Tall, Dark, and Wicked (Wicked Trilogy)

by Madeline Hunter

  “What chamber did the housekeeper put her in?” Lance asked.

  “What does it matter? They are all presentable.”

  “I want to know. I think you can tell me. You found out yourself, didn’t you?”

  “Only because I escorted her down to dinner.” He heard himself sound like a boy making excuses for a perceived transgression. “It is the chamber with the green and rose drapery.”

  “It is a fairly plain chamber. I expect the housekeeper thought Miss Belvoir would be overwhelmed if asked to live surrounded by silks and ornament. It has a dressing room, however, so she will not feel as though she had been housed with the servants.” He paced on awhile. “Or did you ask to have her put there in that chamber?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Whenever you answer questions with questions, I know you are avoiding the truth. That chamber is not far from your chamber, that is why.”

  “Isn’t it? I’ll be damned.”

  “Play your game as you choose. I believe your dishonorable intentions will only bring you frustration.”

  “You are sure you know my intentions, do you?”

  “Having seen her, and seen you watching her, I am sure that my earlier suspicions were correct. However, I do not think you will be assaulting that particular tower tonight, and tomorrow Eva arrives. I will charge her with acting as Miss Belvoir’s chaperone.”

  “Miss Belvoir does not need a chaperone. She is at least twenty-five, and a woman who knows her own mind. She is well educated, and probably smarter than you are. Furthermore, all of this interference is absurd coming from you.”

  “I am only following my lawyer’s advice. Remember? I should be a paragon within the county, at least for a while. I should avoid drunken revelries, or having women in this house for erotic purposes. I should even avoid going to where such women can be found in their own abodes. I must ride out on the estate like a good lord, and be generous in my dealings with all I meet. I must even suffer the company of Radley for half a day, knowing all the while that he is trying to get me hanged. So, if I must do all of that, I’ll be damned if you get to pursue a woman under my own roof while I have to be a monk.”

  “You are going to create trouble for me merely because I gave you very sound, very reasonable advice? This is the thanks I get for keeping you out of their clutches?”

  “I am doing this because following your advice is driving me mad. I have no intention of suffering alone. You forced me back here, you insisted I leave town, so you can damned well suffer too. If I needed to forbid Gareth from enjoying his wife’s favors while he visits, I would.”

  “You are mad.”

  “More than mad. Insane from boredom. Deranged by abstinence. Unhinged due to—”

  “You are too dramatic.”

  “Try to seduce Miss Belvoir, and see just how dramatic I can be.”

  They let the topic drop, and chatted about other things while they walked back to the house. Lance’s peevish demand for a fellow sufferer did not leave Ives’s mind, however.

  Lance had all but thrown down a gauntlet. Ives would be damned before he allowed his brother to dictate like this in any matter, let alone this one, and least of all because Lance was in a fit of pique over his own restrictions.

  Pride practically dictated he seduce Padua now, should he choose to listen to that voice.

  CHAPTER 12

  Padua made it a point to finish breakfast before the brothers came down. She enjoyed a walk in the morning garden, then returned to her chamber with a book she requested a footman find for her in the library.

  She did not want to be visible when the third brother, Gareth, arrived. She heard the coach outside near noon, however. With its approach the house came alive. Setting aside her book, she crossed to another chamber so she could look down on the welcome.

  She identified Gareth at once. He resembled his brothers enough to make his familial connection unmistakable. He appeared a little younger than Ives, but not by much. Dark haired and dark eyed, he shared his siblings’ height and good looks and, she noticed, possessed a very charming smile that carried a hint of mischief.

  He helped his wife down. Padua deduced at once that Eva was pregnant. The day’s fashions hid that fairly well, but Eva’s stance spoke of a woman about halfway along.

  The welcomes flowed noisily and casually. They all seemed to like each other. Hugs, laughter, a few arm punches, and other masculine play ensued, then slowly they all entered the house.

  Eva looked up just before she disappeared under the portico’s roof. An attractive woman, but not a great beauty, Padua observed. Average in size, with brown hair and a pleasant face. Padua felt bad for how that relieved her. Had Eva been a stunning woman, this all would have become even more awkward. Rather this woman appeared about her own age, and not at all conceited.

  She returned to her chamber, and to her book. Eventually she would have to go down, but for now she would not intrude on the family reunion. Today she would meet this third brother and his wife and be a guest. But starting tomorrow she intended to make herself scarce.

  * * *

  “Ives brought a visitor,” Lance said. “A woman.”

  “You will meet her at dinner.” Ives intended to move the topic aside for now.

  “What woman?” Gareth asked.

  “Just a woman,” Ives said. “A friend who needed a respite from town.”

  Gareth waited, curious. He looked at Lance. He looked back at Ives. “I have never heard of you bringing one of your mistresses here.”

  “She is not my mistress.”

  “That hardly kills my curiosity. Rather the opposite. Why is she not down here now, so I can get a good look at her? I hope you did not tell her we would mind her presence when we arrived,” Gareth said.

  “She chose to remain above. You will meet her at dinner, but I do not think she intends to make herself a part of our group too often.”

  “Why not? Is she inappropriate in some way?”

  “I would never bring an inappropriate person to Merrywood.”

  “So why—”

  “He does not want to talk about it now,” Eva said with exasperation. “Do you, Ives? Men are worse than women, I am convinced. I know not to pry. At least not yet.”

  “Thank you, Eva. Your return is all that matters now, not curiosity about a visitor, curiosity that will be satisfied in a few hours when you meet her. We want to hear about your journey. Was it all you had hoped?”

  Eva was a sweet, sensible, gentry-born woman. Ives liked her, even if he still found it remarkable that Gareth had married her. Gareth had cut a notorious swath through the wives of the peerage before meeting Eva, and anyone could be excused for finding theirs a peculiar match. And a love match at that.

  Eva had seen the better man in Gareth, he supposed. She might be the only person who really knew his bastard brother, aside from the duke’s mistress who had given Gareth life.

  “It was glorious. Far better than I dreamt. I have dozens of paintings, and books of sketches,” Eva said. “The month in Florence studying with Signore Rosselli, going into the Tuscan hills—I will remember it forever.”

  “It was too bad, then, that you had to cut your time abroad short,” Lance said.

  “It was for the best reason.” Her hand instinctively moved to rest on the swell under her breast.

  “Ah. Of course. I did not realize that was the reason,” Lance said. “I trust you are in good health? Nothing is amiss, I hope.”

  “She is in fine health. We merely thought it best to wait out the last months here in England,” Gareth said. “You really are ignorant of such things, aren’t you?”

  “I have no understanding whatsoever of the condition.”

  Eva laughed. “I will soon become a little clumsy. It would not be a good idea to take sea voyages in that state, if it can be avoided. I did not mind coming back. I wanted to see my sister, and all of you, of course.” She stood. “Now, I will rest until dinner. That
is another feature of the condition, Aylesbury. Women like me need a lot of rest.”

  No sooner had she left than Lance stood, went to the desk, and removed some papers. “Gareth, I want you to know that the last of the paintings were removed a week ago. Here are the receipts we had them sign.”

  Lance referred to an investigation Gareth had embarked on in the spring involving a large cache of stolen paintings. He had become involved at Ives’s request, only to end up far more entangled than anyone wanted.

  “Took him long enough,” Gareth said while he examined the receipts.

  “Thanks to Ives, your name was kept out of it to the end. As were all the names of any other members of the family. As expected, when those gentlemen were told all their treasures had been found safe and undamaged, no one cared too much how the paintings happened to end up in a cottage down the road, or where they had resided during the intervening years since their disappearance.”

  Gareth looked over at Ives. “It is finished, then.”

  “Yes, finally, it is finished,” Ives said.

  * * *

  A faint rap on the door captured Padua’s attention. She opened it to find Eva standing there.

  “I hope I am not disturbing you,” Eva said. “I am Eva Fitzallen. I wanted to meet you, and welcome you to Merrywood.”

  “That is kind of you. Won’t you come in?”

  Eva made herself comfortable on a chair. She had removed her bonnet and pelisse and swathed herself in a long Venetian shawl. “Ives said you did not choose to join us today when we arrived. I hope you do not worry about interfering.”

  “It was a family time. My presence would have only added a pause now and then.”

  “Perhaps so. Actually, mine does, too, when the three of them get together. They are obligated to be on their good behavior. Left alone, they are much like boys tumbling down a hill.”

  “Still, you do know them. My acquaintance even with Ives is recent, and not deep.”

  Eva’s eyebrows rose the tiniest fraction. “Is there any way I can make your stay more comfortable? Anything I can tell you about the family?”

  “Since you are kind enough to offer—I was surprised to hear your name is Fitzallen.”

  “Ahhh. Ives did not explain. That was careless. Gareth is a bastard. His mother was not the duchess, but the duke’s longtime mistress. I suppose you surmised that during the last few minutes since I arrived, however.”

  “There was one more brother, was there not?”

  “Percy. He was the eldest, and the last duke. He died unexpectedly in the spring. I am not speaking out of turn if I inform you that there are those who suspect Lance of having a hand in that. You are sure to hear allusions to it when they talk, and if you go anywhere in the county it is common gossip. There is nothing to it, of course, but these things have a way of lingering on.”

  “It is a complicated family.”

  “No more than mine was. And perhaps yours too? I will not ask why Ives brought you here. Not for the grand seduction his brothers suspect, I think. He hardly needs to transport a woman to Merrywood for that, and I expect this house is the least convenient place for it.”

  “No, I am not here for that.” He brought me here because my father is in prison and the authorities think I am an accomplice. She wondered how this sweet woman would react to hearing that.

  “All the same, should he turn his mind in that direction, you must let me know. If you want it to stop, that is. Otherwise, feel free to hold your own counsel.”

  Well, that was blunt.

  Eva looked Padua over from head to toe. “I hope you will forgive me for being forward, but—Ives said he expected you to avoid our company. You are free to do so. However—perhaps I am assuming too much because not long ago I would have reacted this way—I hope you are not thinking you will be uncomfortable because you do not have an appropriate wardrobe.”

  Padua could not believe how quickly Eva guessed that part. “I told Ives I did not, that I would appear out of place and worse than a poor relative. I do not mind my circumstances normally, but I do not visit a house like this normally either.”

  “What did Ives say to that?”

  “He said no one would care.”

  “The point is that you will care. Just as if he entered one of his clubs dressed like a rustic, he would care. Men like Ives make high-minded claims that such things do not matter, but they expect women to appear fashionable and well turned out anyway. They have known nothing else in their lives except women with wealth, after all.” She narrowed her eyes on Padua. “We will see what we can do. Your height will complicate it. I cannot just lend you some of my wardrobe right out of the trunk. However, the servants here know how to ply a needle to make alterations, so perhaps we can come up with a few ensembles so you are more comfortable at dinners at least.”

  “I do not know what to say.” She really didn’t. Eva’s thoughtfulness touched her. “You guessed right away too.”

  Eva took Padua’s hand and clasped it in her own. “When I met Gareth, I had one chair left in my house. I had not had a new dress in six years. I did not mind my circumstances either, normally. But there were times when I felt them keenly.” She pushed herself to her feet. “Now I must rest, the way I claimed I would. Gareth will scold if I spend the whole afternoon chatting, although I would not mind doing so.”

  * * *

  Padua wore her yellow muslin to dinner again. Thanks to Eva’s perception and reassurance, she did not feel too out of place. She remained an observer for the most part, however. This was a family reunion still, and the members of that family had a lot to say to each other.

  After the meal Eva removed herself. Padua followed her out of the dining room.

  “I am going to retire,” Eva said once they were alone. “Why don’t you take advantage of the library. At dinner you expressed a strong interest in the towns we visited on our tour. I am sure there are books here with engravings of the views. I know that there is one with drawings showing the compositions of the art to be seen, including the paintings by Giotto in the town that is your namesake.”

  “My mother told me about those. I will look for that book.”

  “I will show you where it is.”

  Eva took her to the library. Once Padua saw its impressive size, she doubted she would easily find any particular book for a good while. Eva went directly to one case, gazed at its shelves, and reached up. She pulled out a large, heavy tome about Renaissance art, set it on a table, then took her leave.

  Padua sat at the table and turned the pages. The paintings she sought were near the front, since Giotto had painted them two centuries before the Renaissance proper began. She examined an engraving of the exterior of the chapel and imagined her mother approaching it. Her mind filled in the missing colors and landscape.

  She turned a page to see the chapel’s interior, then another. Each page now held engraved images of each scene in the fresco cycle. Looking at them called forth her mother’s voice. She succumbed to the nostalgia, and allowed her memories to give her a tour.

  * * *

  “Disgraceful excess.” Gareth muttered the criticism while he looked over his shoulder.

  He, Lance, and Ives stood in the night in the family graveyard. At their feet, all but invisible in the dark, lay a simple rectangular stone marking their father’s grave. They had come out to raise a toast to him.

  The object of Gareth’s scorn stood ten feet away. A behemoth of a sepulcher, it rose fifteen feet high, its white stone glowing in the moonlight. In that particular grave lay their eldest brother, Percy. No one had suggested they raise a toast to him too.

  “I have rebuilt the cottage that he burned down,” Lance said. “There are tenants in it now.”

  “And the empty cottage nearby?” Gareth asked.

  “I visited, after it was empty of its recent holdings. I discovered that our brother used it as a private lair. There was evidence that he indulged his appetites there.”

&nbs
p; “A rendezvous for discretion’s sake? And here I thought he never partook of amorous pursuits,” Ives said. “I thought he chose to be virtuous, to be better than us.” He looked down at his father’s grave marker. “To be better than him.”

  “I suspect that his desire for privacy involved much more than discretion,” Lance said. “I do not choose to say more than that. Just that there is much about our brother that we did not know. I for one would not mind leaving it thus.”

  They began strolling back to the house.

  “She is very tall, isn’t she?” Gareth asked.

  Ives sighed. “You are speaking of Miss Belvoir, I assume.”

  “I am certainly not speaking of Eva, who is average sized.”

  “I agree she is tall. I do not know why everyone is obligated to comment on it. While it gives her a distinctive elegance, it is her least notable quality as I see it.”

  Gareth paced along on his right, and Lance on his left.

  “Of course she is much more than her height,” Gareth said in a musing tone. “It is just upon seeing her, her height is a little startling. Then one starts wondering.”

  “Wondering?”

  “Imagining.”

  Lance laughed lowly.

  Ives glared at Gareth’s shadowed profile. “Imagining what?”

  Gareth shrugged. “She is taller than most women by almost a head, so one can’t help but imagine what it would be like. Calculate the difference it would make.”

  Ives’s jaw tightened. His fists clenched.

  Gareth walked on, unaware that he was in danger. “For an average-sized man, it might prove awkward, but for a tall man, there could be benefits.”

  “For certain positions, that is true,” Lance offered.

  Ives snapped his head around and glowered through the dark at Lance.

  “Yes, that is what I mean,” Gareth said, warming to the topic. “For example, standing, it probably would prove impossible if one tried to raise a woman that tall, but since one might not need to do that, other options come to mind.”