Lady Scandal

by Wendy Lacapra

  Hugh appeared, as she had not seen him for weeks—a perfectly turned out courtier. He’d donned a gold-embroidered regal coat of red. Matching velvet breeches hugged his muscular thighs. On his arm, stood grace personified. Stately, tall, and dressed in the height of fashion, the matron’s eyes—a perfect match to Randolph’s winter-grey—searchingly swept the room.

  Hugh leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Immediately, her gaze settled on Sophia. The man who’d propositioned her stiffened. Sophia’s feet had grown roots; she could not move as Hugh guided his mother across the room.

  The lady lifted her quizzing glass and inspected Sophia.

  Sophia turned her wide eyes on Randolph. “What are you doing?” she said under her breath.

  “Fulfilling your command, my wish,” his eyes twinkled, “and my duty. Once I told her of our marriage, her ladyship would not be denied.”

  The countess cleared her throat.

  “Mother,” Hugh said, “allow me to introduce my wife. Lady Randolph, my mother.”

  Chatter rose through the crowd as the implications of Hugh’s announcement spread through the room. Sophia ignored the whispers and looked into the woman’s eyes. Remembering how Thea held herself when she was uncertain, Sophia looked past the woman’s stiff haughtiness. Within those eyes beat the heart of a mother. A deeply apprehensive mother.

  “I have concerns,” the countess said to Sophia. “Is there a need?”

  Sophia wetted her lips and curtsied.

  “No, my lady,” she said softly.

  The countess nodded and released Randolph. “Excellent choice, Randolph.”

  “Thank you.” Hugh’s lips broke into the widest grin Sophia had ever seen. “I will endeavor to deserve her.”

  The countess sighed. “I have been promised entertainment. You,” she pointed to the man with whom Sophia had been speaking. “Escort me to the Faro table.”

  “Yes, Lady Randolph.”

  The countess turned her eyes on Sophia. “The dowager Lady Randolph.”

  The man guided the dowager countess away. Sophia nearly laughed aloud at the quake in his step.

  “Ah, Hugh,” Sophia smiled up at her husband, “that was…”

  “Definitive?” he supplied.

  “Very much so.” She lifted a brow. “One might almost call it shocking.”

  “Another point for me,” he quipped, refitting his gloves. He tilted his head and lowered his voice. “I am sorry to say, you have witnessed the countess at her most genial.”

  Sophia glanced to the dowager countess and back to Randolph, her heart as light as it had been in years. Perhaps even a decade. “I like her.”

  “Good.” His eyes warmed. “You cannot change your mind now.”

  As a footman passed, he plucked a sugared basket from a tray.

  “Sweets,” he said. “You must have known I would come.”

  A blush crept into her cheeks. “I had hoped.”

  He placed the basket on the table and, heedless of chatter and shock, he took her into his arms. Her eyes fluttered closed, she lifted her lips…and then froze as the duchess’s wail cut through the room.

  Her eyes flew open. “Thea!”

  The duke stalked past, knocking chairs, and people, and tables aside—his arms full of his furious wife.

  “Put me down.” Thea beat the duke’s back to no avail. “Help!”

  “You lost,” the duke said. “That means you’re mine—no negotiation.”

  “He has lost his mind,” Sophia gasped and gave Randolph an urging push. “You must help her! Please!”

  “Wynchester!” Harrison yelled.

  Hugh sprinted toward the couple, reaching them inside the entry hall, just beyond the doors.

  “Wynchester,” Randolph said with dark intent, “The duchess has requested you unhand her.”

  “The duke,” Wynchester replied, “declines.”

  “Wynchester,” Harrison skidded to a stop on the hall’s marble floor. “You are not yourself.”

  Sophia and Lavinia paused at the door, and continued a silent approach behind the duke.

  “Put down your wife,” Hugh growled.

  Wynchester swung around, knocking Sophia off her feet. Lavinia caught the slipping Thea and drew her away. Hugh threw a neat punch; the duke went down with a stone-heavy thud. As Harrison bent over the duke, Hugh exhaled, straightened his coat, and attended a bemused—and perfectly hale, if rumpled—Sophia.

  “A moment, sweetness.” He turned to address the room beyond. “We request discretion,” he said to the stunned guests, “A gentleman must defend his wife.”

  “Hear, hear,” the dowager Countess of Randolph called as Hugh closed the doors.

  Harrison and the butler bundled the duke and took him back to his carriage as Hugh helped Sophia up off the floor.

  “How was that for an announcement?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Splendidly scandalous.”

  “No,” he said, “This is splendidly scandalous.”

  His lips moved over hers, hot with the promise of a lasting love.

  …

  Randolph and Harrison stood back while Sophia, Lavinia, and Thea conferred beside the duke’s carriage.

  “Well,” Randolph said wryly, “wherever Lord Eustace is, he will know the duchess has returned home by morning. I daresay the duke will not remember very much.”

  Harrison snorted. “He will have half of London to remind him. I don’t doubt this will make Grub Street. His drink had gotten heavier of late, but I had no idea. If I had realized how far gone he was…”

  Randolph raised his brows. “…You would have called off the evening?”

  “No.” Harrison sighed. “I suppose it is for the best. If I know Wynchester, his mortification will override all other feeling. He prides himself on his level and steady reputation.”

  “That horse, I am afraid, has left the stall.” Randolph stepped closer to see if he could discern what the ladies were saying. “The duchess at least, will have an easier time.”

  Thea raised her voice to speak to the duke’s coachman. “Before he wakes, I want all spirits removed to the cellar and the cellar locked.”

  “With due respect, Your Grace,” the coachman said, “there is none.”

  “Oh?” Thea asked. “I find that hard to believe.” She leveled her gaze at the coachman. “I am mistress of the house, and I will find out if you are covering for him.”

  Randolph smirked. Thea in full duchess splendor was quite the thing.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” the coachman replied. “Will you be riding back?”

  “No,” she replied. “The dowager’s carriage will bring me round in the morning.”

  They all fell silent as the coachman lifted himself up onto the carriage and cracked his whip. Wynchester’s carriage rolled forward toward the gate. The coachman, Randolph surmised, was carrying the duke back to a house he knew but a life he would no longer recognize.

  The ladies joined them in the relative privacy of the garden.

  “So, you are still determined to go back to Wynchester?” Lavinia asked.

  “Yes.” Thea inhaled. “But that wasn’t the Wyn I know.”

  “I should say not,” Sophia said.

  Thea tilted her head to one side. “In some ways, I like him better.”

  Lavinia stifled a giggle. “You are mad, you know.”

  “Unfortunately,” Thea said, “not half as mad as the duke’s brother.”

  “We are but a message away,” Sophia said. “If you need anything.”

  The duchess placed one arm around Sophia and one around Lavinia. “You can count on me doing just that.”

  Randolph exchanged glances with Harrison, and they fell back.

  “Any sign of Lord Eustace or Helena?” Harrison asked under his breath.

  “No,” Randolph said. “I placed agents among the guests, just in case. Sophia believes Lord Eustace is the one who is pretending to be Kasai.”

  Harrison
stiffened. “If Lord Eustace is Kasai, he’s played a brilliant part.” His jaw twitched. “Any proof?”

  “No. The Under Secretary seems the most likely candidate. But I intend to ask the Dowager Duchess of Wynchester about the man Lord Eustace had been before he disappeared into Kasai’s ambush.” He was missing something very important, he was sure.

  “Excuse me,” Sophia interrupted. “I would like to speak with my husband.”

  “Of course,” Harrison said and he slipped away.

  Sophia took his hand, ran her fingers over his knuckles, and looked him in the eye. “Are you hurt?”

  “From a single punch?”

  She smiled. “So, it takes a great deal to topple the Earl of Randolph, does it?”

  “You may rely on that.” Randolph checked himself. “With the exception of one, petite countess with the voice of a temptress, the face of an angel, and the body of Venus.”

  Her dimple briefly graced her cheek, but her fingers tightened around his hand.

  “What is it, Sweetness?”

  “I…I have a gift.”

  “What kind of a gift?” he asked pulling her close.

  “Not that kind,” she said. “I am serious, Hugh. …I thought through this last night, and had the papers prepared this morning.” She looked up over to her home with a wistful expression on her face. “The deed is in the top drawer of my desk. I want Helena to have Baneham’s house.”

  Her gesture was unexpected, to say the least.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because it will save you,” she said running the back of her hand over his cheek. “And because after what Baneham put her through, she deserves a part of his legacy.”

  “It is,” he frowned, “more than generous of you.”

  “I do not think so,” she whispered, lifting her lips to his. “I have my prize.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Earl Baneham’s Rules for Winning

  “The final rule: Clean up loose ends.”

  Weary of congratulations, Sophia sank into her study chair and closed her eyes. Randolph had volunteered to assist the departure of the last of her guests so she could have a moment alone.

  She had done the right thing, both by claiming Randolph and by signing over the deed. She only hoped she’d made the right wager—that Helena could be fully won to their side.

  “Hello, Sophia.”

  She had only heard her sister’s voice twice, but she recognized Helena immediately. She turned. Uncanny how the same almond-shaped eyes she saw in the looking glass stared back at her now. But Helena’s jaw was from the Earl, while Sophia had her mother’s cheekbones.

  “Stop,” Helena said, “looking at me that way.”

  “I see our father in you.”

  “There is certainly more of him in me than in you.” Helena snorted. “You are weak. You take in strays. You never did learn the ways. I am the true daughter—heir of his legacy. Why he loved you and hated me…”

  “Truth is,” Sophia said, “I would have gratefully ceded his love.”

  “Easy enough to say when you have everything.”

  Sophia held her sister’s gaze and poured the truth into her eyes. “I mean every word.”

  “I will give you one thing.” Helena tossed back her hair. “You do not seem afraid. I could kill you.”

  She kept her gaze fixed on her sister, trying to read the calculations as they happened. “You would never make it out of the house.”

  “Your friends have hidden talents?”

  “Lavinia was once suspected of murder, so not so hidden.” She shrugged in Gallic fashion. “My death would not make a difference. It won’t justify your suffering. Your chance at true vengeance died with Baneham.” She rose out of her chair. “But Helena, your chance for justice has not.”

  “Stay back,” Helena said.

  “I am offering you your place,” Sophia said.

  “Randolph already made that bargain.”

  “No, he offered you my house.” Sophia paused for effect. “I offer you not just the house, but acceptance. Acknowledgment of you as my sister.”

  Helena frowned. “Why?”

  “Because I am not Baneham. I believe in justice. And, I believe you will do the right thing and tell Randolph that Kasai and Lord Eustace are one and the same.”

  Helena paled. “If I did that,” she said, “Lord Eustace would have me killed.”

  “He will not have that power. You can take it from him.”

  She groaned—a low and gritty sound stocked with fear. “You have no idea what he is capable of.”

  “Which is why you must be the one to tell the truth. You, who have suffered at his hands. Take your place, Helena. Protect yourself.”

  Hope dawned in her sister’s eyes and Sophia’s heart lifted. For a brief, shining moment, Sophia thought justice would win. For a brief and shining moment, she truly believed she could save them both.

  …And then the shot rang out.

  …

  White light flashed from beneath the door as a deafening boom clanged in Randolph’s ear. He kicked open the door.

  Helena lay crumpled on the floor. Lord Eustace stood in the doorway opposite, skin flushed. His glittering gaze was fixed on Sophia. Though pale, Sophia held what must have been the world’s smallest flintlock pointed directly at the traitor’s heart.

  Randolph held out his arm, preventing his men from entering the room.

  “You bastard,” Sophia spoke to Lord Eustace. “She was about to tell the world what you are.”

  “Was she?” Lord Eustace asked. “What do you truly know, Lady Randolph? She was Kasai’s most trusted confidant.”

  “I know,” Sophia said, “you are supposed to be dead.”

  “Yes.” Lord Eustace lips curled around his teeth. “Helle was my jailer, not my unwilling accomplice.”

  “Sophia,” Randolph called softly, “put down your gun. My men will attend to Lord Eustace.”

  She remained frozen. “He shot her. Right through her heart.”

  “I know,” Randolph said. “Let us take him.”

  Sophia shook her head no. “You will take him but there will be no justice. There must be justice.”

  Ache curled like smoke around Randolph’s heart. “Your part in this is over.”

  “What of Kasai? What of his vengeance against my father?”

  “The records she carries,” Lord Eustace said, “will show the true nature of the Under Secretary’s character. Baneham created Kasai. The Under Secretary used Kasai to his own end—and had Baneham killed. Once the Under Secretary is arrested, Kasai becomes, once again, a figment. He will be no threat to you…nor to anyone else. She,” the duke’s brother gestured to the body on the floor, “is the one who wanted you dead.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Sophia said. Her cheeks slowly darkened—an awful color speaking of anger and vengeance. “Why would she kill Garrett?”

  “She was protecting the Under Secretary—they have been working together all along. Garrett is the only other person who could testify of Kasai’s crimes against me—against the others he released from imprisonment.”

  “Your crimes, you mean,” Sophia said. “The story works just as well with you as the mastermind.”

  “Who are you going to believe, a bastard whore like Helle or the son of a duke?”

  “There is only one way to tie up all the loose ends.” Sophia placed her finger on the hammer.

  Randolph whispered fiercely, “You don’t need to do this, Sophia.”

  “She’s mad,” Lord Eustace said.

  Randolph took a step toward Sophia. She did not flinch. He took another step.

  “The final rule,” she said brokenly. “Clean up loose ends.”

  “You don’t need Baneham’s rules any longer. We don’t need them.”

  “This is so touching,” Lord Eustace said.

  Randolph motioned to his men. They took aim at Eustace. “My men will take care of him.” Randolph drew close
to Sophia and whispered, “Only us.”

  Sophia blinked. Slowly, she lowered her weapon. “Only us.”

  “Secure,” Randolph called out.

  Harrison swung into the room, holding the doorframe.

  “Sophia is fine,” he called over his shoulder. “The Furies are worried.”

  “Oh God, the Furies,” Sophia said, as if just waking. “…and Helena.” She dropped on her knees beside her sister’s body.

  Harrison’s gaze moved from Sophia to the body on the floor to the man in the doorway.

  “Eustace,” Harrison’s voice was flat, his expression unreadable.

  “Harrison,” Eustace replied.

  The acknowledgment was all that verbally passed between the two men.

  “Bind him,” Randolph ordered.

  “I demand to see my brother,” Lord Eustace said.

  “That would be Wynchester to you.” Thea stood in the doorway, arm and arm with Lavinia. “And he is indisposed.”

  “Duchess,” Eustace said with a mock-bow. The word was laced with hate.

  “Take him below,” Randolph ordered.

  “You know your duty,” Lord Eustace said to Thea as the men led him past.

  “Of course. Wynchester will come for you,” she answered with a chilling smile. “But he will not be alone.”

  “Now you are the devoted wife,” Lord Eustace called over his shoulder. “Wynchester may have chosen you the last time, but you have since betrayed him. He will choose differently this time.”

  “Just wait and see,” Thea whispered.

  “What next?” Harrison said.

  “The Privy Council will want to question him.”

  “Do you believe his story?” Sophia asked.

  Harrison and Randolph exchanged glances. “It doesn’t matter what we believe. The Duke must be informed.”

  “Lord Eustace is after the title,” Thea said.

  “Or,” Randolph replied, “he could be the one wronged, and will recover.”

  “He cannot,” Harrison said, “make an attempt on Wynchester’s life in the open.”

  Thea set back her shoulders. “If he wants to get to Wynchester, he will have to get through me.”

  “You won’t be alone,” Lavinia said.

  “No, you will not,” Harrison said, threading his arm through Lavinia’s.

  Thea flashed a tight smile. “Thank you.”