Ton. In short, her life was perfect…as long as one did not mind the fact that her marriage was a sham.
There was no love in their marriage. They lived apart, had never shared a bedroom, never even spoken words of love or passion. And it did not help matters a bit to know that it was all entirely her own fault.
Rachel gave her young companion a smile, hoping the girl would not notice the brittleness of it. “Yes,” she agreed, settling back into her seat. “I am very lucky to be Lady Westhampton.”
Torches burned in front of Darkwater. It was a beautiful house, named for a nearby tarn that was black as night, not for the house’s limestone walls, which were pale, almost golden in the Derbyshire sunlight. At night one could not see its graceful lines or centuries-old mullioned windows, only grasp the vague outline of its considerable hulk. But Rachel had grown up here, and she knew it without having to see it. She flung open the carriage door as soon as the vehicle rolled to a stop and leaned out to look at the house.
Jenks scrambled down from the top of the carriage to pull down the steps and help Rachel and Gabriela out. Even as they emerged, the front door of the house opened, and two footmen came out carrying candles to light the ladies’ way into the house.
“Lady Westhampton!” A middle-aged man, dressed in the formal attire of a butler, hastened out the front door, smiling broadly. “I am happy to welcome you to Darkwater again! We have been expecting your arrival any time this past day.”
“Hello, Cummings.” Rachel smiled warmly at the man who had been the butler here since she was a child. “Allow me to introduce Miss Gabriela Carstairs. Miss Carstairs is the ward of the Duke of Cleybourne.”
The man bowed gravely to Gabriela. “May I welcome you to Darkwater, Miss Carstairs? The Duke and Duchess have been waiting eagerly for your arrival. Ah, here they are now.”
Foregoing formality, the members of the household were hurrying out the opened front doors despite the chill of the night air. In front were a tall, stunning red-haired woman and a man of dark mien, both smiling broadly. Slightly behind them came another couple, a pretty pregnant woman and a devastatingly handsome man, followed by a young girl of about Gabriela’s age.
“Gaby!” The redhead, who was the new Duchess of Cleybourne, threw her arms open wide to her charge. She had been the girl’s governess for six years before marrying Gabriela’s guardian, and she looked upon her almost as her own child.
“Miss Jessie!” Gabriela flew into her arms and hugged her tightly. When she was at last released, she turned to the man beside the duchess, smiling up at him a little shyly. “Your Grace.”
He smiled, lighting up his dark face. “Have you forgotten, Gabriela?” he asked lightly. “I thought we agreed we were not to be so formal.”
“Uncle Richard,” she corrected with a smile, and when he, too, held out his arms to her, she went into them quickly for a heartfelt, if somewhat less energetic, hug.
The duke and duchess turned to Rachel, who had been caught up in hugs by the other couple, her brother Devin, the Earl of Ravenscar, and his wife, Miranda, who was several months along with child. There were more greetings all around, with Richard introducing his new ward to the earl and countess.
“And,” Richard went on, with a smile to Gabriela, “there is someone else who has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Lady Ravenscar’s sister, Miss Veronica Upshaw, is here visiting, and she is just about your age, fifteen last month. Veronica…”
The girl stepped forward, smiling at Gabriela. She was a pretty thing, with light-brown hair and blue eyes, though there was little about her that resembled her sister Miranda. She was, Rachel knew, Miranda’s stepsister, rather than any blood relative, the daughter of the woman whom Miranda’s father had married when Miranda was in her teens. Mr. and Mrs. Upshaw lived much of the time in London, Miranda had told Rachel, but all had agreed that Devin’s country estate was the best place for the young girl. There would be time enough for London in a few years, when she had her coming out.
Rachel smiled a little, thinking that these two girls would probably have their coming out in the same year. The Ton, she thought with unabashed delight, would doubtlessly reel under the joint assault upon it by the formidable team of the duchess and the countess. Rachel intended not to miss a party that Season.
Laughing and talking, the group went inside. The girls retreated to Veronica’s room upstairs, both of them thrilled at finally having someone their own age to talk to, while the adults returned to the music room, where the two couples had been wiling away the evening before Rachel’s arrival.
Their conversation turned first to polite inquiries as to Rachel’s trip. With studied calm, Rachel replied, “It was all right, really, except for being stopped by a highwayman.”
The four other people in the room stared at her speechlessly for a long moment. Then Devin sprang to his feet, his ready temper rising. “What? Are you joking?”
“No. Not at all. It was the most peculiar thing.”
“Peculiar!” Dev exclaimed. “That is hardly how I would describe it.”
“Oh, yes, you would, if you had been there.”
“Rachel! Why didn’t you tell us immediately?” Miranda cried, getting up a little awkwardly and coming over to her sister-in-law. “Are you all right? You weren’t hurt, were you?”
“No. I just lost a few coins, that is all. He did not threaten me at all.”
“What the devil was he doing all the way up here?” Cleybourne asked. “Have you heard anything about this chap before, Dev?”
“No, not a bit. I can scarcely think it would be profitable patroling the byways of Derbyshire.”
“I’m not at all sure that profit was his primary motive. He indicated that he was taking the money mostly for show—so his men would not suspect.”
“What? Suspect what?” Dev looked at Rachel suspiciously. “Are you sure you aren’t having us on?”
“No, I promise you. I told you it was most peculiar. He seemed—well, he apparently thought Michael was in the carriage. He said he saw the coat of arms on the door. I’m not sure if he meant he was lying in wait for his carriage—I cannot imagine how he would know that it would be coming by any time soon—or if he was traveling to Westhampton and just stumbled upon us.”
“A highwayman was meeting Michael?” Miranda asked. “Whatever for?”
“He said he wanted to warn Michael. So he told me to give Michael this message—that someone wishes him ill, that Michael is ‘too close,’ and there are people who mean to stop him.”
Her words were met with another stunned silence.
“Are you sure you heard him right?” Dev asked finally.
“Yes. Ask Gabriela. She witnessed it all. That is what he said. Then he said he was sorry, but he would have to take something to make it look right, or something like that. And he wanted my emerald studs, but I protested and said they were a bride’s gift from Michael, and he took a purse full of coins instead. Then he left.”
“I’m sorry,” Jessica said tentatively.
