It was all quite ghastly, perhaps the more so because the whole family remained as cheerful as ever, as though nothing had happened, as though they had not all just made the discovery that they were living among a gang of ruthless smugglers and that her life was in danger if she could not persuade Percy,her lover,to go away and forget about his campaign to rid his land of the scourge. She had no doubt that everyone knew she had been accused of being his lover, even though she had not told the ladies and was quite sure Cousin Adelaide would not have done so. Perhaps none of the gentlemen had said anything to the ladies either, but they were not stupid. The letter had threatened her harm if she did not get him to leave. Why her? The answer must surely be obvious.
And through it all Imogen missed him dreadfully. There was no way, of course, that their affair could continue while she remained at the hall. But even if she was able to return home within the next few days, some of the new situation would not change. Everyone nowknewor suspected. It would be sordid to continue. It had not seemed sordid before, even though perhaps it had been.
Their affair, her little vacation from her life, was over. It had ended quite abruptly and long before she was ready. But perhaps it was as well. She had been enjoying it far too much. And her feelings had become far too deeply involved. It was as well that it end now before she became even more deeply entangled.
But oh, the pain of it.
The end of her affair felt in some ways more dreadful than the terrible threat of that letter, even though it had revealed that someoneknewand was prepared to use that knowledge quite ruthlessly. It was even worse to know that there was some connection between now andthen. Those events of ten years ago had seemed only very sad at the time, but they might well have been horribly sinister. Ten years was a long time. But she was as sure as she could be that the person who had writtenthisletter had also writtenthoseearlier ones.
She was badly frightened. Not just for herself—she was being very closely protected—but for Percy, who was pursuing the matter quite aggressively. She was terrified for him. They had killed Dicky’s valet. She was convinced of that now, though it had never occurred to her at the time.But why?And they had broken Colin Bains’s legs.
And yet, all mingled in with the terror, perhaps even surpassing it, was the pain of the abrupt ending of a love affair.
22
Anger became a permanent state for Percy, though he kept it under control as he continued to mingle with his family and friends. He avoided being alone with Imogen. He had asked his uncles and his friends to keep an eye on her, and they did. Not that they had needed telling. Neither had the aunts and female cousins and younger male cousins, who had been informed about the situation, though they had not been shown the letter. They closed about her, the lot of them, like the petals about the core of a rosebud.
The bulk of Percy’s anger was directed against himself. He had put Imogen at risk in more ways than one when he had been self-indulgent enough to begin an affair with her. And making an open declaration of war against smuggling on his property had no doubt been rash and ill considered.
He deserved to be horsewhipped.
Unfortunately, he could not go back. One never could. He could not relive the past three weeks and make different decisions. Neither could he relive the past ten years. He could only move forward.
He missed Imogen with an ache of longing that was almost welcome. He deserved every pang and worse.
His determination to get to the bottom of things in response to that letter had met with some frustration. James Mawgan had a cottage up behind the stables, in a little cluster of such houses. He had not been home when Percy called there with Knorr on the Saturday afternoon. It was Mr. Mawgan’s half day, a neighbor had explained after curtsying to Percy, and he sometimes went to see his mam.
He was not there on Sunday either, a full day off for most of the outdoor workers. And on Monday he rode off early with another of the gardeners to see about getting some new bulbs and seedlings for the flower beds and kitchen gardens.
“Finally,” Knorr commented dryly, “the man is doing something to earn his salary. I’ll collar him when he gets back, my lord.”
After luncheon, Percy and a group of the younger cousins, including Meredith and Geoffrey, climbed to the top of the rocks behind the house, where they were rewarded with a brisk wind and scudding clouds across a blue expanse of sky and a magnificent view in all four directions. It would not have surprised Percy if someone had told him that on a really clear day one could see Wales to the north and Ireland to the west and France to the south.
And it had grabbed at something in him.His heart?Should it not be turning his knees to jelly?
Geoffrey was running along the top, his arms stretched to the sides, a racing yacht screeching into the wind. Gregory was in hot pursuit.
Evil could not be allowed to continue thriving here, Percy thought, like a cancerous growth upon the body of his own people. Itwouldnot be allowed.
Mr. Knorr was awaiting him in the visitors’ salon, Crutchley informed him when they returned to the house.
Mawgan was in there too.
“Ah,” Percy said as the butler closed the door behind him, “I trust you will soon have the flower beds blazing with splendor, Mawgan?”
“It is my plan, my lord,” Mawgan said.
“Good,” Percy said. “I shall look forward to seeing it through spring and summer and autumn.”
There! That was a gauntlet flung down between them. Whether he really would stay was uncertain. But it was as well that those who wanted him gone believe that he was planning to stay, that his resolve had not been shaken by any threat.
“Tell me, Mawgan,” Percy said, “Are you a strong swimmer?”
The man looked a bit mystified. “You have to be if you are a fisherman,” he said.
“But you could not save one man who fell overboard?” Percy asked. “I do not imagine the sea was particularly rough. As an experienced fisherman you would not have been out if it had been, would you? Certainly not with an inexperienced guest.”
“He fought me,” Mawgan said. “The silly bugger. He panicked.”
