The Princess and the Pauper (19 page)

He
turned toward the window again and
wondered if Pearson didn’t have the right of it. If Grey had kept
his born place in life, he would never have given is heart to Emily
all those years ago. And he wouldn’t be in hell now.

“
I know Papa trusted you,
Pearson. He often commented on your loyal service.”

“
Thank you, Miss,”
the man returned,
obvious pride in his voice.

“
I will be blunt,
Pearson. Was there
anything unusual going on in the house in the last few months
before Papa’s death?”

“
Unusual, Miss?”

“
An unexpected visitor,
perhaps?”

“
No, Miss.”

“
How about
in the kitchen? Was there an
unwelcome visitor in the kitchen?”

“
The kitchen? Why no, Miss.
Never.”

“
I am not accusing you of any
wrongdoing, Pearson. Please know I hold you in high esteem. I only
ask because it has recently come to my attention Papa might have
been troubled in his final months. I simply must know if anyone in
the household, even an unwelcomed visitor, upset him.”

“
There was no one unusual
in the kitchen, Miss. Well . . .”

“
Yes,
Pearson?”

A pause, then
, “Dr. Snow once visited the
kitchen.”

“
I see.”

“
He asked if you, Miss Wright,
ever prepared your father’s meals. The question! I assured him you
had never done such a thing.”

“
I understand,
Pearson. Unusual,
indeed. Anything else?”

“
No, Miss. I insisted your role
in the kitchen was purely managerial, that you only ever prepared
the formal menus with Cook.”

At that,
Grey wondered, “You dined formally
while your father was ill?”

“
Twice a week with the Earl of
Dresmond.”

“
So often?” he asked.

“
I had an attentive
fiancé.”

Her eyes were on his
back
,
gouging, impossible to ignore.

Grey shifted from the window and
returned her heated gaze. Her eyes, alight, held his, mesmerizing
him. He damn well forgot Pearson was in the roo
m until the old man interjected,
“Yes, the earl visited often. Why, he joined your good father for
tea every afternoon.”

Emily
blinked, then turned back toward
Pearson. “Tea?”

“
Yes, Miss. The
Earl of Dresmond was
most attentive to your late father.”

“
I—I did not know.” She
frowned. “Do you know what they discussed, Pearson?”

“
I did not spy,
Miss.”

“
Of course not, Pearson,
but did you hear anything offhand? Anything at all?”

“
I believe their discourse
amiable, Miss. The earl impressed upon your father his many
estates.”

“
Thank you, Pearson,” she said
weakly. “I sincerely appreciate your help. It puts my mind at rest,
knowing Papa was so comfortable in his final months.”

The butler bowed.

“
I shall see you out,
Pearson,” from Grey.

The older man
glower
ed, but
said nothing.

Grey walked ahead of him until they
reached the front entrance. “Thank you again for coming, Pearson. I
know Miss Wright appreciates your valuable time. Let my pay for
your return trip—”

“
Not. A.
Penny.” With a jerk, Pearson tugged
his top hat over his bulbous head. “You are a villain for keeping
her here, and I shan’t take a penny from you!”

With that, Pearson stormed from the
house.

Grey slammed the door after
him
. His head
throbbed from drink, from rage. He was sick of being accused a
blackguard. All he had ever done was care for Emily. And damn
everyone to hell who condemned him for it!

Milling around the front entrance like a
caged bear, he waited for his blood to cool. When he returned to
the study, Emily was clumping and twisting her skirt, lost in
thought.

Her disquiet sobered him all the more. He
approached a nearby chair and dropped into the seat, intent upon
her.

“
Do you think the
earl the killer?” he
asked plainly.

“
Impossible.”

“
Why?”

“
He stood to gain an impressive
dowry upon our marriage. And he needed the money to restore his
crumbling estates.”

“
Was there a feud between
him and your
father?”

“
No, nothing of the
sort.”

“
And yet he had tea with
your father every day. There was opportunity there.”

“
To
poison
the man who was going to make him rich?
Impossible,” she cried again. Then more weakly, “Why would he do
such a thing?”

“
Perhaps he wanted all of your
father’s money?”

“
So he killed him
before
our
wedding?”

He shrugged. “Poison is
unpredictable.
If he miss-measured the doses . . .”

“
No.” She bounded to her feet,
pacing. “I cannot believe that. Why would he drive Papa mad? He
lost his fortune under the effects of the poison?”

“
Perhaps the earl
wasn’t aware of the
effects? You told me once he pressured you to declare your father
mad and save the remainder of his wealth.”

She rubbed her brow as if
suffering from a headache. “I would have inherited Papa’s entire
empire upon his natural death. There was no reason to
murder
him.”

“
And if he wanted the money
sooner?”

“
But
he wouldn’t have had any control over
it as my husband.”

“
Why
?”

“
W
hen the Married Women’s Property Act was
extended to include
all
property, Papa transferred everything to me in his will.
The terms of the will expressly prohibited any future husband of
mine from gaining control of the assets.”

“
Was the earl aware of
this?”

“
Of course, I—I don’t know. I
wasn’t present when the dowry was negotiated.” She dropped back
onto the divan, her face pale. “Do you really think he hurt Papa?
I—I just can’t believe it, Rees. Papa was going to pay off the
earl’s creditors and help him restore his estates. He
wanted
Dresmond to prosper,
to be worthy of me.”

Her every word twisted his
innards.
She
had such faith in Dresmond, but had believed
him
capable of murder. The earl’s title
and restored estates made him worthy of her hand, but
his
love for her,
his
music,
his
wealth had no
meaning.

Grey forced the bane
back into the bowel
of his soul, but he knew it would devour him—achingly slow—with
time.

Her eyes intent on the window,
she said in a staid voice,
“I will contact Papa’s former solicitor and ask
about the marriage contract.”

The door opened
then. Harry entered
the study, a small tray in his hand. He dropped the pot and teacups
on the desk, the dishes clattering.

“
Your tea
, milord.”

Grey ignored his surliness.
“Harry, is there an invitation
to supper or such in that mammoth pile from the
Earl of Dresmond?”

“
And if there
is?”

“
Is there or isn’t there?”
he growled.

Harry had enough sense to set aside his
dander. “There is,” he returned. “A ball, I believe, in about one
week.”

“
I want you to respond to the
invitation. Inform the earl I will be attending the
event.”

Harry’s feature’s brightened. “There’s the
spirit! It’ll do us both a world of good.”

“
You are not coming with
me, Harry.”

“
And why the devil
not?”

“
Because he will be attending the
affair with me,” said Emily.

Harry whirled around. “What happened
to the bloke—?”

“
Never mind, Harry.”
Grey settled his
gaze on Emily. “You will not be attending the ball,
either.”

“
I will,” she retuned
icily. “I will have the truth.”

The sudden violence in her eyes indicated
she wanted more than the truth, that she wanted vengeance, and he
winced to feel her coldness, even if it wasn’t directed at him. In
truth, it damn well frightened him to feel her slipping away, into
that abyss, and he didn’t want her anywhere near the
earl.

“
I can’t bring you with
me,”
he
insisted. “You are not my wife or sister or any relation
whatsoever. How would it appear if I brought the earl’s former
fiancée to his house?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “You were
engaged to the earl? Ha, I was right. I
knew
you were a lady.”

“
Get out,
Harry!
”

“
Righto, chum.”

As soon as Harry vacated
the room, Emily
coolly responded, “I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

“
It will be in all the
broadsheets
,”
he threatened. “What of your reputation?”

“
What reputation? Papa is
dead. I am your mistress. I’ve no need for a reputation. I’ve no
intention of ever going out into society after this one final
time.”

She would raid that blasted ball, he
sensed, scale the garden walls if she had to . . . anything to get
her hands on the “truth.”

“
If y
ou make the earl uneasy, he
will
not
cooperate. He will not give up any
truths
.”

“
Then I shall not make the earl
uneasy,” she quipped.

“
And how will you avoid
it?”

“
I will attend as your
fiancée.”

“
What?” he rasped.

“
I will attend the ball as Mr.
Rees’s fiancée. There will be talk, but no uneasiness. The earl
will not feel embarrassed to have his poor, former fiancée in
attendance, for I will come as the well dressed, well cared for
fiancée of another man.”

Grey swallowed at the
jarring
proposal. He knew it was a ruse, that she wasn’t really
asking him to marry her, but even her twisted ploy made his heart
pound with the hope of long lost dreams.

Still
, he shook his head. “The earl did
not invite you.”

“
No, he invited you, the most
celebrated
,
yet reclusive, violinist of our time. He will not deny me entry if
it means having you for a guest. He would not give up such a
coup.”

“
He might indeed give up ‘such a
coup.’ If he killed your father, he won’t want to be anywhere near
you, affianced to a celebrated violinist or not. He will fear his
secret’s come out.”

“
Then Harry will not mention my
name when he responds to the invitation. And when I appear at
y
our side, it
will be too late to deny me.”

No, she would not be
denied
. She
would not let anyone stand in her way, not even Grey.

How quickly her mien
changed from
confusion to conviction. She now seemed determined Dresmond was the
villain. And she seemed hell-bent on making him pay.

Unsettled, Grey
wondered, “What will
you do if you find the earl guilty of murder?”

“
Send for the authorities, of
course.”

He
did not believe her.

All he could do was attend the affair and
protect her.

CHAPTER
9

Emily
examined her profile in the
full-length mirror. Her sleeveless, ivory sateen evening gown had a
snug corset with princess seams while her narrow bustle, gathered
at the base of her spine and flowing to the ground, produced a
short train. She had pinned her hair up in two swirls and even cut
her bangs to reflect the frizzled, fashionable look of the
day.

She turned and inspected her
other side.
The exquisite material shimmered in the gas light and drew
the eye, which was perfect. She would not enter the earl’s house
like a mouse sneaking past the cat. She’d every intention of being
seen and acknowledged.

“
Thank you, Mary. You may
go now.”

The kitchen maid bobbed an awkward curtsy
before leaving the dressing room. She hadn’t experience as a lady’s
maid but had proved invaluable with the unreachable buttons at the
back of the dress. There was one last trimming, a set of matching
suede gloves. Emily slipped the supple material over her fingers,
pulling the accouterments up to her elbows. There, she was
ready.