Chapter 28
“I still can’t believe Lady Redmayne is here at Briarwood,” Susanna murmured to Adam, who half-reclined beside her on the bed, pillows propped behind him and the covers drawn to his waist, a thick white bandage encircling his bare chest. She nestled closer against his comforting warmth, her cheek resting against his broad shoulder.
“That she came all this way on the strength of a letter she received only a few weeks after Camille and I left England, and from a woman she didn’t even know… Cleo, no less!”
“I believe it, knowing how much Cleo hated Dominick,” Adam replied, drawing her closer, his arm securely around her waist. “She finally found a way to pay him back for selling off her children. I can imagine the baroness’s reaction when she read Cleo’s charge that he had murdered James Cary to clear the way so he could marry Camille and save himself from bankruptcy.
I’m not surprised Lady Redmayne threw aside her prejudices and booked passage on the next ship bound for Virginia so she might prevent such a marriage.
You told me she dearly loved her grandniece. ”
“She did,” Susanna answered softly, recalling how the baroness’s stern facade had crumbled so piteously when she had learned that Camille had died from fever.
It had been long hours now since Susanna had composed herself enough to tell Lady Redmayne the full story of everything that had happened since she and Camille had sailed from Bristol.
Twilight had fallen outside upon a day that had begun cloudy and wet and had ended with a glorious sunset.
As far as Susanna knew, the baroness was still sitting in the drawing room, alone with her grief as she had tearfully requested.
Even Mary Sayers, Lady Redmayne’s longtime waiting-maid who had accompanied her on the voyage to Virginia, had been asked to leave.
“It’s a good thing Cleo mentioned Dominick’s private diary in her letter and where it was hidden in his library,” Adam continued, his voice deep and husky.
“The court would never have taken a slave’s word for the murder if the constable hadn’t found that journal and its gloating entry about James’s death. ”
“Yes, and I’m glad that when he and his men came here to arrest Dominick, the constable made a point to show Lady Redmayne that her accusation was well-founded.
” Susanna heaved a small sigh, glancing up at him.
“She started crying again when she saw the diary. I think she loved Mr. Cary, too, despite the resentment she’d held against him for so long.
She’s totally alone now—the last of the Cary family. ”
A pensive silence rose between them, broken only when Adam spoke again.
“If Dominick hadn’t been here at Briarwood this morning while the constable went directly to search his house upon the baroness’s insistence, he might have destroyed the evidence before they ever found it.
Now he’s going to hang, and he can only blame himself for ever allowing Cleo to learn to read and write.
His twisted love for her proved his undoing. ”
Susanna shivered, wondering what was going to be her and Adam’s fate. They still planned on admitting everything to the magistrate and taking whatever punishment the court, and Lady Redmayne, now deemed warranted. But what that might be, they still had no clue.
Other than her explanation for why she had come to Virginia, the baroness had said little to Susanna while she recounted her tale, instead staring out the window with tears streaming down her lined face.
Yet Susanna had taken some comfort after she had finished when she had sensed no anger or resentment from the older woman, receiving instead a few pointed questions that had caught her completely off guard.
“What are your feelings for Adam Thornton?” Lady Redmayne had queried, her tear-dimmed hazel eyes intent on Susanna’s face.
“I love him,” she had said honestly, her own eyes growing wet as she thought of him receiving care upstairs from the physician who had pronounced his wound serious but not life-threatening. “If he had died today…” Unable to go on, she had stared down at her folded hands.
“And what will the two of you do now?”
“Marry again, this time using my own name,” she had answered.
She had purposely skipped over any talk of possible punishment, fearing even to raise the subject.
“Then we’ll start a new life somewhere, maybe on Virginia’s frontier.
There’s land to be had in the west, good land waiting to be settled.
All that really matters to me is that Adam and I are together. ”
To her surprise, the baroness had brusquely dismissed her then, giving her no idea what she planned to do with them.
Suddenly growing apprehensive, Susanna threw her arm tightly around Adam’s lean waist, wondering with dread if tomorrow they might find themselves separated by prison walls.
“Adam,” she murmured, her voice catching as she hugged him fiercely, “I’m so sorry about what happened this morning. So terribly sorry. I should have trusted you. I thought…I thought you were going to challenge Dominick—”
“It doesn’t matter, my love,” he broke in gently, kissing her forehead. “All that matters is that you brought Dominick down and saved my life. But now we’re starting over, remember? From this moment on, all of that is behind us. Let’s think only of the future. Our future.”
“Oh, I want that so much,” she said. “You know, Lady Redmayne said the strangest thing when she first walked into the library this morning, something about being so relieved when she heard from the constable about your marriage to Camille—”
“I think she probably meant she was simply glad to discover there had been no wedding between her grandniece and Dominick,” Adam interrupted her, giving her a reassuring squeeze.
“I don’t know,” Susanna persisted, a wild hope flaring in her heart that it might mean something more.
“Lady Redmayne knew from Mr. Cary’s letters to Camille that you were his plantation manager, Adam.
By rights, she should have been enraged by such a match, considering the rules she had droned into Camille’s head about marrying into wealth and position.
Yet she didn’t seem in the least dismayed when she said your name. ”
“Susanna, I don’t think it’s wise that we read anything into Lady Redmayne’s words. From what I’ve heard about her bluntness, I’m sure she’ll clearly state her position toward us when she’s ready. Other than that, we can only wait—”
He stopped at the sudden knock on the door, a firm, no-nonsense rap.
Susanna immediately rose from the bed and, casting a nervous glance at Adam, hurried across the candlelit room, taking only an instant to smooth her hair and secure her dressing gown more tightly around her before she opened the door.
“Your ladyship,” she murmured, trembling with apprehension at the inscrutable expression on the baroness’s face. Almost forgetting herself, she dropped a quick curtsy. “Please…come in.”
“Thank you, I will,” said the petite older woman. Her black gown rustled as she swept into the room, her posture as gracefully erect as ever despite her advancing age. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Not at all, my lady. Adam and I were just talking…” Susanna’s voice trailed off as the baroness seemed not to have expected any objection to her presence, but moved directly to the bed.
“I need a chair, Susanna.”
She hastened to obey, her seven years as a lady’s maid coming to the fore. As she returned with the chair, she noticed Adam’s frown and imagined he didn’t like the sight of her waiting upon another person.
As the elegant woman sat down and folded her hands primly in her lap, she added, “I believe some introductions are in order, Susanna.”
“I’m Adam Thornton,” Adam spoke up before Susanna could reply. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Redmayne. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
Susanna winced, wishing she had instructed Adam on the proper way to address a baroness. But it was too late, and she doubted he would have listened anyway. He was a stubborn, proud man who demanded to be met on his own terms.
“And I know a great deal about you as well,” Lady Redmayne countered cryptically, although her patrician features held no irritation. “I’m glad to see that you’re feeling much better than when I saw you last, being carried upstairs by that hulking black man.”
“Elias.”
“Yes, Elias. He seemed protective of you, quite loyal. It surprised me. I’d heard that these slaves usually despise their masters.”
“Some do,” Adam answered frankly. “But I’ve found that treating others with respect usually begets the same, as James Cary also believed.”
“Indeed.”
Thinking that things weren’t exactly getting off to the best start and wishing Adam would soften his tone, Susanna moved to the bedside and took his hand, squeezing it gently in reproach. When he squeezed hers back, she felt some reassurance.
“I’m truly sorry, Lady Redmayne, that you had to learn about your grandniece’s death in such an unexpected manner,” Adam said, obviously having taken Susanna’s cue to heart, for his voice was filled with sincere regret. “We had planned to write you a letter after meeting with the magistrate—”
“Yes, it has been a day fraught with the most unsettling confessions,” the baroness broke in quietly, her eyes suddenly glistening.
Lowering her head for a moment, she cleared her throat delicately against the hoarseness that had crept into her voice, then she looked up, squaring her shoulders. “I have a confession to make myself.”
Gripping Adam’s hand tightly, Susanna felt her nervousness mounting as Lady Redmayne withdrew a worn, folded piece of paper from a side pocket buried in the black satin material of her gown.