by Jenna Jaxon
“Of course I wish to marry him.” What an odd question for Kinellan to pose. “Now we do not have to wait for his brother’s . . . demise.” That would be a godsend in itself. She’d hated to think they’d just been waiting, like a pair of vultures, for the elder Mr. Granger to die. “We will be able to marry and start our lives anew, together, immediately.”
“Then you must have proper settlements drawn up this time. I suspect Mr. Granger will insist upon it, as whatever is not stipulated as yours will, upon your marriage, revert to him.”
“You said before that there was another side to good fortune. Is that one of them? That I must guard it at every turn?”
“If you wish to keep it, my dear, then yes. You will have people, complete strangers, suddenly cozying up to you, begging your assistance. If you are to keep your fortune, you must learn to say no to them.”
“But there is so much . . .” She could do so many things with her newfound wealth.
“There won’t be if you do not set rules on the spending of it. Given his current occupation, I suspect your future husband will be very good at that.” Kinellan glanced out the window. “We are slowing, probably at Braintree to change the horses.” He smiled at her. “Not much farther.”
Perhaps another hour or so and she’d see Hugh again. She’d missed him dreadfully and it had only been two days. But now they need not part, ever again. As the carriage pulled into the coaching inn, light flakes of snow began to fall, a reminder that the holiday season would soon be upon them.
Despite the sorrows of the past year, this coming Christmas would be the best she’d ever known. With a new husband and newfound means with which to celebrate, the coming season of peace on earth and joy to all mankind would be one she would likely never forget.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lights were blazing in Kersey Hall when Kinellan’s carriage pulled up to the front door. Figures bobbed and twirled in one of the upstairs rooms. The Christmas house party had begun the day before and seemed to be progressing well. Maria doubted it would continue so.
Kinellan handed her and Jane down from the carriage. “Will you go find Hatley and Nurse, please, Jane. Tell them to pack our things immediately. I don’t care if they have to stuff them in a flour sack, by the time I finish my talk with Lord Kersey, I want us to be able to leave.”
“I will take care of it, my dear.” Jane looked wistfully at her. “I only wish I could witness your conference with Lord Kersey.”
Kinellan lifted the knocker and let it fall. “I promise to give you a full report, my dear.”
Chambers opened the door. “Lady Kersey, Lady John, Lord Kinellan. His lordship will be pleased.”
“I highly doubt that,” Kinellan muttered as they entered.
After handing her pelisse to the butler, Jane headed directly for the stairs.
“Where is Lord Kersey?” Maria pulled off her coat and gave it to a nearby footman. “With his guests?”
“Yes, my lady. In the family drawing room.”
“Ask him to please attend me in the blue receiving room. Tell him . . .” She shot a look at Kinellan, who nodded. “Tell him it is a matter of grave importance that I speak with him.”
“You will not be joining the party, my lady?”
“No, Chambers. I plan to have one of my own.”
Hesitating only a moment over that cryptic reply, the butler bowed and left.
“This way, my lord.” She led Kinellan into the room where they’d met so abruptly three days ago.
“A room that has seen its share of interesting conversations, I’ll wager.” Kinellan headed straight to a sideboard and poured himself a drink. “I’m sorry there’s no sherry, Maria. I daresay you could use some fortification as well, what with the cold ride and the coming interview.”
“Thank you, no.” Maria twisted her hands together, still uncertain what she was actually going to say to Lord Kersey. “I believe my anger at his treachery continues to warm me just fine.”
With a chuckle, the marquess downed his drink and set the glass on the sideboard. “I’ve rarely looked so forward to a woman speaking her mind. It’s much more entertaining when one is not the target.”
The door opened and Lord Kersey entered, a broad smile on his face. His cheeks were a bright pink, from the exercise of the dancing or from his cups, was unclear. Maria would wager on the latter.
“Cousin Maria!” The jovial host headed straight for her and took her hands. “We believed you would not return for some days yet.” He glanced at Kinellan. “My lord. We weren’t exactly sure where you had gone.”
“I’ve been to London, to see Mr. Clarke.”
Kersey dropped her hands as though they had suddenly caught fire. The underlying color seemed to leech out of Kersey’s skin before her eyes, leaving hectic red blotches on his cheeks and nose. “You did?”
“Yes.” Needing to put some distance between them, Maria strolled to the fireplace. “He was quite surprised that I knew nothing about my husband’s will, or of his own visit to Kersey Hall over two weeks ago.” She turned to face the scoundrel again. “Of course, he assumed you were indeed the gentleman he mistook you for and would actually give me the letters he sent telling me of my inheritance.”
“Cousin Maria.” His now leering smile made her skin crawl. “You were still distraught over your husband’s death. I didn’t want to worry you over financial matters at a time like that.”
“The only time I felt truly distraught, my lord, was when your son tried to ravish me in the woods.” Anger bubbled up from deep within her. “I believed at the time he acted simply from lust, but now I understand the true depths of his despicable plan.” She stared into Kersey’s wide, horror-filled eyes. “Your despicable plan to have him compromise me so I would have to marry him and forfeit all my inheritance to my new husband.”
“Cousin . . . Maria.” The earl trembled, his hands shaking so badly he seemed to have developed palsy. “It was never that. Anthony has been attracted to you from the day you met. Unfortunately, he does have a reputation, well-deserved I’m sorry to say, as a rake. Gentlemen like that allow their passions to rule them.”
“I’d hardly call someone with such savage, animalistic behavior a ‘gentleman,’ my lord.” From the sideboard, where he’d poured himself another drink, Kinellan scowled at Kersey with such intensity the earl cringed. “You should have taken a horse whip to him the first time he tried to assault a woman.”
“Fortunately, I managed to escape his advances. And as I am quitting Kersey Hall this very night, I expect never to see your son or you again, unless it is at some public function.” She glared at him. “In which case I pray you, do not address me if you see me. I will not be speaking to either of you.”
“Cousin—”
“Do not call me ‘cousin.’” Fury rising, Maria darted toward him and he jumped back. “I refuse to claim kinship with someone who would try to take my inheritance from me, and by such brutal and nefarious means.”
“My lady, please calm yourself.” Worry lines had popped out on Kersey’s forehead. “Certainly we can come to some amicable agreement?”
“Agreement about what?” The man was mad if he thought she would agree to anything he proposed.
“Your inheritance, of course.” The earl twisted his hands together.
“What agreement can you possibly imagine I would come to with you about my rightful legacy?” Her words dripped venom.
“Your husband had no right to leave you . . . that legacy.” Kersey puffed out his chest. “The loss of that property could destabilize the earldom.”
“What property are you talking about?” Maria fought to keep her countenance. “How would you know what was in that will, my lord? Mr. Clarke said he did not share its contents with you.”
“I don’t know, exactly. But anything taken from the earldom will weaken both it and the Kersey heritage. Your husband—”
“My late husband was a rake and a cad and a thoroughly
irresponsible man. Just like your son.” Glaring at the earl, Maria stalked toward him. “That will was possibly the one selfless thing he did in his entire life. And Mr. Clarke assures me that all the properties listed in it were not part of the entail and therefore within his legal right to bequeath to me for my maintenance and that of our child.”
“Properties?” A fine sweat had broken out on Kersey’s brow. “He left you more than one?”
A snort of amusement from Kinellan brought a smile to Maria’s lips as well. Time to leave.
“Lord Kersey, I will bid you adieu. You showed me what I believed to be kindness, but was actually a ploy to steal my future. Therefore, I am removing to London until I decide which of my properties I will be residing in permanently. Enjoy your Christmas party.” She pulled on her gloves. “Your greenery in the hallway is quite lovely. And when the party is done, if you decide to come to London to further your celebration, be sure you bespeak your lodgings beforehand. For I can assure you, the Kersey townhouse will be occupied.”
The stunned earl staggered backward.
Heart beating so hard she was almost dizzy, Maria took Kinellan’s arm and he escorted her from the room. Now to find her cousin, her child, and her maids. She couldn’t wait to scrape the mud of this place from her shoes forever.
* * *
Excitement growing as the carriage neared Wingate, Maria gave Jane’s hand a squeeze.
“Ouch.” Her cousin snatched it away, shaking it. “Do restrain your exuberance, my dear. I will need the use of that hand without broken bones.”
“I cannot help it, Jane. I cannot wait to tell Hugh about this miraculous change in circumstances.” She’d thought of nothing else, save her harsh words for Lord Kersey, almost since they left London. The surprise on his face would be one of her fondest memories in the years to come. Years together with him.
The carriage rolled up to the little manor house, where a light shone in a single room. Probably a sitting room where Hugh and his sister would read or talk in the evenings after dinner. Soon it would be the three of them, talking, laughing, sitting companionably. In years to come, little Jane would be with them and later their own children together. Just as her family had been when she was growing up.
When the carriage stopped, Kinellan helped her down. “Would you like us to go with you, my dear?”
Jane poked her head out the door. “It will be a shock to him, Maria. As much a one as it was for you. Perhaps we should accompany you.”
“Thank you, but no. I want this to be a private moment between us.” She could picture Hugh’s astonishment, then delight. He would take her in his arms and kiss her as if they stood under the mistletoe. A moment in their lives they would remember forever.
Maria straightened her pelisse, adjusted her hat, took a great breath and marched to the door. Her knock brought the butler, and she was shown in immediately. “May I speak to Mr. Granger, please?”
“Yes, my lady.” He divested her of her coat and hat. “Will you come this way?” He showed her into a small, neat receiving room, done in dark greens and reds. Very festive for this time of year. “I’ll tell Mr. Granger you are here.”
Nodding, she walked to the fireplace, where a fire had been recently banked, and held out her hands to the glowing embers. Excitement seemed to have gotten the better of her, for she now seemed to run hot and cold. Her hands were like ice, but her body burned like a furnace. Was this the way it was supposed to be when life turned into a fairy story? All her dreams were about to come true.
“Maria.”
She whirled around but Hugh was already at her side, enfolding her in his arms.
“Lord, but I’m glad to see you.” He hugged her to him, and the wonderful feel of him pressed to her once more brought tears to her eyes. “Have you just—you’re crying.” Leaning back to peer at her face, he cupped her face. “What is wrong, my love?”
“Nothing.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Why did she never remember a handkerchief? “I missed you so much is all. I didn’t know quite how much until now.”
“Here.” He produced one of his handkerchiefs, and the scent of citrus—now permanently linked to him in her mind—filled her head. Blotting the tears, he carefully patted her cheeks dry. “Now, come with me to the drawing room. Bella and I sit there after dinner.”
“Can we stay here? I have news from London I would like to tell you alone.”
“Of course.” He led her to the damasked sofa and sat beside her, holding her hand in a gentle grip. “What is it, sweetheart?” His deep voice had softened. “Was Mr. Clarke’s news disappointing?”
“Oh, no, Hugh.” Maria couldn’t contain her smile. She’d been waiting so long for this moment. “The news is impossibly good, better than I could ever have dreamed.” Leaning against his shoulder, just to feel his warmth, she laced her fingers through his. “I never thought I would say this, but Alan has finally made amends for the callous way he treated me all during our marriage. In the end, I suppose, he wished to leave this world with his conscience, not completely clear, but at least at peace, having knowledge that our child and I would be taken care of in any eventuality.”
“I am glad of it, my love.” He squeezed her hand and it radiated throughout her. “I remember him that morning, very somber, not at all like his usual devil-may-care self.”
“Do you think he knew he would not return from the dueling ground?”
“I think he did. Sometimes a man knows when his luck has run dry.” Slipping his arm around her, Hugh leaned his head against hers. “Did anyone tell you that he died well?”
She shook her head. “No. No one wanted to tell me anything for fear it would harm the baby.”
“I spoke to his second, after I returned from London. He told me that Lord Kersey seemed calm, even poised as he took his position. When the handkerchief dropped, he raised his weapon in good time and fired. The bullet lodged in Lord Remington’s shoulder, but didn’t wound him badly enough that he couldn’t shoot. So Lord Kersey stood there and waited some seconds, without flinching, while Remington took careful aim before shooting him in the heart.”
The image of the golden-haired man she had worshiped for such a short period of time, struck down in a crumpled heap, brought back the tears. She pressed her face into Hugh’s shoulder and sobbed.
“Do not cry, my love. It was a good, clean death. A gentleman’s death, met bravely.” He handed her his handkerchief. “And a quick one, which Remington must have come to envy.”
“Why?” Maria dabbed at her eyes. She’d never thought she’d cry over Alan again.
“The wound in Remington’s shoulder became inflamed. They amputated his arm, but the infection couldn’t be contained. He died, quite probably in agony, two weeks later.”
A shiver ran down Maria’s spine. This was not supposed to be the topic of conversation this evening. She blew her nose and sat up. “I don’t want us to talk of death, Hugh. I want us to talk of life, our life together.”
“We will, my love. But you have not yet told me your good news.” Raising her hand, he placed a kiss on the back, his lips warm and alive.
“The will Alan made bequeaths me three unentailed properties, including the Kersey townhouse in London, an artwork collection that includes a Rembrandt, and half a dozen pieces of jewelry.”
As she spoke the pressure on her hand increased. Hugh’s eyes had widened until his blue eyes swam in a sea of white, then he shook his head and slipped his hand from hers. “This is true? This is what I signed in April?”
Slowly she nodded. His lovely deep voice had a gruff ring to it. Of course, he would take some time to appreciate what this meant. The shock of such a large legacy, now hers and little Jane’s, must wear off a bit before he could see how neatly this smoothed their path. “Isn’t it marvelous, my love?”
Hugh swallowed, but didn’t answer.
“Hugh? Are you going to come back—” His sister, Bella, spoke as she came into the room. “
Oh, Lady Kersey.” She curtsied, then frowned at her brother. “Hugh, why have you not brought Lady Kersey back to the drawing room? I can ring for more tea.”
“Not at the moment, Arabella.” His voice had softened when he spoke to his sister. “Lady Kersey and I have several private things to discuss. We will come to you as soon as we are done.”
A worried frown appeared on Bella’s brow. Perhaps she’d caught the strange tone in Hugh’s voice as well. “Very well. I hope to see you shortly, my lady.” With another quick curtsey, his sister left.
“Hugh, what is wrong?” The cold trickle of fear that had begun to flow through Maria’s veins became a flood. Why was Hugh not as elated as she about this unprecedented boon? “Don’t you understand? We can now marry, without fear of poverty. The income from this fortune will support us for our entire lifetimes. My child, my Jane, will be an heiress of the first water. Your sister as well. We can give her a dowry that will rival any titled lady’s.” She grasped his hands, then shrank back, stunned to find them cold as death. “Dear lord. Hugh, my love. What is the matter?”
“No, Maria.” He rose, shaking his head. “We cannot do this.”
“Cannot do what?” Leaping to her feet, Maria went after him, following him to the fireplace. “What is it you think we cannot do?”
“Marry.” Running his hand through his hair, Hugh suddenly squeezed the ends, as if he would pull the hair off his head. “We cannot marry, Maria.”
“What do you mean? Of course we can marry. We love one another, and now, by the grace of God, we have ample means.” Fear twisted her heart. Why would he say such a thing?
“If we marry now, it will seem to some as if I had a hand in Lord Kersey’s death.”
“But you didn’t.” The man wasn’t making any sense. “Lord Remington challenged him and killed him. All you did was sign the will.”
