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

by Lucinda Brant

  “Yes, a lesser man would have.”

  Sir Cosmo groped for a reply, at the very least an apology but Alec’s accompanying smile made him feel foolish to think his friend would take offense. “What the devil is Ned’s problem?” he wondered aloud. “It’s not as if he’s got anything to be concerned about. He’s engaged to Emily, you’re not. She’s in love with him, not you. He’s the earl, you’re the acknowledged second son.”

  Alec came away from the window and repositioned the three billiard balls on the green baize. “What do you mean acknowledged second son?”

  Sir Cosmo put his chin in the folds of his stock. “I’m sure I need not repeat the whispers about your mother…”

  “Please, I beg you to elaborate.”

  “Tell you a truth, dear fellow, it’s quite laughable,” Sir Cosmo said in an off-handed manner to hide his embarrassment. He avoided his friend’s smoldering blue-eyed gaze by choosing another cue in readiness for a second game. “The whole episode is something out of the Middle Ages. No doubt you’ve had a chuckle over it.”

  “Over what?”

  “Oh, do come about, Alec!” Sir Cosmo scoffed. “You know damned well what I’m talking about. You’ve always played too close for your own good. I’m a friend, a sympathetic ear, not judge, jury, and executioner.”

  Alec chalked the tip of his cue. “I have nothing to say about Lady Delvin.”

  “Perhaps you don’t, but Jack’s mamma has had plenty to say. Lady Margaret says she has a letter written in your mother’s fist. Says it proves your birthright.”

  “You’ve seen this letter?”

  “No. Thing of it is, Selina says her aunt has misplaced it.”

  Alec huffed in disbelief.

  “But that don’t mean it don’t exist! Lady Margaret has the servants turning her townhouse upside down looking for it. And when it’s found she’s determined to see justice done!”

  “Cosmo. Lady Margaret must have dozens of letters written to her by Lady Delvin. But I doubt very much that amongst their number there exists a letter of confession. Even if the sordid rumors about my mother’s past are true, she would never write them down for posterity. To what purpose? Such a confession would certainly ruin my brother, and that could not be Lady Delvin’s object. She always supported his claim to the Earl’s title. Lady Margaret’s motive is simplistic. She wants her revenge on my brother for killing her son; that is understandable. But blind grief has clouded her judgment and given way to wishful thinking.”

  “What if Lady Margaret produces a letter written by Lady Delvin that substantiates the rumor? Wouldn’t you want to see justice done?”

  “Justice has nothing to do with it, Cosmo.” Alec stepped to the table to lead off the play, feelings of uneasiness making his tone harsh. “Tell me if you find plausible this well-worn fable: When Lady Delvin learned she was pregnant she hid this fact from the world because she was unsure who had fathered her child, her husband or her lover; a lover she had taken while the Earl was north visiting his estates. She intended to give birth in the seclusion of the country estate in Kent. However, the Earl returned unexpectedly. News had reached him of his wife’s adultery. He was not prepared to entertain the idea that in all probability he, and not the lover, had fathered the child before his departure. He was determined to be rid of his wife’s bastard. No sooner was the boy born than he was sent north to closed-mouthed tenant farmers on a remote estate in Northumberland.”

  “But that can’t be the end to the story,” Sir Cosmo said quietly.

  “The child remained with the tenant farmers for a twelvemonth, when the Earl’s brother tracked him down. The baby had not thrived, was puny and not expected to live. Yet the Uncle would not give up on the boy. He returned him to his parents in Kent. By this time Lady Delvin had given birth to a second son just months before and it was this second son whom the Earl had declared his first born.”

  “But the first son was born in wedlock and so, legally, was heir to the earldom,” Sir Cosmo argued, “whatever the Earl’s suspicions about the boy’s paternity. That is the law! Besides, what proof did he have that the first born was not his?”

  “Yes, that is the law, Cosmo, but the damage had been done. Lady Delvin had been unfaithful. That’s all the Earl required for him to reject her firstborn as his. The best the uncle could do for this outcast son was to ensure the boy was at least acknowledged by his parents. He threatened to expose the Earl’s gross deception if he did not. The Earl agreed on condition that the Countess’s second son be declared the firstborn and thus heir to the Earl’s title and lands. This satisfied the Earl’s brother who took the outcast son to live with him, the Earl refusing to have in his house a daily reminder of his wife’s infidelity. Publicly it was said the boy was consumptive and carrying the danger of contagion could infect his brother. Because there was only eleven months between the boys and they had been born in the seclusion of the country no one in society was the wiser.”

  Sir Cosmo stepped up to take his turn, devoid of all enthusiasm for a game he knew he could not win from here. “When did you discover the truth?”

  Alec returned to the window seat and poured himself another glass of wine. “When I was fifteen years old Uncle Plant explained that my father had disowned me because of my mother’s unfaithfulness. I hardly cared. My parents had never made the effort to know me. My uncle was all the family I’d ever had and ever needed.”

  “And—and Ned?”

  “The favored son? The Earl went to great pains to instill in him the pride and haughtiness of his class. My brother was brought up to believe he was the eldest son and that one day the earldom and all that he surveyed would be his. He had no reason to question or believe otherwise.”

  “And the Countess, did she make a confession before she died?”

  “The old Earl died unrepentant and never acknowledged his first born. In his eyes he had only one son and that son would succeed to the title, which Edward did with our mother’s blessing. Then, quite unexpectedly, Lady Delvin asked to see her estranged son. It was only at the prompting of Uncle Plant that I made the effort. After all, she was a stranger. By this time my mother was bedridden. Yet, I do not believe her mental faculties were at all diminished. She made a confession of sorts…”

  Alec drained his glass. Sir Cosmo dared not line up his cue. He was all rapt attention.

  “Even now, I still find it incredible that the Earl and Countess were able to carry off such a deception,” Alec continued. “No one would’ve been the wiser, certainly not I, had not Lady Delvin felt the need to make amends before she died. Naturally, Edward felt betrayed. He thought she’d gone mad. He sent two doctors to certify her insane. I went to see her every week… But I was abroad when she died. I regret that. She had no one else. No one except Uncle Plant, and near the end even he was too distraught to ride into Kent.”

  “If what your mother confessed is indeed the truth then—then there has been a hideous miscarriage of justice! Ned’s whole life has been a-a—lie.”

  Alec smiled. “My dear Cosmo, Lady Delvin was shrewd enough not to reveal the identity of my father. So I could very well be the product of my mother’s adulterous affair. Thus, despite our birth order, Edward could be the rightful heir to his father’s earldom and I? My use of the name of Halsey may be a grand presumption.”

  Sir Cosmo let out an involuntary cough that raised Alec’s eyebrows. “Well, that’s a moot point, dear fellow, if,” he explained awkwardly, “you are in fact your uncle’s son…?”

  Alec stared at his friend not at all surprised but made no comment. They were interrupted then by Neave who came into the Billiard room on a discreet knock. He had the key to the padlock and this he gave to Alec.

  “I’m going to take a look about Emily’s bedchamber,” Alec said to Sir Cosmo, opening the servant door. “Don’t feel you need come up. I shouldn’t be many minutes.”

  Sir Cosmo remained a moment longer, indecisive, watching Neave decant the left-over wi
ne from three glasses into one of the discarded bottles. It was only when the butler had scooped up the forgotten frockcoat and departed with this crumpled article over one arm while juggling two bottles and three empty wine glasses that Sir Cosmo came to a sense of his surroundings. He hurriedly set aside his cue and scrambled through the servant door, Neave hearing him shout for his friend to wait up as he closed over the door, making a mental note to take to task the lax servant who had failed to clean up the Billiard room earlier that morning.

  “What does it really matter if your uncle is your father?” Sir Cosmo argued, watching Alec remove the padlock and scrape back the bolt. “The Earl and your uncle are brothers, both Halseys. It’s all the same blood if you think about it. Lady Margaret’s been telling everyone you are the Earl’s firstborn. She says your mother confessed the truth to her in that letter that’s gone missing. Of course, even if she finds the letter it may not, in all likelihood, reveal the identity of your father.”

  Alec put on his gold-rimmed spectacles. “I would not put my money on it, Cosmo.”

  Sir Cosmo followed Alec into the servant stairwell, one step at a time as his friend occasionally stooped to peer at the worn unpolished steps.

  “Still, without that letter Ned has free reign to continue spreading an even uglier rumor about your paternity. It’s been doing the rounds since Lady Delvin’s death. Of course no one who knows you believes a word of Ned’s incredible claim so that’s why it’s never truly seen the light of day. Most believe he’s merely spouting drivel to have his revenge on your mother for making a confession at all.” Sir Cosmo peered down at Alec who was on his haunches. “May I know what it is you’re up to?”

  “The intruder may have dropped something on these stairs and as it is dark one must grope around a bit. So far all I’ve managed to do is stick my fingers with bits of broken glass! What drivel?”

  “Ah! That. Ned says the real reason the Countess disowned you was because her adultery wasn’t with your uncle but with his Mulatto valet.” When Alec righted himself but did not turn about Sir Cosmo added in a rush, “I know! I know! It’s absurd. But if the babe she carried belonged to her husband’s brother why would she need to give you up? The Earl’d never know the difference. No one would. But if in truth she and the Mulatto were lovers then it’s understandable she was half-crazy with worry. After all, there was every chance the babe would be colored. According to Ned, she tried all sorts of ways to quicken the babe before its time, but nothing worked and she was forced to carry the child to term in secrecy.” Sir Cosmo pulled a face and followed Alec up the remaining stairs to Emily’s bedchamber. “Of course it’s only reasonable she’d want to rid herself of such unnatural offspring. After all, it’s against nature; white and colored breeding. It don’t bear thinking about. Sorry I mentioned it. Ned’s a lunatic for even suggesting—”

  Alec threw open the servant door and stepped into the semi-darkened bedchamber. He faced his friend who had entered the room with a sheepish grin. “Uncle Plant’s major domo, Joseph, was a mulatto free-slave from Uncle’s plantations in the West Indies,” he stated calmly, his tone belying the suppressed anger in his angular face. “He left my uncle’s employment around the time I went up to Oxford, married the daughter of a Scot’s lawyer and moved to Edinburgh. He and my uncle are regular correspondents; Joseph’s most recent letter carrying the news of the birth of his second grandchild and the fact he has decided to retire as head of chambers. He is a decent man and it is ludicrous to think he and my mother had an affair!”

  “Of course! Ludicrous!” Sir Cosmo said with an uncertain smile. “As if the Countess of Delvin and a Negro were lovers!”

  Alec drew back the curtains so that the room was fully bathed in light. “I can well imagine Delvin spreading such utter tripe for it not only degrades Lady Delvin but Joseph Cale’s good character. I don’t pretend to understand my brother’s perverted mind; what I do know is that he detests me all the more because I don’t give a fig which one of us is the eldest son. I am content with my life as it is. He, however, could be living a lie and that gnaws away at him day and night. Thing is, Cosmo, I don’t want to be Earl of Delvin or of anything else.”

  Sir Cosmo could only gaze at him in wonderment, his back to the room; the fact that they now stood in Emily’s disordered bedchamber momentarily forgotten. “You really don’t, do you?” He shook his head. “But to a man of Ned’s disposition, Lady Delvin’s confession must burn him up. Miserable, I’d say. Got it all, yet what is it all worth if he doubts it is truly his? I feel for him. Don’t know what I’d do myself if I thought I was living a lie. Thank God I’m an only son. Still, it would be interesting to find this missing letter; to see your mamma’s confession written in ink.”

  “Cosmo,” said Alec, stepping past his friend to move into the room, “you may not want to stay…”

  Sir Cosmo turned about at that and his mouth dropped open. It felt as if his jaw had swung to the floor, so startled was he by the wanton chaos in this feminine bedchamber now starkly evident in the cruel light of day. On an expletive, he crossed to the narrow ebony curio cabinet by the four-poster bed, glass crunching underfoot. “I gave Emily this curio for her fifteenth birthday. Look at it now!” he said with angry incredulity, turning about to stare at the glass littering the carpet. “How dare that brute smash it up!”

  Alec crouched at the doors to the cabinet and gingerly touched a long sliver of glass. “The glass door has been smashed inwards.” He peered at the carpet. By the leg of the cabinet he found a rounded thickened piece of glass. “Looks like a water tumbler must’ve fallen off the cabinet and was ground underfoot. And a heavy foot at that… Reason for the glass on the stairs just now.” He stood up, a frown between his brows. “I’d say your curio cabinet was accidentally struck during a struggle…”

  Both men looked fleetingly at the tumble of bedclothes.

  Sir Cosmo replaced a porcelain figurine of a King Charles Spaniel in the damaged curio cabinet and tugged at the folds of his cravat as if for air. “Must you do that?” he pleaded as Alec lifted the mountain of down pillows away from the mahogany headboard.

  “Yes. As I said, you needn’t stay.”

  Sir Cosmo stuck out his bottom lip in embarrassment, turned his back on proceedings and stared out of the window, determined to give his mind another direction than dwell on what had happened in this room the night before. Looking out on the view he caught sight of a party of riders crossing the velvet lawns from the direction of the river to the stables; amongst their number was Lord and Lady Gervais, she flirting outrageously with Lord Andrew Macara while her hulk of a husband followed, hunched broodingly in the saddle.

  The continued silence at his back had Sir Cosmo looking over his shoulder and he was relieved to see that Alec had moved away from the bed and that the bedclothes and pillows had been neatly rearranged. Somehow this made it easier for him to leave the window and join his friend who was setting to rights a chair.

  “Find anything of interest?” he asked lightly, though his voice broke in the middle.

  Alec shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. I had hoped the bedclothes might reveal a scrap of lace or ribbon or an object fallen from the attacker’s pockets but—nothing. Damn it! It’s as if the man came up here cunningly devoid of frippery.”

  “You mean the monster wasn’t wearing lace at his wrists or a frockcoat?” He gulped. “That’s fiendishly premeditated, Alec.”

  Alec looked over the rims of his spectacles. “Or devilishly coincidental.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Just now in the Billiard room,” explained Alec. “You didn’t notice the empty bottles, the cues left lying about, the frockcoat in the corner?”

  “Of course. Neave just tidied the mess up and took the frockcoat and bottles with him. Damn lax of the servants to leave—”

  “Damn! No matter. I’m sure Neave will return the frockcoat to its rightful owner.”

  “Alec? You don’t think the owner of th
at frockcoat was the one who—” Sir Cosmo gripped the poster as if for support. “And just moments before he’d been playing at billiards as we had with his fellows when he got the urge to—That’s positively bestial!”

  “Cosmo, take your fingers away from the post.”

  Sir Cosmo did as he was told, wholly mystified.

  “Look here,” Alec said, inspecting the post through his spectacles. He pointed to a splinter in the wood just under where Sir Cosmo’s hand had gripped the post. He ran a long finger down the carving. “Do you see the hairs caught here? Long, black hairs. Emily has fair hair. How would hair get caught in such a place?”

  Sir Cosmo screwed up his eyes. He didn’t understand what he was looking at.

  Alec looked over his gold rims. “These few hairs must belong to Jenny. If I’m not very much mistaken this is where Jenny’s head hit the poster. Whether it was intentional or not… Although the bruising about her neck and jaw, like that of a handprint, to my mind suggests that she did not merely run into the poster but—Cosmo? Are you perfectly well?”

  Sir Cosmo’s face was ashen. He groped in a frockcoat pocket for his lace-bordered handkerchief. It fell to his feet and as he scrambled to pick it up he felt himself heave. With a muffled apology through the handkerchief pressed to his mouth he made a dash to the window.

  “It’s wrong!” Lady Sybilla complained, wringing her hands. She was hot and shaking. “I won’t have any part of this! I won’t, Charlotte! I won’t!”

  “Oh, be quiet! I’m not asking you to do anything. As if you could,” her sister said contemptuously. She wandered about the bedchamber. “This room will do nicely.”

  “What?” Lady Sybilla’s eyes widened as she followed her sister. She swallowed convulsively when Lady Charlotte stopped by the bed. “Not here! You can’t have my room. There must be a dozen empty bedchambers. There’s your room.”

  “Don’t be a complete simpleton. Macara’s room is next door. He could very easily barge in on us. He does that occasionally. And we can’t use one of the spares because they’re in dust sheets. What would Oliphant think if we showed him into a room shut up and musty and without benefit of your maid and—fresh flowers?” Lady Charlotte admired the large colorful bouquet and inhaled the heady scent. “What fool gave you these?”