Regency Engagements Box Set

by Charlotte Fitzwilliam

  Why then, could he not quite bring himself to believe it? Something had changed within his heart and with that came a crushing guilt. Guilt that he was to dishonor the memory of Lady Cecily, guilt that he was not able to bring the consequences that Lord Islington ought to have placed upon him. Lord Islington seemed to be well aware of Jasper’s intent, for he had pushed himself forward at every opportunity, and as yet, it seemed that Miss Truwin was not eager to remove herself from Lord Islington’s company. Jasper felt as though he were failing entirely.

  “Ah, Lord Bastien! I had hoped that you would come to seek me out this evening.”

  The warm voice of Lady Landerbelt broke through his dark thoughts and forced him to lift his head.

  “You look troubled,” Lady Landerbelt continued, her bright expression fading somewhat. “You are not unwell, are you?”

  He shook his head wordlessly, resisting the urge to tell her all that was burdening his soul. There was something about Lady Landerbelt, with her intense stare and her knowing looks, that made him want to tell her everything that troubled his soul, but he could not. That would be more than he could bear and certainly would ensure that Miss Truwin was taken from his side. Lady Landerbelt had been seen often in Miss Truwin’s company, and he had heard, more than once, the loud voice of Lady Hawthorn as she exalted over her daughter’s wonderful companion and extoling the virtues of Lady Landerbelt.

  He cleared his throat, throwing aside her question. “Miss Truwin led me to understand that you had a question about a dinner, Lady Landerbelt?”

  “Indeed,” she said at once, smiling broadly. “I am to have a dinner next week and would be most delighted if you would attend.”

  “But of course,” he said automatically, without giving it even a moment of thought.

  Lady Landerbelt beamed at him. “I have one too many ladies, and I certainly could not have two sitting beside each other, without a gentleman between them, now, could I?” She laughed as though this was a matter to which she had given great thought and was now thoroughly relieved that he had agreed to it. “And I had to consider asking someone and you came immediately to mind.”

  Jasper threw a glance behind him, hearing Lord Islington’s loud voice.

  “And Lord Islington is not to be in attendance,” Lady Landerbelt continued, as though she knew very well what he was thinking. “Although Miss Truwin, being my most particular friend, will be present.”

  This brought a new lightness to Jasper’s spirits. He looked back at Lady Landerbelt and saw that she was smiling gently, a slight gleam in her eye that perhaps betrayed an awareness of what he felt.

  Not that she can know the truth, Jasper reminded himself. No one can.

  “I should be glad to,” he told her, confirming his attendance again. “I look forward to it, Lady Landerbelt. Thank you for including me.”

  “But of course!” she exclaimed, settling one hand on his arm and smiling up at him. “You are very welcome, Lord Bastien. I hope this brings a little encouragement to the rest of your evening.”

  Fully aware of what she meant and wondering just how much she had seen of his conversation with Lord Islington, Jasper took in a long breath, set his shoulders, and made to walk out of the French doors. It was already a little stuffy, but he was not in search of fresh air. Rather, he wanted to prevent himself from even glimpsing Lord Islington and Miss Truwin as they danced, for it would remind him too much of Lady Cecily.

  “Cecily.”

  He breathed her name into the darkness, hearing it float away much as she had done to him. She had gone to Lord Islington and left him behind, seeking out the gentleman she preferred over the gentleman who loved her.

  How strange that he had never once laid any sort of blame at her feet.

  Frowning heavily to himself, Jasper wandered towards the small arbor, which he knew lay a little away from the path, having been at this residence before. Sitting down heavily on the stone bench, surrounded by large trellises covered with all sorts of plants and heavily fragranced flowers. His heart grew sore as he thought of Lady Cecily, remembering how he had sat with her on many occasions, drinking in her beauty and thinking himself the luckiest man in all of England.

  How foolish that had been. Lady Cecily had turned from him towards another with what barely seemed like a second thought. She had accepted his attentions, only to be drawn away by another. Had not Lord Islington stepped to the fore, had he not shown her attention, then Lady Cecily might now be alive and well and married to Jasper. Their happiness would have been breathtaking.

  But she still chose to go to into Lord Islington’s arms, said a quiet voice in his head. Does that not mean that her feelings were not as strong as you might have wished for? That she was not devoted to you as you were to her?

  Groaning, Jasper sat forward and pushed his hands through his hair. He did not want to think such disquieting thoughts, not when he had never had cause to do so before. He had never once considered Lady Cecily to have been in the wrong; he had always blamed Lord Islington entirely. Why now was he thinking such things? Why now was he beginning to think a little less of her than before? His head ached furiously as he squeezed his eyes closed, rebelling against these strange and tumultuous thoughts.

  “Why must we talk of it now? It is a most inopportune time.”

  A sudden voice forced him to lift his head, astonished to realize it was none other than Lord Islington approaching. He could not escape the man, it seemed! Riled by frustration, he rose and made to move towards the shadowy figure of Lord Islington, only to realize that he was accompanied by someone else.

  “It is a matter of grave importance,” the second voice said, his tone low and threatening. “As you must surely be aware, Lord Islington.”

  Lord Islington sighed heavily, forcing Jasper to sit back down again, not wishing for either Lord Islington or his companion to become aware of his presence.

  “There is nothing to discuss, as I have said before,” Lord Islington said firmly. “The matter is closed.”

  “It is not,” the other man grated, stepping closer to Lord Islington so that, to Jasper’s eyes, the two men became nothing but a dark blur, no longer two but one. “You have rejected our agreement repeatedly.”

  “Because you do not deserve its fulfillment!” Lord Islington replied, with a harsh laugh. “You have shown no wisdom, no consideration, and nothing that would induce me to do as you ask!”

  “And you are the example I should follow?” cried the other man, his voice loud enough for Jasper to hear clearly. “You, who married Cecily solely for her dowry?”

  There was a breath of silence, with Jasper’s heart slamming furiously into his chest, and his fury beginning to burn once more. He had believed all along that Lord Islington had not ever truly cared for Lady Cecil, and now it had been confirmed to him as the truth. Lord Islington had only wanted Lady Cecily’s money and had done whatever had been required to get it – including ripping apart the friendship that had once been between them both.

  “You blaggard!”

  The hissed cry only just reached Jasper’s ears as the music began to play again from within the ballroom. He heard nothing more from either Lord Islington or the unknown fellow, but only silence. Shrugging to himself and thinking that both men had gone inside again, he rose to his feet and began to wander through the gardens, meandering his way towards the door.

  A groan stopped him dead in his tracks. It was a long, loud groan that had his hair standing on end, his heart beating with a furious fear.

  The dark was too thick for him to see anything, even though he stared pointedly at the ground all around him, as though he could force himself to see what was there. Blood roared in his ears as the sound came again, sweat trickling down his back. He moved towards the path, thinking that the sound had come from there, but seeing very little in the dim lantern light. There was no one else out of doors, for the next dance was well underway and most guests were either dancing or watching those who were on t
he floor.

  Another groan sounded, the slow expulsion of air coming thereafter sending waves of terror all through Jasper. Who was lying there? Lord Islington?

  “Islington?” he whispered, hearing no response from anyone or anything. “Islington, is that you? Are you injured?” Hearing nothing and having very little choice as to what else he ought to do, Jasper bent down and began to search around with his hands, thinking himself utterly foolish – until he touched something warm and rather solid. It was someone’s arm, he realized, looking towards the lantern that was placed a few feet away and wishing he could easily reach it and yet too afraid to shout out in case someone thought him responsible for whatever had happened here.

  “Lord Islington?”

  A quiet voice reached him now, making him wince as he turned his head.

  “I did see him walking out into the gardens,” said Lady Landerbelt, her voice carrying clearly towards him. “It is not like him to be tardy for one of your dances.”

  “Indeed,” replied Miss Truwin, sounding a little concerned. “But it is not as though I do not have many other dances with which to enjoy myself. He may only have forgotten.”

  Jasper rose at once, his hand leaving Lord Islington’s arm as he turned towards them, knowing that they would see him. His heart beat furiously as he took a few more steps towards the path, finally coming onto it just as they caught sight of him.

  Miss Truwin gasped audibly and grabbed at Lady Landerbelt’s arm.

  “Lord Bastien,” Lady Landerbelt said slowly, her eyes narrowing as they drew closer. “Good evening.”

  “Good evening,” he said hurriedly, wishing he had not frightened Miss Truwin so. “Ladies, I must beg a favor of you. Might you be able to fetch a footman or two? And have the French doors closed?”

  Miss Truwin and Lady Landerbelt said nothing for a moment, although Miss Truwin was looking at him with wide, frightened eyes.

  “What have you done, Lord Bastien?” Lady Landerbelt said, her voice filled with darkness. “Is Lord Islington with you?”

  Confused as to why she appeared to be so deeply upset with him, Jasper frowned and tried his best to explain. “I have come across someone in the gardens,” he said slowly, as Lady Landerbelt and Miss Truwin exchanged glances. “He is only a little way from the path. I do not know who he is, but I will require help to have him taken inside and tended to. That is…” He trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence by suggesting that the person he had found no longer lived.

  “And did you do this?” Miss Truwin asked, her voice breathy and weak as she continued to stare at him. “You injured him so?”

  Jasper blinked in confusion. “No, I did not,” he answered firmly. “Why do you ask?”

  “Your hand, Lord Bastien,” Lady Landerbelt said quietly, as he dropped his gaze to his right hand. “It is dark with blood.”

  Jasper’s heart leapt into his throat at the sight of it. The palm of his hand and the tips of his fingers were red, stained with the blood of the man he had discovered.

  “No,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he stared down at his hand. “No, it cannot be. It cannot be!”

  “Lord Bastien,” Miss Truwin whispered, still clinging to Lady Landerbelt. “What is it you have done?”

  5

  Andrea clutched desperately onto Lady Landerbelt’s arm, her eyes wide and staring as she looked at the still, horrified figure of Lord Bastien.

  She could not quite believe what had occurred.

  “Lord Bastien,” Lady Landerbelt said firmly, her voice determined and betraying no trace of anxiety. “What has happened?”

  Lord Bastien, who was still looking down at his hand, slowly lifted his head to look at Lady Landerbelt. Behind her, the music and the laughter of the ball seemed to grate against the solemnity and the horror of what Andrea was seeing, the sound seeming to burn at the corners of her mind. Lord Bastien had still not said a single word, looking at Lady Landerbelt as though she were not quite there.

  “Lord Bastien,” Lady Landerbelt said again, moving forward and speaking with an urgency that finally seemed to capture Lord Bastien’s attention. “There will soon be others that come to the gardens. You must tell us what has happened.”

  “I-I do not know who it is,” Lord Bastien whispered, as Andrea looked up into his face, seeing just how terrified he looked. “I heard a conversation and thereafter, there was nothing but silence. When I went to return to the house, I came across someone.”

  Lady Landerbelt took in a long breath and settled one hand over Andrea’s. “And where is this, Lord Bastien? You must take us to him. This cannot be seen or known by anyone.”

  Lord Bastien nodded slowly, blinked, and then turned around, seeming to struggle to put one foot in front of the other. Andrea, forcing herself to be stronger than she felt she could be, let go of Lady Landerbelt’s arm and began to follow quickly, even though her legs were shaking.

  “Wait here, Miss Truwin,” Lady Landerbelt said, coming to a stop and turning to Andrea. “In a moment, you will be required, but for the moment, you must wait.”

  Andrea did nothing but agree, standing quite still whilst Lord Bastien led Lady Landerbelt from the path and a few steps away from it, turning them into shadows almost at once. Suddenly chilled, she rubbed her arms with her hands, biting her lip as she struggled against the deep sense of fear that was burrowing away within her. Lord Bastien had been the one gentleman she had sought, the only one who had captured her mind and her heart, and now it seemed that he had been involved in something most dreadful. She did not want to believe that he had done something so horrific, but the sight of the blood on his hand was not something she could not forget.

  “Miss Truwin?”

  Andrea stumbled forward, coming to a stop at the edge of the path just as Lady Landerbelt and Lord Bastien removed themselves from the gardens, retuning to come beside her. A sudden shout of laughter had Andrea looking over her shoulder, catching her breath in fright as she saw some other guests beginning to emerge from the drawing room.

  “Miss Truwin – Andrea, I must ask you to listen very carefully and do as I ask,” Lady Landerbelt said, grasping Andrea’s shoulder and forcing her attention forward. “You must accompany Lord Bastien back inside. His hand is as clean as it can be thanks to some long grass, but it must be washed properly.” Her eyes held Andrea’s, her expression firm. “You must not believe that Lord Bastien is guilty, Andrea. I believe he is in a good deal of shock. I must ask you to help him in this, for fear that otherwise, society will think him entirely guilty should someone notice his hand.”

  Andrea found herself nodding, her blood running cold as she took Lord Bastien’s arm, as though they had come out walking together.

  “I shall remain here for a time and ensure that someone is notified of what has been discovered, in as quiet a fashion as I can,” Lady Landerbelt continued quietly. “But I cannot be sure that it will remain hidden from the ton. You must be well away from here before I do this. Please, Andrea. Go now.”

  Andrea tried to turn only to find Lord Bastien standing stock still, seemingly fastened to the ground.

  “Go at once, Lord Bastien,” Lady Landerbelt said fervently. “Please, you must go. We will talk of this later.”

  Quite how Andrea managed to walk into the ballroom with Lord Bastien beside her, she did not quite know. The music and the laughter hit her like a wall, forcing her to smile when her mind was screaming with all that she had seen. Lord Bastien moved forward with a sudden dogged determination, walking straight ahead and not seeming to care about removing himself from the path of anyone who was in front of him. Andrea, half dragged along beside him, had to hurry forward with him, her hand trapped under his arm as her heart beat at a furious pace.

  “Brandy will do,” she heard Lord Bastien mutter, as he quit the ballroom and hurried into what appeared to be a small parlor. “If there is no water, then I shall use whatever there is at hand.”

  Andrea, finally re
leased from Lord Bastien, stumbled back as he pulled a large kerchief from his pocket and plunged it into whatever it was in the large glass cafetière in the corner. She watched with wide eyes as he rubbed at his hand, clearing off the remnants of the blood that had clung to it. Pressing one hand to her mouth, she shuddered violently at the sight, seeing the grim line of his mouth and the darkness in his eyes.

  “Was it Lord Islington?” she whispered hoarsely, making Lord Bastien look up, his expression a mask as he returned to the task at hand. “Do tell me at once, Lord Bastien, if it was so. I must know.”

  He said nothing, the air fraught with a deep tension that ran through Andrea’s bones.

  “Please,” she whispered, taking a step forward, only to realize that she might then be walking straight into the arms of a murderer. Trembling visibly, she moved back just a little. “You cannot keep this from me.”

  Lord Bastien shook his head, his eyes lowering to the floor. “I did not kill Lord Islington,” he said, his voice quiet but yet still seeming to fill the room. “I will not pretend that I thought well of him, Miss Truwin, and I certainly will not state that I wanted the very best for him, but I certainly did not have anything to do with his death.”

  Andrea closed her eyes, feeling herself swaying furiously as the truth hit her, even though she had already expected to hear the news that Lord Islington was dead. A vision of Lord Bastien’s hand, dark with blood, threw itself back in front of her eyes and made her feel all the more horrified. Her stomach roiled, nausea climbing up her throat and before she knew it, she was staggering forward, only to be caught by Lord Bastien.

  “Leave me!”

  She tried to push him away, tried to remove herself from his arms, but she could not. Her legs were weakness itself, her head spinning with a dizziness that just would not pass.

  “I did not do this,” Lord Bastien said, his hands tight about her as he held her close, his mouth close to her ear. “I did not do anything to Lord Islington. I found him, that is all.”