Chapter Nineteen
Nathaniel had had a horrendous few days, Laura told herself. So much had happened. She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t to blame for him leaving her, but she still lay in bed, tense and unsure. As sleep continued to elude her, she ran over the events of the evening. He was concerned that the rumors of smuggling would taint his reputation in Parliament. The news of smuggling was worrying, of course, but that didn’t account for his behavior; his heavier than usual drinking perhaps, but not what followed. It had something to do with his mother. Dispirited, she realized it wasn’t that he wanted too much from her, but too little. She could not live like this. Laura wiped her eyes, knowing she could not let it end there.
She left the bed. Having spent some time locating the spring which opened the space between their connecting rooms some days ago, she pressed it. The oak paneling slid back to reveal an empty room.
With a deep breath, Laura whirled around to snatch up her dressing gown. She left her bedchamber, her candle held high. Amanda’s room lay in darkness. Laura turned and went downstairs, her footsteps echoing in the quiet house.
The great hall lay silent under a fragile silver net of moonlight. In the corridor beyond, the wall sconces sent flickering shadows over the walls. Holding her candlestick high, Laura opened the door to Nathaniel’s study. It was empty, as was the library.
Puzzled, she returned to the hall, her candle fluttering. There was a draft from somewhere. Might a door be open? She retraced her steps, finding the door to the rose garden bolted shut. At the kitchen steps, the breeze strengthened, lifting her gown and swirling around her legs. She shivered with a sense of foreboding.
Below her, the cavernous kitchen lay in darkness. Laura hesitated, then her fingers gripped the banister, as a need to know propelled her forward. She stepped down into the cold room. The stoves would not be lit until daybreak. The servants’ hall beyond was empty, as all the staff retired early. A current of air infused with the briny tang of the sea whipped up the stairs from the wine cellar and beyond. The door leading to the water’s edge must have been left open.
Laura ventured down a few steps, as her guttering candle threatened to go out. She balked at going further. A loud scrape. The heavy clunk of a lock sliding into place. The breeze died away. The hollow sound of footsteps on the stairs followed. It must be Nathaniel, and she didn’t want him to find her here.
She retraced her steps as the well of darkness below lightened. Heart racing, she hurried up the kitchen stairs. Gaining the ground floor, she began to run. She almost fell into her bedchamber and shut the door. Leaning against it, gasping for breath, she put her ear to the door and waited. Nothing, not even the reassuring sound of Nathaniel coming to bed.
Laura went to the window. Down in the garden dotted with gravestones, a shadowy figure appeared, darting over the moonlit ground before disappearing. She watched for some time, but nothing moved beyond the sway of the trees. Nathaniel had stated flatly that the smugglers had gone. Was he withholding anything that might alarm her? She shivered and sought the warmth of her bed. Huddling there, unease and frustration churned her stomach. He had pleaded exhaustion and the need for sleep. But where was he?
***
The next morning, Laura woke to the rasp of the sliding panel. She stretched as Nathaniel drew the bedclothes back and joined her in the bed, taking her his arms.
He nuzzled her shoulder. “Sorry, my love. I was a bear last night. Best that I left you.”
His musky scent and hard body tempted her, but Laura pulled away. She propped her head on an elbow to gaze into his smoky eyes that didn’t always reveal the truth. “Did you sleep well?”
“Wonderful. I feel more like a lion than a bear this morning.” He untied the neck of her nightgown and kissed his way down to her breast with obvious intent.
Laura moved out of his embrace. “You weren’t in your bed last night, Nathaniel.” She was gratified to see surprise widen his eyes. He thought it so easy to fool her. “I doubt you were in the house.”
He sat up, his dark brows meeting in a frown. “You looked for me?”
Her lips trembled. “Yes.”
“Don’t do it again!” Nathaniel rolled out of bed to pace the carpet.
“Why ever not?”
“Can’t you do what I ask of you? It’s so little, surely.”
She took a deep breath. “You think it a small thing to imprison me in my room at night?”
He sat on the bed and took her hands in his strong grip. “Promise me, Laura.”
She gasped. “Tell me why, Nathaniel.”
“Damn it!” He flung her hands free. “You are my wife. Can you do what I ask without questioning me, just once?”
Shocked by his explosive response, Laura drew in a breath. “I will not be ordered about like a servant. And I refuse to be treated like a prisoner in my own home.”
At her words, Nathaniel gave a bitter laugh. “Laura, for God’s sake! You know we’ve had smugglers on the grounds. It’s not forever, and I have my reasons. Please?”
Laura struggled into her dressing gown. “You assured me they were gone. Is it too much to ask for an explanation for your nightly sojourns?”
“You have been searching for me?” He slowly shook his head. “Have I made a mistake bringing you here?”
Laura inhaled sharply as anger and dismay coiled in her stomach. “Mother said your reason for marrying me was because you need an heir. Was that the only reason?”
His laugh was brittle. “I married you because I wanted you here with me. I wanted to spend my life with you.” He raked his fingers through his hair, and a lock fell over his forehead, making him appear less self-assured. “After everything, I thought fate owed me some happiness. Perhaps I’ve been wrong.”
She stared at him, captured by his words. He had wanted her. Now it seemed he wished he hadn’t.
“Until those responsible for this are put in jail, I must ask this of you.” His eyes implored her.
“What should I fear, Nathaniel? I’ve heard noises during the night, and there was someone in the room down the corridor.”
Nathaniel’s eyes widened. “Which room?”
“Amanda’s bedchamber.”
He shook his head. “You must be imagining it. It’s an empty room.”
“I tell you there was someone there. I saw their shadow move beneath the door.”
He pulled her to her feet. “Come and show me.”
Nathaniel opened Amanda’s door as Laura’s chest tightened. He stepped inside. “Damnation!”
She started at the violence of his reaction. “What is it?”
“I gave orders for all of this to be packed away before you came to Wolfram.”
“But when you saw me come out of this room you said nothing.”
“I believed it to be empty.” His hands on her shoulders, he gazed down at her. “Honestly, sweetheart.”
“It wasn’t you then?” she asked, giddy with relief. All of Amanda’s possessions, her jewelry and perfume still covered the dresser. Chilled, Laura noticed that a lacy sky-blue gown had been taken from the armoire, and now lay across a chair, as if about to be worn. “And someone has been back here again. You didn’t arrange this room like a shrine to her memory?”
Nathaniel stared at her as if she was mad. “Good God, no.”
She swallowed. “You aren’t still in love with Amanda?” Her voice dropped to a husky whisper.
“What on earth made you think I was?” With a bitter laugh, he swung away from her to sort through the jewelry on the dresser. Amanda’s expensive perfume wafted into the air, and he turned with a grimace. “I must speak to Rudge.” He put his arm around Laura’s shoulders and ushered her from the bedroom.
“Who visits this room then, Nathaniel?”
He shook his head. “I’ve no idea. Go back to your bedroom, Laura; call your maid to help you dress. I’ll be in the breakfast room.”
Lightheaded, Laura hurried to obey. It was not Nathaniel. But his bitter laugh, so filled with emotion, did little to set her mind at rest.
She dressed in her favorite jade-green gown with the French gilt buttons for added courage. Determined to appear calm, she entered the breakfast room where Rudge stood before Nathaniel.
Rudge bowed. “Your usual breakfast, my lady?”
She doubted she could eat a bite. “A piece of fruit, thank you, Rudge.”
When Rudge left them, Nathaniel gazed at her, appreciation in his eyes. “You look very pretty in that shade of green.” He poured her a cup of coffee. Strong, the way she liked it.
“I could do with this.” Laura sipped the reviving brew, her nerve endings thrumming. “You questioned Rudge?”
“I did.” Nathaniel buttered his toast. “He’d given orders for Mina, Amanda’s maid, to clear the room and box up its contents. They were to be placed in the attic. But after she left Wolfram, he hadn’t checked to see if the work was done. He’s very remorseful and will see the room is emptied today.”
Laura put down her cup. Rudge had been far too enamored of Amanda’s portrait. Amanda had laughed at him, Cilla had said. “And you believe him?”
Nathaniel shrugged. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”
“Might there have been a thief in the room?”
“Rudge will question the staff. We may have a pilferer among them. Perhaps they were disturbed, for nothing appears to have been taken. Anything of great value is in my safe.” He rubbed his brow. “Don’t worry, Laura, the room will be emptied today. No one need go in there again.”
“We could give the maids one of the simpler pieces of jewelry. I’m sure they’d be delighted to have a small broach or a locket.”
“An excellent idea. I’ll have Rudge see to it.”
Nathaniel took a bite of toast as his assessing gaze met hers. Did he believe her? Or did he think she’d dreamed it? She put down her cup. “I went down to the kitchen last night when I couldn’t find you. A breeze blew up from the passage that leads to the water.”
Nathaniel dropped his toast onto his plate. “Remember your promise, please.”
She hadn’t promised, and she might well ignore his infuriating order in the future. But she saw little advantage in arguing the point with him now. “I heard someone shut the outside door. Was that you?”
“Yes. I checked on my boat to see if the mooring was secure. A gale was blowing up.”
Laura gazed out at the calm, sunny morning. “I didn’t hear it.”
“The storm didn’t amount to much.”
“And yet you usually predict the weather so accurately.”
He frowned. “I’m touched by your faith in me. But even I can be wrong on occasion.”
“Do you know,” she said in a conversational tone, aware her words would produce an outburst, “I’ve learned how to tell when you dissemble.”
This gained a reaction, but not the explosive one she’d expected. Nathaniel rose slowly. He looked down at her, an expression in his eyes she’d never seen before. Never wanted to see. Regret.
“The woman I married,” he said slowly, “would never have thought that of me. Let alone have said it.”
Laura cringed and looked away from his hurt eyes. She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. Why was she the one made to feel in the wrong? “Am I mistaken then?”
Nathaniel paused as Rudge entered with Laura’s plate of fruit. Her mouth was as dry as dust, her appetite completely gone.
When the door closed on Rudge, Nathaniel rested his hands on the back of his chair. “I only ask that you do as I say. Am I so very unreasonable?”
She glowered at him. So she was to be the one at fault!
He eased his shoulders with a weary sigh. “I need to escape all this drama. I’m taking the boat out.” He tilted his head. “I’d like your company.”
She blanched, in no mood to brave the ocean. “No. I…”
He nodded, his eyes bleak. “Very well.” He turned and walked to the door.
“Wait, Nathaniel.” Her voice trembled. He thought she no longer believed in him. That must have cut deeply into the very heart of a proud man like Nathaniel. And he was wrong. She had every faith in him to protect her, especially in that small boat. She couldn’t leave things like this. “I’d like to come with you.”
He raised a brow. “You feel safe with me, Laura?”
She swallowed. “Of course I do.”
His eyes darkened with emotion. “I shall always endeavor to take care of you. It would be more than my life is worth if anything happened to you.”
She gasped. “I’ve always trusted you to keep me safe.”
“It’s a perfect day for a sail. We’ll leave after your breakfast. You might wish to change your dress. It would be a pity to spoil that one.”
***
The cold wind whipped across the water, churning the waves. If she chose, Laura could reach down and touch the white tips of the gray-green ocean as the swell rolled past them at great speed. The salty air stung her nose. She fumbled in a pocket for a handkerchief, and then abandoned the idea. Despite her caped coat, her legs were cold in the fawn seersucker gown which offered more freedom of movement. What she wouldn’t give for Cilla’s divided skirt!
Her chilled fingers clutched the yacht’s rail again in a slippery grip. Sailing proved both frightening and exhilarating. How easy it would be to topple into that dark, roiling water and sink without a trace. Her gaze returned to the man at the helm, his big, capable hand on the tiller, his dark head turned toward the rocks a frightening few yards to starboard.
Nathaniel had explained the rudiments of sailing, and when his troubled gaze met hers, she desperately wanted to reach out to him and try to bridge the ever-widening gap between them. Didn’t he want to know who was in Amanda’s bedroom? Or did he think she was being overly dramatic? If he couldn’t take her at her word, they would soon lose the genuine passion and regard they shared. A bond which had drawn them together like a strong thread from their first meeting. She would fight to stop that from happening, whatever it took, and yearned for when he would take her to bed without words and make love to her, even though it fell short of what she craved. But not only did he show little desire for her, he remained tightly coiled within himself, his actions brisk and formal when he was forced to touch her.
The foam-crested waves swirled around the boat, and the sea’s roar made it impossible for her to make herself heard, even if she could manage the words that might smooth things between them. She watched him in his element with intense admiration. He was a graceful man, and that grace did not desert him on the water. He moved with assurance, raising the sail and yelling at her to avoid the swing of the boom. The noisy gulls followed above in the pale blue sky, perhaps in the hope of a free meal.
The boat tilted, drenching Laura’s skirt in salt spray. She gasped as icy water ran down her neck. Oblivious to any discomfort, Nathaniel tacked into the wind, and the boat swung around. They passed the abbey, its ancient beauty stirring within her a sense of foolish pride that this was her home. She craned her neck as it disappeared behind the granite cliffs. She glanced at her husband’s handsome profile. He looked her way, his face filled with grim pleasure.
“I love you,” she shouted, knowing her words would be torn from her and carried away by the wind.
Nathaniel gave no indication that he’d heard. He stared ahead as they sailed around the rocky headland, past rocks worn razor sharp from the sea’s assault. Gravity-defying wildflowers, grasses and seabirds’ nests decorated the sheer rock face. Somewhere along these cliffs, Amanda had plunged to her death. The horror of it became so real that Laura shivered.
She could see the roof of Cilla’s idyllic cottage; from here, it looked like it was teetering on the edge.
Close to the cliff where the waves beat against the rocks, a dark shape, like a bundle of rags, churned in the water. Laura called out to Nathaniel, but he had seen it too. He swung the tiller and guided the boat closer. The wind caught the sail, driving them back. Cursing, Nathaniel lowered the canvas and picked up the oars. He began to row, pulling the boat through the seething waves. Only a few yards from them, a body rose and fell with the waves to be dashed on the rocks, then drift away again.
“Oh, dear heaven!” Laura put a hand to her mouth with a strangled sob.
Nathaniel brought the boat as close as he could. It was a man, face down, arms outspread. He wore a tan leather jerkin like one she’d seen before.
“Take the tiller, Laura. Careful how you go.”
As the boat rocked, Laura moved uneasily toward Nathaniel. She sat and grasped the slick wooden tiller.
Nathaniel placed his big hands over hers with a firm grip. “Like this. Hold it steady.”
Nathaniel rowed back to the man. He reached down and grabbed an arm, heaving the man over the side. Any frail hope that he might still be alive dissolved when he fell like a sodden sack of produce into the bottom of the boat. Laura couldn’t breathe; it was as though the air had been squeezed from her lungs. She dizzily dragged in huge breaths and tried unsuccessfully to avert her gaze, afraid she’d be sick. Nathaniel turned the man over, revealing a face reduced to a mass of bloodless flesh, his features torn away by the rocks. His hair, although plastered wet to his head, was bright gold.
“It’s Theo Mallory!” she cried.
“Don’t look, Laura.” Nathaniel pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and laid it over the man’s face, then he took the tiller from her and turned the boat for home.