“You’ve just admitted you have secrets that could send you to the gallows, and that now we have those secrets, there’s nothing for you to fight for. What about the little honor you have left? Would you simply snuff out the life of a young woman on the cusp of everything ahead of her because you can, and you want vengeance? Put her aside and fight me, man to man. You have the knife, and I have nothing. I’m prepared to take you on at such a disadvantage if you just let Miss Bijou go.”
To Silverton’s surprise, Debenham laughed as he pushed Kitty aside, in the same moment as he lunged for Silverton. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” he muttered. “False friend, you are, Silverton. I don’t believe false friends deserve to live.” The knife sliced through the air by the side of Silverton’s ear and he ducked, immediately feeling the sting.
“Silverton!” Kitty cried, foolishly entering the fray before Silverton pushed her away at the same time as a trickle of blood obscured the vision in his right eye.
“That didn’t take long!” Debenham crowed. “I have the advantage, don’t you see? You want to both die? I can arrange that. It would be my pleasure!” There was shrill satisfaction in his laughter as he leaped with surprising agility in a man so tall toward Silverton, slicing the knife once more at throat level. Silverton jumped aside in time, only to see Debenham thrust and parry then lunge toward Kitty. He seemed fueled by blood lust, and Silverton realized he really did want to do Kitty the gravest ill. It hadn’t been empty talk or a means of simply bringing Silverton to the bargaining table. He would kill Kitty if he could.
The imperative now was to draw him away from her. Kitty didn’t deserve any of this. If Silverton hadn’t been so fixated on behaving as society demanded, she’d be flourishing as she deserved.
“It’s me you want. You’d kill a defenseless girl?” he taunted, drawing Debenham to the window. Silverton settled himself on the deep window ledge; the drop below to the river long and fatal. But if he could only entice Debenham closer, he might succeed.
Debenham’s face broke into a parody of a smile as he paused a moment, assessing his target. Silverton could see the workings of his mind as Debenham prepared to launch himself forward. So this was it. Debenham had made his choice—that he would not be taken alive, but that he’d take Silverton with him. Silverton had made himself a target, to be bowled over by the momentum of Silverton’s rush toward the ultimate freedom—death by waterwheel.
Kitty’s shrill cry and Debenham’s bloodcurdling scream of vengeance were, he imagined, the last sounds he would hear before oblivion. He was conscious of the blur of rage and hatred on Debenham’s face as the man barreled forward; of the heavy body blow that dislodged Silverton from his position—the two of them locked in combat at that great height. The resounding cry of defeat that echoed in the silence. And then Silverton was clinging to the harsh stone, his hands struggling to find purchase while his feet scrabbled in the stone, mercifully finding a chink in the sheer surface of the wall. Incredibly, he was alive, and there was Kitty’s face, beautiful and terrified, staring down at him.
And if this were the last vision he ever had, he believed he would be a happy man.
But it was not. Kitty’s screams had alerted the miller who now appeared, and whose meaty grasp was what saved Silverton, though without Kitty, he’d never enjoyed the cathartic sense of knowing finally what he was prepared to compromise and what he was not.
Chapter 27
Araminta knew she looked fetching in black. Of course, having to wear it for a full year was going to be tedious, but there would be compensations.
Teddy, for one. She was almost rather glad she was breeding for, it meant she need not worry about inconveniently producing a child at the wrong time. There’d been no risk when Teddy had come to console her the night before when all hell had broken loose about Debenham’s death at the flour mill.
What a shock that had been, but what a fool her husband had been. A fool to have been so incautious as to have been caught, most of all.
As Teddy had held her in his arms and made tender, careful love to her, Araminta had wanted to scream and scratch and give herself up to her joyful enthusiasm. It just hadn’t been quite the right time to show such abandon, she felt.
There was one major niggling concern, however, and that was that she had no idea if Debenham could be tried in absentia. His body had not been recovered—which was hardly surprising in view of the plan they’d concocted—but she’d heard vague stories about seven years having to elapse before he’d be considered officially dead.
So where did that put Araminta?
She’d poured out her fears to Teddy, who hadn’t been much help except that he’d sworn he’d love and protect her for all that time, if necessary.
Well, that was very comforting and helpful, but it wasn’t enough. Araminta needed iron-clad guarantees. She needed to know her husband’s estate would not be confiscated, that William would carry his title, and that Araminta would be free to remarry when her year of mourning was over. She needed to know that Debenham’s dirty little secrets wouldn’t be aired for all the world to snigger over, and that she would be just as well-regarded in society’s loving embrace as she had before Debenham’s death.
And if securing all those guarantees required just a little more planning, then so be it. Araminta didn’t have time to waste while the wheels of the law slowly turned up answers in drip-like fashion.
Which was why, the very day following her husband’s tragic demise, she appeared in the most becoming widow’s weeds she could find, to present herself to Lord Silverton and Messrs. Cranborne and Tunley. Oh, she was very clever in having gathered together these three unlikely men in the one place.
Solemnly, they all offered their condolences upon her recent loss, before inviting her to sit at the large oval table in Lord Silverton’s palatial dining room. Araminta was surprised and quite envious to discover it was larger than her own dining room table.
“No doubt you are aware of why I am here,” she said in the low, respectful tones of one recently bereaved.
Lord Silverton and Mr. Cranborne muttered their assent but Mr. Tunley said with creased brow, “I own that I am in the dark, Lady Debenham, unless it is to petition us to minimize the extent of your husband’s list of ills, which will obviously soon become public.”
Araminta sighed. “When those become known, I hope I shall gain more public sympathy, rather than less. Surely, I have made it clear since my marriage that I was a less-than-willing participant in that holy union? Mr. Tunley, has your brother not told you how Lord Debenham tricked me into marriage, blackmailing me into attesting I visited him at his supper house, so he could avoid being incriminated for meeting with his two compatriots in a case that would attach him to certain misdemeanors of which I had no knowledge of that time? My husband was a wicked man, and neither our son nor I deserve to suffer for his crimes and bear the stain of his wickedness after his death. Especially when I was so unwilling to marry him in the first instance.”
There were murmurs of sympathy at this, but only the very forthright Mr. Tunley appeared to take any active role in the conversation, for he said with irritating officiousness, “You have my sympathies, Lady Debenham, but I do not see what we can do to alleviate your suffering. The law is the law.”
“And you have the evidence to support the fact that Debenham was involved in a litany of crimes. I know that,” she said crisply. “You have obviously seen the inventory of his misdemeanors which he so helpfully compiled for you before Miss Bijou stole the box which contained them.”
“And thus proved herself a heroine to this country,” countered Silverton.
Araminta bowed her head. “I am sure she is very deserving of your accolades. She inveigled herself into my husband’s affections. I wish I’d been able to do the same. I was, however, canny enough to keep myself apprised of his activities in order to protect myself, should I need to. And now the time has come when I am able to congratulate my
self on the fact I took such precautions. I do not know if you have surrendered the full contents of that box to the Home Office, gentlemen. You received it only yesterday morning, and the drama involving my husband took much of your attention through the following hours, so I suspect you might still be discussing what you will do with…every piece of information it contains. Such as the fact that you, Mr. Cranborne, are named as the father of Lady Julia’s son, who is touted to succeed his father due to the ill health of his remaining brother. In addition to that fact, there are also signed witness statements attesting to the fact you’ve taken advantage of the goodwill of my father, Lord Partington, to trade upon…the access it gives you to…” she paused delicately, “…my mother, Lady Partington.” Saying the words made the bile churn in her belly, but she retained the sweetness of her smile. She’d no more smear her mother’s name in the mud than her own—they were one and the same to an extent—but she had to show how much she knew and to make them very, very frightened.
“And you, Mr. Tunley; you are desirous of a match with my half-sister, Larissa. But how will a lowly governess be received in society? I might choose to blackball her, which I am quite in a position to do, given my well-known friendship with Countess de Lieven, one of Almack’s Lady Patronesses.” She paused for effect. “And you, Lord Silverton, have lost your heart to an actress. Yet you are compelled to marry a woman you do not love and one, in fact, who does not love you.”
Silverton’s choked response was just what she was after. “You had not guessed? Why, Miss Mandelton was pouring out her heart to me only the other day saying that honor must dictate her actions. She is so very attached to your mother, who dotes on her and who desires this union between the two of you, and while Miss Mandelton does not actively rail against marrying a man for whom she feels only the fondness a girl would feel for her brother, she told me she is prepared to sacrifice her happiness for the duty she feels toward your mother whom she esteems above all others.”
“Sacrifice her happiness to marry me?!” Silverton repeated. “Just to please my mother?”
Araminta smiled. “Yes, those were her very words, and I was impressed by her quiet dignity. She will make you an excellent wife, and I’m sure will be agreeable in all things, but is this what you really want in a wife—a pliant, dutiful creature reluctantly agreeing to marriage because she wants to please your mother? Of course, the vibrant Kitty La Bijou could only be an encumbrance. Certainly, it’s not without precedent that an actress has married into the hallowed echelons of the aristocracy. Common Emma Hamilton secured the hand of Lord Hamilton and was lucky to be accepted. She had created a stir and society was intrigued. I can imagine society would regard Miss Bijou as a heroine just as easily as they would shun her. We all know how very fickle are the arbiters of social acceptance. Goodness, to think that securing a voucher to Almacks can give that signal of social acceptance that can make one’s past simply disappear. Something I could very easily persuade the countess to arrange.”
There was a very long pause after this. They did not interrupt as they let her make her point. Yes, Araminta smiled at Lord Silverton, Mr. Tunley, and Mr. Cranborne and felt the power go to her head. “I suspect that only the three of you have thus far witnessed with your very eyes the blackmail threats and recordings my husband made of your various peccadilloes, Mr. Cranborne. I suspect you are very undecided as to what should be done with the incriminating material. Let me help you make your decision. Remove the evidence that incriminates you, Mr. Cranborne, and you remove the damage that would be done in the event of a potential or more probable leak. Your reputation and that of my mother, and also Lady Julia, will be removed. Where’s the harm? My husband is dead.”
She gave a little sob and dabbed at her eyes with the corner of a piece of fine linen. “He is where he would be had he faced the law which might have seen him at the end of a noose. I know how much you would like that evidence removed. I certainly shall say nothing of it. But I would ask only one thing in return. Remove the evidence that might see Lord Debenham convicted in absentia of those crimes which would see him attainted, and you have my pledge that I will use my considerable influence with the Countess de Lieven to ensure that Larissa Hazlett, my half-sister, will be acknowledged, both by her noble father, and by each one of the six esteemed Patronesses of Almacks.”
She sent Silverton a considered look. “I shall do the same for Kitty La Bijou. It was a shock to discover her true identity, and under different circumstances, I admit I would have done all in my power to have her blackballed for life and never ever accepted by society. She is beautiful and too great a threat, and the gossip could only be damaging to me. But I intend to turn the attention into something novel.
“I’m clever at turning a situation to advantage, and I will do so in the case of my two half-sisters, the women you, gentlemen, would marry if only you could be assured of their happiness, and yours, through the acceptance of society and the acceptance of your respective families. Leave the tactful negotiating to me. If you only remove those pieces of evidence that would otherwise see my husband forfeit his land and estates, then I will remain in a position of sufficient influence to do all this that I have pledged is within my power.”
Chapter 28
“No one could have made a more beautiful bride, Lady Silverton. I am so very happy for you.” Miss Mandelton’s pleasure was clearly genuine as she pressed Kitty’s hand and raked her bridal attire with glittering eyes.
Tears welled in Kitty’s own eyes and she blinked rapidly. “It could have been you,” she responded, stricken, and was almost cut off by the rejoinder.
“But I’m so glad it’s not! I’m so glad I realized before it was too late that Silverton didn’t love me. To be married to a man whose heart belonged to another would surely have been like living a slow death until I was put in my grave.”
Laughter and chatter echoed all around them, and a great joyfulness filled Kitty from her toes upward. “You cannot imagine how tormented I was when I met you, Miss Mandelton, and realized that you were to be married to Silverton.” There wasn’t much time for confidences with the church bells pealing, and guests waiting to congratulate the pair of them, but Kitty wanted to take her opportunity while she could. Silverton was a little to one side, beaming as the Duke of Albion pumped his hand in between casting furtive admiring glances in Kitty’s direction.
Kitty put her head closer to Miss Mandelton’s. “I relinquished any claim I might have had to Silverton as soon as I realized he’d made you an offer. I knew I could never marry him. I was not respectable enough.”
“But now you are. And you deserve to be marrying the man you love because you are the heroine of the country. You risked your life to bring a dangerous criminal to justice.”
“I’m sure you overstate it, Miss Mandelton,” Kitty said modestly.
“Indeed I do not! The news sheets and gossip sheets have no room to discuss anything else—and with good reason. The safety of our country is due to you, for was there no limit to the evils perpetrated by that traitor, Lord Debenham. First, he was cruelly responsible for blackmailing a poor innocent into becoming his wife over that incident at Vauxhall Gardens. Poor Lady Araminta—I believe she balks at using the name Debenham, synonymous as it has become with perfidy—didn’t know what else to do other than agree she’d been in Lord Debenham’s supper room when really he was plotting with two other villains. And as a result of her name being tarnished, she was forced to marry the man!”
Kitty blinked. Miss Mandelton obviously relished scandal more than Kitty would have supposed.
“Yes, marry the very man who would have murdered you as revenge for the fact that you were clever enough to discover the evidence that would convict him.”
Kitty thought it wise that Miss Mandelton didn’t go into too much detail over how Kitty had discovered this evidence.
Miss Mandelton suddenly became diffident. She lowered her voice and gripped Kitty’s hand. “I…hoped we could be
friends. I mean, that I could call on you when I’m in London, and that you’d call on me when Silverton and you repair to the country at the end of the season. I know his mother took a little while to come around to the idea that he wasn’t marrying me after all, but I’ve thoroughly persuaded her of the fact I would have been dreadfully unhappy married to someone I regarded more like a brother, and you with your publicly lauded gifts are in the position to advance not only his prospects, but his happiness so much more than I could ever have done.”
“Oh, Miss Mandelton.” Kitty squeezed her fingertips. “Nothing could make me happier. I would love that.”
“Kitty.”
It was her sister. The four of them were together today at Kitty and Lissa’s joint wedding, but Kitty recognized it as the voice of the sister who’d always been more like a mother to her. The sister she loved more than any other. The sister whom she’d sought to make proud. Lissa.
Smiling, she turned, and her heart swelled to see that Lissa’s normally serious expression was joyous. But then Lissa had done little else other than smile since Mr. Tunley had apparently proposed in the most heartfelt terms, on bended knee, with a family ring his romantically minded favorite aunt had bequeathed him for the purpose.
“Ralph wants to introduce you to Sir Edward,” she murmured, nodding her regrets at Miss Mandelton for taking Kitty away. “He’s been extolling your virtues, Kitty—and your bravery.” She pressed her lips together as she and Kitty stood facing each other, alone for the moment. “I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t give you the credit you deserved for forging ahead and doing what you believed in—both to advance your own happiness and then for what you saw as the common good.”
Lady Unveiled - The Cuckold's Conspiracy (Daughters of Sin Book 5) Page 25