Pendragon by Catherine Coulter
“Yes, I’ve seen William. I must admit that I was shocked to see the two wives living together. Both wives.”
“Yes, of course. Why not? That wretched man left us with sons to raise and little money to do it. He was furious when his younger brother Edward took me and Thomas in. Naturally Libby came here when he booted her out, small William with her.”
“And now Libby will have an affaire with Lord Kipper?”
Madeleine smiled at that. “Libby is the only woman in these parts he hasn’t taken as a lover. At least I think that’s true. With Niles one can never be certain of anything. Isn’t he a delicious man? Of course you would like to have a liaison with him, but you aren’t stupid. You will wait until you present my son with his heir.”
Meggie only sighed. “Ma’am, like you, I will stick like a tick to Thomas. As for Lord Kipper, he is older than my father. Perhaps I would knit him a pair of socks for Christmas, but nothing beyond that.”
“Ha,” said Madeleine. “You’re young. You see everything, yet you know nothing at all.”
“This is all passing strange, ma’am.”
“Mind your own business and stop thinking about it. Why did you ask about Libby and Niles? I know you want Lord Kipper for yourself.”
“In only a few years I could call him Grandfather.”
“What is your point? He is a glorious man.”
“Well, yes, he is quite beautiful. You’re right about that. However, I much prefer your son.”
“Ah, go away now and send all those women back to the village. I wish you to be pregnant soon. See to it. Perhaps you will be so ill that you will leave the dust where it collects.”
Meggie slowly rose from the chair and shook out her skirts. “As to my becoming with child, ma’am, both Thomas and I would like to have a child.” Did he really? Actually, they hadn’t spoken of children.
“I wouldn’t put it past you to deny him.”
Meggie’s head began to ache. She stood a moment outside Madeleine’s bedchamber, leaning against the wall. A picture frame caught her shoulder and she moved over a bit. She closed her eyes and thought, How long have I been married now? Four days? And already I have a lump on my head. Surely marriage isn’t supposed to begin like this. She remembered stories of her aunt Sinjun’s trials when she’d first gone to Vere Castle with Uncle Colin in Scotland. They’d sounded so romantic, so adventurous, and Meggie had dined on those stories for days and nights at a time. She realized now that she’d been a fool. There was nothing romantic about this; there was only fear of every sound she heard and every shadow she saw.
26
MEGGIE WENT DOWNSTAIRS to the estate room, a small back room, that gave onto a small garden that would give her stepmother, Mary Rose, heart pains to see what bad shape it was in. She wanted to find the steward, Paddy. She had things to do.
Paddy walked in just as she was about to give up. He was shorter than she was, round as a cannonball, a head thick with riotous red hair, and blue, blue eyes, darker than hers. He had lovely white teeth and a ready smile. “My lady,” he said, bowing to her. “At last I meet you. Is it really you now? What a pleasure, a vicar’s daughter, the niece of a duke—”
“He’s an earl, actually, just like Thomas.”
“Aye, niece of an earl. Ah, his lordship—it has a fine sound to it, doesn’t it now? He deserves the title and the money. A good man is Thomas Malcombe, albeit very young to wield such power.”
“Yes,” Meggie said. “He is a good man. I don’t think age has anything to do with it.”
“Well, he’s your new husband, now, isn’t he? I am to meet his lordship here in just a moment. We have more repairs to consider.”
“I want that ancient chandelier to be rehung, Paddy, before it crashes down and mashes one of our heads. And there are stairs to be replaced. Also, I need a score of gardeners, not people who see a weed and step on it, but people who know their way about a garden and a lawn.”
“I always go around that chandelier, don’t you know?” Paddy said, shaking his head. “I’ll do that, my lady, don’t worry about it. And the gardens, I’ll find the best men in the area. Mrs. Black is singing, so happy she is with the women we brought in from the village. Ah, here’s his new lordship.”
“Paddy, I must speak to my wife in private for a moment. Please come back in a half hour.” The door no sooner closed on Paddy than Thomas said without preamble, “My mother trapped me in the corridor just beneath a portrait of my great-great-uncle Mortimer who went to Wales just after his elder brother came into the title, so furious that he went into a coal mine and the roof caved in on him and killed him.”
“She’s your mother. I suppose that she has a right to trap you whenever she wishes to.”
“She did. She demanded to know if I was trying my best to get you pregnant.”
Meggie gave him the wickedest smile. No daughter of a vicar should smile like that. “Are you, Thomas? Trying your very best?”
“Dammit,” he said, and grabbed her. He moaned in her mouth, and that sweet sound, the taste of him, made her wild. Her hands were on his britches’ buttons before he managed to pull away. He leaned his forehead against hers. He was breathing very hard, trying to get hold of himself. “Oh God,” he whispered, leaned down to kiss her, cursed, and took four steps back.
“Why did you dismiss Paddy if you didn’t want to kiss me until I jumped on you and carried you to the floor?”
He laughed, just couldn’t help himself. “I dismissed Paddy because I wanted to know what you spoke to my mother about. Her eyes were nearly red, Meggie, so furious with you she was sputtering.”
“So she’s angry, is she?”
“Yes. You sound very pleased with yourself.”
Meggie felt a jab of unworthiness. “Don’t worry about it, Thomas. She and I will learn to deal with each other. Ah, did she tell you exactly what she was angry about?”
“She just said you needed discipline and I was to beat you, that it was obvious I hadn’t brought you to heel yet.”
“Well,” Meggie said, giving him a sunny smile. “Perhaps you can bring me to heel if we go riding.”
“Your head, Meggie. You shouldn’t ride until tomorrow at the earliest. You should lie down now and rest.”
He was right and she said, “Blessed Hell, all right.” Her hair was long and curling to the middle of her back, tied back with a length of black velvet ribbon. He knew, knew all the way to the oak floor beneath his feet, that she was distracted because she wanted him, and she wanted to hit him because he’d pulled away from her. She might not love him, but she wanted him and surely that was an excellent beginning. He would have her yet, or he didn’t know what he’d do. He was an optimistic man. He had to hold to that. He heard her say, a bit of a sulk in her voice, “Yes, I will feed Aisling carrots and explore Pendragon grounds. I wish to plant more trees. I must see what sort grow well here.”
“Meggie—”
When she turned, her eyebrow up, he looked at her closely for a very long moment, then slowly shook his head. Let her stew. “Please, be careful and don’t walk too far from the castle.” He didn’t tell her that one of the smaller stable lads would be following her everywhere at a discreet distance.
“Ah, that person who struck me last night might be lurking about to do it again?”
“Everyone is accounted for,” he said, lying easily. “No, I just don’t want you to overdo.” Actually, he knew the exact location of everyone in the castle, including Mrs. Black and Barnacle, who was currently lying on his back on the kitchen floor, arms flung out, groaning. Mrs. Black merely stepped over him.
She left him. She wanted to kiss him again, feel that moan of his in her mouth.
Lord Kipper found Meggie in the center of a maze that had fallen to ruin at least twenty years before. She was standing there, staring about at all the yew bushes, wondering how she could fix it, when she heard him say from behind her, “Ah, my beautiful young bride.”
She raised an
“I wish I had seen you first, but alas, I didn’t.”
“My father would have howled had you inquired about me, sir, since you are even his senior by many years.”
“When it involves men and women, years don’t matter.”
“I shouldn’t like to be a widow at twenty-one because my husband died of old age.”
“How old are you now?”
“I am nineteen. That would give us two years of bliss before you croaked it.”
He stared at her, as if she were, Meggie thought, some strange bird that had just dropped out of the sky, as if he didn’t know whether to shoot her or stroke her feathers. Then he laughed, threw back his head and laughed and laughed.
Meggie just looked at this beautiful man, and now that he was laughing, he looked more than beautiful, he looked dazzling, surrounded by overgrown yew bushes, a watery sun shining down on his head.
“I understand that Libby isn’t at all certain that you are serious about admiring her.”
He was still grinning when he said, “That’s true. But we will see, won’t we?”
“You will, certainly. What do you want, Lord Kipper? You are certainly far afield from the castle as well as far afield from your own home.”
“I heard that someone struck you on the head. You saw absolutely nothing at all?”
“I heard some harsh breathing when the thunder had just boomed and the lightning had just lit up the bedchamber, and I saw a shadow of someone, wearing black. Nothing more. Why? Were you the one in my bedchamber, Lord Kipper?”
That remark sent one of his perfectly slanted eyebrows straight up. “I? No, my dear, I was sleeping, as I recall, in the arms of a very pleasant young woman in Cork.”
“I did ask, didn’t I?” Meggie looked heavenward.
“Yes, you did. You are not at all what I would expect from a vicar’s daughter.” He paused, his eyes darkened. “Thomas doesn’t deserve to be a widower when he is so young.”
Meggie laughed, just couldn’t help herself. “Indeed he doesn’t. You have been a terror, haven’t you, sir?”
“Oh yes,” he said, and looked around. “I am still able to, thank God.” He looked about for a moment, then pointed. “There was a lovely old bench here at one time. It’s quite a mess, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Ah, there’s the bench, but it’s very dirty.”
“No matter.” Lord Kipper pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off the bench. “Do sit down, my lady.”
Meggie sat.
“Does your head hurt?”
“Just a bit now. Do you know what is happening here at Pendragon, sir?”
“Call me Niles. No, I don’t.”
“Someone tried to kill me. I’ve only been here two days. Surely that’s too short a time to make anyone hate me enough to crack open my head. I have been thinking about this. Someone knew I was coming and because I was me—Meggie Sherbrooke—I was hated enough for that someone to want to kill me. Does that make sense?”
“You mean,” Lord Kipper said slowly, looking deeply into her Sherbrooke blue eyes, “that someone hated you before they even met you?”
“Or hated my family perhaps. Or the person believed Thomas would be with me, only he wasn’t. I am very worried that this person is after Thomas, not me.”
“I also heard that Madeleine wants you pregnant, by tomorrow if that’s possible. She was even mumbling about putting an aphrodisiac in your tea. She even asked me to give you advice on how to seduce Thomas if he tired after only one or two encounters.”
Meggie nearly fell off the bench she was so shocked. “I—sir, you can’t speak like that, surely. An aphrodisiac? You’re making that up just to make me turn red and stutter.”
“Oh no. Thomas’s mother, you know, she’s always told me everything, asked my advice endlessly, even things I had no interest in. She is single-minded, is Madeleine.”
“Have you been her lover, too?”
“Of course.”
Meggie slowly got to her feet. Her head was pounding. She felt light-headed. The morning sun had disappeared behind a mass of soft gray clouds. It would rain soon.
He was beside her in an instant. “Meggie, lean against me. I can see you’re not well.”
She didn’t want to. His hands were around her arms, pulling her closer, then she jerked away, fell to her knees, and vomited. There was little enough in her belly, so her body shook with dry heaves. She felt as though she were jerking apart, from the inside out. She just wanted to fall over and not move, maybe for the rest of the morning, or maybe for the entire day. The thought of her mother-in-law putting an aphrodisiac in her tea made her dry-heave some more.
She was aware that Lord Kipper was holding her hair back. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have another clean handkerchief,” he said. “Let me help you back to the castle.”
Meggie didn’t make it. They reached the entrance to the maze when she felt so dizzy she couldn’t stand up. She was shaking, her teeth chattering. She heard him say her name, then she didn’t hear anything at all.
Thomas was with William when he saw Lord Kipper striding toward them, Meggie in his arms. Thomas ran.
“I say, Thomas, what’s—”
Thomas had her in his own arms in just a moment, so scared he thought he’d choke on it.
“She vomited, then fell over, Thomas,” Lord Kipper said. “Put her to bed, my boy. I’ll fetch Dr. Pritchart.”
When Meggie awoke, it was to see her husband not two inches from her nose. He looked very worried. No, it was more. She saw a thick veil of anger in his eyes.
She raised her hand to his cheek. “Thomas,” she said, her voice as thin as gruel. “I’m all right.”
He took her hand in his and held it. “Just rest, Meggie. Be quiet. Don’t talk now. Damnation, what happened?”
“I nearly shook myself apart I got so sick, then I tottered beside Lord Kipper a bit, then just collapsed. I’m sorry, Thomas.”
“Dr. Pritchart will be here soon. Just hang on.”
“Thomas, I don’t want to die.”
His breathing hitched. He hated this, couldn’t bear it anymore. “You won’t die, Meggie, I swear it.” The stable lad had been so scared, he’d nearly followed Thomas into the bedchamber.
She closed her eyes against the pain. He held her hand, spoke nonsense to her until Dr. Pritchart arrived.
“Go away, my lord,” he said, and Thomas reluctantly left the White Room.
He heard voices coming from the drawing room. When he neared the open door, he heard his mother say, “What a weak-kneed chit. Just a small blow to the head and here she is whining and carrying on.”
Then Aunt Libby said, “I wonder if perhaps she wasn’t trying to flirt with Niles. Did she follow him into the maze? The foolish stable lad wouldn’t say anything, just that Lord Kipper had seen him watching her ladyship.”
Thomas said as he walked into the room, “This will stop right now. Enough from both of you.” He paused a moment, then attacked. “Mother, I think you’re the person who struck Meggie. You have yet to tell me why.”
Madeleine slowly rose to her feet, her face pale, her eyes darkening. “No, Thomas, I didn’t strike her.”
“Is she going to die, Thomas?”
“No, William,” he said, turning briefly to his half-brother, who’d just come into the room, “she isn’t going to die.”
Barnacle tottered into the dim drawing room. He had to yell over the sudden blast of thunder that made the crystals on the overhead chandelier shimmer and hit against each other. “My lord, Dr. Pritchart wants you upstairs for her ladyship. Oh dear, I do hope this doesn’t send her underground. I only just found her. She’s the perfect size to walk on my back.”
Thomas, who dearly loved the old man, wanted at that moment to shoot him. He was back in the White Room in not more than forty seconds. Meggie was sitting up, leaning
Dr. Pritchart, seeing that His Lordship just might leap on his bride he was so thankful, moved to block him, saying, “I have told her to remain in bed the rest of the day. We will see tomorrow how her head feels.”
Meggie jumped when more thunder rolled overhead. Rain slashed hard against the windows. “I’m all right, Thomas. Don’t be frightened.”
But he was. After he’d shown Dr. Pritchart out, he sat beside her on the bed and pulled her into his arms. He pressed his face into her hair. He kissed her temple, said low and deep into her ear, “You scared every ounce of wickedness out of me. I will become more reverent than your father. He will be so impressed with me he will ask me to give one of his sermons.”
She turned her head slightly, moving very slowly, and kissed his neck. “I should like to see you in my father’s pulpit. Please don’t lose all the wickedness, Thomas. I do like it. I can’t bear this either. Don’t leave me, please don’t.”
He closed his eyes as he held her, kissed her hair, the tip of her nose, felt the softness of her through her muslin gown. “Let me get you into your nightgown.”
27
MEGGIE WATCHED MISS Crittenden run to the end of the long kitchen, come to an almost instant stop, then wheel about and race back toward her.
“By all that’s wonderful,” Meggie said in awe to Mrs. Black, “that was amazing.”
“Demned Cat’s been acting like that since the big tom, McGuffy, went to sea with the Midland’s youngest boy, Davey,” Mrs. Black said, narrowing her eyes to better see Miss Crittenden flashing by, but it didn’t help much, and Meggie saw that it didn’t. “Running everywhere to find him, but he’s no where to be found. And now it’s just habit with her.”