Deadly Engagement: A Georgian Historical Mystery (Alec Halsey Crimance)

by Lucinda Brant

  “Steady on, Ned! Steady on! You’re distraught, naturally. Who wouldn’t be? It’s a shocking business, but to take it out on your own brother. To accuse him of—of—Well, it’s just not done! It’s ludicrous besides.”

  “Ask him then! Ask him if he doesn’t want Emily for himself. Ask him if he doesn’t think of bedding her. Ask him if he doesn’t hate me because she preferred me to him. Ask him what he was doing last night when this monster forced himself on my future wife. Well, Second? Speak up! Don’t just stand there putting on a brave face. Tell Cosmo your whereabouts. Tell him you don’t care in the least that it will be your elder brother in her bed on her wedding night. Eh, Second? Tell him.”

  Alec stood rigid. How he wanted to strike his brother’s sneering face, to give back measure for measure. Yet he did not want him to see how deeply his words had wounded him. Thus he set his jaw and silently counted to ten.

  The Earl smiled at Sir Cosmo. “You see. He can’t answer you.”

  Sir Cosmo ignored Delvin, saying to Alec quietly, “It’s all right, Alec. Nothing, nobody, could ever make me believe—”

  Alec cut him off. Far from appearing angry he looked concerned. “Dear me, Edward, you really do fear me. Does my very existence pray on your conscience?” He shook his head, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his frockcoat, broad shoulders slightly hunched over with embarrassment. “I love Emily,” he said to Sir Cosmo quietly, “and there was a time when I did hope to marry her but—”

  Delvin gave a half-laugh of disbelief. “—now that you’ve ruined her you don’t want her any more? You piece of filth.”

  “I certainly won’t stand by and let you marry her,” Alec enunciated bitterly.

  “Gentleman! Gentleman! Please! Let’s not—”

  “You can’t tell Cosmo where you were last night because it was you who forced yourself on—”

  Sir Cosmo growled. “That’s enough, Ned! I won’t have you spouting balderdash about your own brother! When you come to your senses you’ll regret—”

  “I regret nothing. Answer me, Second. Where were you last night?”

  “Your purpose in this is so transparent it’s laughable,” Alec said dismissively.

  “You raped Emily because you wanted your revenge on me!”

  “Revenge? Don’t be absurd,” Alec said coldly. “Your hatred of me is making you appear ridiculous.”

  “Then tell us where you went after you so rudely barged in on me in flagrante delicto.”

  Sir Cosmo stared wide eyed at the brothers. “In flagrante delicto?” He gave Delvin a friendly nudge. “You sly dog, Ned.”

  Alec scoffed at his brother’s small mindedness. “You think because I caught you out that I immediately went off to Emily’s bedchamber to avenge myself? You’re pathetic.” Alec turned on a heel. “Cosmo, excuse me…”

  Delvin grabbed his brother’s arm. “Stay where you are! I haven’t finished with you yet.”

  Alec stared at the Earl’s hand. “How dare you,” he drawled and shrugged him off, a nod to a hovering footman who came up to him then and in a whispered aside informed him the Duchess awaited him in the rose garden.

  Delvin, who had let go at the tone of command in his brother’s voice, instantly regretted having done so. He was infuriated to think Alec had once again gained the upper hand. “Damn you!” he thundered, following his brother across the room. “Stay where you are and answer me!”

  Alec stared at his brother then, face white. “Where were you in the time between leaving the drawing room and arriving at Mrs. Jamison-Lewis’ bedchamber? Oh spare Cosmo your look of offended sensibility that I mention the lady by name. I’m sure your sordid little affair is well-known in your circle.”

  Sir Cosmo regarded the Earl anew and the silly grin was replaced by a storm of mixed emotions. “Ned. Not Selina. Never Selina…”

  “Believe what you like!” the Earl threw at him as he lunged for Alec, but he recoiled when his brother took a decided step toward him, remembering their one sided encounter in the hallway. “You can’t answer me because you’re guilty! And don’t think to use your valet as an alibi. He’s in this with you! But I’ll find out! If not from you then from him: he’ll have a price. Don’t turn your back on me, damn you. Where were you last night? Answer me.”

  Alec looked over his shoulder as he quietly closed over the door. “Entertaining your mistress.”

  The Rose Garden was the oldest section of gardens at St. Neots House. With a moss-covered stone wall on three sides and beds that had been laid out in Queen Mary’s time, and little altered since, it was private and inaccessible. No coincidence then that at the gate two workmen were repairing flagstones. They tipped their hats to Alec and continued on with their work.

  The air was heavy with scent and a light breeze came up off the Thames. Altogether an idyll he had no desire to disturb. He waited a little way off from the small group, in no hurry to interrupt the animated discussion on rose varieties. He needed those few moments to calm himself. In the breakfast room he had come close to accusing his brother of exactly what he was being accused of himself. He had no proof, no reason to think he was the intruder and when he thought about it he knew it to be logically absurd. Delvin had everything in his favor as it was. To jeopardize it all in that way was indeed the act of a madman. For his brother to accuse him was no surprise. Even if Delvin did not really believe Alec to be the rapist, an opportunity to ridicule and belittle him, to cast suspicion in his direction, all to strengthen his own position with Emily and distance Alec from her and her family and friends, was an opportunity not to be passed up.

  He hoped Delvin wasn’t the intruder. He may be estranged from him, loathe and distrust him, but he did not want to think him capable of raping an innocent girl and killing her maid. Just as he did not want to believe his brother capable of luring a friend into a duel for the sole purpose of killing him. As for Delvin’s affair with Selina, this cut him to the quick and more than he cared to acknowledge. Watching her now as she talked to Emily amongst the flowerbeds he felt a curious lump form at the back of his throat.

  They were a contrast in every way: Emily dressed prettily in a simple muslin gown without hoops, her blonde curls as bright as the sun, she smiling at something Selina whispered in her ear, it was easy to think the events of the previous night just a hideous nightmare; and Selina, her mass of tight apricot curls framing a flawless complexion, the blue-black of her velvet gown with its many layered petticoats of silver tissue and gauze tippet of the same shimmering fabric, looked every bit the majestic self-assured widow of the world to Emily’s sweet naiveté. And both women belonged to his brother…

  The Duchess saw him first, and in a piece of deft maneuvering Alec found admirable, she directed the group’s attention to a row of yellow rose bushes Heath had recently staked, so she could slip away and join him in a stroll down a path of tall pink and white climbing roses.

  “I’ve asked Selina to have a talk with her,” she told him. “I hope Emily will tell her something she wouldn’t say to this old woman. You don’t know how difficult it is trying to be normal. Every time I look at her I want to burst into tears. I don’t know any more this morning than I did last night when you left us. The opiate helped us sleep, thank God. That poor boy, when I think of what we accused him! And Delvin, he’s half out of his mind with anger and worry. He didn’t ask what we all must want to know and I can’t bring myself to find out.” She peeped up at Alec. “What if—what if that monster did indeed rape her and-and has impregnated her?” She covered her mouth to stifle a sob. “Forgive me. I am not behaving myself very well.”

  Alec kissed her hand and kept it in a comforting clasp. “There is nothing to forgive, Olivia. And we don’t know exactly what happened last night. We must wait until Emily is strong enough to speak about it.”

  “Yes. Yes, of course. I am hoping Emily will confide in Selina. It was selfish of me to ask Selina but she was the same age as Emily is now when she…when she was marr
ied off to J-L.”

  “Why should Emily confide in Mrs. Jamison-Lewis any more than she would you or one of her aunts?”

  The Duchess was not deaf to the note of censure in his voice. She knelt to reposition a wooden stake that strained to remain upright under the weight of its heavy burden of roses, wondering how best to answer him without breaking Selina’s confidence. Alec helped her up then patiently waited while she inspected another flowering bush. Then they strolled arm in arm down a cobbled path that lead to the riverbank.

  “If Emily has indeed been raped who better to confide in than someone who has some understanding of her pain and suffering,” the Duchess finally said.

  Alec couldn’t help a huff of annoyance and his gaze wandered out across the free flowing river to the opposite bank with its cluster of weeping willows, overhanging branches drooping into the cold water. “Emily’s situation is entirely different. She neither provoked or encouraged her attacker.”

  The Duchess turned to face him and wasn’t surprised when he could not meet her open look. “The worst sort of wife didn’t deserve the treatment J-L meted out to that poor girl.”

  Alec continued to stare out over her head to the river but his mind’s eye could not erase the vivid picture of Selina’s shapely figure naked to the waist, her long bare legs swinging freely and dark eyes alight with mischief. “I don’t pretend to know the first thing about the Jamison-Lewis’ marriage but one wonders what demon prompted him to take a hand to her.”

  The Duchess gaped at him and sighed her impatience. “That was unjustified and unlike you! But I will forgive you your uncharitable thoughts because I understand what motivates your ridiculous logic better than you know. It must be easier to live with yourself if you apportion blame.”

  “I beg your pardon, your Grace,” Alec said with extreme but angry politeness. “But I have no wish to unsettle the dust on a most painful episode.”

  “Do you know,” she continued, anger causing her to ignore his request, “it took Madeleine’s disastrous marriage before I came to the realization that arranged marriages are all well and good for those civilized persons who abide by the conventions and act accordingly. But I am certainly not in favor of such unions when a young girl is forced to marry a man no decent parent would ever consider for their daughter, and one whom everyone knew to be a sadistic brute. In such barbaric unions exercising one’s conjugal rites is nothing less than rape! Your uncle wrote a pamphlet on the subject. He narrowly escaped an action for defamation.”

  “Defamation?”

  “Yes. He had the bravery, some would say stupidity, to name Jamison-Lewis as the prime example for his argument. Of course no one would back him—”

  “You need not have told me that, Olivia. Uncle Plant—”

  “No, not your uncle, my boy. J-L. Not one of his friends would support him and no lawyer would touch the case, so the matter was dropped. Of course no one would say this publicly, but privately we were all pleased as punch J-L got his come-uppance.” She stood before him and waited until he met her eye. “It is the strangest of coincidences but it was less than month after the publication of that pamphlet that J-L was found dead with a bullet through his brain.”

  The Earl of Delvin turned his back on the upper story window.

  “You see what I am up against, madam?”

  Lady Charlotte stayed a little longer at the window, back very straight and hands clasped tightly in front of her. Delvin did not need to see her face to read the disapproval in her voice. “I have always found Mr. Halsey’s personality most volatile. He is hardly fit company for a well-bred girl of impressionable years. Mamma, of course, never listens to my entreaties.”

  “I dearly wish she would, my lady. Your counsel is something I value greatly. You are a woman of sense and infinite wisdom. Macara and your children are fortunate beyond price.”

  Lady Charlotte permitted herself to smile slightly. Again her attention returned to the Rose Garden two floors below. Her mother and Alec Halsey were walking arm in arm down one of the many paths; the Duchess stopped to correct a leaning wooden stake and he helped her, then kissed her mother’s hand and she touched his cheek and they continued on with their walk and out of her line of sight. “Impudence! Damn impudence!” she breathed, her bosom rising with indignation. She came away from the view, fingers tensely intertwined. “You’re absolutely right about everything you’ve told me. I see it all now. You’ve opened my eyes to things—to things, unpleasant as they are, which must be faced.”

  “You are very noble.”

  “Nothing of the sort. It’s a question of knowing how to conduct oneself; of knowing what is important in life. There are particular rules that must be followed if life is to be at all tolerable. I have tried to instill these values in my children, so that when it comes time for them to enter society they will do so with a minimum of fuss and in unexceptional circumstances. Far be it for any person to cast a questioning eye on a daughter of mine.” She seemed to collect herself and hastily smiled. “Not that Emily is in any way to blame. She is a lovely girl. She will make a fine Countess of Delvin with just a little prompting in the right direction. She is still young enough to be molded to your will. Once she is married and taken to your country seat, away from all influence, you will see just how compliant she can be. If you want my advice, get her pregnant as soon as possible. A child will give her mind and body occupation.”

  Delvin took snuff. “Ah, madam, if only I could be certain…” He shut his gold box with a snap. “Yet, now I am tortured by doubts. You, I know, understand how it is for a gentleman of birth and property. Think how it was for Macara. When he chose you over all others there was never any doubt in his mind as to your suitability to share his life and his—er—bed; to be mother to his children. To his children, my lady.”

  “The very idea is laughable—”

  “Then again, my lady, Macara is not cursed with having Alec Halsey for a brother, is he?”

  Lady Charlotte sat down on a spindle-legged chair. “You believe it was he who forced himself on Emily?”

  “Can you think of an alternative, madam? I have tried and failed.”

  “And the maid? Did she fall down the stairs?”

  Lord Delvin made an expansive gesture. “So I am told by her Grace.”

  Lady Charlotte shuddered. “Jenny’s death was a shame. It would be unChristian of me not to say so. Perhaps now Mamma will employ a more suitable companion for Emily. Jenny was apt to daydream and she was not a good influence.” She sighed. “I still can’t believe the poor child was set upon. He is an animal. She was always very forward with him which may have led him to believe…I blame Mamma entirely for encouraging his visits,” she said with a sigh, voicing her thoughts. “God knows why. Secretly I think she is infatuated with her godson; Mamma always had a soft spot for a handsome rake.” She smiled thinly at the Earl. “Of course Mamma supervised Emily’s upbringing in the strictest manner. I beg you not to think her in her mother’s image. Her mother, as you are aware, disgraced herself beyond forgiveness. Emily is the product of that disgrace. But she is not a distillation of it.”

  “I have every faith in Emily, otherwise I would not have chosen her to be my wife.” He returned her thin smile. “My choice, you realize, has not been without its critics. I am well aware I am marrying far beneath me. But tell me what noble family can boast an unpolluted bloodline? I am not adverse to adding a little water to the wine, but I want that water without taint. It must be pure, unquestionably so. I want to be able to drink it with a free and easy mind. In short, madam: I don’t want to discover it has been sullied with another man’s spittle.”

  Lady Charlotte grimaced at his choice of analogy but she agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. His bluntness could be forgiven. He was coarse because he was angry and he had every right to that anger. “My lord Delvin, I am all in sympathy with you, as you know. Yet, surely, when you spoke to Mamma this morning she intimated…?”

  Delvin p
retended not to understand. “Intimated, madam?”

  “About Emily’s wellbeing,” she answered brusquely, annoyed with herself for not being able to speak frankly. “She spent the night with Mamma. After such a brutal attack I would assume Mamma asked her certain particulars regarding the incident.”

  “If she did, she did not confide them in me.”

  “I thought… Surely she gave you her assurance that Emily was—untouched?”

  Delvin looked at the gold signet ring on his left hand. “She did not, madam.”

  “Why not?”

  “How can I answer you?” he said with a sigh. “It leads one to speculate, does it not?”

  “But you have a right to know!” said Lady Charlotte in exasperation. “Obviously she is not thinking clearly. She has a bad heart. She needs rest. This business has been most distressing for her. What with the silly maid breaking her neck and the attack on Emily. The strain on her must be intolerable.”

  “That is why I came to you, madam. My greatest wish is to leave her Grace in peace. As you say, she is under a great deal of strain and I do not want to burden her further.” He smiled self-consciously. “I am confident that if we put our heads together a simple and relatively painless solution to my dilemma will present itself. Her Grace need never be bothered. As her eldest daughter do you not possess a considerable influence in this household? I await your counsel, my lady.” He went to the window and gazed out, back to Lady Charlotte.

  Lady Charlotte’s mind was decided before Delvin reached the window. There was no argument. The Earl was entitled to know the truth. Yet, what if Emily had been raped? Would he still want her, and what if he did not? What a disaster for her marriage prospects! Such an offer was unlikely to come her way again given her bastard blood and the fact the Earl had called off the marriage. Questions would be asked, and almost certainly the truth would come out. And what a disaster for the St. Neots family! She doubted her mother could live through another such scandal. And she, Lady Charlotte, how could she ever hold up her head in society again? She couldn’t bear it if all the old wounds were opened, as she knew they would be, Emily being the natural daughter of the infamous and exiled Duchess of Beauly.