Lady Beware (33 page)

A
t Yeovil House, the groom got down to ply the knocker. Darien eased out of the coach with Thea limp in his arms, though her eyes were open on his, as if he were her savior. By the time he reached the door, it was open, the footman agape.

Darien walked in. “Is the duchess at home?”

It took a moment for the footman to pull himself together. “Yes, sir!”

“Find her.”

With servants' instinct, another footman and a maid came into the hall, also to gape. Darien addressed the maid. “Lead me to Lady Thea's room.”

The maid hesitated but flinched under Darien's glare and hurried up the stairs.

“The other gentleman?” the footman asked.

Darien glanced back and saw Sir George.

“He can do what the Hades he wants as long as he doesn't bother us.”

He was settling Thea on her bed when the duchess rushed in. “Oh, dear heavens, what has happened?”

“That,” said Darien, suddenly adrift, “is a very complicated story.”

Thea held out her hands to her mother, who ran to her.

Darien backed out of the room….

He was thrust back into it. The duke followed him in and shut the door.

Thea was sobbing in her mother's arms. The duchess looked at her husband, pale and aghast.

The duke said, “What has happened?” It was not a question to be refused.

Darien pulled himself together as best he could. “She was taken prisoner. By Captain Foxstall. Entirely because of me.” He pressed his hands to his face. “It's my fault.”

“No!”

Thea's cry made him uncover his eyes to look at her. “If I had never invaded your life, this would not have happened.”

“What did this Foxstall do to my daughter,” the duke asked, awfully, “and where is he?”

“Dead,” Darien said. “I killed him.”

The duke exhaled. “That, at least, is satisfactory.”

“Thea declared before a large portion of London that she is engaged to marry me, Your Grace.”

“That,” said the duke, “is not.” But his eyes asked a bleak question.

Darien didn't want to answer it, but he supposed his silence was enough.

Thea sat up, detaching herself gently from her mother. “None of this was Darien's fault. I received a note. I thought it was from Maddy. Asking for help. I went and was taken prisoner.”

“By this Foxstall?” the duke asked gently.

“Yes.” Her eyes flickered around the room and she shuddered. “He tried to hide his identity, but I knew. He was larger. I caught a glimpse in the mirror before he strangled me.” Her hand went to her bruised throat and the duke muttered, “Dear God.”

“Oh, my poor darling,” the duchess said, drawing Thea's hand away to look at the darkened skin and blood-smeared wound.

“I thought he was killing me, but I came to. On the bed….”

The duchess held her close. “It's all right, dear. You don't have to say more.”

Thea shook her head. “He'd blindfolded me, and he tried to disguise his voice, to sound like Darien, but I knew. He told me how he hated me. He cut me. On my neck. My leg. I thought again he was going to kill me, but then he loosened the blindfold. By the time I'd brushed it off with bound hands, he was gone.”

After a moment, the duchess asked, “That was it, Thea? He didn't violate you?”

“No! Oh, no.”

“Thank God,” the duke said, and Darien echoed it. But he wondered at the depth of malice that had lied to him about that, even when Foxstall knew he might soon be dead.

“Very well,” the duke said, briskly now. “We need a story to contain all this.” He turned to Darien. “Half London, you said?”

Darien pulled himself together to make a report. “Events in the square were witnessed by about forty onlookers, then a magistrate and two officers of the law, then twenty cavalry. Those events included my killing Foxstall in a bloody and completely irregular duel and Thea rushing out to prevent the mob from lynching me on the spot.”

“You were quite correct,” the duke stated. “Everything would have been a great deal better if you had never intruded into our lives.”

“I will belatedly remove myself, Your Grace. I gave my word to return and face the law.”

Darien left the room, wondering if he'd ever see Thea again. He realized that the duke had followed and he braced for further scathing remarks. He deserved them.

The duke led the way in silence downstairs and to his offices. No curious, gawking servants were to be seen, but some scurrying suggested they were around every corner. The news would already be flying to all parts of London and beyond….

Once they were inside the businesslike room, Darien said, “I deeply regret Lady Thea's involvement in this and I will do anything to reduce it. Leave the country. Even put an end to my disastrous existence.”

“I doubt that would help,” the duke said coldly, making Darien feel like an overwrought youth. “I have no idea to what extent you caused this, Darien, but I will find out. It appears my willful niece may have made a contribution, and Thea should never have left the house alone.”

“It is not a fault to be kindhearted.”

“Can you deny that she was almost certainly attempting to hide some folly of my niece's when she ought to have taken the note to her mother?”

Feeling now like a schoolboy hauled up before an implacably logical, vengeful master, Darien kept his mouth shut.

“There will be no trial,” the duke said. “Especially not a sensational one before the House of Lords. I will not have my daughter called as witness in such an event.”

“I certainly don't want that.”

“How did Foxstall gain access to your house?”

“He had a key from a mutual friend, sir.” No point trying to explain the complexities of Pup's part in this.

“Then I suggest you guard the keys to your house better in future. He decided to use your house for his wicked purposes. You caught him at it—”

“Beg your pardon, Your Grace, but he was placidly observing events from the square when I saw him and killed him.”

The duke's glare blamed him for the inconvenience of facts.

“When you unexpectedly returned home,” he amended, “Foxstall escaped, but lurked, waiting his chance.”

To do what? Darien wondered, but he didn't interrupt. If the Duke of Yeovil could tie all this up in a tight little bundle and bury it, he'd not object.

“You saw him, saw his guilt written all over him, and raced to seize him and hold him for the law. He resisted violently and you had no choice but to defend yourself, leading to his death.”

“I raced to kill him, sir, for what he had done to Thea, but if your story will hold, so be it.”

The duke nodded, studying Darien with an icy eye. As best he knew, the Duke of Yeovil had never been in the army, but at this moment he could give Wellington a run for his money as far as scathing disapproval went.

“Is there anything in this betrothal?” he demanded.

“No, Your Grace. She said it to try to protect me.”

“This event is hardly going to improve your family's reputation.”

“No, Your Grace.”

“But if Thea declared your commitment before witnesses, especially dressed like that, it had better stand for a while. Fortunately, with us having left Town once, Thea and the duchess are able to return to Long Chart without it seeming too peculiar. In view of your happy plans, you will wish to go to your own estates and attempt to put them into good order for your future.”

“Of course I will,” Darien said dryly. “But having taken my seat in Parliament, I should stay until the session ends, sir.”

The duke's tight lips implied he'd sooner see the menace gone, but he said, “Of course. When the fuss has died down, Thea will release you from the engagement. I doubt anyone will be surprised.”

Darien bowed, left the room, and walked toward the front of the house, hoping Sir George Wilmott was not waiting to harangue him. His tolerance was almost exhausted, no matter how justified the complaints.

Instead, he found Frank, holding his jacket. Darien had been unaware of being so insufficiently dressed.

Frank passed the jacket over. “The duchess came down and gave it to me. She said to tell you that Lady Theodosia is recovering well and will want to receive you here tomorrow early, before they leave for Somerset.”

Darien saw the bloodstain on the lining at the front and wasn't surprised by the sharp smell of blood when he put it on. The hint of Thea's perfume was a different matter.

“She clearly hasn't spoken to the duke yet.” He led the way toward the front door, which the very interested footman opened for them. “What happened with the authorities?” he asked as they left the house.

“The magistrate insisted on inspecting Cave House, which seemed reasonable enough. Nothing there, of course, except the mess in the bedroom but he still wants to talk to you and Lady Thea. Pugnacious Sir George has gone off to try to find a crime to pin on you. Are there truly no servants? You're suspected of doing away with them, too.”

Darien shook his head. “There's a groom. The others absconded, taking what was left of the silver. We need to get back there.”

“No, we don't. They can all wait, and we can't live at that place. There's a perfectly good inn on the next street.”

“How do you know that?” Darien asked, amused despite himself.

“The footman told me.”

“Such a simple solution. But I'll need my things. Where are yours?”

“At the coaching inn. I wasn't sure you'd still be living at the house. Why are you?”

“From this perspective, I have no idea.”

“There's blood on your shirt. Are you wounded?”

Darien remembered Foxstall's blade slicing along his side. He touched the sore spot. “Nothing serious.”

Frank took his arm and steered him along. “Come on. We'll retrieve your possessions later. Now, you need food, brandy, and a bit of peace and quiet.”

“What chance of that with you around?” Darien complained, but suddenly, despite disaster, loss, and pain, the world seemed better. “And what of your fair Millicent?”

“Millicent? Oh, that's all in the past. She was such a weakling over her father's objections that it took the gilt off the gingerbread, and then the admiral made sure I was busy on patrols. She sent me tear-smudged letters for a while, but when I left she was in smiling adoration of a captain.”

Darien began to laugh.

H
e was soon settled in a comfortable parlor in the Dog and Sun, enjoying the novel situation of Frank looking after him, and very well, too. He hadn't seen his brother for two years, and he was now completely a man. Not surprising when those two years had included all the usual demands of navy life and the expedition against the Barbary States.

He was pleased, but eventually said, “I hope this will stop short of you wrapping a shawl around my shoulders.”

Frank grinned. “All right, very well, but it was an alarming situation to come home to. I'd heard some things, anyway.”

“Ah.”

“What's been going on?”

So over ale and excellent meat pies, Darien told Frank most of the recent events, but left out the original motivation.

“Surprised you wanted to leave the army, especially to get into this world,” Frank said, “but I understand what you mean about the end of the war. I'm feeling a bit that way myself.”

“What?” Darien asked, older brother resurfacing. “Because of Millicent and her father?”

“Lord, no. I told you, I consider that a lucky escape. I've no wish to be tied down before I've found my feet. I'm leaving the navy.”

Not a question, a statement.

“Already arranged?” Darien asked carefully.

“Floated, let's say. It suited old Dynnevor to send me here in case Millicent wavered, but I did request it. I've hardly been in England beyond Portsmouth for years. I need to know what it feels like. Certainly can't complain of boredom as yet,” he joked.

“But why? I thought you enjoyed the life.”

Frank drained his glass and refilled it from a pitcher. “Yes, but I'm not mad for it. I would have been as happy in the army, I think, or anywhere else that provided action against the enemy. Many of the other officers are mad for it, though, you see. They love the ships and the sea and it kills them to be shore-based. Doesn't seem fair to take a place that others want so badly.”

“I see. But dare I raise the question of money? I'll support you, of course, but…”

Frank laughed. “We'd be at one another's throats if I were your dependent. Prize money, Canem, prize money. The navy pot o' gold.”

“I didn't realize you'd been involved in rich captures.”

“Not the magnificent sort, but enough, and as first lieutenant, my share of last year's hauls was handsome.”

“I may tap you for a loan,” Darien said, but when his brother looked at him sharply, he shook his head, smiling. “Amazingly, I have enough, and with improved management I'll not want. So, what plans?” Darien asked, still slightly alarmed, even though Frank always landed on his feet.

“I've no idea,” Frank said happily. “Isn't that splendid? I joined the navy at twelve, and I've not had substantial say in the ten years since—”

“I'm sorry.”

“Do stop that,” Frank said with a mock frown. “You talked Father into sending me early and I thanked you and God for it. I've enjoyed the life, but I'm ready for something new. But what about you? Is there going to be a trial?”

Darien marveled for a moment that Frank's carefree state existed in ignorance of that. Always expect the best.

“Probably not. It's in the Duke of Yeovil's interests for there not to be. The story will be that I was seeking to arrest Foxstall, but he resisted and I killed him more or less by accident.”

Frank's expression was politely dubious.

“He didn't rape Thea.”

“Malice
and
stupidity?” Frank said. “The world's definitely better without him.”

“Yes. But we were friends of a sort. He was a damn good soldier.” He felt the need to tell a few stories that showed Foxstall in a good light, and Frank indulged him, but he could see that his brother wasn't much impressed. They both knew that blind courage and the ability to kill were common enough. That honor and integrity were more important in the long run.

“What will you do next?”

Darien rose, taking his glass of ale with him, to wander to the window that looked down on the inn yard. This wasn't a mail coach inn, but it was still busy with comings and goings.

“Go to Stours Court once Parliament ceases the endless talk,” he said. “To prepare it for our spurious happy future.”

“Why spurious?”

“No one could ever be happy at Stours Court.” Darien was surprised to find that certainty in him. He looked back at Frank. “Dry rot, wet rot, deathwatch beetle. And memories.”

“Pull it down.”

“It's probably your inheritance. I doubt I'll marry.”

“Then definitely pull it down. But you could outlive me if you've settled to a peaceful life.”

“My ability to live peacefully is signally absent.” He told Frank about the masquerade.

“What else could you do? Earl or not, the man was a swine and he'd abused your lady.”

Darien smiled. “It's good to have you here, Frank.”

“I see it is,” his brother said bracingly. “Seems to me you've been letting yourself get blue deviled. It's probably that black dog snarling at you every time you go into the house. That'll have to go. You know what a black dog means, don't you?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Melancholia. Black dogs are ill omens in general. I don't see using the house at all, but that monster still should be removed. Did you see the inn sign here?”

“A dog and a sun, I assume.”

“The rising sun and Sirius, in the constellation Canis Major. See. It's always how you look at things.”

Darien laughed, but stopped, knowing he was too close to an edge.

“So,” said Frank, “you and your Thea will need better homes.”

Darien looked at his glass and found it empty. “We won't marry.”

“No? I admit the situation was a bit strained, but you both seemed mightily concerned for one another.”

“I care too much to let her link herself to me, and after this I doubt her family would permit it.”

“And she? Women can be dauntingly persistent. I know that from experience.”

“Hound you to death, do they?”

Frank laughed, but didn't reply.

Darien leaned back against the window frame, hearing the distant bustle of normal life all around, seeing before him that Cave didn't inexorably mean outcast.

So it was himself that caused all the problems. He was more like the rest of his family than he'd thought.

“Lady Thea has led a sheltered life, so I excite her, but she's had ample evidence now of the havoc I bring in my train. If she hasn't come to her senses already, she will, given time, so I intend to present that gift. I'll go to Stours Court as commanded. She'll go to beautiful, polished, orderly Long Chart and realize that is her setting. For months, half the country will separate us, and if we do meet again, we'll be polite acquaintances, no more.”

Frank said nothing, but he clearly didn't believe a word of it.

“Grand loves do die,” Darien said. “You've experienced that.”

“I wouldn't say Millicent was a grand love, but by all means attend to Stours Court. Things will work out as they should.”

“Dammit, you sound like Candide. ‘Everything is for the best in this best of all possible worlds.'”

“But keep an eye on the weather,” said Frank. “Let's see what you think after meeting your lady tomorrow.”

“I doubt I'll be admitted.”

“I'd back the duchess and Lady Thea over the duke any day.”

“That assumes Thea wants to see me.”

“Lay you a pony she does.”

“Have I not always frowned on gambling for high stakes?”

“Not willing to risk your blunt,” Frank teased, “being the poor relation?”

“Not willing to gamble on this matter at all.”

Frank rose and came to stand by the window with him. “I'm sorry. What will you do if she won't have you?”

Darien shrugged, smiling wryly. “Go adventuring with you, perhaps. But for a present adventure, we'd best go to Cave House to deal with mayhem and collect my possessions.”

They walked, for Frank was eager to see as much of the city as possible, but when they entered the square, Darien braced himself. There was no physical evidence of the recent events, however. Someone, perhaps the duke, had arranged for a thorough removal of blood and disorder. But the remnants of death and disorder hung in the air.

A couple came out of a house three doors down, paused, stared, and hurried away.

“Cave, cave,”
Darien murmured.

“Violent death on the doorstep is a bit upsetting,” Frank said, “no matter who you are.”

“Will you allow me no drama?” Darien asked as he unlocked the front door.

“Don't see the good in it.”

Darien led the way in. “I could wish the ghosts would return, just to show you. But they, too, were a machination of the Prussocks, I'm sure.”

“What?”

“I suppose I haven't told you about my wonderful collection of servants—” Darien broke off. There'd been a thump upstairs, where no one should be. Then an
“Oooooooooo…”
floated down. He shared an astonished glance with his brother, and then they raced up the stairs.

“I'll tell you something,” Frank said as they reached the top of the stairs, “that's not Marcus. Far too feeble.”

A roar came from the front.

They both halted, and despite the years, authority, and war, moved toward the shrouded drawing room with much greater care.

A guttural moaning now, along with shuffling sounds.

Darien's skin crawled, and as he stepped into the room he wished he had his saber, even though it would be useless against an evil spirit.

A pale shrouded shape loomed.

He realized it was a person an instant before the Holland cover was thrown off to reveal a grinning Pup. “How's that, Canem? Give you a turn?”

After a breathless moment, Frank, eyes bright, said, “Do introduce us, Canem.”

Darien needed a strong drink. “Frank, meet Pup Uppington. Pup, meet my brother, Frank.”

Pup came forward beaming, hand out. “Lieutenant Cave, an honor to meet you! Good to see you, too, Canem. Bit worried about the Foxstall business. Thought I should come to see. Nid Crofter told me what happened and there was some man here left a note for you.” He produced it and it was from Evesham, who was sternly making an appointment on the next day. Mention of His Grace, the Duke of Yeovil, however, showed that the duke had already begun his work. “Rum do,” Pup said. “Everything all right now?”

There seemed no point in going into details. “Being sorted out. What was that with the ghost?”

“Heard you say you wanted some, so I obliged. Pretty good, eh?”

Darien shook his head.

“Anything I can do to help?” Pup asked. “Can't live here without servants. Can come to stay with us, if you like.”

“No, thank you,” Darien said, “but thank Mrs. Uppington.”

“Fine woman. Never minds anything and she's a splendid manager. Always the best food, and just as I like it. And you were right, Canem—wife is better than a whore.”

Darien heard a strangled noise from Frank, but didn't dare look.

“I'm sure she's missing you,” Darien said, “so you'd best get back to her. Thank you for coming.”

“Righto,” said Pup. “You can always call on me, and I fancy I know a bit about the married state now.” He beamed at them both and left. Whistling out of tune.

Frank collapsed on the uncovered sofa and tried to stifle his laughter in the padded arm.

After a brief struggle, and after the front door shut, Darien joined him, laughing until tears ran. And if there were some real tears mixed in, hopefully Frank wouldn't notice.

They eventually pulled themselves together. Darien showed Frank the portrait of their father. Frank shuddered and covered it again. They went through the house, but agreed in the end that there was nothing in it either of them wanted other than Darien's belongings.

They packed the wooden chest, but with his fashionable wardrobe, his possessions no longer all fit.

Darien put the coverlet on the floor and tossed his clothing into it to make a bundle. Lovegrove would have fainted. Poor old Lovegrove.

After a final look around, they left, locking up the house. In the stables, Darien told Nid to get a man with a pushcart to bring the trunk and bundle to the Dog and Sun, and then to move himself and Cerb there, too. After that, Darien walked down the lane with his brother, hoping never to set eyes on Cave House again.