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Authors: Victoria Vane

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dry. Her entire being felt arid and devoid of emotion. She had ex-

pected to feel
something
once the initial shock wore off, but the only

feeling she could summon was relief, a sentiment entirely inappropri-

ate to the occasion. She cast her gaze about the gilded library, noting

Edward and Dr. Stone. DeVere was present as well and the Duchess

of Beauclerc, but she carefully avoided any eye contact with either.

Diana still didn’t know what to think or feel about DeVere after

the duchess had sown her poisonous seeds last night. Deciding it her

best course, Diana kept her eyes downcast and her handkerchief at the

ready, a convincing prop, although the trembling hands that held it

were no act at all. She was thankful for the glass of fortified wine and

sympathetic hand squeeze from Annalee.

“When did you last see your husband, Lord Reginald?” Sir John

asked.

“It was late yesterday morning just before the start of the first

race. When his horse did not appear on the field, he went to the stables

to inquire of his jockey.”

Sir John consulted his scribbled notes. “And that would be John-

son? The man who was found with Lord Reginald?”

“Yes. That is my understanding—that they were found together.”

“And this Johnson. What do we know of him? How long was he

in your husband’s employ?”

Diana licked her lips, concentrating on the fine detail of her lace

handkerchief. “Since before we were wed. Jemmy was a lad of fifteen

or sixteen when he came to Palmerston Hall with Reggie.” Reggie had

been both generous and oddly protective of Jemmy from the start. She

now realized just how naïve she had been regarding her husband’s

relationship with the young groom.

“Was your groom, Johnson, fond of drink?”

“I could not say, my lord. I never saw him intoxicated.”

“Do you think it
possible
Johnson may have had too much to drink

the morning of the race?”

“I could not say.”

“Yet the groom did not show for the race. Is it possible in your

mind that Lord Reginald could have beaten his groom?”

Diana reflected a long moment. “I would not think it likely at all,

Sir John. Reggie was of a cold and calculating nature, not a man prone

to fits of violence.”

“Yet, he was reputed a compulsive gamester.”

“Yes. I cannot dispute his gaming habits.”

“Had he accumulated considerable debts?”

She bit her lip and finally stole a sidelong look at DeVere who

gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “I am unaware of the

full extent of his debts,” she said.

“Yet he had placed great hopes on the horse race.”

“As had I,” she said wryly.

“Is there anything more that you know, Baroness?
Anything at

all
that might help to explain the events surrounding your husband’s

death?”

It was literally the moment of truth. Diana’s heart pounded against

her breastbone in rhythm with the pendulum clock. Her gaze darted

between the Duchess and DeVere. The Duchess eyed her intently, her

lips parted as if to speak. Only they knew the whole of it, or as much

as could be known.

The time had arrived to speak up and come clean—about the ex-

tent of their financial devastation, of the unnatural relationship be-

tween Reggie and Johnson and their plans to elope together, and the

planned blackmail of DeVere. But it was all too sordid. Too much to

bear. Besides, wasn’t it irrelevant now? Reggie was dead. Her shame-

filled life was over. It was a chance for a new beginning. A new life,

one she refused to enter under the shadow of such a scandal.

“No. I can think of nothing.” She closed her mouth with a prayer

that Caroline would also maintain her peace.

Sir John scratched his head, setting his wig askew. “Then I con-

clude that we have an accident involving a drunken groom who was

discovered by his employer, Lord Reginald, after his horse failed to

appear. My lord assaulted the jockey, beating him about the head

with the pistol, whereby during the struggle, the weapon went off

upon himself—a simple matter of death by misadventure. Unless any-

one here has information to refute this, I deem that there is nothing

further to pursue.”

“Sir John,” the Duchess interjected. “Since I am sadly ignorant of

legal proceedings, what would transpire should any evidence of foul

play
later
come to light?”

“You mean should the groom recover sufficiently to identify an-

other assailant?”

“Yes. Or anything
else
that might later suggest a motive for vio-

lence against the deceased. Just out of curiosity, of course.” Diana no-

ticed the dark looks exchanged between the Duchess and DeVere.

“As there is no statute of limitations pertaining to violent crime,

an investigation would, of course, be opened by the proper authori-

ties. As Justice of the Peace, it is only within my domain to determine

if additional inquiry is warranted. At this juncture, there is not.”

Diana asked, “Does this mean...”

“That these proceedings are concluded?” Sir John answered. “I

only have need of your signature on a statement, my lady, and then

you are free to attend to your personal affairs.”

“I’ll conduct you both to my private study,” said DeVere.

“A brief word

***

with you, my lord?” Diana asked DeVere after her

business was finished with Sir John.

“But of course,” he answered and rang for a footman to conduct

Sir John out.

“What did you mean by coming to my room last night?” She

raged after the door had closed. “It was deplorable and unscrupulous

to take such advantage of me!”

DeVere lifted a bland brow. “I do not recall any complaint last

night.”

“Because I was drugged by laudanum and not in my right sens-

es!” she cried. “And what do you mean by this?” she asked, retrieving

from her pocket the document, now crumpled, that he had left under

her pillow. “You give me a lease to my own house?”

She appeared both incredulous and infuriated. It was precisely

the reaction he had sought to achieve, but it gave him little satisfac-

tion. Ludovic found it a struggle to maintain his impassive facade and

blithe tone.

“For obvious reasons, I am unable to convey upon you the title to

the estate. Yet this ninety-nine year lease ensures your future security

with continued and uninterrupted residence at Palmerston Hall at the

negligible sum of one pound per annum. The execution needs only

your signature.” With a gesture, he indicated the quill and ink await-

ing her on the blotter.

“What of the stables, the horses?” she asked.

He laughed. “I fear my largesse does not extend as far as the

horseflesh, as that was what I sought to begin with.”

“It was only for the horses?”

He inclined his head. Best to let her believe that rather than the

truth—that he had bought the debt rather than allow her life to be de-

stroyed by her wastrel husband. “You may keep your mare, of course,

but all the others will join my stables.”

“I don’t understand. Why do you do this?” she asked, indicating

the document.

“Is it not obvious? It is customary to provide former mistresses

with a parting gift. While it is usually in the form of diamonds or

emeralds, I thought this gesture would be more welcome in your

straightened circumstances. I have also spoken at length with Lord

Derby who has agreed to dispense with half of the prize money. Thus,

you shall also have a comfortable nest egg of fifteen hundred pounds.”

Diana gaped. “P-parting gift?”

He brought her hand to his lips for a lingering kiss. “It was lovely

while it lasted, my dear Diana, but my attention is sadly difficult to

maintain for any duration. Ennui, you understand. It is a curse, re-

ally, as I am continually compelled to seek out new diversions...new

companions.”

She blinked. Her lower lip quivered. “Then that is all this was to

you? A brief diversion?”

“Don’t take it to heart, pet. Passion like we’ve shared never lasts.

In my experience amorous idylls are best ended before the bloom is

fallen from the rose and only thorns remain.”

“I see,” said Diana stiffly.

No. She only saw what he
allowed
her to see.

She picked up the document. “You flatter me with your generos-

ity, my lord. I understand even the most exclusive courtesans may

be had for one hundred per night. It seems in only two nights, I have

warranted over four thousand.”

If she’d wielded a rapier, it would not have cut deeper. “Don’t

sully what we had, Diana,” he growled.

“It is not I, but
you
who have done so, my lord. By your offer, you

have made me your whore, but then again, a woman in my position

would be a fool to refuse. And I am no fool.”

He could see the struggle for composure in her trembling hand

and the splattered drops of ink as she scrawled a hasty signature. “I

shall order my bags packed immediately,” she said. “The sooner I de-

part the better.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best, but you need not be anxious about

crossing my path again, as I leave for London within the hour. Ed-

ward and Annalee will depart soon thereafter. You will accompany

them back to your home where no doubt, given time, all will return to

a state of normalcy.”

“Yes,” she said hollowly. “No doubt it will.” She turned for the

door in an abrupt rustle of petticoats, but her hand paused on the

knob. “There is something I must know.” Her back was still turned to

him. “Did you do it? Did you kill Reggie?”

“Were you anyone else, I would not even dignify that with an

answer.” His temper flared white-hot, but by holding himself in tight

check, he managed to respond. “Did I have motive to kill him? Per-

haps. Did I have desire to do so? Undoubtedly, on several occasions. I

only needed to look upon him to feel the urge. But were I to kill a man,

Diana, it would never be in a clandestine manner. I would look him in

the eye as the last breath left his body, and he would know it was me

who pulled the trigger or impaled him upon my sword.”

“But what of your own father?” she asked.

“My father is both alive and well cared for, and that is all you or

anyone else need know,” he said, nearly gnashing his teeth.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that the duchess...”

“Caroline is a meddlesome bitch!”

“Thank you for answering,” she said. “It was impertinent on my

part.” With quiet dignity, Diana departed from his study and from his

life without looking back.

After the door clicked softly behind her, Ludovic smashed his fist

on the desk, clearing it of all its contents, splattering ink pots and scat-

tering papers in an enraged swipe. For two brief nights, he had known

solace, the peace his soul desperately sought, and now it was gone.

Gone with her. “Bloody hell! Goddamn bloody hell!”

And the sooner he too departed from this accursed place, the bet-

ter. He poured a drink and downed it in one angry draught before

calling for his horse.

***

Diana’s departure from Woodcote Park was much as she recalled

her arrival less than a sennight ago with she and Annalee sharing the

coach and Sir Edward mounted with the outriders. She once more

gazed sightlessly out the windows, lost in melancholy reflection.

“I thought DeVere’s departure was rather abrupt,” Annalee said.

“But I suppose nothing he does should surprise me by now. He is an

abominably capricious man.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” said Diana with a sharp pang, wishing to talk

about
anything
but DeVere.

“Did you not? Do you know he has ordered the entire house to

be closed up?”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. The servants were amazed, given that he had only recently

taken up residence. But they had little to grouse over as he provided

them all with a generous severance.”

“He must mean to reside in London, then.” Diana hoped her terse

answer would end the discussion. She was so very tired of all the pre-

tense and polite conversation when she only wanted to be alone to

weep.

“No, indeed!” Annalee said. “He has now taken it into his head to

travel! Do you recall the ignoble Baron Baltimore he spoke of at din-

ner the first night? Well, DeVere seems to have the queerest obsession

with the man. He has taken a notion to follow Lord Baltimore’s travels

to Italy and Constantinople.”

“He does what?” Diana was aghast.

“He said he may be gone for years! But who knows what could

befall him in the hands of those Turkish heathens. Can you even imag-

ine such a thing? Hew was beside himself about it until he learned his

brother finally agreed to buy his commission. He’ll soon be joining the

Dragoons.”

Though Annalee continued her prattle, Diana heard nothing

more. He had had shown her passion, awakening emotions she had

previously locked away deep inside. For two blessed nights, she had

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