A Scandalous Countess: A Novel of the Malloren World

by Jo Beverley

  “As we thought, but I don’t know the source. I’ve set that in hand. Our friend wrote, or rather scrawled, some specifications for a new pair of pistols.”

  So it wasn’t Vance’s writing. She smiled at him. “That’s delightful to hear.”

  “Isn’t it?” he replied.

  “You do know these waters,” Dracy said, looking at Perry rather coldly. Lud, not more acrimony over her.

  “Navigated them all my life,” Perry said, “and showed a natural talent from a young age. I would have been all at sea in the navy.”

  “I’m not sure Arthur isn’t all at sea there,” Georgia said, referring to her youngest brother.

  “Could be time for a different line of work, yes.”

  They served themselves from the other dishes and talk turned to the heat, the limited amusements in the rapidly thinning Town, and some quirks of fashion. It was unbalanced, for Dracy knew little of such things and cared less, so she shared the story of the water problem at Danae House and the possibility of a fish blocking the pipe.

  “A fish,” Perry said, feigning horror, but he had the same curiosity as she, and soon they were all discussing London’s erratic water supply.

  When the dishes were removed and the second course laid out, she dismissed the servants. As the door closed behind the last of them, she took some veal sweetbreads and fried artichokes. “Now we can talk.”

  “We were talking,” Perry said, selecting from the dishes, “and most enjoyably. But yes, if you need confirmation, the letter is a forgery and not in Vance’s hand. I assume Sellerby, if it was he, didn’t have a sample and didn’t think it would matter, Vance being far, far away.”

  “Do you have any idea where Vance is now?” Dracy asked. “He would be the best witness to a number of things.”

  “None at all,” Perry said.

  Georgia saw Dracy’s irritation. Perry’s light matter could have that effect. “What effort has been made to find him?” he demanded.

  “Every effort, from the first,” Perry said crisply, “and even now there are people at all consulates and embassies with both his name and a reasonably accurate illustration of his face. We have also made known a substantial reward.”

  Dracy still looked irritated, but he said, “I apologize, Perriam. Of course you and your family would have made every effort.” He looked at Georgia. “Will it distress you if we talk about the duel?”

  It would, but she wanted these tangles loosened. “I can endure it, but the facts are clear. There’s no mystery to it.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “Why?” Perry asked.

  “It seems peculiar to me,” Dracy said, “and has from the first. Perhaps it’s only that I don’t understand your world, but everyone agrees that Lord Maybury wasn’t a quarrelsome man.”

  “Nearly any man can be goaded into issuing a challenge,” Perry said, “especially in his cups and before his friends.”

  “But why did Vance goad him?” Dracy asked.

  “Because he was mad enough to think that if Maybury was out of the way he’d have a chance with Georgia.”

  Dracy looked at her. “But he didn’t, did he? Sellerby had a reason to believe that, but Vance?”

  “None at all,” she said, “as I’ve been trying to make clear all along. Truly, we hardly met.” Dracy nodded, but then he went still, staring past her. “Dracy? Is something amiss?”

  “By God,” he said, still staring.

  “Are you struck by an apoplexy,” Perry asked sharply, “or about to strike us dumb by solving the mystery entirely?”

  Dracy looked at him. “Either I’m struck by insanity or about to do just that. Not here, however. A servant might return.”

  Georgia’s heart rate rose. Was it possible? Could she be cleared?

  She stood up. “The small drawing room. Do either of you want tea or coffee?”

  Dracy rose, still lost in thought. “Coffee, I think, and perhaps brandy too.”

  “Oh dear,” Perry said. “I believe we are about to be shocked half to death.”

  Dracy almost sleepwalked to the small drawing room, with its rich green wallpaper and gilded plasterwork, where they soon had coffee and brandy to hand, and the door firmly shut. By silent accord they’d said nothing since leaving the dining room.

  “Now,” Georgia said. “Explain.”

  He’d put the pieces together in his head, but could it really be true, and would it make sense to the others?

  “If you remember, I said that while Vance had no reason to think you would marry him if you were a widow, Sellerby might.” He looked at each in turn. “What if he thought precisely that?”

  Georgia frowned. “That if I were a widow I would marry him? I suppose it’s possible.”

  Perriam was looking as struck as Dracy had been. “By God…”

  “What?” Georgia asked, looking at them. “One of you explain!”

  Dracy wondered too late how she’d react to the new picture, but there was no retreat. “My insane thought is that Sellerby might have brought about your widowhood by hiring Vance to kill your husband in a duel.”

  She went deathly pale.

  All he could think to do was to push on. “Why else did Vance do it? On the surface, he gained nothing except exile. We agree that any notion of him trying to win you is unbelievable. A few days ago, I was told about a man called Curry who might have been paid to try to kill the Marquess of Rothgar in a duel.…”

  “No,” Georgia said. “No, no, no!”

  “Definitely no,” Perriam said, going to her side and taking her hands, chafing them. “I’m willing to entertain the possibility that Sellerby had a letter forged in an attempt to clear the field, but murder? He’s the least bloodthirsty of men. He turns pale at the sight of blood. I’ve seen him faint because of it.”

  “He didn’t have to see any blood,” Dracy pointed out. “Georgia…”

  She seemed lost in horror, thrown back to her husband’s dreadful death.

  What a fool he was to speak of this in front of her. He went to her, pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t think of it.”

  She burst into tears, deep, racking tears.

  Dracy stroked her back, looking helplessly at her shocked brother. “Georgia, don’t. Your husband died by the sword, and that hasn’t changed, but you’ve grieved that and mourned that.”

  She wailed and sobbed on.

  Heaven help him, what should he do? “He died quickly. He may not have known what happened to him.…”

  She looked up at him, breathing hard, tears streaming. “You don’t understand! If you’re right, everyone’s right. I’m to blame!”

  She thrust away from him and stumbled back. When he reached to balance her, she swatted his hand away.

  “Don’t you see? Don’t either of you see? All this time I’ve taken comfort from one thing—it was nothing to do with me. Whatever caused Dickon to challenge Vance, it couldn’t have been about me. Whatever drove Vance to kill, it couldn’t have been me. But it was me. It was all me. Dickon was killed because of me!”

  “No.” He went to her, but she beat him away with her fists.

  “Don’t. Don’t come near me! You were right to call me Helen. I get men killed. I won’t…I can’t…” She looked wildly between them and then ran out of the room.

  Dracy took a step to follow, but Perriam gripped his arm. “I’ll go. I’ll make sure she’s cared for. Wait here, if you will. We have much to discuss.”

  Dracy was left alone, wishing he’d kept his damned mouth shut.

  Georgia ran toward her room, but she’d be found there. She ran up to the unused schoolroom with its neglected toys and over-read books and stood there, beyond tears now, unable to see any way forward.

  She turned at a footstep, but it was Perry.

  “Don’t argue with me,” she said. “It’s true.”

  “Even if it’s true, the fault doesn’t lie with you.”

  “Does it not
? It’s not only my appearance. You know that I like to flirt, to charm, to bewitch, even. You warned me more than once about my court. It was a sin of carelessness, not deliberation. But I killed Dickon.”

  “It’s a wild guess. There may be nothing in it.”

  “What if there is? And I can see it, Perry. Sellerby has become more and more peculiar in his behavior. Maddened by me.”

  “Georgia, you have a leveler head than this.”

  “Have I? I can’t see it any other way.”

  “The way, as always, is forward. What’s between you and Dracy?”

  She put a hand to her face, shaking her head, unable even to find words.

  “He loves you.”

  “To his peril.”

  “He seems a man able to take care of himself. And take care of you.”

  She laughed at that, a bitter sound. “Until some other man who desires me plots murder!”

  “Madmen are rare.”

  “Except that I create them, like the enchantress who turned men into swine?”

  “Yes, the Greeks knew a thing or two, but come down from the heights, love. If Dracy’s right, it’s a terrible thing and Sellerby will pay, one way or another, but it was his sin, not yours. You have your life to live, and I don’t think you’re suited to a convent.”

  “What am I suited to, then?”

  “Perhaps Dracy.”

  Georgia couldn’t believe Perry was suggesting such a thing. He, more than anyone, knew her nature. “I’d bankrupt him in a year.”

  “I’m sure you’re capable of being frugal if you try.”

  “But I don’t want to try! And if I suffered frugality for him, he’d know it and be miserable. I can’t face him. He’ll have to leave. Oh, I don’t know what to do!”

  “You need to get away from here,” he said steadily, “for your safety as much as anything else. If Sellerby is a mad murderer, he might try to do you harm. Where do you want to go? To Winnie’s?”

  “With Eloisa Cardross there?”

  “No,” he agreed with a smile. “Where, then?”

  Georgia saw one path clearly. “To Brookhaven. To Lizzie Torrismonde. Now. I want to go now.”

  So she could avoid Dracy. So she wouldn’t weaken. Before spending another night under the same roof.

  “I’ll make the arrangements,” Perry said.

  His calmness spread to her, but didn’t they talk about a dead calm? She couldn’t think, and couldn’t see her future beyond one point, the point she clung to, Lizzie and Havenhurst. Calm, sensible Lizzie and her tranquil home. Lizzie’s steady, amiable husband. Her children. There was hope of sanity at Havenhurst, and perhaps even a path beyond.

  “Go and have Jane pack what you need,” Perry said. “You won’t need much.”

  Georgia burst out laughing, on the edge of tears again. “I’ve given her the day off!”

  “I’m sure you’re capable of packing your own clothes if you try.”

  “What challenges you’re setting me. I know where she is. I can send for her. Thank you, Perry.”

  “I’ve failed you all around, but I’ll clear everything up now.”

  “You can’t do that,” she said wearily. “If Sellerby hired Vance, there’s no proof of it, and Sellerby will never confess. Vance is far, far away. If by some miracle you found him and dragged him back, if he confessed all, I’d be little better off. The world would know the duel was all because of me, because of Lady May’s foolish, flirtatious ways, and many will choose to believe I was Sellerby’s whore.”

  “Sometimes it would be easier if you were a wigeon. Yes, you will always have some of that story hanging over you. But you can dilute it every day by being yourself, especially if no one else stirs the pot. We can easily deal with Millicent and Eloisa, even though Pranks is scared to stand up to his wife. Soon Sellerby will trouble you no more.”

  She clutched his arm. “No duel. Promise me, Perry. No duel!”

  “It would be simplest, but I doubt I’d get him out, so I promise.”

  “And make sure Dracy doesn’t take that route.”

  “I will. You don’t intend to speak to him before you leave?”

  “It’s better that way. I…I don’t know if I love him, Perry, but it will break my heart a little to cut him free. I have to do it, however.” She sadly turned the globe, thinking of all the places Dracy had been, all the women he’d pleasured, and would in the future. “We’re like creatures from different worlds, like night and day.”

  “Perhaps,” he said, “but a time to recover and think about it will do you no harm. He’s a good man.”

  “Which is why I have to cut him free. Tell him that I thank him, for everything in the past and for any effort he makes in the future, but that I can’t see him again.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded and went to her room. She sent a note to Jane at the Three Cups at Clerkenwell, but she also sent for her smaller trunk and began to pack for herself.

  Chapter 30

  Dracy paced the drawing room until Perriam returned. It seemed a hour or more, though the ticking clock showed only ten minutes.

  “She doesn’t want to see you,” Perriam said.

  “The fate of the bearer of bad news.”

  “Perhaps, but her main concern seems to be to protect you from her deadly effect.”

  “That’s nonsense.”

  Dracy stepped forward, but Perriam raised a hand. “All the same, you’ll do as she wishes.”

  He could overpower the smaller man. “I’m tempted,” he said, “if only to see how good you are.”

  “I’m sure it would amuse,” Perriam said, “but so distressing to get blood on the carpet.”

  “Devil take it, but I don’t suppose I’ll further my cause with Georgia by breaking your bones. I have to watch over her.”

  “Against her wishes? She wants to leave Town, to go to Brookhaven, the Torrismondes’ place. Lady Torrismonde is her dearest friend, and Torrismonde’s a good, dependable man.”

  Dracy didn’t want Georgia more than a few yards from him, but she’d be better off away from the beau monde and Sellerby. “Well escorted,” he said. “If I’m right, Sellerby’s literally mad for her.”

  “Very well escorted, but we can spike his guns by letting him know we suspect his part in the letter. He’s sane enough to go carefully when under suspicion.”

  Dracy turned to pace the room. “I wish he weren’t. I want to see him hang.”

  “So do I—Dickon Maybury was a good fellow—but the evidence would have to be very solid to convict a peer, and thus far all we have is suppositions. I see no hope of more unless we first find Vance and then force him to incriminate himself.”

  Dracy grimaced at that prospect. “He’ll get away with it? Apart from the injustice, will Georgia ever be safe?”

  “He won’t get away with it,” Perriam said, in a tone that chilled the air. “And Georgia will be safe.”

  “A duel?” Dracy said, studying him. “She—”

  “She’s forbidden it. If necessary, I’ll kill him in cold blood, but only when I’m sure without doubt that he’s the monster we think he is.”

  Dracy was shocked. He no longer thought the Honorable Peregrine Perriam a silly fop, but he’d met few men who could make such a statement and be believed. He believed in this case.

  A twitch of Perriam’s lips showed he read these thoughts. “Are you willing to stay in Town and help pursue proof?”

  “Of course,” Dracy said, though half of himself was with Georgia above stairs, longing to be closer, and stay closer.

  “Then you’d best remove to my rooms. I’ll explain the two departures to my parents.”

  “You’ll tell them all?”

  Perriam laughed. “By no means! My father’s temper is chancy at best, and Mother can be a Gorgon when the family’s threatened. I will simply say that Georgia felt the need for some country calm, and you don’t wish to impose any longer. Time to leave,” he prompted. “I�
��ll arrange for your belongings to be packed and—”

  “No, dammit!” Dracy exploded. “It’s madness. She can’t travel without one of us. We’re the only ones who know the real threat.”

  “We can warn the outriders.…”

  “And if the Earl of Sellerby stops them and spins some story, they’ll deny him?”