“I am not disappointed,” the older woman snapped. “I am heartbroken and deeply affronted. My own grandson and I am not even permitted to attend his wedding!” Her complaints were accompanied by a theatrical sniff as she touched a handkerchief to her curiously dry eyes. “A wedding, I might add, that would never have occurred if not for my beneficence.”
“It wasn’t that we didn’t desire your presence, but that, in light of events that had occurred and Val’s concern for my safety, he felt we should proceed cautiously,” Lilly explained, looking to Val for help. He simply shrugged and crossed to one of the chairs that flanked the fireplace where he promptly sat and waited for her to sort out the issue.
“Because he thinks his cousin is a murderer,” the dowager duchess snapped. “I know what he thinks. It’s utter foolishness. Elsworth isn’t capable of such a thing!”
Lilly had her doubts. More so than even before after seeing a man that could easily have been Elsworth fleeing from Mr. Littleton’s office. Not to mention his threats toward her, both overt and subtle. “I know you want to believe the best of him—”
The dowager duchess cut her off with a laugh. In fact the old woman laughed so long and hard she collapsed into a coughing fit. Finally, wheezing a bit, she managed, “Believe the best of him? My dear girl, it isn’t that I think him too good to commit such atrocities! I simply question his intelligence in carrying out such a plan… as well has his nerve! He is weak. He always has been weak. I love him because he is my grandson but I am not blind to his faults. Nor am I blind to Valentine’s!”
Lilly sat back, stunned by the admission. “Oh, well… we didn’t really think he was doing it on his own,” she explained. “At least not the planning portion of it.”
The dowager duchess’ eyes narrowed. “And who do you think is planning it, then? Me?”
“Of course not!” Val finally interjected. “We both know if you wanted to do us harm, you’d simply skewer us with your vicious wit. But as to who may be planning it all and having poor, dupable Elsworth carry out their dastardly deeds, I’d rather not say until we have more information.”
The deceptively frail-appearing woman made a harrumphing sound. Then, in a tone dripping with bitterness, she added, “Fine. You will do as you wish regardless. I’m just your poor, old grandmother… too old, too weak, too feeble-minded to be of any use to anyone. I might as well go ahead and rattle off to my grave.”
“Please! If you died tomorrow, you’d only haunt us until we did your bidding,” Val replied sarcastically. “Not even death could prevent you from getting your way.”
Called on her bluff, the dowager duchess sat up a bit straighter. “I will haunt you. Every day of your wretched life, you rotten boy! And there will be a wedding… an actual one. With all the trimmings and all the fuss. You’ll not deny me that. I’ll see you married in St. Paul’s under the mournful gaze of every marriage-minded mama whose efforts were foiled by my own excellent matchmaking. It will serve them right for salivating and chasing after you the way they have. No dignity whatsoever!”
“But we did get mar—” Lilly began and was abruptly cut off by Val making a panicked gesture.
“Whatever you say, Grandmother. Your wish is our command.”
Apparently telling the dowager duchess that they’d already been married in St. Paul’s would not be in their best interests.
“We wouldn’t have it any other way, your grace,” Lilly added, before glaring at Val. The last thing she wanted was a society wedding. They would be the subject of so much gossip anyway it only seemed to be adding fuel to the fire to her mind. “And we’ll have to wait until my half-sister returns from the country, of course.”
The dowager duchess nodded. “Yes, having your half-sister there, along with her husband, that reprobate Lord Deveril, will help to combat any whispers regarding your suitability. Your father is a gentleman, after all. Your half-sister is married to a lord, no less. And with Valentine’s expectations of a sizable inheritance and a dukedom… well, who would dare gainsay his choice, regardless?”
Everyone would. But Lilly didn’t say that, instead she just smiled and tried to will away the sick feeling that had settled like a brick in the pit of her stomach. “Naturally you are correct, as always, your grace.”
“You should call me Grandmother, dear. We are family now, after all.”
“Grandmother,” Lilly said, the word feeling positively unnatural on her tongue.
“Now, you must go upstairs and have your maid get rid of every terrible thing I made you wear for the last few months. It was all part of the plan, you know?”
“I’m beginning to see that,” Lilly said.
“Good girl. Get rid of all of it and then we will go shopping. I know my dear grandson provided some things for you, but aside from marrying you, my girl, his taste is rather questionable, as well. He knows how to dress women, but not how to dress ladies. And we need for all of society to look at you with envy!”
That was the last thing in the world she wanted. Looking at Val with pleading eyes, she silently begged for his assistance.
“Grandmother, I understand that Lilly’s wardrobe will certainly need to be updated beyond the few things we’ve purchased, but it is our honeymoon. The shopping expedition can wait a day or two, can it not?” he asked.
“Very well. We’ll need those scratches on her cheek to be fully healed before we are seen too much by those who would gossip about it, at any rate,” the dowager duchess agreed. “And do try to not let anyone else shoot at her, Valentine. It’s most disconcerting!”
It was obvious that he was fighting back a grin as he replied, “Certainly, Grandmother. That is precisely what my dear bride said about nearly having her head blown off… it was quite disconcerting. If you’ll excuse us now?”
“Go on then. Rotten, irascible boy,” the dowager duchess groused.
As they rose and left the drawing room, Lilly was fuming at him. “Your grandmother is right. You are rotten and irascible. And incorrigible!”
“But I’m not a boy,” he replied. “I’m very much a man… or do I need to prove that to you again?”
She blushed to the very roots of her hair. “We will not indulge in such activities in the middle of the day in a residence we are sharing with your grandmother,” she hissed.
“Oh, but we shall,” he said. “She wanted us married, she can live with the scandalous consequences of it.”
That sobered Lilly quickly. Any hint of amusement and teasing fled. “I don’t want to be in society, Val. I don’t. They are vicious and terrible and they’ll eat me alive. It’ll be whispers and the cut direct and all manner of terrible, humiliating things!”
He stopped then and faced her squarely. “You know that will not happen? That woman in there—that tiny, fragile-looking and yet made of forged steel woman—she chose you. She decided from the moment she laid eyes on you that you and I should be together and then she engineered us both right to the altar. And I personally couldn’t be more grateful to her for it. But if she wants society to bow and kiss your slippers, they will bloody well bow and kiss them. Because she never fails to get what she wants.”
“But my whole life—”
He kissed her then. Just a quick press of his lips to hers, a gesture of affection and quite possibly even exasperation. “Trust me, Lilly… and trust her. I promise that you can.”
She so desperately wanted to believe that. In her whole life, there had only ever been two people she could trust—Effie and Willa. Not even the other girls at school had been confidantes for her. She’d always been cautious, aware that anything she said might later be used against her. It was a hard lesson learned at her father’s hand. “I do trust you both, but only so far. I can’t help that. But I’m trying.”
“Even after all we’ve shared?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she replied. “I can trust you with my body. It’s easy enough to see you are not the sort of man who would ever hurt a woman physically. Bu
t that doesn’t mean you won’t break my heart… and your grandmother—well, she’ll be kind to me so long as it serves her purposes to do so.”
“You are wrong about her. She admires you, Lilly. She sees something in you that made her draw you into the fold of our family,” he said.
“Wrong about her, but not about you.” His election not to address her statement about him being the potential cause of her heartbreak had not gone unnoticed. “You can’t even say that you won’t break my heart, can you?”
“I can say that I do not wish to… and that I will do everything in my power to prevent it. Is that enough?”
It would have to be. “I don’t want to think anymore. Can you make the incessant whir of thoughts simply stop?”
His eyes darkened with sensual promise. “I can. And I intend to, as soon as you climb those stairs… or should we scandalize everyone and I can carry you up?”
Part of her wanted that, but she decided that discretion was not without its merits. “Wait five minutes and follow me,” she instructed.
“Only if you promise to be naked when I arrive,” he bargained.
“Then we have a bargain, Husband.”
Chapter Nineteen
It was late afternoon, inching toward dusk, when Val managed to rouse himself from their bed. All of Lilly’s things had been moved into his chambers at his request. He didn’t much care if it sent shockwaves through the entire house. Being apart from her was not something he was willing to do. For her safety and his own peace of mind, he wanted her close. But that wasn’t his only reason. Living in a house full of servants, as well as his impossibly nosy grandmother, he was reluctant to let everyone know if and when he was visiting his wife’s chamber. The only way to avoid that was to avoid traipsing down the corridor every time he wished to have a word with her, or anything else for that matter.
She slumbered on, clearly exhausted. But then he’d noted even the morning before as they’d walked into the church how tired she looked. She’d had far too much to deal with of late. Threats and attempts on her life, Elsworth lurking in the shadows at every turn. Relatives turning up out of the blue to leave her a fortune assuming she’d dance to their tune. He couldn’t eliminate the threats and he couldn’t change the nature of her relationship with her relatives, but he could put a halt to Elsworth’s skulking.
Thinking of the way all of his interactions with Elsworth went, Val steeled himself and his temper. He intended to have a conversation with Elsworth and nothing would stop him. No sniping at one another, no veiled insults, or they’d never get anywhere. He would tell his cousin what he knew and he would find out just how deeply he was into the mess. With that in mind, Val began to dress, pulling on his discarded breeches and shirt. He donned his waistcoat but left off with his cravat and coat. It was hardly a formal occasion, after all, accusing one’s cousin of treason.
After donning his boots on the off chance that Elsworth might make a run for it and he’d be forced to give chase, he left the room. He spared one more glance at his wife’s sleeping form before closing the door gently behind him so as not to wake her. He headed down the stairs and to the small billiard room off the library. It had always been Elsworth’s preferred space though he had no skill for the game. It was the seclusion of the space that had always appealed to him, Val thought. Even when they’d been younger, long before the bitterness and begrudging behavior had developed between them, Elsworth had often preferred his own company and the questionable pleasure of solitude.
As he entered the room, his cousin looked up from his seat before the window. Immediately, Elsworth crumpled the note he held in his hand and tried to hide it. A guilty flush crept over the man’s face and it was quite apparent that whatever had been in his note, he’d not wanted anyone to see.
“Bad news?” Val asked.
“Not at all. Insignificant,” Elsworth answered, but his words and his expression were incongruous. “I see you’ve managed to tear yourself away from the considerable charms of your new bride. She might be common, but she is rather pretty.”
“Damned by such faint praise. What bothers you so much about her, Cousin? That she is secure enough in herself that she doesn’t require your approval or that our grandmother clearly sees a kind of strength and intelligence in her that has earned the dragon’s respect?” Val asked.
“Do you really think that? Our grandmother holds her in no particular esteem,” Elsworth said with a dismissive laugh. “You underestimate the old woman still. She understood that you, with your rebellion and your need to court scandal, would only ever marry a woman who was unsuitable. She simply placed the least objectionable version of that before you!”
There was some element of truth to that, but it was an oversimplification. As in so many situations, his cousin was incapable of seeing beyond his own very black and white vision of the world. But addressing that would only undermine his purpose in speaking to his cousin. “I didn’t come here to fight with you, Elsworth.”
“We can do nothing else. You should go back to her and begin trying to produce the requisite heir. It would certainly be a better use of your time,” Elsworth said dismissively.
“I know about Marchebanks,” Val said abruptly, not even acknowledging Elsworth’s crass suggestions. “I know about the offer you had to invest in the munitions shipments… what I don’t know, Elsworth, is whether or not you realized those munitions would never reach British troops. Did you have any idea?”
Elsworth rose then, his temper flaring. “Contrary to what you think, Valentine, I am not a fool. The return would have seen me set up for life!”
“The only return you’ll get from this is the hangman’s noose!” Val shouted back at him. “How, Elsworth? How can you betray your own country?”
“It’s easy enough… I detest England. I detest this miserable system of class where I must bow and scrape at your feet for even the smallest bit of coin! I should have been the viscount. I should have the promise of a dukedom lying ahead of me! Heaven knows I’m more suited to it than you with your common whore of a wife!”
Val didn’t take the bait. He would not allow Elsworth to stoke his temper, even though he longed to slap the whelp for uttering such an insult. “Tell me where the ambush is to take place, Elsworth! If you do, I might be able to keep your name out of it, to make it appear as if you were duped by these individuals rather than being a knowing participant!”
“Why would you?” Elsworth challenged.
“Because it will kill our grandmother… and while you may detest me, I know you care for her,” Val offered.
“Do you? You’re wrong. You think I don’t know how she detests me? That even after all you’ve done, that you are still her favorite? No, Cousin. I care not a whit for anyone in this family,” Elsworth denied hotly.
“Then do it to save yourself,” Val urged. He didn’t believe Elsworth. He knew the man was simply speaking from wounded pride and not a sincere lack of feeling. He could see it in his cousin’s gaze. “If you tell me… if you give me what I need to stop it, I might be able to keep you from swinging at the end of a bloody rope!”
Elsworth looked at him for the longest moment. “It’s too late for that.”
“It’s not. It is not! Tell me, damn you!” Val insisted. “Let me help you for once in your blasted life!”
“Why?”
Val shook his head. “Because you are family… because once upon a time we did not hate one another. Do you not recall our childhood? We laughed and played together. We did not have this viciousness between us then. For the sake of the boys we once were, let me help you.”
His cousin looked away, a muscle working in his jaw and his eyes glistening curiously. After a moment, he turned back to Val. “The ship sails in two days, but it will never make it to India. They’ll be set upon near the Channel Islands, Lihou to be specific, and the lot of the cargo stolen,” Elsworth said.
“Who? Who are they going to?”
“There are a few s
talwarts in France yet who think that they can pick up where Bonaparte left off. They’re wrong. They can’t. We both know it. Selling them guns is like selling coal to the devil—useless. You must see that!”
“I see that you could be starting another war… and we’ve lost too much already. Do you not understand how precarious our position is? The cost of war is great to our nation, but profitable to many. Who are the owners of these munitions factories? Do you even know? Who in parliament is awarding contracts to them? I know that Marchebanks likely has his hand in it!”
Elsworth turned away. “You see plots where plots do not exist, Cousin. These French fools are naught but dreamers… like the Jacobites who followed Prince Charlie. They have no leader, they have no one to rally behind. So their efforts will fail and putting guns in their hands will make no matter in the end.”
“Says the man who has never been to the front lines and watched the blood of his countrymen being spilled,” Val snapped. “It isn’t just the French! It’s the poorly-supplied soldiers in India who are dying because they haven’t the necessary tools to battle our enemies there!”
“Spare me the dramatics, Cousin. Just because you’re haunted by your experiences on the Continent doesn’t mean we’re on the verge of another war! And those primitive villagers in India are hardly a real threat! You’re a fool to think otherwise!”
Elsworth would never see the truth, because it was completely removed from his sheltered existence. Trying a different tactic, Val admitted, “I am haunted by it. But I’m not a fool, Elsworth. You think I play cards because I enjoy it, because I long to feel the thrill of winning… but you’re wrong. I play because it’s at those tables that deals such as the one you’ve made with Marchebanks are brokered. I know what you agreed to, and I know you haven’t a clue what sort of catastrophe you are about to bring raining down on you. If you allow me, I can help you. There is a way through it, Cousin.”
Elsworth looked away then, his slightly weak chin trembling for a moment before he managed to clench his features tightly and rein in that telltale sign of emotion. “I betray these men, I die. I betray my country, I still die. There is no way through it. And you, Cousin, may go to the devil!”
Barefoot in Hyde Park (The Hellion Club Book 2) Page 16
