The Courtship - Catherine Coulter [125]
Lord Beecham and his wife just stared at Reverend Older.
“Not again,” Helen said.
“I didn’t find anything, of course. Now, why are you in residence here, my boy, and not back in London?”
“We both like it here. I see no reason for Helen and me to go to my country estate in Devon just yet. Lord Prith likes to have us staying here with him. Why did Lady Chomley not wish to marry you, sir?”
Reverend Older sighed deeply and rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “The sweet lady discovered I had, er, temporarily removed one of her brooches from her overflowing jewelry box. I had lost a wager, you see, and as a gentleman, I had to pay it. Actually, she had postponed our wedding several times over the past months. Perhaps she distrusted me.” He sighed.
“Very unreasonable of her to rid herself of you,” said Helen, and Lord Beecham saw the calculating gleam in her eye. He knew that gleam well. She would tackle the good reverend in the next two minutes. He was terrified and pleased. But he couldn’t let her have her fun. No, he couldn’t take the chance of her possibly being hurt. It curdled his belly. She was his wife and Jordan’s mother.
“What do you want with us, sir?”
“I want the lamp, my lord. Nothing more, just the lamp you and your wife found here. Oh, yes, this bloody cave is becoming quite famous. I know that others have tried to steal the lamp from Shugborough Hall. I am smarter than that. I waited until I got the two of you alone. Now I will hold one of you here whilst the other returns to the hall and fetches the lamp back to me.”
Lord Beecham said, “Yes, we do have the lamp. However, it is simply a very old lamp. It does nothing at all. It just sits where you place it. There is no magic to it.”
“I am a man of God. The lamp was meant for a man like me, not for common Philistines like you. I have the spiritual depth and the incredible insights of a true churchman. The lamp will guide me to further greatness. The lamp will perform for me.”
Lord Beecham said slowly, “I don’t know what you mean. Did you say ‘further greatness’?”
“Very well, I was speaking prematurely. The lamp will guide me to beginning greatness. Greatness has eluded me until now. But with the lamp I shall find my way. I shall perform feats not even dreamed about.”
Helen yawned, then cocked her head to one side. “I cannot imagine any greatness springing from you, sir. You are a villain, nothing more, and a thief—just ask Lady Chomley. Did we nearly catch you in your hidey hole?”
“I was watching you on the promontory. When you came here to escape the storm, I followed. As I said, I have great insight. I knew that the storm was meant for me, that it would force you here, that you would then give up the lamp to me, its rightful possessor.”
Helen yawned again. “It is nasty weather, is it not, Reverend? And you are an elderly man. It is likely you will catch an inflammation of the lung. Let us go now. You will return to London. You may not have the lamp. Go away.”
Reverend Older frowned. “I don’t like this,” he said slowly, looking from Helen to Lord Beecham. “I had not expected you to be so very rude to me. Now, my lord, you will return to Shugborough Hall and fetch the lamp. I will keep Lady Beecham here with me. I will not harm her if you are quick to bring me back the lamp.”
Both of them just looked at him.
“I must have the lamp, else I will be in dire straits.”
“Dire straits happen, sir,” Lord Beecham said. “That is a pity, but you may not have the lamp. Go away.”
“You force me to violence, something I abhor.” He raised the gun and aimed it directly at Helen.
“I say, what the devil is going on here? Who is this old fellow who has the gall to aim a gun at my dearest daughter?”
Lord Beecham wanted to cheer at his father-in-law