Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tessa remembered nothing of returning to the inn that night. She had a dim memory of Banaugh’s questioning face and Mrs. Goode’s kind inquiry into her health. She could not bear to talk about it. She’d reassured them and gone quickly from the warm little shop into the cold, not noticing it at all. Banaugh followed her to the inn to protect her from scoundrels, but she was unaware of it.
Questions flooded her mind. How had she gotten into this situation? What should she do now? How much longer could she take the range of emotions that knowing Jeffrey Brixton caused her? She had gone from fear and despising to admiration and—when she would admit it—love, but now what was left? And what were his feelings for her, to cause such a reaction at her confession? Did Jeffrey truly love her after all, and had that love been killed by the news of her hasty marriage to Cedric?
In her room at the little inn, Tessa paced for hours. She finally accepted fully that she believed nothing ill of Jeffrey at all. She saw his past actions with new clarity. His abduction of her that long-ago night at Inverness gave proof of good character rather than evil. A bad man would have simply killed her and saved himself much trouble. In a situation fraught with danger for himself, Jeffrey had done what he could to protect Tessa, taking her to Eleanor where she had been treated well and protected.
At the times when she’d seen his cool, amused exterior torn away, beneath it was a man of strong emotions. She could still feel the passion he’d shown when he’d let down his guard. The stoically proud person he showed to the world hid Jeffrey’s pain at the maltreatment he’d received from William, his shame at having nothing to call his own, and the pain of his true love, Eleanor, being beyond his reach, now forever. If he had begun to care for her, his pride had kept him from declaring it, believing as he had that he would remain landless for years, perhaps forever.
Recalling the look on his face tonight threatened to break her heart. One minute he’d been her friend, and the next, he had shut himself off from her completely.
Another thought sent her mood even lower. Jeffrey would soon become Lord Brixton. Even if she weren’t attached to someone else, what would he want with a penniless Scotswoman whose family was disgraced? Jeffrey was now a rich man with his pick of English girls. It was a miracle he’d even come to see her at all. Things would change quickly when he took up his new title.
Looking at the night’s events more clearly, Tessa convinced herself he had come only in gratitude for her attempted rescue at Hawick’s castle. Her heart hated the thought, but nothing she had experienced indicated love on Jeffrey’s part. Gentlemanly concern for a lady’s welfare sometimes, desire at others, but not love. Turning her face to the wall, Tessa willed herself to once again accept a future without Jeffrey Brixton in it.
Proof of Tessa’s conclusions became ever more real over the next few days as there was no sign of Jeffrey. She moped around the inn, feeling more confined than she’d ever felt before. A note from Mary asking her to visit to Hope House on Thursday lifted her malaise a little. Bursting for some word of Jeffrey, she accepted the invitation despite the dread of meeting old acquaintances.
Tessa didn’t know what to expect from the Hope family, but she was welcomed politely by the older Hopes and with warmth by Francis. Mary, of course, was thrilled to see her. Francis blushed and fell back into his old stammering ways but eventually became more at ease in her presence. Mistress Hope, typical of overbearing mothers everywhere, dominated the conversation with pronouncements about the dire state of the world and vague faults of “the young,”, to which the only rejoinder needed was an occasional nod. After a polite hour or so, the older woman left to do some visiting of her own, and Francis and his father went to another room to examine some correspondence, leaving Mary and Tessa a chance to really talk.
“Tessa, how is it with you?”
“Mary, I thank you for the loan you so kindly provided. It saved us, my old friend and me. Now he has employment, and we shall soon pay back the money.”
“It’s not necessary,” Mary smiled. “I was so glad to see you again after wondering for months if you were dead or alive. I still consider you part of the family.” She glanced slyly at Tessa. “And I think someone else would like to make that relationship official. Am I correct?”
Her heart leapt for a moment until she realized Mary meant Aidan, not Jeffrey. “It was hinted there were certain feelings present, but—”
“Aidan is going to have that silly marriage to Cedric annulled, since it was never consummated.” Tessa thought Cedric might be willing now that she had no connection to the Scottish throne and his dream of siring kings. “Oh, Tessa, how wonderful it would be if you were in truth a part of the family. Just think, we would be cousins and could be godparents for each other’s children.” Mary blushed.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Tessa teased, and Mary’s even deeper blush said all that was needed. “I am so happy for you!”
“Francis is thrilled, and his father makes the most ridiculous suggestions. That I should not look directly at ugly people or animals, lest the babe take on the look of them. Even my mother-in-law is pleased with me for once.”
They discussed her pregnancy for a few moments, but Mary finally returned to the former topic. “I do hope you and Aidan make a match. He loves you, I think, and Jeffrey will be more generous with him than William ever was, so he’ll see that you have everything you could wish for. Aidan has been wonderful through William’s illness, seeing to things and helping out where he could. I used to worry about him, but I believe he will settle down once he has a wife.”
It seemed Tessa had not convinced Aidan she would not marry him, for Mary obviously had been told otherwise. “He had to go to York, but he said he would return today or tomorrow, so as to meet with Cedric,” Mary went on.
Tessa paled. “Lord Acton is here in London?”
“Oh, yes.” Mary smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure it will be awkward for you, but you must eventually face him. It’s about the annulment Aidan plans to speak with Lord Acton.”
Dear Aidan, always efficient, always trying to be helpful. Knowing he had his own motives for wanting her to be free of Cedric, Tessa wasn’t as enthusiastic as Mary. Still, his help would be welcome if he was successful. She turned the subject again to Mary.
“Please tell me more about this child you are carrying. When will he make his appearance, as near as you can tell?”
As Mary chatted on about the baby, Tessa’s mind wandered in several directions. If she were free of Cedric, what would she do? Where was Hawick, and what trouble was he plotting? Would Jeffrey ever forgive her for marrying Cedric? To the last question, sadly, she thought she knew the answer. The Lord of Brixton Hall did not want to see her again, and she must forget the feelings she had begun to allow to grow in her heart. The Brixton she wanted would not have her, and the one who wanted her aroused only feelings of affection, not love.
Mary was still talking, and Tessa came back in time to hear the end of her sentence. “—so I mentioned to her I happened to know you had recently returned to London and suggested she invite you. If only to satisfy her curiosity, I’m sure you’ll be asked to their celebration, possibly this afternoon.”
Tessa smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry, Mary, but I—” she couldn’t put her embarrassment into words, but she looked down at the only dress she owned. It was clean, but that was about all that could be said for it. Travel had left it forlorn, its ribbons missing or frayed, the hem dirty beyond redemption.
“I am such a simpleton! How could I be so thoughtless? You must come with me to my room and pick out some gowns. I shan’t be needing them for, oh, seven months or so!” Mary led the way to her chamber and there found Tessa three gowns that could be altered to fit her, two for daily wear and one for evening. “The green is most flattering to your coloring,” Mary declared of the latter.
“But Mary, I’m not sure this is the right thing to do.” Tessa f
or once was less confident than her friend.
“Of course it is. You must re-enter society, so when Aidan asks for your hand, you will be ready to take your place as Lady Brixton. To Lord Acton and his mother you must be gracious and make no comment on where you have been for the last few months. I’m afraid Scotland is even less popular at the moment than usual. Young Siward, the old general’s son, was killed in the fighting with Macbeth, and of course others among the English as well. Still, you have charm. Most people won’t remember who your uncle was, and with your looks the men, at least, won’t care.”
“Mary, there is something I must tell you. It’s true Aidan has asked me to marry him when I am free of Cedric, but I have refused his offer.”
Mary’s face showed surprise, “But Aidan said—”
“Aidan thinks I can be persuaded, but I tell you, I will not marry him. I care too much for him and for all of you to make a marriage where there is no love. In fact, I don’t believe now that I can marry without love. I have learned things in the past year, and I no longer believe that security at any price is what I want from life.”
“I see.” Mary frowned thoughtfully. “He seemed so sure. Perhaps he means to ask again when you are more settled and have had time to think things over.”
Tessa knew what Mary was thinking. What other prospects had she? Even with an annulment, her reputation would be questionable after running away from her first husband, she had no dowry to make a man overlook her odd past, and her bloodline was not one that would win her many friends in England at this time. Mary dropped the subject, but Tessa was sure her friend thought her mad for not taking Aidan’s offer. Marriage to him would be comfortable despite his lack of a title, and he would care for her as Eleanor had intended.
She could not explain it to Mary any more than she could to Aidan. Tessa simply knew she would never marry at all unless it was to a man who’d won her heart. Rich or poor no longer mattered.
When she returned to the inn that afternoon, the invitation Mary had mentioned was there. The Ballards were having a masque at their home to celebration the harvest. The estate was near Oxford, close to Mary and Francis’ home. Tessa would journey to Mary’s house, stay a few days there, and attend the party with the young couple.
She and Mary had great fun making their masks, which seldom concealed anyone’s identity for long but were popular just the same. Tessa’s was silk of a deep green that matched the dress Mary had lent her, and she added twists of rose-colored ribbon as complements. The dress itself had sleeves fitted to the elbow, which then flared into wide V’s with a filmy white lining. The rounded neckline was cut low to reveal a gleaming white shift with embroidered trim. The draping skirt was pulled up in graceful scallops across the front to show an underskirt of the same white fabric as the sleeve linings. The points at which the skirt was gathered were adorned with ribbons that fell over the white below them with charming effect. Tessa’s hair, which was still quite short, was pinned back with combs and false curls added to make her more presentable. Mary despaired of her tanned face, adding powder to lighten it until Tessa sneezed repeatedly.
The manor was dazzling as they entered the main hall. Candles everywhere cast light and shadow, making the moving, masked figures seem mysterious at some times and colorful at others. Ladies in elaborate gowns with trailing skirts and bright trims moved smoothly across the hall, while gentlemen in tight hose and velvet tunics watched appreciatively.
Roger Ballard, a man of large proportions in every way, bawled out greetings, kissing the ladies greedily and slapping the men on their backs hard enough to make some of them wince. Dame Ballard, her husband’s physical opposite, was as small-boned and thin as Tessa remembered her, still looking as if she were always cold, both inside and out. Her main topic of conversation remained the divine Beatrice, the supposed twin to Tessa whom she had yet to meet.
Having strong feelings of discomfort about the whole evening, Tessa waited for Dame Ballard to launch into the questions that were sure to be invasive and offensive. Surprisingly, not a question was asked about where she had been for the past months. When greetings were exchanged, the lady began at once commenting on the resemblance between Tessa and her daughter. In her high, nasal voice, few things sounded like compliments, however. Something—or someone—had explained away Tessa’s past misdeeds, it seemed, and she was spared explanations of her flight, her absence, and her reappearance. Aidan’s work, she decided, breathing a sigh of relief.
It was not to last, however, for though she had no questions about Tessa’s recent travels, Dame Ballard had news that shook Tessa to her very core. “And did you suspect when you stayed with the Brixtons, my dear, that there was a criminal in that very household?”
A lady who stood nearby tried to shut the old woman up. “Barbara, you mustn’t say such things. They are only rumors, after all. No one knows the truth of it yet.”
Dame Ballard was not to be silenced, as usual. “I have had it from an excellent source that he has dealt with an outlaw in Scotland for years, feeding the brute information so he could rob and kill loyal Englishmen. He stole from his own brother, too. It’s true, because as soon as his so-called drowning occurred, the embezzlement stopped as well. I for one always thought he was suspicious, a little too handsome, a little bit above those around him. Pride goeth, as they say. He may pretend all he likes. The man is a thief and as good as a murderer, and he’ll never be allowed to take the title. Why, he’ll be lucky to escape hanging. If he were before me at this moment, my best recommendation would be he should return to Scotland, where they’re all murdering heathens.” The woman’s pale face registered suddenly the realization that she had gone too far, and she murmured in Tessa’s direction, “Present company excepted, of course,” as if that excused the deadly insult to Scots in general.
There was a shocked silence as Tessa tried to make sense of what she’d heard. The dame’s insult had no effect on her. The woman was a bigot of the worst kind and stupid to boot, but the import of the rest struck her. Dame Ballard seemed to be saying Jeffrey was the Englishman who’d plotted with Hawick. Impossible!
Could anyone believe Jeffrey would do that? You did, at least at times, her thoughts reminded her. But I didn’t, never truly, she decided. Aware that those around her were waiting to gauge her response to the dame’s tactless comment, she stammered out a weak response. “I am sure you meant no disrespect.”
In spite of her oblivious personality, the lady sensed a change of subject was called for. “And here you are back among us after months and months,” she whined. “Now you shall meet Beatrice, and she shall understand what I have told her, that you are her very double.”
She dragged Tessa across the room to meet a lady of some forty years who, at least once upon a time, had hair the color of Tessa’s and green eyes. There the resemblance ended, but the doting mother made everyone nearby judge how exactly alike the two were. They had to take off their masks and stand side by side, which certainly did no favors for poor Beatrice. Once, however, her eyes met Tessa’s and a light of amusement sparked in them. Beatrice was used to humoring her mother. So, it appeared, were many others, for murmurs of faint agreement were made, placating the old lady and allowing Tessa to escape her clutches. Dame Ballard wandered off to greet the newest arrivals.
Tying her mask on again, Tessa stood among strangers, making polite conversation and discreetly searching for Mary in the crowd. Her eye lit upon a man standing aside, his black silk mask extremely plain. The clothes he wore were also black, and though finely cut, quite nondescript, as if he wanted to call no attention to himself. She had the feeling he was staring at her, even though she couldn’t see his eyes. His head tilted an inch, and she recognized the movement. Jeffrey! Looking directly at him she bowed her head slightly, acknowledging him. In answer, he made a slight movement of his head toward a hallway at his back, then turned and disappeared down it. Glancing around, Tessa saw that no one paid heed to her at the moment. She hurri
ed after him.
Down the passage were three rooms. The first was empty. The second was locked, and she went on to the third. As soon as she stepped into the room, the door closed behind her. It was a small office. A desk with writing materials neatly arranged on it stood near the window, a cabinet set into the left wall had a key protruding from the lock, two chairs sat against the far wall on either side of a cold fireplace. That was all, except that Jeffrey Brixton stood behind her, leaning against the door he had just locked.
“Tessa.” He had removed the mask, and his face was serious, even haggard.
“Jeffrey, you should not have come. I have just heard the most ridiculous—”
He threw up a hand to stop her. “I know. I have been accused of monstrous crimes, and I must defend myself. There are rumors I will be arrested if I show my face. I have been staying with friends, trying to work out a plan to clear my name. But I had to come. I must speak to someone who will surely be here, to find out why this is happening.” His face tensed. “Although I have deduced it.”
So he had not come to see her. It had been a silly thought. If he’d wanted to talk to her, he could have come to the inn. “I did not know you would be here,” he said.
“It’s Mary’s doing. She is determined I shall be accepted in society.”
“And what of Cedric?”
“That was a mistake, as I tried to tell you. There is to be an annulment.” Tessa could not help herself. Her pride did not matter at this moment. “Jeffrey—I thought you were dead. Eleanor died. I had no one, nowhere to go! I—” His fingers touched her lips, and she stopped as he took her in his arms, his head bent over hers.
“I am sorry,” he whispered. “As soon as I left you that night, I knew in my heart you had done what you had to do. Only it was such a blow to believe you were lost to me. Just when I had decided that nothing mattered except—I mean, I had intended—”
Suddenly he was kissing her, and she was lost in the press of his lips on hers. The world stopped and nothing mattered, not the accusations against him or worry about the future—nothing. When he finally released her she stood mute, flooded with a thousand emotions, relief and happiness among them, but strongest was love, the love she had felt almost from the first, the love she now knew Jeffrey felt too.
Voices in the passageway brought them both back to their present situation. Jeffrey replaced his mask hurriedly and moved toward the window, pushing it open. “I must go. If I am successful tonight, my name will be cleared and I will come to you a free man. If not, I do not know when we shall meet again.”
“Jeffrey, what will you do?”
His face hardened. “I will put a stop to these lies about me. I know who is behind them and will deal with him tonight.”
“Be careful. If someone wants to harm you—”
“Then someone should understand I do not take such things lightly.” He spoke grimly, and he was gone.
Tessa left the room in confusion. Jeffrey did love her, but he was in grave trouble. He seemed driven, almost murderous in his intent to stop whoever had slandered him. And why would anyone say those things about Jeffrey? He was no thief, and he was not Hawick’s ally, she was sure. Who would want the world to believe such things?