Chapter Seven

The trip to the duke of Mountebank's home two days later and been a welcome distraction to Meredith. What with all the planning and packing, she had barely been given enough time to consider her liaison with Jack, but at night when she found herself alone in her bed, she had thought of little else.

Jack's words had repeated in her mind, echoing throughout her heart. I don't care much about things that have nothing to do with me and if you're worried that I might not feel the same because of something that happened in your past, understand that it's not possible. Had he truly meant that? She could barely hope, and yet, she certainly wished he did, but then what could possibly come of it? Meredith was still very much married to someone else and despite all of Sarah's insistence that her marriage was null and void, not even her sister could break the law of the land.

There was no point in pretending that she and Jack could be anything more than friends. But, during the quiet, lonely hours between sunset and sunrise, Meredith hadn't been able to stop herself from imagining a life where Jack could court her.

It had been a tantalizing dream. Jack would come to call on her and there would be a veiled attempt to proceed with caution, but they would sneak away from prying eyes and melt into each other, just like they had in the stables. Jack would touch her, sending a trail of heat along her skin wherever his fingers went and he would kiss away all her fears she had about Clyde reappearing in her life. No. Not in this fantasy. No, Clyde simply didn't exist and she and Jack would simply go about life in the simplest, sweetest sort of way.

But it was only a dream.

She needed to be pragmatic. This trip to Dragmoor was where her attention needed to be. While a part of her was excited to mingle and dance, as it had been so long since she had, another part of her was suspicious. After overhearing a conversation between Simon and Sarah about certain gentlemen that might make a good match for her the day before they left, Meredith was convinced that her sister had decided to sponsor the event simply for her to meet a husband.

But it didn't make any sense. Sarah knew she couldn't marry anyone. She would be a bigamist! So why go through all this trouble?

It was a question that plagued Meredith the entire journey to Mountebank's home and when their carriage finally reached the ducal lands, she was stunned.

Surrounded by rolling hills and valleys, Dragmoor Manor sat at the peak of a large knoll, a vast home that commanded dominance over the neighboring lands and forests that edged the estate. Evergreen trees that had been planted purposely to make the park appear more settled in nature than the farmland that dominated the valleys around it and lined the long, crushed stone drive that led to the manor.

The house was built with cream-colored stones, set in a large square face, flanked by two shorter but longer wings set off on either side of the main building. Meredith wondered how many windows there were as the late summer sun reflected off each one, shining like gold coins dropping from one's hand as the carriage carried them forward. It looked like a fairytale, and as the carriage drove down the main drive, her view of the recently harvested wheatfields switched to that of the manor.

Meredith glanced at her sister and brother-in-law who sat across from her in the carriage. They were holding each other's hands, each peering out the window themselves. She shifted and noticed that Daniel was sleeping soundly against her shoulder. It had been a comfortable trip, but she knew they all were eager to get out and stretch their legs.

As their vehicle reached the house, Meredith peered back out the window and felt her stomach clench. To her dismay, she saw several carriages lined up ahead of them, waiting to reach the entrance. That only confirmed her suspicions.

"So many guests?" she asked as her gaze fell on Sarah. "Why?"

"Oh, Mountebank invited a few personal friends. I think he wants to show off his new bride," Sarah said, waving her hand as she spoke. "He seemed quite taken with her during their wedding. Really, he seemed infatuated their entire courtship."

"All three months of it," Simon said.

Meredith gazed at Simon.

"Do you not think three months is a sufficient amount of time to fall in love?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what did you mean?" Sarah asked, her head tilting.

Simon exhaled, seemingly uneager to discuss the matter.

"I only meant that three months is a short time to know someone. To discover their likes and dislikes, their moods, their true self. I think a longer courtship may have been beneficial to Mountebank, that's all."

"I think you can know a lot about someone in three months," Sarah challenged. "I knew everything about you the moment we met."

One of Simon's brows lifted as he grinned at his wife and Meredith leaned slightly forward to listen with acute fascination. She had never actually heard how her sister met Simon, knowing only that it had been at a ball, though neither ever specified who had hosted it.

"Did you?" she asked Sarah.

"She absolutely did not," Simon said, answering Meredith, before returning his attention back to his wife. "But regardless, I was being my genuine self when we first met and every day thereafter, I might add."

"And you do not believe the duchess has been genuine?" Sarah asked, rotating her upper body to face him as her hand fell away from his.

"I didn't say that either," Simon said. His eyes moved to Daniel, seemingly to make sure that the boy was asleep. When he was convinced, he twisted back to Meredith. "All I'm saying is that people can spend years pretending to be something they're not. Three months being on your best behavior is hardly a feat, especially when it's to get something you want."

"So, do you think Justine only married your brother to become a duchess?" Sarah asked incredulously. "Really, Simon, that's a terrible thing to assume."

"You didn't think it was so farfetched before their wedding."

Meredith focused on her sister.

"Really?" she asked.

Sarah had the decency to look ashamed as she glared at Simon.

"I don't see the point in bringing all this up," Sarah said as she glanced at Daniel. Meredith was waiting for an explanation and soon Sarah rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. "In my defense, they hadn't been married yet. But they are now and there's no reason to surround their relationship with doubt."

"But why did you doubt it?" Meredith asked.

"It was something Simon said to me last spring," Sarah said, her brow furrowing. "He told me that the duke was glad that I had championed Justine, only I never had."

Meredith blinked.

"She lied?"

"Yes."

Why didn't you tell the duke?"

"I had planned to, but then they seemed so happy together and really, what did I know about their courtship?" Sarah sighed. "I didn't want to disrupt their happiness, knowing how dreadful it could be to be separated from the one you care for."

Simon reached for Sarah's hand once more and squeezed it. A small smile curved her lips and Meredith felt suddenly as if she were intruding on a private moment.

"Perhaps you are right," Simon said softly. "I'm sure I'm only being suspicious."

"No, you're probably correct," Sarah countered. "Three months is a drop in a bucket compared to a lifetime of matrimony. It's not nearly enough time to get to know someone."

The corner of Meredith's mouth pulled up as she bent her head, trying to hide her smile. These two were so sweetly in love that they could barely argue properly without championing each other. After a moment, she gave a tiny cough and they both seemed to snap out of their daze for one another.

"I'm sure it will be a fine weekend," Sarah said. "And I plan on befriending Justine, truly, as we are all family now."

"Yes, so will I. I'm sure it will be a wonderful time." Meredith nodded just as Simon moved, readjusting his position. For the briefest of moments, a familiar aroma filled her nostrils and she inhaled. It was the same scent that clung to Jack. "Carbolic soap."

Both Sarah and Simon glanced at her.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Carbolic soap," she repeated. "It's a distinct scent, isn't it?"

"I've tried to get him to use lye," Sarah said, patting her skirts, seemingly uninterested in the topic. "But he refuses."

"How do you know about it?" Simon asked.

"I bought some when I first moved to Bristol. From a vendor during the mayday fair, just outside of the city. Remember we went there, Sarah?" Her sister nodded. "The seller said it was definitively the best soap, but I found the scent too strong. Like leather. I put it away, but I can't seem to stop smelling it."

"Ah, well, I'm to blame for that, I'm sure," Simon confessed. "The nuns growing up made Jack and I use it all the time. Supposedly it was good enough to clean wounds and Jack used it during his fighting days. There are no doubt finer, costlier soaps, but I find I use the carbolic bar from time to time. I'm sorry if the scent offends you."

"Oh, no, it doesn't," she shook her head, finally understanding. Jack must still use it, too.

Lost in her own thoughts for a moment, Meredith barely noticed a look pass between the two, but then Daniel began to stir next to her. He stretched his arms and yawned.

"Are we there yet?" he asked.

"Just about," Sarah said, peering back out the window. "My, there is a long line of carriages."

"I hope there are some people my age," Daniel said.

"Mountebank said there's a boy just your age who lives at Dragmoor. The new vicar and his wife have several children as well. They'll be in attendance," Simon said. "I believe there's also an older girl from a neighboring family, the Smyths."

"No, thank you," Daniel said under his breath, causing the three adults to smile.

But Meredith's smirk was fleeting as she turned her attention back to the house. There were so many people climbing up the wide, stone stairs that led into Dragmoor. It made her feel worried. Surely someone here would know something about her history? And yet how could anyone? It had never been an issue before, Sarah had seen to that. Meredith had never dealt with anyone whispering even an inkling about her or her past and yet, she couldn't help but feel as if her time was running out. Someone, somewhere was bound to discover her truth and when it happened, she shouldn't want to be caught off guard.

As the carriage came to a full stop, Meredith tried to push her worrisome thoughts away. They were quick to exit the vehicle and were met by a footman in full black and gold livery, down to the silk stockings.

Sarah and Simon made their way up the long stone steps, followed by Meredith and Daniel. A large, double slab doorway opened just as they reached the top step.

The interior of the home was grand indeed, with ancient tapestries hanging down the stone walls. A grand, double stone staircase stood several yards away, flanking the foyer on both sides. Meredith was impressed by the grandeur and twirled around as she eventually followed Simon and Sarah into the home, gazing up at the tall walls as she did. As she removed her bonnet, a masculine voice suddenly echoed throughout the foyer, causing her to start.

"Welcome to Dragmoor."

Turning around, Meredith saw the mirror opposite of her brother-in-law standing before them. The Duke of Mountebank was a tall and broad chested man, with dark hair, a prominent nose, and eyes that seemed to be a mix of every color. Nothing would have been remarkably interesting about his appearance, except for the fact that he was a different version of Simon. Where Simon's hair was chestnut, the duke's was coffee. Where Simon's eyes were grey, the duke's were multiple colored, green, blue, brown and even gold in a certain light. It was obvious that the two were related and Meredith couldn't help but wonder how Jack must have felt when he first met the duke. Had he noticed the resemblance? And had it bothered him?

"Damien," Simon said, stepping forward to shake the duke's hand. "Good to see you."

A bemused expression passed over the duke's face at the gesture, but then took his hand and patted Simon on the back with the other.

"You as well," he said before addressing the rest of their party. "As it is all of you."

"Your Grace," Meredith and Sarah said in unison and curtsied as Daniel bowed.

"A pleasure, Mrs. Archer, Miss Taylor, Master Cummings." He bowed, facing Daniel. "I saw Bennet not too long ago headed for the back terrace. I believe he was hoping to go fishing. He was carrying a rod."

"Who's Bennet?"

"One of Mr. Brown's sons, the new vicar. If you head straight back—" Daniel was off like a shot. "The stream is down the north valley!" The duke smirked. "Lively boy, isn't he?"

"Very," Sarah said, smiling after her son. She focused on the duke. "Thank you so much for having us, your grace."

"Of course. And please, there is no need to refer to me as your grace. We are family after all." He cleared his throat and continued. "I hope the ride wasn't too uncomfortable?"

"It was most enjoyable," Sarah said, gazing around. "Where is your duchess, your grace?"

Sarah was turned away from the duke, but Meredith saw a shadow pass over his face. Though he barely let a pause pass before his response, Meredith noticed.

"She has taken a midday ride," he said matter-of-factly. "She is terribly fond of riding."

"How lovely," Sarah said as she came around and took Meredith's arm in hers. "We're most excited to see her. However, I would like to freshen up a bit."

"Ah, yes. Well, Buckley will show you to your rooms," the duke said, waving his hand to a dark haired, stoic butler dressed in livery. "And, Simon, would you care to discuss the deal with MacDougall?"

"Yes, actually."

While Meredith and Sarah followed the underbutler up the grand staircase, Simon accompanied his brother further into the house's first floor. It was interesting to see Simon excited to speak with the duke, and once again Meredith wondered how Jack would feel if he was present.

Jack had given Simon a definitive no about attending Dragmoor and while Meredith couldn't blame him, she was sorry that he wouldn't be attending. She hadn't realized that there was going to be so many people attending and her worry must have shown on her face because Sarah squeezed her hand.

"Do not be afraid, dear. It will be a wonderful weekend."

"Yes, I suppose," Meredith said. "The duke seems to be a very gracious man. Especially one for his position."

Most dukes carried themselves with an air of conceit and arrogance. In fact, most peers were self-important, according to Meredith's interactions with them. The duke of Dragmoor however, seemed oddly civil.

"Yes, I noticed that about him the first time we met. Mountebank is far more courteous than one would expect from a man like him. But I believe there is some underlying thing about him we do not understand." Meredith nodded, wondering if perhaps the duke took his role as a gentleman far more seriously than most and therefore made it a point to never make anyone feel inferior, when so many other peers felt it was their duty to do so. "I'm curious, though," Sarah said beneath her breath. "Did you notice the way he paused when I asked about the duchess?"

Evidently, Meredith wasn't the only one who had noticed.

"I did."

"Something is not right," Sarah said, peering over her shoulder. "I should very much like to know what's going on."

"Of course, you do. You're addict to gossip."

"I never gossip, my dear. I simply acquire information," Sarah said, while Meredith rolled her eyes. "I should find out tonight at dinner and if not, the ball will take place tomorrow night."

"There's going to be a ball?" Meredith repeated, worriedly. "Are there enough people to have a ball?"

"Well, some neighboring guests will be attending tomorrow evening, after the hunt and with the long-distance guests who are staying at Dragmoor, I believe there is enough people, but my dear, it's hardly seventy people."

"Oh, good heavens," Meredith said, feeling queasy. "Sarah, why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Forcing me into society all of a sudden? The balls and the dinner parties. Why?"

Sarah stopped as the underbutler continued. She spoke to her sister, her voice low.

"Meredith, I'm not doing this to annoy or upset you. I just want you to be happy."

"But I am happy. Why won't you believe me?"

"Because I can see it in your eyes that you are not," Sarah said, her voice suddenly worrisome, if not hard. Meredith glanced at her. "I know I am pushy and rather arrogant when it comes to doing things in my own way, but it's not because I'm simply meddlesome." She took Meredith's other hand into hers. "You used to be so excited about life, Meredith. When we were girls, there seemed to always be a smile on your face and you were fearless. Even more than I. But when the situation happened, well," she shook her head, eyes dropping, "I felt like I had let you down."

"Let me down?" Meredith repeated lowly. "How?"

"I left. Robert and I were so eager to marry and even with father ill, I insisted on a fast wedding. I always felt as though I hastened his decline and then you were left alone, with only Mama and Beatrice. It was no wonder you ran away with, well, you know who," she said, refusing to speak his name. "And I always felt that I was to blame for it and thus, all the unhappiness that followed. When you came to live at Hardwick House, I had hoped to make amends by introducing you to society, but once again, my feelings came first and I married Simon before I was able to help you make a match." A deep crease lined her forehead as she frowned. "I'm sure I'm at fault for Mama's decline as well. Poor Beatrice must be at her wits end by now."

Meredith stared at her sister, surprised. She had never believed that Sarah had felt so responsible and held such guilt. She squeezed her sister's hands.

"Mama's mental state is not your fault and while I do believe Beatrice would be happier outside of Mama's house, there's no helping the situation. As for this guilt over my actions, there is no need. My choices were my own, Sarah. I never blamed you for any of it."

"You should have, though."

"No. I blame myself for acting without thinking of the consequences. And I blame Clyde for his deceit, but never you." She paused. "And you really don't need to try and make amends by sponsoring dinner parties and balls just so that I might find a spouse. I am truly happy with my life how it is."

"Are you?" Sarah asked earnestly as they continued to walk, the underbutler several yards ahead of them. "Because sometimes when I see you, you have a far off look in your eye and I wonder how you can possibly be happy. Not that I think you dislike living with Simon and Daniel and I, but then there was all this talk about investing your money and I thought you might wish to move away from us and—"

"Sarah," Meredith said with gentle surprise, shaking her head. "I don't ever wish to leave you."

"I know. I'm being ridiculous," Sarah said, her eyes becoming uncharacteristically misty. "I shouldn't be bothering you with my insecurities. Goodness, my emotions seem to be quite out of my control lately. I don't know what is the matter with me."

Meredith wondered if perhaps Sarah shouldered too much blame for things beyond her control. She leaned over and bumped Sarah's shoulder playfully with her own.

"It's quite all right. I understand. And as to my investment with Mr. Archer, well, I was just hoping to earn a little extra income so that if I wanted something, I could provide it."

"Oh, but you know Simon and I—"

"Yes, yes, I do know that and I appreciate it, but you could hardly expect my pride to be intact if I ask you for everything I wanted. Investing my own earned income was a way around that."

"I suppose," Sarah said, yet she didn't sound convinced.

"If you were in my position, Sarah, you would undoubtedly feel the same."

Sarah was hesitant to agree, but she nodded.

"Yes, of course you are right," she sighed. "Still, I hope you aren't displeased with me for dragging you here. I honestly only wanted to help and I thought a ball might be pleasant. You used to love to dance."

It was true. Meredith's aversion to crowds had only developed in the last few years and she knew why. She was terrified of running into a member of the Peterson family, or Clyde himself. Her anxiety had grown unchecked for years and by the time she was aware of it, it had seemingly grown out of control.

And was she truly happy to be living her quiet, solitary life? She didn't know, not anymore.

"Mountebank doesn't know, does he?" Meredith asked once she and Sarah were alone in her room. "You didn't tell him?"

"No," Sarah said. "Simon is aware, of course, but only out of necessity. I wouldn't want to cross paths with the Petersons either. Which is why I asked to see the guest list before we accepted to come here." Sarah smiled. "We'll protect you, Meredith. Always. But I wish you would let yourself believe me."

"I do," she said earnestly. "I just wish you didn't have to worry about me."

"Well, you do worry enough for the both of us," Sarah said, putting her arm around her sister as she squeezed. "Be at ease. No one here knows anything."

Sarah left to go to her own room to freshen up and as the door closed behind her, Meredith wondered if that was only half the issue. Even if no one here knew about her marriage to Clyde, the possibility of her finding some kind of romantic partner was moot. She was still married and even if Clyde wrote to her this very moment promising to never to show up again, she was without her virtue and that alone would be hurdle enough to overcome.

Deciding to ready herself for dinner, Meredith tried to think of something pleasant while she dressed, only to find that her thoughts kept drifting to Jack. Oh, how she wished he were here. If Jack was waiting for her at the bottom of those curved steps, she knew she would feel a different kind of jittery nervousness. But she would also feel the unwavering strength of him and she knew it would give her strength as well.

Sighing and trying to push off feelings of self-pity, Meredith picked out a cream and navy blue gown with short, double puffed sleeves and a flouncy tiered skirt. Soon after ringing for a maid, two young women knocked at her door and entered, helping her with her hair as well as lacing the back of her gown. Soon, she was snuggly fitted, with her hair perfectly pinned up, while wearing a delicate gold chain Sarah had loaned to her.

Dinner was a surprisingly busy affair. Meredith had waited for Sarah and Simon to be ready before heading down to the parlor, where the guests were served refreshments as they waited for dinner to be announced. There were twenty other couples that were staying at Dragmoor, including two unattached ladies and four unattached gentlemen, for a grand total of fifty guests as well as the duke.

Notably absent from the parlor, however, was the duchess. The duke made the excuse that she wasn't feeling well, but Meredith could see the tension he held in his body. It seemed that there was something going on between the duke and his new wife, but no one was able to gather what exactly.

Meredith couldn't help but drift towards the duke, feeling somewhat curious about him. He was technically Jack's stepbrother, but the two hardly ever spoke. Still, as Sarah introduced her to a number of the guests that her sister had known during her time in London, Meredith felt sorry for the duke. It mustn't have been easy to host alone.

As Sarah made her introductions, Meredith could barely remember every name, although her sister was particular to introduce her to two gentlemen. The first was the second son of the Earl of Anmore, the honorable Alistair Blake. He was a very tall, thin man with thick hair, kind eyes and an attentive manner about him. The second man was Sir Rodger Kent, a mature, stoic gentleman who had been a colonel during the Anglo-Burmese War five years earlier. He had been knighted for his success on the battlefield and while he had come from a perfectly middleclass family, his star had rose in London and was a very sought-after guest.

Of course, Meredith had read about Sir Kent in the paper, but had never thought to actually meet him. He was shorter than Mr. Blake, but more proportional and while he didn't smile at her, she believed that he possessed a kind disposition.

A young lady with bright red hair and a wide, friendly smile had been trying desperately to introduce herself to Meredith just as a footman appeared and announced that dinner was served. While everyone was paired up and escorted out of the parlor, Meredith was surprised to see that the same eager, redheaded woman was sat across from her at the dinner table. She wore a pale yellow gown and a pair of pearl earbobs that shook every time she moved her head. Which she did often. She seemed rather excited, like a kitten playing with a string. Meredith smiled at her when their eyes met. That seemed to be all the reason she needed to lean forward and introduce herself.

"Hello," she said as the gentleman next to her turned to discuss something with the lady on his right.

They were sat at the far end of the table, being neither titled nor positioned. Still, Meredith was grateful to be so far removed from the head of the table, where most people's attention gathered.

"Hello," Meredith said.

"You're Miss Meredith Taylor, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes," Meredith said. "And you are?"

"Miss Dawn Trowbridge. My mama is friends with your sister," she said, nodding down the table.

Meredith saw that a redheaded woman was speaking adamantly with a smiling Sarah.

"It seems so," Meredith said. "Sarah has a vast number of friends."

"Even now that she's remarried," Dawn said.

Meredith had the idea that perhaps she was referring to her sister's supposed step down in society, but the eager smile didn't leave Dawn's face. In truth, she just seemed genuinely interested.

"Yes. She married Mr. Simon Archer not six months ago."

"And he is an acquaintance of the duke?"

"Yes."

"How fascinating," Dawn said. "I met your sister a few years ago. It's only my first year out in society. I doubt she would remember me, but I wonder if I should reintroduce myself."

"I'm sure she would remember you," Meredith said. "Sarah remembers everyone."

"Fascinating," she said again as a troupe of servants entered the room and served the first course.

A feast of the finest autumnal dishes was set before the guests. Cream of asparagus soup, parsnips and turnips au gratin, herb encrusted venison, roasted pheasant and more. The smells all complimented one another and Meredith was surprised that she was able to swallow a dozen or so bites before her nerves stopped her.

When dinner was over, she decided to retire instead of having tea and was grateful to have a full night's sleep ahead of her, except that just as she laid her head on her pillow, all the tiredness she had felt left her body and she laid awake for hours before she was able to fall into a fitful sleep.

She dreamt of walking in a forest—no, running. At first, she was sure she was searching for someone, Jack perhaps, only the entire atmosphere was heavy and dark. Soon, she realized she was running away from someone and was desperate to reach a place ahead, almost as if she were racing against someone or even time itself, but her life depended on it.

Before she could reach her destination, though, the darkness encompassed her and she heard quite vividly Clyde's voice.

"I'm coming."