Never Marry a Stranger Page 22

  Matthew laughed, leaving her to prepare for dinner, but his amusement faded as he walked back to his room. Could Emily be planning to leave him? And how could he blame her? He’d taken her as his mistress, without the security of a commitment. And she’d had no say in it, believing that her lies would condemn her in the end.

  He didn’t want her to feel bad with him. He realized that her pain mattered to him. He wanted her to be happy, to be content.

  Could he be falling in love with her?

  Just knowing that she was somewhere in the house made him want to be with her. He enjoyed the lively way she talked back to him, her consideration of his family and the hurt she might cause them. And knowing that he would be with her in the night, making love, made his day that much better.

  Maybe this was love—on his part.

  What if Emily actually did plan to leave him?

  The next day, Emily sent a note to Mr. Smythe, the village curate, asking if he would mind teaching the children during the coming week. She couldn’t risk leaving the estate, not when she suspected that Arthur Stanwood had been chasing her through the woods. He’d almost caught her; she’d heard his panting breath as he ran behind her, the branches crackling. When she felt him tug at a lock of her hair that had come loose, she’d slashed behind her with the arrow, not even breaking stride. She’d hit something, but hadn’t turned her head to see if she’d wounded him.

  Just as she’d reached the lawn, she slowed to a walk, and only then looked back. But she saw nothing, and didn’t linger to explore.

  Why would Stanwood chase her? He’d said he would contact her about his blackmail. Maybe she angered him by not making herself available in the village. She hadn’t wanted to risk being alone with him where she couldn’t be seen.

  Matthew and his father had gone for the day, and she was glad, for the more Matthew could focus on his family’s business ventures, the less time he’d have to contemplate what she might be keeping from him. She and his sisters and mother were to meet the men at Cambridge that evening for a special lecture the professor was giving, open to the public. It had been her idea that they attend as a family; Lady Rosa acquiesced with pleasure. Susanna, Rebecca, and Emily had exchanged surprised glances behind Lady Rosa’s back. Much as the Lelands’ relationship had improved, an anatomy lecture would surely bring back bitter memories.

  Yet Emily was so used to being out doing things, that remaining at the house felt constricting to her. She decided by the afternoon that a walk about the grounds—nowhere near the woods—couldn’t hurt.

  The day was overcast and chilly, and she hugged her shawl about her shoulders. Gardeners worked in the various beds, and servants moved back and forth between the outbuildings and the house. As she was walking the gravel drive, a wagon came around the far side of the mansion, obviously leaving the kitchen courtyard. She moved to the side, so the driver could easily pass her.

  As the wagon slowed, she looked up to give a pleasant nod—only to see Arthur Stanwood smiling in triumph down at her from the driver’s seat. He was wearing plain garments and a cap pulled down to his brow. While she stood gaping up at him, he touched the cap respectfully.

  “Afternoon, Mrs. Leland.” He lowered his voice, “Or should I say—Miss Grey?”

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed, her shock forgotten as she looked all about her. The servants continued to work, and no one gave them more than a glance. “Meeting your spy?” she demanded.

  “I just delivered a load of coal for the kitchen,” he said, ignoring her second question. “There are so many supplies needed for an estate this size.”

  “So you’ve ingratiated yourself with someone in the village, too?”

  Wearing a smile, he looked about and asked, “Where are the captain’s lovely sisters? I enjoyed watching them yesterday. Such fine forms as they shot their arrows.”

  She clenched her fists, her body rigid with anger and fear. But she had to hold fast to her purpose and dissuade him.

  He laughed softly, and then his smile faded. “The only way you can keep me away is to raise a hue and a cry, Emily. And then everyone will want to know what’s wrong. And you’ll have to tell them. Do you want this lovely family to know what a criminal you are? You didn’t seem to yesterday. It was a shame you wouldn’t talk to me.”

  “I wasn’t sure talking was all you wanted from me,” she said. So he was the one who’d chased her.

  His expression changed and he glared down at her. “I’ll do anything I want to you. And you will take it. It wasn’t I who created this mess you’re in, but why shouldn’t I take advantage of it? What arrangements have you made to get your pretty hands on a substantial amount of money?”

  “I already told you that I have no access to money,” she said coldly. “I have been given no jewels or precious gifts, not even a wedding band. This plan of yours will not work!”

  “Find a way.”

  “I cannot. Matthew has confronted me. He knows I’m not his wife. Why would he give me money when he’s searching for the best way to rid himself of me?”

  “Even if you’re telling the truth about his knowledge of your lies, I don’t believe he wants you gone, or he would have sent you away immediately. No, my dear Emily, he is obviously enamored of you. Have you been granting him your favors, the ones you wouldn’t give me?”

  She didn’t know what answer would pacify him.

  “Well?” he demanded, his voice louder.

  “Be quiet!” She looked frantically around her. “It won’t help you to be caught.”

  “Thank you for pretending to think of me, Emily, but I know it is only selfish concern on your part. If I’m caught, you’ll have to explain your association with me. You’ll have to tell him what you did for me. And then your lies—and your security—will be over. You can’t want that. No, it is clear to me that Leland continues to want you, at least in his bed. And he’ll pay. You have to find a way to make it happen. I will contact you again in four days, not a moment longer. I want ten thousand pounds.”

  She gasped. “But his father is a professor! They don’t have such money.”

  He grinned. “How will you know until you ask? Find it, steal it, I don’t care. If the duchess has jewels, help yourself to those. Surely she won’t miss a few.” Straightening up, he touched his cap once again. “Good day, Miss Grey. It has been a pleasure.”

  Chapter 22

  That night, Matthew led Lady Rosa, his sisters, and Emily into the lecture hall at Christ’s College to hear his father speak on the uses of the newly redesigned microscope to the anatomist. They sat in the back, for women weren’t usually admitted, regardless of the public nature of the speech. But they stood out anyway, because there were less than a couple dozen people in attendance—including them.

  Matthew leaned over to whisper in Lady Rosa’s ear. “It’s a shame they didn’t publicize the event better.” He’d been hoping she would see how well-respected the professor’s work was.

  She shook her head. “Sadly, the only university programs that seem valuable are mathematics and the classics. People don’t realize the importance of the sciences in this modern world of ours. It is a good thing your father has his important research, for he only has six or seven students studying beneath him right now.”

  Matthew simply blinked at her, too surprised to speak.

  She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “I am not ignorant on the subject of my husband’s work. Now be quiet, so that I can listen.”

  Matthew sat back and saw Emily watching him, wearing a little smile.

  The professor spoke on subject matter that often sounded like another language to Matthew, but his obvious enthusiasm made him a good speaker. Several students asked questions, and the discussion went on for quite some time.

  Matthew glanced past Emily to his sisters, wondering at their reactions. Susanna, of course, was an unofficial scholar herself, but Rebecca might very well be yawning.

  He frowned. Rebecca was
n’t yawning at all. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed. She was trying to watch their father, but her head would droop forward until she straightened herself.

  He put his hand on his mother’s arm, and when she looked at him, he inclined his head toward Rebecca. Lady Rosa’s eyes widened in alarm.

  “I thought she was seldom ill anymore,” Matthew said softly.

  “She has had nothing more serious than a cold in many years,” his mother said grimly. “You and Susanna stay here and wait for your father. I will take Emily home to help me with Rebecca.”

  Not Susanna? Matthew thought in surprise. But then Susanna was the one who would appreciate the lecture most, and perhaps Emily was the better nurse. Emily was already holding Rebecca’s arm, whispering gently to her. Rebecca nodded, cast a wan smile at Matthew, and allowed the two women to assist her from the hall.

  Susanna slid closer to Matthew. “I didn’t even realize she was ill,” she said, watching the door close behind them.

  “I, too, noticed nothing. I’m certain she’ll be fine,” he said in a reassuring voice. “Father will be done soon, and we can return with him.”

  The professor’s gaze was focused on the door his daughter had just been helped through. If he was distracted as he continued to answer questions, he did a decent job trying to pretend otherwise. A half hour later he called an end to the evening, gathered his books and papers, and walked quickly, his academic gown fluttering behind him, to meet Matthew and Susanna in the back.

  By the time they arrived at Madingley Court, the physician had already been sent for, and Rebecca lay in bed with her eyes closed, her face damp with perspiration. Her chest shuddered with an occasional deep cough.

  Matthew stood near the door while Professor Leland rushed to the bedside. Emily came to stand beside Matthew, and the touch of her arm against his was somehow reassuring.

  “How is she?” he whispered.

  She shrugged and spoke softly. “Feverish, but not terribly. She is quite lucid, thank God, and she says her body aches. Apparently she awoke this morning feeling unwell but hoped it would go away. She hated being so weak when she was young.”

  “This is only one illness. Surely it does not constitute a return to her childhood infirmities.”

  “I hope not,” Emily said solemnly. “I’ll go see if Lady Rosa needs fresh water.”

  Matthew helplessly watched Emily as she moved with competence about the room, assisting in any way she could. Susanna seemed nervous, as if hiding her fear, but Emily had a soothing way about her that inspired peace of mind.

  When the physician had come and gone, claiming that there was little to do but wait for the fever to break, Matthew persuaded Lady Rosa to sit with him in the corner and eat from the tray of food brought by a maid. Emily took a distraught Susanna out of the room for a while.

  Together, Matthew and his mother ate in silence, watching the professor calmly talk to the unconscious Rebecca, while wiping her face and arms with a wet cloth.

  Lady Rosa began to talk. “Your father has always cared so much for you children.”

  “I know,” Matthew said softly.

  “What other man would be here, so involved in his sick daughter’s care? And I have been making him suffer all these years.”

  “Mother—”

  “No, there is nothing you need to say. The past has been dead for many years in everyone’s eyes but my own. No more.”

  He ate in silence then, watching his parents cast uncertain but longing glances at each other. If it wasn’t for the fact that his sister was ill, he would have felt relieved by the change that had blossomed between them while he was gone. Through much struggle, they’d gone beyond a painful marriage to something that strengthened each of them.

  It was a long night, and everyone took their turn keeping Rebecca company, talking to her when she awoke, giving her sips of water and spoonfuls of broth. Matthew made sure he was there when Emily was, because he enjoyed watching her with his sister, her serenity, her firm belief that Rebecca would be well.

  And she was right. By morning the fever had broken. He and Emily were with her, and they sent for his parents. Matthew helped Rebecca sit up a little higher in bed, and she crossly slapped his hands away.

  “I am not an invalid,” she said in a weak voice, then coughed.

  Lady Rosa and Professor Leland hurried into the room, and when they saw her, their faces burst with smiles. Matthew hid his own when Rebecca groaned as if in disgust.

  “You didn’t need to act like I was going to die,” she said, arms folded beneath her breasts.

  Matthew suspected it was to hide the trembling of her hands.

  “It was just a little fever!” she continued. “Everyone gets them now and then. Part of a simple cold. You all overreacted.”

  And perhaps she was right, Matthew thought, but how could she blame them after her history? But he kept that thought to himself so she wouldn’t turn on him.

  Lady Rosa kissed her on the brow, then took a deep breath. “It seems we are not needed here, Randolph,” she said with equanimity to her husband. “If anyone does need us, we will be at the cottage with much to discuss.”

  And then they left the room, leaving behind a surprised silence.

  Susanna rushed through the door. “What did I miss? Mama and Papa were walking arm in arm!”

  Matthew put his arm around Emily. “I’m not quite sure what happened, but I do believe they want to be alone together at the cottage where they fell in love. To talk,” he added, for the benefit of innocent ears.

  Rebecca and Susanna looked at one another and gave identical snorts.

  As Susanna went to Rebecca’s bedside, Matthew looked down at Emily, who wore a pleasantly serene expression.

  He said, “You look rather proud of yourself.”

  “I knew with some effort their relationship could be repaired,” she said, lips twitching against a broader smile.

  “And it’s that easy to repair relationships?” he asked softly.

  Her smile faded away, and he regretted his words.

  Emily excused herself and returned to her bedroom. It had been a long night, and she knew she should sleep. But now that her worries about Rebecca had abated, her thoughts kept roiling in her mind, tormenting her with memories of Stanwood and his threats and his unknown spy.

  She was no closer now to solving her problem. She couldn’t imagine going to the duchess’s private bedchamber and ransacking it to steal something valuable. It made her ill to even think about it.

  The only thing of value that she owned was in a little box on her dressing table. She sat down before the mirror and opened it to stare at the beautiful necklace given to her by the Lelands at Christmas the previous year. It was made of tiny pearls, so she was certain it had some value, but hardly ten thousand pounds’ worth.

  On his way to breakfast—which took priority over sleep—Matthew stopped in the entrance hall to go through the mail. There were several letters for him, most with flowery writing signifying another invitation to celebrate his return.

  But one letter seemed different than the others, his name crudely spelled out, and with only one t in Matthew. He opened it up and read:

  Captain Leland,

  I know the truth about you and Emily Grey. I no longer trust her to get the money she’s been assigned to, so it is up to you. I require ten thousand pounds or I will expose your false marriage. Give it to Emily. She will soon know where to reach me.

  There was no signature. For a long minute Matthew gaped at the letter, rereading it twice, as if the words would miraculously change. Even after everything he and Emily had shared with each other, her lies had continued, and she was involved in a blackmail plot against his family. His head reeled at the very thought, while fury twisted his gut.

  How many more times would his intuition prove false?

  Breathing heavily, he walked into the great hall and sank into a chair beneath a display of centuries’ worth of swords. They glint
ed in the sunlight above his head, and he wanted to rip one off the wall, find this bastard and—

  And what? He didn’t even know the man’s name!

  But Emily did.

  Dazed, he thought of her so sweetly tending to his sister, all the while planning to…blackmail him for money? He blinked, his head beginning to clear. It didn’t make sense.

  And suddenly he couldn’t believe it of her, not after everything he’d learned, everything they’d shared. His assessment of her was not wrong. She was a woman thrust unprepared into tragedy, who’d done what she had to do in order to survive. And if this unknown man was telling the truth, then he had been putting even more pressure on her to blackmail Matthew. And Emily hadn’t succumbed, hadn’t come begging for money.

  She hadn’t begged for his trust or his help, either, and that frustrated and saddened him.

  But he hadn’t proved worthy of her trust, he realized with deep regret. He hadn’t tried to solve the problem of their supposed marriage, only used it for his own pleasure. Was that how his first wife had felt, that she couldn’t come to him with the truth, couldn’t ask for his help?

  When Emily heard the door open behind her, she quickly closed the jewelry box and rose to her feet. Matthew walked around the bed and stopped to look at her.

  She couldn’t read his expression at all, and that panicked her. “Is it Rebecca?”

  “No, as far as I know she’s feeling better.”

  “Thank God.” She put a hand to her chest and closed her eyes. But when Matthew said nothing else, she at last looked at him. “What is it? Just tell me.”

  “I will, but it is a shame that you just couldn’t tell me.”

  She stared at him with incomprehension. He held out a piece of paper, and she took it, bending her head to read.

  The blood drained from her face so quickly she had to put a hand on the chair behind her to steady herself. Stanwood had gone behind her back, told Matthew everything, made it seem like she was involved. Her eyes hurt suppressing tears as she met Matthew’s questioning gaze.