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

by Lucinda Brant

In his astonishment Sir Cosmo forgot all about the lump to the back of his head. “Good God—that boy who’s your valet is Delvin’s—is Delvin’s natural son?”

  “I believe that’s what this letter proves. Yes,” said Alec and slipped the paper into a pocket. “It is my belief that Jack risked and lost his life because of these two letters. He was smart enough to have only the first pages of both, the other pages secreted somewhere for safe keeping. Jack threatened to expose Delvin, not about his questionable birthright, but because of his neglect of an illegitimate son working as a poor apprentice one floor below a notorious male brothel.”

  When those in earshot had recovered from their surprise and shock Sir Cosmo said loudly, “And the other letter? What does it prove, Alec?”

  “The first, much older letter, proves very little.”

  “Only that there has been a serious miscarriage of justice,” said the Duchess, “and that you are indeed your mother’s—”

  “No, Olivia!” Alec pleaded. “Say no more!”

  “Pray continue, Mamma!” demanded Lady Charlotte and had the satisfaction of seeing every powdered and plumed head in the room nod in agreement.

  But the Duchess demurred under Alec’s steady gaze. It was left to Sir Cosmo to be resolute and he stepped into the center of the Chinese drawing room so that all who had been straining to catch snatches of the conversation taking place at the doorway could hear, and before Alec could stop him he declared, “Alec Halsey is the Countess of Delvin’s firstborn and as such is the rightful earl. No doubt you were expecting a wholly different outcome, my lady?”

  Lady Charlotte stared wildly about the room at the shocked expressions on most of the faces, daring someone to contradict Sir Cosmo, but no one said a word. An hysterical laugh that was half sob broke from her as she faced the doorway. “Well, my dear,” she said bitterly, “that should make you vastly pleased! Did you know? No wonder you tried to scorn one brother to prostitute yourself to the other! I’d not have given you the credit for so much brain. But you ultimately failed in your quest for this brother has given you up in preference for the riper charms of a widow.”

  This venomous outburst was directed at Emily who stood just inside the room in her slippered feet. But if Emily had heard her aunt’s venomous outburst she did not acknowledge it for she looked at Alec with a glazed expression.

  “Something horrid has happened,” she managed to say with a dry swallow. “Something so shocking…Will you go and see?”

  “Of course,” Alec agreed, and prompted her when she fell silent. “Just tell me where it is you wish me to go.”

  She nodded as if he understood exactly what she was talking about. “The Billiard room. It happened in the Billiard room. I heard voices, loud voices. Shouting. I thought it was those rascal boys playing truant and carelessly knocking the balls about. But then there was a loud noise, like something heavy being dropped on the floorboards. And then Mrs. Jam—and then Selina rushed out into the passageway and screamed at me to get help. So here I am, and I haven’t the slightest idea what’s going on, except that it’s all very upsetting!” She heaved a shuddering breath and covered her face with her hands. “I wish I hadn’t seen the blood! Blood all over the front of her lovely dove gray gown…” She stared at Alec and then looked at her grandmother through tears. “It’s Edward. He’s dead. She-she shot him.”

  The body of the fifth Earl of Delvin lay sprawled face-up across the billiard table. The head was thrown back and one eye stared vacantly at the ornate plaster ceiling. The powdered wig that had framed the pale handsome face in life was oddly askew, revealing a head of very close-cropped blond hair and a shattered skull that exposed what was left of the badly damaged brain within. The left side of the face was completely gone. What remained of familiar facial features had disappeared under a thick blanket of glistening blood. Cravat, waistcoat and frock, all were blood splattered. So too was the green baize felt of the table, the spreading pool of blood from under the damaged head creeping towards a leather bound ledger that lay open near the middle pocket.

  Alec took it all in with one look and quickly turned about to demand a footman’s frockcoat. He hastily threw this over his brother’s shoulders and head as Plantagenet Halsey and Sir Cosmo came across the room toward the billiard table. Nothing, however, could hide the violence of the scene presented them.

  Sir Cosmo took one look at the partially covered body and the great pool of blood with its flecks of brain and bone and he stumbled out of the room as quickly as his shaking legs would carry him, a handkerchief pressed tightly to his mouth. The old man looked unblinkingly at the billiard table but his consciousness did not register what his eyes were telling him to see. In a daze he watched Sir Cosmo flee the room and then turned to Alec as if requiring some sort of explanation from him. His nephew quietly and very firmly ushered him from the room and closed the door. The butler came towards them with a look of polite inquiry, an under-footman behind him.

  “Neave, there’s been an unpleasant accident,” said Alec.

  “An unpleasant accident,” repeated the butler, hooded gaze flickering to the door.

  “See that this door is kept locked. I suggest you put two footmen in attendance. And Neave, no one is to go in there under any circumstances.”

  “Yes, sir. Shall I send for Oakes?’

  Alec sighed. His hands were shaking. “Yes, I suppose we must. Thank you, Neave.”

  The butler cleared his throat. “Sir. Henry said he heard a shot but—”

  “That’s right,” said Alec curtly, suppressing the butler’s curiosity. “I’m looking for Mrs. Jamison-Lewis,” he continued, trying to keep the panic from his voice. “Have you seen her recently?”

  “I believe Mrs. Jamison-Lewis was last seen in the company of Lord Gervais, sir.”

  “And do you know where they were headed?”

  The butler glanced at the old man and then back at Alec and cleared his throat, “The servant stairs behind the Billiard room go all the way to the roof, sir.”

  “Thank you. Give Mr. Halsey a good brandy!” Alec called out as he dashed back into the Billiard room and slammed the door.

  The butler bowed to the closed door. Never did Neave want to relive such a bloody weekend as this. He went to fetch the Duchess’s best French brandy.

  By the time he had climbed all the stairs to the rooftop Alec was out of breath and feeling every bruise and cut to his body. He doubled over with stomach cramp and tried to draw breath into his lungs as he forced himself to remain calm and in control. It wouldn’t do to go to pieces now; not with Selina in mortal danger. Vivid pictures of horror inflicted by the monster who now had Selina in his power flashed through Alec’s tired mind: his brother’s body limp on the billiard table with his head blown off; Jenny with her neck broken; Simon, a great gaping hole in his side; sweet innocent Emily, near raped in her own home. Selina and he were so close to achieving the perfect beginning to a wretched six years spent apart that it didn’t do to dwell on the pain and suffering the respectable judge had caused others. Why had Selina taken matters into her own hands? She should have waited. She should have waited for him. Damn her interference!

  There was no need to wrench open the heavy door that kept out the winds that swept across the rooftop. The door was banging wide on its hinges. The cold blast of air carrying a touch of icy rain hit Alec in the face and almost sent him backwards down the dark stairwell. He pressed on and emerged on a narrow walkway with its stone parapet that ran the length of this side of the house and was stopped from turning a corner by the lead flashing of the roof meeting up against a stack of four chimneys. So there was nowhere to run, for either of them.

  Knowing this did not stop him from running along the rampart as fast as he could without slipping on the smooth lead covered boards made slick from the constant drizzle. He kept himself upright with one hand pressed up against the wall and the other on the stone parapet. Half way along he saw them, Gervais with a hand hard gripped aroun
d Selina’s arm and tugging her along as if they had somewhere to go. Alec pulled himself up short to crouch undetected, close enough to overhear their conversation and hopefully make a grab for Selina when the time was right. The only heartening news was that Selina was on his side of the walk. Everything else spelled disaster.

  “This is a mistake!” Selina shouted through the drizzle.

  “Your mistake, Madam, was getting yourself involved!” Lord Gervais growled as he continued to drag her along the rampart.

  Selina tried to pull free. “Do you think this is wise? Coming up here where there is no place to run? Wouldn’t it be best to make for the coast? To take a chance on getting across to France?”

  Lord Gervais stopped at that. “I? A well-respected judge, run? Do you take me for a coward, Madam?”

  Selina stared up into his large watery eyes and the rivulets of rain that ran either side of his large pointed nose and shivered. The cold rain had nothing to do with it. “No. I take you for a heartless murderer, sir!”

  He laughed as if she had told him a good joke. “Yes. Yes I am.”

  “What did that poor maid do to deserve—”

  Gervais shook his head emphatically. “No! No! I’m no killer of females, Madam! Wouldn’t hurt a hair on a pretty girl’s head.”

  Selina dared to huff her disbelief. “No? Do you regard rape as mere sport, sir?”

  At that Gervais laughed in her face. “Delvin didn’t deserve a virgin bride! He turned Cindy into a whore! A judge’s wife, my dearest Cynthia, on her knees for a penniless fraud! Outrageous!”

  Despite her predicament, curiosity overcame Selina’s fear. “Penniless? Delvin? But…”

  “Delvin lived off handouts from your husband, Madam. Now come along! It’s time you and I were leaving this place!”

  “To where?”

  He took a tentative look over the parapet. “Down there. You and I.”

  “Down?” And then Selina knew and all the fear returned and threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to scream. She shook her head. She told herself to be calm. “What purpose will that serve, taking me with you?”

  “We’ll die as lovers do. That’s what they’ll think. That’s what will be written up.”

  “Lovers!?” Selina was sickened and it sounded in her voice.

  “Yes. It’s all arranged. I’ve left a letter. Here in my frockcoat pocket. It explains everything. Your husband’s disgusting perversions, the male brothel, his beatings, the blackmail. How I turned a blind eye to his tastes and his Club until it was all too much for me and I closed the place down on your pleading. How I was racked with guilt but felt compelled through my love for you to do as Delvin bid me until—”

  “You’re a repulsive hypocrite! You condemn Delvin but you also took a monthly payment from J-L! You, a respected judge, an upholder of laws turned a blind eye to what was going on at that male brothel and would’ve remained as one blind was it not for others to condemn it!”

  “Enough! I’ve heard enough, Madam! It is time you were joining me in Hell!”

  “The Ganymede ledger!” Selina blurted out. “The Ganymede ledger will prove you wrong!”

  With one foot upon the parapet Lord Gervais paused, frowning. “Ledger? Delvin stole your ledgers, Madam, but it was I who burned them in the grate.”

  “He stole my household ledgers and you burned them, you fool! There was a third, one my husband kept specifically for the Ganymede Club. It has your name written up in the columns for all the world to see.”

  The judge was incredulous. “Then Delvin—that slim volume he held up in the Billiard room—he wasn’t bluffing?”

  “No. For once in his life, Delvin was telling the truth.”

  Gervais was so taken aback that for a single moment his grip on Selina’s arm slackened. It was enough. Selina broke free and turned tail and fled back along the rampart with her heavy damask petticoats pulled up high over her ankles

  “You’re bluffing!” Gervais yelled through the rain as he went after her. “So was Delvin! There’s no such ledger! Your husband wouldn’t have dared put ink to paper. Too damning. Come back here!” he bellowed and lunged for her petticoats but what he felt was a hard knock under his chin which sent him staggering backwards.

  Alec had shot up as Selina reached him just a few feet from where she had been held captive and in one swift maneuver he pushed her behind him and stepped forward with fists clenched ready to do battle with the judge. Selina fell forward onto her knees and scrambled up in time to witness Gervais’ retaliatory strike at Alec’s head. But Alec was the quicker and he ducked sending his opponent’s strike wildly through the air past his left ear so that Gervais spun about almost full circle and was totally disorientated in the rain. He groped for the parapet and righted himself, an arm outstretched to the wall and unsure who or what had hit out at him.

  “It’s over! Give up and come quietly!” Alec yelled, wiping rain from his eyes with the back of an arm. “For the sake of your soul, don’t go through with this cowardly act!”

  Selina stood behind Alec, arms about his waist, feeling the warmth of him and knowing then that she was truly safe. She blinked rain from her long lashes and peered through the drizzle at the shadowy figure of the judge just feet away and swaying from foot to foot as if in indecision. She wondered what he meant to do and subconsciously held her breath; only the dull rapid beat of Alec’s heart seemed real to her.

  Alec took a small step forward, hand outstretched to the judge. And then it was over. In one quick effortless movement Lord Gervais hoisted himself up over the stone parapet and was gone, into the rain and to his death on the graveled drive below.

  St. Neots House was shut up. The furniture was put in covers. Only a small staff of servants remained to see to its upkeep. The rest were sent to the Duchess’s country estate in Bedfordshire. The stables were empty of horses and equipage. Two huge travel coaches stood in the circular drive, loaded down with portmanteaux, trunks, and pieces of furniture the Duchess declared she could not live without. The drivers awaited their occupants to be off.

  The travelers were standing in the hall seeing to last minute details. Alec found them there, with the Duchess issuing instructions to her gardener for the upkeep of her precious flowers and shrubs while she was absent. He had not been back to the house since his return to St. James’s Place three weeks earlier. Legal matters to do with his brother’s death, the estates and financial affairs had kept him so busy that each day merged into the next, leaving him little time to himself. When he had received the Duchess’s note informing him she was quitting St. Neots House he had given it little attention, thinking she meant to go into Bedfordshire for a few months of well-earned and necessary seclusion. It was Selina’s letter, hand-delivered only the day before, which brought him out of his preoccupation and sent him galloping across country to see her.

  She was sitting on a sofa waiting on the Duchess and Emily, Evans beside her, fussing over the fall of her mistress’s unruly curls. The older woman saw Alec first and decided she needed a breath of fresh air before being shut up in a coach for hours on end. Before Alec could go to Selina the Duchess appeared from the back of the hallway and intercepted him, giving him her cheek to kiss.

  “You look worn out,” she said with concern.

  “It comes from many hours closeted with lawyers I have no desire to see.”

  “How are…things?”

  Alec sighed. “In a mess. It will take months to sort it all out. I just hope I don’t die of boredom in the mean time. I expect my visit to Delvin to be no better.”

  “As bad as all that?”

  “Yes. I am informed the weeds are only five feet tall on the south lawn, and that with extensive repair work three of the chimneys can be saved from demolition. As to the state of the tenant farms, I’ll have to do the rounds before I know the worst.”

  “You poor boy! You’ll have your hands full for months.” She glanced at Selina. “Perhaps that is just as well,” she mur
mured and smiled brightly at Alec. “Emily’s taking one last look at the garden. I’ll just fetch her.” And left Alec alone with Selina in the vastness of the marbled hall.

  “Olivia’s right,” Selina said finally, breaking the silence and bravely meeting Alec’s steady gaze. “You’ll be so preoccupied sorting out Delvin’s mess that you won’t have time to—the time to—”

  “That doesn’t make your going away any easier,” he said quietly, taking her hand when she stood. “Must you go?”

  “The time apart will do us good. You have so much to do as the new earl, and my mourning must run its course if we are to be married, as Olivia keeps insisting, above reproach and with society’s blessing.” She forced herself to smile. “I’ve never been to Paris. Talgarth is meeting us there. Won’t that be a treat for me?”

  “If it were only Paris…”

  She looked up into his blue eyes then and wished she hadn’t. “I can’t be with you—yet. So I can’t stay in London. And we agreed not to announce our betrothal until my return. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “I want to say yes because I’m selfish. I don’t want to be left here without you. But I understand why we must wait.”

  Selina bit her lip and controlled the urge to throw herself in his arms. She must be strong for both their sakes. “I won’t be gone above nine months. Nine months will go so quickly. You’ll be far too busy to think about me! Which is as it should be.”

  He smiled and raised her hand to his lips. “You have a very poor opinion of my constancy, my darling.”

  Selina turned her head away. “I didn’t mean…”

  “Forgive me,” he said gently, knowing she was on the verge of tears. “I’m being a selfish bore. Nine months will pass soon enough.”

  Selina nodded, feeling suddenly depressed. She wanted him to stop her from going. She wanted him to be angry with her for leaving him. Somehow that would make their parting so much easier. But he wouldn’t get angry; he wasn’t like that. And she loved him too well to remain in London and be his mistress. That’s what would happen if she stayed. And that wouldn’t be good for him or her, not if society found out. Not with the suspicious death of his brother still on everyone’s lips. She tried to smile. “I’ll write.”