Lady Unveiled - The Cuckold's Conspiracy (Daughters of Sin Book 5)

by Beverley Oakley

  Araminta did not react with the outrage Kitty had expected. After taking a deep breath, knocking back the brandy in one mouthful, she clasped her hands together and began calmly, “Debenham told me in idle conversation of a little matter he’d heard about…that he is, in fact, investigating something which, he believes, could be of financial benefit to him since he knows that to reveal the truth would ruin…someone’s reputation.”

  Kitty could see the sheen of sweat on her brow from her hiding place just a few feet away as Araminta went on, “Every hint he dropped suggested the person in question could be me. You’re in a position to discover what I need to know, Mr. Tunley. You shall be well rewarded if you can tell me exactly who my husband is investigating and what he knows.”

  Ralph betrayed no surprise, though Kitty was astonished that Araminta would be so forthcoming. Still, if she wanted Ralph’s help, Kitty supposed she’d need to tell him this, and more.

  Rising, Ralph began to pace. “You’ve given me very little go to on, Lady Debenham, other than that you believe your reputation is in danger. You’ve also said nothing to my earlier suggestion.”

  “What?! That I betray my husband on the promise of safeguards to ensure that I am not ruined in consequence?” Araminta looked perplexed. “Are you more than just my husband’s lowly secretary? This investigation…are you involved, personally? You’ve intimated as much, yet you live here? Why should I believe your grandiose claims?” She was gaining confidence as she spoke, as if a plan was slowly forming in her mind. Kitty could read the signs. Araminta had always been devious. Suddenly, she was afraid for Ralph.

  Yet Ralph just lounged by the fireplace, watching her with interest as she went on, “I could tell Debenham you’re plotting against him and he would do his worst.” She smiled. “But if you help me, I won’t.”

  “So you’re blackmailing me now, are you, Lady Debenham?”

  “Of course not! I’m just suggesting to you what you suggested to me earlier, but using different words.”

  “Don’t be puerile, Araminta,” Lissa bristled. “You are threatening Ralph if I ever heard it, yet Ralph is the only one who can help you, which is why you came here tonight.”

  Araminta looked outraged, then burst into tears. “Don’t be angry. I’m not blackmailing anyone. I’m just terrified of what Debenham will do to me—”

  “Do you mean, if he uncovers the truth about you, Araminta?” Lissa supplied. Her nose twitched as if she’d suddenly come in contact with something very unpleasant. “And what, exactly, might the truth be? Don’t be so disingenuous. If you want Ralph to help you, then he needs an assurance you won’t reveal him to Debenham.”

  “And yet, I don’t know how I can help you since you’ve given me no information whatsoever, Lady Debenham,” said Ralph.

  “Well, you are his trusted secretary. I hoped you could trick him into revealing his sources. He’s being so evasive saying only that ‘someone’ had said something. Perhaps you could find out who that someone is and what that something was?”

  “Ralph can only do that if he is still Debenham’s trusted secretary.”

  Araminta nodded at Lissa. “Of course, you have my word that I’ll say nothing to Debenham about any of this, including the fact Mr. Tunley could get that letter I want and that Debenham wants it even more, no doubt. If Mr. Tunley is prepared to act in my interests, I’m more than happy to act in his. And what I ask is quite simple. I just want him to quiz Debenham, find out what it is Debenham thinks he knows, and then report back to me.”

  Kitty wondered what terrible deed Araminta could be guilty of that she would go to such lengths. An affair, no doubt. The idea appalled her. Imagine making one’s sacred vows and entering marriage full of hope for the future only to indulge in a grubby and clandestine union with someone else.

  Then she remembered that’s why she’d rushed over to seek comfort from her elder sister—because she couldn’t bring herself to force Silverton into behaving so dishonorably toward Miss Mandelton that she’d given him up.

  Lissa leaned across the table. “How can Ralph know where to begin questioning Debenham if he has nothing to go on?”

  “So you will help me?” Araminta’s eyes widened as if she’d received the first piece of good news all night, ignoring Lissa’s question. “If I say nothing about Mr. Tunley to Debenham, then Mr. Tunley will help and protect me? He’ll get to the bottom of whatever scandal it is that Debenham’s investigating and then will report back to me immediately?” Nervously. Araminta nibbled at the tip of her glove and looked at each in turn. “You’ll say nothing of this to anyone else?”

  They all shook their heads.

  “So, Lady Debenham, what, exactly, did your husband say that has you so concerned?” Ralph spoke in such a comforting tone, and Kitty saw the way Araminta melted. Goodness, even Lissa’s expression softened when he spoke as if she were as besotted with Ralph as…well, Kitty was with Silverton.

  Araminta drew herself up, liking the attention, no doubt, now that it was directed with more sympathy toward her. “All right. Debenham likes to crow about his triumphs, and on the night of my birthday, he was obviously delighted at coming into some information which he believed he could use to his advantage. That’s the only time Debenham is really happy. Well, he told me that in casual conversation he’d been told of a case where, unless certain monies were paid, a man of great consequence would be informed that…”

  She’d started off with such assurance, but now she could not go on. Helpfully Kitty supplied, “His wife was unfaithful?”

  Araminta nodded. In a soft voice, she added, “It’s worse than that, though.”

  Kitty wondered what could be worse while they all waited in silence for her to go on.

  “And that the child he believed was his, was…not his own.”

  Kitty’s surprise was so profound she was glad she didn’t tumble out from behind the curtain.

  “But…how could this be of concern to you, Araminta?” Lissa asked. “I thought you were here because you were, well, terrified for yourself?”

  “Rumors are as damaging as the truth.” She raised herself proudly. “I just need to know the people involved that Debenham is so occupied with ruining. I’ve heard rumors that…that he could be trying to manufacture evidence against me.”

  This was said in such an odd manner, Kitty wondered whether Araminta had come upon the notion as she spoke. “And you, Mr. Tunley, are in as good a position as anyone to solicit that information in a manner that would be discreet enough as to not raise his suspicions. You see,” she added quickly, “I’m…very much afraid that the woman in question is a dear friend of mine. I fear Debenham has got it into his head to ruin my friend’s husband by insinuating that his wife has cuckolded him, or at least provided him with an heir who is not his.”

  “A friend of yours, Araminta?” Lissa asked.

  “So, I’m to ask your husband the name of the woman whose husband he’s blackmailing?” Ralph looked bemused. “And you came here in the dead of night to ask this of me?”

  “Because you were so concerned for your friend?” Lissa interjected. “It’s you, isn’t it, Araminta? You’d not be this concerned unless you were in Debenham’s firing line, and unless you had something to hide.” She sighed. “But then, you knew you’d have to divulge that to us before any investigation could actually begin, didn’t you?”

  Araminta shook her head. “It’s not me,” she declared. “I have nothing to hide. I gave Debenham a son nine months after we were married. Nine months after the night he tricked me into agreeing to his marriage offer by arranging that my reputation was besmirched at Miss Hoskings’s betrothal ball.” She gave them a challenging look. “Debenham blackened my name, forced me to marry him, and I’ve paid for it every day. If someone else is trying to blacken my name by suggesting to Debenham that his child is anyone else’s, then I need to know what I’m dealing with in order to defend myself. Given that you all know my husband’s character, and t
he vulnerable position I’m in, I’d assume you’d consider my concerns, and my request to you, perfectly reasonable.”

  She rose, Ralph poised to see her out as she pulled down her heavy veil.

  “My, my,” he murmured as he closed the door and Kitty emerged from behind her curtain. “Your sister has a heavy burden to bear if she’s so afraid of Debenham.”

  “Araminta doesn’t deserve pity,” Lissa bristled. “She’s grown up in indolence, cosseted and spoiled by our father—”

  “Hush, my love.” Gently Ralph put his finger to her lips. “Araminta did not, I think, enjoy all the benefits I think you assume. Regardless, since her marriage—a marriage, it appears she’d not have chosen willingly—she has been forever under the strain of trying to please an exacting master. I believe I am in a very good position to sympathize with poor Araminta. We both know exactly how exacting Lord Debenham can be.”

  Lissa sighed. “I think I’m in a particularly uncharitable mood tonight because we so rarely get an opportunity to be together, and Mrs. Nipkins will be here soon.” She put a restraining hand out toward Kitty, who rose at her words. “See, I have no tact. I’m so glad to see you, Kitty, and I want to comfort you, yet I’ve rebuffed and all but dismissed you. Forgive me.”

  She ran a weary hand across her forehead. “My charge, Lucinda, has been taxing my patience, but it’s Lady Julia who has me at my wits’ end. She detained me, all but in hysterics, as I was trying to leave to see Ralph, and poured out her woes over her children whom she says her husband has forbidden her to see. I can’t believe it of Sir Archie. He’s such a mild-mannered gentleman. I think it’s her excuse for remaining under Lord Beecham’s roof. She says she sees herself as a proxy mother-figure to Lucinda, and she is Lucinda’s godmother, but I know Lucinda despises her. Enough of that.” She waved her hand in the air. “Sit down, Kitty, and continue where you left off before Araminta so rudely interrupted you. It has been a strange night.”

  Kitty sat slowly, the thought that had been churning in her head from Araminta’s words taking shape.

  “Yes. Lady Debenham must also be at her wits’ end if she sought Ralph out…here.”

  “The least likely place she’d be recognized, I suppose,” said Ralph. “I doubt she’s ever ventured into any of these rookeries alone in her life before.”

  Lissa gave a humorless laugh. “She was happy enough to venture into a disreputable inn to try and elicit that letter from Lord Debenham’s valet, Jem, if you recall.”

  “And she nearly delivered her child early at Mrs. Mobbs’s lodgings after I took her there,” added Kitty. “Not that she’d want that to be made public.”

  “Good Lord!” Lissa, who was busying herself with the fire, looked over her shoulder. “What tall tale is this?”

  Ralph’s mouth dropped open.

  “Araminta was alone in her carriage on her way to visit her sister when the coachman stopped at her cries, just as I was issuing out of the theater. We took her to Mrs. Mobbs’s which was not far.”

  “Not to Debenham’s townhouse?”

  “She refused to be taken there.”

  Lissa looked scandalized. “She’d rather give birth to her husband’s heir in a rat and flea-infested hovel—”

  “You are referring to my choice of lodgings for the first little while I was in London,” Kitty reminded her with mild indignation. “Mrs. Mobbs mightn’t be the most fastidious of housekeepers, but she was good to me, and she was good to Araminta.”

  Lissa spoke again. “So all progressed well. Or rather, didn’t, since the babe was persuaded to wait.”

  Kitty frowned, recalling the infant’s mewling she was certain she’d heard. But then, the walls that separated Mrs. Mobbs’s dwelling from the one next door were paper thin, so it could have been any newborn. “I…suppose so. After all, Araminta didn’t give birth for another six weeks.”

  Lissa stood. “Well, the fact is that our half-sister is apparently in grave fear of being exposed for some terrible misdemeanor her husband believes she committed.” She put her hand on Ralph’s shoulder and smiled sweetly. “Ralph, I think you have no choice but to quiz Lord Debenham—and others—as far as you are able to, without incurring suspicion, to find out what the gossip is and which scion of the nobility is in danger of being exposed for cuckoldry.”

  Chapter 11

  “You look troubled, Stephen. Come, my love, and tell me while I rub your shoulders.”

  The sound of Sybil’s voice was enough to clear Stephen’s furrowed brow. Smiling, he turned to greet his beloved as she entered the potting shed. With his keen interest in horticulture—and insect life—the small dim room at the bottom of the kitchen garden offered a welcome refuge during the day for the couple to discuss the more intimate matters pertaining to daily life.

  Not that Stephen meant to concern Sybil with the troubling epistle he’d picked up from the silver salver the footman had offered him a little more than an hour before.

  “Ah, just what I need,” he murmured, sinking onto a footstool and resting his cheek against her hand as she gently eased the tension from his shoulders.

  “You have something on your mind, Stephen. Is it Humphrey?”

  He was glad she’d asked the question in such direct terms, enabling him to dispute this—in fact, dispute that there was a problem at all. Darling Sybil, so pure and trusting, had endured so much unhappiness at the hands of her cold and unloving husband, Stephen was not about to weigh her down with problems that would terrify her, but about which she could do nothing.

  Nor had Stephen any idea yet as to how he would go about responding to the demand for payment if he didn’t want to see the reputation besmirched of a certain lady with whom he’d been on intimate terms.

  The certain lady must refer to Sybil, of course, and the letter hinted at revealing the scandal of her apparent faithlessness with Stephen. Little matter that Lord Partington had sanctioned their union. Little matter that Lord Partington had been the first to stray, literally the day after their wedding night, abandoning his hapless betrothed, Miss Hazlett, at the altar to wed Sybil, only to return to his apparent true love, Miss Hazlett, before the ink had dried on his wedding vows.

  No, Humphrey, Lord Partington, would be unaffected by the scandal, as would Stephen, for as men, they were permitted to stray. The only person whose reputation would suffer was Sybil. Though perhaps that would be the impetus needed for her to run away with Stephen to the Continent, where they would be free to love each other as they were only permitted to do, here, in secret. Of course, she’d never do that to her children. Hetty and Araminta were safely married, but Celia was only a baby.

  A terrible thought struck him as Sybil gently nuzzled his ear. What if the blackmailer went further than to reveal Stephen’s affair with Sybil.

  As matters stood, Humphrey acknowledged their daughter, Celia, as his. But what if the writer of this extortion demand—for that was what it was—had knowledge of Celia’s true parentage? What if the scandal revealed the fact that Stephen, not Humphrey, was Celia’s real father?

  Celia was the principal reason Sybil refused to run away with him. She knew that to do so would be ruinous to the infant’s future. At least with Hetty and Araminta respectably married, there could be no harm to them.

  As much as Stephen adored Sybil, he knew she was right. He couldn’t succumb to his feelings if it made baby Celia ineligible for a portion of her father’s estate and, with her illegitimacy recognized, unable to contract any decent marriage.

  “Why, Stephen dearest, your cheek is awfully cold. How long have you been alone in this draughty room? Let me warm you.”

  Feeling her softly rounded body enfolding him in her loving embrace was cathartic. Sybil had been the first and only woman who’d shown him true love. His beautiful, feckless mother had gambled away the fortune she’d inherited from her father, and then that of her husband, leaving virtually nothing for Stephen.

  He gazed up at the mud-spattered window, half-c
overed with tentacles of ivy. The horrors of the Peninsula Campaign were like a long-distant memory of hunger, pain, cold, and privation. They had, however, fostered in Stephen a self-reliance which had stood him in good stead when he’d returned to England with little more than the clothes on his back.

  He’d hardly been able to believe his luck when Lord Partington had solicited him as his heir. Now he was a young man with expectations. He would inherit a grand estate, and for nearly two years had spent a great deal of time at The Grange. To all appearances, he and his benefactor enjoyed a convivial relationship, but the truth was that while they rubbed along well enough, Lord Partington was happy enough to leave Stephen to his own devices—or rather, his wife—while he indulged himself with his mistress of more than twenty years, Miss Hazlett.

  Far in the distance came the sound of thunder.

  “Is it Celia? You know her grizzling mood is brought on only by the fact she’s cutting teeth.” He heard the smile in Sybil’s voice. “You mustn’t worry that it’s an indication of her temperament.”

  “Lord preserve us that she should inherit Araminta’s temperament,” Stephen murmured, smiling as he held Sybil closer. “To think that I might have been leg-shackled to her.”

  “No, instead of my lovely young daughter, you chose her aging mother. Oh Stephen, and you still haven’t rued the day?”

  Stephen wished Sybil wouldn’t speak like this, even in jest. For him, it was Sybil’s warmth and loving heart that mattered most. He also thought her the most serene looking of any woman he’d ever come across. Indeed, in the two years since they’d been lovers, he believed time and age had only imbued her with greater loveliness. It was as if a light glowed from within her.

  “I’ll never rue the day, my love. Even when you are ninety years old, and I’m a spring chicken of seventy-five, my heart will forever be yours. But talking of Araminta, she seemed agitated when I last saw her. No longer smelling of April and May, it would seem?”