“I find it quite peculiar that the more I try to be rid of you all, the more you seem to be underfoot.” Lady Sissy pivoted toward the front door and continued pacing. “I thought I’d be rid of the lot of you after that chit was taken care of, but no, then Franny thought himself in love with the gangly, raven-haired hellion. Unacceptable.”
“Tilda?” Ophelia’s voice rose sharply. “What do you know of Tilda?”
Lady Sissy turned back toward Ophelia. The twin pools of light from the torches surrounding her. Her eyes were aglow with—pleasure? Her chin notched up, and her sneer transformed into a genuine smile, yet nothing but apprehension filled Ophelia.
“My brother—may the good Lord forgive me for saying—is a forlorn, senseless, disappointment of a man. He makes promises, only to break them when another light skirt catches his fancy.” She shook her head as if what she’d just shared were truly tragic. “Instead of gaining back what belonged to our family—what belonged to me—he focused on this chit or that chit.”
“Tilda was an innocent, intelligent, kind spirit, not a light skirt.”
Lady Sissy waved her hand. “That is of no consequence, now is it? She is gone, and once again, my dear brother—heartbroken and desperate for attention—is devoted to me.”
Ophelia blinked rapidly, trying to understand what Lady Sissy meant by all this.
“But then that raven-haired harlot caught his notice,” Lady Sissy scoffed. “I thought her safe enough because she was wed, but no, the woman took Franny from me—and again, his promises to me went by the wayside.”
Lady Downshire? She must be speaking of Lord Torrington’s stepmother who had been Abercorn’s mistress.
“Thankfully, the woman disappeared, making it far easier for me.” Lady Sissy’s demeanor once again shifted, her eyes widening. “But imagine my surprise when yet another dark-haired hoyden cast a wicked spell on my Franny.”
A spot of movement caught Ophelia’s notice behind Lady Sissy. Luci and Edith crept up the drive, coming ever closer to Lady Sissy, who was so consumed with her own ranting and raving that she didn’t notice the women approaching her from behind.
“Do you know what happened to Tilda?” Ophelia needed to keep the woman talking. If there was any hope of finding out the truth—that Abercorn had pushed Tilda to her death—it seemed Lady Sissy might have it. “Please, tell me what happened to my friend.”
Lady Sissy cackled, throwing her head back, the disturbing sound echoing in the night. “Did you know Franny was planning an entire year traveling the Continent with his latest bride? It was then I realized the chit had to go. Wedding and bedding Miss Tilda Guthton would not satisfy my brother. No, he wanted a wife and a family. Where would that leave me? What would I have after he produced a horde of heirs and spares with that broodmare?”
Her glare snapped to Ophelia.
“Alone,” she seethed. “I would be alone, forever, with no home of my own. All because of the Earl of Coventry.”
“But I thought you blamed your brother?”
Ophelia realized her mistake when the woman took a hurried step toward her, her hand rising as if to strike Ophelia, but she halted.
“Francis is a weak, sniveling man.” Her hand lowered back to her side. “If I had been born a man, I would have returned our family’s property immediately. However, it is never too late.”
“What do you mean?” Ophelia kept her eyes trained on Sissy—and not Edith and Luci, who motioned for her to keep the older woman talking. “Hawke Manor has belonged to the Coventry Earldom for two generations now.”
The conversation was moving swiftly between topics, but Ophelia needed to steer it back to Tilda.
“While Franny did not agree with my methods, I have provided the earl with enough reasons to return the property to me—or risk ruination for his family.”
That could mean only one thing. “You stole Fair Wind’s pages from the box in Sheerness?”
Sissy clutched her handbag close to her side. “Yes, but they will not be with me long, as I am on my way to The Post. They will be giddy with pleasure to have such scandalous knowledge of Coventry’s past. He—and his family—will never be welcome in polite society again.”
“How does that lead to the return of your family’s land?”
She shrugged, allowing her bag to fall to her side. “It is of little import. Lord Coventry, the dowager countess—as well as Lord Hawke—will be tarnished. The baron will never find a suitable bride. I suppose our families will be even then.”
“Abercorn will find another bride,” Ophelia said, hoping to bring their conversation back to Tilda. “It will only be a matter of time before he falls in love once more, and you are cast aside like you feared when he wed my friend.”
Lady Sissy shook her head, “Tsk-tsk, Lady Ophelia. When will you learn I am a very resourceful woman? Determined, much like you and your dear friends. I will handle the woman much like I did Miss Tilda.”
“You killed Tilda?” Ophelia asked on a shocked exhale.
“I cannot say I killed her, but the fall certainly did. I only helped her along.”
“How?” Ophelia noticed Luci clutching Edith’s arm several paces behind Sissy as they listened in abject horror. “Luci saw Abercorn flee at the top of the stairs.”
“My brother could not harm a fly, I assure you,” Lady Sissy spit out. She clamped her mouth shut, as if realizing she’d said too much. But with a nonchalant shrug, Sissy scrutinized Ophelia once more, obviously coming to the conclusion she posed no threat to the woman. “You and your friends were all cozy in my mother’s library, talking as senseless chits do. It was not hard to hurry up the stairs, donned in my robe, slip my dear brother a sleeping tonic, and return to have a private conversation with the new Duchess of Abercorn before she joined my brother in his chambers. But the woman would not listen to reason. In fact, she outright refused my request to discourage Franny from leaving England on their trip. The chit thought I had no say in my brother’s life. She was wrong...and it was very advantageous on my part that my brother still owned the matching robe I bought him during the previous Christmastide.”
“Sissy! What have you done?”
Ophelia turned toward the front door, now thrown open with a gaping Lord Abercorn exiting the threshold and Colin close behind.
Chapter 23
“…but the woman would not listen to reason. In fact, she outright refused my request to discourage Franny from leaving England on their trip. The chit thought I had no say in my brother’s life. She was wrong...and it was very advantageous on my part that my brother still owned the matching robe I bought him during the previous Christmastide.”
Abercorn’s entire body tensed where he stood before Colin, and he rushed over the threshold.
The older man stumbled to a halt only a few feet from his sister. “Sissy! What have you done?”
Ophelia and Lady Sissy turned to face them as Abercorn took the final steps and grasped Sissy’s arms.
Colin stumbled himself when he took in Ophelia’s terrified stare, her hands clutching her throat.
The gravity of the situation sank in, and a void opened in his chest. He’d sent her from his home, only to further put her in jeopardy when Lady Sissy sank her venomous claws into her. Colin should have departed the study with her, delivered her home safely, and returned to his father’s townhouse. Instead, he’d been too consumed with his own troubles, his own need to discover what his family had kept from him all these years.
He’d failed Lady Ophelia again.
Colin stood helplessly by as Lady Edith and Lady Lucianna rushed to Ophelia’s side, the trio wrapping their arms securely around one another. These were the people who were worthy of a woman like Ophelia. They cared about her, thought of her above all else—they deserved her, and Ophelia deserved them.
What Lady Ophelia didn’t deserve was a man like Colin—a man willing to push her aside for things that were nowhere near as important as she was. Trivial details that
, in the larger scheme of life, meant nothing to Colin. Yes, they had a jaded past, but that did not determine his future or how he chose to live it.
Ophelia did…or at least, Colin longed to make her such.
“Sissy,” Lord Abercorn demanded, putting his finger under his sister’s chin and raising her eyes to meet his. “Did you push Tilda, my dearest love, down the stairs?”
“I—well—“
“Do not lie to me!” His hand still held her arm firmly, and he shook her. The woman’s teeth clacked together. “Tell me what you did!”
“She was not right for you,” Sissy stammered. “I am the only woman you need.”
Abercorn released his hold, then pushed her away and turned to Lady Ophelia and her friends, still clinging to one another. “Lady Edith, Lady Lucianna, Lady Ophelia…you must believe I loved Tilda with all my heart. I know there were many years between us, but that did not diminish our capacity to love one another. She was to be my duchess”—his voice broke on the word and his eyes pooled with tears—“was to give me the family I always longed for—“
“I am your family, Franny,” Sissy called. “I love you…it has always been you and me.”
“I begged you for years to let your anger and resentment go, to find a husband who would make you happy, but you refused my advice at every turn.” He turned sharply toward his sister, pinning her with a steely glare. “You are nothing to me,” he sighed, his shoulders caving in. “I loved Tilda, and you took her from me, just as you’ve taken everything from me over the years. I have nothing more to say to you.” Next, he addressed Colin. “Send for the magistrate. I will have my wife’s murderer sent to the Tower.”
“Franny, no!” Sissy fell to her knees, her scream ripping through the cold night air as her handbag tumbled to the ground, forgotten.
Without a second look for his sister, Abercorn nodded to Ophelia and her friends and started for his waiting carriage. He didn’t pause or hesitate for even a second before climbing inside and taking off.
Colin envied the man, to be able to rub his hands together and, just like that, walk away from the situation.
“You…you did this!” Sissy pointed her finger in Colin’s direction. “If it weren’t for you, I would have kept my Franny close and had my land returned.”
He glanced over his shoulder to see Molly and his father had arrived to witness Abercorn’s departure.
Colin stepped toward Sissy, but Molly sprang from the steps before his father could stop her.
“Me?” Molly strode forth, barely using her cane as she navigated the dim drive toward Sissy. “Ye killed a woman—and for what? A crumble’n estate manor and cropland? You could not convince me then ta return the land, and ye shan’t convince me now. My grandson—Colin—he is a fine lad, an honorable lord, and he deserves all that’s been given ta him, just as me Fair Wind earned his Earldom and fortune by serve’n the king.”
His father set his hand on Colin’s shoulder, stopping him from stepping between the women. “Son, allow Mother her say,” Coventry sighed. “She’s been quieted for too many years.”
Instead of interfering with the older women, Colin moved to Lady Ophelia’s side where she and her friends huddled close. He’d thought them terrified a moment before, but when he stepped closer, it was relief he noticed from them all. They weren’t huddled close to protect one another, they were supporting each other.
“I should’a thumped ye over the head years ago when I had the chance, mighta given ye an ounce of sense in that addled brain of yours.” Molly lifted her cane high. “I suppose it ain’t too late.”
His father signaled for the two waiting footmen, and they sprang into action, taking Lady Sissy under the arms and guiding her back into the house. He collected his mother and followed, leaving Colin alone with the trio of young women. Holding one another tightly, they murmured softly to each other. In that moment, Colin was the outsider, listening in on a conversation he had no right to hear. But he was helpless to walk away and give them privacy to reconcile the loss of their friend. He was a part of this. As much as he felt otherwise, Colin was inexplicitly linked to Ophelia and her friends. He too had suffered at Lady Sissy’s hands. The years of family strife were solely due to that woman, not because Colin’s father despised his grandpapa.
In a way, the earl had spent years sacrificing for his family, just as Fair Wind had sacrificed before him.
None of this would have been resolved without Ophelia. There would be no shining light after a lifetime of doubt had it not been for her courageous nature. Even now, Ophelia appeared to be the one consoling her friends. If Colin possessed even a tiny portion of her dauntless daring, he would have set out years before to mend his family’s conflict. Instead, it had taken a woman like Ophelia to show him how to accomplish what needed to be done.
Bloody hell, but he could not imagine a day without her by his side.
It was hard to believe it had only been that morning they’d awoken at the inn in Sheerness and went in search of his family’s truths. She had utterly taken over his life, and Colin was uncertain he could go on without her. When they’d set out on her adventure, she’d been lost and searching for something of her own. Now, she was his compass.
Ophelia breathed in deeply, the scent of Luci’s lavender soap and Edith’s choice lemon perfume mingling to fill her with a deep sense of rightness. She was exactly where she belonged, with her friends there to support her. She thought she could do everything on her own, break away from Luci and Edith, prove she was more than the sum of her parts, a woman independent of her friends.
But she’d been wrong. They needn’t conquer things on their own to prove their worth. They were friends, first and foremost. Their friendship was based on love, understanding, and loyalty. Luci and Edith had come back for her, and when they’d not found her where she should have been, they’d set out to locate her. Not to bring her back or take over his adventure, but to offer their assistance. Ophelia had done everything on her own, she’d been responsible for luring the information from Sissy.
She held Luci and Edith close, each confused and conflicted by Sissy’s confession. Ophelia had little doubt they’d each be reeling for days to come. They’d been wrong, so inexplicably wrong in their belief that Abercorn was responsible for Tilda’s death. They’d targeted an innocent man.
Lifting her head from Luci’s midnight hair, Ophelia noted Colin standing a few feet away, his hands tucked deep into his trouser pockets as he attempted to give them a moment together. Her heart tugged, and she pulled away from her friends. They willingly let her go, and she hurried to Colin, wrapping her arms around his neck and lifting up on her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss to his lips. His hands encircled her waist and held her close.
Ophelia pulled back and stared into his dark green eyes, shrouded in fear. But what had he to be fearful of?
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“For what?” His brow furrowed, and his hold on her loosened. “Lady Sissy could have hurt you, and it would have been all my fault.”
In response, Ophelia did the only thing she could think to do, she tightened her arms around his neck and pulled him down toward her, pushing her body close to him. “No.” She shook her head, uncertain what she was saying no to. This moment—this was the moment—and she needed him to hear her. “You showed me I could do things on my own. I did not need to follow others, remain in the shadows while everyone around me lived. You asked me to accompany you to Sheerness because Molly demanded it, but I think you had other reasons for bringing me.”
She released him and scooped up Lady Sissy’s forgotten handbag and held it out to him.
“I think this, or at least what’s inside, belongs to you.” Ophelia gave him a nod, pushing him to take the bag. “Go on, take it.”
His eyes searched hers, and Ophelia only hoped he saw what she did. She felt whole, fulfilled, and invincible when she had him by her side. It was those exact things she wanted him to feel, as well, eve
n if it wasn’t because of her.
“Lady Ophelia,” he said before pausing to clear his throat. “Ophelia, since the moment I saw you stand up to Molly, even with her cane held high above your head, I knew I needed you—by my side and in life.”
Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked to hold them back, but one escaped and trailed down her cheek.
Colin leaned forward and kissed along its path, stopping the drop from falling from her chin.
“My lady, I think it best I tell you something. Now, before any further surprises present themselves.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, a quiet teasing sound that filled her with such contentment and ease. There was little guessing what Colin would say next, but Ophelia knew, deep down, it would alter her life far more than what they’d experienced thus far.
“What is it, my lord?” She kept him close, refusing to give him any opportunity to pull away from her. “Colin…”
“I fear I am in love with you.”
“You fear?”
“Yes, I fear. Because my love for you puts me at a severe disadvantage, my lady.”
“And why is that?”
He took a deep breath and leaned close, their lips all but touching. “I will do anything, agree to anything, to have you close. You can see how that might—“
“You think I aim to take advantage of your love for me?” she asked. When he only nodded, she continued. “It is a sorry state we find ourselves in then, Colin, for my circumstances may be far more dire.”
“How is that?” His breath cascaded along her cheek, and he tensed. “Tell me what I need do to—“
“Because I love you, too,” she confessed.
His brow rose in shock, and he pulled from her hold, pushing her to arm’s length as he searched her face for any sign she was jesting.
But Ophelia wasn’t joking in the slightest. She’d held and hugged her friends, but she longed to have Colin’s arms around her. She’d needed his comforting embrace when she learned of Sissy’s part in Tilda’s death.
The Misadventures of Lady Ophelia (The Undaunted Debutantes Book 3) Page 20
