Very Truly Yours Read online

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  is all arranged, I have a right to care about your comings and goings, my dear."

  "Arranged, but not yet signed," she replied sweetly.

  He went to her side and his gaze flitted possessively over her. "I daresay our guest doesn't like to be kept waiting any more than I do. Isn't that so, Fairchild?"

  "I should imagine Miss Cranshaw had something pressing to do," Jack replied.

  She flashed him a furtive, grateful look, then hurried to kiss her mother and aunt.

  Barrington glared at Jack, then grinned mirthlessly. "Don't give a woman too much of a lead, Fairchild, or she'll buck you like a wild horse."

  Cranshaw chuckled. "Lord Barrington is a strong man, Mr. Fairchild. That is why we were so delighted when he offered for our eldest. To own the truth, we were relieved. He is the only man our headstrong daughter would agree to marry!" Cranshaw shook his head. "I don't mind admitting that I am one of the richest men in the country. And now my bloodline will join the ranks of the titled. Lord Barrington is a viscount, you know. His father is the Marquess of Perringford. A very old title."

  "Yes," Jack replied, "I am well aware."

  Liza must have caught his sardonic edge, for she shot him a sly, conspiratorial smile.

  "Your grandfather sits in the House of Lords, I understand, Fairchild?" Cranshaw asked.

  Jack gave him a sanguine smile. Clearly the time had come to explain his disposition in life. "Yes, sir. He is Lord Tutley. I must be frank, however, and say that the title will do me little good, for I am quite sure my grandfather will not leave me his fortune. That is why I am determined to succeed on my own. In fact, it would per-

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  haps be in everyone's best interests were I to resign the title to Arthur Paley. He'll very likely inherit the family fortune."

  "Arthur!" Cranshaw burst out. "But he's a glover! What would he know about running an estate?"

  Jack grinned. "He runs a small farm as well. And one needn't know much when one has the money to hire people who do. It is a peculiar business, I must admit."

  Barrington sneered. "Perhaps it's for the best, eh? After all, Mr. Paley's parents did not die under a cloud of scandal like yours did, Fairchild. One has to think of the family's reputation."

  Every head in the room jerked toward the viscount as if all were attached to the same puppet string. The shock in the room was palpable. No one could quite fathom his lack of tact, except for Liza's Aunt Patty.

  "Sandal, did he say?" Mrs. Bramble nearly shouted, holding a hand to her good ear. "Did his lordship say sandal? I don't understand."

  No one said a word. Jack merely smiled. He'd gotten under Barrington's skin sooner than he could have hoped. If he could keep prodding the viscount, the brute might slip and show his true colors to Liza's parents. Liza was watching his reaction closely, and her eyes warmed with admiration when he remained imperturbable.

  "Well, I must say, this is all remarkable," Cranshaw sputtered. He was apparently amazed to find anyone who did not hunger after a title as keenly as he. He clapped Jack on the back. "What a singular fellow you are, Fair-child. I admire you. Indeed, I do. I believe in hard work, my boy. Even for the grandson of a nobleman like you. And I'll have plenty of it for you, dear boy. Mark my word."

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  When the majordomo announced dinner, Jack was given the honor of escorting Mrs. Cranshaw to the dining room, even though he wasn't the highest-ranking gentleman in the room. Mr. Cranshaw followed, escorting his sister-in-law. Liza accepted the viscount's arm, but was startled when he stopped unexpectedly in the hall. He waited until the others had rounded a corner, then snatched one of her wrists, breathing alcoholic fumes in her face.

  "Where were you?" he snarled.

  "Whatever do you mean?"

  "What kept you so long?"

  Liza's chest squeezed tight. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze with a light smile. "I couldn't decide which dress to wear for dinner. Do you approve of my choice? If you do not, sir, of course I will change."

  "Don't be absurd." His gray eyes narrowed. "You're lying, Liza. I know where you were. You were in the park, down by the pond. That's where you go, isn't it?"

  She frowned, then assumed an incredulous look. "Do be serious, sir."

  "I am utterly serious," he said in a low voice. "I don't know why you were there, but I know you were meeting someone."

  "What a ridiculous thing to say!"

  He tightened his grip and she stifled a wince, saying through clenched teeth, "You're hurting me."

  "Good. Perhaps it will make an impression on you. And if it doesn't, then I've taken care of the matter in any event."

  Her heart quickened. "What do you mean?"

  "I don't know who you're meeting, but whoever it is will find himself in a fix if he dares to show up again."

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  "What have you done?"

  "I've ordered the land agent to set an animal trap near the pond. Go there at your own risk."

  "You've ordered the land agent?" she spat at him. "How dare you! We are not married yet. This is my father's estate. You presume too much, sirrah."

  "I'll remind you that your father is utterly delighted to have me as a son."

  "You can't set a trap there. Celia strolls by the pond almost every day."

  "Then tell her to stop. You won't deceive me again, Liza. I promise you."

  CHAPTER NINE

  ranshaw Park boasted one of the region's finest and most elaborate gardens. It contained a Grecian folly and Baroque water fountains, ponds brimming with lily pads, and knotted plots of colorful flowers and pungent herbs that tickled the nose and pleased the eye. There was even a sophisticated maze of clipped hedges hiding an impressive topiary garden.

  Liza's favorite area was the ornate chinoiserie garden. It spanned a pond of murky water filled with orange and yellow carp. Liza often took bread crumbs to feed them from the quaint, arched wooden bridge that led to a pagoda-style gazebo. The area was far enough from the house to be hidden from view, but close enough to escape to quickly. Tonight even that private area had been invaded by merry revelers.

  The Cranshaws and members of their dinner party strolled among the guests like visiting royalty. Jack had offered to escort Aunt Patty, and there were more than a

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  few times when he thought the old girl was flirting with him. Perhaps it was just the romance of the torchlit evening, or the gaiety of the half-inebriated guests who could fancy for an evening that they, too, were wealthy. Or perhaps Jack merely imagined the need for love in everyone he saw, young and old alike, even while he denied that need in himself. While he strolled with Mrs. Brumble, he watched and waited for a chance to catch Liza alone.

  Liza hovered near her mother while Mrs. Cranshaw received homage from the tenants' wives. But as soon as Liza could slip away, she did. She simply would not be at peace until the trap had been dismantled. The audacity of that loathsome man.

  Perhaps he was being more disagreeable than usual because their engagement party was fast approaching. He didn't want to lose the prize so close to the finish line, and he undoubtedly felt threatened by Jack's sudden appearance. What an ugly affair, Liza thought with a shiver of self-reproach. How could she ever have accepted Bar-rington's offer? Then again, how could she have avoided it?

  She found the land agent, Mr. Gorman, near a bed of geraniums bordered with creeping mint. She told him that her father was unhappy to hear that a trap had been set near the pond without his permission. When the flustered land agent said he'd only been following the viscount's orders, she smiled understandingly, and then icily informed him that Lord Barrington wasn't master of the estate. She asked Mr. Gorman to leave the party and dismantle the trap at once, and he did. No one at Cranshaw Park, not even the gruff Mr. Gorman, questioned Liza's authority. Everyone knew her parents doted on her and caved in to her will most of the time.

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  She had just turned the corner of
the gravel path around the plot of hyacinths when she saw Jack and Aunt Patty approaching. Her spirit soared at the sight of them. Her aunt hung on his arm as coquettishly as a Society belle, and to his credit, Jack listened as attentively to her as he would a potential conquest.

  "Good evening," Liza said, and they both looked up, quick smiles appearing on both their faces.

  "There she is," Jack said. "I've been looking for you, Miss Cranshaw."

  "You should have let him find you sooner, my dear," Aunt Patty said. She tapped her closed fan on his shoulder and winked audaciously. "He is quite a charming young fellow."

  "I know," Liza said dryly. She met Jack's eyes and smiled. "Now if I can only find Celia I'll have all my favorite people in a circle."

  Jack raised a brow, appearing shocked to be included in her inner circle.

  "Have you seen her, Aunt Patty?"

  "What's that, m'dear?" She held up her white glove to her ear.

  "Celia," Liza repeated louder. "Have you seen her?"

  "Not for some time. I saw her about a half an hour ago. She was walking toward the rose garden."

  Liza's mouth turned to dry cotton. Celia always cut through the rose garden when she went to the pond. A vision of her sister caught in a crippling trap flashed in her mind. "Oh, dear Lord. I did not act soon enough."

  "Is there something wrong, Miss Cranshaw?"

  She looked up at Jack and nodded. It seemed she could always count on him to empathize with her concerns. "Yes, Mr. Fairchild. Just before we went into the dining

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  room, Lord Barrington told me he set a trap by the pond. As soon as I could, I told my father's land agent to remove it, but it may not have been soon enough. Why did she leave the party?"

  Liza looked to her befuddled aunt, then scanned the crowd for the best person to send after her sister. Suddenly, a sobering thought occurred to her. A few days ago Celia confided that she'd received some sort of love letter. She'd been very secretive about it and refused to tell Liza anything more than that. What if she was meeting the one who'd sent the letter? The tenants' party would be the perfect time to slip away for a rendezvous. Her parents would never miss her in a crowd like this. That meant she couldn't send just anyone after Celia without creating a scandal.

  "I believe my sister has ventured to the pond. I must go after her myself. Will you excuse me?" Liza nodded politely and started away.

  "Wait!" Aunt Patty said. "Do not go yourself, dear girl. You can't venture to the pond at night. Send one of the servants."

  "No, Auntie, I cannot. This is a private matter. I will be fine. Do not tell Mama where I'm going. She'll only worry."

  "I will go with you," Jack said, kissing his elderly companion's hand. "My dear Mrs. Brumble, I will make sure that your niece is safe."

  Aunt Patty's cheeks wrinkled like fine lace when she smiled, and her eyes locked conspiratorially with his. "Do you know, Mr. Fairchild, that if I were young enough I'd elope to Gretna Green with you. I suppose it's too much to hope that my niece should take the same notion to mind."

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  This was too much to bear. Liza turned on her heel and hurried through the garden. Jack followed at a discreet distance. When they were far enough away from the house, he caught up with her and she led him at a clipped pace through open fields toward the fishpond. When she stumbled over a log, he offered his arm, and she took it gratefully, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow. Half her mind was on Celia, and the other half on Jack's every move. Now and then their legs brushed together, and she savored the sensation as long as it tingled along her skin.

  "Thank you for coming, Mr. Fairchild," she said. "I cannot tell you how pleasant it is to have a gentleman's comfort and support."

  "I am at your service, my dear Miss Cranshaw."

  He was too gracious to mention the obvious—that she should have received this support from Barrington.

  "You are probably wondering why I've allowed you to accompany me."

  He chuckled. "I am, but I did not want to press my good fortune by raising the subject for debate."

  "If Celia has been injured, then Mr. Gorman will need your help. If she isn't injured, then I will need your help keeping the land agent away from a possible rendezvous. I'm not sure which outcome I fear the most."

  "I understand," he replied, and she knew that he did. In fact, she couldn't imagine that there would ever be a situation he wouldn't understand. He was the sort of man who could be a woman's best friend as well as a lover.

  Liza was out of breath by the time they reached the pond. They stopped in the shadow of a tree when they spotted Mr. Gorman disengaging the trap.

  "Thank Heaven Celia wasn't caught in the trap," Liza

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  whispered. Without being seen, she led Jack discreetly to the other side of the pond, where a bench and stone grotto had been built as shelter from the elements. They stopped to watch and listen, but a black cloud had covered the full moon, and it was hard to see. Liza heard a feminine giggle, followed by the low chuckle of a man. Then the cloud parted and silvery light shone down on Celia entangled in a man's arms.

  "Oh, no," she whispered.

  Jack went still and frowned in the distance. "Is that your sister?"

  "Yes. Mr. Fairchild, I must ask you—"

  "No, Miss Cranshaw, you needn't ask a thing. I will be utterly discreet. Go speak with her. I will wait for you here until you see who she is with. No need to make more of this than necessary."

  Liza nodded gratefully and crept through the tall marsh grasses, stopping twenty feet away from the grotto. Celia was embraced in the arms of a man Liza couldn't quite recognize. They were kissing passionately. The sight shocked Liza, and she reeled with remorse. This was her fault. And Desiree's.

  "Celia?" she called out.

  The sixteen-year-old jerked back from the young man, and Liza recognized him at last. "Giles Honeycut!"

  Giles's mouth dropped open. "Miss Cranshaw!"

  Celia looked utterly mortified. "Liza, what are you doing here?"

  "I came to save you from ... from God knows what. Celia, whatever were you thinking, running off like this?"

  "I doubt very much they were thinking at all," came Jack's voice. He came up beside Liza and gripped her elbow to lend moral support. He pilloried Giles with a

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  glowering frown. "Forgive my intrusion, but I now have a stake in the outcome of this tete-a-tete. Giles, I'll have your hide tanned for this."

  "Mr. Fairchild, it's not what it would appear."

  "I'm sure it's much worse," Liza retorted. "Do you know what my father would do to you, Mr. Honeycut, if he found out about this?"

  "Please do not tell him, Liza," Celia begged, tears welling in her eyes.

  "I should, simply to make sure this never happens again."

  "It won't happen again," Jack declared, thrusting his hands in his pockets. "At least not if Giles wants to keep his position as my clerk."

  The younger couple exchanged pained glances.

  "Go home, Mr. Honeycut," Liza said.

  Giles looked longingly at Celia, then kicked the earth with his toe and stomped off.

  "Young scallywag," Jack grumbled as he watched the lusty youth vanish into the night.

  "Oh, Liza, I'm sorry! Do you hate me?"

  Liza turned to her, her anger melting in a pool of relief. "No, my darling, of course I don't hate you."

  Celia ran into her arms. Liza cradled her, unable to hug her close enough. She stroked her hair and kissed her head. "Oh, my darling Celia. What happened here?"

  "Nothing. He just kissed me," she sobbed, hot tears spilling onto Liza's breast.

  "Celia," Liza said gently, "he could ruin you. You will be ruined if anyone learns you were here with him alone."

  "But I love him."

  Liza laughed incredulously. "No, you don't. You're too young."

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  "I'm not!" Celia pulled away and stared defiantly at her. "Yo
u don't know because you have never loved anyone yourself."

  Liza's ears burned at the condemnation. Lord, if only Mr. Fairchild weren't here.

  "You do not know what passion is like, Liza. If you did you would never have agreed to marry Lord Barring-ton."

  Liza reached out and clutched her hands. "I have felt passion. I simply never told you about it."

  "When?" Celia shot back, still in tears. "When have you ever?"

  When I danced with Jack Fairchild, Liza thought. When he kissed me and showed me a carnal hunger and a passion I did not want to know I possessed. But she could not say these things in front of him, and so she wept in frustration. The humiliating tears poured out and she covered her hands, crying for all that might have been and all that would never be.

  "Don't weep, Liza. Please, I can't stand it. Please."

  Celia's arms went around her, and Liza hugged her fiercely. "Oh, lambkin, I care for you so much."

  "And I love you, Liza."

  "I cannot stand to see you throw your life away."

  "I won't, I promise."

  Liza drew back and gripped her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake. "Then you must never meet with Mr. Honeycut here again. Do you understand? Your reputation will be ruined."

  "What about your reputation?" Celia said, still sounding aggrieved at being deprived of Giles.

  "I don't care a fig about my reputation. My life is over the moment I marry the viscount. Don't you think I know

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  that? What does it matter what people say about me? It is you we must protect. I must take care of you, and Mama, and Papa. I'll do anything for you three. You're all that matters."

  Celia dashed her tears with the back of her hands, her innocent face sobering with new wisdom. "Oh, Liza, I've been so selfish. I haven't thought of you at all, and what you've given up for me. Of course, I will do whatever you say. So ... so you want me to refuse Mr. Honeycut?"

  "No, darling. I ask only that you wait. You trust me, don't you, dear heart?" When Celia nodded, she smiled. "As far as I'm concerned, you may marry Mr. Honeycut if you wish, but first you must wait until I am married."