Nathan listened to the clock chiming six. He sat in his favorite chair in the library he had created. A glass of sherry stood next to a decanter by his right hand. A book lay open on a table beside his left hand. Its pages were empty of conventional writing but covered in a series of raised or indented dots. It was an experiment that Nathan had been progressing for the last year, to develop a system of writing that relied not on sight, but on touch.
A man could still write while blind, provided he was dexterous enough and with the right control and concentration. But reading was impossible. Nathan reasoned that a sequence of raised or lowered dots in certain combinations could stand in for conventional Roman letters. It was an interesting project, though esoteric. Unless others were fluent in his method, he would never read a book or letter written by another using his particular system.
Now the book lay forgotten, as did the sherry. He sat with fingers steepled before him, deep in thought. Emily had not arrived as expected and with no word sent ahead to explain the delay. He wondered if Gemma’s story of an accident on the road had actually come to be. It would be an irony and a terrible one if Emily had suffered an accident as Gemma had claimed while pretending to be her.
That brought Nathan’s thoughts back to his enigmatic guest.
Beautiful. Passionate. Free and…yes, perhaps somewhat wild. Untamed might be a more accurate description. I wanted to protect her from idle gossip and worse, but when Emily does arrive, that gossip will now be far more scurrilous. The household staff will all know that Gemma was impersonating Emily Carlisle.
He wished he had taken Marshall into his confidence and let it be known among the staff that Gemma was seeking sanctuary from an intolerable home situation. But the lie had been spoken and there was no turning back the clock. Even with all staff sworn to secrecy, it would inevitably leak out. Gemma’s life would be significantly harder if those in the vicinity knew of her lie and regarded her as dishonest.
Perhaps there is a way for Gemma to remain here after Emily arrives. But no…the staff would require an explanation and then the news would eventually spread. And why would Emily feel comfortable sharing a house with a woman who had impersonated her. Walter will believe that Gemma was seeking some kind of gain from the lie, financial or otherwise. That is how his mind works.
Then there were the cousins. According to Gemma, they were possibly murderous. But, how to prove it? At least they could not force Gemma to return to them. But it galled Nathan that they were possibly denying Gemma her rightful inheritance as well as seeking to gain titles and lands that they had no right to.
So many thorny problems. Not least of which is my growing feelings for Gemma. Good Lord but that is the trickiest and most tangled of all.
His hand went to the sherry glass and he went as far as picking it up before stopping himself. The sweet scent from the glass was alluring, calling to him and promising to calm the turbulence in his mind, to tease out the knotty tangles of his thoughts. But, he resisted. Gemma drew him as no other woman had ever done. She lit up his senses, making him feel as though the time before meeting her had been a half-life, with every experience dull and lifeless.
And so, his mind turned back on itself once more. How to keep Gemma near him. An impossible problem but one he could not stop worrying about, like a dog with a bone. Then there was Emily. His duty to her and her father. Every time his thoughts wandered to Gemma from her, it brought a stab of guilt.
Another layer of guilt to add to the weight that he already carried. Guilt over his inability to save his father. Guilt that he could not devote his mind to the missing Emily Carlisle. Guilt over his burgeoning feelings for Gemma, set against the demands of proper behavior becoming of a Ramsay.
Finally, he threw his head back, letting out a long sigh. Then he reached above and behind his head for the silk rope of the bellpull, just beside his right ear. A few sharp tugs would alert Marshall.
The butler arrived after a minute or two.
“I wish to write a letter, Marshall,” Nathan said.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Marshall intoned smoothly.
Nathan listened as the butler went to the bureau that stood to one side of the room, in between tall, hardwood bookcases that had been varnished to a deep, ruby red. When he heard the butler take a seat, Nathan began to dictate.
“To my solicitor, Master Harold Mason of Castlegate, York. My dear sir, I should like to consult with you on a matter of some urgency and seek an appointment at your earliest convenience. I would be happy to travel to your office or host you at Hutton if you happen to be in the vicinity. Monday morning, that is four days from the date of this missive, should suit me I would imagine. Please let me know by return of post when would be suitable. Yours etc.”
He listened for a moment to the scratching of the pen, knowing that Marshall employed his own cipher to increase the speed of his dictation. Seconds later, the scratching stopped. Nathan thought for a moment. He wished to write to Walter Carlisle as well as to Emily at Scarborough to discover the reason for the delay in her arrival, if such a reason could be found out. But, that would lead to Marshall knowing of the subterfuge.
Instead, an idea occurred to him that would allow him to ascertain what had become of Emily while keeping Gemma’s secret for a few days more.
“That is the only missive I wish to send, but I do have another task for you,” Nathan said.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Marshall replied.
“I want you to pick out a reliable man. One who can ride. Have him ride to Falsgrave House in Scarborough. Maps and directions can be found in the library here.”
“I believe I know the man I will select, Your Grace. A native of Whitby and familiar with the locale. He will find his way to Master Carlisle’s house with little trouble,” Marshall said.
“Capital. Emily has neglected to bring a number of items and I wish them brought here. Pen a note for him to carry identifying himself and explaining that he acts on my instructions. The staff at Falsgrave should be familiar with my seal if it is marked on the note.”
Marshall indicated his acceptance of the instructions. It was necessary from time to time for Nathan to sign documents with the seal of the Ramsay family. He kept a signet ring locked in a drawer for just that purpose. His father had worn it but Nathan feared such things becoming hopelessly lost were it to slip from his finger. Sending a man to Walter Carlisle’s home would require him to travel the same road that Emily should, or would, be taking.
If she had been waylaid in some way, the man would find her and bring her to safety. If she had not yet set out, his instructions would seem odd, but Nathan would explain that a number of items had been sent on ahead and he had been made aware of some omissions. It was plausible enough. Or he could have the dresses that had been sent on ahead of Emily moved and claim they never arrived.
Lord, what tangled webs we weave. One lie gives birth to another until I am contorting myself to try and keep track of them all.
“Be sure that the man is level-headed and practical. The roads are bad at the moment, look at what happened to Lady Emily. If he comes across any party on the road in need of help, I should like him to give that his priority.”
Nathan could almost hear the question in Marshall’s mind. He could not understand why Nathan would order his servant to involve himself in another’s business. But he was a paragon of a butler and would obey without question. That was all Nathan needed.
