Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Louisa awoke with a start, sitting straight up in bed and having to catch her breath as though she had been running.
Dear God, what dreams and nightmares!
She supposed that the panic of the previous day had disordered her mind in sleep.
First, she had dreamed again of being hunted around a woodland setting by a man she could not see, his vicious laugh curdling her blood.
Then, the Duke of Northwick had come to her rescue, just as he had done on the previous afternoon in the orchard at Rosemere.
There had been some kind of fight in which Benedict had proved victorious, and when his foe lay dead on the ground, Louisa saw that it was a dragon rather than a man. Well, that was only a scene from her old sketch book, wasn’t it?
After that, rather than kneeling at her feet as Sir Benedict had done before Lady Elizabeth in the book when making his proposal of marriage, Louisa’s dream Benedict had only lifted her in his arms and carried her deeper into the woods.
In her dream, the duke’s unusually colored eyes had burned with ardent physical desire and yet his kisses and his words to Louisa were gentle, echoing both his own statements in the library and what Seraphine had said to her in the art room.
Don’t be afraid any more. It is right that I should take you now, Louisa…
Louisa knew that her breathlessness stemmed from this last scene as much as the fearful chasing that preceded it.
Going to the washstand, she splashed her face with cold water.
In little more than a week, she and Benedict must endure the engagement party and in two weeks time, they would be man and wife.
Maybe her mind was only trying to prepare her for these ordeals.
Ordeals? The sight of The White Knight of Wanderham on her dressing table softened her feelings somewhat.
Finding it lying on her bed, and with that beautiful white rose too, had been a comfort to her on returning to her room after tea yesterday.
Benedict had clearly read the book, but he would not mock or tease her over it.
No, the Duke of Northwick was a good man at heart and it was no ordeal to marry him, only a disappointment of youthful ideals. The wedding would still be sad, of course, but it was hardly the tragedy it had first seemed.
Even lying with Benedict Hale would not really be an ordeal when the time came, would it? Although exciting, the thought of it still felt somewhat unreal and made Louisa rather nervous about the gaps in her practical knowledge.
I must speak to Seraphine before the wedding night and have her tell me more of coupling…
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
“I’ve brought warm water for washing, Lady Louisa,” said Melissa cheerfully. “Lady Esher has already gone down for breakfast.”
As Louisa entered the breakfast room, the three others already sitting at the table looked up at her with serious faces, conversation ceasing.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” she said with a small laugh, looking to her aunt, to Damien and then to Benedict.
Louisa supposed that Seraphine was in the nursery with the children and would join them shortly.
“Nothing that cannot wait,” replied Benedict calmly, folding and putting away some papers in his pocket.
Was it something to do with the marriage contract, Louisa wondered? Her aunt and future husband had both seemed ready to include Louisa in discussions and the latest version was expected back from the solicitors any day now. Louisa was well of age and it would be strange to keep anything from her.
While the title and estate of the Earl of Cavendish had passed to a distant cousin after Louisa’s parents died, her mother’s fortune, jewels and a generous dowry had come to Louisa.
Perhaps there was some minor complication with one of the trusts and they did not see the need to burden her. She would ask Aunt Beatrice later.
“I thought we would all have a picnic tomorrow,” Aunt Beatrice pronounced cheerfully as Louisa sat down and helped herself to bread and coffee. “The gardeners are sure there will be rain by the end of the week, so we must make the most of the outdoors while the sun shines.”
“Ezra and Fanny will be happy if we spend the day out of doors,” remarked Louisa. “We should take some hoops and balls with us and have some games for them too.”
“Very good idea,” her aunt agreed. “I thought Mr. Terrence might also join us, if I send him a message this morning. Mrs. Terrence is away visiting her mother unfortunately, but he is keen to speak to both of you again before the wedding and we might as well combine business and pleasure.”
“Of course,” murmured Louisa, smiling at the thought of the busy little rector, a man of high principle but good nature, who took his job so very seriously, and did indeed make a point of having thorough conversations with any of his parishioners before conducting a wedding ceremony. “I would expect nothing less of him.”
Aunt Beatrice laughed and drank her coffee.
“Yes, Mr. Terrence always says he believes that counseling couples before the marriage saves him time and effort in counseling them after it.”
“I am not sure I wish to be counseled,” put in Benedict, although with a smile. “I am five-and-thirty after all.”
“Oh, just humor him,” Aunt Beatrice advised. “Our rector is a good sort of man and means well.”
“I’m sure Benedict can manage that,” Damien observed. “Now, where are we to have this picnic? After the incident yesterday, we will go out and look over the area in advance to make sure there are no disturbances.”
“In the field on the far side of the Rosemere lake, I thought,” proposed Lady Esher. “Then we have grass, woodland and water for the children to play.”
“Very good.”
Standing and bowing to the ladies, the two gentlemen took their leave.
“Do you really think the man in the orchard yesterday was Lord Ashbourne?” Louisa asked her aunt after they were gone. “I know Benedict is convinced, for he said it to all of us yesterday.”
Lady Esher nodded with a troubled expression.
“You should know, Louisa, that Lord Ashbourne has been writing some very peculiar and rather offensive letters to the Duke of Northwick. He has taken news of your engagement very badly indeed and it is not only on instinct that we suspect him, but on the grounds of his own words.”
“It seems so strange, Aunt Beatrice,” reflected Louisa further, frowning. “Lord Ashbourne visits Lady Huxley every summer and Christmas and has never even called on us here at Rosemere, has he? Why would he suddenly begin writing such letters to Benedict and stalking me about the estate?”
Louisa herself could not say positively or negatively whether the laugh she heard or the coat and shadow she saw might have belonged to Lord Ashbourne, remembering him only vaguely from their brief meetings at Huxley Manor in previous years.
Her lack of conviction stemmed not so much in a belief in Lord Ashbourne’s good character as the difficulty in believing that anyone really meant her ill.
“It is very strange and yet I do fear it it is true, Louisa,” sighed her aunt.
“I never really believed in Lord Ashbourne’s partiality to you until now.
If I am honest, I supposed him a confirmed bachelor and assumed he only pretended an interest in courting you to satisfy his cousin.
Lady Huxley has always wished him to settle down and become a family man. ”
“Well, if you believe that he was our trespasser, then I must trust your judgement, Aunt Beatrice,” Louisa said after some thought. “What ought I to do about it?”
“Only stay away from the Huxley estate and from Lord Ashbourne,” the older woman warned her. “It should not be hard. With the Duke of Northwick and the Duke of Wexford on hand, it would make no sense at all for Lord Ashbourne to make a further nuisance of himself.”
“But what about the engagement party?” Louisa pointed out. “How can I avoid him if he comes with Lady Huxley?”
“I have already written to Lady Huxley and told her that under the circumstances, they are no longer invited,” Aunt Beatrice told her.
Louisa leaned over and kissed her aunt on the cheek.
“Thank you, Aunt Beatrice. You have always kept me safe.”
The silver-haired lady put a hand over Louisa’s and regarded her niece with affectionate sadness.
“I have always done my best, Louisa. That is also why I must say something else to you now, given the situation with Huxley Manor and all that I have learned of Lord Ashbourne. I know that you have spoken before of continuing to live here at Rosemere after your wedding, with the duke visiting regularly…”
“Lots of married couples live in such arrangements,” Louisa said, hearing the doubt in her aunt’s voice and thinking to reassure her. “It is perfectly proper, and I should not care what gossips say of us in any case.”
“Nor I,” replied her aunt. “However, I fear that you might be safer if moved away from here, Louisa. Go far away with your husband, to somewhere that Lord Ashbourne will never visit, like Northwick. I could not keep you by my side, knowing that you were in a place of danger.”
“Leave Rosemere?!” responded Louisa in a choked voice, “I could never leave Rosemere! No, it surely cannot be that bad, can it? Lord Ashbourne cannot be that bad?”
Aunt Beatrice patted her niece’s hand as Louisa’s speechless dismay threatened to translate into tears. Leaving her beloved home was a terrible prospect, especially when she had already lost so much.
Yet, whatever happened, at least Louisa would not be alone.
This thought came to her from nowhere and the idea of the Duke of Northwick at her side was unexpectedly comforting.
Louisa’s heart would always be at Rosemere, of course, but life at Northwick would not be unbearable, and Louisa had just as much confidence as Aunt Beatrice in Benedict’s ability to keep her safe.
“Some men are far worse than you can know yet, my dear,” Lady Esher said softly, watching the succession of different expressions crossing her niece’s face, “just as others are far better.”
Louisa nodded.
Yes, I am beginning to learn that…
While his friend took his turn at the billiard table, Benedict read again through the long letter Damien had received that morning. The two men had gone to the games room to continue the conversation that Louisa’s arrival had interrupted at breakfast.
“When I wrote and asked old Gerry to discreetly look into the Earl of Ashbourne, I was hoping he would tell us that the man was a harmless crank,” Damien confessed.
“I wanted to put your mind at rest, but this reply changes everything, doesn’t it?
Gerry’s a reliable fellow and very well-connected, as you know.
I see no reason to doubt anything he reports. ”
Benedict nodded.
“If I brought a court case, do you think any of the witnesses your friend spoke to might be willing to give evidence?” Benedict speculated.
“Maybe, at least those gentlemen he threatened with a knife in Boodle’s. That’s what got him blackballed there in the end, although his behavior was already raising eyebrows. White’s turned him down years ago and no other club will have him now. Nor will any better class of bawdy house.”
“What about the other incidents? Who was the owner of that brothel where he half killed one of her girls because he didn’t like her having other clients?”
“Madame de la Caravel doesn’t like getting the law involved,” Damien said, straightening up and shaking his head. "It’s bad for business. She’s satisfied enough that her bouncers worked him over and he’s banned from every brothel she knows in Chelsea.”
“Well, what about the street girl who was with him when he stabbed that pickpocket?”
“Gerry said she was absolutely terrified. It took money, gin and the moral support of two of her colleagues to get that story out of her in the first place. It certainly casts a new light on the newspaper story at the time about Lord Ashbourne bravely fighting off a ruffian would-be thief.”
“Stabbing to death an unarmed youth who tried to take his wallet doesn’t sound half as brave does it,” noted Benedict grimly.
‘Twenty times Lord Ashbourne stabbed that lad, Benedict,” Damien specified, his face and tone both very troubled. “No wonder the girl went half out of her mind after seeing it.”
“Vicious bastard,” swore Benedict. “Well, I’ll write to Gerry’s friends at Boodle’s, and see whether they’re prepared to be involved in legal action…”
“But what kind of legal action?” Damien pointed out.
“What can you actually say Lord Ashbourne has done yet? He has certainly made himself as nuisance with all those crazed letters to you, and there’s good circumstantial evidence that he has been trespassing at Rosemere, but can you prove he has broken any law? ”
“Do you know the most important word in all that you just said to me, Damien?” Benedict said calmly, now chalking his own cue and stepping up to the billiard table. “It was the word ‘yet’. I cannot wait for him to do more than vent his spleen in letters to me.”
“Take Louisa to Northwick after the wedding, as Lady Esher suggested,” Damien urged him. “He may forget her once she is away from Rosemere - out of sight, out of mind.”
“He will not,” Benedict answered very surely, “but before I consult my solicitors, I intend to call on Lord Ashbourne and make my feelings very clear to him. Let us see what he has to say for himself, face to face.”
“I will come with you,” his friend immediately told him. “Please, whatever you do, be careful in confronting Lord Ashbourne. He is a dangerous man, and he has killed before.”
“I am also a dangerous man, Damien,” Benedict retorted, potting another ball on the table, and remembering afresh the sight of a man’s body on flagstones viewed from high above, dark blood pouring out around the still figure.
I too have killed before…