Mistress
Page 28
“Quite right,” Iphiginia said staunchly. “You’ve been forming your opinions on hearsay, sir.”
“It’s common knowledge that the treatments are at best a fraud,” Sands retorted furiously.
“Nonsense,” Iphiginia insisted. “We have every hope of a cure, don’t we, Masters?”
Marcus gave her a dangerous look.
Polly put her hands on her hips and glowered ferociously at Sands. “I know lots o’ fine gennelmen who was miraculously cured by one o’ these treatments.”
Sands narrowed his eyes. “Is that a fact?”
“Aye, it’s a fact, all right.” Polly lifted her chin proudly. “I’ve seen gennelmen come in ‘ere what ‘adn’t been able to raise the flag fer years. When they left, they was as stiff as a poker.”
“There, you see?” Iphiginia said brightly. “A testimonial from one who should know.”
“Enough of this nonsense.” Marcus finally deigned to intervene. He drew a handful of notes out of his pocket and thrust them into Polly’s hand. “You’ve given us a fine performance, madam. You may take your bows and leave. We won’t be needing your services any longer.”
Polly snatched the notes from him. “Are ye certain?”
“Quite certain,” Marcus said.
“Well, all right, then.” Polly smiled cheerfully at Iphiginia. “Nice workin’ with ye, Mrs. Bright. Ye’ve got some potential, in me ‘umble opinion. With a bit o’ practice, I ‘ave a ‘unch ye’r get the ‘ang o’ this actin’ profession.”
“Thank you,” Iphiginia said politely. “I shall work hard to perfect my craft.”
“Reckon I’ll be on me way, then.” Polly sauntered to the side door.
Iphiginia, Marcus, and Sands watched as she let herself out of the chamber of the Goddesses of Manly Vigor.
A short silence ensued after the door closed.
Marcus broke the strange spell that seemed to have settled onto the chamber. He stepped onto the stage aid and walked along the row of stage lamps, turning them on one by one. “As the evening appears to have degenerated into a complete farce, I suggest we take our leave, Mrs. Bright.”
“Yes, of course.” Iphiginia set down her urn.
Sands scowled at Marcus. “I don’t understand any of this.”
“I think it’s safe to say that we have been the victim of an unpleasant joke, Sands.” Marcus left the last lamp burning.
“It makes no sense.” Sands shoved his hands into his pockets and began to pace the chamber. “Who would do such a thing?”
“Someone who knows that you are suspicious of my long-standing friendship with your wife, naturally.” Marcus propped one shoulder against the wall, folded his arms, and contemplated Sands. “There are any number of people in this world who take great delight in stirring troubled waters. You know that as well as I do.”
Sands gave him a cold look and continued to pace. “But what did the villain expect to happen when I arrived here tonight and discovered that you were playing games with Mrs. Bright rather than Hannah?”
Iphiginia flushed. “We were not playing games, sir.” Sands’s mouth curved derisively. “You may call this nonsense whatever you wish, madam. It is entirely your affair.”
Marcus studied Sands’s pacing figure. “I expect whoever sent you here was hoping that you would spread the tale of this night’s events far and wide’”
“What do you mean?” Sands demanded.
“I suspect that the real target of the jest was not you, but my friend Mrs. Bright,” Marcus said in a very soft voice. “I intend to see that the culprit pays for it.”
Iphiginia stared at him. It was obvious that Marcus was very serious.
Sands paused abruptly. He swung around and considered Iphiginia intently. “You believe that someone wished to see Mrs. Bright humiliated?”
“Yes.”
“But why?” Sands asked.
“Because whoever it is does not want me to marry her,” Marcus said simply.
“Marry her.” Sands stared. “You’re going to marry Mrs. Bright? Your, uh, very close friend?”
“Yes.” Marcus looked at Iphiginia. “We have not yet made a formal announcement, however, so I trust you will remain silent for the time being?”
Iphiginia opened her mouth to argue but closed it again when she realized that any protest would only cause Sands to ask more pointed questions.
Sands frowned. “I had heard the rumor that you were going to announce your engagement. But I naturally assumed you would offer for one of the young… ah, er, never mind.” He coughed discreetly and inclined his head at Iphiginia. “Please accept my best wishes, Mrs. Bright.”
“Thank you.” She glowered at Marcus, furious with him for forcing her into the awkward situation of verifying the marriage. “Let us hope that Dr. Hardstaff’s cure takes effect before we celebrate our wedding night.”
Sands grinned. He suddenly looked much younger and a good deal more likable. “I shall wish you the best of luck in that regard, also. By the bye, you need have no fear that I will tell anyone about this evening’s events.”
“I appreciate that,” Iphiginia said.
“I doubt anyone would even believe me. Whole thing is too bloody outrageous.” Sands started toward the door. “Do you know something? I believe the two of you were made for each other. Now, if you will forgive me, I’ll be on my way.” He cast a derisive glance at the paintings on the walls of the chamber as he opened the door. “Unlike yourself, Masters, I do not have any need of Dr. Hardstaff’s therapeutic treatments.”
“How very fortunate for you,” Marcus said. Silence fell once more as the door closed behind Lord Sands.
Iphiginia and Marcus listened to his receding footsteps as he went down the hall and opened the outside door.
A moment later they heard the door close. Iphiginia heaved a sigh of relief and then she rounded on Marcus. “You should he ashamed of yourself. Lord Sands will be waiting for the notices of our marriage to appear in the papers. How could you?”
“I supplied him with the only answer that was guaranteed to distract him.”
“But what will he think when he never sees the formal announcement? He’s bound to wonder if you lied to him. Perhaps he’ll conclude that he was duped.”
“I shall worry about that later. In the meantime, I have a more pressing problem on my hands.”
“Oh, really?” Iphiginia planted her hands on her hips. “And just what might that be, pray tell? Perhaps you would care to explain what you’re doing in this very odd chamber, my lord?”
The side door opened, cutting off Iphiginia’s tirade. She stared at the newcomer in shock. She had never been properly introduced to Lady Sands, but Zoe had once pointed her out at a hall.
Hannah, covered from head to foot in a dark cloak, walked out onto the stage. She smiled at Iphiginia with sad apology.
“I believe Marcus is referring to me, Mrs. Bright. I fear that I have been a nuisance to him for some time.”
Before Iphiginia could respond, the chamber door swung inward with a small squeak. Lord Sands walked back into the room. He carried his shoes in one hand.
“As long as Masters is going to explain matters,” Sands said in an icy voice, “he may as well explain them to all concerned. And when he has finished, he can explain them again to me at dawn over a brace of pistols.”
Hannah stared at him as though she were seeing a ghost. “Dear God, no.” Her hand went to her mouth. And then she crumpled to her knees, sobbing.
“Lady Sands.” Iphiginia hurried toward her.
“Hannah.” Sands dropped his shoes and started toward his wife.
“One would think,” Marcus said to the room in general, that one would he able to get a simple medical treatment done with some degree of privacy.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Lady Sands, please, you mustn’t carry on so.” Iphiginia pulled a hankie out of her little white satin reticule. She bent down and thrust it into Hannah’s shaking finge
rs. “Everything will be fine.”
“Thank you.” Hannah blew her nose and risked an anguished look at her stony-faced spouse. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Bright. I never meant for this to happen. Marcus was right. I could not conceal the truth forever from my husband.”
“What truth? What the devil is going on here?” Sands looked at Marcus, his face twisted with rage and pain. “And don’t give me any more rubbish about taking one of Hardstaff’s treatments, damn your eyes.”
“Hannah is the only one who can tell you the truth,” Marcus said. “I have given her my word that I would keep her secrets.”
“What secrets do you share with my wife?” Sands exploded. “Did you trick her into coming here so that you could seduce her in that brothel bed over there?”
“No,” Marcus said calmly.
“Of course he did not do any such thing.” Iphiginia straightened and glowered at Sands. “Really, sir, that is beyond anything. Masters would never seduce another man’s wife.”
Sands turned on her, his face still tight with fury. “How would you know?”
“Because I know him very, very well.” Iphiginia patted Hannah’s shoulder. “He is incapable of that sort of unprincipled behavior.”
Marcus gazed at her with an unreadable expression. Sands eyed Iphiginia intently. “How do you come to be here tonight, Mrs. Bright?”
“I received a note, just as you did, sir,” Iphiginia said. “I arrived only moments before you and hid behind the curtain.” She swept a hand out to indicate the erotic paintings, and the statuary. “Obviously, someone intended that I discover Masters together with Lady Sands in a compromising position. I suspect you were meant to do the same.”
“Someone staged this entire affair?” Sands set his jaw. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“It’s the only logical assumption, is it not, Masters?”
“Yes.” Marcus regarded the small group thoughtfully. “Hannah and I both received notes, too.”
“They could not have come from the blackmailer,” Iphiginia said. “Mrs. Wycherly is dead. Besides, there was no demand for money in this night’s work. Some other malicious person is behind this.”
Sands stared at each of them in turn, more frustrated than ever. “What blackmailers?”
Hannah raised her head with sad dignity. “Someone blackmailed me, my lord. We believe it was Mrs. Wycherly from the Wycherly Agency. She also blackmailed an acquaintance of Mrs. Bright’s. She was murdered by one of her other victims.”
“That was our initial conclusion,” Marcus said.
“Good Lord,” Sands whispered. He glanced at Marcus and then strode toward his wife. He pulled Hannah up into his arms. “Tell me everything, Hannah. For God’s sake, the truth can be no worse than what I have been forced to imagine for the past fortnight.”
Hannah’s eyes filled with tears. “You will turn from me in disgust.”
“Never,” Sands vowed. “Never, my love. You cannot have done anything that will give me a disgust of you. The only way in which you could break my heart would be to turn to another.”
“Oh, Edward, I killed him.” Hannah pressed her face into his shoulder. “I shot him dead. And I do not regret the murder. I only feared your discovery of it.”
“Who did you kill?” Sands moved his hand gently on her shivering back.
“Spalding,” Hannah blurted. Sands frowned.
“Your first husband?”
“I killed him one night when he came home drunk and started to beat me. I could not endure any more of his rages.” Hannah sobbed heavily. “I could not take the never-ending fear. The cruelty. I feared for the life of any child I might bear. Oh, Edward, I was always so afraid. Only Marcus discovered the truth.”
Sands looked at Marcus over the top of Hannah’s head. “Masters? How are you involved in this? The old rumors always labeled you as the killer.”
“I walked in five minutes after she had shot him,” Marcus said evenly. “I got rid of the body for her. Tossed it into the river. Made it appear as though he had been killed by a footpad.”
“That was the least of what he did.” Hannah sniffed back tears. “He also bore the brunt of the suspicions and the gossip afterward. Everyone believed that Marcus profited from Spalding’s death. But the truth was, my husband had cheated him and many others. The investment pool they had formed was on the verge of bankruptcy.”
“I went to London that day to confront Spalding with the facts of his deceit,” Marcus explained. “I arrived late in the evening and went straight to his house on Fulston Street. I discovered Hannah with the pistol still in her hand.”
“I was in a state of near-collapse.” Hannah looked at Sands. “Panic-stricken would be a better word. I was afraid that Spalding was dead but terrified of what would happen next. Masters took care of everything.”
“I see.” Sands gave Marcus a speculative look. “You kept quiet not only about Hannah’s involvement in Spalding’s death, but also about the financial state of the investment pool, did you not?”
“I had little choice,” Marcus admitted. “There was too much at stake.”
Hannah pushed a strand of hair back behind her ears. “If word of the instability of the pool had gotten out, there would have been panic. The investors would have sold their shares at a terrible loss. So many people would have been ruined.” She smiled wistfully. “Marcus took charge of the investment pool and salvaged everything.”
“And got very rich in the process,” Sands observed neutrally.
Marcus shrugged but offered no further explanation.
“Oh, Edward, I am so dreadfully sorry that you had to learn the truth this way,” Hannah whispered. “Marcus insisted I should tell, all. He claimed it was the only way to remove the venom from the blackmailer’s fangs, but I was afraid to confide the truth to you. I loved you too much to risk turning you against me.”
“I always suspected what sort of man Spalding was.” Sands gripped her arms gently and pulled her against him. “I heard the rumors. But you know how such things are ignored by Polite Society.”
“I know,” Hannah mumbled.
“Listen to me, Hannah. I am glad that you shot him. Do you hear me? I only wish that I had had the privilege of doing so myself. If I had been acquainted with you then, I would have done so.”
“Edward.” Hannah held him more tightly.
“I told you, Hannah, there is nothing on the face of this earth that could turn me away from you except to learn that you loved another.”
“Never,” Hannah vowed. “You are the only man I have ever loved. The only one I will ever love.”
Sands touched her hair. “Then from now on, will you also trust me?”
“Yes.” Relief and joy were mingled in Hannah’s voice. “I am so sorry that I did not tell you everything long ago.”
Sands looked at Marcus. “It would appear that I am in your debt, sir. Not only for helping Hannah that night, but for shielding her from all the questions and suspicions that ensued.”
Marcus shrugged. “It was nothing.”
Iphiginia smiled proudly. “That is Masters for you, Lord Sands. A gentleman to his fingertips.”
———
“It was Hannah who made me into a gentleman.” Marcus thrust his legs out in front of him and leaned back against the seat of his coach. He stared out the window into the night and thought about the past. “She taught me everything I needed to know so that I could move confidently in Society.”
“One cannot make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,” Iphiginia said. “Lady Sands may have given you a polite polish, but the truth is, you must have been born with the proper instincts for noble behavior.”
Marcus glanced at her, amused. “I was born a farmer, Iphiginia.”
She dismissed that with an airy wave of her gloved hand. “What has that got to do with it? You would be a true nobleman if you fished for a living or sold vegetables out of the back of a cart.”
He was touched by her na
ive faith in him. He tried to hide it behind a blandly derisive expression. “How very democratic of you. You sound like an American.”
“As far as I am concerned, the title of gentleman belongs to those who carry it, not to those who happen to be born into the right families.”
“That is not a commonly held view.”
Her mouth curved in the shadows. “I rarely hold common views.”
Marcus grinned briefly. “I am well aware of that. It is one of your more endearing qualities.”
“Only a man who also holds uncommon views would appreciate such a quality in a female.”
“No doubt.” Marcus went back to his brooding contemplation of the night. It was a relief to be freed from the burden of Hannah’s secret, he thought. Normally such things did not bother him, but he had not liked having to keep the truth from Iphiginia. She was the first woman with whom he had ever wanted to be completely open.
Having a confidante was a new experience for him. It was a simple pleasure but a profound one.
“Marcus?”
“What are we going to do now? Mrs. Wycherly is dead. She could’ not have sent those notes tonight. Who is behind this new trouble?”
Marcus brought his thoughts back to the issue at hand. “I don’t know yet, but I have a theory that whoever killed Mrs. Wycherly may have found her list of blackmail victims.”
“And that person has decided to carry on where she left off,” Iphiginia asked.
“It’s possible.”
Iphiginia frowned in concentration. “It makes no sense. By forcing the four of us into a confrontation tonight, he risked ruining the scheme. Hannah revealed her secrets to her husband. She can no longer be blackmailed.”
“Both you and Sands saw Hannah and me in a thoroughly compromising situation tonight, Iphiginia.”
“Yes, but I knew immediately that you were not guilty of seducing Hannah, And Sands did not believe it for very long, either.”
“No one,” Marcus said very deliberately, “least of all the kind of person who is willing to pick up where a blackmailer left off, could have predicted that outcome.”