As You Wish Read online

  Leah stood on the front steps, watching her father drive away in the rental car. His change of attitude had been a relief--almost a miracle--but he’d still managed to humiliate her as only a parent could. Not that she really blamed him for calling David’s bluff on his supposed “good intentions.” No, she was glad her father hadn’t let him get away with that drivel. She only wished he hadn’t asked her if she’d been thinking about marrying David. Lying had never come easily to her, and her silence had probably given away the truth.

  The car disappeared among the trees, and she turned back to the door. What game had David been playing, anyway? Trying to put on a good face for her dad? Maybe, in his hopelessly antiquated mind, he’d expected her father to call him out for sullying her. He’d probably implied he would marry her in order to avoid meeting her father with pistols at dawn.

  Too bad things didn’t work like that anymore.

  With a grimace, she stepped inside and closed the door. If she wanted her honor preserved, she’d have to do the preserving herself--and in a far less dramatic way.

  She paused in the hall, reluctant to go back and face David’s playacting. After three years with Kevin, she’d had her fill of insincerity. But living well was the best revenge, and that meant showing those who hurt you that they couldn’t keep you down. David was the one who had treated her badly, not the other way around. She wouldn’t allow herself to hide from him.

  Resolved, she took a deep breath and lifted her chin high. She strode back to the breakfast room and pushed through the double doors.

  To her surprise, no one paid attention to her entrance. Lady Isabella sat glaring at Lord Solebury, who, in turn, gave her a self-satisfied grin. David was also watching the marquess, his eyes narrowed and his gaze intent. She caught herself staring at him and looked away.

  Obviously, something had happened while she was gone. She hoped everyone’s lack of noticing her meant that she wasn’t involved. Unsure whether to join the others or leave them in privacy, she stopped in the doorway.

  Lord Solebury turned and nodded to her. “I’m glad you’ve returned, Miss Cantrell. Please take your seat. I have an announcement that should interest all of you.”

  So she did have some stake in this. She sensed Lady Isabella’s gaze boring into her and knew David was watching her, too. Without looking at either, she obeyed his lordship’s request and went to her chair.

  The marquess pushed his plate to the side and folded his hands on the table. “I spoke to my solicitor yesterday, informing him of David’s appearance and confirming that my will secures him as heir. David, since you’ll be assuming my son’s identity, you must remember to call yourself Viscount Traymore from here on. Upon my death, you will, of course, receive my title--only two hundred years later than you rightfully should have.”

  Leah’s jaw fell open. “Does this mean you . . . ? But how . . . ?” She trailed off. He couldn’t possibly know the truth, and any question she voiced would only raise suspicions.

  “Yes, I know who you are.” Lord Solebury smiled. “While you were out of the room, I explained that the truth came to me in a dream last night. Admittedly, I don’t quite understand all of it. For example, your father is clearly a contemporary American. Does that mean you are from the current time period?”

  She glanced at David, who shrugged in response. But why did she care what he thought, anyway? Looking back to the marquess, she nodded.

  “Of course, she is, Jon!” Lady Isabella slapped her palm down on the table, rattling the juice glasses. “Just as we all are, including Mister Traymore. Now, please leave off this absurdity. You were doing so well up till now.”

  “I still am doing well.” He turned back to Leah. “The legend records that a gamekeeper saw you and David disappear into the spring in 1815. I must assume that you somehow visited the nineteenth century before returning to the present again with David. But how? In my dream, I saw you nearly drown. Does the spring have something to do with the time travel?”

  His line of questioning intimidated her. Lady Isabella would never believe the truth and would therefore label her a liar. Still, she didn’t like having to hide the real story, and at least in this century she didn’t have to worry about being thrown into Bedlam. She nodded again.

  “Good God, Jon, you’re falling right into their trap!” Lady Isabella jumped up and leaned over the table on her hands. “Don’t you see? This must be what they intended all along--to swindle their way into an inheritance!”

  “Please, Isabella, reseat yourself. You’ll drive your blood pressure through the roof.” The marquess watched her until she complied. “Now, what would these two have to gain by this scheme you’ve laid out? You’ve informed them yourself that the estate is mortgaged to the hilt. We’ll likely have to sell before this young man even inherits. I’m only ashamed I haven’t been able to sustain some vestige of hope for Solebury’s future.”

  Isabella gave David a hard stare, which he met squarely. Looking back to her brother, she said, “It could be your title they’re after.”

  “In this day and age?” He waved off the suggestion. “Today’s young people have little interest for titles. They’re more likely to scorn such relics of social inequality.”

  “Not all young people, I’m sure, and your title isn’t the only possible motive. Perhaps these two have heard the tales about hidden treasure.” She wrinkled her nose at David and Leah. “By the way, if that’s what you’re after, you’re bigger fools than I thought. For two centuries, generations of Traymores have searched for that imaginary fortune. We all outgrew that folly along with childhood. Shouldn’t you two be past the age of gullibility?”

  Her gaze stopped at Leah’s eyes, piercing them until she felt she had to answer.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lady.”

  Lady Isabella snorted and looked away, her lips pressed together.

  “She’s referring to the other legend about the sixth marquess,” Lord Solebury said. “Do you two know the story?”

  David shook his head. “Nothing of it.”

  The marquess steepled his fingers in front of him. “Well, I’ve already told you how your father tried to divert assets away from your brother and to you.”

  “To him?” Isabella sniffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “For heaven’s sake, Jon, this is ridiculous!”

  Lord Solebury kept his gaze on David, who nodded his acknowledgment.

  “After you disappeared, your father was forced to take alternate steps. He stockpiled a good deal of his wealth and hid the goods from his heir.”

  “All myth!” Lady Isabella declared. “Don’t bother getting your hopes up.”

  Her brother rubbed his chin. “No, wait a minute. I don’t have it quite right. The story goes that the marquess originally hid the goods in fear of an attack from Napoleon. But after Bonaparte died and all danger had passed, your father kept the treasures hidden, waiting for your half brother to reform his ways. The boy never changed, and the marquess carried the secret of the hiding place to his grave.”

  Leah shivered. The foreboding feeling she’d had when David’s father stripped the house had been valid. She wasn’t surprised that William had never reformed--or even that his father had hidden all that wealth from him. But when she looked to David, she saw he had his hand over his mouth, which hung open with shock.

  “You say my father initially concealed this hoard from Bonaparte?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Lord Solebury lifted an eyebrow. “Do you know something of the treasure, after all?”

  “Oh, yes.” For a moment, David only blinked at him. Then he let his body drop back in his chair. “I know the hiding place.”

  * * * *

  They all drove to the gate house, which was in such a deplorable state that Leah felt like crying. She didn’t doubt they would find the missing goods within its crumbling walls. The discovery would bring this whole adventure full circle and confirm the real purpose behind the time travel
. She tried to be happy for the Traymores, at least the elder ones, but she still couldn’t help resenting David for dumping her.

  As he pried a sheet of plywood from the back entrance, she stole a glance at his profile. All the trauma she’d gone through had ended up benefitting him, yet he’d abandoned her. Someday he would be a wealthy marquess, prospering in England, while she would be back in Philadelphia . . . doing what?

  Everything she could to keep her mind off him.

  The plywood broke free with a loud crack. With a little jimmying, David opened the door behind it. He held it while Lady Isabella wheeled the marquess inside, then motioned for Leah to follow them.

  Excitement sparkled in his eyes, but it had nothing to do with her, and she looked away from him.

  “After you,” she mumbled, a bitter note creeping into her voice. “It’s your big moment.”

  “Our big moment,” he corrected, nudging her forward with a hand on her back. Despite herself, she shuddered under his touch. “You unlocked this entire adventure, Leah. Now go on and see what your quest has yielded.”

  Nothing. My so-called quest has dangled everything in front of me and left me with nothing.

  She reproached herself for self-pity and trudged into the kitchen. Limited in space to start, the room was now cluttered with broken furniture and rusty appliances. A walk-in fireplace on the far wall had been clogged with two old refrigerators, both with the doors removed. Evidently, the Traymores didn’t like to throw things away.

  A step leading down into the main hall required David’s taking charge of the wheelchair. Leah took the opportunity to drop behind him, as well as the rest of the group. While they filed through the house, she stopped at the door to the parlor and looked into the room she and David had first kissed.

  Unfurnished and lacking decoration, the sight made tears sting her eyes. Here, so long ago, she and David had shared a magical moment, brimming with excitement and expectations. The present moment, in contrast, was as empty as the room. Like the once comfortable furnishings, her hopes had been usurped by dust and cobwebs.

  She crossed the threshold, walking up to stand in front of the fireplace. Even decades of neglect hadn’t damaged the stone construction, and she smiled a little when she thought how much a good fire could still brighten the room. She ran a finger along the mantel. The wood beneath the dust and grime looked in good shape. Maybe the gate house could be restored--though it seemed more likely that whatever wealth the Traymores found would go into the main house.

  What does it matter anyway? she asked herself, turning her back on the hearth. Whatever renovations they made, she wouldn’t be here to see them.

  Faint squeals echoed from somewhere off in the house, and she decided to go on and see what they’d found. She followed the sounds of laughter and exhilarated voices down the hall and stepped into a room she’d never seen before. The others had crowded around an opening in the wood-paneled wall, nestled between two built-in bookcases.

  “Leah!” David crunched her against his chest, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “Solebury is saved! You’ll scarcely credit the quantity of treasures my father amassed here.”

  Taken off-guard, she let her arms slide around his body. For one brief moment, his strong hold felt like security, like love. Then she remembered he had left her. She loosened her arms and backed out of his grasp.

  He didn’t seem to notice, glancing back toward the opening with one arm still around her waist. She fought to keep from melting into him and forced her attention to the other side of the room. The older Traymores, each holding a kerosene lantern, peered into the passage, blocking her view.

  “See for yourself.” David pushed gently against her back, urging her forward.

  Knees wobbling, she stepped up behind Lord Solebury’s wheelchair. In the flickering light, she saw a hall-like passageway, both sides lined with sealed trunks and bundles wrapped in lined. Near the front, a large ancient Greek statue had been uncovered and, beside that, several exquisitely executed paintings. Across the floor, a small open trunk held a glittering pile of gold coins.

  “Good God.”

  “I feel like Howard Carter on first looking into King Tut’s tomb,” Lord Solebury said, grinning up at her. “‘What do you see?’ Caernarvon asked him. He replied simply, ‘I see wonderful things.’“

  “I hope we shan’t be cursed like Carter and Caernarvon,” Lady Isabella whispered.

  “Dear Isabella,” the marquess said, laughing, “I thought you didn’t believe in such nonsense!”

  Leah noticed the woman’s lantern was shaking dangerously. She pried the handle from Isabella’s fingers and set the lamp to the side. “Maybe you should sit for a minute, my lady. Here--I’ll use one of these old sheets to wipe the window seat clean for you.”

  While she hurried to dust off a spot, David helped Isabella cross the room.

  Lord Solebury wheeled himself behind them. “As one who does believe in the supernatural, I can assure you we wouldn’t be affected by such a curse, Belle. Only those not entitled to the goods they find are punished by curses. David’s father meant for him to inherit the bulk of his estate. Now, with the help of some magnificent force we’ll never understand, his wish has been fulfilled.”

  A chill of awe trembled down Leah’s spine, wiping out some of her bitterness. The marquess was right. A miracle had happened here, and she’d been lucky enough to play a part in it. David hadn’t fallen for her, but he didn’t owe her his love. Maybe he wasn’t even capable of that kind of attachment, since he’d led most of his life feeling unloved. After living through that, he deserved whatever satisfaction his newfound family and status would bring him. Though she couldn’t be happy for herself, she found she could be happy for him.

  “I’m glad your father and his young friend are coming to dinner tonight,” Lord Solebury said to her as David fussed over Lady Isabella. “We have so much to celebrate. Belle, we shall have to send Mrs. Pickford and Mavis out for the makings of a very special meal--and for some good champagne. An occasion of this magnitude calls for nothing but the best.”

  “I’ll do what I can to help with the groceries and cooking,” Leah said, thinking out loud. “We’ll make this a very special evening.”

  Since the dinner would probably be her last at Solebury House, the idea seemed doubly appropriate. The next day, she would go when her father did, either joining him for the trip home or moving on to meet Jeanine in Paris. Meanwhile, keeping herself busy would help her avoid dwelling on what--or whom--she’d be leaving behind.

  In her peripheral vision, she saw David bending over Lady Isabella, his face lit with a smile that made him look more gorgeous than ever.

  Cooking wouldn’t do a lot to help her forget that face . . . but what other choice did she have?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Helping prepare for the celebration turned out to be more of a boost than Leah expected. With the household overflowing with exhilaration, even she had to soak up some of the good feelings. In the old-fashioned kitchen, her companions’ spirits were as warm as the oven-heated room. Mrs. Pickford had relaxed her normally reserved manner, sharing personal anecdotes as well as tips for achieving flaky pastry and level cakes. Mavis, for once looking at ease, helped Leah set a fantastic table in the dining room--complete with vibrant centerpieces made up of untamed blooms from the gardens.

  Before going upstairs to dress, Leah stopped to take in the festive scene. Savory smells of roasting meats and baking goodies wafted in from the kitchen--along with the muffled footsteps of someone approaching in the hall.

  Mavis appeared in the arched entrance, carrying an armful of dinner tapers for the mass of candle holders she and Leah had hoarded into the room. As the maid filled the unmatched but charming holders, she grinned at Leah. “Better than Christmas, isn’t it, Miss? I never imagined this old house could be so cheerful.”

  She nodded, her own smile only a little bittersweet. “This is an important occasion.”

/>   “And to think this is only the beginning.” Mavis plugged in her last taper and adjusted the placement of the holder on the table. “When we open the bread-and-breakfast, every meal will be a special occasion.”

  Leah’s smile faded. “The bed-and-breakfast?”

  “Yes, Miss.” Eyes twinkling, she repositioned a bloom in the center floral arrangement. “Lords Solebury and Traymore were discussing the idea in the drawing room while I dusted, so I overheard some of the plans. What a marvelous way to maintain the house once it’s been restored--and just think of all the pleasure our future guests will reap from Solebury Manor. You came up with a wonderful suggestion, Miss.”

  “Thank you.” Leah bit her lower lip. Envy stung her again, as much she tried to suppress her selfishness. The Traymores were going to implement her plan--without her there to share the work or the rewards!

  “Won’t it be a pleasure to do this every day for guests from around the world?” Mavis walked toward the hall again, stopping in the archway. “Of course, you wouldn’t want to spend all your days cooking and arranging like you did today.”

  “I think I would,” Leah said, though she wondered whether she could answer objectively or if the grass just looked greener wherever David stood. But running a bed-and-breakfast definitely would have been more satisfying than her current job as an assistant manager in a department store. Even her old goal of teaching didn’t appeal to her the way operating the bed-and-breakfast did. Instead of bored students, she would have been dealing with delighted guests all the time.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t begin to feel like work when we have to do it every day.” Mavis shot her another grin and took off up the hall.

  “I wish I’d get a chance to find out,” Leah said to herself.

  The grandfather clock in the drawing room struck five, reminding her she didn’t have much time before dinner. She went upstairs to get ready for the evening, glad she had something else to keep her busy.

  She’d known ahead of time what she would wear: the only dressy attire she’d packed for her trip. With a brief scan of her wardrobe, she pulled out a classic “little black dress” with a cut-out back. Maybe dressing to kill would help counter the gloominess of her mood--and maybe it would make David think twice about leaving her. She didn’t really expect to change his mind, but any gain would be better than nothing. It would increase the chances of his thinking of her in the future--when, just maybe, he’d be more ready for a relationship.