As London grew closer, Desire leant forward in her seat, straining to see what lay ahead. The fierce winds of the previous day had thankfully dropped, but the smell of the fire grew stronger with every sweep of the oars. The surface of the Thames was scattered with fire debris. A thick layer of smoke blocked out the sky. London was still burning.
A gust of smoke at water level caught in Desire’s throat. She coughed and the acrid taste of destruction filled her mouth. Deep foreboding filled her. Was Godwin House still standing?
For a moment she closed her eyes, unwilling to see the realisation of her worst fears, but after only a few seconds she opened them again. She had to see what had happened to her home.
But from water level, with the smoke hanging so heavily over the river-bank, she could see nothing except the wall that protected the grounds of Godwin House from access by the Thames. Her heart thudded with the effects of fear, smoke and frustration. She half-stood up, prompting an instant rebuke from the wherryman.
‘Sit you down!’ he ordered. ‘Otherwise you’ll be swimming the rest of the way.’
She sank back on to the seat, her hands tightly gripped in her lap. She felt sick from more than the smell of smoke. At last the wherry was in line with the watergate. She scrambled on to the first of the river-stairs without waiting for assistance. She didn’t hear Jakob exchange a few words with the wherryman before he followed her up the slippery steps.
She grabbed the bars of the gate, peering through them, past the formal gardens to the house…
‘It’s still standing!’ Her relief was so great her knees sagged. She clung to the gate, tears pouring down her cheeks. It was only as the crushing fear for Godwin House released its grip on her that she discovered just how deeply afraid she’d been of losing her home.
But the house still stood. As solid, reassuring and familiar as it had ever been. Laughing and crying at the same time, she fumbled in her pocket for the key to the gate.
‘We can’t go in now, my lady.’ Jakob put his hand over hers, preventing her from lifting the key to the lock.
‘Of course we can.’ She tried to shake off his restraining grip, impatient to be back within familiar walls.
‘Not now. We’ll come back later.’
‘I don’t want to come back later. I’m going in now!’ Desire tried to wrench her hand out of his clasp and banged her shoulder against the bars of the gate.
He muttered under his breath and pulled her towards him.
‘Stop struggling, you’ll hurt yourself,’ he warned her. ‘I know you want to go home.’ His voice softened. ‘I’m sorry I can’t let you go in now. But if any of your household have returned while you’ve been gone, your welcoming party will most likely be the death of me.’
Desire was shocked to realise he was right. She had forgotten that he was an escaped prisoner. She stared at him, torn between conflicting impulses. She wanted to go home, but it wasn’t safe for Jakob to go into Godwin House.
‘You need not come in with me,’ she said. As soon as the words left her mouth she felt her happy mood dim. If she left Jakob at the watergate, she would most likely never see him again. Arscott and the rest of her household would be able to protect her from any future attempts to abduct her.
She wished now that she’d behaved differently on the journey back to London. Ever since Kilverdale had crashed into the bedchamber, she’d been distracted by past hurts and injustices. But she should have spent the little time she had left with Jakob talking about more agreeable subjects, rather than ranting about the Duke. It wasn’t Jakob’s fault he had an arrogant, cruel-tongued cousin. Jakob was the only attractive, truly likeable young man she’d ever met. He’d kissed her and she didn’t know why, and now she probably never would. It was very disheartening.
He’d released her once she stopped struggling. She transferred the key into her left hand and held out her right to him.
‘Thank you for rescuing me from the roof,’ she said, forcing herself to smile, trying to pretend she didn’t care she’d never see him again. ‘There’s no need for you to come any further with me. I’ll be quite safe now. As soon as possible I will withdraw my allegations against you. Although I believe you should also ask Lord Swiftbourne to make sure everything is sorted out satisfactorily,’ she added. ‘I’m not quite sure what will be involved.’
Jakob took the hand she offered. After a few seconds she tried to reclaim it, but he wouldn’t release her. Her heartbeat quickened, even as she stared at him in confusion.
He glanced upwards into the smoke-filled sky, as if seeking patience, then grinned at her. ‘Do you really believe I’d let you wander around unescorted at such a time?’ he asked.
‘What?’ She tugged on her hand, but he didn’t let go. It dawned on her that he still intended to drag her wherever he wanted, without the slightest regard for her expressed wishes. She suddenly felt a lot more cheerful, even though her opinion of him underwent a rapid transformation. He wasn’t likeable and charming at all. His arrogance was intolerable.
‘So where are you taking me now, little dunghill king?’ she demanded, lifting her chin. ‘I’m not going back to Putney.’
‘I thought I’d introduce you to one or two more of my relatives,’ Jakob said. ‘My grandfather has a house in St Martin’s Lane, not far from here.’
‘Why didn’t you take me there yesterday?’ Desire let him lead her back down the steps to the waiting wherry.
‘I didn’t know if he would be there. Besides, I thought it was best to get as far away from the fire as possible.’ Jakob steadied her as she climbed into the boat.
‘Oh. That makes sense, I suppose.’ Desire brushed her hands over her tearstained cheeks in the only preparation possible before her arrival at Lord Swiftbourne’s house.
‘Colonel Balston, you’re safe!’ Lord Swiftbourne’s steward clasped his hands together almost as if he was praying with gratitude for Jakob’s safe delivery from the fire. ‘His lordship has been so worried about you.’
Desire glanced up at Jakob and saw an unmistakable gleam of scepticism in his eyes before he masked it behind a cheerful response to the steward’s anxious enquiries.
‘His lordship has gone to see the King. He isn’t here, but Mrs Quenell and Lord Halross are in the small parlour,’ the steward said. ‘I’ll take you to them. Mrs Quenell will be so pleased to see you.’
For the first few minutes the steward was too preoccupied with Jakob to pay much attention to Desire. The news of their arrival had sped quickly through the house and she became aware of curious eyes staring at her and Jakob from various discreet shadows around the hall.
Lord Swiftbourne’s heir was naturally of interest to members of his household. One day Jakob would be master here. Desire resisted the urge to seek the protection of the shadows herself. Her natural instinct was always to manoeuvre so that the unblemished side of her face would be closest to any companion. She had done so walking into the house with Jakob, when she had kept her smooth cheek towards him, but now her action left her scars fully exposed to the gaze of strangers. It took all her self-control not to sidle around Jakob so that his large frame provided a shield from unkind watchers. She kept her hands by her sides and forced her expression to remain impassive, trying to pretend that she was listening with polite interest to the steward’s conversation with Jakob.
But the steward quickly recovered his poise and turned towards her, casting a discreetly questioning glance at Jakob as he did so. It was almost a repeat of the moment when Kilverdale had belatedly remembered her presence, except that the steward had never met her before and her scars and ill-fitting clothes were the only reason his eyes widened in shock. Desire returned the steward’s scrutiny with as much serenity as she could muster.
‘Her ladyship has been put out of her home by the fire,’ said Jakob.
In the midst of her discomfiture Desire realised that, once again, he had avoided identifying her.
‘I was sure my grandfather would grant her temporary sanctuary,’ Jakob continued.
‘Oh, indeed, sir.’ The steward redirected his gaze from Desire’s scars to her eyes. ‘I know his lordship would wish me to welcome you, my lady. Lord Halross has lost his home too.’
Desire was just about to say her home hadn’t been lost when the steward said, ‘He blew it up with gunpowder to make a firebreak. Such a noble, generous action. If only more people had been willing to make the same sacrifice days ago, perhaps we wouldn’t be facing such a disaster.’
Desire closed her mouth again. It had never once occurred to her to destroy Godwin House to protect other people’s houses. Whoever Lord Halross was, he’d already earned her respect.
‘Mrs Quenell and Lord Halross are in the small parlour,’ said the steward. ‘I’ll take you to them.’
A few moments later he opened the door for them. Desire was standing next to the steward and she heard his startled intake of breath. She glanced at him in surprise. He was gazing into the room, a slightly disconcerted expression on his face. Intrigued, Desire edged closer to see what had caught his attention.
There was a gentleman sitting in the window alcove with a lady on his lap. Neither of them had noticed the door open. The gentleman was kissing the lady with single-minded intensity—and the lady had her arms around the gentleman as she kissed him back just as passionately!
Desire’s eyes widened with amazement. She instantly recalled the way Jakob had kissed her. Her body began to tingle at the memory. A moment later she was filled with embarrassment at unintentionally witnessing the couple’s embrace. She averted her gaze and stepped back into the hall. The steward mumbled something incoherent and began to shut the door.
Jakob, however, didn’t seem to suffer from their scruples. He put the steward aside with a firm, though courteous, hand and strolled into the parlour. Desire was scandalised at his indelicacy but, since he was the only person she knew in the house, she was unwilling to be separated from him. She followed him, keeping her gaze resolutely turned away from the couple in the window.
Jakob gave a cough which sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Desire heard a gasp of feminine surprise, followed by a glad exclamation. ‘Jakob!’
She looked around in time to see the lady scramble off the gentleman’s lap and run across the room towards them. Desire just had time to see her becomingly flushed face and her dishevelled blonde hair, before the lady flung her arms around Jakob. He received her warmly, returning her embrace with so much enthusiasm he lifted her off her feet.
Desire stared at them, unable to account for the strange pang she felt at seeing another woman in Jakob’s arms. It was foolish to be so dismayed. She’d always known there must be other women in his life. He was far too handsome and virile to live like a monk. And this lady was as beautiful and fair as Jakob himself. Her hair was only a shade or too darker than his.
Desire finally managed to look away, one hand fussing aimlessly with the fold of her skirt. She suddenly remembered the gentleman the lady had previously been kissing. Her alarmed gaze flew in his direction. He’d risen from the window seat and now he was watching his lady greet Jakob with an odd, but not hostile, expression. When he noticed Desire looking at him he gave her a slightly crooked smile and strolled over to her.
‘For the lack of a more formal introduction, allow me to present myself,’ he said, with a glance of wry amusement towards Jakob and the blonde lady. ‘Halross, at your service, madam.’ He bowed gracefully.
Halross? Desire blinked, then remembered that the steward had said Lord Halross and Mrs Quenell were in the parlour.
‘Lady Desire Godwin,’ she identified herself, too disconcerted to emulate his easy address. ‘I am, I mean,’ she said, then flushed bright red at her gaucheness and dipped her head. She sank into a curtsy to cover her embarrassment. ‘How do you do, my lord?’
‘Very well, thank you. It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Desire. I take it the golden giant my betrothed is petting is Swiftbourne’s prodigal grandson?’
‘Er, yes,’ said Desire. ‘That is, he is Colonel Jakob Balston. Your betrothed?’ she couldn’t help asking.
‘Mrs Athena Quenell,’ Halross said helpfully. ‘Athena is another of Swiftbourne’s grandchildren.’
‘We thought you were in Newgate!’ Athena exclaimed, stepping back from Jakob at last and looking him up and down.
‘I was for a couple of days. Then it burnt down.’
‘And you escaped!’ Athena’s blue eyes lit with excitement. ‘I told you he was too clever to be imprisoned for long,’ she said, turning to Halross.
‘When you weren’t fretting yourself sick with worry,’ he said with affection. ‘My dear, may I introduce you to Lady Desire Godwin.’
‘I am so sorry.’ Athena immediately turned to Desire. ‘I didn’t mean to be so rude. I was just so pleased to see Jakob. We’ve all been so worried about him.’
‘Yes, I…yes, I can imagine,’ said Desire, struggling to maintain her poise. She had been reluctant to come among strangers but, so far, though her scars had drawn curious glances, no one had said or done anything hurtful.
But Athena was the most beautiful woman Desire had ever seen. Her hair was a golden frame around a lovely face. It was clear she’d experienced some of the effects of the fire. Her eyes were slightly red-rimmed from smoke and there were a couple of grazes on her otherwise unblemished fair skin but, like Jakob, her glowing good looks were undimmed by the catastrophe around them.
Desire would have been daunted by the encounter at any time, but finding herself face to face with such feminine perfection when she was dressed in the housekeeper’s too-large clothes she’d slept in all night was almost unendurable. She kept her face carefully blank and forced herself to meet Athena’s eyes. She would never give the other woman the satisfaction of realising she was crying inside.
‘How do you do, Mrs Quenell?’ she said through stiff lips.
‘Oh, you’ve been hurt!’ Athena exclaimed, reaching towards Desire without hesitation.
Somehow Desire found her hand held in a warm clasp. ‘So many buildings have fallen,’ Athena said, touching a hand to a graze on her temple. ‘Were you—oh, no, the scars have healed. You can’t have been hurt in the fire?’ She flushed brightly with obvious embarrassment and glanced away, biting her lip.
Desire tried to pull her hand away, but to her surprise Athena tightened her grip and wouldn’t let her withdraw.
‘I’m sorry, I did not mean to upset you,’ said Athena. ‘I was remembering when Gabriel’s building blew up yesterday. I haven’t been thinking very clearly recently. I am sorry.’
Desire was horribly aware that Lord Halross and Jakob were silently watching her encounter with Athena. She hated being the centre of everyone’s attention. She wanted to jerk her hand away from Athena’s, but pride wouldn’t let her. She forced her cramped, stiff muscles to respond and lifted her head to look at Athena. To her surprise she saw a sheen of tears in the other woman’s beautiful eyes. Desire tensed to resist pity, but she didn’t see pity in Athena’s expression. Desire stumbled to the conclusion that Athena was upset because she was afraid her tactlessness might have hurt Desire’s feelings.
‘It was in the war, during the siege,’ she said, her voice sounding raspy as dry leaves in her ears. ‘The siege of Larksmere House.’
‘Larksmere? I remember,’ said Halross. He moved behind Athena and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘That must be more than twenty years ago now. I was a child—as you must have been, my lady—but I remember the stories of your mother’s gallant defence.’ He smiled, but his eyes were grave. ‘The wars and their aftermath cast long shadows upon us all,’ he said. ‘Let us hope there will be no more such conflicts.’
‘I hope not,’ Desire whispered. She shivered at the memory of the long-ago bombardment of her house, and then noticed that Jakob had put his hand on her arm.
‘Let us all sit down,’ he said. ‘And perhaps—we left Putney in such haste this morning there was barely time to draw breath—perhaps we could have something to eat?’ He looked hopefully at Athena.
‘Of course. I will give the order at once.’ She went quickly to the door to relay the command. ‘Putney?’ she said, coming back. ‘What were you doing in Putney?’
While they ate, Jakob gave a brief account of what had happened to him and Desire. His description of meeting Potticary in the Dover inn tallied exactly with the story he’d told Desire, but she noticed he touched only briefly on their visit to Kilverdale’s house, simply mentioning they’d spent the night there and that he’d had a short conversation with the Duke before he’d escorted Desire back to London.
‘Lady Desire was anxious about the fate of her house,’ he concluded. ‘But as soon as we saw it was still standing we came here.’
‘I’m glad you saw Kilverdale,’ said Athena. ‘He was so worried about you yesterday. My lady, I am sorry you’ve had such a frightening time. I have been thinking—I hope you will not consider the offer impertinent—that perhaps you might like to try on one of my gowns?’ She smiled at Desire. ‘We are much of a size. I’m sure it will fit you better than the housekeeper’s clothes.’
‘I…thank you, that is very kind of you,’ Desire stammered. Athena’s offer made her feel a bit uncomfortable, but she could see nothing but friendliness in the other woman’s expression. ‘Yes, I would like that,’ she said more confidently.
‘In a little while. I wish to speak to you first, my lady,’ Jakob said, setting aside his plate.
‘To speak to me?’ Desire looked at him. There was an unusually serious expression in Jakob’s eyes, and he had spoken in a far more formal tone than usual. Her breath skittered in her throat. What did he want to say to her than he hadn’t already said?
‘When you’re ready, send a footman to find me,’ said Athena.
Desire nodded and even managed to smile, but most of her attention was on Jakob as he waited for the others to leave the room. She had been alone with him more often than not in the course of the past twenty-four hours, but when Halross and Athena left she suddenly felt shy and self-conscious in his presence. Why did he want to speak to her now? Was it about the fact they’d spent the night together and Kilverdale had seen them?
She played nervously with the folds of her skirt. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She knew the events of the last day and night had compromised her virtue. She’d always known that to be the case, but it was only as she heard Jakob carefully editing their story for Athena and Lord Halross that she realised how serious the situation was. Would Jakob feel obliged to salvage her reputation with an honourable proposal of marriage? Or did he see it as an opportunity to gain an heiress for his bride? He did seem to like kissing her, which was more than she’d come to hope for in a husband, but was that enough on which to base a marriage?
If her father had arranged for her to marry Jakob six years ago, she would have been pleased at the choice of bridegroom. But now she was wary, unwilling to risk her happiness and independence on such a short acquaintance. Her horror of being tied to an unwilling bridegroom ran very deep, and she had lived apart from the world for so long that, even if the world did decide she was a fallen woman because she’d spent the night beside Jakob, she couldn’t see how that would make any difference to her life.
Butterflies danced in her stomach as she tried to settle on a suitable reply to him. She decided she would not say either ‘yes’ or ‘no’, but would ask for more time so that they could get to know each other better. She would tell him that he was handsome and charming and she thought he would make a very good husband, but that she didn’t want to make a hasty decision in the midst of such chaos. He surely couldn’t take offence at such a flattering but practical response? Her decision made to her own satisfaction, she lifted her gaze to look at him as she awaited his proposal.
She discovered he was studying her thoughtfully, a small frown creasing his forehead. She considered the frown a rather uncomplimentary prelude to a marriage proposal. When his expression grew even more sombre a spurt of indignation brought her to her feet. If it was this much effort for him to make his proposal, she didn’t want to hear it.
‘Since you don’t have anything important to say,’ she began, ‘I will—’
‘Sit down!’
She was so surprised at his clipped order that she did. It was easy to imagine him speaking in just such a tone to his officers and men. But she was not a soldier and did not have to endure such treatment. She was just about to say so when he said:
‘Tell me about your betrothal to Arscott.’
‘What?’ She had completely forgotten about her mythical engagement to the steward. She had no intention of marrying Arscott, but perhaps she could use the false betrothal to avert a proposal from Jakob. Despite her common-sense resolve to ask for more time, she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength of will not to say ‘yes’ immediately if he put the question to her directly. He was kind, handsome, virile. She was sure he would give her beautiful babies—the thought made her blush. It was hard to be sensible when she knew this might be the only offer she would ever receive.
‘För bövelen! You are besotted by the man. Just the thought of him makes you blush!’
‘What?’ Desire touched her hands to her hot cheeks. ‘Oh, you are a halfwit!’ she exclaimed, angry with him because it was his fault her mind was full of scandalous images.
She jumped up and walked over to the window, hoping she might feel cooler, if not calmer, next to the glass panes.
‘Does that mean you are not besotted by him?’ Jakob followed her. She was aware of his large form crowding close behind her back, overwhelming her senses with his forceful presence.
‘I am not besotted by any man. You think too much of yourself!’ She didn’t dare turn to face him. She would find herself almost breast to breast with him, and that would certainly be a mistake. She tried to calm her racing pulse. It was ridiculous to allow Jakob to affect her so powerfully.
‘I think too much of myself?’ he repeated thoughtfully. She could almost hear the dawning male satisfaction in his voice as he considered her hasty words. ‘Were you thinking of me a moment ago, älskling?’ he asked. ‘Is it the thought of my kiss that makes you blush?’
‘Of course not!’ Desire sat down on the window seat with a billow of brown wool. She turned her head and tried to look as if she was deeply interested in the view. Ash coated everything in sight. As she watched a fragment of charred paper, its edges black and curled, floated delicately down to earth. The small part of Desire’s mind that was not filled with thoughts of Jakob prayed for rain to extinguish the fire still burning over London.
He sat down next to her, hooking one knee up on the seat so he could turn to face her directly. Now her knee nearly touched his ankle. He had an infuriating way of filling the space around him until she felt invaded by his person, even when he wasn’t actually touching her.
And when he did touch her hand with his fingertips, she felt tingles of excited awareness in every fibre of her body. Despite her efforts to remain aloof, her gaze flew to his face.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘Now is not the moment to tease you. This is too important. Did you and Arscott ever discuss marriage before the attempt to take you from your roof on Saturday?’
The question disorientated Desire. She didn’t understand why he was making such an issue of her supposed betrothal. Even if her betrothal to Arscott were genuine, surely the heir to an earldom had little to fear from the competition of a steward? Especially when Jakob was so arrogantly sure of his own appeal.
‘Desire?’ he persisted.
‘No,’ she said, since he seemed determined to get an answer from her. ‘Though I cannot see what business it is of yours.’
He took her hand in his. She felt the warmth of his fingers even through the linen bandage that still encased them. Excitement fluttered in her stomach. Arscott had taken her hand in his just before he asked her to marry him. Was this how men usually went about proposing?
‘Did Arscott use what had happened—the attack on you—as a reason why you should marry him?’ Jakob asked.
‘He said that under other circumstances he wouldn’t have presumed, but it was the best way to keep me safe,’ she said impatiently. ‘Have we finished talking about Arscott now?’
‘So then you agreed to marry him?’ Jakob’s voice was unreadable.
‘No, I didn’t!’ said Desire, with a flare of annoyance. She drew her hand away from Jakob’s. Even Arscott hadn’t prefaced his proposal with an interrogation. ‘I said I’d think about it.’
‘And you decided to say yes?’
‘If you must know, I can’t abide the notion of marrying Arscott!’ she said, thoroughly provoked. ‘But I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I thought it best to refuse him by easy stages.’
‘You can’t abide the thought of marrying him!’ Jakob exclaimed.
‘It makes me shudder to think of it!’ Desire glared at him. ‘But he has served my family loyally all his life, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.’
‘You have a generous heart.’ Jakob took her hand again.
Desire held her breath. Now that he’d got all the possible hindrances out of the way, was he finally going to ask her to marry him? Even Arscott had got to the point more swiftly.
‘Well, get on with it,’ she said, too nervous to even pretend to wait patiently for his next question.
‘Get on with what?’ Jakob looked startled.
‘Whatever you want to say!’
‘Did Arscott ever drop hints about marrying you before Saturday?’ Jakob asked.
‘Why on earth do you keeping talking about Arscott?’ Desire exploded.
‘Because I believe he is the man who ordered Potticary to abduct you.’
Jakob’s words dropped like stones in the sudden silence that filled the parlour. Desire stared at him, struggling to make sense of what he’d just said. It was so far from what she was expecting to hear that for several moments she didn’t understand.
He tightened his grip on her hand. His blue eyes were grave and compassionate as he waited for her to speak.
The compassion was too close to pity. For a few seconds that hurt Desire more than anything else. What a fool she was. Jakob hadn’t been building up to a marriage proposal, but to make a ridiculous accusation against Arscott. He’d probably never even considered marrying her. Even Jakob could not be willing to make that sacrifice. To marry an ageing, ugly woman—she remembered Kilverdale’s words of only a few hours ago—just to salvage her reputation.
She dragged her hand away from him and stood up. Her knees felt shaky, but she walked away with a fair pretense of composure.
‘That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,’ she said over her shoulder. Her voice sounded brittle. She hoped Jakob didn’t notice. ‘Arscott defended me from all of you.’
‘Yes, he did,’ said Jakob. ‘But the attack gave you such a fright that he had a good reason to persuade you to marry him.’
‘I didn’t say yes.’
‘But had you ever given him any reason to suppose you might refuse him?’
Desire folded her arms across her chest and stared at the floor.
‘My lady?’
‘How can I answer that? He’s my steward. I never even considered marrying him before Saturday. It certainly didn’t occur to me to drop hints his suit wouldn’t be welcome!’
She spun round to face Jakob, just in time to catch him suppress a quick smile at her hasty words.
‘Don’t stand there smirking!’ She was angry and hurt by his reaction. ‘This is not a laughing matter.’
‘I know.’ His expression sobered. ‘My lady, why have you stayed shut up in your house for the past six years?’
‘I don’t want to discuss it.’ She turned away from him again, instinctively favouring her scarred cheek.
‘What Kilverdale said was cruel,’ Jakob said quietly. ‘But he was not the only eligible man in England. Why didn’t your father arrange another match?’
‘That’s none of your business.’
‘My lady?’ he persisted.
‘I begged him not to, at least not at once,’ she said, after a short silence. ‘And then he fell ill. He died soon after and the guardian he appointed for me died a few months later.’
‘But that would have been how long ago? Three years? Four years?’
‘Five years since Father died,’ she whispered.
‘And you’ve remained behind the walls of your house ever since?’
‘Arscott told me—’ She broke off.
‘What did he tell you?’
‘He told me that I would be at constant risk from fortune hunters if I went out.’ She paused, thinking about what she’d just said. She was still upset that she’d been so devastatingly wrong in what she’d expected Jakob to say to her, but she was finally able to focus on what he had said.
‘Arscott told me about Lord Rochester’s attempt to abduct an heiress,’ she said slowly, for the first time wondering about the steward’s motives in discouraging all her aspirations to venture out into the world. ‘He said that would happen to me if I didn’t do everything I could to avoid the notice of society.’
She heard Jakob release a long, slow breath and closed her eyes, as if by doing so she could also close her mind to the doubts that now stole into it.
‘Did he also encourage you to believe that all people would be unkind about your scars?’ Jakob asked gently.
Desire swallowed. She felt tears trying to seep from beneath her tightly closed eyes. Had Arscott done that? Or had it been her own fears that had kept her safely locked away from the world? She didn’t know for sure.
‘He said Kilverdale was typical of young men,’ she said unsteadily.
‘Not that typical,’ said Jakob, a dry note in his voice. ‘For both good and ill, Kilverdale is far from typical. I believe Arscott deliberately tried to keep you shut away from the world so you would become completely dependent upon him.’
‘Perhaps.’ Desire rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes.
She thought about her many conversations with Arscott. Comments he’d made that had once seemed quite innocent now took on a shocking new interpretation. On more than one occasion he’d talked about the merits of an older husband—he was nine years her senior. Sometimes he’d talked delicately, but unmistakably, about the loneliness of a woman who had no husband. He’d made certain small gestures—nothing as blatant as taking her hand, as he had done on Saturday—which might have been overtures of courtship. Had she, in her lack of experience and total lack of attraction to Arscott, missed the fact he was trying to win, or at least manipulate, her affections?
‘Here.’ Jakob offered her a snowy, lace-edged handkerchief. She noticed the elaborate K in the corner and almost defiantly blew her nose.
‘I don’t suppose anything you are wearing belongs to you,’ she said.
‘Only my money belt,’ he replied cheerfully.
‘But if Arscott hired Potticary to abduct me, why did he shoot him?’
‘So there would be no witnesses to accuse him of the crime,’ said Jakob. ‘Arscott didn’t want the abduction to succeed. He only wanted it to frighten you into his arms.’
Desire shuddered at the idea. A part of her thought: he got frustrated because I didn’t respond to his subtle courtship. But then she rebelled against the dreadful suspicion.
‘That’s absurd. Unthinkable!’ she said vehemently. ‘No one would plot the coldblooded murder of two men just so he could marry me.’
Jakob didn’t say anything.
‘Not me, my fortune,’ she whispered, after a moment. ‘Men kill every day for a lot less than I am worth.’
‘Do you believe Arscott could be capable of such a scheme?’ Jakob asked.
‘No,’ she said, but she remembered occasions when she’d heard the older members of her household discussing Arscott’s activities during the Larksmere siege. And it was only days ago since he had killed two men without apparent remorse.
‘This is all nonsense,’ she said. She couldn’t bear the idea that she had been misled and betrayed by someone she’d trusted all her life. ‘You have a suspicious imagination, but I am sure Arscott did not order my abduction.’
‘The matter needs further investigation,’ said Jakob. ‘I know it has been a cruel shock to you. We can talk about what we do next when you’ve had a little time to think about it and—’
‘Think?’ Desire pressed her fingers to her temples. ‘Wait! You haven’t produced one piece of evidence that Arscott ordered my abduction. In fact, you told me last night you didn’t know. What have you to say to that?’ She stared at him challengingly. Had he thought she wouldn’t notice the inconsistency?
‘I said Potticary didn’t tell me who hired him,’ he reminded her. ‘He did say a couple of things that gave me clues to the man’s identity. Unfortunately they didn’t mean anything until after Potticary was already dead. And yesterday you were declaring your intention to wed Arscott so fervently, and you were determined to escape me and run to him, that I didn’t think it was wise to mention my suspicions.’
‘Your suspicions based on your wounded pride because you were bested by Arscott on the roof,’ she accused him.
‘I was bested by you, not Arscott, and my pride is not wounded because I was too honourable to overpower you,’ he retorted.
‘I would have shot you!’ Desire was incensed by his arrogance.
‘You would have fired the pistol,’ he agreed. ‘Nevertheless, if I’d meant to seize you, I would have done so.’
‘You are so cocksure!’ But when she remembered how frightened she’d been, and the mistake she’d made when she’d taken her eyes off Jakob to look at Arscott, she knew he was probably right. If he’d wanted to seize her, perhaps hold her hostage to force her household to let him escape, he could have done so.
‘Now you are trying to distract me,’ she said. ‘You still haven’t offered any proof that Arscott is guilty.’
‘Potticary didn’t tell me who hired him,’ Jakob said, ‘but he did mention several times that we had allies within your household. On the way to Godwin House he said “Arscott says we’ll find her on the roof.” I didn’t know who Arscott was then. On another, earlier, occasion, when he’d had a few mugs of wine, he said, “I’ll be going up in the world soon. Walter won’t forget his old friend.” What’s Arscott’s Christian name, my lady?’
‘Walter,’ Desire whispered. ‘Oh, my God.’ She covered her face with her hands.
Her insidious doubts about Arscott suddenly grew to overwhelming proportions. She remembered the shot that had killed Potticary. The awful sight of the other man lying across her path with a broken neck. It had been only minutes later that Arscott had taken her hand in his hand. The hand with which he had just killed two men.
She shuddered. A wave of nausea swept over her and she pressed her fingers to her lips.
She was dimly aware of Jakob guiding her to sit in the nearest chair. She sank down on to it and took several deep breaths. After a few moments she opened her eyes to see Jakob on his knees beside her, watching her with unmistakable concern in his eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Älskling, if there had been a way to spare you the news of such betrayal, I would have taken it.’
‘No,’ she said. Her voice rasped hardly above a whisper.
Two men had now knelt before her in less than a week. And neither of them had said what she’d expected them to say. She’d never for a second anticipated Arscott would propose to her. She’d been halfway convinced that Jakob was about to do so, and now it was clear marriage couldn’t be further from his mind.
She suppressed a bubble of slightly hysterical laughter, wishing she could impose some order on her thoughts.
‘Arscott must be questioned,’ she said, latching on to one certainty amid so many doubts. ‘I will not permit him to be accused, without the chance to defend himself.’
God forgive her for suspecting her steward of anything so vile. Perhaps it was only the shattering events of the past few days that made it so easy to believe he could be guilty. She hoped it was so.
‘Of course not,’ said Jakob. ‘There is a great deal to be done, and many decisions for you to make. But you don’t need to make them at once. There isn’t much we can do until Swiftbourne returns.’
‘I wish I was at home,’ she said, hardly noticing what Jakob said.
‘It’s not safe,’ he replied. ‘I’m sorry, älskling.’
‘Don’t call me that!’ Desire didn’t know exactly what the word meant, but she was sure it was something akin to ‘sweetheart’. It seemed a terrible mockery of all her earlier jumbled fears and expectations that Jakob was on his knees, calling her sweetheart—while accusing one of her most trusted servants of dreadful crimes. She turned her head aside, avoiding his compassionate gaze.
‘Get up,’ she said. ‘How long do you intend to keep me here for my own safety?’ she asked grittily.
‘You are not a prisoner,’ Jakob said.
‘You mean you’d let me walk out right now?’ She made no effort to hide her scepticism.
‘If you leave, I’ll have to go with you,’ he replied. ‘But even the honest members of your household are more likely to shoot me than thank me for saving you from the fire. In their eyes I am an escaped prisoner.’
‘Then what am I to do?’ she asked, confused and frustrated by the situation.
‘We’ll wait until Lord Swiftbourne returns,’ Jakob replied. ‘He will be glad to see that his heir has escaped damage—’ Jakob’s lips twisted in a humourless smile ‘—and no doubt he will be able to help us deal with Arscott. He has resources not available to lesser men. In the meantime, shall I summon Athena? I’m sure you would be more comfortable in one of her gowns.’