I was about to return to the house when I spotted a crested carriage and a handsome team of four bays rolling up the drive. My instinct was to run to meet it — him — but I was held back by the fear that Acton had been home to see Aunt Mary, and had come to ring a peel over me. He didn’t wait for the post boy to open the door and let down the step for him. The instant the carriage drew to a stop he threw open the door, leapt down unaided and hurried towards me.
If I had not been so upset his team of four would have told me had not been to the Abbey. It was his warm smile that made me realize he had come straight to me from London. Surely that was the behaviour of a lover, and the gleam in his eyes confirmed it. He didn’t draw me into his arms, but just gazed at me a moment, then reached out both hands and grasped mine.
“Kate, I’m glad you came out to meet me. You know my aversion to meeting your house-guest. Is she still here?”
“Yes, certainly she is. What — how was your trip to London?”
“Successful. I ran into one little snag — an unavoidable delay, a nuisance, not a defeat. We’ll soon be rid of her. What has she been up to during my absence?”
This was my chance to tell him, but before I could form the words, he rattled on. “I’ve brought a surprise for you, Kate.” He reached into his jacket and drew forth an envelope. I accepted it in some confusion, wondering what on earth it could be, but assuming it had something to do with Lorna. The writing looked like a lady’s hand, and the wafer sealing it was not red like a government seal. I opened it and drew out an invitation to Larson’s rout party for me and Mama.
“Well, aren’t you pleased?” he asked, his smile dwindling. “You certainly seemed unhappy that you hadn’t been invited.”
The strains of the past days left my nerves in tatters or I would not have ripped up at him so sharply. All my annoyance and anger and uncertainty had been gathering for days. Add to it my fear of what Lady Mary would do about our sneaking into the Abbey and the pressure was too much. My poor heart could hold no more negative emotion.
Something had to burst and the impossibility of accepting that cherished invitation happened to be the weapon that did it. “Do you dare to tell me you went to Larsons and begged for this invitation? You did! Don’t deny it!”
“I thought you would be happy.”
“Happy, to beg for an invitation, as though we were some sort of parvenues?”
“I did not have to beg.”
“Of course not. Lord Acton’s wish is the world’s command. Do you expect us to go there knowing we are not wanted, but grudgingly permitted to come because his lordship insisted! And I notice she didn’t include Lady Lorna!”
The mention of that name was like a red flag to a bull. “You know perfectly well that woman is the reason you weren’t invited in the first place,” he said, his anger rising to match my own.
“Yes, and I know why too! Because you and your aunt have decreed that she is persona non grata. “
“For a very good reason!” he shot back.
“What reason is that, Acton? Your mind was made up the minute you laid eyes on her.”
“It certainly was!” he shot back, then stopped, as if he had said more than he intended.
“And what is this mysterious reason? Mama and I deserve to know if you have some positive proof that she is a scoundrel.”
“I notice you no longer reject the notion out of hand. Getting too hot for you to handle, is she?”
“Not in the least. Unlike some, I am willing to listen to reason, or reasons.”
“You were right the first time, there is only one, but it is incontrovertible. She is not my sister. Have I ever lied to you, Kate?”
“Not until now.”
“As you are clearly overwrought, I shall let that insult pass. I am not lying now either, Kate. Especially not now. Why do you choose to take the word of a complete stranger, someone you have never seen before, over mine?”
All my doubts came washing back over me. I felt an awful urge to cry, something I rarely do, and never in front of anyone. When life becomes too much for me, I shed a quiet tear alone in my room.
“For God’s sake, Acton, tell me. You have no idea what the past two days have been like.” I choked back a snort of frustration. Acton’s anger melted away like a snowflake in the sun. I believe he thought I was sniffling.
“Kate,” he said in a gentle voice, and drew me into his arms. “You’ll know soon enough. There has been a slight delay in bringing the proof, but it is on its way.” Then he set me off at arm’s length, his strong hands gripping my wrists and said, “Now tell me what that appalling woman has done to reduce you to this condition.”
“Oh it’s not her. It’s everyone else. We suffered a half dozen visits of the local worthies this afternoon, every one of them come to insult Lorna. And on top of it all, she has been acting rather — strangely.”
“Tell me all about it.”
Since I had already told Beamer, there was no point keeping it from Acton, for Beamer would tell him. I omitted only my midnight trip to the Abbey. We began to walk up towards the house, holding hands. I told him about our various callers, about Mr. Chalmers, who had been in Colchester the day we went there, and of his arrival at the inn in Kelvedon the day Lorna arrived at the Abbey. I also mentioned seeing her twice with Taylor.
“The first time I thought it was an accident, but what would your man be doing in our spinney twice in one week? He didn’t have a gun or fishing rod, so he wasn’t after rabbits or fish.”
“I’ll ask him.”
“The odd thing, though, is how much alike they looked, there in profile, both with that Acton nose, and Taylor is your brother after all, even if he was born on the wrong side of the blanket.”
“I grant you there is a slight resemblance in the nose. I noticed it when she came to the Abbey, but then you know a Roman nose is by no means limited to Rome. I could name you half a dozen in the parish, and Papa was not responsible for them either. Taylor is the exception, and that was before Papa married. He did the right thing by his one by-blow, had him educated and kept him on the estate. He would never have cast off a daughter. She is not my half-sister, if that is what you think.”
“No, that’s not what I thought at all. I thought she was Lorna, and you were all determined to deny her to hide the shame of a blot on the family escutcheon.”
He came to a dead stop, his grip on my hand tightened and he turned to me. His face might have been made of stone, his expression was so hard and stiff. He hesitated a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. And when he spoke, his voice had a hollow sound to it. “What shame?”
“I thought she might not have been kidnapped at all, but run away with the gypsies because she was in love with one of them. She was said to be a wild, headstrong girl, and fond of men.”
I couldn’t make heads or tails of his reaction. I thought at first he was stunned that I knew, then decided he was merely relieved. The frozen face melted back to flesh and blood and he actually gave a weird, relieved little laugh. “You should be writing novels, Kate,” he said. “Aunt Maddie would be enthralled with such a plot. Throw in that she was being forced to marry a villain, turn the gypsy into a prince in the last chapter and let them live happily ever after.”
Now I knew what had not happened to Lady Lorna, but still had no idea what had become of her. But I was half convinced that our house-guest was not Lady Lorna.
“Come to tea at the Abbey tomorrow, Kate. I’ll talk to Aunt Mary. Perhaps ...”
“You’ll let her tell me the great secret?”
“Actually she’s the one more determined not to tell anyone, but when she hears what conclusion you had come to, she might feel the truth is no worse.”
“I think you had better speak to your aunt first, Acton. She might dislike to see me at the Abbey.”
“It’s my abbey,” he said. “I can invite whomever I like.”
“You might change your mind after speaking to her.”
His frown was back in place. “Unless you have been tying your garter in public or parading yourself in church in dampened gowns — “
“Just talk to her,” I said. “I really must go now. I’m already late for dinner.” I darted off and left him standing there in a state of confusion, which was only fair. He had left me in the same state.