I am nothing without her.
Icy fingers of fear played Cornelius’ spine. For whatever reason, Charles fancied himself in love with Amelia. He no doubt thought he couldn’t be an effective earl without her, and if he knew of her plans to leave Trenton Hall...
Fear coiled in his gut. If Charles went through with the nuptial ceremony, Amelia would be lost to him forever. Yet, if she wanted her cousin in that way, he’d have to stand aside. Walking away from her this time would most likely kill him where her cousin had failed.
Then he straightened his spine. Not without a fight, damn it. “Edward, I need you to search the earl’s rooms for my laudanum bottle. If you can’t find it, track down his valet and encourage him to locate it. Barring that, if any of the servants have suddenly become close to him or enamored with him, ferret them out as well. Someone knows something, and I am in no mood for excuses.”
“Right away.” Edward darted to the open doorway, then he paused. “Once we solve this, will you put in a good word for me at the Home Office? Perhaps I can follow in your footsteps.” He offered a tentative smile. “I think I’m ready to do something with my life.”
“Oh? You aren’t chasing after the young ladies here?”
A tinge of red graced his son’s face and neck. “There might be some flirting, but that doesn’t signify a lifetime commitment. At least, not yet.”
“Good.” Cornelius returned the smile. Suddenly, there was a spark of hope in the current darkness. “We’ll go together after Twelfth Night.” Once his son departed, he yanked on the bell pull again.
Time was of the essence.
Fifteen minutes later saw Cornelius entering the drawing room. Festooned with holiday bows of red satin and velvet, as well as evergreen boughs, the room would have conjured images of laughter and romance on any other day.
As it was, the scene exuded a bizarre mix of desperation and confusion. Houseguests stood in small groups; some occupied chairs set up in rows. A clergyman in white robes with a red and gold mantle waited near Charles. Amelia, clad in red satin, had paused in the middle of the room, her eyes wide, her body tensed to flee.
“What the deuce is going on here?” Cornelius asked, and his voice boomed in the hushed atmosphere. Every eye in the room turned to him.
“Oh, Cornelius, thank goodness you’re here.” Amelia’s relief was palpable. She ran over to him and stopped short of reaching for his arm. “I fear for Charles’ sanity.”
“Yes, Cornelius. Thank goodness you’re here,” Charles said in a falsetto parrot of his cousin’s words. His grin bordered on madness. “You can give dear Amelia away, so she can marry me.”
A low murmur went through the room. Were the guests aware of the full extent of Charles’ plan or was it simply shock after shock that had been revealed thus far?
“Charles, you’re overwrought,” Amelia said from Cornelius’ side. It gave him a modicum of comfort to know she hadn’t abandoned him. “Perhaps you should lie down.”
“Oh, I’m quite well.” Charles took a step toward them. “And finally, it’s clear to me what I need to do.” He gestured to the clergyman, who glanced between them with confusion. “I intend to marry Amelia, and with her by my side, I can be the earl she’s always wanted.”
Ah, so then part of his surmise had been correct.
Still, he struggled to hide his shock. “She’s your first cousin, and unless I miss my guess, she doesn’t care for you in that way. Would you truly force her to do this?”
The other man shrugged in negligent fashion. “It’s what is done throughout the ton to keep bloodlines pure. You know this. In the nobility, no one bats an eye at such marriages.”
Cornelius narrowed his eyes. “Do you love her?”
Charles flicked his gaze to Amelia and then back to him. “For years, I thought of her like a sister—Peter’s sister.” Pain clouded his eyes, gone at the next blink. “But since Peter’s death, I’ve come to see her in a different light. I do hold affection for her. She’s run my estate for so long, that her devotion combined with my feelings, a match between us is a foregone conclusion.”
“Bloody hell,” he whispered as he glanced at Amelia. Her focus lay on her cousin, but even in profile, her face showed signs of strain and worry. A wedding should bring a cessation of all that and should usher in joy for the bride. It should be a steppingstone to better things, a directional change from what she’d left behind. “Amelia deserves love in her life again. Not a marriage of convenience because you’re afraid of facing your reality, and definitely not a man who keeps mistresses.” When she glanced at him, Cornelius smiled. “She deserves a man’s undivided attention at this time in her life.”
“That was beautifully said,” she whispered, and she laid a hand on his arm. “Your son told me you’ve resigned from your duties at the Home Office. You told me the same that night when we...” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t fully believe it.
“It’s true. I’m done with that part of my life.” He took possession of her fingers. “The decision has never been more fortuitous, for I’ve discovered something more important to fill my time.”
“Stop it!” Charles took another few steps toward them. “This is not how the day is supposed to go.”
Dear Lord, he’s coming unhinged. As shock moved through Cornelius and Amelia stumbled back a step, he addressed the room at large. “While the Coventry family is grappling with this personal crisis, I think it best if you would all find your own entertainment for the moment. We apologize for the inconvenience.” He glanced at the butler. “Mr. Jessup, if you will please assist?”
“I will, my lord.” In true professional fashion, the older gentleman guided some of the more bewildered guests from the room with promises of a picnic-style luncheon in the ballroom.
Once the last of them departed, Charles rested a glare on Cornelius. His fingers curled into fists. “You always think you know best for everyone.”
“No. I use quiet logic to assess the situation.” He stood back to better look at Amelia. Shock warred with surprise in her expression. “Is marrying Charles what you want for your life?”
“I’m flattered, of course, but Charles,” she glanced at her cousin, “you must know we wouldn’t suit.”
Cornelius frowned, for she hadn’t said no.
“You don’t know that.” Slowly, Charles stalked the floor toward her. “No doubt you’re in the grip of confusion, my dear. You’ve put your faith and heart into the hands of men who weren’t strong enough for you.” His grin was both mesmerizing and disturbing. “I’m the better—the safer—choice.”
She shook her head. “There are many things you need to explain. After what happened last night—”
“Apparently, Lord Winchester can’t handle his liquor.”
Cornelius scoffed. “While this is true, why did you, of all people, keep pressing drinks into my hand? Only a few people know why I don’t imbibe.”
Charles shrugged. “Is it my fault you have weak willpower?”
It was time to step in. He well knew what a smooth talker Charles could be. “He’s not a good man, Mia. Twice he tried to murder me, and when that failed, he attempted to poison me with my own laudanum.”
“You told me the same last night when I found you.” She nodded, and once again, shadows clouded her eyes.
“That’s pure speculation,” Charles shouted. “A product of a desperate mind, a man who knows he’s lost. Many people had access to that punch bowl last night.”
“Yet none of the others were sick as a result of drinking from it,” Amelia said in a soft voice. “I indulged in a cup of the punch later in the evening, and I am quite well.” She narrowed her eyes. “Charles, what have you done?”
Before the earl could offer an explanation or rebuttal, Edward came into the room dragging a reluctant kitchen maid with him. “I found the bottle, Father, in the earl’s armoire.” He held the small brown bottle aloft in his free hand. “Furthermore, this girl told me Lord Trento
n charmed her so that she’d slip the medicine into your glass of punch before she gave it to him.”
“Obviously, she’s lied. Some servants aren’t as loyal as we would like.” Charles waved a hand. “Sack her, Amelia.”
“That isn’t a wise decision, if you don’t mind me saying,” Edward interrupted. He found Cornelius’ gaze. “I also discovered a bowstring behind some of the earl’s jackets, and in the process of talking to some of the servants belowstairs, one of them told me Lord Trenton’s valet is quite skilled in archery.”
Amelia gasped. “Charles, why would you do this?”
Insecurity flashed briefly over her cousin’s face before his customary confidence banished it. “Again, all circumstantial evidence, I can assure you. Cornelius is ruining everything we have. Even you can see the trouble started as soon as he stepped foot in Trenton Hall.”
“How do you figure?” She maneuvered herself between Cornelius and Charles. “What does any of this mean?”
“I was reluctant to tell you the truth earlier when Cornelius asked, but I am in love with you, Amelia.” He offered his charming smile. “You’ve been so distracted by him that you couldn’t see my intentions.” Charles took hold of one of her hands. “I want to marry you so we can properly put the family back together. To heal. To start over again. I know how much you desire that.”
“It’s not a secret,” she admitted, albeit in a weak voice.
Damn it all, I’m losing her. “You’re a lying bastard, Trenton.” Cornelius stepped around Amelia and invaded his friend’s personal space. “You don’t want her to leave you alone to lie in the bed you’ve made by neglecting the title. You’re a lazy weasel who’ll do anything not to take up your responsibility.”
“Not true.” Charles shook his head. The golden strands of his hair glimmered in the sunlight streaming into the room. “I’ve waited for the perfect moment to declare myself, and Amelia had previously been in mourning.”
“You had plenty of time! And if you’d bothered to pay the slightest attention to her, you’d see that her wearing red indicates she’s well and truly done with mourning.” Hot anger rose in Cornelius’ chest. “You’re threatened by what I share with her, and the fact that it’s real. It will last now.”
“Ha!” A thundercloud entered Charles’ expression. Hatred glittered in his hazel eyes. “You aren’t good enough for her, and you know why.”
“Argh!” He sprang at Charles. “I never figured you to bow to jealousy.” They grappled for dominance despite Amelia screaming at them to leave off. Cornelius swung his fist in an excellent right hook that connected on the other man’s jaw. Charles staggered backward, eyes flashing. “If you fail to stand down, I will give you more of the same.” His chest heaved from the exertion.
The butler returned to the room, his jaw agape with shock.
“Mr. Jessup.” Amelia took a few steps toward him. “Please take the maid the viscount is holding into custody until I can speak to her and find out the truth.”
“Of course, my lady.” Without preamble, the butler led the crying girl away with a hand on her upper arm. “To think, after all your training and everything Lady Amelia has done for you, it’s come to this,” he muttered on his way out of the room.
Cornelius wasn’t done taking his friend to task yet. He rounded on Charles. “Amelia could have died twice during those times you tried to take me out while I walked the grounds.” He wiped at the sweat on his brow with a sleeve. “If you truly loved her, you wouldn’t have put her into such danger.”
“Another batch of lies.” Charles rubbed the spot on his jaw with long fingers. “You’ve seen my aim as a marksman. I could have killed you any time. From what I understand, all shots missed you... more or less. Therefore, it wasn’t me. Case closed.”
Yes, it was all circumstantial evidence, and nothing concrete against Charles. The fact he’d manipulated servants into doing the actual crimes was a different matter. As he glared at his former best friend, he then knew why the man acted the way he had. “You’re still grieving. And hurting. It’s a difficult situation, but this is not the way to overcome it.”
“You know me not at all,” Charles spat out with fists curled at the ready. “You, with your put-together life and your respectable son, all that you’ve carefully rebuilt for a better image. As if your past never happened.”
Cornelius glanced at Amelia, who shrugged as she approached them once more. He transferred his attention back to Charles. “It took a long time. I couldn’t find peace at the bottom of a bottle, or in pain medicine, or in a whore’s bed, or even on a mission. It all began with me and forgiving myself, for accepting what was. Even now, it’s still a struggle.”
For one second, a trace of tears filled Charles’ eyes. He fought off the emotions gripping him. “I did nothing wrong except not going to war.”
“Charles.” Amelia went to him. She laid a hand on his arm. “Listen to Cornelius. We all went through a horrible time. No one is denying that. I didn’t manage my grief the best way I could, but Cornelius helped me see it was a season and not a life sentence.”
When it appeared Charles might soften his stance, Cornelius said, “It’s Christmas, Charles, and you’re my best friend. I forgive you for the offense of attempted murder of a peer.”
“Bollocks.” The earl spat upon Cornelius’s boots. His face was a mask of fury and loathing. “So you can walk away noble and blameless?” He shook his head. His eyes held the glint of madness. “If I go down tarnished, so will you.”
Anxiety skittered up his spine. “Let’s talk like gentlemen, then. Somewhere more private.” He glanced at Edward, who shrugged.
“I don’t think so, for I won’t let you walk away with everything I’ve ever wanted.” A grin spread over his face, more diabolical than if he’d plunged a dagger into Cornelius’ heart. He turned to Amelia. “He’s lied to you all these years.”
A frown pulled her perfect lips downward. “What do you mean? Cornelius is the most forthright man I know.”
Oh, God. He should have told her but there hadn’t been time. “Mia—”
“Oh, no.” The bark of laughter Charles uttered sounded harsh in the quiet. “No honest confession now.” He jerked Amelia closer, but she fought off the contact. “You always wondered how Peter ended up in the army. Well, Cornelius paid his commission in defiance of your father’s orders. He urged your dear brother—my beloved cousin—into harm’s way.” A grin of victory curved his lips. “Peter is dead because of Winchester’s interference.”
Pregnant silence reigned in the room.
It was his turn to go on the defensive. “Mia, let me explain.”
“No.” She shook her head, retreated when he came forward, until she bumped into Charles. “I can’t believe you betrayed me like this—betrayed my whole family.”
“It was Peter’s fondest wish. He didn’t want to take up the reins of the earl’s title without making something of himself by his own two hands first.” Desperation throbbed through his frantic heartbeat as the denial in her gaze turned to anger. “Your father wouldn’t listen to Peter’s requests. I knew how earnest he was, how it would tear him apart if he didn’t go fight, so I paid for his commission. It made Peter happy.”
“You lied to me,” she said in a soft, choked voice. “All this time, after everything we went through, talked about, after my own confession...” She shook her head. Tears filled her mossy eyes, making them luminous. “You could have told me then and I would have perhaps forgiven you everything.”
“There wasn’t time, and our relationship was tenuous at best.” He held out a hand to her. When she ignored it, he let if fall to his side. “Why is finding out now any different?”
“Because it means everything you’ve ever told me is suspect.” A droplet of moisture fell to her cheek. “Have you lied all along?”
“No! Of course not.”
“Don’t listen to him, sweeting,” Charles whispered, his lips near her ear. “Do you trul
y want to align yourself with such a man? It’s his business to lie; he probably is incapable of discerning truth from all the falsehoods he’s told.” He raised his gaze to Cornelius, and in a clear voice said, “No, he’s not good for you at all. He’ll only throw your life into further turmoil. Trenton Hall is your safe place. It always has been... ever since he arrived in your life.”
“Yes.” Slowly, she nodded, and another tear fell. “Perhaps you’re right.”
Devil take them both. “You’ll put stock in the words of a man bent on murder?” Shock and anger heated his insides. “I apologize for the timing. That wasn’t my intention.”
“Intentional or not, I abhor being lied to.”
“That’s a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” he asked in a low voice.
“Regardless.” Amelia chopped a hand through the air. She closed the distance between them. “I want you to exit this property, Lord Winchester.”
“And leave you in his clutches?” Fear twisted down his spine. How easily would Charles manipulate her into his bidding? “You’re in danger here, Mia.”
“That is not your concern any longer—not that it ever was.” As she’d done when he first arrived at Trenton Hall for the house party, she pointed to the door. “Please go.” Another few tears fell to her cheeks, and each one of those drops gutted him. “I’d rather not see you again.”
With his chest tight with pain and imminent loss, Cornelius nodded. Daring much, he grabbed her hand and held it tightly. Residual anger made him reckless. “Promise me you won’t marry Charles.”
“He is family.” Her expression crumpled. “It’s so hard to know what to do.”
“He’ll destroy you, like he’s done to us, our friendship.”
Betrayal and disappointment lined her face, aging her. “You mean what’s left of me since I let you close?” She fairly vibrated with the force of her emotions, and he wished he could put his arms around her and comfort her. But he’d lost that right. “Please leave, Cornelius. How can I ever trust you again?”
Wrapped in Red (Colors of Scandal, #4) Page 15