Nineteen
Thea
Flinging muslin and silk into a small trunk without regard to wrinkles or accessories, Thea fought tears.
Murder and ghosts. . . Arnaud had explained what happened to the prisoner.
This had to be part of her father’s intrigues, carried out by his horrible friends, one of whom ran gaming hells!
Her father’s investments weren’t much better than gambling, which was why he always needed funds.
He would never change, despite all his promises.
She’d done this before—the day she’d saved Davy from an institution for the feeble-minded. She had thrown everything she could into a trunk and fled with him in the dark of night.
That time, they’d been running toward safety.
This time, she was fleeing safety for almost certain death, if only of the soul.
She’d almost rather die. She’d had Mr. Sutter write her will months ago, instructing her trustees to leave her grandmother’s trust to Arnaud and her brother, and made certain her parents knew it.
So her father was unlikely to physically kill her.
Davy was safe now. Arnaud and the others would protect him and see that his estates were in good hands until he came of age.
Leaving now would cause a great deal of grief and trouble for others, but to not act would be far worse.
People were dying—because her father and his friends considered anyone who stood in their way inconvenient and removed them like so much vermin.
She refused to let any of her new family die because she was too afraid to act. She’d spent her life longing for a loving home—
Her lady’s maid rushed in, scolding. “Look what you’ve done to that fine sarcenet! You never buy new and now you ruin the old. Or did you mean to give it all to charity? Because that’s where they belong.”
Annie had stayed loyal through the years of toil and trouble. Her maid knew everything there was to know.
“I’ll buy new in London,” Thea promised. “Will you come with me?”
“To your father’s house?” the maid asked in horror.
“Why would you leave a fine home and a man who loves you? It’s only a few years more now.
. .” Annie looked horrified, then resigned.
A florid-faced older woman of wide girth, she’d endured much over the years.
She was more mother to Thea than her own flesh and blood.
“How will we travel? Captain Huntley took the carriage.”
Thea had been giving that thought. She could wait for the curate to return with his ancient curricle, but that would mean not leaving until morning. Damien had gone with Hunt, so Kate and her sister had use of his barouche, but they had to transport a sickly child back and forth in the dark.
Lord Greybourne’s curricle seemed most likely. Andrew could take her to Stratford, where she’d hire a coach. She had never lacked for pin money, thanks to her late grandmother.
Before Thea could reply, Arnaud stormed in, slamming the door against the wall so hard that it most likely left a dent. Rumors spread rapidly in small populations. She should have just left without her trunk.
“You should not be in here,” Annie scolded. But at Thea’s nod, her maid bustled out, looking relieved.
“No,” Arnaud said curtly. He crossed her chamber and turned her trunk upside-down, dumping the contents over the bed and floor. “You will not sacrifice yourself. I will kill your father myself before I’ll allow that. I can ride faster than any carriage and reach London before you.”
He’d not even needed explanation, he knew her so well. And he was correct about his ability to ride ahead. The stable was full of fast horses but Thea hated riding. She’d seen Arnaud on horseback. He rode as if he were part of the animal. He’d be in London before she even found a coach.
“This is not your fight, sir. I cannot wait for it to become your fight. A man died last night! The Priory is in danger of becoming a gaming hell, and thanks to my demented father, they must think I am key to their possession!” She tried hard not to be an emotional watering pot, but there was only so much one heart could hold.
Hers was on the verge of breaking. “I cannot, will not allow his greed and stupidity and selfishness destroy what we’ve built here.
You know that, Arnaud! You’ve sacrificed your own land for a greater cause. ”
Instead of shaking her, as she half-expected, her giant of a lover fell down on one knee, as if felled by an ax. Thea covered her mouth to smother her cry when she realized what he was doing.
The impulsive idiot wasn’t even wearing his best coat, but one with threadbare elbows and a paint stain on the cuff.
His linen, as always, was rumpled and askew.
His glorious dark hair spilled over his collar.
And when he produced a battered signet ring from his pocket, she was so weak with love for the hopeless man, she almost melted into his arms. She’d longed for this moment. . .
And instead of sweet words, he practically shouted at her. “Land is meant to be sacrificed, not humans. You are worth far more than land or castles. Marry me. I will take you to France, away from your father. We can live with my cousins until the vines start earning. . .’’
Tears rolled down Thea’s cheeks. She hadn’t cried since she’d been nine and her parents had abandoned her in the spooky old manor her grandmother was dying in. Her grandmother had turned out to be a blessing. But ruin Arnaud’s life. . . ?
Weeping, she kneeled in front of him, ignoring the ring but letting him take her into his sheltering embrace.
“If I go with you, they’ll do something awful to Lavender.
I can’t run away anymore,” she whispered.
“I can’t. He has tried to have Davy and me locked up before.
He might do it again. Or have Lavender kidnapped.
He may have you killed so he can marry me off to one of his fortune-hunting leeches.
When he’s desperate, he’s a monster of selfishness. ”
“So far, he is not a monster who kills,” he reminded her, rocking her soothingly, smoothing hair tumbled from her pins.
“The killer is here, where he can be caught. If you fear he will lock Davy up again, we can leave Rafe and the others to deal with the monster, while we take Davy to safety in France. We must buy a special license and find a vicar so we can leave quickly—”
Thea sobbed as she hadn’t since childhood. She was strong. She’d had to be. But to have this beautiful, tormented gentleman offer his strength, his name, his rare talent, his home. . . with no hope of ever attaining her wealth. No one had ever loved her so well.
He’d offered to kill for her! At the ludicrousness of her thoughts, Thea began to giggle through her sobs.
“We’re worse than one of Clare’s gothic melodramas.
I love you, Comte Lavigne. If you don’t mind a life of poverty, then I’ll give up all that is mine as well and gladly marry you, but I wish it to be done in front of friends and family, with Mr. Upton officiating.
That is my only dream, for you to accept me in front of those I love. ”
He sat back and cuddled her in his large lap. “But. . . ?” he asked. One would almost think he was omniscient.
“Without my father’s approval, my trustees will never release my funds.
You are giving up any hope, not only of living comfortably, but of security, for us and for Davy.
There are so very many ways he can destroy us if we lack the power to fight him!
” He knew that. He knew her history. It was the reason they had agreed to wait until she was twenty-five.
Arnaud kissed her thoroughly. When she had to come up for air, he lifted her until they were on their feet again.
“I have suffered far worse than your father. Living without you would be worse than death. I never wanted to take away the comfortable life you deserve, but to confront him alone is not sane, ma chérie. If you think he is a danger to our friends and family, we will marry and fight him together. Let us tell Davy first. He needs to understand that he is heir and not a toy to be tossed.”
“And then we will kill my father?” she asked, almost hoping he’d agree.
“Then we will send him to debtor’s prison or the Antipodes or whatever it takes. Let us solve this problem and be done with him and his friends, once and for all.”
Right this very minute, she wanted him to take her to bed, then to France, and never face murder and tragedy again. But she was no longer that innocent young dreamer who believed knights and giants swept in to save the day.
Even giant knights needed a little help.
“How do we catch a killer and how will that stop my father from marrying me off to monsters or declaring Davy incompetent?” she asked skeptically. “Marriage simply endangers us all.”
“If it were easy, we would have done it already.” He took her arm, impatient to steer their fate.
“But I have been thinking on it, on your father, at least. If he wanted you or Davy dead, he could have done it any time. I doubt this murder has much to do with him. It just reflects the kind of ambitious, ruthless men he befriends, and who use him as he uses them.”
“Monsters who want him to steal the roof over our heads and who will kill to do so!” Before following him out the door, Thea rummaged in her jewelry box for a gold chain.
The man-sized signet would never fit, but she wasn’t about to part with so precious a gift.
Arnaud had almost nothing from his past.
Thea wished she had time to savor the joy of his proposal, to dance in happiness, tell all the world at a glorious ball.
. . but even as a child, she’d known life was not like storybooks.
Besides, she and Arnaud disliked being the center of attention.
She simply wanted this brief moment outside their normal reality to last forever.
“Let us make our betrothal formal and inform Davy.” Arnaud fastened the chain around her neck, taking liberties to remind her of what the future held in store.
His bed, she knew. She was of an age of consent, with no one to tell her how to behave.
Living together—well, they had practically been doing so while they built their art gallery.
She was prepared for his volatile nature.
Arnaud was not an easy man, but he was the right one for her.
That he’d instantly believed her raving this morning and acted on it was proof.
Informing her little brother that they were to be wed. . . Was almost as official as marriage in front of the church, and far better than asking her father, who had never seen her as more than a card to be played.
They carried trays of food from the noon buffet to the east wing. Yesterday, Thea had set up a spare table for balancing drinks and trays in one of the empty chambers. While Arnaud went in search of chairs, she intruded on the schoolroom to fetch her little brother.
Davy showed her sketches of the earl’s engravings. The lines from the engravings now appeared as darker charcoal lines in pastel-chalked drawings of clothing: a ruffle here, a buckle there. . .
Thea frowned at the crude art, turning the drawings around to study them from all angles. “You think the engraving lines are parts of clothing? That will not help us much. I can’t see how it is even possible.”
Davy pointed at some of Lavender’s fashion books. “We traced the design.” He rubbed away some of the chalk, leaving just the charcoal zigzag that resembled one in the engravings. “He could trace too?”
“You think the earl traced. . . what? A fashion book? Then erased all but these lines? Interesting.” Not a puzzle she wished to ponder right now. “If you can set your work aside for a moment, the Comte Lavigne and I would like you to join us. We brought those rolls and pickled cucumbers you like.”
Food was a certain lure. Oliver looked up as they left but returned to tracing another picture without questioning, although he seemed to be tracing a bird.
Thea wasn’t at all certain how much young boys understood, but Arnaud did an admirable job of explaining he wished to marry Thea, if that was all right with Davy. For a man of few words, he found the ones that made her heart quicken and Davy listen.
“Thea likes you,” Davy said around a roll stuffed with chicken and cucumber. “So that’s all right. Can I stay here?”
“The Priory belongs to all of us. We can all stay here any time we like,” Thea assured him, praying it would be so.
Taking away this safe haven was probably part of her father’s plot to bring them under his control again.
“You must go away to boarding school next year to learn more about numbers and such, but you can always return here on breaks.’’
“Can Oliver go to school with me?” Davy had a focused mind and right now, his concern was for the security he’d finally found.
Thea hugged her little brother. “He is almost a year younger than you. We’ll have to wait and see.”
If she could access her trust, she’d help Clare pay for the school, but Oliver was far less communicative than Davy. She knew Clare worried.
“You might have to go to school first, then come home and explain it to Oliver.” Arnaud prepared another roll.
Davy looked at him with curiosity. “Will you be my father now? Can I ask you for a real horse?”
Thea bit back a nervous giggle as Arnaud pondered a future of demanding, inquisitive little boys and difficult questions. Of course, he’d no doubt been the same once. She’d love to visit his home, to see what he’d given up for her and his family.
“We shall see what the future holds,” Arnaud told the boy without hesitation. “First, we must have a wedding. Do you not like the pony in the stable?”
“She is old and slow. She should go out to pasture,” Davy said solemnly.
He was repeating what he’d heard, but that was fair enough. Thea ruffled his hair. “It’s good to think of creatures who cannot speak for themselves. You may help Arnaud choose a new horse when Lt. Jack returns and shows us what he has.”
Davy nodded at the big window overlooking the drive. They’d pulled down the moldering drapery in here to be salvaged for other purposes. “Mr. Upton just returned. You must ask him about marriage.” He solemnly bit off a large bite of biscuit, took the last one off the plate, and wandered out.
The curate was driving his ancient curricle up the drive, returning from his visit with the vicar. Thea’s midsection clenched, but Arnaud rose with a look of determination. After all these many months, it was hard to believe that they were finally doing this.
There had been so very few good moments in her life, she wanted this one to last as long as possible—before reality crashed down on her again.