by Maya Banks
A single tear trailed out the corner of her eye, wetting the pillow. Then another. As the day faded to night, so did her hopes. No matter what she chose to do, she wouldn’t have what she most wanted. She’d have her freedom, but the price she’d pay was more than she ever dreamed it would be.
She’d spend the rest of her life in agony over the love she lost.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jenna sipped at the warm cup of chocolate then glanced back over the letters in her hand. Her anger told her to just hold the papers to the candle in front of her and forget the whole sordid affair. But common sense directed her to hold onto the only proof she had. No matter the selfish motives that prompted her affair, she was a person solidly rooted in what was right and wrong. And allowing Stuart to get away with murdering his mother was wrong.
She leaned back in her father’s large chair, leaving the letters lying on his desk. She could hire a Bow Street runner to handle the investigation, or she could simply hand over the letters to the viscount and trust him to do the right thing. She would have to offer a detailed explanation to Mamma and Papa when they returned, and she was sure, though their disappointment would be great, that they would understand and forgive her.
Though her heart ached with grief over Gray’s rejection, she felt at peace over her decision to take her future into her own hands.
Her contemplation was interrupted when Thomas cleared his throat from the doorway of her father’s office. “My lady, Viscount Dudley is here to see you.”
Her head came up in surprise as she digested this most unexpected news. Glancing down at the letters and then back up at Thomas, she managed to stammer out, “Tell the viscount, I will receive him shortly. And Thomas, see that we are not disturbed.”
Thomas nodded and retreated from the study.
She stuffed the letters into her father’s desk and hurried for the door. She would see the purpose in his visit before deciding what to do about her new-found knowledge.
Not bothering to check her appearance, she walked gracefully into the drawing room where the viscount waited. To her relief, he was alone. Disregarding any notion of propriety, she shut the door behind her. She then turned to face the viscount, who had risen upon her entrance.
“My lord,” she said, executing a polite curtsy.
“Lady Jenna,” he returned with a perfunctory nod of his head.
“May I offer you refreshment?”
“No need, my lady. I am sure you know well the purpose of my visit. I see no need to bandy words, so I’ll get directly to my point.”
“Your directness is appreciated, my lord,” Jenna said as she came to a stop by the window. She refused to sit and offer him the advantage, so she stood, staring unblinkingly at him.
“Stuart has informed me that you’ve been to see him and have broken off the engagement.”
Jenna nodded.
“I want this nonsense dispensed with at once. This marriage will take place. You can be assured your father will hear from me when he has returned.”
A dark scowl marred his beefy jowls, and his face reddened as his words became more and more pronounced. His fists were clenched in agitation, and Jenna noted the perspiration that dotted his forehead.
What made this marriage so important? The viscount’s stature ensured Stuart would be well received by any number of prestigious families. There were certainly more notable families than hers.
A perplexed frown wrinkled her brow even as she prepared her response. “I will not reconsider my decision,” she said softly. “No matter what you or my father may say otherwise. I will not marry Stuart.”
“Don’t be a nitwit, girl,” the viscount seethed. “You’ll do as you are told. I don’t know what silly notions you’ve gotten into your head, but you will honor the agreement between your father and me.”
“I have said all I intend to say on the matter.”
The anger disappeared from the viscount’s face and in its place a slow, oily smile spread across his plump cheeks. “Come now, my dear. It would be a shame for your parents and the rest of London to learn of your activities wouldn’t it?”
Bells of alarm sounded in her head as she took in the viscount’s meaning, but still, she would not admit so easily her affair. Had Stuart told him? Of course, he would have. “I don’t know what you are referring to, my lord.”
“Don’t you, now? Your nightly excursions to your lover’s. Come now, you didn’t really think you were that circumspect?” His expression was triumphant, and his eyes glittered in victory. “The marriage will take place, Lady Jenna, or I will take great pleasure in recounting your exploits, not only to your parents, but to society as well.”
Anger, red and hot, exploded in her head spreading to every single part of her body. Were she close enough to him, she may well choke him. She had been right to be wary of him. He was a snake of the first order. But she would not be bullied by him or anyone else. Not now.
Drawing herself up, she stared unflinchingly at him. “I will not marry him.”
The viscount faltered, blatant indecision rolling across his face. Clearly he had not expected her to refuse in the face of discovery.
“You may do your worst, my lord. I have already faced up to what I know will happen as a result of our broken engagement. Your idle threats will not sway me.”
His face purpled in rage and his eyes bugged precariously from his head. He started to speak, but choked and resorted to a violent coughing spell. “You bloody bitch,” he finally managed in a raspy voice. “You will marry Stuart or else.”
“I’ll not marry a murderer,” she spat. The words were out before she could recall them, and she immediately regretted her hasty outburst.
A remarkable change came over the viscount. Gone was the uncontrollable anger. His eyes became cold, and his expression became hard. “What are you mouthing off about, girl? That is a very serious charge indeed.”
Knowing she had no choice now, she decided to be direct in what she suspected. No, what she knew. The viscount might be an arrogant boor, but surely he would understand why she couldn’t marry a murderer.
“What I have to say is, well, it will come as a shock I’m afraid. I dare say you’ll not believe it, but implore you to listen to all I have to say.”
The viscount’s tone became cajoling, his earlier acidity completely replaced by a softer demeanor.
“You certainly have my attention. Let’s not bandy words. Out with it. What would make you say such a thing about Stuart?”
“I must begin with the letter from the late Viscountess Dudley.”
“What letter?” he asked sharply. He smiled quickly. “You must pardon my tone, my dear. It’s just that what you’ve said is painful. Her death is still fresh in my memory even four years later.”
Somehow, his attempt to placate her just heightened her anxiety. She strove to state her case as delicately as possible so as not to incite him further. “My apologies then, my lord. For what I have to say will bring you even more pain.”
He looked keenly at her, his eyes boring holes through her.
“I recently found a letter from the viscountess hidden in the locket she gave me for my sixteenth birthday. In the letter she bade me to retrieve a box from her sister, and she asked me to guard it with my life.”
“What box? What was in it?” he demanded. “What did the letter say?” He advanced toward her, closing the distance between them.
Jenna stood rigidly against the window, her breathing shallow. “When I retrieved the box, I found more letters. Letters which lead me to believe that Stuart is a spy, a traitor to the crown.”
The viscount reeled as if he’d been struck. “Watch your tongue, girl,” he puffed. “You obviously do not comprehend the ramifications of such a charge.”
“Indeed I do, my lord. Furthermore, I have reason to believe that Lady Dudley was murdered.”
“Murdered? By whom?” His face swelled with
anger once more, his skin mottled and blotchy.
She took a deep steadying breath. “I believe Stuart pushed her down the stairs when he discovered she knew of his treachery.”
“A ridiculous, absurd notion. The boy loved his mother. What kind of trick are you playing at?”
“I would not make such a claim if I did not have convincing proof,” she said quietly.
“And where is this proof?” he demanded. “Show me this evidence you speak of.”
“I have not been able to locate the final piece,” she admitted. “Her letters hint at its location, but as of yet, I have been unable to decipher her meaning. But her other letters clearly implicate Stuart as a traitor. And she wrote that she feared for her life.”
“Where are these letters? I would see them at once,” he demanded. He advanced menacingly toward her and she shrank away in fright. Something about his demeanor had completely changed. A new sense of urgency marked his every movement.
“I don’t think that is a good idea, my lord,” she said in a voice she hoped didn’t betray her stark fear. “I would wait until my father returns.”
“I think I underestimated you, my dear.” His face took on a sinister glint. His eyes reflected...malice. The room swirled dizzyingly before her. Fear rolled in her stomach until she feared she would cast up her accounts right on the drawing room floor.
There is malice in his eyes. The words, the viscountess’s words, drifted back to her in a moment of alarm. How stupid she’d been. It wasn’t Stuart at all. The viscountess had only said it would destroy Stuart, and what could be more destroying than to find out your father was a traitor and a murderer?
The pieces to the puzzle came flying together in her mind. His obsession with the locket, him prompting her to wear it all the time. He’d done so because he’d hired the men to steal it from her. How stupid and blind she’d been.
In panic, she backed frantically away.
###
“Mr. Grayson, there is a woman to see you.” Masterson’s face twisted in disapproval. “I told her you weren’t receiving callers, but she was most insistent.”
“Who is it?” Gray demanded.
“She says she is Lady Jenna’s lady’s maid. Shall I send her away?”
Alarm gripped him, and he sat up straight in his desk chair. “Send her in at once.”
“Very well, sir.”
A few moments later a distraught looking older woman swept in, her face riddled with fear. Gray crossed the room to help her into a nearby chair, his stomach clenched with worry. “My butler said you are Lady Jenna’s maid?”
“Yes sir, I am,” she said in a shaky voice. “Pardon my intrusion, but I didn’t know who else to go to.”
“What’s happened? Has something happened to Jenna?” Concern made his voice sharper than he intended.
“I don’t know, sir. Viscount Dudley came to call on Lady Jenna. I knew something wasn’t right. I listened at the door. She’s been acting so strangely lately. Thomas saw her hide some letters in her father’s desk so I pulled them out and read the one on top. They were from Viscountess Dudley. Awful ramblings about traitors and her fearin’ for her life and what not. When I hurried back to the drawing room, I heard the viscount threaten her if she didn’t resume the engagement with Mr. Eglin.”
Gray’s mind whirled with all the maid blurted out. She was clearly distraught and clearly afraid for Jenna. An icy chill seized his spine. Could any knowledge Jenna had be connected to the repeated attacks on her? First at the opera and then the night she had tried to walk home?
What if Stuart and his father had been behind those attacks? Why else would they be so determined that her marriage take place? His blood boiled at the idea of anyone threatening her.
Leaving the frantic maid behind, he tore down the stairs. He barked an order to summon the carriage. Not content to await its arrival indoors, he sprinted out to the street. He risked everything by going to her house. He couldn’t very well explain away his presence if the viscount’s visit turned out to be nothing at all. But his gut told him she was in danger. God, let her be safe, he prayed. If anything happened to her, he could not go on.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You’re a lot smarter than I gave you credit for,” the viscount said, his eyes glittering dangerously as he advanced toward her. “There’s no need to try and hide it. I see it in your eyes. The sudden influx of fear. The utter panic. The realization that it wasn’t Stuart at all. Your desire to flee.”
Jenna tried to open her mouth and speak but found herself frozen. She took another step back as he continued toward her. She bumped against the window sill and slid sideways, desperate to put more distance between her and the viscount. Finally, she found her voice. “It was you?” Her hand covered her mouth in horror. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she feared she would faint in fright.
“Come now, Lady Jenna,” he said silkily. “Tell me where this evidence is.”
Her mouth went dry as she bumped into the wall behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she searched frantically for the door.
“Tsk tsk. Thinking of going somewhere? I think you have something that belongs to me.”
“You’re despicable! How could you? How could you betray your country? How could you kill your wife?”
“It was quite easy actually,” he said with a chuckle. “Spying is a lucrative business. Much easier than the more mundane ways of rebuilding a fortune such as farming or something as vulgar as trade.”
“At least trade is honest,” she spat.
“Honesty is for naïve idealists who lack the imagination to aspire to higher things.”
She turned her head and prepared to launch herself at the door, but when she looked back at him he was leveling a pistol at her.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“My brothers will be returning at any moment,” she said with forced bravado.
“Yes, and such a shame. Angry at the fact that I confronted you about your betrayal of Stuart, you made wild accusations against him. When I threatened to expose your affair, you drew a pistol and tried to shoot me. Regrettably, when I tried to wrest the pistol from your grasp it discharged, killing you in the process.”
“You’re mad.”
“I prefer to think of myself as driven. Now step away from the window. I have no wish to draw more attention by breaking the window when I shoot you.”
“You can’t kill me,” she said desperately. “If you kill me, my father will make sure you hang.”
“Your father will be more disappointed that his daughter acted so desperately,” he said with a smirk.
She searched her mind frantically for something, anything to stall. “Why did you want the marriage? I don’t understand.”
“Because I suspected my dear wife had perhaps confided in you, or at least left information for you to find. The locket seemed a likely choice. She wasn’t exactly circumspect in her efforts.”
“So Stuart is innocent of any wrong doing? Has no idea what you’ve done?”
He laughed a cruel, sinister laugh. “Poor Jenna. Would it crush you to know he was involved in every step of my plan?”
The blood drained from her face. How close she had come to disaster. But here she stood looking down the barrel of the end of her dreams. Did it matter so much that Stuart had betrayed her?
“Why?” she whispered. “Why kill me? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I couldn’t chance you opening your mouth to the wrong people,” he snarled.
“Was it you in my bedroom last night?”
He laughed harshly. “It was good of Stuart to accommodate my need to have you gone for the evening.”
“You have the locket then, why are you bothering with me?” The questions sounded desperate even to her ears, but then she was desperate to stall him.
“Yes, I have the locket. Useless now that you’ve removed the letter. I’d like that letter
back. And I’d like whatever was in the box you retrieved from Lady Dudley’s bumbling sister. I would have never guessed the daft old woman had it. But it’s of no consequence, my dear,” he said, flourishing the gun in dramatic fashion. “Because I don’t believe you’ve shared the information with anyone.”
“Of course, I have.” She stalled for more time. “I left it for my father. When he returns he’ll find all of it. He’ll never let you get away with this.”
He chuckled and shook his head, his beady eyes glittering with evil. “You are a terrible liar. You sound so desperate and pathetic. Like a woman who knows she is about to die.”
The viscount spun around as the door flew open. Gray burst into the room, a wild look on his face. “Jenna...” His voice died when he saw the gun in the viscount’s hand.
“Gray, get out of here,” she screamed.
“Don’t move or she gets a bullet through the heart.”
Gray looked between Jenna and the viscount in confusion, obviously failing to comprehend the severity of the situation.
Lord Dudley waved Gray over next to Jenna with his pistol. “You shouldn’t have come, Douglas.”
“You know who he is?”
“Of course. Did you think your little affair was secret?” He laughed uproariously. “You were about as discreet as a common whore.”
“But Stuart had no idea who my affair was with,” she persisted.
“I followed you,” he said smugly.
“Let her go,” Gray growled.
“You two amuse me,” he said as if Gray hadn’t spoken.
“Why?” Jenna asked in an effort to distract him. Perhaps if she could get him talking, Gray would have the opportunity to wrest the gun from his hand. “Why did you kill her? Why did you betray your country?”
“I’ve already answered that,” he said mockingly. “I was abysmally short of funds and Napoleon needed agents. It was as simple as that. My seat in the House of Lords afforded me the opportunity to pass along pertinent information to Napoleon’s troops. It’s too bad he was defeated, really. It was a lucrative enterprise while it lasted.”