“The Regent won’t hear of it,” the Secretary of Foreign Affairs argued. “This will be the last public occasion for his guests to talk together, and there are important topics being discussed. Rumors of assassins will only make him laugh. This affair is by invitation only. The type you are speaking of could not possibly have entered.”
“I did,” Chadwell reminded him.
The Secretary frowned. “And the person responsible will be severely reprimanded, I assure you.”
“Damn you, man! Can you not see. . .” He broke off abruptly and shoved Castlereagh behind him. “Gun!”
He drew his rapier and jumped into the crowd. Onlookers screamed. Castlereagh shouted furiously and signaled his men.
Chadwell focused on a man taking aim at the dais with a long-barreled pistol. Those around the shooter pushed and shoved to avoid the weapon.
A few braver gentlemen, assuming Chadwell to be the danger, threw themselves in his path. He cursed as another of the assassins pulled a second pistol and took aim at him.
At the same time, he saw DeVere tugging out a weapon.
He didn’t have time for caution. He swung his rapier in a bright arc, connecting with the first assassin’s wrist. The gun exploded in a stink of sulfur, disarming the villain.
DeVere lunged at the disarmed assassin as Chadwell swung to confront the second pistol. DeVere’s unanticipated attack caused him to lose his footing. The rapier blow meant to neutralize the second assassin went wild at the same time as the second pistol fired. Burning pain pierced Chadwell’s thigh. He fell forward but still buried his rapier in his attacker.
Instead of being merely wounded by Chadwell’s swipe, the first assassin now lay sprawled across the ballroom floor, his life’s blood pouring from a wound in his back from DeVere’s blow. Castlereagh gave DeVere a look of disgust and shouted orders for the dead to be hauled away. It was obvious that whatever they might have told of their plans would be buried with them. DeVere’s ill-fated lunge had seen to that.
Chadwell, on the other hand, did more than give DeVere a look of disgust. Pure loathing crossed his face as he clutched his thigh and shook off offers of assistance. Jerking his rapier from the still body on the floor, he pointed it at DeVere.
“The minute I find evidence that you planned this, you bastard, I’ll see you drawn and quartered. I had not thought even you could go this far.” His fury so violent he feared he would not control it, Chadwell swung around and limped after the men carrying out the bodies.
In the confusion behind him he escaped without being showered in royal gratitude. Considering his other activities, he would have been a hypocrite to accept it. Dragging himself into the carriage, Chadwell collapsed against the seat and ordered the driver to set the horses to speed.
Penelope frowned at the closed door between her bedroom and Graham’s. It had been nearly a week since he had left, and she had no other word from him than the message the carriage driver carried after returning Pippin to the city. It was good to know her husband was well and conducting business, but she felt as if they were back where they had started, with the door closed between them.
She had made few improvements to the small chamber that was hers. Perhaps it was time to stop fooling herself and set about making herself comfortable here. Even in that blissful time when Graham had taken her to his bed, he had always returned her here. He meant to keep the distance between them. She had no right to imagine that they would ever be closer. Love might exist in the minds of poets, but it seldom occurred in the real world that she knew. She should be satisfied that she gave her husband a measure of happiness.
She didn’t feel particularly satisfied, however. She had a lovely home and comfort and security, and Alexandra was a joy and a blessing. She ought to be on her knees in thanksgiving. Instead she felt as if she had traded one set of responsibilities for another, with no improvement in the loneliness that filled her nights. She was only human, and she craved love, the love that her mother’s death and her father’s absence had denied her, the love that a husband should have offered.
Chastising herself for such selfishness, Penelope set about finding a worthwhile project. She had already worked out ideas for the charity money. If Graham didn’t have time to help her, Guy had plenty to spare. Not being accustomed to wealth, she wasn’t certain of her judgment. She wanted a second opinion.
Guy found the enterprise she had in mind amusing, but he agreed to keep silent. They rode out one morning to inspect the property she was considering and to talk terms with the owners. By the time they rode back that evening, Penelope was all but bouncing in her saddle as she talked of all the plans the visit had inspired.
As they came around the bend to the Hall, Penelope spotted a carriage in the drive, and her thoughts instantly swung to Graham. Perhaps he had rode home with a friend, or perhaps the driver carried a message. She hastened the pace of her mount.
By the time they came abreast of the gleaming equipage, Penelope had recognized it. Adelaide! She and Brian had said they might venture out for a visit once she and Graham had time to settle in. Penelope hoped one of the guest bedrooms had been set to order.
Alexandra was already dragging her laughing aunt down the outside stairs when Guy and Penelope rode up. Alexandra grabbed Penelope’s hand and tried to pull her toward the stables. “Come see what Aunt Adelaide brought for me! I put him with my pony so they could keep each other company. She said I mustn’t let him in the house, but he’s so little, Mama, couldn’t we please? Just until he gets bigger?”
Bewildered but overwhelmed that Alexandra had called her “mama” for the first time, Penelope glanced up to Adelaide for explanation. Graham’s sister smiled and hugged Penelope in greeting.
“I have missed you already. The kitten was a good excuse to come before you could possibly be ready for us. I hope you do not mind. We will sleep anywhere. It does not matter. I was growing restless and needed the company.”
Penelope returned her sister-in-law’s hug. “I told you that you are welcome anytime. We might even find beds for you. Is Brian here?” At Adelaide’s nod, she continued, “Of course, he would not let you out of his sight now, would he?” She glanced laughingly at Adelaide’s rounding figure.
Then stooping to hug Alexandra, Penelope brushed the little girl’s wild mane of black hair from her forehead. “I’d love to see the kitten, love, but I must take Sir Percival in for some tea and see that your aunt has a room. Would you help me? Then we can go see about your pet.”
After settling everyone, admiring the kitten, and admitting that perhaps he might be happier in the kitchen for a while, Penelope sat down to tea with her favorite people.
“Isn’t Graham coming home to tea?” Adelaide demanded at once.
“He was called to London on some pressing business. I expect him any day now.” Penelope sipped from her cup and tried not to show her fears.
“Business!” Adelaide turned up her nose. “He’s up to some mischief, no doubt. I never saw one for gallivanting about the countryside as much as Graham. I hoped he had finally taken a notion to settle down. This is the first time that I know of that he’s set foot in this place since the accident. I thought it a good sign.”
“I thought the physician who tended him came from around here? Surely Graham stayed in his own home while he was recuperating?”
Adelaide shook her head vigorously. “The accident happened on the other side of the county, and he was taken to a friend’s home there. When he was well enough to be moved, he insisted on opening up that museum piece in London and moving there. I could not object, for it was the Season and the time for my come out, but I have always loved the Hall. It seemed strange not to come here in the summers.”
“I had hoped to drive the ghosts away. He did seem to enjoy being back. I am certain it is just some unfinished business that keeps him in London.” Penelope spoke with more assurance than she felt.
“I’m just glad you didn’t go with him. The things I he
ar of those murders make my hair stand on end.” Adelaide shook her head cheerfully as if her hair standing on end gave her great pleasure.
“I thought they stopped some time ago?” A chill ran down Penelope’s spine. Since she had seen how the people lived in the East End, she could imagine the horror of being trapped in such a place with a madman on the prowl.
“They did, but I just received a letter in the post from a friend of mine. There’s been no end of scandals with assassins running rampant through the halls of parliament. Some even say the madman was in the prince’s ballroom, and now he roams the streets at all hours. It is horrible. I vow, I’ll not feel safe to return until he is caught.”
Adelaide’s manner of rattling on past the facts to her opinions left the subject scantily addressed, but it was sufficient to make Penelope nervous for Graham’s safety. “Surely it is just conjecture? You know how rumors start. A lady faints, a bystander screams, and the whole town panics.”
Guy appeared amused at Penelope’s description of mob hysteria, but Brian shook his head in disagreement. “I only wish it were that, my lady, but I have had it from very reliable sources that two women have been killed this week alone. Graham is right to leave you here. I’ll not allow Adelaide back to town until the monster is caught.”
Guy brushed back a lock of hair and frowned. “They think it is the same man? How can they know?”
Brian shook his head. “It’s best not spoken of in front of the ladies. But witnesses have given a remarkably similar description. They have all seen a cloaked man. He is said to be well above average height and quite strong-looking. They all agree his hair is dark, and he sports a scar on one cheek.” For Penelope’s benefit, he added, “There has been no talk of the eye patch this time as there was this spring. It cannot be proved that such a man is the killer, I suppose, but it does seem remarkable coincidence that he is always in the area where one of these murders occurs.”
Looking at Penelope, who seemed to grow pale before his eyes, Guy answered lightly. “Well, then, we can excuse Graham. He doesn’t fit the description any longer.”
Brian and Adelaide laughed, but Penelope kept silent. She was relieved that no one would accuse Graham of such horrendous crimes, but she knew of one other person who accurately fit that description. She lived in terror that Graham had gone to town on some mission concerning his cousin Chadwell.
Chapter 26
With guests to entertain, Penelope feared she would have to set aside her plans for the foundling home she meant to establish, but Guy solved that problem. By mentioning the charity to Adelaide and taking Sir Brian under his wing, he brought both of them into her mission. Adelaide threw herself into the work with wholehearted enthusiasm, and Sir Brian agreed that he and Guy should circulate among the neighbors to raise funds.
Penelope made them promise her name would not be mentioned except as a sponsor along with everyone else. Since she had not yet had time to discuss this charity with Graham, she did not wish to offend him with her forwardness. Nor did she wish the extent of her charity to be known.
Plans to transform the old farmhouse into sleeping and teaching quarters for a dozen little girls necessitated the services of numerous workmen. Adelaide knew the neighborhood and knew the people to be hired. Between them, they went over the house from top to bottom and planned what needed to be done with the new foreman.
Although her days were full, she could not help worrying about Graham when she was left alone. She felt foolish fretting over a grown man capable of fending for himself. That did not stop her remembering the horrors of London and fearing Graham might somehow be caught in his cousin’s sordid world.
Graham’s return home came as something of an anticlimax. Dolly and Guy were visiting to discuss the rout Lady Reardon planned. Involved in the discussion of themes and colors, Penelope thought little of the arrival of a carriage until Sir Brian peered out the window to mention Graham had finally put in an appearance.
Penelope glanced eagerly toward the drawing room doors. The meal had already been cleared from the table, but she sent a footman back to the kitchen to warm something for his lordship.
When Graham did not come to the drawing room, Penelope excused herself and slipped into the hall. She caught him as he was about to start up the stairs. At the sound of her footsteps, he swung around. The movement made him wince, but he bowed as she hurried toward him.
He appeared worn and weary, and Penelope ached to caress the tired lines around his eyes. Instead, she studied him worriedly. “You seem quite done in, my lord. I will not keep you. Shall you have a warm bath before Cook sends up your supper?”
Graham looked relieved as he touched her chin. “That will be fine. Do we have guests?” He nodded toward the lighted drawing room.
“Your sister and Sir Brian have come to visit, and I asked Dolly Reardon and Guy for dinner. I will give them your excuses. They will understand.”
He nodded, seemed on the point of saying something, then with a shrug of his large shoulders, he turned to make his way up the long staircase. Penelope watched in consternation as he leaned more heavily than ever on his walking stick. The fact that he had not kissed her or offered words of happiness at being home had not escaped her, but her concern for his health took precedence. What had he been doing to return home in such a state?
She sent servants for water and towels and ordered that the meal should be kept warm, then returned to her guests. They appeared curious that Graham would not greet them with news of London, but no one demanded explanations. Instead, Guy escorted Dolly home a short time later, and Adelaide declared herself quite weary and demanded Sir Brian take her up to bed.
Within the hour Penelope was able to see how Graham fared. The door between their rooms was closed as usual, but boldly, she rapped upon it. He had taken her as wife. Surely that entitled her to some rights.
Graham, himself, answered. That seemed to bode well. Garbed in a maroon velvet dressing robe, his chest still damp, he looked much more the man who had left here a few weeks before. Penelope kept her relief in check as he showed no inclination to invite her in.
Puzzled by this return to coldness, she spoke with more formality than she would have done otherwise. “Is there aught I can do for you, Graham? If your leg is giving you much pain, perhaps I could wrap it in warm linen. . .”
Graham gripped the door frame and stared into Penelope’s innocent face. She had dressed her hair in fashionable swoops and curls, and several dangled about her cheeks and throat. The urge to touch flooded through him, but he knew where that would lead, and he could not allow it without revealing his injuries. He should not have come home so soon, but he had not been able to stay away.
Somehow, he had hoped he could smooth this over without telling her any of it. Wearily he could see now that he asked the impossible.
“I am fine, Penelope, mother Alexandra, not me. It’s been a long day. If you do not need me for anything, will you excuse me? I’d like to rest.”
For the first time since he’d known her, anger flashed in her fine eyes, and she stood up to him. “I have worried myself frantic for weeks, and now you treat me as if we are strangers again. I will not tolerate being shoved back into the role of non-wife. I need to talk with you. Have you seen your cousin Chadwell? Is he still in London?”
She caught him by surprise, and Graham frowned. “Yes, he is still there. What makes you ask?”
Penelope stood her ground. “I know he is your cousin and that your sense of duty protects him, but I fear he will cause you great harm by staying. You must tell him to return to his own home. That would be best for everyone.”
“What mad bee do you have in your bonnet now?” Nothing short of astounded at this declaration, Graham could only stare at her with incomprehension.
“You have as much as said that he has not a good reputation, and I know he frequents low places and has a loose way with women. Now these rumors of a madman stalking the streets of London describe him exa
ctly, and I cannot tolerate thinking he has access to Alexandra and the maids. It will not do. Even if the rumors are false, you must see how it looks. Send him away, Graham.”
For a moment he thought he had gone mad. The whole world turned upside down, and he was looking at it from behind the mask that he had worn so long it came second nature to him. He almost laughed at the thought of being trapped behind it forever. Just desserts, that would be called, and he deserved it. To keep her, she would condemn him to a life of falsehoods.
Catching himself before he succumbed to exhausted hysteria, Graham replied curtly, “You know nothing of which you speak, my lady. I bid you good night.”
He closed the door, gently perhaps, but closed nonetheless. Penelope stared at the thick oak panel with disbelief and growing anger. He could not do this! He could not simply pretend she had no self or opinion of her own!
The anger was better than the pain at his harsh rejection. She had dared to offer him a part of herself, and he had thrown her trust back in her face. She could not quite believe it hurt so much, so she let the anger replace clear thought.
She slammed the bolt home on their connecting doors and turned the key in the hall door. Not tonight would he sneak into her room like some petty thief and carry her off. Not tonight or any other night. She would give him what he bargained for in the first place— a marriage of convenience only. She would do her duty by Alexandra, use his extravagant wealth for the charity she could never afford on her own, and leave him to rot in whatever hell he was bent on creating for himself.
Going to bed knowing Graham was just on the other side of that wall drove all hope of sleep from her mind. She had not realized how much she had longed for his return so she could again enjoy the excitement of sharing his bed. She had secretly hoped that this absence would renew his ardor to such a degree that he would allow her to stay all night. What a hen-wit she must be! To think they had a marriage just because his lust had overcome his self-absorption for a few brief days!
Love Forever After Page 23
