Susan Krinard - Lord of Legends

Mariah removed her hat. “I hope it is not an inconvenience.”

“An inconvenience?” He chuckled and waved her toward one of the hard, straight-backed chairs. “After your recent generosity, your coming could never be an inconvenience.”

Mariah felt far too agitated to sit or bother with the niceties. “I hope you are prepared to listen to a very strange tale,” she said.

Ware peered at her with interest. “Has this anything to do with your mysterious request for assistance?”

“Yes.”

“Will you have tea?”

“I’ve only just had luncheon.”

“With Lady Westlake?”

“How did you guess?”

“Something about the look on your face. And Lady Westlake holds you in particular fascination, you know.”

“She seems to share the dowager’s assumptions about my … my supposedly bad behavior.”

“You do know why, don’t you?”

Mariah was in no mood for further unpleasant revelations. “Sinjin …”

“She’s been in love with Donnington for years.”

“But Lady Westlake is married!”

“You’re being naïve again, Merry. There are some who actually do ignore their marriage vows.”

“You mean that she and my husband have been … they’ve—”

“Not as far as I am aware. But that doesn’t keep Pamela from hoping.”

Mariah played nervously with the hem of her riding jacket, striving to hide her agitation. “Do you know her well, Sinjin?”

He sighed. “Do take a seat.”

She sat, and he did the same, drumming his fingers on the table beside his chair. “She’s frequently at Marlborough House,” he said. “One could scarcely miss her. And the Viscounts Westlake have been our neighbors since my grandfather’s time. Pamela has recently become a great friend of my mother’s.” His face settled into a scowl. “I don’t think Donnie has seen her since well before your marriage, but you’d do well to stay away from her, Merry.”

“I may avoid her , but not your mother. She still hopes to discover grounds for her dislike of me. And if matters at Donbridge proceed without your assistance, I fear she may get her wish.”

Sinjin started. “ What matters?” he demanded. “Mariah, what have you done?”

“Nothing very bad, unless you consider discovering a hidden prisoner on the estate an evil on my part.”

He laughed. “I beg your pardon?”

“I have found a man at Donbridge, imprisoned in a folly.”

Sinjin leaned back in his chair and reached for the crushed cigar, which was quite beyond recovery.

“Get another, if you like,” Mariah said. “I’m used to my father’s cigars, you know.”

Sinjin got up, paced around the room and swung to face her. “What nonsense, Mariah. I always suspected you had a vivid imagination, but this exceeds my wildest expectations.”

She tried very hard not to flinch at his tone. Though her determination hadn’t wavered, she had guessed that Sinjin would be bound to wonder about the state of her mind.

“It isn’t nonsense,” she said, very low. “Is anyone likely to hear us?”

“I usually banish the servants when I’m in my study,” he said. “What has that to do with … with this fantastic story of yours?”

She took a deep breath. “This must be a secret between us, Sinjin.”

“A secret.” He waved his hand. “Very well, it shall be our secret.” He laughed again, though the sound was strained. “Get on with it, then.”

His rudeness was the least of her concerns. “When I was walking out by the mere yesterday morning,” she said slowly, “I saw something at the folly—”

“You mean that Georgian monstrosity?” He chuckled to himself, glanced at Mariah’s straight face and sobered. “What did you see at the folly?”

“A man.”

“A man?”

“A man caged up like an animal, behind bars. A man who has obviously been a prisoner for some time.”

Sinjin frowned, wore another circle in the carpet, revisited his unhappy cigar, and finally took his seat again.

“A prisoner?” he echoed. “In the folly?”

“As I said.”

It was too much for even an intelligent man to absorb all at once. Sinjin slumped in his chair, pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “This isn’t just a story, is it?”

“Do you think I’m a liar, Sinjin?”

“Good God, no.” He raised his head. “Who in hell is he?”

Mariah released her breath. As miraculous as it seemed, he believed her. Or at least he was doing a very good job of pretending.

“I don’t know,” she said. “When I first found him, he couldn’t speak. And though he has regained the power of conversation, he doesn’t know his name.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that. It is as if he suffers from a form of amnesia. He was in a very poor state when I found him, with only stale water and no food.”

“Good God,” Sinjin repeated. He glared down at the crease in his trousers, his expression dark as storm clouds. “What does this fellow remember?”

“Very little,” she said. “He has obviously suffered some sort of shock, but he is a gentleman, that much is clear.”

“A gentleman?”

“Yes, though it might not appear so at first. His speech, his manner …”

“This is beyond anything.”

“I know.”

He remained deep in thought for several tense minutes. “How did you come to find this man, Mariah?”

“I saw a stranger lurking about the folly and found a key to an inner chamber. That is where I discovered the cage.” She braced herself. “There is something else, Sinjin. This man … The prisoner looks almost exactly like Donnington.”

“What?”

“Except for the color of his hair, he could be Donnington’s twin.”

Sinjin muttered something under his breath. “Are you quite certain all this wasn’t a dream?”

The chair seemed to lurch under her. “I can see that it was a mistake to come here. I shall take my leave.”

“Merry, I—” He stared into her eyes. “Good God. You’re as white as a sheet. I’ll ring for a glass of—”

“I’m all right.” Mariah sat very straight and gazed at him earnestly. “What I have said is no exaggeration. I felt it was necessary to prepare you.” She hesitated. Should I tell you that he not only looks like Donnington, but blames your brother for his imprisonment?

She had no choice. But that could wait until tonight … if Sinjin agreed to come.

“Did you or did you not mean it when you said I could count on you?” she asked.

“Of course I meant it,” he said, though his usual aplomb had deserted him completely. “You haven’t spoken of this to anyone else?”

“I did question one of the maids regarding rumors related to a captive somewhere on the grounds.”

“Rumors? You’d already heard about this?”

“Not at all, but I thought if anyone would know.” She hesitated. “She confirmed that she’d heard stories of someone being held at Donbridge.”

“For God’s sake!” He shook his head. “I’ve never heard a word of this, and I can scarce credit—” He broke off. “A man who looks like Donnington. Did this maid say who is supposed to have committed this … this offense?”

“No.”

“But you have a theory.”

“I’ll tell you what little I know tonight.”

Sinjin didn’t press her. He rose and walked to the sideboard, where he picked up a glass and set it down again. “The proof is in the pudding,” he said grimly. “When shall I meet this … gentleman?”

Her heart resumed its normal rhythm. “Come to Donbridge,” she said, “but secretly. I don’t want to alert anyone who might have taken part in this.” She hurried on before he could interrupt. “Meet me at eleven tonight, by the folly. I’ll show you everything, and then we can decide what we ought to do.”