Emily ran down the stairs and wrapped an arm around Gaby’s shoulders. “You, sir, are the cad. How dare you speak to Gabriella like this? Can’t you see the pain you are causing her?”
Iris’s voice broke into their standoff. “Lord Langsford, do not believe this pretender; the baroness leads you astray to further her own agenda. You are being used, sir.”
Jack spun. “I am being used, but it is not only by the baroness. How could I have been so blind to put my faith in a woman who cloaked herself in mystery and kept so many secrets?”
Beauford took advantage of the focus being directed elsewhere. “I must see Cynthia. I care not what barbs you fools hurl at one another, and I have already expended too much effort on your meaningless blather.”
He ran up the stairs but was momentarily prevented from his goal by Jenee’s staying hand. “Monsieur, you will find Miss Maxwell’s room at the third door on the left. I pray your conversation will illuminate the answers you seek and bring you to your senses.”
Iris nodded. “You made an evil alliance with an unscrupulous woman.” She pointed at the baroness. “She will destroy not only you but all whom you hold dear. You will lose your soul and whatever happiness you might have known. Choose wisely, my lord.”
The baroness’s shrill voice broke in, and she looked from Beauford to Jack with indignation. “You cannot allow this scoundrel to sully my niece’s reputation more than he already has. These people know nothing of my intentions or the young woman I protect.”
Emily kissed Gabriella’s temple and whispered, “You will be fine, my friend. Trust me.” She released Gaby and called up the stairs, “Lord Broome, allow me to take you to Cynthia and act as chaperone.” She sneered at the baroness. “I believe that should satisfy your concerns, baroness.”
“Well—”
“As I surmised, you are not of pure intent, but I digress. If it is Cynthia’s reputation that you are truly concerned with, you should be satisfied that I will stand watch.” Emily ignored the baroness and held out her hand to Beauford to shake. “I am Lady Emily Remington, the Marchioness of Danbury.” She nodded toward Colin. “My husband, Colin Remington, the marquess, will readily agree that my presence should provide ample propriety and assuage the baroness’s concerns. Baroness, I assure you Cynthia will be carefully tended to by me, and Lord Broome will have no opportunity to besmirch her.” She turned to Beauford. “That is if it is acceptable to you, sir.”
“Yes, yes, let’s get on with it,” Beauford said. “I’ve wasted too much time already listening to this farcical cast of characters. You, my lady, are a breath of fresh air.”
Emily quickly ascended the staircase and, without a look back, continued down the hall.
“Beauford,” Jack yelled up the stairs, and Beauford halted and turned to face his cousin. “You will leave this house immediately after seeing Miss Maxwell or suffer the consequences.”
“I will take my chances.” Beauford turned and was gone, leaving everyone in a state of shock.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Maremma, Italy
October 21, 1902
Emily gave herhusband a conspiratorial wink as she passed him, and received an imperceptible nod. Never was Emily more effective than when she took up a cause or helped a friend. Under the direst circumstances, she took the reins wholeheartedly with intense focus. She projected a winsome charm that could tame a lion, slay a monster, or even change the course of history.
Most assuredly, she would need every bit of ingenuity to convince Cynthia that she had the best intentions. It was imperative Cynthia break free of the talons of her aunt, the baroness, gain control of her inheritance, and marry Beauford.
The thin line Emily must tread without falling made the task more difficult. She could not reveal too much of the paranormal pitfalls at play. In such a short window of time, it would be impossible to convince Cynthia and Beauford they were being used by a sorceress. Forget about convincing them of the existence of time travel, painting portals, and the real identity of the baroness, a time traveler who preyed on the goodwill of others—if Iris was right, and Emily had no reason to doubt her. She had been spot-on until now, and the baroness likely followed the same practices the Nazi time traveler had used in London and Paris. The Countess Catarina di Farnese had probably murdered both her husband, the baron, and Cynthia’s father to wrest control of her fortune and use her as a pawn in her game to gain possession ofIl Letoand control the time portals.
Jack was another matter altogether. His obsession with Beauford had clouded his reason. When he vehemently turned on Gaby, he fell into the baroness’s trap.
To see her friend suffering had awoken Emily’s mother-tigress instinct. She would be damned if she’d let Jack get away with demeaning Gabriella. Emily had him dead to rights, and he would have to be made to see his error, or else he would lose the love Emily believed he desired.
She would deal with Jack later. This moment required her full attention.
She could hear Beauford’s footsteps behind her as he shadowed her down the hallway. Having reached Cynthia’s door, she rapped softly. “Cynthia, it is Emily. May I come in?” There was no sense in alerting Cynthia that she had not come alone. Far better to hold the upper hand of surprise and let the moment play out. Much would be learned in Cynthia’s reaction to Beauford.
The door opened to a dark room, where the heavy brocaded drapery was pulled shut. Emily pushed the door wide, giving Beauford entry. “Cynthia, my darling.” His voice was tender and filled with affection. He entered but a few feet and, like Emily, needed a second for his eyes to adjust to the dim light.
Propped on a mountain of pillows lay Cynthia. She blinked rapidly as if not believing her eyes, and then, like a sprite with no injury at all, she bounded from the bed, running into Beauford’s arms.
Case closed—actions speak louder than words.
“Beauford!” she cried, her joy echoing through the bedroom. “You came!”
“Of course I came. Did you not receive my letter? I’ve been such a fool. Forgive me?” Beauford kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, and her forehead.
“I thought you’d forsaken me.” Cynthia gazed into his eyes adoringly. “My aunt insisted I was compromised, and you didn’t care. She said my only chance to keep my dignity and not sully my father’s name was to marry Jack. She whisked me away from London and brought me here to Lady’s Darling’s villa, intending to marry me off as quickly as possible to Jack.”
