Lord Ashford's Wager (23 page)

He took a deep breath and let it out as though he were expressing great relief. “You have guessed, my lord. I did see the murderer, and I ran because I was terrified he might have seen me.”

“Did you recognize him, Jim?”

Jim hesitated, and tried to look both fearful and sly at the same time. “I think I may have, but I am not really sure. My parents have not much to live on, you know, my lord,” he added.

“And what do your parents have to do with it?”

“I was thinking that if I
did
recognize the murderer, he might want to give them a pension to keep me quiet.”

“And if he did that, what would you do, Jim?”

“I have heard that there are many opportunities in America for young men who are willing to work hard, your lordship.”

“But how would you get word to the murderer, Jim?”

“I rather think I am speaking with him now, my lord.”

Fairhaven lifted one hand from the chair arm and reached out to run his thumb along Jim’s neck. “Why should I pay for something when I could so easily…”

“I am afraid you have chosen the wrong sort of house, sir,” said a voice at the door.

Jim and Fairhaven had been so intent that neither had heard the door open. Blisse Spencer closed it behind her. “If you want a young man, you will have to go someplace else.”

Fairhaven straightened up and Jim sank back in the chair.

“Jim, I think you had better get back to your post,” said Mrs. Spencer.

Jim wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t leave Mrs. Spencer alone with a murderer. On the other hand, if he got out, he could get Gideon…

“Go ahead, Jim,” said Fairhaven. “Perhaps I was mistaken. I thought we had the same thing in mind.”

“I think we do, my lord, only not here,” said Jim, closing the door as he left and looking desperately down the hall for Naylor and Lord Ashford.

Blisse Spencer looked puzzled. Jim’s interest in Nancy had been very obvious and sweet. Whatever did he mean? She turned to Fairhaven and said, “I can give you the address of an appropriate house, if you wish, sir.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Spencer.”

“Let me show you out.”

They were almost to the parlor door when it flew open. Without a second’s hesitation, Fairhaven pulled Mrs. Spencer in front of him and backed away from Gideon Naylor.

“Drabble!” he shouted.

Tony Varden pulled Drabble into the doorway. “I am afraid he is otherwise occupied, Lord Fairhaven.”

Gideon had a pistol in his hand and took careful aim at Fairhaven.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you, Naylor, or I’ll kill the woman,” said Mark, who had his hands at the base of Blisse Spencer’s neck.

Gideon looked into Blisse’s face and said in a cold, hard voice: “Do what you want, Fairhaven. Why should I care what happens to an old whore?”

Blisse would not give Gideon the satisfaction of revealing how much he had hurt her with those words. So she was expendable, was she? She had guessed by now that it was Lord Fairhaven who held her. The man Jim was running from. The same Fairhaven who had killed Lady Fairhaven by pressing against her arteries. She could feel Fairhaven’s thumbs moving slowly and inexorably to the pulse points. But if he did it, he was dead anyway, she thought. Wasn’t it to his advantage to use her as a shield?

“I am warning you, Naylor. I have no reason not to kill her.”

“And I repeat: Do what you want, my lord. We will have you for two murders then.”

Blisse knew there was only one thing to do: go down before Fairhaven’s hands or Gideon’s pistol made her do so. She slumped suddenly in Fairhaven’s arms and in the split second that Fairhaven looked down in surprise, Gideon was next to him, pistol cocked and resting against Fairhaven’s forehead.

“Let her down gently, my lord.”

Blisse let herself slide down to the floor and lay there as dazed as if she were indeed unconscious.

“Jim!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get me some rope.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jim was back in a moment, and in a short time both Drabble and Fairhaven were immobilized.

“My God,” said Tony, leaning over Blisse, “you are indeed terrible with the terrible. I hope he hasn’t killed her.”

“He hadn’t enough time, my lord,” replied Gideon. “I knew I could get there as soon as she lost consciousness.”

“I hope she has only fainted,” said Tony.

Blisse decided she could open her eyes. She pushed herself up, surprised at how weak she felt. “He didn’t even get that far, my lord,” she said. “I only pretended to faint. I decided it was up to me to save myself,” she added, her eyes hard and her mouth trembling.

“Good for you, Mrs. Spencer,” said Jim.

“And good for you, Jim,” Tony said. “You must have been terrified.”

“A little,” Jim admitted. “Especially when Mrs. Spencer walked in on us.”

“Get us a cab, Jim,” said Naylor, who hadn’t even looked over in Mrs. Spencer’s direction. “We’ve got to get these two down to Bow Street.”

Tony lifted Blisse to her feet. “Do you have anything to drink, Mrs. Spencer?” he asked, and she pointed out a decanter of brandy sitting on a side table. He sat her down on the sofa and poured her a glass and one for himself.

“Do you want one, Naylor?”

“No, my lord, not when I am on a job.”

The heat of the brandy stopped Blisse’s trembling and she looked over at Gideon. He stood next to Fairhaven, pistol still cocked, his face unreadable. He was a very different Gideon from the one who had drawn Jim out. Who had brought her to the bedroom for the first time in five years. This Gideon left no space at all for approach. It wasn’t just his pistol that put him in charge of the whole room. It was an energy that was almost palpable. Some women would be attracted to that energy, she thought. Not she. She preferred a man who let you in, like the Gideon who had taken her to bed. Well, she would never see either Gideon again, thank God. And next time, she’d know better than to let down her guard.

By the early afternoon of the next day, the news was out: Mark Halesworth, Lord Fairhaven, had been arrested for the murder of his cousin, and Tony Varden was completely vindicated. As always, there were those amongst the gossips who claimed to have had their doubts all along. “Mark Halesworth was a cold man, as I always said,” or “Despite his gambling, Tony Varden never did seem the type to murder anyone,” went these refrains.

For Joanna and Tony, the denouement was almost anti-climactic. They were both dazed by the sudden change in attitude. Joanna was ecstatic, she told herself, that her faith in Tony had been justified. But if that were so, then why did she feel so empty? Perhaps it was because she had had a purpose for the last few weeks, that purpose demonstrating her faith in Tony. Was she so perverse that she would prefer Tony in jeopardy so that she could stand by him? Had she hoped, at some level, that the crisis would bring them together?

She wore one of her most beautiful new dresses that night. Her card was almost full by the time Tony arrived and she could only offer him a country dance. He was surrounded by well-wishers. Those who had been avoiding him for weeks were now rushing up to offer their congratulations.

The hypocrisy of the
ton
never ceased to amaze Joanna. Women who would not have let their daughters dance with him a few days ago were dragging them over for an introduction. Not that his popularity would last, thought Joanna cynically. The notoriety would fade in a week or so and then these same mothers would remember that he was only a bankrupt earl.

Tony himself was surprised that his reception didn’t make him feel any better. He spent the evening with a smile pasted on his face and a stock of platitudes on his lips, which he trotted out as people congratulated him. No one seemed to be thinking of Claudia, only the scandal of Lord Fairhaven’s arrest. He missed Claudia, and at the same time realized, with some surprise, that if she had been miraculously restored to life, he would have ended their engagement, Ashford or no Ashford. But he would have liked to have talked to her as a friend and share his confusion with someone. Claudia would have understood that the events of the past few weeks had changed him profoundly. Although a part of him wanted to bolt for St. James Street, he knew that he neither could nor would gamble again. He also knew that it was time to return home and begin to learn Ned’s strategies for setting things to rights. And Claudia was also the only person, besides Ned, that he could imagine confiding in regarding his new and disturbing feelings for Joanna.

* * * *

Tony was even more in need of Claudia the next day when he was summoned to the reading of her will. It took place in the Fairhaven library, with the late Lord Fairhaven looking over the shoulder of the family solicitor as though to say: “Foolish woman, but I always loved her for her warm heart and generous spirit. And now that she is with me again, you’re welcome to the money, Ashford.”

Tony had assumed he was there to receive some little keepsake. When he discovered he was to inherit a substantial amount of money, he sat there dazed by the news. “Thank you, my dear friend,” he whispered. He could almost hear her answer: “I always had great faith in you, Tony.”
I
will not disappoint you, Claudia,
he silently pledged.

As he walked home it slowly dawned on him that he was now free. Ashford would be safe. He could hire a competent estate manager if he wanted to and buy back his commission. He could return to the excitement of life in the military, and let his mother run the household.

The realization did not make him feel the way he would have at the beginning of the Season. Something had shifted in him during his ordeal. Oh, he would never be Ned. But neither could he ever be again the same devil-may-care Tony Varden. He was terrified by the thought of the responsibilities he had inherited. But underneath the familiar terror was a small spark of excitement. It was a sort of gamble, he thought with a smile. A private wager. Himself against the world’s opinion of him and his own past.

Without realizing it, he had turned into Berkeley Square and was in front of the Barrand house. His pace quickened as he bounded up the front steps, so eager was he to tell Joanna his news.

“Lady Joanna is dressing for her morning ride,” the butler informed him. “If you will wait in the morning room, perhaps she can see you for a few minutes, my lord.”

Tony was pacing back and forth when Joanna entered, looking very attractive in her new hunter’s green riding habit.

“You are looking very pretty this morning, Joanna.”

“Thank you, Tony. And you are looking in alt about something. I only have a few minutes, for Lord Oakford and his sister will be here shortly.”

Tony frowned. Lord Oakford was a widower who had seemingly discovered Joanna during the last few weeks. He had become very attentive and Tony wondered exactly what Joanna’s feelings were towards him.

“I have received some rather amazing news, Jo. Claudia left me a great deal of money. I haven’t quite grasped it in yet, but it seems as if I have received a last-minute reprieve and Ashford is saved.”

Joanna impulsively put out her hands and grasped Tony’s. “I am so happy for you, Tony. She must have loved you very much.”

Tony’s hands shook and when Joanna looked up into his face, she was surprised to see it wet with tears. Tony let go and stood up suddenly, turning his back, and trying to dry his eyes quickly.

And you must have loved her more than you knew,
thought Joanna, suddenly very tired.

Tony cleared his throat. “It is her faith that touches me more than her affection. I knew I had her heart, but at the end I was afraid I might have killed her trust in me.” He turned and gave Joanna a tentative smile. “Of course, there was a good reason for that. Anyway, I wanted you to be the first to hear, Jo, before the
ton
got hold of it.”

“Thank God, Mark Halesworth was arrested.”

“My God, I hadn’t even thought of that! If the will had been read earlier, I’d be back in Newgate!”

“I think Gideon Naylor had something to say in the matter,” Joanna told him.

“Naylor?”

“Yes, he had received hints from Fairhaven and checked with the family lawyers about the will. He asked them to hold off until he got further in his investigations.”

“He wouldn’t have done that had you not convinced him that I was innocent, Jo. Another woman whose faith and trust I didn’t deserve,” he said in an almost inaudible voice.

Joanna wanted none of his gratitude. “Well, what will you do, Tony?” she asked briskly to change the mood of the conversation. “Hire a manager and go back to your regiment?”

“You know me so well, don’t you, Jo?”

Joanna’s heart sank. She had so hoped that this spring had changed him.

“It was my first thought,” he admitted. He was fingering a celadon vase on the mantelpiece. The green glaze made him think of the flecks of green in Jo’s eyes. He wanted to look more closely to see if it was indeed the same green. To see himself in her eyes. What would they reflect? Only the image of an old friend? Or someone new and different? He didn’t have the courage to risk it. “But all of this seems to have changed me,” he continued. He smiled his most charming smile and ran his hands through his hair. “Oh, I’ll never be like Ned or my father. But I mean to take up my responsibilities as earl as best I can. It will be nice to be neighbors again, Jo,” he told her softly.

Someone knocked at the door and Joanna said quickly, “That must be Lord Oakford. I don’t want to keep him waiting, Tony. I am happy that you will be back at Ashford full time. Perhaps we can ride together again.” She was almost to the door when she added over her shoulder, “In the fall. I will be visiting my godmother in Cumbria for much of the summer.”

Well, that was that. Thank God he hadn’t made an utter fool of himself, gazing into her eyes like some mooncalf boy. Without thinking, he hurled the celadon vase into the fireplace. It made a very satisfactory crash, which brought a footman into the morning room.

“The vase slipped through my fingers, William. Please tell Lady Barrand I will replace it for her.” The footman nodded and then winced as Tony ground a long piece of porcelain into the carpet on his way out.