The Beguilement of Lady Eustacia Cavanagh: The Cavanaughs Volume 3

by Stephanie Laurens

  Ernestine had been utterly believable; both Stacie and Ryder, pretending to discuss relatives while straining their ears to eavesdrop, had been awed by her performance.

  On quitting the dining room, Stacie dropped back and looped her arm through Ernestine’s as her erstwhile companion walked sedately beside Emily toward the drawing room. “You were magnificent!” Stacie murmured.

  Ernestine blushed. “I have never lied so much in my entire life, but I do believe he accepted every word.”

  Stacie beamed across Ernestine at Emily, who had been seated opposite Ernestine at the table. “Did you hear it?”

  Likewise beaming, Emily nodded. “A more accomplished performance, I have never witnessed.”

  They walked into the drawing room and settled themselves on the chaise and the chairs in the arrangement they’d decided on. Stacie made for her usual armchair, one of the pair closest to the fireplace. Emily took its mate, while Ernestine left the armchair next to Emily vacant and took the next one down the room.

  The dowager, who, with Mary, had accompanied Aurelia from the dining room, steered her to the long chaise. Mary sat at the end closest to Stacie, Aurelia sank down beside her, and the dowager took her usual position at the other end.

  As they settled to chat about recent ton events, Stacie covertly observed Aurelia and had to admit that Mary’s suggestion that much of Aurelia’s rigidity might have its roots in nervousness appeared increasingly correct. Aurelia was gradually relaxing, albeit by painfully slow degrees.

  Adhering to their plan, the men didn’t dally over their brandy and port. They returned to the drawing room and disposed themselves about the space. Ryder surreptitiously steered Carlisle to the armchair beside the dowager, yet himself remained closest to the door; he drew up a straight-backed chair, set it a little beyond Carlisle, facing the fireplace, and sat, crossing his long legs and giving the impression he was looking forward to hearing some news.

  From where he sat, Ryder would be able to see the faces of everyone else in the room.

  Frederick, meanwhile, walked to the fireplace and took up a stance before it, gracefully waving Hadley to the vacant armchair between Emily and Ernestine. Smiling easily, Hadley sat, exchanging an idle comment with Ernestine.

  Stacie looked up into her husband’s eyes and allowed him to read her satisfaction. Thus far, everything had gone more or less as they’d scripted; now, it was Frederick’s turn to take center stage.

  He smiled in gentle and open affection, then raised his head and looked around the company.

  The chatter faded; the others all looked at him, and an expectant silence fell.

  Frederick looked at Carlisle and Aurelia. “Now, to our news—mine and Stacie’s. The others already know, but I wanted you to be among the first to hear that we’re expecting our first child in January.”

  Carlisle’s face broke into a spontaneously beaming smile. “Congratulations! That’s wonderful news!” That he was sincere was beyond question.

  Aurelia’s perennially tight features softened, and she looked at Stacie and smiled—a gesture that reached her eyes and made her appear much more approachable. “My congratulations as well.” She raised her gaze to Frederick’s face. “You must both be thrilled.”

  Stacie’s smile was entirely genuine. “We are.”

  Along with everyone else, she looked at Hadley.

  All color had drained from his face, and his gaze had grown distant; he’d been frozen in place, but when everyone stared at him, he blinked to attention and babbled, “Yes, congratulations—definitely, er…good news. I…wasn’t quite expecting that, but…well.” He flung a glance at Ernestine, who blinked innocently back, then Hadley dredged up a somewhat sickly smile for Stacie and Frederick. “I suppose I should have, of course.”

  Then he stilled and focused on Frederick. “When are you planning to announce the impending birth?”

  Carlisle stiffened and directed a disapproving look at his brother-in-law.

  Aurelia stared at her brother, a frown forming in her eyes.

  Frederick merely smiled, albeit with an edge. “We’re not planning on announcing anything at all until our child is born.”

  Hadley’s relief was obvious to everyone—and everyone was watching. Carlisle looked increasingly puzzled, while Aurelia looked increasingly concerned.

  Apparently oblivious to the swirling undercurrents, Frederick blithely went on, “However, as it happens, Ryder and I had occasion to meet with a Mr. Mordaunt in Wapping this afternoon—I believe you know him? I did share our news with him.”

  “What?” Hadley’s face lost what little color he’d regained. He goggled at Frederick, then glanced at Ryder. “W-Why on earth did you tell him?”

  Ryder smiled chillingly. “Because he was laboring under several misapprehensions regarding the House of Brampton, and as your principal creditor, Mordaunt deserved to know that your attempts to ensure that Carlisle inherits and unwittingly gives you access to the Brampton estate counting room, so to speak, are destined to come to naught.”

  Ryder’s final words, “Mr. Mordaunt is not at all happy with you,” were lost beneath Aurelia’s gasped, “Attempts to…” Her face a mask of horror, she leapt to her feet. “Hadley! What have you done?”

  One glance at her face was enough to assure everyone that the only thing Aurelia had known or even suspected was the potential for her younger brother to behave atrociously.

  “You don’t understand!” Hadley sprang to his feet. Facing his sister across the Aubusson rug, he insisted, “I had to! I had no choice.” Abruptly, Hadley rounded on Frederick. “You bastard! I’ll never be free of Mordaunt now—I’ll have to flee the country!”

  “Indeed.” Utterly calm, Frederick reached into his coat pocket, withdrew a folded sheet, and held it out to Hadley.

  Hadley stared at the paper. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a ticket for passage on the early-morning ferry from Dover to Calais. I suggest you take it.”

  When Hadley continued to stare at the ticket, Ryder said, “I second that recommendation. And just so you’re aware, men—very able men—will be watching you from the moment you leave this house.”

  Frederick didn’t lower the ticket. “In light of the accidents you engineered, if we ask around, I’m sure we’ll find people willing to bear witness against you. I’m sure you know the punishment for attempting to murder members of the nobility. However, if you leave the country immediately, we won’t have any reason to dig for evidence with which to convict you.”

  After much debate, they’d decided that the only way to protect those innocent of any wrongdoing—namely, the other Barkshaws—from the inevitable repercussions of Hadley’s crimes was to allow him to flee the country. After considering what sort of life a man like Hadley would face, alone, without resources, in a foreign land, Frederick had agreed. He wasn’t happy about letting Hadley go, but he accepted it was the best way.

  “Accidents?” Aurelia stared at Hadley as if he’d grown two heads. She glanced briefly at Frederick’s hard face, then returned her gaze to Hadley’s. “What accidents, Hadley?” Her voice had grown harsh and demanding. “What did you do?”

  “I had to, I tell you!” Hadley’s face contorted; he clutched at his hair with both hands and tugged. “I had no choice! When Frederick married, Mordaunt sent his men around to ask what that meant for the succession, and although I spun him a tale, I had to make sure nothing came of it—you must see that!”

  Carlisle had risen when Aurelia had and had watched the unfolding drama in some confusion. “Succession?” he asked, looking even more confused. “What has the succession to do with you?”

  When no one offered an answer, Mary, who, along with Stacie, had been watching Aurelia closely, said, “I believe your wife might be able to shed some light on that.”

  Aurelia’s expression turned anguished, and she swung to face Carlisle. “I helped him out—with money. Just here and there, from my pin money and sometimes from th
e household funds—but only when he was desperate.”

  She swung back to Hadley and, fists clenching, her whole body vibrating, demanded, “How could you? I risked going against my husband’s wishes purely so that there would be no scandal. You knew what it would do to Papa and Mama—you always held that over my head. You knew that was why I did it! Nothing I did was ever an invitation to use me, to use Carlisle and his connection to Frederick, to borrow funds from some cent-per-cent!”

  Far from displaying any remorse, Hadley sneered. “All very well for you—living the life of a lady while I had to scrimp and scrape.”

  “Enough!” Frederick stepped forward, his gaze taking in the pain and fear written across Aurelia’s face. He swung to face Hadley, slapped the ticket against Hadley’s chest, caught his eye, and harshly commanded, “Take it and go—before I change my mind.”

  The threat in the latter phrase was real; Hadley looked into Frederick’s eyes, realized that, and snatched the paper.

  Hadley glanced at Ryder and Carlisle, both stony faced, then looked at Aurelia, then he shoved the ticket into his pocket. “All right. I’ll go.”

  Ryder stepped back to allow Hadley to stalk past. As he did, Ryder said, “Just in case you’re tempted to try it, if you’re wise, you won’t set foot in England again. Mordaunt’s memory is long, and he’s said to have a vindictive streak. Many of us here would feel obliged to inform him if you are sighted on English soil.” Ryder turned his head and met Hadley’s eyes. “It’s the least we can do given we’re depriving him of all satisfaction by allowing you to flee, thus escaping his retribution.”

  Frederick watched with grim satisfaction as the last of Hadley’s misplaced confidence drained, and he turned and walked, increasingly quickly, to the door. When Hadley opened it, Frederick glimpsed Fortingale, flanked by two footmen, waiting in the hall, and left it to his staff to see Hadley from the house.

  The door shut with a click, releasing the tension that had held everyone in its grip.

  Aurelia slumped onto the chaise. Stricken, she looked up at Carlisle. “Can you ever forgive me?” She shifted her gaze to Frederick and Stacie. “Can you?” Then she dissolved into gasping, noisy, utterly genuine tears.

  The ladies all gathered around, and the gentlemen backed away—even Carlisle, after he’d patted Aurelia’s shoulder in a clumsy, comforting way and attempted to assure her he didn’t blame her for her brother’s actions.

  She only sobbed harder.

  Emily and Ernestine were inclined to be soothing, but Mary, Stacie, and the dowager quickly adopted a more bracing attitude, promulgating a view that there was no need to overstate, much less overdramatize, Aurelia’s involvement, as it was hardly her fault her brother had turned out to be a bad egg.

  Ryder and Carlisle joined Frederick by the fireplace, and Carlisle asked and Frederick described the attacks that Hadley’s paid thugs had engineered.

  Carlisle was shocked, yet his principal concern was for Aurelia. He glanced at her, seated on the sofa, surrounded by the other ladies. “She’s always tried to help him,” he said, rather sadly. “She could never accept that he wasn’t worth it.”

  Eventually, the storm of Aurelia’s sobs abated. The other ladies tried to reassure her that, as long as Hadley quit the country and stayed away, there was no reason the ton would ever hear of his behavior—no reason scandal would engulf her family. Yet still she hung her head; she seemed to want to shrink into the chaise.

  Finally, Frederick stepped closer, crouched in front of Aurelia, bringing them eye to eye. “Aurelia.” His tone was commanding enough to make her raise her head.

  Her eyes, large and swollen, met his, and her breath hitched.

  “Listen to all we’re saying.” Frederick held her gaze. “In everything you’ve done, you’ve acted from the best of motives. You thought you had to act as you did in order to save your family from being tainted by scandal—by the scandal Hadley blatantly courted. Your actions are nothing to be ashamed of—if any of us had been placed in a similar situation, chances are, we would have done the same. We all value family, and each family has its vulnerabilities. Acting to protect your family is something we all understand—none of us hold your actions against you, and we never will.” He paused, then added, “What Hadley did is in no way your fault—you are not to blame for his transgressions.”

  Aurelia blinked.

  Frederick continued to hold her gaze; slowly, he arched a brow.

  At last, Aurelia fractionally nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Frederick tipped his head and rose. He hadn’t said anything more than the others already had, but because he was the head of the house and arguably the most wronged by Hadley’s actions, she could accept absolution from him.

  Aurelia looked at Carlisle, who stepped to her side and patted her shoulder. “There, there, m’dear. No need to fear the worst. Like Frederick said, we’re all family here, and no one’s going to speak about Hadley again.”

  There was a firmness in Carlisle’s tone that didn’t surprise Frederick, but of which he saw Stacie, Mary, and Ernestine take note.

  Carlisle urged Aurelia to her feet, and they took their leave; Frederick, with Stacie beside him, saw them to the door and waited with them as their carriage was brought around.

  When Fortingale had shut the door and Frederick, with Stacie, turned to head back to the drawing room, Stacie leaned close and murmured, “I suspect we could all do with a little uplifting—do you think you might play your new air for us?”

  He met her eyes, then smiled and raised her hand to his lips. He kissed her fingers, then said, “As my lady commands.”

  They parted, she to summon the others to the music room while he went ahead and opened the piano.

  As she led the company into the room, the strains of Frederick’s “Anthem to My Muse” swelled, then swooped and snared them in its light and airy embrace.

  They stood and listened—Ryder and Mary, Frederick’s mother, Emily, and Ernestine—and in the center of the group stood the lady who held Frederick’s heart.

  He played for her, and the music rolled through the house, an anthem in truth, a paean to love.

  As the final chord sounded, only Ryder’s and Frederick’s eyes remained dry.

  His audience burst into spontaneous applause and shouts of Bravo!

  His mother held her hands to her heart and looked thrilled to her soul.

  But his eyes were all for his love and all he saw shining in her gaze.

  She was and would be his hearth, his home, the lynchpin of his family—his future, his muse, his, forevermore.

  They persuaded Frederick to play for a while more—light airs that lifted the clouds of the day and blew them away.

  Eventually, satisfied with the outcome of their endeavors, Ryder and Mary took their leave, and Emily and Ernestine went upstairs.

  Leaving Frederick closing the piano, Stacie walked with the dowager to the music room door.

  After casting a swift glance behind them, the dowager grasped Stacie’s wrist, leaned close, and murmured, “Thank you! You cannot know what a difference you’ve made to him—how completely you’ve lured him back into the world.”

  Stacie twisted her wrist, caught the dowager’s fingers, and lightly squeezed. “If so, it’s only fair, given the difference he’s made to me.”

  The dowager’s old eyes met hers directly, then Philippa nodded. “You balance each other.” She returned the pressure of Stacie’s fingers, then released her. “And that’s a wonderful thing.”

  With a smile and a graceful nod, the dowager went ahead.

  Stacie heard Frederick’s footsteps approaching, glanced back, and met his eyes. He arched a brow at her, but she only shook her head and, when he drew level, linked her arm with his. Together, they went upstairs and walked down the corridor to the room they shared.

  He opened the door and followed her in, then closed the door and halted. He drew her to face him and searched her eyes, her face. “
I didn’t get a chance to ask you before—in all honesty, do you like the piece?”

  She read in his eyes that he was serious, that he truly wasn’t sure. She smiled and let her love shine in her eyes. “Like is too small a word for how I feel—I adore it.”

  Relief flitted across his face, softening the hard lines. “Good.”

  He drew her to him, and she went.

  She draped her arms about his shoulders and said, “Now that we’ve slain all our lurking dragons and seen off all threats, it seems we’re free to embrace our marriage and all that comes with it.”

  She wondered if he would rise to her challenge, if he would continue to match her in directness.

  His gaze rock-steady, he didn’t disappoint. “Our love, our child—and our children to come.”

  “Our family.” She had never thought to have one of her own—to have all he’d laid at her feet. “I believe, my lord, that we have all we need—secured, safe, and so very much wanted.”

  His smile wrapped around her heart. “As I said, life is a symphony. You and I have laid down our melody and crafted our first movement—it’s time to start work on the next.”

  She returned his smile with all the love in her soul, stretched up on her toes, and just before her lips met his, whispered, “Yes,” and kissed him.

  Epilogue

  April 16, 1845. Albury House, Upper Grosvenor Street, London

  The Marchioness of Albury’s musical evenings were now widely regarded by the haut ton as must-be-seen-at events. Consequently, her fourth such evening got under way with the reception rooms of Albury House packed to capacity.

  As had occurred at the previous evenings, the instant the musical segment of the entertainment commenced, the focus of the entire gathering centered on the music room. Not a single grande dame remained chatting in the drawing room; having learned from past experience, those wily old ladies now claimed seats in the front rows in the music room, the better to assess the quality of the performers for future reference.