Hell of a Lady

by Anders, Annabelle

  Surely, he could guess the answer to that.

  What was he saying?

  “You think he might have survived?” She shook her head. The cliffs near Priory Point were treacherous.

  But Rhoda felt a glimmer of hope. A flicker so tenuous she feared to acknowledge it. Could he be right? Was it really possible that Dudley hadn’t died that day?

  “But…” She had to challenge this new hypothesis. “Why would he not go back to the castle? Why would he simply disappear?”

  “Perhaps he had debts. Perhaps he feared exposure.” Justin squeezed her tight. “A body would have eventually washed up, and it would have become public knowledge.”

  “Prescott would know,” she said in a daze.

  At that moment, she felt something she’d not felt in nearly a year.

  Hope.

  It might be fleeting. Likely, she only invited further disappointment, but she would allow it to wash over her broken soul for now.

  She wished she could stay in his arms forever.

  But she also had a sudden urgent need to seek out Prescott. “Do you think it possible he’s still awake?” She sat up straight, one arm still draped around Justin’s shoulders.

  She saw a flash of his white even teeth when he smiled. “Only one way to find out.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Coming Clean

  Lord Carlisle locked the chapel doors behind them and then offered his arm as they turned to walk toward the house.

  “What if they did?” she couldn’t help but ask. Terror gripped her. “What if they did find his body?” She shivered, and he pulled her closer.

  He did not answer right away. She liked that he would give her question due consideration. So much might be at stake!

  “You led this Scofield fellow away from the duchess because he harassed her?” he asked.

  Rhoda remembered when Sophia had finally admitted what Scofield had done to her. Sophia had apologized while regaling the mistreatment she’d received at the hand of her stepbrother. She’d apologized! She’d believed she had been to blame.

  “He’d done it before,” Rhoda answered. When she’d discovered Dudley in Sophia’s room, she’d known she had to do something to get him away from her. Sophia had been distraught and sleepy from laudanum.

  Dudley Scofield had been something of a monster to Sophia.

  Had been. In her heart, Rhoda believed he must be dead. Surely, he would have come out of hiding if he were alive.

  “So, you put yourself in danger to protect your friend?” He squeezed her hand, bringing her back to the present.

  “I did what was needed.” She dismissed her action as something anyone would have done. For a friend. For somebody she loved dearly. And then a low moan escaped her for the second time in his presence. “What if a body was found? What if he is dead?”

  Was it possible Dudley had lived? Something in the pit of her stomach insisted that he had not. She’d shoved. He’d stumbled and then disappeared. So different from earlier that day but with the same result. He’d died. Her breaths grew shallow. She tried to wish her fears away but could not.

  “Wait.” Her feet couldn’t move. “I can’t breathe,” she gasped.

  Dudley’s body would have been found. The magistrate would want to speak with her. And she couldn’t lie after confessing to Justin. She couldn’t lie after confessing to the duke and to Sophia. Her heart pounded in her ears. How was her heart pounding when she couldn’t breathe?

  Justin’s mouth was near her ear, and he was whispering something. She tried to focus on his words. “Trust me.” A soothing hand rubbed her back. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Shh…” She nodded as air seemed to enter her lungs again.

  Lord Carlisle did not attempt to pull her along right away. When she was breathing normally again, he drew back a few inches and bent down so he could peer into her face.

  “Dev is a fair-minded person. Beyond that, you need to remember Sophia is his wife. If this Scofield fellow harmed the duchess at one time, and then threatened you…” His voice trailed off. He did not make a move to drag her farther along the path. He would allow her to make the decision regarding her confession. A cold wind swept through the trees and drew a shiver from her.

  His warmth protected her from the brunt of it.

  She leaned inward, her forehead dropping onto his shoulder.

  “Yes.” She wanted to trust him. She wanted so badly to believe his words. To believe that everything would be all right… but it seemed like a fairy tale.

  She curled herself against him. In another life, she’d stay here forever. Just like this, with the wind whipping around them, holding one another for warmth. She’d never have to face her mother with this. She’d never see the disappointment on her sisters’ faces.

  When she finally stepped away from him, he took hold of her hands. “All right? You’re ready?” He looked so earnest, so dependable.

  She nodded, and they continued on their way. The terrifying thoughts threatened once again when the manor came into sight. And again, when he opened the large front door. She stepped inside, hoping against hope the duke and Sophia had retired for the evening.

  She needed answers though, didn’t she? Was knowing better than not knowing? With one hand protectively guiding her from behind, Justin’s other hand gripped hers supportively.

  They approached the duke’s study, and Justin knocked loudly.

  Rhoda’s heart fell into her shoes as Sophia called out, “Come in.”

  They hadn’t yet retired for the night.

  Stepping in, Rhoda took in the brocaded walls, the heavy wooden desk, and a few paintings hanging behind it. She recognized one as the previous duke and the dowager.

  She shivered. Could her secrets be contained within this room?

  Justin steered her inside, their hands clasped together but hidden in the folds of her gown.

  The duke had been carrying Sophia and was just setting her down as they entered.

  “If we’ve come at a bad time…” Rhoda shook herself free of Justin and attempted to back out of the room. They wouldn’t want to discuss this now. They would wait until morning.

  “No, it’s fine.” Sophia looked curious. Of course, she would. Sophia always looked curious. “Sit down. Dev, let’s sit by the fire, shall we?” Half the candles had been doused. Sophia moved the screen to one side of the hearth and then gestured for the duke to join her on one of the sofas.

  That left a second loveseat for Rhoda and Lord Carlisle.

  By the time they all made themselves comfortable, Rhoda’s mouth had gone completely dry. She sat primly, ankles together and back straight. Justin leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

  As the clock ticked loudly, the awkwardness of the situation grew.

  “Um, would you care for something to drink, Rhoda, my lord?” Sophia went to stand but when both of them shook their head, she dropped back onto the cushioned sofa beside Prescott.

  “Last summer,” Lord Carlisle began.

  These words captured the duke’s attention. “Yes?”

  Sophia straightened her spine.

  “Other than Lord Harold’s, have any remains been discovered?” The question sounded so very non-incriminating. Rhoda wished she’d not released his hand. Did he never need anyone else’s strength?

  “Of course, a few weeks later.” Prescott seemed to phrase his answer cautiously. “When the carriage was recovered following the mudslide. My uncle’s, St. John’s.” He swallowed hard. “And my father’s.”

  Lord Carlisle nodded solemnly but then clarified, “Not near the road. On the beach.”

  Sophia turned wide eyes toward Prescott. Oh, dear God, there had been. Rhoda’s breath caught in her throat.

  “Why would you think there might have been?” the duke asked.

  Justin stared at his elegant hands thoughtfully. “Your Grace.” He looked up and addressed Sophia. “It was a horrible day for everyone, but no one more so than you. But I m
ust ask. Do you remember your stepbrother, that is, Dudley Scofield, arriving at Priory Point? Do you remember Miss Mossant interrupting him in your chamber that evening?”

  Rhoda waited for her to confirm this.

  “No.” Sophia shook her head. “I don’t remember that at all. I’d been given something to calm my nerves. I remember falling asleep.”

  Prescott seemed to be watching Sophia very carefully. When he spoke, his voice sent a chill down Rhoda’s spine. “If that bastard saw fit for any reason to enter my wife’s suite, then, or ever again, he’d not live to tell about it.”

  The meaning of his words washed over Rhoda and then Justin spoke up again. “So, no second body was ever found on the beach, washed up from the cove? No one who might have been identified as Mr. Scofield?”

  Sophia shook her head adamantly.

  Dev leveled his gaze upon Rhoda. “I can assure you. In fact, I give you my word. Only one body has ever been recovered from those cliffs. And that man is now buried on these grounds beneath Lord Harold’s tombstone.”

  Rhoda could hardly believe it. It was as though the vise that had been squeezing her chest for nearly a year loosened slightly.

  “He went to your room, Sophia.” She couldn’t keep it in a second longer. “He was up to his old tricks, so I offered to take him to join the rescue effort. But when we got there, everyone had left. Oh, Sophia, I pushed him away from me! I pushed him, and he fell! I thought he’d fallen off the cliff, the same as Lord Harold, but Lord Carlisle suggested he may have survived his fall and then run away. I’ve felt horrible. I think I might have killed him.” Her eyes filled with tears, and Sophia burst from her chair.

  “Oh, Rhoda, no, dear.” Sophia’s arms wrapped tightly around her. This embrace felt like a benediction. They clung to one another in the center of the room, both of them weeping and laughing. Rhoda could hardly believe it!

  “I thought I killed him,” she repeated again, but Sophia shushed her.

  “And that’s why you’ve been so changed! Oh, Rhoda, I wish you’d told me! But no worries! You have nothing to worry about!”

  Rhoda sniffed a few times, suddenly feeling quite ridiculous for making so much of this. She’d been so certain though…

  The duke had risen and placed one arm around Sophia. “If it’s quite all right, I think it’s time my duchess and I check in on our daughter.” He met Justin’s gaze. “We’ll see you in the morning then?”

  He would make his offer to Emily! He had no choice.

  Justin nodded. The mood of the room changing from a giddy relief to that of somber determination. “Take your time in here, if you’d like.” Sophia gestured toward the liquor cabinet. “I’m certain some sherry wouldn’t be out of order.”

  “Or something stronger,” the duke added.

  Justin nodded again. When the door closed behind them, Rhoda couldn’t help but meet his gaze.

  “You were right!” She had a wobbly smile left inside of her. She’d been so stupid. So foolish!

  How had he come to mean so much to her? And now he would offer for Emily, one of her best friends. Somebody she loved like a sister. How could she stand by and watch them wed? Watch Emily grow large with his child?

  She was such an idiot!

  The duke and duchess, God bless their souls, were hiding something. Rhododendron hadn’t caught on but there’d been something in the way they glanced between one another. Justin shook it off. He didn’t care what, and he didn’t care why. Only one body had been discovered, and it was buried now. Of that, he had no doubt. Prescott spoke the truth.

  She was free. He’d known she had a secret, but God, he couldn’t have guessed in a thousand years.

  From the look on Dev’s face, the duchess’s brother wouldn’t have lived long anyway.

  Or wouldn’t live much longer, anyhow, if he were to make a reappearance.

  Justin opened the door to the duke’s liquor cabinet and poured two snifters of brandy. Rhoda would need something to calm her nerves. What a night!

  She’d kissed him.

  He’d thought he’d died and gone to heaven when she’d placed her fingers along his face. She’d touched him in wonder, almost. And then he had, in fact, experienced heaven on earth when those soft lips of hers settled upon his. Lips he’d longed to taste for months now.

  She’d come to him. She’d trusted him. And God help him, she’d wanted him. For a moment, she’d wanted him and needed him the way he’d wanted her since the moment they met.

  And he was beholden to offer for Miss Goodnight in the morning.

  What a mess. What a sodding blasted mess.

  His hand brushed hers as she took the snifter from him.

  “Have you tasted brandy before?” Somehow, he thought that she had.

  She smiled secretly over the glass as she tilted it to take a sip. She had. Of course, she had. God, this woman…

  He took his seat beside her again, close enough so that they touched, through his breaches, through her skirts. Her aura tugged at him. Could he consider himself free for a few more hours? He might be, but that didn’t mean he was free to compromise another woman.

  “Tell me about this betrothal of yours, with Blakely. Explain to me why it’s so complicated. Surely, it isn’t more complicated than this?” He waved a hand between the two of them. Perhaps if she spoke of her upcoming marriage to another man he’d stop focusing on the warmth of her thigh. Perhaps if she told him the details of her planned elopement, he’d stop leaning closer to capture the scent of her perfume.

  It wasn’t the same on Miss Goodnight. He should have known. The scent was different on Rhoda. It was spicier, warmer.

  She cringed. By God, she cringed. “I imagine we’ll be leaving soon. Now that Emily’s future is settled.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I told her I wouldn’t elope until she…” As though suddenly realizing who she was talking to, she trailed off, looking ashamed.

  At her words, his heart dropped. Had Rhoda conspired with Miss Goodnight? Had Miss Goodnight worn the perfume intentionally?

  The look on her face confirmed his suspicions. Hadn’t Blakely warned him about marriage-minded misses? He ought to have listened to the man. Except… “Did the two of you conspire against Blakely as well?”

  A cold black sensation gripped his heart.

  Miss Mossant’s gaze dropped to her lap. He nearly felt ill. Justin had all but fallen in love with a conniving liar. Ironic that he could ignore what she’d done with St. John, believe the best of her where a man’s death was concerned, but for her to have lied to him… For her to have conspired with her friend against him…

  He rose from his seat tiredly. “I’ll escort you to your chamber then.” She glanced up with apologetic eyes. God, those eyes. The depths of her gaze nearly overwhelmed the disappointment running through his veins.

  She stood, and he gestured for her to precede him out the door. He didn’t want her to take his arm. He didn’t want to touch her. It bothered him that his body craved her despite what he’d learned. Even now, his eyes devoured the delicate curve of her shoulders, her slim waist, and flared hips. And now that he’d held her in his arms, tasted her kiss, he burned for more.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Change in Plans

  Despite being relieved of her guilt over Dudley Scofield, Rhoda climbed into bed sick at heart.

  She’d kissed him. He’d held her in his arms as she’d told him everything. He’d seen reason where she never had. And Prescott said they’d never recovered a body.

  But then she’d gone and admitted the plan she and Emily had devised. Even though Rhoda hadn’t come up with the specific details for Emily to compromise Lord Carlisle, she’d certainly pushed her in that direction.

  He’d looked at her differently the moment he learned the truth. He’d pulled away and then addressed her formally once again.

  As though they’d never been together in the chapel.

  Rhoda buried her head in her pil
low.

  Tomorrow, he would offer for Emily. He’d offer because of his honor. Because he was that sort of man. Perhaps it was best that he hate her.

  Would he forgive Emily? Could they ever find peace together? Contentment?

  Cecily had been right.

  “Mama wants to depart for London in the morning,” Coleus whispered from her side of the bed.

  “I thought you were asleep.” Rhoda turned over to address her sister. Of course, mother wouldn’t wish to stay on after what had transpired tonight. Hell and tarnation, if her mother knew the half of it, Rhoda would never see the light of day again.

  But they couldn’t return to London yet! Her mother would learn of the wager. Rhoda wouldn’t care nearly so much for herself, but this would be ruinous for Coleus and Hollyhock.

  “Coleus, I need you to do something for me.” Ah, more lies.

  “What?”

  A great deal of convincing was not going to be required. Coleus likely didn’t want to return to London either. “You need to tell Mama you’re sick tomorrow. We need to stay one more day.”

  Coleus yawned. “How come?”

  Hmm… she couldn’t very well confide that she intended to run away with Lord Blakely. “Er, well, we have to be here to support Emily! I can hardly leave on the day my best friend becomes betrothed, now, can I? Will you, Cole? Please?”

  “That will mean I have to spend the entire day abed.”

  “Once matters are settled, I think Mama might change her mind about leaving. You don’t really want to go back to London before the party is over, do you?”

  Coleus plumped her pillow. “No. I’ll tell Mama I’m too sick to travel. But you need to bring me some sweets from the kitchen, okay?”

  Of course, Coleus wouldn’t allow Rhoda to get away without some sort of exchange. She was her sister, after all. “I promise.” Rhoda sighed and lay back against her own pillow, watching shadows from outside dance on the ceiling.