted murder,’ Nell said softly.

  ‘How kind of you to come out of your way to tell us this, Marquesa,’ Eva remarked. ‘You must, of course, stay the night.’

  ‘Thank you.’ If Ana was offended by being asked for only one night, she did not show it. ‘And it was not out of my way at all, I am travelling to the coast to take ship for Italy. Lady James had already sent to Avignon to arrange her lodgings, so it would have been inconvenient for her to detour.’

  Inconvenient, but natural, Theo thought, protective of Nell’s feelings. At least if she had any concerns about her mother’s safety, they were now put to rest. He watched her while the others asked more questions, sorted out just what had occurred to their own satisfaction. She sat still, her hands folded in her lap. For a while he was deceived into thinking she had reverted to the way she used to deal with her mother, passively allowing it all to wash over her. But then she lifted her head, listening to something Ana said about her plans in Italy, and he saw he was wrong.

  She was not happy, but she was thinking, planning—he could see it in her eyes. His Nell was making a decision, and she was making it with no reference to him. But then, why should she? he thought with a bitter jab at his own feelings. He had made love to her when he knew he ought not to have done and yet he had failed to give her whatever it was she truly needed.

  ‘Theo!’ It was Sebastian, who appeared to have been talking to him for some time.

  ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’

  ‘I was asking if you wanted to ride out with me, see the agricultural experiments I’ve introduced.’

  ‘Of course, although you do realise I wouldn’t know a turnip from a potato, don’t you? Nell, why don’t you come too?’

  She was at the door, exchanging a word with Eva who was bearing their latest guest off to her bedchamber. ‘No, thank you, Theo. Mr Finchingfield is expecting me in the library.’

  ‘Bloody librarian,’ Theo muttered as he found himself alone with Sebastian in the breakfast room.

  ‘You didn’t take to him?’ His cousin looked surprised. ‘Very competent, good family and all that. I wonder if Eva is matchmaking—he’s a excellent choice for Elinor, I’d have thought.’ Apparently not noticing Theo’s snarl, he added, ‘Let’s see if Freddie would like to come with us. I’d value your opinion on the pony I’ve just bought him.’

  A librarian? For Nell? A pattern-book pretty young man with respectable bloodlines and a sound knowledge of the classics? She would be bored to tears. Safe, no doubt, no dungeons or pistols or scandalous lovemaking with Mr Finchingfield, that was for certain, but where would all that fun go, that courage?

  ‘I’ll get my hat and gloves.’ He took the spiral stairs to his roof-high chamber at a run, two at a time, all the way up, arriving with his breath tight in his chest and a burn in his thigh muscles and still wanting nothing more than to ruin the line of the librarian’s perfect nose for him.

  A day spent in the panelled library was soothing, Elinor found. It was light and airy and well organised and she admired the young librarian’s enthusiasm for his task.

  ‘But there is still so much to do,’ he said with a groan, waving a hand towards the back of the room where stacks of books, dusty and disorganised, still crowded the shelves. ‘The late Grand Duke was not interested, except for sporting subjects and, um…certain rather indelicate volumes. But he bought widely, just as he did works of art. The only trouble was, he neglected to replace the librarian when the last one died twelve years ago. And as for the archives, I haven’t even touched them. They are a full-time job.’

  He opened a door into another chamber, with stone walls and vaulted ceiling. Bundles of documents, rolls of parchment, tin boxes and wooden chests were crammed inside with great ledgers balanced on every flat surface. ‘Goodness, what a treasure trove.’ Intrigued, Elinor lifted the nearest scroll off its shelf and peered at it. ‘This is fascinating.’

  ‘I am glad you think so.’ It was Eva, her skirts lifted clear of the dusty floor. ‘I did wonder whether you would like to spend a little time here as our archivist. It would allow you to consider your plans and to make a considered choice of companion for your travels.’

  Mr Finchingfield effaced himself and tactfully went off to his desk while Eva waited for Elinor’s response. ‘Naturally, we would pay you the same salary as Phillip. And you only need stay as long as you wish—just make a start and help me find a permanent archivist is all I would ask.’

  Taken aback, she considered it. ‘It would make things easier with Mama. I am sure she would be less anxious if I came here rather than taking off by myself.’ Actually she probably wouldn’t be anxious at all. Irritated at having to find a new secretary, that was all. But it would stop Theo fussing. She might even see him from time to time if he knew where she was. ‘Thank you, yes, I would like that very much.’

  ‘Excellent. We must find you a desk. Phillip! You have a colleague,’

  At dinner she found herself seated next to Mr Finchingfield with the castle’s Anglican chaplain on her left. Perhaps to dilute the impact of Ana, Eva had invited a
number of people, including the widowed Mrs Massing-ham, whom she had suggested as a possible companion for Elinor’s travels.

  It made it easier to avoid Theo. Why she wanted to, Elinor was not certain, but instinct told her that he would not be happy with her plans and that having an argument with him would be more upsetting than she could cope with just now.

  When the gentlemen rejoined the ladies and Eva presided over the tea tray, Theo finally cut through the group around her. ‘Elinor, I was hoping for a word with you.’ Next to Phillip’s slight elegance and the chaplain’s comfortable roundness he looked big, masculine and decidedly commanding. He also looked thoroughly irritated, although she doubted anyone who didn’t know him well would notice.

  ‘Why don’t you join us?’ she asked, knowing that was not what he wanted. ‘Mr Finchingfield was just explaining his new classification scheme for the library, which sounds most comprehensive, only I am not certain how it would work for theology. What do you think, Dr Herriot?’

  ‘Indeed, comparative religion may be the stumbling block with your ideas,’ the chaplain began.

  Theo shot her a look that showed he knew exactly what she was up to, combined with something else she could not fathom. Surely he was not hurt by her evasion? He must know she would only refuse him again if that was his intention in speaking to her.

  ‘Theology is not my subject, you must excuse me.’ He turned and went back to join the rest of the group clustered around the wide, empty hearth.

  But that look, that darkness behind the clear green eyes, haunted her. Was she imagining things, projecting her own unhappiness at the relationship between them on to him, manufacturing feelings for him he did not have? But he did not look happy—there was a tension about him even when he was joking with Sebastian or engaged in a barbed flirtation with Ana.

  She watched, half her mind on him while she tried to keep up with Dr Herriot’s arguments. There he was, the man she loved, funny, brave, attractive, heart-stoppingly sensual, and she was sending him away. It was the right thing, of course it was. Only it seemed to be making neither of them very happy.

  When the clocks struck midnight—a somewhat prolonged matter in a castle the size of Maubourg, despite the best efforts of the official clock-winder—Elinor was still awake.

  She had gone up at eleven, washed and changed into her nightgown, thanked her maid and settled down in an armchair with an extravagant number of candles and a sensation novel from the pile that Eva had sent up. It had been a long day; she was convinced she would soon want to climb into bed. But despite the best efforts of the valiant heroine, trapped in a tower by her wicked guardian for reasons that were not entirely clear, she could neither concentrate on the tale nor fall asleep.

  Assuming that he and Sebastian had not had another late-night session, Theo was in his bedchamber somewhere above her head. Was he asleep already, or reading? Perhaps he was planning the journey back to England with the Chalice, or his next buying trip, somewhere in Europe. Or perhaps he was sitting like she was, a book disregarded on his knee, just thinking.

  Had that strange darkness gone from his eyes? Had he realised that he did not need to worry about her?

  What she wanted, she realised, more than anything, was to be close to him. Not to do or say anything—what was there left to do or say? Just to be close.

  Elinor scrambled out of bed and opened the clothes press, searching for something she could wear that she could fasten herself. The shabby old gown she had explored the chateau in was the only thing, and it was warm. Despite the time of year, it would be cool up on the battlements.

  Tossing a drab cloak around her shoulders and pushing her feet into slippers, Elinor peered out of her door. Down at the far end of the corridor stood one of the guards who patrolled the castle night and day, but his back was to her. Soft-footed, she crept to the doorway Eva had pointed out and was through it without a sound.

  The stairs spiralled up, opening out on to a paved walkway, perhaps ten foot wide, with the battlements on one side and a wall, broken by doors and small windows, on the other. There was no sound except the hoot of a hunting owl drifting over the river far below and distantly, faint music from the town. And all was dark, but for the spill of light from under one door and from around the edge of the heavily curtained window.

  Theo was still awake, then. Elinor leaned against the door, flattening her cheek and her palm on the warm old wood as though against his body. She knew she could not stay there all night, sleeping across his threshold like a medieval page, but she did not want to leave.

  Interspersed with the regular gaps of the battlements were darker areas, which proved to be alcoves with stone slabs for seats, perhaps to allow sentries to rest or shelter in bad weather. Wrapping her cloak tight around her Elinor sat down in one, put her feet up and leaned back. It was surprisingly comfortable and it gave her a clear view of Theo’s door. She would stay until he snuffed out his candles and then she would go back down to her own bed and try to sleep too.

  How long she dozed there, warm in her corner with only a cold nose and toes to betray the deepening night, she had no idea. Nor was she sure what brought her completely awake. The light was still showing under Theo’s door, but there was no sound from within his room.

  Then she heard it again, the brush of leather on stone as the sole of someone’s shoe met an uneven slab. The person halted. Elinor could sense, rather than hear, breathing and muffled her own in a fold of the cloak. She saw the person move across the spill of light from under the door, silk gown swishing faintly.

  The door opened, throwing the woman into silhouette. Elinor craned to recognise who it was and saw, before she hid it in the folds of her skirt, the long blade in her right hand, sparking silver in the candlelight.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‘Ana.’ Theo had recognised the intruder, but he had not seen the knife. His voice, just reaching Elinor, held only resignation and faint amusement. ‘What the devil…?’

  She tore off her cloak and wriggled out of her niche, running without any attempt at concealment to the door, throwing her shoulder against it as Ana tried to close it from the inside.

  The force of the push sent the other woman staggering off balance. Elinor swirled the heavy wool cloak in her hands and threw it, enveloping Ana in folds of cloth. ‘She’s got a knife,’ she gasped, trying to hang on to the flailing figure.

  Theo seized her by the shoulders and pushed her unceremoniously into the corner of the room. ‘In that case, leave her to me.’ He dragged off the cloak and Ana emerged, blinking and furious.

  ‘You stupid little witch,’ she hissed at Elinor. ‘Sleep with him if you want. Do I care? I have had him, I do not want him back—so you take care not to attack me again or you will be sorry.’ She advanced towards them, the long knife glinting in her hand as she prodded it towards Elinor to emphasise every word.

  ‘Ana—’ Theo was edging to one side, attempting to keep his body between Elinor and the furious Spanish woman. ‘Put the knife down—we don’t want anyone to get hurt, do we?’

  ‘Don’t we?’ she enquired ominously, then tossed the weapon on to the bed where it lay, its hilt glittering with gemstones. ‘Bah! You could not peel an apple with that thing.’ She kicked the cloak to one side and stood, hands on hips, belligerently regarding Theo, and Elinor, who was trying to push past him.

  ‘You English are mad. I come here to deliver that thing to you for the count. He says you deserve something from the treasure—and I have something for you, too, only I did not expect you to be up here.’ She scowled at Elinor, who sat down with a thud on Theo’s chair.

  He picked up the dagger, turning it over in his hands, then studying the hilt closely. ‘Just for show, see, the blade is dull.’ He ran his thumb down it. ‘It must have been brandished during their rituals. If the stones are genuine, it is worth a great deal of money.’ Ana had sauntered over to the dresser and was pouring herself a glass of wine from the decanter that stood there. �
��I suppose it was too much to hope you might have given it to me during the hours of daylight?’

  ‘I did not want anyone to see.’ She tossed back the wine. ‘How do I know if you can trust your cousins?’

  ‘Then thank you for bringing it. What did he send Elinor?’

  ‘A platter, a small one, but good work. You can have it tomorrow.’

  ‘I would not want anything from that place.’ Elinor shuddered, thinking about the scenes those glittering objects must have been used in.

  ‘Sell it, then.’ Ana shrugged and put down the glass. ‘The man is full of guilt for what has happened. That, and perhaps he wants to ensure you hold your tongues. The Chalice has vanished into its hiding place again—the count wants to pretend nothing has happened, that his lies about his mother’s collapse are the truth.

  ‘Now I go to my bed and leave you to your strange courtship.’ She leaned close to Elinor as she passed. ‘It is easier to make love, my respectable English miss, if you are both on the same side of the door.’

  ‘What the hell did she mean by that?’ Theo, hands on hips, glared at Elinor. He was still partly dressed, coat and neckcloth gone, his shirt open at the neck, his shoes discarded by the bed.

  ‘Don’t glower at me,’ Elinor retorted. ‘How should I know what she means?’ She wanted to go to him and finish unbuttoning his shirt, push it back over his shoulders so she could savour the skin beneath, touch it with her lips and fingertips…

  ‘Why were you following her?’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ she denied, then realised just where that statement left her.

  ‘You were here already?’

  ‘I couldn’t sleep, I needed some air. Eva had shown me the stairs to the battlements.’ His expression was sceptical; she couldn’t blame him. ‘Look at me, for goodness’ sake. Do I appear to have dressed up for a seduction? I was sitting outside in one of those niches, that’s all.’