When Dr Lennox had taken his leave of them Adeline moved to stand close to Grant. His dark head was slightly bent as he contemplated the glowing embers in the hearth, his foot upon the fender. Beneath his coat his muscles flexed as he withdrew his right hand from his pocket and shoved his fingers through his hair—which, as Adeline had discovered, had an inclination to curl when he combed his fingers through its brushed smoothness.
‘Would you like to go up and see Lettie now?’ she asked softly.
Grant turned and looked at her, fear tightening his eyes. He nodded. ‘Yes, I would.’
When Adeline opened the door to Lettie’s room Emma rose from her seat beside the bed and quietly went out. Along with every other servant in the house she knew something dreadful had happened to Miss Adeline’s friend—how could she not when her arrival, followed so quickly by her brother with a doctor, had caused such a commotion? They were all agog with curiosity, although so far Miss Adeline was saying nothing. But Emma, more worldly than her mistress, was no fool, and, having undressed Miss Leighton and seen the state she was in, had already reached her own conclusions.
Grant moved towards the bed. The tightly huddled woman, impervious to everything that was going on around her, did not resemble his sister. He would have said so, but the hair draped over the pillow, the familiar curve of her cheek, brought back memories of the vital, laughing face. Her eyes were tightly closed, the lashes forming shadowed crescents on her cheeks. She lay in a stupor partly induced by the heavy draught of laudanum Howard had administered.
Bending over, he gently touched her cheek. ‘How did she come to this?’ he murmured. ‘I blame myself. I should have made more of an effort to see her.’
‘It’s too late to worry about that now,’ Adeline whispered, silently wishing he had. If so this wretched catastrophe might have been averted. ‘What’s done is done.’
Standing upright, Grant moved away from the bed and turned his gaze to Adeline’s face. If he hadn’t been so anxious about Lettie he would have smiled as he wondered how Adeline had come by her prim and practical streak. Although there was nothing prim about those full, soft, generous lips and the compassionate, caring look in her green eyes, looking darker than usual in the dimmed gaslight.
‘Dr Lennox gave Lettie some laudanum to rest her, and some other medication,’ Adeline told him. ‘She should sleep for a while. I’ll ask Emma to sit with her, and when she goes to bed I’ll stay with Lettie. I cannot rest while she is so ill.’ She looked at Grant. ‘Will you stay?’
‘I’d very much like to.’
‘Then I’ll have a room prepared.’
‘That won’t be necessary. Sleep is the last thing on my mind right now.’
‘Then we’ll watch over her together.’
Leaving Emma to sit with Lettie a while longer, they returned to the drawing room. Without saying a word, with his hands shoved into his trouser pockets and his eyes hardened into slits of concentration, Grant stood staring into the hearth, listening to the sharp tick of the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece and watching the flames of the rejuvenated fire licking and dancing. He wasn’t aware of Adeline standing close until he felt the pressure of her hand on his arm. Turning, he saw her eyes were anxious and suffering.
‘When Lettie arrived here tonight, did she say much to you?’
‘No. She was in no fit state. What will you do?’ she asked quietly.
‘I am a shrewd man, Adeline. All my business life I have looked men straight in the eye as they tried to convince me that black is white and vice versa. And though Cunningham is a clever and devious black-hearted villain, it will take a better man than him to hurt any of mine.’
‘Are you saying you are looking for vengeance?’
‘You’re damn right I am. If that bastard thinks he can get away with near murder he’s damn well mistaken.’
‘You can’t,’ Adeline whispered. ‘One thing Lettie did tell me is that what she did was her decision alone. He wanted the baby—and I suspect he has no idea what she has done.’
Grant was incredulous. ‘Dear God, Adeline—are you saying that Lettie aborted her own child?’
‘Yes. I—I don’t know what Jack Cunningham has done to Lettie—it must be something quite dreadful to have made her want to do what she did—but all of a sudden she hates him with an intensity I was shocked to see.’
‘If he’s laid one finger on my sister in violence I swear I’ll kill him. I might do that anyway.’
‘Don’t you see, Grant? Vengeance is a private sin to repair damaged pride. Try not to reduce this to a question of marksmanship. Lettie wouldn’t want you to do that. Aside from the fact that the crime has been committed by the doctor who—who—did what he did, and Jack Cunningham for getting her pregnant, there is only one other person who is responsible for Lettie being in the situation she is.’
His shoulders tensed, Grant turned his head slowly and looked at her for a long time. ‘Who?’
‘Lettie herself.’ Adeline stopped short, seeing those silver-grey eyes flare. Then she went on firmly. ‘She went with Jack Cunningham of her own free will. She found him terribly exciting and fun to be with, and she was attracted to him from the start—she admitted as much to me. It’s just one of the realities of human nature, I suppose.’
‘You and Lettie must have had some interesting conversations,’ Grant retorted, unable to calm his anger.
‘We have. Plenty. That particular snare—sexual attraction—has kept the human race alive since time immemorial, so Lettie cannot be condemned for that. She probably loved Jack Cunningham in her own way—misplaced as that love was. She told me he had proposed marriage and she’d refused. The decision to abort her baby was hers.’
Grant’s eyes glittered like glass. ‘Are you telling me I should simply let that low-down bastard off scot-free?’
Adeline swallowed hard as she courageously faced him, seeing the rage and the steel inside him. ‘Yes. I think you should consider long and hard before you tear open issues of which you do not know the nature or the extent.’
‘I do not think you appreciate the gravity of the situation, Adeline. This is not some Society parlour game. Lettie’s wellbeing is at stake. Cunningham deserves no such consideration.’
‘It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you don’t create a scandal over this that will sink Lettie for ever.’ The way Grant was looking at her sent a chill of fear through her. But she went on bravely. ‘Dr Lennox doesn’t think Lettie is going to die, Grant.’ She looked up at him. ‘It is to her mind and heart that the damage lies. You said it would take a better man than Jack Cunningham to hurt any of your family. You would be a bigger and better man if you could put this behind you. As far as Lettie is concerned the whole sorry business is over.’
‘I will not let it pass. I would not be Lettie’s brother if I did that.’
‘What you will tell your mother and everyone else is up to you. But for now Lettie is going to need you. She is going to need both of us over the coming days.’
He nodded, accepting the sense of this. ‘I shall do nothing at all—at least until we know Lettie is out of danger. The less everyone knows about this unsavoury mess the better. But one thing is certain. Cunningham needn’t come looking for her after this.’
‘He will. He still thinks she is with child—his child, don’t forget—in which case he will think he has some claim on her.’
Grant’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her curiously. ‘How can you know so much? I thought you said Lettie was in no fit state to—’ Grant began, and then the enormity of what she had said sank in. He felt the blood draining from his face, and his eyes, full of accusation, slid towards Adeline, trapping her in their burning gaze. ‘You also said the decision to go through with this was hers, so some conversation must have taken place between the two of you when she arrived—a great deal, in fact.’
His gaze raked Adeline’s guilt-stricken face, and she watched in agony as his eyes registered first disbelief and then anger—an anger so deep that all the muscles in his face tightened into a mask of fury.
Adeline stared at him and seemed confused, which further heightened his anger. ‘Grant, let me explain—’
‘You already knew, didn’t you?’ he demanded. ‘You already knew Lettie was pregnant.’ Anger began to gather like a hard ball somewhere in the vicinity of Grant’s stomach. ‘When Lettie recovers I’ll find out the truth from her—but that does not excuse you from not telling me.’
‘It—it was what Lettie wanted. I thought it was for the best at the time—’
‘You thought it was for the best? Since when were you an authority on what is best for Lettie?’ he said, cutting her off, passion making his voice shake. ‘You knew. You knew when we met this morning. We were together a whole hour and you said nothing. You had no right to keep a matter as important as this from me.’
‘I knew, yes—but Lettie had promised me she wouldn’t do anything,’ Adeline said, coming to her own defence. Forcing herself to keep calm, she spoke in a controlled voice. ‘The last forty-eight hours since Lettie told me of her affair with Jack Cunningham haven’t been easy. In fact they have been very difficult indeed. Lettie promised me she would do nothing drastic, Grant, and I believed her.’
‘But she did mention getting rid of it, didn’t she?’
‘Yes—but—’
‘Adeline, don’t you see?’ he flared accusingly, his emotions storming inside him, his composure in shreds. ‘Had I known about any of this I could have stopped her. She wouldn’t be in the state she’s in now.’
‘I don’t believe that. Looking back, I realise that when she came to see me she had already made up her mind to go ahead with it.’
‘And you really believe that, do you? Well, I don’t. Lettie would never have done this appalling thing had she not been forced into it by what Cunningham did to her.’
Adeline had to summon all her patience to stop herself bursting out in a fury. Grant’s inquisitorial, aggressive manner angered her beyond belief. He was playing the part of the injured party a little too well—demanding explanations without the slightest trace of consideration.
‘At least she is safe, and Dr Lennox says she should recover. We must be thankful for that.’
‘Safe, yes—no thanks to you,’ he snapped unfairly.
It was as if he had thrown a bucket of icy water over her. ‘That’s a dreadful thing to say to me, Grant. It isn’t due to me.’
‘The facts speak for themselves, Adeline.’
The injustice of his accusation brought an angry flush to her face and she looked as maddened as him. ‘When Lettie came to me she wanted to confide in someone she could trust. I broke that trust when I sought you out at your hotel after the first time she came to speak to me in confidence. I wasn’t prepared to do that again,’ she told him, throwing back her head indignantly. ‘I did the best I could to prevent Lettie going ahead with aborting her child, and now you storm at me for not telling you. When I left you after our ride, I truly thought you would go and see her—as you said you would—and that she might tell you herself. Clearly you had other matters to attend to that were more important.’
‘That was my intention. But when I returned to the hotel, D—’ He stopped himself from mentioning Diana’s name, knowing how it never failed to kindle Adeline’s ire, but it was too late.
Drawing herself up, Adeline looked at him sharply, knowingly, and nodded. ‘But Diana Waverley turned up?’ she uttered scornfully. ‘Don’t bother to explain, Grant. I’m not interested. If your affair with Diana took precedence over Lettie’s troubles it has got nothing whatsoever to do with me.’
‘God in heaven—there is no affair between Diana and me,’ he gritted coldly.
‘No? You certainly behave as if there is—and anyway, I don’t believe you. Still, how you spend your time is up to you. However, that woman has done enough damage to my life, so kindly refrain from speaking of her again in my presence. Perhaps now you will realise how serious I considered Lettie’s situation to be. I truly thought you would go out of your way to do something about it. I was relying on you—fool that I was.’
‘You still had no right to keep it from me.’
Slowly Adeline moved closer, and her eyes met Grant’s proudly, with a look as cutting as steel. ‘How dare you? How dare you put me in the wrong? How dare you transfer the blame to me to ease your own conscience? That seems a nice, easy way out of a difficult situation—a coward’s way out. I would not have believed it of you, Grant.’
Grant’s tone was haughty, his eyes like shards of ice. He seemed bent on regaining the advantage. ‘I think you’ve said enough. Who do you think you are, to meddle in my family’s affairs?’
‘Lettie’s friend,’ Adeline stated coldly. ‘But since you think I am interfering, then I must admit I am not entertained by your family disputes.’
‘In which case I shall have Lettie removed from this house first thing in the morning.’
‘You are right,’ she flared, her eyes blazing. ‘What happens to Lettie concerns you alone. I shall leave you to decide what to do with her. Do whatever you feel must be done, but remember that it will be against Dr Lennox’s advice. Meanwhile, while she is in this house, I shall tend her. Do you have any objections to that?’
They faced one another, not speaking, their fury bouncing off each other. Adeline thought bitterly that she had never imagined the night would end like this. Her defiance had struck him to the quick of his being. Now they would simply set about destroying each other as ferociously as mortal enemies. Was it for this that she had befriended Lettie when she’d needed her most?
‘I would be grateful,’ he said curtly.
‘Thank you,’ Adeline said, with all the dignity she could muster. ‘And now, since you can do nothing but insult me, and will clearly have no need of my assistance in nursing Lettie after tomorrow, I think you had better leave,’ she said icily. ‘If she should wake and find you like this it will only upset her.’
‘You are right. I have changed my mind about staying the night. I can see Lettie will be in capable hands.’ He crossed to the door, where he turned and looked back at her. There was a deep anger inside him. ‘No matter what it costs, I cannot ignore what Cunningham has done. I do not underestimate his intelligence or his will for a moment, but they are irrelevant. It does not make me reconsider anything—only makes me more resolute. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall be at my hotel if I am needed.’
Adeline watched him go. There was no word of affection, just a cold nod as he closed the door. She stood staring at it for a long time, deeply hurt by what had just occurred. The man was a monster. It was not her fault, what had happened to Lettie, but Grant would never be convinced of this, and the tender feelings that had grown between them when they had fenced and ridden together died as a sudden frost withered a young plant.
Perhaps the kiss he had given her, having won the race, had meant nothing at all—had been nothing more than a pleasure satisfied? Anger stirred once more in Adeline—anger at herself for so readily succumbing to the embrace of this hard, cold man who had invited her love after the aggressive nature of their past encounters.
Drawing herself up proudly, she went to relieve Emma. She, too, could be hard and cold. Grant would never know how much he had hurt her. I won’t let him treat me like that again, she vowed, staring down at his sleeping sister and settling herself into the chair beside the bed. Adeline the vulnerable fool, ready to give her heart to the first man to hold her in his arms and whisper sweet nonsense, had hopefully learned more sense, she told herself, resolutely ignoring the treacherous small voice at the back of her brain that mourned her passing.
Grant didn’t remove Lettie from the house in Eaton Place. When he called the following morning, Adeline sensed that he wanted to get back on the easy footing they had been on before last night, but she was determined not to risk a second rebuff.
Having left Lettie with one of the maids watching over her, tired and not in the best of moods, Adeline had been in the garden, taking a breath of air, when Grant appeared, looking devastatingly handsome in a tweed suit.
Standing on the terrace, he had paused and looked around, searching for her. When he’d seen her, standing against some tall trellising over which pink and white roses clambered in profusion, he strode towards her with that easy, natural elegance already so familiar to her.
Perfectly still, with her hands folded at her waist, she had waited for him to reach her. Ever since she had known this man she had told herself that she was drawn to him because of his compelling good-looks and his powerful masculine magnetism—the strange hold he had over her was merely an ability to awaken those intense sexual hungers within her.
But she realised it was more than that—that was just the tip of an iceberg whose true menace lay in its unfathomable depths. While she had vainly set herself against the carnal forces he inspired in her, something deeper and dangerously enduring was binding them inexorably together. How could she possibly resist him? But resist him she must if she was to have peace of mind.
‘At last I’ve found you,’ he said, taking her arm and drawing her down onto a wooden bench, where they sat facing each other. His eyes complimented her warmly on her appearance—for despite the purple smudges beneath her eyes, in her sky blue dress with a high-necked bodice, she looked fresh and immaculate.
Adeline caught the clean, masculine smell of him. The onslaught on her senses was immediate, and she longed to respond to the pressure of his hand on her arm, to feel his mouth on hers, setting her skin tingling and her blood on fire. But this was the man whom she had decided she would never allow to breach her self-control. The memory of Diana Waverley, with her sly, insolent smile, and the cruel things Grant had said to her last night stood between them.
Her lips curved in a slight smile. ‘So you have, Grant. Have you been up to see Lettie?’
He nodded. ‘Mrs Kelsall kindly let me go up. She’s sleeping, but she does seem a little better.’
‘I think so. Dr Lennox should be along soon. If you still wish to remove her from the house then I think you had better wait until he’s seen her, don’t you?’
‘Adeline, if it’s in Lettie’s best interests that she remains here then I would like her to stay. She couldn’t be in better hands. I know that.’
‘I told you last night, Grant. Lettie can stay here as long as it is necessary.’
‘Thank you. All night I’ve been cursing myself for a fool. I want to apologise for my boorish behaviour, for which I am ashamed. I was cruel and thoughtless and I deserve to be horse-whipped, for I realise I must have left you feeling deeply hurt. I assure you that wounding your feelings was never my intent. I am here not only to see Lettie, but to make amends.’
‘Ashamed, Grant?’ Adeline said brightly, giving him no help. ‘I am certain there is nothing for you to be ashamed of. And isn’t it a little late to withdraw anything you may have said to me last night?’
‘Adeline, please,’ said Grant in a low, rapid tone. ‘I spoke hastily, and you have every right to be angry. I was knocked sideways by what Lettie had done—and when I think that I could have prevented it, had I known—’
‘If I had betrayed Lettie’s confidence and told you? I think that is what you mean, Grant.’
‘I don’t want to argue about that now, Adeline. Last night, when I received your note asking me to come at once and to bring a doctor, I imagined the worst, and my later anger was caused partly by relief yet also by a feeling of having let Lettie down in some way.’
And part sorrow, guilt and rage for having given his time to Diana when he might have been with Lettie, Adeline could have added. She would not give in to the old attraction that was making her heart race and her legs feel drained of strength.
‘I don’t suppose Lettie will see it like that,’ she said, standing up and walking back towards the house.
Looking at her stiff back, and the proud way she held her head, Grant wanted to go after her and shake her. He knew she was playing a part. He believed that behind that bright expression and glib speech the real warm, passionate Adeline was still to be found—only he had lost the key to her. Temporarily, he hoped. Those ill-considered accusations and insults he had thrown at her when he had vented his fury on her had driven the young woman he had come to feel so deeply for underground, had replaced her with this proper, guarded person who carefully kept him at arm’s length.
Getting up and striding after her, he took her arm and jerked her round to face him. ‘Adeline, I am truly sorry. I shall not be happy until you tell me you forgive me.’ He smiled crookedly at her, willing her to respond as she had in the park.
But there was no answering spark in her eyes as she answered abstractedly, ‘Set your mind at rest, Grant,’ she said with a brittle laugh. ‘For my memory of last night is extremely hazy, and I really cannot recall all that you said to me. There is not the least need to apologise, so please, let us not speak of it again. Now, let us go in and await Dr Lennox.’
It took another twenty-four hours for Lettie’s temperature to subside, and then she emerged from her nightmare world.
Dr Lennox visited her twice daily and said she was making swift improvement. Grant visited every day. Lettie was tearful when she saw him, and deeply ashamed that he should know of the terrible thing she had done. She expected him to be furious, to verbally chastise her, but to his credit he issued no recriminations, merely took his sister in his arms and held her, and gave her no word of censure. Adeline was relieved.
Grant called on Lord and Lady Stanfield to explain that Lettie had taken a severe chill and would remain at Eaton Place with Adeline. When asked if they could visit, he politely told them he would let them know when she was feeling up to receiving visitors.
Once the tide had turned, Lettie made rapid strides towards recovery. Luckily she was blessed with a remarkably vigorous constitution. After three days she was able to leave her bed and sit in a chair by the window, and on the fourth day she was able to go downstairs and sit out in the garden. But her face looked drawn and thinner, and there was a haunted look in her eyes. Still she had not spoken of what had turned her against Jack Cunningham, and Adeline had not tried to draw it out of her, believing she would speak of it when she felt ready.
Later she was in the drawing room, her face transparently pale, her shoulders draped in an ermine wrap. Sitting beside her, Adeline took her hand and held it. For the time being they were alone, but they were expecting Lady Stanfield and Marjorie at any minute, and Grant had said he would look in.
‘I hope you are feeling up to visitors, Lettie.’
Lettie stared at her, her eyes bleak with the kind of self-knowledge she could neither accept nor pardon. ‘Yes, I am looking forward to seeing them. But I do not feel brave enough in my afflicted state to return to Stanfield House and endure the inquisitive glances and questions of the many people I will come into contact with. In a few days’ time I have decided to go home to Newhill Lodge—and Mother. I have to get away from London—from Jack.’
‘I think that’s a good idea, Lettie. I know Grant is to go to France in three days’ time, so he will be unable to go with you. But Emma will accompany you.’
Lettie looked at her with eyes that were opaque, awash with tears. Her suffering was real, and a familiar look of distress crossed her face. ‘That’s very kind of you, Adeline. If you can spare her I would be most grateful. Besides, she knows what I’ve done, and she has not judged me as others would.’
‘Emma can be trusted, Lettie. You can rely on her discretion.’
‘You’ve been so good to me. I don’t deserve it. I—I think I will tell my mother what I have done. I don’t know how, but I will. I cannot keep such a secret from her. I just hope she will understand. It is my vanity, my wilfulness and my immorality that has brought about this mess. I’m not proud of myself, Adeline,’ she whispered. ‘What I did was wrong—some may call it wicked. I thought I was doing the right thing—but I feel mutilated.’
‘And Jack Cunningham?’
Lettie’s eyes clouded with pain and she looked away. ‘I never want to see him again. I hate him, Adeline. People say time heals all wounds. I can only hope they’re right.’
Grant was the first to arrive. He strode in and gave his sister an affectionate hug before turning his attention to Adeline, who greeted him with a cool nod. He frowned. There was a quietness in her now, a restraint when they were together, and he was acutely aware of it. Adeline Osborne had become in his sight a woman as alluring and desirable as any he had ever known, and even though she rebuffed him at every turn he wanted her. She had become a challenge—a beautiful, vibrant, adorable challenge—a passion.
Lady Stanfield and Marjorie entered the house like a summer breeze, their presence creating an atmosphere of freshness and vitality that was badly needed. They were concerned that Lettie had been so ill, and glad she was beginning to feel better.
Marjorie, full of excitement over her engagement party two days hence, was disappointed when Lettie told her she did not feel well enough to attend. The truth was that she couldn’t face it and, knowing this, Adeline did not join Marjorie in trying to persuade her.
Defeated, Marjorie sighed and looked at Adeline. ‘You’ll still come, won’t you, Adeline? You have to. I must have at least one of my friends there.’
‘Of course Adeline will come,’ Lettie was quick to reassure her. ‘I don’t see why she should forgo your party because of me.’
Suddenly a scheming gleam entered her eyes, making her look more like her old self as her gaze slid to her brother, leaning idly against the window with his arms crossed over his chest. She smiled inwardly, not having forgotten her intention to try and bring Grant and Adeline together.
‘In fact, I think Grant should escort her. After all, it’s important that at least one member of the Leighton family be there to represent us—and as you know, Mother is unable to get to town just now, so that leaves Grant.’ Her look became one of pure, unadulterated innocence as she fixed her eyes on her brother. ‘You have no other engagement that night, have you, Grant?’
Her suggestion brought startled glances from both Adeline and Grant. Adeline was not at all in agreement, but one look at Grant and she sensed his absolute and unquestioning co-operation. A lazy smile curved his lips and his eyes gleamed wickedly.
‘Nothing that can’t be put off, Lettie. I shall be delighted to escort Adeline to the party.’
Grant’s ready acceptance brought everyone’s instant attention. Adeline stared at him blankly. There was something subtle in the way his smile had changed that made her uneasy. Her mouth opened and closed again.
‘Ooh, that would be lovely,’ Marjorie enthused happily.
‘Absolutely,’ Lady Stanfield agreed.
‘It’s very good of you, Grant, but I don’t need an escort,’ Adeline remarked, tossing him a vengeful glance.
‘Yes, you do,’ Grant countered smoothly, enjoying every minute of her discomfort.
‘Of course you do,’ Lettie agreed.
‘And I would so like Grant to be there,’ Marjorie said.
Adeline looked from one to the other, unable to believe she had been so easily manoeuvred into a situation she would rather have avoided. Grant was looking at her in tranquil, amused silence, but she noticed there was an infuriating arrogance about the man’s smile, and even in the way he was lounging against the wall.
Grant saw her features tighten, and he recognised the ominous glitter in those narrowed green eyes. ‘Am I to take your silence for acceptance?’ he asked, knowing perfectly well that she couldn’t object to him being her escort when everyone else was in favour.
‘Don’t you think it will raise speculation about us if we arrive together?’
A slow grin came with his answer. ‘You seem to forget that the party is being thrown by Lord and Lady Stanfield in a very unconventional household where that sort of thing doesn’t count. Besides, I never thought I would see the day when you were conscious of propriety. I think both of us have laid waste to all the usual conventions—especially among certain elements of society where they count for so much.’
Knowing that to argue further would draw everyone’s curious attention, she merely glowered at him. He really was the most provoking man she had ever met. She knew what he was about, and that he would go to any lengths to make another conquest, but, as his prey, she was just as determined to make it difficult for him. He intended to seduce her, and nothing was going to deter him from trying.
For her sake, the sooner he was across the Channel in France the better.
It was late afternoon when the door bell rang. Mrs Kelsall answered it, and a moment later came upstairs to tell Adeline that a Mr Cunningham wished to speak to Miss Leighton.
Adeline rose from her dressing table, straightened her skirt, reached up automatically to make sure her hair was tidy, and walked towards Mrs Kelsall.
‘Show him into the drawing room, Mrs Kelsall. I’ll see what he wants. Please don’t tell Miss Leighton he’s here.’
Jack Cunningham was standing in the middle of the drawing room, looking totally at ease. Immaculately dressed, he had the sleek, polished patina of great affluence—every inch the gentleman, in fact. But gentleman he was not. Keeping her distance, Adeline felt a rush of distaste. Resenting his intrusion into her home, and hoping his visit would be of short duration, she didn’t do him the courtesy of asking him to sit down.
Looking at him with a cool composure she was far from feeling, she said, ‘Mr Cunningham! What brings you to Eaton Place?’
‘Thank you for seeing me. I am here to see Lettie. I know she is staying with you and I would like to speak to her.’
‘I’m afraid Lettie doesn’t want to speak to you, Mr Cunningham. I find your presence in my home offensive and I would like you to leave.’
He looked surprised by her coolness, and wondered at the reason for it. His features tightened. ‘Leave? Not until I have seen Lettie. Please don’t fear me.’
‘I don’t.’
‘Good. I rarely harm anyone—unless provoked.’
‘Mr Cunningham, I think you had better leave,’ Adeline repeated coldly.
‘Really, Miss Osborne, I did not expect to be received with so much hostility, and I cannot imagine why. You speak as if I have done Lettie harm—which is not the case, I can assure you.’
‘No? As a result of her association with you Lettie has been—poorly,’ she told him. It was not for her to tell him what Lettie had done. She must do that herself. All she wanted was for him to be gone from her home. ‘I would like you to leave at once,’ she insisted, her utter contempt for him manifested in her narrowed eyes and the disdain that curled her lip. ‘You are not welcome in this house.’
Jack’s eyes narrowed curiously. ‘Lettie has been ill?’ he prevaricated. ‘Why was I not informed?’
‘Why should you be, Mr Cunningham?’
‘I am sure you know by now that Lettie is carrying my child. I have every right to be informed if she is not well. I insist on seeing her,’ he demanded impatiently. ‘I will not leave this house until I have done so. Kindly go and fetch her.’
‘You have no rights.’ A deep voice spoke from the doorway, causing Jack to spin round and face Grant Leighton, who was striding towards him. ‘You crawling bastard,’ Grant hissed, his fists clenched at his sides. ‘Do you think that by coming into Miss Osborne’s house and raising your voice you can terrorise her into submission? You will not see my sister. I will not allow it.’ His voice was implacable, his manner implying that it would give him a great deal of pleasure to throw him out.
Jack appeared not to mind. He smiled smugly. ‘I am here on perfectly legitimate business, and I would be pleased if someone could tell Lettie I am here,’ he persisted.
‘By God, Cunningham, I’ll see you dead and in hell before I let you get your filthy hands on her again.’
‘Even if I say that I will do the decent thing by her?’
‘Decent!’ Grant’s voice was pure venom. ‘You are even more of a lecherous swine than I thought you were—not to mention liable to legal sanctions for all your corrupt dealings. But no matter. Decency requires sufficient imagination to see beyond one’s acts to their consequences.’
‘What the hell are you talking about, Leighton?’
‘Please stop it, Grant. I fight my own battles.’
The quiet voice cut off Grant’s angry tirade. They all turned as one to see Lettie standing in the doorway. At once Jack Cunningham was the smooth charmer, bowing his head and smiling a slow, charismatic smile which was meant to tell everyone present that he wouldn’t harm a fly.
Lettie was dressed with her usual elegance in a soft lemon-coloured gown, her hair brushed back smoothly into a meshed net. As she moved farther into the room she looked at Cunningham directly. Her face was white and so were her lips, and her glittering eyes were ice-cold.
‘How dare you come here? You had no right. How did you know where to find me?’
‘It wasn’t difficult. Do I need an invitation to see you, Lettie? Will you not spare me a few minutes so that we can talk in private?’
‘She’s going nowhere with you, Cunningham,’ Grant growled. ‘You have violated my sister, and you expect her to continue being your whore.’
Adeline flinched at Grant’s choice of word, which she knew would hurt Lettie. But he could be as hard and exacting as any man, and Jack Cunningham’s offensive intrusion was making him increasingly furious.
Lettie drew herself up, her face set, her eyes flashing. ‘My brother is right. We have nothing to say to each other, Jack. Please go.’
‘Lettie,’ he wheedled, holding out his hands to her. ‘Come back to me. What we have is good—’
‘No, Jack. It’s over. I never want to see you again. Ever.’
‘Come now, Lettie. My intentions are entirely honourable. I want you to marry me—to be my wife.’
‘Wife!’ Lettie’s indignation and fury rose, choking and hot. ‘You have a warped sense of honour, Jack. What do you intend doing with the wife you already have?’
Adeline and Grant stood there, looking at Lettie for the one awful, drawn-out moment it took them to recover from her shocking revelation. It was enough time for Lettie to draw enough breath back into her lungs, to look at Jack and say with appalled breathlessness, ‘Or don’t you remember, Jack?’
Caught off-guard, Jack looked at her a long time without bothering to open his mouth. Lettie saw the truth in his eyes. His face changed. His smooth, masculine good-looks departed as everything in his countenance pinched and tightened, and for the first time she realised how mean he looked, how hard.
‘Yes, he has a wife. Her name is Molly,’ Lettie heatedly told Grant and Adeline. ‘She is in the asylum, where she has been incarcerated for the past ten years, after being delivered of a stillborn child—her third, I believe. Unable to forgive her inability to give you a living child, you put her there—didn’t you, Jack?—letting everyone believe she was dead. The loss of her children and her freedom drove her insane. Do you dare to deny it?’
Jack looked at Lettie and his face was like stone, as were his eyes. A blue vein twitched on his temple, and a creeping chill slithered down his spine when he thought of his wife. ‘How did you find out?’
‘I have ears, Jack. I listen. I went to see her—in a place that must surely be as close to hell on earth as is possible to get. In the course of my work I have seen all kinds of things, but this is different—the terror, the inescapable certainty of death, helpless and without dignity. How could you do that to your wife?’
The eyes Jack fixed on his accuser were filled with loathing for the woman he had locked away from the world. ‘No, not a wife—a madwoman who should have died when she bore another dead child and rid me of her burden. She ceased to be my wife when the asylum door closed on her. As far as I am concerned she is as dead as her stillborn children.’
‘You have a wife—a living wife—which the law recognises even if you do not,’ Lettie whispered, truly appalled. ‘You are despicable. And you would have entered into a bigamous marriage with me—knowing your wife still lives. How could you, Jack? How could you? Have you no compassion for her at all? She is ill.’ Lettie was unable to believe how uncaring this man could be.
‘Aye—an illness that grew into insanity and violence with each day.’
‘If she became insane then you drove her to it—you and that place you put her in.’
Grant saw an instant of pity in Lettie’s eyes when she looked at her lover. Because she recognised his horror of the disease that had consumed his wife. He also saw that Cunningham had lost Lettie not solely by his deceit, but in her contempt—that awakening of disgust which was the end of love between a man and a woman.
‘I find your obsession with having a child strange,’ Lettie remarked coldly, ‘when I think of the small victims who pass through your hands to satisfy the appetites of the customers in your brothels. You disgust me.’
‘Enough,’ Jack hissed, his eyes blazing. ‘Shut your mouth.’ Her unflinching stare seemed to increase his fury two-fold.
Grant stepped forward. ‘Why should she, Cunningham? Lettie has every right to speak freely in this house—although I had no idea she was as aware of the extent of your sordid dealings as myself. The very nature of your other business, which brings about its own secrecy, makes you unfit to associate with decent, respectable society.’
Suddenly chilled by what she was hearing, and the realisation of what it implied, Adeline felt twin sensations of horror and disgust rise like bile in her throat, forming a painful obstruction as she stared at this evil that had entered her home. Too stunned to act, too sickened even to comment upon what she was hearing, she remained motionless.
‘How I choose to make my money is my affair, Leighton—and so is Lettie and the child she is carrying. It is mine, and as its father I have rights.’
‘There no longer is a child, Jack. So you can forget any claim you might have had,’ Lettie threw at him, almost triumphantly. ‘I didn’t want it. I don’t want anything of yours.’
He frowned. ‘No child?’ Suddenly comprehension dawned. It hurt him, and he could not conceal it. His body went rigid, his right hand flexed and unflexed, and the muscles of his jaw twitched in reaction. ‘I understand you have been ill. Have you miscarried?’
‘No, Jack. When I found out just how vile you are, I realised I could not bear the child of a monster.’
Shock and grief registered in Jack’s eyes, and for the first time there was an emotion in him quite different from anger. But it lasted only an instant. ‘Good God! You got rid of it.’
There was utter silence for a second, then Jack’s face went white as he truly understood what he had heard. ‘To satisfy your own whim, you deliberately killed our child.’
Lettie wrapped her arms around her waist and nodded. ‘Yes—yes, I did. I’m not proud—but, yes. I made a choice—the right choice for me. I couldn’t bear the thought of giving birth to a child of yours.’
‘You bitch.’
Lettie’s face was tense, and pale also. She raised her brows very slightly. ‘Really?’ She shrugged. ‘Think what you like. Now, please go—get out. You sicken me. I don’t want to see you again, and that is my final word.’
Jack looked frightening. His lips were drawn back from his teeth in a snarl, but his body was trembling. There was hate in his eyes. He glared at Grant. ‘I congratulate you, Leighton. Your digging into my private life has given you what you wanted. But if you imagine you can do that and get away with it you are mistaken.’
When it looked as if he would argue further, Grant strode towards the door and opened it. ‘You heard what my sister said. Get out. If I have the least suspicion of you attempting to see Lettie, even indirectly, I shall know how to set the story of your squalid affairs circulating round town which will bring the full investigation of the law down upon you. Since both moralists and police alike have been clamouring for a London clean-up since the beginning of the decade that’s bound to happen sooner rather than later anyway. I’m only surprised you’ve got away with it for so long, and that your establishments have remained free from searches by the police.’
‘Not every policeman is honest, Leighton.’
‘It takes more than a nod and a wink, Cunningham. On the whole the police are virtually incorruptible, and proud of the work they do. I know there are those who can be bribed, but I promise you I will do everything I can to bring you down.’
‘By God, Leighton,’ Jack breathed, his voice intense, ‘you’ll pay for this.’ His gaze flashed to Lettie. ‘Both of you.’
Never had Adeline seen such hatred. The pure, naked, terrifying hatred of Grant. And why? Because he had got the better of Jack Cunningham.
‘There will be no recriminations if you know what’s good for you—if you don’t want to spend the rest of your days behind bars. You, Cunningham, are scum.’
He had spoken quietly, too quietly for Cunningham to muster up words to reply. Grant held his eyes with a steady, unflinching stare. There was no pretence between them.
‘And one more thing. If marrying Lettie and buying Westwood Hall was your way of insinuating yourself into respectability you can forget it. Diana’s luck has turned and she has repaid her debts. Westwood Hall is no longer for you. Now, get out.’
Without saying another word Jack Cunningham left the house.
Grant hoped it would be the last they saw of him, but somehow he didn’t think so. Cunningham wasn’t the sort of man who would simply walk away without trying to wreak some kind of vengeance. There remained the threat that he might reveal what Lettie had done, and in so doing bring her down with the scandal.
When the door had closed, Grant went to his sister, who looked shaken by the whole unpleasant episode. Adeline rang for tea. She was troubled by everything she had just heard, and Jack Cunningham’s shock at the loss of his child had had a ring of sincerity she had not expected.
‘Lettie, did you go to the asylum by yourself?’ Adeline asked curiously.
‘No. Alice was with me.’
‘Alice?’
‘Jack’s sister—the woman you saw outside the Phoenix Club. She’s fond of Molly, and does what she can.’
‘So—all that talk about a charity clinic wasn’t true?’
‘No. I’m sorry, Adeline. I couldn’t tell you what she wanted then because I didn’t know myself—only that it was of a serious, secretive nature. I met her afterwards and she told me how Jack had cast his wife off as he did his family when he began to prosper. To protect her from his wrath, I didn’t tell Jack it was Alice who told me. The poor woman has approached him several times for money to make Molly’s life easier, but he refuses to support any member of his family.’
‘Then he truly is a monster, and you are well rid of him.’
‘I know that now. Imagine what it must have been like for Molly—the man she trusted, maybe even loved, threw her aside like so much rubbish when she most needed him. Sadly she remains imprisoned—not only in that place, but in her mind—beyond all human help.’
The situation was so tragic there was nothing Adeline could say. Grant seemed to be preoccupied. She watched him pour himself a large brandy, then look at it a long moment, seeing the light burn through its amber depths.
What was he thinking of? she wondered. Or who? She recalled Frances telling her that Diana was in trouble financially, but she had had no idea she was in so much debt that she was forced to sell Westwood Hall. And Jack Cunningham had been hoping to buy it. Grant must have found out about the transaction and, loath to have Jack Cunningham as his neighbour, bought it himself—which testified in Adeline’s mind to the close relationship between Grant and Diana Waverley.