CHAPTER 16
Miranda stared back at her stepmother blankly. “What? Who? What are you talking about?”
“Your husband. Lord Ravenscar.”
Miranda’s jaw dropped. Had Elizabeth completely lost her wits? “Dev?” she finally gasped.
“Yes. Dev. Miranda, think!” The light in Elizabeth’s eyes was a little unnerving. Involuntarily Miranda thought of the mad old man who had barged into their house in London, ranting about Devin murdering his granddaughter, and she shivered.
“There have been several attacks on your life since we came here,” Elizabeth went on earnestly.
“What? Elizabeth, what are you talking about?”
“You fell from that balcony.”
“Because I was foolish enough to lean on a railing that had been eaten by woodworms. That was all.”
“What about when you went riding and the chunk of rock almost killed you and Joseph.”
“That was an accident, too,” Miranda said soothingly.
“How can you say that?” Elizabeth replied agitatedly. She finished off the cup of hot chocolate, her hand trembling so that the cup rattled in the saucer when she set it back down. “You could have been killed either time.”
“Yes, but I was not. And there is nothing to say that they were not simply accidents.”
“Two such ‘accidents’ in a row!” Elizabeth’s voice rose to a squeak. “Don’t you see? He is trying to hurt you. Get rid of you. The man is wicked!”
“Elizabeth!” Miranda straightened, her face growing cold and set. “I cannot allow you to speak that way about my husband.”
“He has blinded you to his faults. I knew he would.” Tears sprang into her stepmother’s eyes.
“Elizabeth, please…” Miranda said more gently, putting her hand on Elizabeth’s arm in a soothing gesture. She knew that she should not allow her stepmother to anger her with her comments about Devin. It was obvious that something was affecting Elizabeth’s mind, and Miranda told herself that she must be gentle with the woman. “You are upsetting yourself over nothing. I know that Dev had a bad reputation, but that is not who he is. He is a good man. I am sure of it. He would not try to kill me.”
“You don’t know. You don’t know him!”
“Neither do you,” Miranda pointed out. “Besides, I think I know him much better than you realize.”
“I knew you wouldn’t listen.” Elizabeth sank her face onto her hands.
“Of course I am listening to you,” Miranda insisted. “I understand that you are very upset, and I am sorry for that. But there is nothing to fear. Really. Both those events were accidents. I know it is a trifle odd for two accidents to happen in a row like that, but such things do occur. Haven’t you ever noticed how you will seem accident prone for several days in a row? I am that way. The railing was old, and we all know that much of the wood at Darkwater was infested with woodworm. There is nothing odd about it breaking under pressure. And limestone rock breaks off and falls frequently. Everyone who lives here says so. Neither incident was unusual.”
“Yes, he is clever.” Elizabeth sighed, looking weary.
“Besides, Devin could not have pushed the rock down on me. He was riding with us.”
“He could easily have had a cohort at the top of the cliff to dislodge the stone and push it down.”
“Endangering him, too?”
“Was he riding beside you?”
Miranda paused, thinking. “Well, no, he was a few yards ahead, talking to his uncle.”
“You see?” Elizabeth exclaimed triumphantly. “It was you and Joseph who were almost killed, while Ravenscar was far from the danger.”
“Elizabeth, please, I don’t know why you dislike Devin so. You hardly know him. You should come down to dinner more often, sit with us after the meal. Talk to him. I think you would find that he is a much nicer person than anything you have heard about him.”
“Oh, I know he is charming. That is not the issue.” Elizabeth yawned, covering her mouth politely. “I’m sorry. I just…suddenly I feel very tired.”
“Yes, no doubt you need to rest,” Miranda agreed.
“No. Not until you understand…” Her words were interrupted by another yawn. “Oh, dear me.”
“Please, why don’t you go up to your room and sleep?” Miranda suggested, eager to get her stepmother out of there. “You will feel much better when you wake up. You will see that you have gotten worried over the merest trifle.”
“No, I won’t.” Elizabeth rubbed her hand across her face, looking confused.
Miranda frowned in concern. “Are you feeling all right, Elizabeth? Are you ill? Let me ring for a maid to help you up to your room.”
“Oh, no, dear, don’t be silly. I don’t need help.”
At that moment a footman entered the room, coughed politely to draw their attention, and announced, “Lady Vesey and Miss Vesey to see you, my lady.”
“Lady Vesey?” Miranda looked up, surprised.
“Leona!” Elizabeth exclaimed. It was clear from her face, Miranda thought, that someone had informed her stepmother of what Lady Vesey was to Lord Ravenscar.
The servant came forward with the small silver tray, on which sat two calling cards, one for the spinster aunt and one for Leona. A faint smile touched Miranda’s lips. She was never one to turn down a challenge.
“Why, yes,” she told the servant. “Show Lady Vesey into the drawing room.”
When the servant had bowed out of the room, Elizabeth turned toward Miranda, her eyes huge. “My dear, do you think you should? I understand from Lady Ravenscar that she is, well, not usually admitted into the best circles.”
“Yes, Elizabeth, I know. However, I have an interest in talking to Lady Vesey. I feel sure that it will not tarnish my reputation to receive her. Do you wish to come?”
“I believe that I will go upstairs and lie down, as you suggested,” Elizabeth said quickly. “I hate to think what Lady Ravenscar will say about this….”
“Don’t worry,” Miranda assured her. “It won’t be anything I cannot handle.”
Her stepmother rose and started out of the room, then paused, looking back at Miranda. “Dear…please, you will be careful, won’t you? Promise me?”
“Yes, of course I will.”
Elizabeth nodded, still looking unsatisfied, and left the library. Miranda straightened her dress and went out into the hall, stopping at the mirror a few feet away to check the state of her hair. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkling in anticipation of the scene before her, so she had few qualms about her looks.
She continued down the hall and into the formal drawing room. She walked in to find Leona Vesey standing with Lord Vesey’s aunt in the center of the room, facing a rigid Lady Ravenscar, whose nose and mouth were pinched into a pattern of disapproval. Rachel, seated beside her mother, looked less disapproving than furious.
It was clear that Devin’s mother had questioned Leona’s presence there, for as Miranda walked in, Leona was saying, “…with Lady Ravenscar’s approval—the new Lady Ravenscar, that is.”
“Hello, Lady Vesey,” Miranda said cheerfully, coming forward to take the other woman’s hand and squeeze it.
Leona winced a little as she withdrew her hand from Miranda’s. “Lady Ravenscar.”
Miranda turned toward Rachel and her mother-in-law, greeting them pleasantly. “I am so glad you were able to entertain Lady Vesey until I got here. Please, sit down, Lady Vesey. Miss Vesey.” She took the older woman’s arm and guided her to a chair. “It is so pleasant when one’s neighbors come to visit. I confess I had expected more people to call, but then I realized that no one wished to disturb us—our newlywed state, you know.” She smiled in a secretive, self-satisfied way, doing her best to blush a little.
Leona’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. Of course. I am so glad that you are settling in at Darkwater.”
“Thank you. It has been most pleasant. Of course, so much of one’s happiness depends upon one’s husband. Don’t you find that is true, Lady Vesey? Fortunately, Devin is the best of husbands.”
“Indeed.” Leona smiled faintly. “I confess,” she said, amusement tingeing her voice, “that I had never really pictured Devin as a married man. He was always so…how shall I say it? Carefree.”
“Yes, and such an attractive man,” Miranda agreed, looking at Leona with wide, innocent eyes. “I am quite sure that many women were devastated when Devin entered the married state.”
“No doubt.” Leona glanced around. “Where is Devin, by the way? Surely the man hasn’t gone out and left his bride alone so soon.”
Rachel’s eyes flared with anger, but she managed to hold on to her temper and kept her mouth shut.
“He is out painting,” Miranda said.
“Painting!” Leona’s brows rose, and she let out a tinkling little laugh. “Oh, my, is he doing that again? I thought he had grown bored with dabbling in paints.”
“He had seemed to get off track for a few years, but he is painting furiously now.”
“You poor dear,” Leona said in a condescending way. “It must be awful for you to have your new husband away all the time indulging himself.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Really? How liberal-minded of you not to care. I really cannot imagine why Devin started again—of course, I suppose it does offer an escape, of sorts.” Her tone was honeyed, but the look she sent Miranda was significant.
“Obviously you must not know Devin well, then,” Miranda said with such a sweet voice and innocent look that Rachel had to cover her mouth to suppress a giggle. “He is a very good artist. I would not be surprised if one day he is famous the world over.”
Leona cast a suspicious look at her hostess, as if she could not decide whether she was being teased.
“Perhaps you would like to see some of his sketches,” Rachel put in. “He has done any number of likenesses of Miranda.”
Leona’s jaw clenched. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t put you out to get them.”
“It’s no bother,” Miranda assured her, popping up. “I am sure Devin would not mind our going up to his studio to view them.”
She went to Leona and put her hand under her arm, urging her up. Leona stood a little uncertainly, and Miranda linked her arm through Leona’s. “Rachel? Lady Ravenscar?”
Lady Ravenscar’s eyes glittered wickedly. “Why, yes, I do think I would like to see this.”
Leona could scarcely get out of it now, and the three Aincourt women swept her up to the floor above and down the hall to Devin’s studio. Leona stepped inside and came to a dead halt. Her eyes widened as they went about the room. A half-finished portrait of Miranda stood on an easel in the center of the room. Two more finished ones, one large and one small, were propped against the wall. A half-dozen sketches of her in charcoal were scattered across a table, and two watercolor sketches of her were lying on the floor to dry.
Leona’s eyes grew bigger and bigger and her face paler until Miranda thought that she might faint. “Are you all right, Lady Vesey?” she asked solicitously.
Lady Ravenscar watched Leona intently, a faint smile touching her mouth, and Rachel unabashedly smiled.
“Yes. Fine.” Leona spoke through clenched teeth, pulling her arm sharply away from Miranda’s. “Dev has certainly been busy, hasn’t he?”
“Yes. He has rediscovered his old love,” Miranda said contentedly. “I am sure he regrets ever having given it up.”
Leona offered her a brittle smile and left the room abruptly, leaving the other women to follow her. Rachel glanced at Miranda and grinned.
By the time they rejoined Lady Vesey, she had recovered her pleasant demeanor, although Miranda, walking beside her down the stairs, could feel the tension radiating from her.
“So now Dev has gone on to other objects to paint?” she asked Miranda.
“Yes, the rest of the day. I can only pose for an hour or two a day. It gets rather tiring.”
Leona’s grin was a baring of teeth. “No doubt. And where is he sketching today?”
Lady Ravenscar, on the other side of Miranda, made a noise, but Miranda ignored her. Looking straight at Leona, a challenging light in her eyes, she said, “The ruins of the abbey. It is a very scenic spot.”
“Yes. Of course.”
Leona left as soon as they got back to the drawing room, practically pulling Vesey’s elderly aunt from her chair and out the door. Miranda felt sure that she would divest herself of the aunt in record time and would soon be riding from Vesey Park to the abbey.
Almost as soon as Leona left, Miranda excused herself to go check on her stepmother. She walked out of the room, humming under her breath.
Lady Ravenscar looked at her daughter, a smile as broad as she ever allowed herself curving her lips. “I must say, Rachel, that was a splendid suggestion, going to look at Devin’s pictures. I had no idea he had done such a number of Miranda.”
“I did.” Rachel smiled like the cat that had got into the cream.
“Very clever of you. I do wish, though, that Miranda had not told her where he was painting today. You know the witch is certain to go over there.”
“Somehow,” Rachel commented confidently, “I have a suspicion that our Miranda knew exactly what she was doing.”
* * *
Miranda was not as confident as she had acted in front of Leona. The truth was, she had her doubts as to what Devin would do if Leona showed up at the abbey today. She knew she had taken a gamble by telling Leona where Dev was, but she needed to know what Dev would do. She had to let it play out, no matter what the consequences.
Lady Vesey’s visit had raised her spirits, though. Miranda had not known for certain that Devin had not gone to visit Leona at Vesey Park since their marriage, although from the amount of time he had spent on his painting, she did not see how he could have managed it. But the fact that Leona had come here, transparently hoping to seek him out, indicated to Miranda that he had not seen his former mistress at all. Such a lack of interest was heartening, even if it did stem more from his new passion for his art than passion for herself.
She went up to her stepmother’s room to check on her, as she had told the others. She met a maid slipping quietly out the door just as she approached.
“Oh!” The maid stopped abruptly when she saw Miranda and bobbed her a curtsey. “My lady.”
“Is Mrs. Upshaw sleeping?” Miranda asked. Her stepmother had not looked well when she left her earlier, as well as having been acting very strangely. Miranda was a trifle worried about her.
“Not yet, ma’am. I think she is about to fall sleep now, though. She felt terrible sick when she came upstairs, ma’am. Her whole breakfast came back up, it did.”
“Oh, dear.” Miranda went past the girl into Elizabeth’s room.
Elizabeth was in bed, her face rather gray against the pristine white of the pillow, her eyelids closed. They fluttered open when Miranda came to her bedside, and Elizabeth regarded her groggily.
“Miranda…”
“I heard you had a rather bad time of it,” Miranda said, taking her hand and squeezing it. Her stepmother’s skin was cool.
“Yes, it was an awful mess,” Elizabeth murmured, stumbling over her words. “So silly—I didn’t feel ill earlier this morning. But suddenly, just as I came into my room…” She shuddered.
“Perhaps now you will feel better,” Miranda told her reassuringly. “I am sure if you take a nap, it will help.”
“Yes. I can hardly keep my eyes open. I hope I will be able to sleep. I don’t think there is anything left to come up.”
Miranda patted her hand and sat down on the side of the bed. Elizabeth turned on her side, smiling faintly, and curled her fingers around Miranda’s. She soon slipped into sleep.
Miranda looked down at her stepmother, a small frown on her forehead. She did not typically worry overmuch about Elizabeth’s illnesses; she was always in the throes of some complaint or other, and they were usually brief and not very severe. Elizabeth certainly looked ill today, however.
“I think that I will sit with her for a while,” Miranda told the maid. “Until she’s feeling better.”
* * *
Devin rode to the abbey ruins first and left his sketch pads and paints. He would come back afterward, he thought, and do some sketches. It was important, somehow, that what he had told Miranda not be a complete lie.
He had hated misleading her, omitting the important fact of where else he planned to go today. But he could scarcely tell her his true destination.
He rode in the opposite direction from the abbey, and in another forty-five minutes he was riding through the double row of lime trees that led to the entrance of Vesey Park. It sent an odd quiver snaking through him to look up at the front of the house. He had come here many times that summer he was eighteen, madly in love with Lord Vesey’s new wife and unable to stay away.
He reined in at the front door, and a groom came to take his horse. A footman opened the door, bowing, but when Devin asked for Leona, the footman surprised him by informing him that her ladyship was not at home. Leona did not, Devin knew, have friends in the area; she was considered much too wild by the ladies around here, led by his own mother. The servant enlightened him by volunteering the fact that she had gone to see Lord Vesey’s aunt.
That fact surprised Devin. Leona, he knew, found the old woman deadly dull, and he had assumed that Leona had been with her at the wedding feast solely because that was the only way she could get in. She must have been driven to visit Miss Vesey by sheer boredom; Leona could not abide living in the country. He was amazed that she had stayed as long as she had. He would have expected her to set out for London soon after the wedding.
He decided to wait for her, figuring that Leona would soon grow tired of the elderly aunt and return home. The footman, taking stock of his attire and demeanor, seated him in the formal drawing room to wait for her.
As he had hoped, he had been there only a few minutes when Leona came sweeping in, favoring him with a glittering smile and holding out her hands to him. She looked fetching in a green dress that set off her golden looks admirably. The material clung to her hips and legs, and the round neckline revealed the upper swell of her full breasts.
“Devin! At last. I never see you.” She pulled her mouth into a provocative pout. “One might almost think that you don’t like me anymore.” She leaned toward him, her lips curving up in an inviting smile, her eyes glinting gold.
To her amazement, Devin took a step backward. Leona stopped, one eyebrow going up, and she said in irritation, “Whatever is the matter, Dev? Afraid of me?”
“No, of course not. Leona…” He paused. It was desperately hard now to tell her what he had come here for.
Leona did not wait for him to continue. She turned away, saying in a contemptuous tone, “Your drab little wife told me you had taken up painting again. Really, Dev, I thought you had given up playing with paints.”
“Miranda?” he asked in astonishment, distracted by her words. “You have talked to Miranda?”
“Yes. Aunt Vesey and I went calling on her. That is where I was just now. She told me you were out drawing at the abbey ruins.” Leona cast him an amused glance and made tsk-tsking noises. “Lying to your bride already? Of course, I fully understand. You must be desperate to escape the provincial chit. My goodness, poor Dev…Are you terribly angry with me for persuading you to marry her?”
Devin’s jaw set, and a light flared in his eyes. “No. I am not angry with you for that. If anything, Leona, you did me a favor. I am happier now than I can remember being for years.”
Leona’s eyes widened; then she relaxed and let out a little laugh. “Oh, you are teasing. I almost believed you.” She came back to him, putting one hand on his arm and gazing up into his face in a way that had never failed to beguile him. “Why haven’t you been to visit me? I would have alleviated your boredom.”
“I wasn’t bored,” he replied and stepped back from her again. “I could scarcely call on you, Leona. Things are different now that I am married. It would be an insult to Miranda if I rode over to visit my mistress.”
“Oh, her,” Leona said dismissively. “What does it matter if she is insulted? She’s a little nobody from America.”
“She is not a nobody,” Devin snapped. “She is my wife. I cannot allow you to speak about her like that.”
Leona stared at him, shocked into silence.
Devin sighed. “I am sorry. But Miranda is my wife now.” When Leona continued to stare at him, he went on irritably, “Didn’t you realize how it would be? You were the one who urged me to marry.”
“To get the money we both so desperately needed!” Leona lashed back. “Not to turn into some priggish country bumpkin. What has happened to you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, Leona. I just—I changed.” He paused then said, “I’m different now. My life is different. You and I—”
Leona put her hand over his mouth, silencing him. “Hush. You don’t know what you are saying. All this bucolic living has softened your brain.”
She moved closer to him, her body brushing up against his, her hand sliding away from his mouth to caress his cheek and neck. “I know you, Dev,” she said in a low, intimate voice. “I know you better than anyone. You cannot fool me. You are still the same Devin, the man I love.”
She took one of his hands and guided it to the open neck of her dress, holding his hand to the exposed swell of her breasts. “I know what you like…” Leona went on huskily. “Why don’t we slip upstairs, so I can remind you of what you are missing?”
She raised his hand to her mouth, kissing the tips of his fingers, taking the ball of his thumb between her teeth.
Devin looked down at her. Her eyes were golden, lit with a seductive glow, and her lips pouted in a way that was guaranteed to make a man want to kiss them. Her breasts were ripe and full. And he was, amazingly, completely unmoved. For the first time that he could remember in almost fifteen years, he felt no desire for Leona. Despite what he had come to tell her, he had not expected that.
“Leona, don’t.” He pulled his hand back and moved away. “I cannot do that. I am married now. It’s different.”
He turned around, his face and tone formal. “Let me tell you what I came here to say. I have changed, Leona. I don’t know exactly how or why, but it is true. And I cannot undo it. I don’t want to undo it. I cannot be the way I used to be, the way I was with you. I can’t do the things I did or act the same way. I don’t want to. I cannot be a husband to Miranda and keep you as a mistress. It wouldn’t be fair to either one of you.” He paused, then said the words he had never thought he would utter. “I cannot see you anymore.”
Leona went pale with shock. Devin was filled with guilt as he watched her. He had loved her for years, and it was almost as much of a shock to him as it was to Leona that he had finally stopped. But he realized, looking at her, that he no longer loved her. He had made a decision last night to break things off with Leona, but he had thought that he still loved her. He had thought it would be harder for him to break with her, more of a struggle. He had expected to feel torn about choosing Miranda. But all he felt at the moment was relief. Leona seemed almost a stranger to him now, a little overblown in her provocative attire and manner, his memories of her and his love for her clouded by the haze of alcohol in which he had spent most of his time.
It occurred to him, startling him, how little time he had spent with Leona over the years and how little he really knew her. Their moments together had always been brief and stolen, tinged with the excitement of the forbidden and foggy with the amount of alcohol he had imbibed. There had not been hours spent together talking and laughing, as he had known with Miranda the past few weeks. He could have said a thousand things about Miranda’s past, but for all the years he had loved Leona, he knew little more about her than that she disliked her two sisters and rarely saw them.
“I am sorry,” he said inadequately. “But I cannot lie to you. You would not want that.”
“I do not want this!” Anger contorted Leona’s face, turning the soft, sensual lines into something harsh, and she made a sweeping gesture with her arm. “You are throwing me over for that—that—stupid, whey-faced American trollop?”
“She is not a trollop!” Devin’s temper flared.
“How dare you.” Leona shrieked. “I am Leona Vesey! Half the gentlemen of the Ton want me! You should be honored that I let you into my bed. I cannot believe—after all the years I spent on you! I could have had anyone, you know, and I chose you. There are scores of men who wanted to displace you over the years. All I have to do is snap my fingers, and they will come running.”
“I am sure you are right,” Devin said, reining in his temper. “Any man would want you.”
“Don’t patronize me!” Leona’s lip curled, and the words dripped from her mouth like acid. “You are such a fool, Dev. I don’t know why it should surprise me. Men are always fools. You’ve found a new toy. She’s shaken her hips at you and rolled those eyes, all the while acting as if she thinks your silly little paintings are great works of art. Now you think you will be a good husband and stay up here in Derbyshire, drawing and fornicating with that American ninny. Hah! In two months you will be dying with boredom. You will wake up one morning and realize what you’ve done. And you’ll want me back again. You can’t ever get me out of your blood. I own you, Dev. I have since you were eighteen and a flat straight from countryside.”
Devin looked at her, his eyes cold and flat. “You never owned me, Leona. I loved you. There is a difference.”
“Oh, please. You would have done anything I asked you to, and you know it. Because you wanted to be in my bed.”
“Is that all you think it was?”
Leona shot him a speaking look. “The only reason you married her, if you will remember, is because I wanted you to. I teased and enticed you until you would have done anything I said. Think about it, Devin. Your little milk-and-water miss won’t be able to satisfy you as I can. You’ll miss it. You know you will. And you’ll regret it. You will come crawling back to me. But you know what? I won’t be here. You will have missed your chance.”
Devin looked at her levelly. “No, Leona. I won’t be back.”
He turned and strode out of the house. Mounting his horse, he rode home to Miranda.