Seaswept Abandon Page 33

  "Yes. Go. But mind that the spinet doesn't fall on your head."

  Rae thought she very nearly saw a smile on Stephens's hard mouth. Wonder of wonders.

  When Rae reached the music room, Nancy was already there.

  "Where have you been?" Nancy demanded suspiciously. Rae's explanation was interrupted frequently by Nancy's expressions of shock and horror. "Are you feeling quite the thing now?"

  "Yes. I only have a bruise on my shoulder." She showed Nancy the red mark. "I can finish in here. Leave me your duster. Mine must be in the library. And I'm not going back for it."

  "I should say. Forget about it, I may as well help you in here." She handed Rae a polishing cloth. "Give the chairs a good rubbing."

  Rae set about her task with vigor, willing herself not to think about all she had heard in the library. But curiosity was eating her, and she finally dared to broach one subject with Nancy. "What is a hunt?"

  Nancy's hand stilled, then resumed dusting a shade frantically. "Surely you've heard of a hunt. Foxes and hounds, that sort of thing. They must have them in America."

  "Yes, of course, but I don't think they're the same as the ones at Linfield."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "It was something I overheard and—"

  Nancy gasped. "You were eavesdropping!"

  "No. No, I wasn't, not intentionally anyway. I was lying on the deck and I couldn't move. Can I help it that I heard some things? What would you have done?"

  Nancy's appalled expression vanished and she giggled. "Listened to everything," she admitted. "What did you hear?"

  Bless her, Rae thought. "The earl suggested that his grace host a hunt. Then he mentioned a Lady Georgina. What do you make of that?"

  "Humph. Like as not his lordship wants to hunt for the lady."

  "That's what I thought they meant, but I didn't understand."

  Nancy's voice became hushed as she knelt beside Rahab and flicked her duster over the spindle-legged chair. "It's been a long time since there was a hunt like that at Linfield. His grace invites all his fast friends and their ladies, mostly demireps, but a few quality whose tastes run to licentious ways. This house fairly swells with guests, I can tell you. The revel usually lasts a week, and I cannot begin to describe the sort of carryings on that go unremarked by the guests." Rae nearly laughed as Nancy then began to catalogue the activities. "Lords and ladies coming and going from bedrooms late into the night, drinking first thing in the morning, and card playing till some of the players fall asleep at the tables. There's dancing, of course, and musicians, and feasting the likes of which you can only imagine. But the hunt is always held on the day before the guests depart. Oh, must you hear it?"

  "Yes. I want to know. I suspect I shall find out soon enough, for I think the duke intends to have one."

  "Very well, but you'll have to pardon my plain speaking." She took a deep breath and explained in a rush. "On the morning of the hunt the men choose one of the ladies to be the vixen. Most often she is a willing participant, but sometimes not. It makes little difference, for she has no choice but to play. She is given a start on the hunters and freedom to go anywhere on the lands, but to prevent her from wandering too far afield she must wear a collar with bells on it that cannot be removed except by key. There is only one, and the duke has it."

  "You are making this up."

  "No! I swear it is so! And it becomes worse. When she is cornered by a hunter, or hunters, if she should be so unfortunate, she must surrender."

  "Surrender? How?"

  "She must lie with him... or them. It may even be a woman who finds her, for the ladies are free to take part in the hunt if they desire. The vixen is the pet of her captor for the entire day and night and the collar is affixed to a slender chain that leads to her owner's wrist. Once she is found, there is no escape for her."

  "That is depraved!"

  "Aye, it is. But the participants do not seem to find it so. I cannot understand it myself. I shudder when I think we might have it here again. It's not decent."

  Rae smiled grimly at Nancy's understatement. "Mayhap it will not occur. The duke told Newbrough he was bored with the idea of a hunt."

  "I hope it is so," she said fervently. "I have known of two of them. It is enough."

  But the duke did not ask his parlormaids' opinions. Footmen were dispatched the following day to deliver his invitations to the revel at Linfield, which was scheduled for some four weeks hence. Rae tried to console Nancy that perhaps this party would not end in a hunt, but neither girl was convinced. Neither were any of the other servants. They shook their heads, whispered among themselves that good Christian folk shouldn't be subjected to such Bacchanalia, but bore the extra duties stoically, too secure in their posts to venture speaking out or attempting to find new employment.

  Rahab had no such qualms about leaving. She determined she could depart on a Saturday, some two weeks before Linfield filled with guests, without causing any disturbance. The gold coin Jericho had tossed at her to humiliate her would buy her a seat on the coach to London. She had given the matter a great deal of thought and had concluded there was only one thing she could do. Risk or no, she would arrive at Jericho's residence before he left, with the old duke's will and the record of Ashley's birth from the Bible, and do all that was in her power to convince him not to accept the invitation to Linfield.

  It remained only for her to take the documents she needed from the library.

  Rae chose her time carefully, waiting for a morning when the duke and Newbrough were out riding. It was under Mrs. Ritchie's directive that she was sent into the library, so Rae thought herself safe enough. She glanced through the letters lying on a silver salver. They were probably responses to the duke's invitations. There was none from Jericho, and she took heart that there was still time to stop him.

  Rae made a show of dusting the room, glad she had not gone straight to the Bible because the library was a veritable congregating place this morning. Stephens entered twice unexpectedly, looking for Mrs. Ritchie on both occasions, and Nancy flitted in and out to give her the latest confidences from Mrs. Timms, who was quite behind schedule what with preparing menus, supervising the baking, and still making certain the duke had this evening's meal at the appointed hour. The sweep boy came in to clean the hearth and left a sooty mess that Rahab had to clean. By the time she reached the deck and fumbled for the Bible she had been in the library much longer than she thought proper, but she was too afraid that the opportunity to recover the documents might not arise again in time to take advantage of the situation. She had to do something now.

  She clutched the Bible to her bosom and descended the stool. Placing the heavy book on the top rung, she opened it and found—nothing. The record of births and deaths had been neatly torn out, and if she hadn't been looking for the frayed edging of the paper she wouldn't have known a page was missing. Quickly she thumbed the chapters to find the will. It was also gone. Desolation swept her as she replaced the book. No doubt Nigel had seen the books that had fallen and had taken the documents as a precaution, realizing if one such as she could stumble upon the incriminating Bible, it could be found by another.

  Shoulders slumped, she sat on the stool wondering what she should do next. She thought about the duke's desk with its secret spring, but a healthy sense of cowardice overtook her. It was one thing to go through it when Nigel was in London, quite another while he was in residence. She touched her abdomen gently, hoping her babe would not inherit her timidity.

  "Taking another repose from your labors, sweetings?"

  The earl's voice so startled her that Rae nearly fell from her perch.

  "Careful. You wouldn't want another tragic fall, would you?"

  Rae looked down at Newbrough coldly, and she saw his eyebrows raise in surprise at her directness. Remembering her place, she lowered her eyes and slid off the stool. Her hesitancy to come down the ladder with the earl within a few feet of the bottom was clear.

  "I can jus
t as well come up, sweetings." He took a step forward to do just that.

  His movement decided Rae. She was not about to be trapped on the deck with the likes of the Earl of Stanhope. She descended the ladder with as much caution and modesty as was possible, watching him warily over her shoulder. She faced forward only once, as her feet made to touch the floor, but it was enough opportunity for the earl to steal up behind her and place his hands about her waist. He turned her around and leaned her back against the ladder, then braced his arms on either side of her. The sleeves of his black velvet riding jacket brushed Rae's white blouse and reminded her of thick iron bars. He smelled faintly of horses and horse droppings. The thought that he had stepped in dung made Rae want to giggle hysterically.

  "Let me pass, m'lord," she said, looking beyond his shoulder to the door. Please let it open, she thought. Nancy, where are you now?

  "In a moment," he said easily. His eyes darted across her face, shoulders, and bosom, then came to rest on her mouth. "Why were you on the deck? Surely there were no more books out of place?"

  "No, but I was dusting the bindings."

  "Hmm. With what?"

  Rae followed the earl's glance to the mantelpiece where her duster lay. She prevaricated quickly. "That is, I went up there to dust, and was quite put out when I realized I'd left the thing behind."

  "And you were deep in the consideration of your own ineptness when I surprised you."

  "No, m'lord," she objected. "I was thinking on how tired I was and wondering if Mrs. Ritchie would notice if I were to forgo the upper shelves."

  "How unconscionable of you to shirk your duties," the earl said dryly.

  "Yes, m'lord, but there it is. May I pass?"

  Newbrough's eyes were once again on Rae's mouth. "A penalty is in order first, I think."

  "M'lord?"

  "A kiss. Mayhap you will not find it disagreeable in the least." He sounded very certain of his prowess as his head lowered. He was rather stunned to find his attentions very much unwanted.

  Rae turned her head to elude him and pushed with all her might at Newbrough's chest. While he did not go back far, it was enough to allow her to slip beneath his outstretched arms and run.

  "Come back here!"

  Rae ignored the command issued in thunderous tones and reached for the door handle. She twisted it, but it did not open.

  "It's locked," the earl said calmly enough. He dangled the key between his thumb and forefinger, then palmed it and slipped it inside his jacket. "Come here, sweetings."

  Rae blanched but stayed where she was.

  The earl began to advance. "I don't mind a bit of a chase, it adds sweetness to the prize. Is that your thinking, too?"

  Rae shook her head and looked about the room for some means of escape. She would be sick if the man touched her again. The windows offered no exit; even if they had been open the drop to the ground was too great.

  "Do not think it," he said, taking in her frenzied glance at the window. "Surely a kiss cannot be so repugnant to you. A wench with your looks must have known a man's lips."

  Rae's answer was to flee to the armless couch and put it between herself and the earl.

  Newbrough laughed. "This has all the possibilities of a French farce if you maintain this posture, girl."

  "Please open the door, m'lord, and let me pass. Someone is bound to come and wonder why the room has been locked. Think of your reputation, for it cannot be enhanced by cavorting with one of his grace's poor parlormaids."

  "Very prettily said. But you mistake the situation, for there is no one here who will remark upon a dalliance with you. Nigel's a tolerant sort."

  And of course, the rest of the household's opinion was of no importance. How foolish of her to forget that. "Is it only a kiss you are wanting?" she asked warily.

  "My dear," he said, smiling, "if you're willing to offer more than that on the couch, then by all means let's have at it, but a kiss was all I was asking."

  He sounded sincere, and it seemed the only means of leaving the room. "A kiss then, but unlock the door first."

  Newbrough rolled his tiny eyes heavenward, much amused by her bargaining. "Come, sweetings, can it be you doubt me?"

  "Yes."

  "You've a pert tongue and need to be taught your place, but I am a tolerant man myself on occasion." He took out the key and made a show of unlocking the door, opening it a notch to show it was indeed unlocked, then closing it again. He even tossed the key on a table. "I'll have that tart mouth of yours now, m'dear."

  Rae skirted the edge of the couch and waited. Newbrough approached almost without sound. He put his hands on Rae's small waist and drew her to him.

  Instinctively she bent backward, trying to avoid his mouth as it lowered. She could not close her eyes, and felt as she imagined a field mouse might, frozen into stillness, watchful and alert, anticipating the talons and deadly grasp of a great, swooping hawk.

  Newbrough's lips touched hers, and Rae's stomach churned. She willed herself to be calm and accepting of the kiss that ground her lips against her teeth, but her body would not listen. She pushed at the earl's chest as he deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth. It was more than she could bear, and she gagged. There was no mistaking the sound for one of passion, and Newbrough reared back his head, unused to having his attentions so reviled.

  "Please," Rae said softly. "Let me pass. You have had your kiss." She touched the back of her hand to her mouth, feeling her swollen lips.

  Newbrough knocked her hand aside. "Hardly a kiss, sweetings, for I was the only participant. I want a measure of it returned."

  "No."

  Newbrough dismissed her protest and slipped a hand around the back of her neck, forcing her face close to his. "You will kiss me this time," he whispered harshly, pulling her hair to force her to tilt her head.

  Revulsion swept through Rae and her body heaved and twisted. She tried to push away again, but the earl held her tightly, his conceit making him blind to the exact nature and consequence of her distress. His head lowered once more, and that was when Rae lost her breakfast.

  Newbrough stepped back quickly enough then, but it was too late. Rae tossed her partially digested meal on the earl's black velvet riding coat and pristine white shirt. Bending over, Rae retched again, this time on the floor at his feet.

  There was a terrible silence when she finished being sick. Rae dared not look at Newbrough as she began to straighten, touching the corner of her apron to her mouth and perspiring face. Eyes closed, she never saw the blow that knocked her off her feet and onto the divan.

  "Bitch!" Newbrough's voice was sharp and biting. "You'll pay for this!" He advanced on her and raised his hand to deliver another blow.

  Rahab's arms went up to protect her face, but Newbrough knocked them aside and landed the flat of his hand with terrible force against her cheek and temple. Through the tears that stung her eyes she saw him lift his hand again, and this time she escaped the punishing blow by rolling to the opposite side of the armless couch and dropping to the floor. Crouching, her fingers fumbled beneath her skirt for the dagger she wore against her thigh. Newbrough rounded the divan as she released her weapon, though it still remained hidden in her skirt.

  "Stay away from me!" she said tightly.

  Newbrough laughed unpleasantly, looking down at her hunkered figure. "You are hardly in a position to be telling me what to do." He grabbed her by the collar and pulled Rae to her feet, determined to give her the back of his hand again.

  His hand came up and stayed there, arrested by the sight of the dagger she brandished. Rae pulled away and stepped back several feet. "If you touch me again, you will feel the edge of my blade."

  "Bravo!" Rae and Newbrough both turned in the direction of the doorway, where the duke stood, clapping his hands slowly. "What theatrics! I am certain the London stage has nothing like it!"

  Newbrough straightened as a rush of color stained his cheeks. "Your maid's shown an appalling lack of mann
ers, Nigel," he explained haughtily.

  One of Nigel's eyebrows lifted in a lazy arc. "So I see... and smell." He made an impatient motion with his hand and Stephens stepped in from the hallway. "See that someone cleans this up." Stephens left the room without ever looking in Rae's direction, though she felt his displeasure and censure as surely as if he had stared her down. "Newbrough, I think a bath would not be amiss. You, girl, come with me to the study." Giving neither an opportunity to protest, Nigel turned on his heel and left.

  Rae began to leave, but Newbrough caught her by the elbow. "See if you don't pay for this piece of work, bitch." He flung her arm aside and strode out of the library. Trembling, Rae slipped her dagger into place and smoothed her skirts, then went to join the duke in his study.

  Nigel was seated in a wing chair by the large bay window when Rae walked in. On the table by his side was a serving tray with two delicate china cups and a pot of tea. "Don't hover, girl. Come in and shut the door."

  Rae did as she was told, taking a few tentative steps toward the duke before she stopped.

  The duke motioned to the tray. "Pour, would you? A cup for each of us, I think. Then sit down, for heaven's sake. I will not conduct this interview straining my neck to see you."

  Rae wanted nothing more than to flee the duke's unsettling presence, but somehow she forced herself to obey his wishes. She was amazed she did not spill any tea as she poured, and it appeared Nigel also found her calm remarkable, for there was something akin to respect in his unwavering eyes when she finally sat across from him and dared to meet his studying gaze.

  He sipped his tea, unruffled by Rae's stony expression, before he spoke. "You are the same girl I saw in the woods, are you not? The wench that colonial riffraff thought to foist upon me?"

  "Yes, your grace."

  Nigel's face remained inscrutable. "I thought as much. I can't think why the resemblance did not strike me before, yet I knew it the moment I saw you in the library with Newbrough. Perhaps it was the pasty complexion; you were not looking well the first time I saw you either."

  Rae could think of nothing to say. She was not even sure if she was required to speak. She took a hasty drink of her tea.