“I don’t have an answer to that, sir.”
“It’s perfectly obvious that she would come to you since you’re now James’s wife,” said Alexandra. “It doesn’t mean she isn’t worried about Douglas as well, but since you are now James’s wife, he must be your first concern.”
Corrie said, “I wonder why she didn’t tell me who was behind this?”
No one had an answer for that. Alexandra said, “I have sometimes thought there are things she doesn’t know. In other words, a ghost isn’t omniscient.”
“But she knew you were taken by Georges Cadoudal,” Douglas said, then looked like he wanted to shoot himself. He closed down tighter than a clam, didn’t say another word.
Annabelle’s lovely white brow furrowed in concentration. “Why wouldn’t any young man want to kill the people he believed responsible for his father’s death?”
Douglas said, “That’s a good point, Mrs. Trelawny, but Georges and I weren’t enemies; I had nothing to do with his assassination. Surely his son must know that. But it hasn’t seemed to matter.”
“And now James has been added to the list. Why on earth would Georges’s son want to kill James? They must be about the same age. They’ve never met.”
The discussion continued until Hollis cleared his throat. “Cook wishes to feed all of you now. My lord, my lady, you will please rise and come into the dining room.”
“Ah, William,” Annabelle said as Hollis assisted her, “you are such a masterful speaker. Wellington should beg you to deal with those ridiculous French. Can you imagine, they’re rebelling again?”
“Oh yes,” said Hollis. “The French must needs fight against themselves; they must needs fight against others. Disagreement and perversity sing through their blood, poor blighters.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The Devil gets up to the belfry by the vicar’s skirts.
THOMAS FULLER
IT WAS THE end of November. In England, in Corrie’s experience, that meant unrelenting cold, so much wind you couldn’t keep a bonnet on your head, and endless invading dampness that made your bones ache and your teeth chatter.
But not today. Today in southern England, at least, the sun was high overhead and clouds were fat and white against a brilliant blue sky. There wasn’t a hint of fog, not a breath of wind, only abundant sweet fresh air that wafted about your head, making you smile and breathe deeply.
“Just incredible,” Corrie said to one of the hunting dogs that trotted at her side, his tail a waving flag, as she walked toward the stable where James, Jason, and a half dozen stable lads were breeding the new mare to Bad Boy.
In her pocket she carried the small derringer James had bought her two days before. She’d practiced firing it, and James admitted yesterday afternoon, after watching her shoot for some ten minutes, that she was a natural. He sounded peeved about her skill, and that made her grin at him, wickedness overflowing in that grin, and he picked her up and whirled her around and around until she was dizzy and laughing so hard she could barely hang on. Then he’d carried her into a small maple copse and laid her down on his coat beneath a fir tree. Ah, so very nice that was. So it had been on the cold side. Who cared? It wasn’t cold at all today. Hmmm.
Corrie was smiling even as she quickened her pace. She heard the mare whinny, heard Bad Boy stomping. She came to the paddock, leaned her arms against the wooden railing, and looked toward James.
No, she saw immediately, it wasn’t James, it was Jason. How could she have been deceived even for an instant, no matter that he was standing some thirty feet away, examining Bad Boy’s front hoof?
Where was James? He should be here. But then she knew, and her heart plummeted. He was in danger.
She shouted, “Jason! Where is James?”
Jason dropped Bad Boy’s hoof and strode over to her. “Good morning, Corrie. I expected James to be here before now. He’s probably in the estate room reviewing documents with Father. He’ll be here sooner or later. Stay, Corrie, James would want you to.”
She was torn. James was on his way here. Very well, she’d wait. She settled herself on the paddock railing. Two minutes passed. “I can’t do this. Something’s wrong.” Jason, who’d been breathing a heartfelt sigh of relief, froze in his tracks. She said to the back of his head, “Forgive me, Jason, but I’m worried. I’ll go look for him. I’m afraid. You must be careful too, Jason. This man who is after James, he might not know that you are not he.”
Jason turned and walked to her, squeezed her arm. “Yes, I know, and yes, I understand you very well. I will be surrounded by people. But I wish you would stay here, where James knows you are. He’s probably still in the house; when he comes, he’ll bring Judith here with him.” He grinned up at her there, still seated on the railing. “If she’s going to be the wife of a horse breeder, she should understand what it’s all about.” Then he took her hands in his and separated them, held them tightly. “Don’t, Corrie. Everything will be all right, I promise you.”
“But you can’t know, you-”
“Ah, Mrs. Trelawny is here in her very smart landau. Excellent. Stay still, Corrie, and stop worrying.” He gave her another pat and shouted, “Lovejoy, let’s see how the mare’s doing. That’s right, that’s right, bring her out, slowly, SLOWLY! All right, that’s fine. Hold her still now.”
Bad Boy wanted the mare desperately. Jason had covered Bad Boy’s front hooves with soft cotton stockings so he wouldn’t hurt her. Corrie felt for the derringer in her pocket and was reassured. She watched, paying no attention to the trembling horses, her ears alert for James’s voice. Where the devil was he? Was he with Judith? She looked up to see Jason pull his watch out of his pocket, say something to Lovejoy, then come striding toward her. She would have sworn there was worry on his face, but when he looked at her, it was gone.
“I have an appointment with one of the Bow Street Runners. Stay here, trust James to come for you, I mean it. It’s important you remain here, Corrie.”
She watched him nearly break into a run toward the hall. Something was wrong, very wrong indeed. She was to stay here? Why, in heaven’s name?
DOUGLAS RAISED HIS head at the gentle tap on the estate room door. He paused only a moment before calling, “Come.”
The door opened quietly to show Annabelle Trelawny’s smiling face as she leaned into the room. “Oh, forgive me, my lord. I’m looking for my dear William.” She stepped into the room now, looked around. “Oh dear, don’t tell me that you’re alone?”
“Do come in, Annabelle. Yes, I’m quite alone.”
“I thought William might be with you. He is very fond of you, enjoys being in your company.”
“And I enjoy his company as well. You did not receive my message, Annabelle? I had a lad take it to you several hours ago, telling you that Hollis left to execute an errand for me today. I didn’t think you would wish to spend time here without his being present.”
“What errand did you send him on, my lord?”
If he considered her question impertinent, Douglas gave no sign. He said easily, “There is information coming in at Eastbourne. I believe it will answer most of our questions. I am very sorry Hollis isn’t here, Annabelle.”
“As am I, to be sure. However, my lord, I would pray that you not underestimate your own charms.”
“My charms, Annabelle?”
She pulled a long-barreled dueling pistol from her cloak pocket. “As a matter of fact, my lord, I am delighted Hollis isn’t here. He would have been in the way, would have tried to save you, and who knows? I might have had to shoot him.
“That you sent him away, I thank you, my lord. I am relieved.” She smiled at him. “Let me also thank you for sending the lad. I knew everything had to come to an end soon, but the right circumstances hadn’t yet presented themselves. But now all is as I would wish it. William is gone, Lady Alexandra is off visiting Lady Maybella, and Jason is at the paddocks. It is now just you and me. It will happen now.” She looked quickly through the crack in the door, then turned back to him. “No, my lord, do not move. I am quite a good shot. I fancied you were getting close,
