Jo Beverley - [Malloren 01]

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by My Lady Notorious


  “The household is accustomed, and can do this at the drop of a hat.”

  “And with a great deal of work,” Chastity pointed out.

  “Of course. Rothgar is immensely rich. He considers it his duty to employ people.”

  “My father is even richer, I believe. He counts the candles and checks the meals served in the servants’ hall.”

  “Well, have some sympathy,” said Cyn with a twinkle of amusement. “He’s had to support the greedy Vernhams all these years.”

  That was bringing matters to mind with a vengeance. Chastity shivered. “When are things to happen?”

  “When the time is right. Why don’t we go and watch the gaming?”

  “I thought you didn’t like gambling.”

  He guided her out of the room. “I said I don’t like to gamble for money. It is very relaxing to see fools who can afford it throwing money away.”

  They watched as Bute calmly lost thousands, then won some of it back; as Princess Augusta almost lost a bracelet worth a great deal more. Chastity was not surprised to see old Lady Fanshaw hunched over her cards like a vulture. She had doubtless been invited, but if not she would have turned up anyway, drawn by the rumor of play like a carrion-eater lured by the smell of a rotting corpse.

  A footman presented a note to Cyn. He read it, then slipped it into his pocket. “The Garden Room,” he said.

  Chastity’s heart started pounding as he led her from the room. “Father?” she whispered.

  “It doesn’t say.” He stopped in a quiet corner to kiss her. “Be brave, Charles. This time, you are not alone.”

  Chapter 21

  The Garden Room was merely a small saloon decorated with wallpaper featuring trellises covered with flowering vines. Through wide glass doors, it could open into the conservatory, which itself led to an outside terrace and the knot garden. At this chilly time of year, the glass doors were covered by a curtain and a fire warmed the room.

  Cyn and Chastity entered the small room to find Henry Vernham sitting in a chair guarded by Brand Malloren. Vernham started nervously.

  Cyn ignored him to seat Chastity on the sofa and take a place beside her. “Mr. Vernham,” he said amiably, “I hope you are being well cared for. Been given all you require?”

  “I suppose so.” Despite the betraying glitter in his eyes, the man was able to form his words correctly. Clearly Rothgar had been right as always, and Vernham was a hardened drinker. “Surprised you care, though,” Vernham said with a sneer. “Your big brother reined you in, has he?”

  Cyn smiled. “The condemned prisoner should always be served a hearty meal.”

  Vernham paled and tried to get to his feet, but Brand pushed him down. Before it came to a fight, the door opened and the Earl of Walgrave stalked in with Lindle and two hefty attendants trailing them. Rothgar and Fort entered behind them.

  Despite Cyn’s reassuring presence, Chastity’s heart started to pound.

  The small room was crowded, but her father created a space around himself as if by natural right. Chastity noticed he had a new cane, ebony with gold decoration, and rather more solid than was his habit. He showed no nervousness. His eyes passed over her as if she were a stranger. Defiantly, she took off her mask and pushed back the hood of her domino.

  “Well, Rothgar?” Walgrave demanded. “May I know the reason behind this? I am displeased, most displeased, to find you have meddled in my family’s affairs.”

  Rothgar took a stand by the glowing fire. “But our families are to be felicitously joined.”

  The earl’s eyes impaled Chastity. “That shameless trollop? You are welcome to her, but she’s no child of mine.”

  Cyn’s hand comforted Chastity’s and she met her father’s sneering gaze. He looked away—at Henry Vernham.

  Stark terror marked Vernham’s face. Chastity realized that without the crucial evidence, Vernham was naked to Walgrave’s malice. However, she noted something guarded in her father’s glance at Vernham. Perhaps the earl was not entirely sure that Henry Vernham was helpless.

  “So be it,” said Rothgar equably. “I merely thought to do you a kindness for family’s sake.” He took a contemplative pinch of snuff. “In fact, I insist. My own generosity at times astonishes me. I believe Mr. Vernham has something you want.”

  “I believe he has,” said Walgrave with a malignant smile. “Do I understand you will allow me to retrieve it?”

  Rothgar gestured, “Please.”

  “Damme,” cried Vernham, again trying to struggle to his feet. “I have nothing. Nothing!”

  The earl, however, had focused again on Rothgar. “Perhaps I should beware of Mallorens bearing gifts.”

  Chastity suddenly realized the numbers were in her father’s favor. There were three Mallorens here and four in her father’s party, including the two attendants. There was Fort, but she could not be sure how he would side when the future of the earldom hung in the balance. Vernham would fight for himself.

  If it came to it, she would do her part, but she feared she would be a lightweight in this company.

  Rothgar took another delicate pinch of snuff and brushed away a few specks. “It is always wise to be wary, Walgrave. In this case, however, I have reason to be generous. I cannot allow a taint to come into my family with your daughter.”

  The earl let out a crack of laughter. “Gads, man, you’re taking in a gutter-full!”

  “Father!” exclaimed Fort. Cyn surged to his feet.

  Walgrave turned on his son. “Are you on their side, boy? You’re a fool then. If the chit wasn’t debauched by Vernham, then she was debauched by Malloren.”

  Cyn’s sword hissed from its scabbard, but Rothgar raised his hand. Cyn froze, cold eyes on the earl.

  Rothgar turned to Vernham. “My dear sir, are you an innocent after all? Did you not have your wicked way with Lady Chastity?”

  Vernham was clearly terrified out of his wits. His eyes were fixed on Cyn’s drawn sword, even though it was not pointed at him. “No, of course not! Hardly touched her.”

  “It must have been a prank gone awry. And you nobly offered to wed her to repair the damage you had so inadvertently caused.”

  “Yes, yes. If she was a virgin when I climbed into her bed, she was one when I climbed out.”

  “If?” demanded Cyn, and now the rapier did point at Vernham, inches from his terrified eyes.

  “She was. She was!” he babbled. “He had her hymen broken to stop her proving her innocence. But that was later!”

  All eyes turned to Walgrave.

  He was unmoved. “Gibberish. If you seek to whitewash the girl this way, Rothgar, you’ll fail.” He looked down his nose at Vernham. “I’ll have the paper, wretch, and let you live.”

  Vernham shrank back. “I don’t have it, I tell you!”

  “Then we’ll take you apart piece by piece to make sure—”

  The door opened.

  Everyone in the room turned to stare as a woman entered. Cyn even lowered his sword from Vernham’s face. A stranger. No, not a stranger, thought Chastity. She gasped with horror when she recognized the woman who had stolen her proof of virtue.

  She was tall and handsome, if one did not note the hardness of her eyes and mouth. She was dressed as richly as any lady in the house.

  “Ah, Mirabelle,” said Rothgar. “Welcome.”

  Mirabelle gazed around the room with infinite cynicism. “I was paid by the Earl of Walgrave,” she said clearly, “to break the maidenhead of Lady Chastity, his daughter. All the evidence spoke of her being completely untouched by man.” A slight smile curved her pointed lips. “I am more in the business of repairing what has inconveniently been broken . . .”

  “Is this supposed to count for anything?” asked the earl. “A woman such as that can be bought for a few guineas.”

  “On the contrary, my lord,” said Mirabelle. “I do not so much as blow a gentleman’s nose for less than twenty.” With that, she nodded to Rothgar and swept out of the room.


  Rothgar turned to Vernham. “As you are innocent, why not give the earl his document, then you may leave.”

  “I don’t have it, I tell you!” Vernham exclaimed. “Verity has it in one of her damn pockets.”

  “Then perhaps we should send for Lady Verity and the letter. Lord Thornhill, would you oblige?”

  Chastity saw her father react to the word “letter,” which told him Rothgar knew what the document was. He turned to sneer at his son. “Go and be Rothgar’s lackey, boy. It’s all you’re good for.”

  Fort’s lips tightened, but he left the room.

  “While we wait,” said Rothgar, “why don’t you tell us, Mr. Vernham, how you came to be in Lady Chastity’s bed without her consent, and without her raising the alarm? It’s a trick I could use on occasion.”

  Vernham’s wits were clearly scrambled by drink and fear, and he didn’t see the strange turn the conversation had taken. He laughed, “She sleeps like the dead. An army could get in the bed with her and she’d scarce stir. I had to pinch her to wake her when the witnesses arrived.”

  “You can’t have counted on her deep sleep, surely?” Rothgar inquired mildly.

  “Walgrave told me,” said Vernham, and then looked nervously at the earl.

  The earl looked death back at him but said nothing. If Rothgar hoped to force him into an incriminating admission, he was failing.

  Chastity wondered if she could break her father’s control again.

  She rose, dodging Cyn’s restraining hand. “And my father didn’t care a fig for me, did you, you monster?” She took an insolent stance in front of Walgrave and laughed at him. “You must have thought it would all be so easy, but I’ve thwarted you at every turn!”

  She saw his lips form a snarl.

  “If I’d married Henry Vernham, none of this would have happened, would it? But I laughed in your face! So you decided to force me. You gave that man the key to my room, then brought the cream of Society to be witnesses. You as good as debauched me yourself, you stinking hypocrite!”

  She was ready for his use of the slashing cane and danced out of the way. Cyn stepped forward, sword ready.

  The earl grasped his cane and twisted it to unsheathe a blade. He tossed it to his henchman. “Lindle!”

  Cyn smiled lovingly. “Ah, so you are Lindle. You really don’t want to do this, you know.”

  Lindle came at him. Cyn danced back. “You are badly outmatched,” said Cyn, “and cannot possibly prevail. Is it worth death to do that man’s bidding?”

  Lindle’s expression did not change, and he wore that strange smile. “Stop crowing, cockerel, and fight.”

  The swords clicked briefly, then—almost idly—Cyn gashed Lindle’s cheek. The man cried out and pressed a hand to the wound. Blood welled between his fingers.

  Cyn’s point now rested at his neck. “I don’t think your smile will ever be quite the same.” He pushed with the sword and the man staggered back, until he was against a wall and had nowhere else to go. “Now,” said Cyn, “did Mistress Mirabelle break Lady Chastity’s hymen on the earl’s orders?”

  Truly Lindle must have some deformity of the mouth, for he was still smiling in a ghastly way as he flashed a desperate look at his master.

  The earl ignored him as if none of this had anything to do with him at all.

  “Yes,” Lindle choked.

  “You were there?” asked Cyn.

  “Yes.” Blood still poured through his fingers. That casual cut had been deep and the man looked ready to collapse.

  “And did the earl arrange for Mr. Vernham to be caught in his daughter’s bed?”

  “Yes!” gasped Lindle. “On the earl’s orders, I let him in, I encouraged him. The paltry worm didn’t think it would work. But once he realized how deep she slept, he had a merry time touching her up.”

  Chastity felt sick. Cyn snarled, and for a moment it looked as if he would skewer the man, but he moved back and lowered his sword. He bowed slightly to his brother. “My apologies for interrupting your discussion.”

  “Not at all,” said Rothgar. “Walgrave? Why not admit it? You doubtless had your reasons.”

  But Walgrave held firm. “I deny all of it. I thought Lindle had more courage than to spew lies on command, but I was mistaken.”

  Verity came in with Nathaniel and Fort. She paled at the sight of her father, and gasped to see Lindle covered in blood.

  “Lady Verity,” said Rothgar, “have you retrieved the paper mentioned earlier?”

  “Yes,” said Verity, and produced the folded, sealed paper, walking forward to give it to Rothgar.

  Walgrave snatched it, and in one move threw it into the fire and pulled out a pistol. “Keep back!” he cried. “No one try to snatch that out!”

  They all watched as the paper blackened and then caught, to flame into ash.

  Walgrave started to laugh. “At last! Free! Ha, Rothgar, for all your clever tricks, you’ve cleared my way. You can have my damned family, every plague-ridden one of them. May they make your life hell as they’ve made mine!”

  “Hell surely comes from the company there,” said Rothgar, looking thoughtfully at the ashes of the evidence. “You appear, however, to have won. Perhaps you could be noble in victory and admit that your daughter did not lose her maidenhead to a man.”

  The earl was giddy with liberation. “Certainly,” he declared. “Though what the devil good it will do you I can’t imagine.”

  “Perhaps in writing,” said Rothgar, indicating a desk where paper and ink stood ready.

  The earl hesitated, but he was still grinning madly. It was as if success had succeeded where threats had failed, and tipped him into insanity. “Why not? But I’ll write that I did it to force her into a necessary marriage. It doesn’t alter the fact that Vernham was in her bed, and I deny any part in that.”

  Chastity was weighed by a dull sense of failure. Rothgar was making the best of things, but without the evidence of treason, nothing could be done. Nathaniel could soon be under attack, and nothing that had happened here could do her any good.

  “What?” cried Vernham, leaping to his feet. “You won’t put the blame on me, you devil! It was all your plan, every bit of it, just to stop my brother from using that letter. It may have gone, but I know it word for word. I can still tell the world—”

  Walgrave turned and shot him.

  The crack of the pistol reverberated in the small room and Chastity clapped her hands over her ringing ears. Vernham crashed back into his chair, a look of amazement on his face, blood spreading over his chest. He tried to speak, then grimaced in sudden agony as he died.

  Cyn dropped his sword to pull Chastity into his arms, as Verity was held by Nathaniel. Chastity clung to him, but then pushed away to stare at her father. “That was cold-blooded murder.” She looked around at all the men. “You can’t let him get away with cold-blooded murder.”

  Her father dusted his sheet of paper with fine sand and delicately tapped it clean, then held it out. “Here, girl. Take this and hold your tongue. Learn to keep out of men’s affairs.”

  Chastity grabbed the paper, but threw it aside. “Men’s affairs? Men’s affairs have ruined me!”

  “I’m pleased you at least realize the finality of that.”

  “And you don’t care. You, my father, don’t care that I am unjustly vilified. How can you think you can serve England when you cannot serve your family?”

  “My family exists to serve me,” he said, rising. He shoved her carelessly out of the way.

  She grabbed Lindle’s sword from the floor, and despite the outcry, lunged at her father. He deflected the blade with the pistol, but the point slashed into his sleeve, gashing his arm. He snarled, and swung the pistol viciously at her head. Chastity felt it brush her temple as Cyn tackled her to the ground and safety.

  “. . . in the noble house of Stuart we see fortitude and verity, accompanied by victorious chastity, all virtues dedicated to the greatest good of England.”

&nb
sp; Everyone froze. Silence fell over the room as they all turned to where Rothgar stood, reading from a document. A bloodstained, slightly chewed document.

  “No,” choked Walgrave.

  Lindle giggled.

  “You really should have read it before you burned it, shouldn’t you?” asked Rothgar mildly.

  “No!” howled the earl. He raised his pistol and fired, but it was already discharged, and merely clicked. He hurled it at Rothgar. It missed.

  “Kill him!” he raged at his two henchmen. Still on the floor, half under Cyn, Chastity saw that at last the earl was mad, but would he cause the deaths of all of them?

  The two men had merely been goggle-eyed observers to all this mayhem. Now they looked at each other and did nothing.

  “Kill him, or I’ll see you hang! I’ll ruin you. I’ll ruin your families . . .”

  The men looked to Rothgar for help.

  Rothgar smiled. “Now, my lord,” he said to the purple-faced earl, “you dance to my tune rather than the Vernhams’. Do you think you will like it any better?”

  “Never,” snarled Walgrave. He plunged a hand into the pocket of the nearest man and pulled out a pistol. The man, clearly terrified by all these goings-on, stood like a dummy and did nothing.

  By the time Walgrave raised the gun to fire it, however, both Brand and Rothgar had firearms aimed at him.

  “An interesting situation, isn’t it?” asked Rothgar, “You could kill me, but you will surely die. Are you ready to meet your maker?”

  Walgrave’s mouth twitched in a rictus of hate. “I’d rather die than give you the victory, Rothgar. You’ve been a thorn in my flesh for too long.”

  “I’m pleased to be appreciated.”

  “Give me that document, and no one need die.”

  “No,” said Rothgar. “But I give you my word not to use it as long as you live quietly at Walgrave Towers, take no further part in government affairs, and do not concern yourself with your offspring anymore.”

  “What?” cried Walgrave. “Dance to your piping for the rest of my life. Never, you fiend!” He waved his pistol around the room wildly.

 

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