you in, living in the grand manner you think is your due. You have got above yourself. Enough is enough, I say, so pack your bags and be ready to leave as soon as Braithwaite has read the will.’
‘That’s right, Jeremy. You tell her straight,’ Claudia quipped while running her fingers appreciatively down the thick damask curtains and eyeing the crystal chandelier and Turkish carpet beneath her feet. ‘Nothing but a beggar—an upstart she was. She doesn’t belong here—never did. It’s time she was put in her place.’
Henrietta thought that was comical coming from her. Hadn’t Jeremy plucked her off the stage in Drury Lane? She would have laughed out loud had the situation not been so serious.
‘She will be, my love. I guarantee it.’ Jeremy looked Henrietta over, noting her trim figure, with its tiny waist, her prim beauty, the red-gold of her hair and softly rounded curves beneath her mourning dress. As much as he had intended exacting revenge on his uncle’s ward, with her proud head elevated to a lofty angle and her eyes blazing defiance, as much as he might have wished otherwise, it was blatantly obvious that Claudia suffered badly in comparison.
‘You cannot do this,’ Henrietta said. ‘I beg you to reconsider.’
‘I suppose I could—for a price.’
‘Now don’t you go making any bargains with her, Jeremy,’ his wife chided. ‘She’s going and that’s final.’
‘I suppose something could be worked out between us,’ Jeremy said, his gaze dwelling on a rounded breast, giving no indication that he had even heard his wife.
Henrietta shrank as she felt the weight of his stare. She could feel his eyes burning into her flesh through the fabric of her dress. Her heart pounded and she looked up at him, suddenly wary. His eyes held a hard, predatory gleam and a confident smile stretched his thin lips that made her skin crawl. His thoughts were the kind a decent young lady would not invite.
‘Of course there is the matter of your guardianship to consider, Henrietta. It cannot be overlooked. As the legal ward of my late uncle, I expect the responsibility has fallen on me. In which case I have legal ownership of you. You must obey me. Obviously you have not yet come of age whereby you can make lawful decisions on your own. I am duty-bound to provide for you.’
It was the smugness of his expression which finally brought Henrietta’s senses to life. ‘I am not your ward,’ she retorted, seething at his arrogant assertion. ‘I do not believe there is the mention of any guardianship being transferred to you in any will. A moment ago you were prepared to throw me out on the street. That was hardly an act of solicitude.’
Jeremy’s eyes became less threatening. ‘I acted a tad hastily, I admit. As I said, I will allow you to remain for the time being—’
‘But for a price,’ Henrietta said, cutting him short, incensed by what he was suggesting. ‘How dare you insult me so? To have made such suggestions at all is disgusting, but to make them in the presence of your wife is doubly so. How dare you come here prancing about like some arrogant lord, you graceless fop? I would rather take my chances on the streets than remain here with you and your wife. I would rot first.’
Jeremy’s eyes flared as her insults hit their mark. His face darkened to a motley red. ‘And you will. I’ll see to that, I promise you,’ he flared, his whole body shaking with rage. ‘Now go to your room and don’t come down again until I give you permission.’
There was a warning in his voice which sent a shiver of fear through Henrietta. She backed away. ‘Most willingly.’
She turned on her heel, leaving the room as two maids came in carrying trays laden with a silver tea service, fine china and a plate of sweet delicacies to tempt the palate.
She was halfway up the stairs when, having second thoughts, she decided to return to try again to inform Jeremy about his uncle’s change of solicitor. The door was ajar and she paused, steeling her nerves for further confrontation, but on hearing Claudia’s shrill voice she remained where she was.
‘I thank the Lord she’s going. She couldn’t continue living here.’
‘Don’t worry, my love,’ Jeremy said, biting into one of cook’s delicious iced cakes, scattering crumbs down his fine silk waistcoat. ‘You won’t have to put up with her for long. Henrietta Brody no longer has any place here and, as soon as the will is read, one way or another she will cease to exist.’
‘It’s a pity we failed to get rid of her along with the old fools. But then we must be thankful that everything went off as we hoped, better even since they had the sense to die and leave you everything.’
‘It had to be done. I couldn’t wait any longer. With creditors baying at the door, it was either that or the debtors’ prison.’ A sudden vision of himself locked in a filthy prison cell at the mercy of other prisoners and the guards flashed into Jeremy’s mind’s eye. It was a vision that had haunted him too much of late for comfort. ‘It’s not too late for Henrietta Brody. I vow I’ll see her hanged before I let her touch an object or a penny of what’s mine.’
Henrietta listened in amazement and shock to this eruption of venom. Horrified, she saw at last the cynical calculation of these two, who had coolly set about playing on her guardians’ goodness and her own innocence. Even more than their revelation was the contemptuous way this creature who was Jeremy’s wife dared to speak of her guardians’ memory that roused her anger.
‘Not only that, the girl’s a papist, isn’t she?’ Claudia added with scorn. ‘They’re likely to stab one in one’s bed with the smallest hint of an uprising. Don’t forget what happened to her father.’
Having heard enough and horrified at what their words implied—that they had been responsible for the death of her guardians and that she would have suffered the same fate had she not pleaded the onset of a cold, which had prevented her attending the theatre that night—Henrietta backed away from the door and, turning quietly, made her way to the baron’s study. The desk where he kept his private papers was locked, the key kept in a drawer in a separate bureau, although the deeds to the house and other important papers he kept with Mr Goodwin.
Opening each drawer in the desk in turn, she sifted through some household accounts until she found what she was looking for. Jeremy was right. There was a copy of the will, but it was the recent will drawn up by Mr Goodwin. Hearing Jeremy leave the morning room and cross the hall to the kitchen where he proceeded to bark orders at the staff, clutching the will in her trembling hand, gingerly she closed the study door. Afraid of making a sound, stealthily she tiptoed across the hall and flitted up the stairs to her room.
With shaking hands she opened the copy of the will and scanned what was written. She read enough to know that if she valued her life she must get away immediately. As Baron Lucas’s sole heir it was natural that Jeremy would expect to inherit his entire estate, but he had excluded Jeremy in favour of her.
Caught in a nightmare, she realised she was completely alone, at the mercy of demons that were intent upon destroying her. Who was to know what Jeremy would be tempted to do if he found out she had knowledge of the terrible crime he’d committed, one he would hang for? And on the morrow when he discovered his uncle had changed his solicitor and made a new will, leaving her everything, the knowledge would elicit terrible repercussions from Jeremy and she was not strong enough to stand against him.
Briefly she considered throwing herself on the mercy of her guardians’ friends, but dismissed this immediately. Jeremy had always been a golden boy and, because of the shocking
