The Lady And The Man Of Fortune: A Wicked Secret: The Eardleys Of Gostwicke Hall, Book 3

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The Lady And The Man Of Fortune: A Wicked Secret: The Eardleys Of Gostwicke Hall, Book 3 Page 4

by Penelope Redmont


  Anne pulled the trigger.

  Wallwood jumped, and from more than the sudden explosion.

  Through the gunpowder smoke, Anne watched him clutch his forearm. Blood welled from between his fingers.

  Anne looked beyond him for the bullet hole. It was precisely where she'd hoped, in the fireplace surround. It would be the outside of enough if anyone other than this fool had been hurt by the bullet.

  "A flesh wound," she said shortly. She hadn't done him any damage she knew because he moved his arm — she hadn't broken any bones. "The bullet gouged your flesh, but you've suffered no great injury."

  Anne handed the pistol to Thomas, who was carrying Three. He handed her another pistol.

  Thomas, still carrying Three, went to stand beside the doors again.

  Wallwood was glanced from his arm to Anne, and back again. "You shot me!"

  "I did warn you," Anne said impatiently. "Now that I have your attention my lord, what's it to be? Do you understand that I mean every word that I say? Or will you insist that I kill you?" She paused for a moment.

  "I find that I don't mind shooting you," she went on conversationally. "I don't like you, and I'm a very good shot… You've harassed me unmercifully, these past weeks. And now to force yourself into my house — and injure my dog! I've finally had enough…. If you force me to it, I will shoot you again.”

  "You'll hang!"

  "Nonsense," she said calmly. "Recall that you attacked my dog, who was protecting me… You did this after forcing yourself into my home. I feared for my life. I defended myself, quite properly. I have witnesses. My guests have seen how you've pestered me these past weeks. You called this morning and finally went too far. You attacked me."

  "I didn't attack you!"

  "You intended to, I am sure of that. There'll be a fuss, and some gossip, but I shall weather it — I imagine that I'll be something of a sensation. A heroine."

  Anne lifted the pistol. She steadied her right hand with her left, then sighted along the barrel, aiming for his chest. At this distance, she couldn't miss.

  He stared at her, then shook his head and then glanced at Thomas who quickly opened drawing room doors. Thomas murmured, "I'll see you out, my lord."

  Wallwood, still clutching his arm, made for the doors.

  Anne lowered the pocket pistol, and released her breath in a long sigh. The pistols had belonged to Kingston. He'd owned a large collection of guns, and had insisted that she learn to shoot.

  Kingston never imagined that she might use her skills on him. That had showed a great lack of imagination, because she'd contemplated it — and had then been horrified at herself.

  Several moments later, Anne heard the front doors open and then close behind Lord Wallwood. She collapsed onto a sofa. Not the one Wallwood had been sitting in. She'd have that one burned. She set the pistol onto the sofa beside her.

  Three whimpered at her feet. Anne lifted the spaniel into her lap, and ran her hands over the dog, looking for injuries. However, Three seemed uninjured, although she'd been given a fright. As had Anne.

  Mr. Weston entered. "My lady," he said softly. He picked up the pistol, and handed it to Thomas. "Clean both pistols —" he began.

  Anne shook her head. "No, take them to my rooms. I'll clean and reload them myself later. Thank you to both of you… A measure of brandy, Mr. Weston, if you please."

  "At once." Weston hurried from the room.

  Thomas left her, to stand at the drawing room doors again.

  "My lady," Marie entered in a rush, and sat on the sofa beside her. "Are you well? And Three?"

  "We are both well, Marie, don't fuss," Anne said.

  She felt better after the brandy. A few minutes later, in her rooms, she cleaned the pistols. She'd calmed, and it was time to think.

  A few days after he returned to London, Lord Delmere visited his mistress.

  "Nick, you're not listening to me," Minerva said plaintively.

  She sat beside him on the huge sofa, and snuggled into his side.

  Delmere looked down at her gleaming golden wig, and sighed. He'd purchased this house in Half Moon Street for Lady Buttrose. Minerva was a widow. Her husband, Sir Edwin Buttrose, had left her penniless. Now she had a house, a carriage, jewelry, and a small income. He'd keep paying her the income because he’d liked her company, but it was time that they parted ways.

  Why did he feel like this now? He didn't know, but he knew that their connection was over. "Minnie, I find that I am no longer be able to call on you," he said gently. "You needn't fear that I will abandon you. You will have this house, your servants, and a hundred pounds a year besides."

  "You're leaving me? How is this?" She stood up, and looked down at him, her hands on her hips.

  She was lovely, with bright blue eyes, and a small heart-shaped face. "My dear, you knew that this day would come. I never made you any promises, and…" He paused. He'd been about to say that he'd taken care to ensure that she wasn't left with a child, but that would be tactless.

  "You can't leave me — oh, say that you won't!"

  "This is the first time I've called in months, so please don't tell me that this is a surprise." He stared at her, his gaze narrowing.

  She had known this day would come. He felt impatient, and told himself not to be unkind. He liked Minnie. "I'm sorry. You may call on my man of business for anything that you need."

  "I thought that you would — that we — Nick, please, won't you marry me?"

  Marriage? "What? But — I never gave you any reason to suppose that I had anything like that in mind."

  "You treat me like a pretty doll in a doll house. As if I don't have any feelings at all. Why should you not marry again? Am I not good enough?"

  Delmere almost choked. He tried to image what his mother Lady Tertsville would say if he arrived at Delmere House with Minnie. She'd put her lorgnette to her eye, look at Minnie, and then at him — and she'd have him committed to Bedlam.

  "I'm a widower twice over," he said, a little desperately. "It's well known that I'll never marry again, Min. Why would that change?"

  "I'm a respectable woman, and not a whore, Lord Delmere."

  He tried to soothe her, but she wouldn't listen. Within minutes, she'd worked herself into a state. He called for her housekeeper and maid to look after her.

  The two women bundled Minnie upstairs. On the landing, she looked down at him, her face tear-streaked and angry. "You think you can do anything you please. But money can't buy you a heart, Lord Delmere."

  He stared down at his shoes.

  An hour later, at White's, he told his closest friend, Kelly Baker-Cornhill, what had happened.

  Kelly shrugged. "She will calm herself. D'you expect her to be happy about it?" He asked mildly. "You handed her her congé — she had to know that this day would come when she became your mistress. If I know you, she did very well for herself."

  "She expected me to marry her."

  Baker-Cornhill chuckled. "Did she indeed? Now, you see — that's why I stick to courtesans who sell themselves on the open market. No chance that there's any misunderstandings that way."

  "No misunderstandings? You've been involved in three duels in the past two years because of your courtesans. I've no wish to compete with other men for a lady's favors, thank you."

  "So, tell me."

  "What?"

  "Tell me why you've seen off little Lady Buttrose," Kelly said impatiently. "Who is it? You've got your eye on someone else."

  Delmere spent mornings with his solicitor and his man of business in his large office at Delmere House.

  The morning after Lord Wallwood had forced his way into Kingston House, Lady Tertsville, Delmere's mother, walked in on Delmere.

  A footman had knocked tentatively first, then opened the door to reveal Lady Tertsville on the threshold. Delmere grinned at her. "Come in, do, Mama — I know you've collected a morsel of gossip that you can't wait to share with me. What is it?"

  He nodded to the
two men to leave them.

  "You'll never believe what I heard," his mother began, her eyes sparkling with delight.

  Half an hour later, Delmere was on his way to Berkeley Square.

  It was a nonsense, he told himself. Who'd ever heard of such a thing?

  "I will see if my lady is at home, my lord," Weston told him, and left him in the foyer.

  A few moments later, Weston returned to say that my lady was at home, and escorted Delmere to the library.

  Three raced to meet him at once, wagging her entire body in delight. When she reached him the dog stood on her hind legs, as if to jump up on his trousers. She subsided as soon as he pointed at the floor. Three sat at once, looking bashful.

  "Lord Delmere." Lady Kingston left her desk.

  He bowed over her hand. He was wearing gloves, but wished he wasn't. Her hand was very warm. He eyed her, inspecting her carefully to assure himself that she was unharmed.

  "Something has disturbed you. What is it?" She asked. "Come — sit down please."

  The first time he'd seen Lady Kingston, he'd been as tongue-tied as the merest lad. She was very beautiful, with huge sapphire eyes, and a trim but curvaceous figure.

  He'd reflected then that Lord Kingston had been a very lucky man. Not only was Lady Kingston lovely, but she was no bird-witted young lady. From everything he'd heard about her, she managed her affairs well, and was no one's fool.

  What a nonsense… He frowned. There could not be any truth to the story.

  She sat on the edge of a large chair, and indicated a chair opposite. He sat.

  "Lord Delmere — what is it?" She repeated.

  "I'm sorry to call on you unannounced, and I see that you are quite well… There's nothing to it, I imagine. I knew that there couldn't be. My mother delights in gathering the latest ton gossip, and comes to me with the most amazing tales."

  Lady Kingston swallowed, and looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. She compressed her lips for a moment.

  Oddly, she didn't ask him what he'd heard. So there was something to it then. He studied her. She glanced at him, but didn't meet his gaze. Then she rubbed her temple beside her eye.

  Well… there was nothing for it. "Lord Wallwood is putting it about that you shot him, my lady. I know that it's the purest nonsense —" He waited for her incredulous gasp, and laughing denial.

  She kept her gaze on her hands, which had tightened into small fists.

  Finally she looked up at him. Her eyes had darkened until they were dark stormy blue. "It's not nonsense at all." Three had seated herself on her mistress's foot, and she patted her dog's head absently. "It's quite true…" She cleared her throat. "I shot Lord Wallwood."

  He watched in fascination as she flushed a deep red. "However — I do beg you not to repeat the sorry tale. I warn you now, I mean to deny the story completely. Of course…" She laughed, somewhat ruefully, then finally looked directly into his eyes. "Wretched man, I'd thought that he wouldn't admit to it! Whatever possessed him to do so?"

  "He hasn't," Delmere said slowly. He studied her as if he had never seen her before. "He said that he was cleaning his guns, and that one discharged. It's his servants who are saying that you shot him. Twice."

  Lady Kingston rolled her eyes at that. She stood, and walked to the long windows.

  He considered her back for a moment. He hated to make her uncomfortable, but he couldn't pretend that nothing had happened. Or that women shot men every day. "Can you tell me what happened? I daresay you had ample reason to shoot him. The man was spying on you."

  She released her breath in a huff, then walked to the long center table, and sat down in a chair beside it. "He forced himself into the house. Weston had orders to tell Wallwood that I was out, but he forced himself in. What could I do? If I had had him ejected, he was capable of seeing my people in Newgate."

  She paused, and met his gaze frankly. "I was immensely angry, and made up my mind that I'd had enough… Three tried to protect me, but she's so small. He picked her up and threw her."

  He glanced at the dog. Three was well, he was relieved to see. He liked the small dog.

  Then Lady Kingston told him what had happened.

  Although he remained outwardly calm, his sheer rage surprised him. He made up his mind that he would call out Wallwood. To try to force himself on a woman — the man had no right to be in society.

  "So, I shot him," she finished. "I would have shot him again — I feared him — the man turned me into a prisoner in my own home. He meant to attack me, and would have done it, if Three hadn't distracted him."

  He tried to imagine the scene. His own hands had fisted. He would find Wallwood, and — but no, he would send someone to tell Wallwood that he'd issued a challenge. He didn't trust himself to maintain his composure when he saw the man.

  "My lady, I salute your bravery — I wish you had told me that Wallwood was harassing you. I suspected as much when I saw him watching the house."

  "I hoped that he'd stop. I was convinced that he would." She added defiantly, with a quick glance at his expression, "I'm not sorry that I did it."

  "Of course you are not. You were in fear for your life. I'm grateful that you had the presence of mind to protect yourself — but it should not be necessary. For Wallwood to behave so — my lady, would you allow me to hire men to protect this house?"

  "No, indeed not." She looked startled at the idea. "Whatever for?"

  If Wallwood had tried to attack her once, he might do it again, he thought, but he couldn't voice his thoughts out loud. He thought quickly. She was unprotected. "Ah — would you and Miss Bywater come to stay with my mother for a week or two? I'll remove myself from Delmere House, of course. I'll stay with a friend."

  She shook her head, and frowned at him. "No, of course not… I won't run away from my home. My lord, I told you what happened in confidence. Please don't share the story with anyone."

  Suddenly she laughed aloud. "Denial is everything, Lord Delmere. I'm capable of staring down anyone who would to dare hint that I would shoot someone. The very idea."

  She could do it, he thought. He didn't try to hide his own grin. She was thoroughly redoubtable. The most amazing woman he'd ever met. "Yes, you must deny it — it's mere servants' gossip." And he'd shut Wallwood's mouth himself, he thought.

  A few minutes later, he left Kingston House, after promising again that he would not share the story with anyone.

  He found Baker-Cornhill at White's, in one of the card rooms, and sent him to challenge Wallwood. Kelly didn't ask any questions. He studied his friend for a moment, nodded abruptly, then left to call on Wallwood.

  Delmere went home to speak with his mother. He assured her that he'd visited Lady Kingston, and of course the tale was a silly nonsense.

  Lady Tertsville was cross. "Of course it's gossip, my dear — how could it not be?" She sniffed. "You may be sure that I will trounce anyone who repeats the tale to me… It's because she lives alone. I do wish that Lady Kingston had a champion." She narrowed her gaze on her son.

  Delmere shook his head. "Indeed not, Mama. I won't marry again."

  Kelly didn't arrive at Delmere House until evening. "Flown the coop," he told Delmere. "I went to Wallwood House. His butler told me his lordship that had left with his valet. Didn't say where he was headed. Valet packed a bag, and they were off. Wallwood’s valet and bags in the carriage, and Wallwood on horseback… I visited all of Wallwood's clubs, but no one knows where he's gone."

  4

  After Lord Delmere left her, Anne went up to her second floor sitting room to stitch. She needed to think, because she realized that she had changed.

  Lady Jane had taken Eva out to the silk warehouses. A new shipment had come in. Anne had given Lady Jane precise instructions on what to buy. After the warehouses, the ladies would call on Lady Merrill at Blackwood House. The Duke of Sommerforth's aunt was taking a keen interest in Eva, and had promised to introduce Eva to her cronies. Since those cronies includes the Lady
Patronesses of Almack's, Anne was grateful.

  Anne uncovered one of her embroidery hoops, and started stitching a chair cover. She'd designed the Chinoiserie garden pattern herself. Once she'd completed the first cover, she'd pass the cover and pattern onto three seamstresses who would stitch eleven more covers, matching the first. Anne hoped that the covers would be completed by the time her sister Elaine was brought to bed of her child. The covers would be perfect for the family dining room at Sommerforth Abbey.

  With each stitch, Anne calmed. Whatever had possessed her to shoot Lord Wallwood? She'd meant to use her pistols as threat, nothing more… Or had she? And how had she dared?

  Trapped. Wallwood had made her feel trapped, just as her husband had.

  She remembered Lord Kingston, and shuddered. He'd come to her bedroom just three times in the first week of their marriage. Then he'd never come to her again.

  She'd been brought up in the country, at Gostwicke Hall, so she was aware of what happened on a woman's wedding night. And if she'd had any doubts about what the wedding night entailed, precisely, Catherine had dispelled them.

  Nothing had happened. Kingston had come to her bed, then lay there, like a rock, for hours. Occasionally she could feel him moving in the bed, but he hadn't touched her. Three times… She frowned, and then sighed.

  After a week, Kingston had become cold to her. He took his meals alone, except when they had guests. Months passed, in which Kingston was icily polite to her. She had no idea what she'd done wrong.

  When she asked for a carriage, so that she could visit her mother and sisters, he refused. Nor would he allow her to go to London. He even stopped her daily rides.

  She tried to please him. Then he stopped being polite. He treated her like a servant.

  "Come here," he'd roar at her when he was in his cups, drinking alone in his library. "Read to me."

  She read, her hands trembling so much that she had to rest the book on her lap. She had to clear her throat over and over again just to get the words out.

  Sometimes the sight of her enraged him. Once he threw a teapot at her. She took to spending every day in her rooms, only daring to leave them when he called for her, or she knew that he'd left the house.

 

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