“I should have just shot him when I discovered he was cuckolding me instead of going off to sulk in the stews as I did. No one would have faulted me for that, and then this trouble would not be haunting us now.”
“You would have been banished from England no matter how justified anyone thought you were. That justification would simply have saved you from hanging. And then you would have been of little use to your family or your tenants.”
Julian took another sip of the brandy. “Or to my son.”
“Exactly. Now, what we need,” Leo began and then frowned when there was a knock on the door. When he bade the person enter he was a little surprised when Chloe came in. “Is there a problem, cousin?”
“Ah, aye, I believe so,” she replied as she walked up to stand at Julian’s side. “Do you recall where your favorite tree is?”
Although it seemed an odd question for her to ask, Julian nodded. “I have not been to it for a while. It might have been taken down by a storm for all I know. It was very old.”
“It still stands.”
“Have you been to see it?”
“In a manner of speaking. I did not have a vision but I did have a strong knowing.” She swallowed hard as the memory of what she had seen turned her stomach a little. “I saw it clearly. Worse, I saw what was in it.”
Julian set down his drink and took her into his arms. “You have seen something dark again. Was it Arthur?”
“It had to have been his doing, but it is not him. I fear Beatrice is now hanging from your favorite tree.” She nodded when he stared at her in shock. “She is dead and I suspect your uncle did it. That would mean he is close at hand just as you have suspected.”
Julian cursed and then sighed as he stared at the body of his late wife. If one did not see the contortion of her face, she would look almost peaceful as her body swayed gently in the breeze. Hanging was a gruesome way to die, quite often no more than a slow strangulation, and Beatrice’s once lovely face revealed every torturous moment.
“We had better cut her down,” he said as he dismounted.
“I can do it, m’lord,” said Jake, who had ridden with them, a spare horse trailing behind him. “I can get up in that tree easy as you like and cut her down.”
“Thank you. I would appreciate it.”
As he stood watching the thin man nimbly scramble up the tree, Julian sensed Leo coming to stand at his side. “Not a pretty way to die.”
“Nay,” agreed Leo. “Are you upset?”
“Upset,” Julian said slowly, tasting the word. “No. I just do not like to see her dead. In truth, I would much rather have had her alive so that she could turn on Arthur and help us send him to the gallows.”
“Which is something he would never allow. He killed her not because she erred, but because she was now a threat to him.”
“She knew too much. So did Simone.”
“Simone would not be fool enough to stay long enough for Arthur to see her as a threat. In truth, she may have seen it coming and that is why we now hear rumors of her being in France. She is clever enough to have seen how it was all falling apart and so she slipped away before she was trapped and killed by the debris.”
“Very nicely put,” Julian said as Jake laid Beatrice out on the ground.
“How kind.”
“Thank you, Jake. Can you fetch the blanket from my saddle? I do not believe the women back at the house should see this.” When Julian saw how Leo frowned at the body, he asked, “Do you see something there that tells you who did it?”
“Nay. I was just wondering on all the cruel ways it could have been done. By the look on her face and the blood on her wrists where the rope rubbed them raw, I think she was not even unconscious when he hung her up there. I was just trying to decide if he then walked away or if he stood here and watched as she vainly struggled against her bonds as she died.”
“Why would you wish to know the rather gruesome details?”
“Because the how could tell us just how dangerously insane your uncle may have become.” Leo crouched by the body as a frowning Jake stood by with the blanket. “Aye, she was fighting as she strangled to death.” He looked around and noted how empty the land was. “I do not believe he picked this spot just because he knew it was one of our favorites, either. By killing her out here, he did not need to gag her. No one would hear her die.”
“So he could listen to her die?” Julian asked softly, a little horrified by that thought.
Leo moved out of the way so that Jake could wrap the body in the blanket. He brushed off his pants as he replied, “Quite possibly. What do you think, Jake?”
Jake looked terrified for a moment and then stiffened his stance. “I think he could have done it just like that, m’lord. He was very angry those last few days he stayed here. He did not yell or the like, but you just knew that the anger was bubbling inside of him. And there were a few times when the way he looked at her ladyship were right nasty. That were different.”
“Thank you, Jake,” said Julian. “Secure her body to the horse and we will return to the manor.” He looked at Leo. “So my uncle is undoubtedly rabid now.”
“I think you guessed that when Chloe told you of her vision in the carriage,” he said softly so that Jake would not hear him. “It might have been Beatrice who was going to do that, but the note I received today said that the one man they caught implicated your uncle. As the rogue said, the woman was right cheerful over the plan but the man was cold and precise.”
“You told me nothing of this note.”
“I was planning to when Chloe told us about Beatrice.”
“And just how does one adequately protect oneself from a madman?”
“Just as you have done. You gather everyone in one place, a place that is not easily crept up on, and you surround it with big, well-armed guards.”
Those words were not as comforting as Julian had hoped for.
Chloe sighed as she watched the men dismount before the house, a blanket-shrouded form draped over the fourth horse. She did not need to see the body to know it was not a pretty sight. She had already seen most of it in her vision. Chloe just wished her visions would show her the one committing the crime instead of just the crime. However, with Beatrice dead, there was really only one person who could be guilty of her death, and any other crime that happened in the area.
“I am sorry, Julian,” she said as he stepped up to her.
“For what?”
He clenched his hand against the urge to stroke her cheek. They were still trying to keep their affair secret, but it was hard to keep a distance from her all day. Glancing at Beatrice’s body being carried into the house, he realized he was free, and then felt guilty. It might be true that Beatrice had earned a hanging a long time ago, but it should not have been done as it was. And if his uncle was trying to send him some sort of message, he should not have bothered. Hanging his wife from his favorite tree told him nothing he did not already know—that his uncle was a killer and just might be a madman as well.
“For what has happened to Beatrice.”
“Do not grieve over her. She was the one who brought herself to this death with her greed and her vanity. All I am sorry for is that if she died because she was ready to set free a few of Arthur’s secrets, we have missed a great opportunity to get some important information on him. Nay, she killed whatever it was that I felt for her a very long time ago. But, as the mother of my child, I mean to give her a decent burial.”
“Your mother and Mildred have already said that they will clean the body up for burial. I thought I might help them but they said I should see that you and Leo have all you need.”
As they stepped into the house Julian saw his mother leading the men into a room down the hall from his office. “It is not a pretty sight.”
“I told them that, but they informed me that they have prepared bodies for burial before and while they may not have been hanged men or women, they were gruesome in their own way.” Chloe coul
d not fully repress a shiver. “I confess that I was just as glad to be turned away. I have never dressed the dead before. Well, save for my sister, and she just looked as if she was sleeping.”
“As soon as it is safe we will fetch your sister home,” he said quietly.
Chloe swallowed a sudden surge of tears. “Thank you, Julian.” She took a deep breath to push away that grief. “As soon as I saw you riding up I had the cook prepare some simple food. You missed your lunch. But perhaps you are not in the mood for it just now.”
“Hardhearted as it may sound, I am hungry.”
“So am I,” said Leo as he joined them.
“It will be served in the breakfast room.”
After checking to be sure only Leo could see them, Julian kissed her on the check and then strode off toward his bedchamber to wash up. He performed his ablutions quickly and hurried back downstairs, meeting his pale mother just outside the breakfast room. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms and lightly patted her back.
“It was bad,” she said and, after a moment of enjoying his attempt to comfort her, pulled away. “We can bury her as soon as you wish. I could fetch the vicar to say a word or two.”
“If that is what you want to do. I am not sure what one can say over the grave of a woman who has harmed as many people as Beatrice has.”
“Not much, true enough, but we should do this all as properly as possible.”
“Agreed. Let me know when the vicar can come and then we will have a brief service. Send one of the footmen to ask someone to dig the grave in the family plot. I will not put her in the crypt with the rest of the Kenwoods.”
“I do not wish her to be put there either, so do not look so guilty.”
He watched her hurry away to prepare a small service for Beatrice and then shook his head. Beatrice was being treated far better than she deserved, but he could not bring himself to refuse to give her a proper burial. Whatever punishment she was due for her crimes was no longer his to mete out. When he stepped into the breakfast room, the tempting scents of food pushed all thought of Beatrice from his mind. A moment later Leo strode in and he joined the man in devouring much of what had been put out for them.
It was almost dusk when he found himself standing beside Beatrice’s grave while the vicar droned on about sinners and redemption. Except for the verbosity of the vicar, it was a quick and silent service. Julian threw a handful of dirt on Beatrice’s grave and then left the three stable hands to finish burying her. He would put up a simple headstone later.
Julian glanced down at his mother, who walked on his left side while Chloe strolled along on his right. “Mother, there is something I have to tell you,” he said, knowing it was a poor time to mention his marrying Chloe even as he knew he needed to get the vows said as soon as possible. He could still hear Leo saying like rabbits.
Lady Evelyn patted his arm. “Yes, I know, dearest, but at least wait a few days. No one liked Beatrice and all are well aware of her sins, but marrying the day after her funeral would be a little rash. Maybe by Saturday.”
“Three days’ wait is better?”
“Much better.”
She hurried away before he could say anything, so he turned to look at Chloe. She was staring at him and looking a little shocked. Julian was certain she knew he had no lingering feelings for Beatrice, so was not sure why marrying so soon after the woman’s death should trouble her.
“I told you I would marry you as soon as I was free,” he said, hoping he did not sound as defensive as he thought he did.
“I cannot believe you would do so but days after burying her,” said Chloe, although she knew she should not be so surprised or even shocked. Beatrice had not been a wife to Julian for a very long time.
“Actually, what I cannot believe is how my mother knew what I was going to say before I even said it.”
“I told you that she and Lady Marston both spoke as if we were already engaged.”
“Ah, so you did. Well, that explains why she was not shocked at what I wanted to do. She has been anticipating it.”
“Julian, marrying me within days of burying Beatrice will cause a great scandal.”
“Nonsense. It is not as if one is required to wait by any law I know of, and the world and its mother knows she was no wife to me.”
“I still think we should wait a while before we have a very quiet ceremony.”
“No. We will not wait. I am very tired of pretending that we are no more than acquaintances every time anyone save for your cousin is around. I am also very tired of either you or I having to slip from bedchamber to bedchamber as if we are conducting some illicit affair. We will be married on Saturday.”
“You are ordering me to marry you?”
“Yes, I believe I am.” Seeing that she was about to release a stream of undoubtedly scathing words, he grabbed her by her arms and gave her a little shake. “Just calm down.”
Chloe did not feel inclined to calm down. “You cannot order me to get married.”
“Then I shall ask you nicely. Chloe, we have been lovers for weeks.”
“Not that many.”
“Enough. I have made no attempt to pull back or pull out. I have spilled my seed into you every time we have made love. You could already be carrying my child.”
She ignored the little tickle of delight over the idea that she might already be carrying his child and frowned at him. “It can take months, even years, to conceive a child.”
“Your cousin informed me that I might not wish to delay our marriage for too long after I was free to marry again because the Vaughns and the Wherlockes are all very fertile.”
“Not that fertile,” she said even as her traitorous mind started adding up the multitude of cousins she had.
“Like rabbits,” he said. “Chloe, you know I want to marry you and that it would not be simply because I fear I may have gotten you with child. However, I would rather endure what little scandal might be stirred up by a hasty wedding than have the whole world counting on their pudgy little fingers and figuring out our child was born fat and happy after only seven months, or less.” He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “Now you can argue or sulk or do whatever else you want to make your disagreement with my arrangements clear, or you can help my mother arrange the celebration I know she is already planning. Whichever you decide, we will be getting married on Saturday.”
Chloe stared at him as he strode into the house and then cursed. She went around the side of the house and into the garden. Sitting on a bench, one that did not face the tree that had inspired the vision of Beatrice’s hanging body, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at a small bush weighted down with fat white roses.
It took a while before she would admit what was really troubling her. She was afraid. Now that the actual wedding was drawing near, all the reasons why she should not marry Julian swamped her mind. On Saturday she would become Julian’s wife—and a countess.
She was so unsuited to become a countess, she thought. As far as Chloe could see there was no way she could escape that fate, either. She had agreed to the betrothal. Julian was almost eager to get married, if only so he had to cease creeping around in his own home. And Lady Evelyn was probably already writing up the menu for the wedding breakfast.
For a brief moment she saw a chance to put it all off. They needed a license. Then she cursed. Chloe knew that either Leo or Julian would have thought of that, and she had no doubt that it was all prepared and just waiting for the time it would be needed.
“You do not look like a woman who is about to marry,” said Leo as he sat down beside her. “It is rather late to be having doubts now. Horse out of the barn and all that.”
“You told him we breed like rabbits.”
“We do.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “You know as well as I that you could already be carrying a child. Your choice could be as simple as a scandal now or a scandal later.”
“Leo, I will be a countess.”
He
draped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “And you will be a very good one. You have had all the same lessons and training as Lady Evelyn would have had. You have been running my home for three years and, by damn, I will miss that. You have cared for the sick, worked on charities, attended all manner of social events, and raised a child. Now, I admit the latter is not often listed as a qualification, but it is a good one.”
“You make it all sound so easy,” she mumbled.
“And you make it all seem so much harder than it is. He is an earl, Chloe, not a royal duke. He is also, at heart, a man of the country, not the city. Cease worrying about how wrong you are for the role of his countess and start thinking about all the good you can do as the countess of Colinsmoor.”
“I suppose there are things I can do. There is no need to talk me into the marriage, Leo. I agreed and, even if I think this is being done too soon, I will not go back on my word.” She shook off his arm and stood up. “I know I have made my bed and now I must sleep in it—literally. I just thought there would be more time to get used to the idea of being called my lady.”
He stood up, hooked his arm through hers and started to walk back to the house. “You will be fine, Chloe. I would have thought your visions would have told you so.”
“Nay. It is as if they do not wish to invade my privacy,” she drawled.
He grinned as he led her inside. “Go decide what dress you will wear on your wedding day, what flowers you might carry, and even what little cakes will be served to whatever guests may appear. That should keep you too busy to fret over this.”
When he started to walk away, Chloe had to fight the urge to kick him in the backside. She started up to her bedchamber. The truth was that she could argue for the next three days and yet still end up at the altar beside Julian, resentment bubbling inside of her, or she could accept her fate. There was always the passion to consider. And, she thought as Lady Evelyn caught up with her and started to drag her off to the sewing room chattering about laces and corsets every step of the way, there were also those two simple words of warning to consider—like rabbits.
If He’s Wicked Page 21
