Strong hands gripped her shoulders, giving her a firm but gentle shake. “Pull yourself together. It will work. I am a viscount. You are my viscountess. There is no one to demand justice on behalf of Neville or Roger as you are their only family… do you understand? With no one to bring suit, it will go no further.”
Meg felt the pistol slipping from her fingers and then it seemed like the ground was rushing up to meet her. She put her hands out to catch herself, to break her fall even as the world went black.
Chapter Sixteen
Leo caught her before she collapsed entirely, but he staggered under the weight. He’d never tell her that, of course. A sleepless night he did not regret and two physical altercations later, he was hardly at his best. Still, he managed to get her to the settee just as the servants, noticeably absent when they were needed, were now piling in through the library door, all but stacked atop one another.
“Get some smelling salts for Lady Amberley,” he ordered. “And send someone for the magistrate.”
“He won’t come,” the housekeeper replied. “Can’t stand the sight of either Mr. Snead. But we’ll let someone know they’ve passed on just the same. Gardner found the elder Mr. Snead a few moments ago.”
“What do you mean he won’t come?”
“Just that, my lord,” she said. “He’ll wash his hands of it all and say good riddance. I believe there is a bit of bad blood between them on account of Mr. Snead the younger and the magistrate’s daughter.”
“Is there a woman in this county he has not accosted?” Leo demanded.
“Likely not, my lord,” the housekeeper answered grimly. “As I said, we’ll inform him. No doubt, he’ll classify it as an act of self-defense. It was, was it not? He came in ranting, raving and carrying on like a madman he did. Drunk, I believe. And at this hour.”
Slowly, all of the servants began to nod, offering “ayes” of assent. Leo realized that the housekeeper, loyal to Sir William and to Margaret, had simply swayed the entire staff to support a narrative that was at least partially true. “Thank you,” he said, the words infused with a wealth of meaning.
“Certainly, my lord,” she said, and with a wave of her hand, a flurry of activity began. Neville’s body was draped with a sheet. The front door slammed in the wake of a footman gone to inform the local magistrate of what had transpired. The butler simply receded into the background. He’d backed the wrong play and had come to realize it. Then a maid appeared with a vinaigrette.
Leo took the little silver bottle from her and squatted down beside the settee. He wafted the foul smelling concoction beneath her nose. She coughed, sputtering at the offensive odor, and then opened her eyes.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“You fainted,” he pointed out.
“I most certainly did not. I’ve never fainted in my life!”
“I daresay you’ve never shot a man either,” he replied quietly.
At that, her face paled and she glanced about the room until her gaze landed on the linen-draped corpse of her cousin. “Oh, heavens… I thought perhaps the whole of it was just some horrible dream. I really did it!”
“You had no choice. He would have killed me,” Leo admitted. “I underestimated him from the start. We all did. But then he was very calculating in how he presented himself to the world. And once I was gone, I can’t bear to think of what he would have done to you.”
Meg shuddered. “I know that you’re right, but… I wished him dead so many times. Both Neville and Roger! And now they’re both gone and—I must be a terrible person, because my only feeling about all of it is that I’m afraid it might send me to hell! What actually became of them matters not at all.”
Leo rose and settled in on the velvet upholstered settee next to her. “It doesn’t make you a terrible person. And I don’t think it will send you to hell. They certainly went out of their way to make everyone’s life a misery while they were here, didn’t they? God will not begrudge you your temper on that score. But I don’t think it’s good for you to sit in this room staring at his remains. We’ll go upstairs and await the magistrate, if he deigns to show.”
Reaching for her hand, he felt how her fingers trembled in his. Unconsciously, he offered a reassuring squeeze and then lifted them to his lips. “It will be all right. I promise you that. I will make certain of it.”
An hour later, the footman returned and there was no magistrate in tow. Nor, per the pert message delivered by said footman, did he intend to darken the door at Sheridan Hall for what he termed “a stroke of divine fortune to rid the world of such refuse”. Meg, lying in their bed, read the note a second time to be certain.
“He’s declared Neville’s death an act of self-defense without ever even seeing his body or questioning anyone involved,” she said in dismay.
“Well, we can always call on him if you feel determined to provide testimony,” Leo teased her as he sat down beside her.
“I thought I was the only person who hated them so much. Clearly, that is not the case. They lived their whole lives collecting enemies,” she said. “What on earth makes people behave so cruelly and callously to one another?”
“I can’t say. But we don’t have to think of it or them, ever again. We will see them both buried in the morning, as quietly as possible, and then we will be off to London.”
“What has become of poor Mr. Linley?”
Leo smiled at her. “He’s got a nasty knock on the head, but will be fine. Some children found him in the woods and went to the inn for help. He was fetched back there and a doctor sent for. He’ll be right as rain in no time.”
“Thank goodness,” she said with a sigh of relief.
“Thankfully, Neville had not gotten to our coach or our driver yet. That was next on his dastardly agenda,” Leo explained. “He was on his way to the stables when he discovered Roger in the maze.”
Meg shivered. “We never discovered Roger’s secret,” she pointed out. “We still don’t know why he was on the Continent during your grand tour and why he was using my stepfather’s name.”
Leo shrugged. “It hardly matters anymore. If he was guilty of treason, it would only stir scandal we can ill afford if we go poking our noses into it. It’s best to let Roger and his many sins rest in peace together.”
Meg considered that. “I suppose that’s true. The scandal would be terrible for Julia and Louisa. They’ll be making their debuts soon and I couldn’t bear to think that your marriage to me might spoil their chances.”
“Julia and Louisa will be fine. And we will be fine. All of this, the worry about someone trying to have our marriage annulled or invalidated, about what Roger and Neville might do—that’s done, Meg.”
It didn’t seem possible. For the last six months, she’d lived almost every day in fear of them in one way or another, not only for herself but for her stepfather as well. “That’s it then?”
“Well, it was hardly simple,” he said with a laugh. “It’s involved one wedding and three funerals in the matter of a week.”
Meg laughed at that, as well, though it felt wrong to do so. “We’re terrible people.”
“No. We are just normal people who have been faced with extraordinary circumstances of late. And what I am most looking forward to is figuring out what a normal life with you will be like. No plots. No plans and schemes. Just the two of us, figuring out this marriage business together.”
Meg leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder. “I like the sound of that.”
Epilogue
Six months had passed since they left Sheridan Hall. Sitting in the morning room with Julia and Louisa, who were both swooning over the latest fashion plates, Meg smiled. She hadn’t imagined how much she would come to love them. They were like her very own sisters. She’d always longed for that, to be part of a family, and while she missed her stepfather dearly, being with Leo and his half-sisters had helped her tremendously.
“I think you should have this one, Meg! It will l
ook so pretty on you,” Louisa gushed, holding up the drawing of a very heavily adorned gown.
Meg shook her head. “We’re not shopping for me. We’re shopping for the two of you.” She hadn’t told anyone yet. Not even her husband. But she strongly suspected that purchasing new gowns for the next while would be an exercise in futility. Time and money would be better spent on letting out her existing gowns to accommodate her expanding middle. If she was correct, they would be adding to their family near the end of December.
Julia sighed. “I can’t wait for my first season… to dance at balls with handsome men and be courted!”
Louisa shook her head. “I don’t want any of that. I’ll ask Mrs. Dove-Lyon to find a husband for me, just like she did for Meg!”
“Absolutely not!”
Meg looked up to see Leo standing in the doorway, his expression absolutely firm. “Why ever not? I think it’s a perfectly acceptable way of getting a husband!”
He shot her a warning glance. “They’ll have a season, a debut, they will be courted by appropriate suitors and then… we shall see.”
Meg couldn’t hide her grin. “Well, there you have it, girls. I obtained my own husband in a most inappropriate manner it seems.”
“You most certainly did. Impoverished, barely respectable, and robbing Peter to pay Paul,” Leo seconded. “There was no appropriate manner in which to obtain a husband such as me. Now, no more talk of marriage for the two of you. I’m not quite ready for that yet. You’ll turn my hair white and my lovely young wife will abandon me in my dotage.”
Julia and Louisa returned the fashion plates to the portfolio that contained them, save the ones they’d already chosen which were set aside. When they’d gone, Meg looked at him, “You won’t really be so strict that they cannot marry for love, will you?”
He took a seat beside her. “I suppose that will depend on the gentlemen who win their hearts and whether or not they are loved in return. Infatuation fades quickly and the younger one is the more prone to that sorry state a person will be.”
She leaned back, a slight smirk curving her lips. “And is that what I am? Young and impressionable as I might be… am I only infatuated with you?”
He glanced over at her and a grin tugged at his lips. “On the contrary… you are hopelessly in love with me. You find it utterly impossible to resist my many charms.”
Reaching out, Meg brushed the tiny bit of silver at his temples. It was a recent development. “Like this? Is this one of your many charms?”
He growled at her. “Minx.”
“Please, enumerate them, Husband.”
“Well, there’s my sparkling personality,” he said, closing his hand about her wrist and pulling her to him so that she was crushed against his chest. “I’m an excellent conversationalist.” He punctuated that attribute by kissing her neck, just above her collarbone, until she shivered. “I’m an expert of some renown in ancient antiquities… particularly sculptures from the classical period with the beautiful draping of the female form.” Then his fingers were at the buttons on the back of her dress.
Meg pushed her hand against his chest. “The girls will return to this room in ten minutes because they will not be able to live without going through the rest of these fashion plates and choosing their new dresses.”
He kissed his way up her neck until his lips were pressed to her ear. Then he whispered, his voice full of sensual promise, “Of course, the primary reason you find me irresistible is that I know every inch of your perfect body and exactly how to please you.”
Meg felt the breath rush from her on a shuddering sigh. “You are the very devil. I have a dozen things to do today and now I won’t do any of them.”
He grinned. “Come upstairs. Let me make you forget all about agendas and lists.”
“I do love you,” Meg admitted. “For all the reasons you listed and dozens more. Your humor, wit, your steadfast sense of honor, your dedication to the girls… in fact, it’s your care of them that makes me certain beyond measure that you will be the best father any child could ever have.”
“I love you. I love you more every day. And when I think about how foolish I was to think that promising Mrs. Dove-Lyon one year of being a devoted husband, as if that were a task to be completed, I can only laugh. I’ll be devoted to you for the rest of my days and if God permits it, from beyond. And when we are blessed with a child of our own, I will love that child with all my heart.”
“Christmas… or thereabouts,” Meg said.
He frowned, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Christmas.”
“When we’ll have our first child. Although it’s hard to say for certain… it’s only a guess really,” she said.
His eyes widened and his lips parted with shock. But almost immediately, that expression transformed into one of complete joy along with a healthy dose of pride. “We’re going to have a child.”
“Yes… we are. And if it’s a boy, I very much want to name him William.”
Leo’s expression softened again. “I cannot think of a better name, my beautiful, loving wife. I’m sorry he won’t be here to share in the joy of it.”
Meg smiled, though the expression was a bit watery. Over the past six months, the loss of her stepfather had hit her in waves, cresting and receding. She always missed him, but the memories could cut like a knife on one day and have her laughing the next. There was no rhyme or reason to it and she had learned to simply accept them as they came and to know that any pain she suffered at his loss was worth the wonder of having known him in her life. “I think he will be. I think he’s looking over all of us now. It’s a good thought. A happy one.”
He kissed her again. “Well, given what I intend to do to you for the next hour or so, I sincerely hope he’s averting his eyes!”
Meg followed him from the room, still giggling. “Irascible, incorrigible man!”
“Yes, but an irascible and incorrigible man who has fallen hopelessly in love with his wife… forever.”
The End
About the Author
Chasity Bowlin lives in central Kentucky with her husband and their menagerie of animals. She loves writing, loves traveling and enjoys incorporating tidbits of her actual vacations into her books. She is an avid Anglophile, loving all things British, but specifically all things Regency.
Growing up in Tennessee, spending as much time as possible with her doting grandparents, soap operas were a part of her daily existence, followed by back to back episodes of Scooby Doo. Her path to becoming a romance novelist was set when, rather than simply have her Barbie dolls cruise around in a pink convertible, they time traveled, hosted lavish dinner parties and one even had an evil twin locked in the attic.
Website: www.chasitybowlin.com
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