Ravishing in Red

by Madeline Hunter

  The solicitor left at once.

  “My apologies for implying more involvement on your part than there could have been,” Sebastian said.

  “Apology accepted. I will not call you out and kill you.”

  “It took him a long time to find this information.”

  “Not at all. He had it in my hand the evening of your last visit. I did not give it to you until today because my Tuesdays were full of other business.”

  “Of course. There are only so many Tuesday hours in a week, after all. Are you going to tell me who paid off this debt with that mill? It is important.”

  Castleford eyed the decanter of brandy, but clearly thought better of it. “As it happens, that was the other business filling those Tuesdays. I did not like that someone had buried his crimes behind my name in this way. No doubt he assumed that when evidence pointed to me, any investigation would end. Such special consideration is the sort of unfairness that makes it very nice to be a duke, but it is bad form to take advantage of the advantage, so to speak, if you are not a duke.” He stifled a yawn. “Sit, please. You are reminding me of my old tutor, hovering there.”

  Sebastian sat. “His name?”

  “You are truly disliked at the Board of Ordnance. Did you know that? They use strong language when talking about you. Oakes burned my ears, and Mulgrave doesn’t trust you at all.”

  “You spent the last two Tuesdays talking to the senior officers of the Board of Ordnance?”

  “Something did not make sense, and I thought they might clear it up. I find that I like things to make sense on Tuesdays.”

  “That is what sobriety does for you.”

  “Hence the tedium.” He leaned forward with his forearms on his knees and looked very soberly at Sebastian. “Here it is. It seems—and I do not recollect it at all—that I got that mill in payment of a gambling debt from Percival Kennington.”

  “Kennington?”

  “Odd, isn’t it? Who would have guessed he had gone into trade. And according to Goodale, not alone. His friend Symes-Wilvert was in it too. Two solid sons of barons, putting their shoulders to the grindstone together, literally, to manufacture gunpowder for the great cause.”

  Sebastian was as surprised as Castleford wanted. He never guessed that Pettigrew and Eversham were actually two men he knew. Bloody hell, what had they been thinking? Whatever they had gained financially had not been worth the risks. And to now live with the knowledge they had caused the deaths of innocent men—Jesus, he had wanted to hand Morgan justice on this matter as a gift, but now his closest friends—

  “You set out to be an avenging angel, but find yourself on the devil’s path, I think, Summerhays.”

  Castleford was watching him closely. Not with glee. His eyes were those of a friend from years ago, who had just read his mind, and who had sent Goodale away for a reason.

  “Why did you really speak with the officers of the Board of Ordnance?”

  “To express my severe displeasure. Everyone knows those two are fools. Would you buy gunpowder from them? Damn, I would not trust a flint if they sold it. I don’t care if they tried to be sly by naming the company after their great-aunts or favorite horses. Men on the Board had to know who owned that mill. Yet they still contracted with them.” He sat back in his chair. “One wonders why.”

  Castleford would say nothing more. That last sentence spoke his opinion. His expression conveyed an old friend’s concern.

  They both knew that there was no way that Kennington and Symes-Wilvert would obtain a contract from the Board on their own.

  Someone had interceded on their behalf.

  A woman knows when a man’s mind is not on her. Especially when they are in bed.

  Audrianna realized that while Sebastian’s caresses were the same and his kisses just as passionate, an essential part of her husband was not paying attention.

  Her own desire ebbed as a result. She covered his hand with hers, and held it to her breast.

  She had never stopped him before, but she could not pretend that something was not alive in this chamber besides the thrills of mutual pleasure.

  He did not seem to mind. He stayed in their embrace for a long time, his hand beneath hers. Then he sat up and reached for his robe. “I am sorry.”

  He left. She heard sounds in the dressing room next door. She rose and went to look in. He had thrown on clothes and was pulling on boots.

  He noticed her. “I need some air to clear my head.”

  He appeared sad and subdued. She had never seen him like this before. “What is it that so preoccupies you?”

  He forced a smile and came over and kissed her forehead. “Go to sleep.”

  That would never happen now. She did not even try. She returned to her chamber and ducked beneath the drapes so she could look out. Soon she saw him in the garden, just standing there in the moonlight. Perhaps it was the night, or the mood she had felt in him, but he appeared tragically solitary down there.

  She draped her sensible shawl around her and put on her slippers. Taking a taper for light, she went down the stairs and out into the night.

  He did not even notice her at first, so absorbed he was in his thoughts. She doubted he knew he had not moved from the same spot for a quarter hour now.

  He finally saw her. He stretched out one arm and she went to him. He wrapped his arms around her and his mood enclosed her too. The sorrow within it was unmistakable now, and her own heart saddened too.

  “What is it?” she asked again.

  He kissed her crown. “I am on the horns of a dilemma. For the first time I do not know what to do. I never expected—I have misunderstood something so profoundly that I should be shot for stupidity.”

  “Not about me, I hope.”

  “Not about you. You are all goodness and honesty. It is about my brother. I think—I do not want to suspect it but—I think that he has known the truth all along about that gunpowder. I fear that—I believe that his interest in the matter all this time was not that of a man seeking justice, but of a man seeking reassurance that his own role would not be discovered.”

  He tensed as he spoke, but calmed once he finished. The latter mattered more to her than her shock at what he said.

  “You must have good cause to think this, or you would not. It is almost inconceivable, however.”

  He turned her under his arm, so they could stroll among the plantings. The night’s damp made the scents of spring hang heavily around them, mocking his wintery spirit.

  “The powder was made at a mill owned by Kennington and Symes-Wilvert, the two friends who visit him each week. He has known them since they all were boys. God help me, I even question their devotion to him now.”

  “If his friends did this, he might be unaware.”

  “He may not be certain, but he is not unaware. I am seeing so many things in my mind again. His questions, even his concern about you—I think he knows, and it preys on his mind.”

  “Do you think he invested? Gave them the money? Surely he did not plan the smuggling and the rest. I will not believe that of him.”

  “I think he used his influence to ensure that mill’s powder was bought for the war. The rest, I hope, was not of his doing.” They paced on slowly. “But I think he knows. I think he has known a very long time.”

  She understood the chaos in him, because it was in her too now. And perhaps she also understood the marquess’s own moods, and the melancholy that could descend on him.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I do not know. Perhaps nothing. Or try to find out for certain. To broach this with him—I cannot do it unless I am sure. I want to forget the entire matter. I am tempted but—”

  She said nothing. It was not for her to lead him to any decision.

  “But that would not be right, or fair,” he continued, but not with a lot of conviction. “Not fair to those men, or to that maimed gunner who finally had the key to the truth. Or to you.”

  How much did that last fair
ness weigh on him? Her father’s name carried the full burden of this scandal now, and if there were others, that was not fair.

  However, she did not want to picture him confronting his brother with his suspicions, or even with the truth. That would destroy something between the two of them that would never be replaced. She feared it would also destroy something within each of them too.

  “He only sought to help friends, most likely,” she said. “There is no crime in that.”

  “That is true, there is no crime in that, if that is all he did. However, if I bring this all to light, he will share the disgrace no matter what his role. I think he knows that. And fears that.”

  The hell still tormented him, but he no longer seemed lost in it. She stopped and embraced him. “You seem more yourself now. Still distracted, but not so darkly. It seems the air has indeed cleared your head.”

  “It was not the air, but your good heart and sympathy.” He looked around. “Do you realize where we are?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. They had found their way to that private spot where he had taken her the first day she visited this house.

  “I think that I have some unfinished business with you here,” he said. “I think that I should take care of that, and escape hell for a while.”

  “Are you sure that you can escape it enough?”

  “You will have my complete attention this time.” He led her over to the bench.

  “Perhaps I should see that I do.” She closed her hand on the evidence that she already had most of his attention.

  “What would it take for you to escape completely tonight? For me to turn hell into heaven, the way you did for me when I was lost?”

  “If you sit on that bench and lift that nightdress, I will have us both in heaven soon enough, I promise.”

  “That can wait. I am enjoying this. I want to lead the way, and not only follow. I am allowed to take care of you sometimes too, am I not? When you are sad, or faced with dilemmas.”

  She sat on the bench so she could unfasten his trousers. She released him and took his length in her hands and caressed. She took her time so he would have the best pleasure and forget the harsh world.

  He let her care for him. He did not try to stop her or even caress her back. He stood there while her hands smoothed and stroked, his dark eyes watching her.

  It aroused her too, even though she only gave. She pressed a kiss to the side of his shaft to express that. His whole body tensed in response, and his stance turned as taut as a bow. She playfully kissed the tip. A low, strangled sigh escaped him and his hand lightly touched her crown.

  She understood then. She just knew. She flicked the tip with her tongue. She boldly enclosed it with her lips.

  The remnants of his distraction lifted. He relinquished himself to her. He threw his head back while she led him into ecstasy.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Confusion poured up the staircase. Lady Wittonbury’s voice could be heard rising above it all. Then a louder voice, this time Sebastian’s, ordering the marchioness to be silent.

  Audrianna went down to see what disaster had struck. She came upon Sebastian executing tactics that would impress a field marshal.

  Wittonbury sat in an armed wooden chair at the top of the stairs. Four footmen flanked him. Two more stood halfway down the staircase, facing the marquess.

  Lady Wittonbury hurried over to her. “He has asked to be taken out to the garden. I do not know whether to be overjoyed that he desires the change, or distraught that he might get ill.”

  “I do not think fresh air will harm him. We should choose to be overjoyed, I believe.”

  “Yes. Of course. And yet . . .” She watched the preparations with worried eyes.

  The footmen moved as a unit. They grasped the chair in various places ordained by Sebastian, and at his signal lifted the chair and began carrying it down.

  “You are very sure that all the servants are gone,” Wittonbury said. “I look a fool and do not want those girls to be gossiping about it to servants in other houses.”

  “They have all made themselves scarce,” Sebastian promised. “We will have you outside in a thrice, and back up even faster when you want to return.”

  Audrianna admired the care Sebastian took with this expedition. He was, as always, very solicitous of his brother’s health and pride.

  They had not spoken again of the dilemma regarding the powder. She knew that Sebastian had not brought the matter up with Morgan, however. The distraction was still in him, and yesterday, when they were with the marquess for a few minutes, she had seen how Sebastian looked at his brother in a pensive way that reflected how the decision troubled him.

  The chair reached a landing and turned a corner. Wittonbury could see his mother and her now. “Well, come along,” he called. “I don’t intend to contemplate nature all alone.”

  Lady Wittonbury glided to the top of the staircase. He noticed. “You too, sister. We will have a garden party.”

  They followed the chair out to the terrace and out onto a patch of grass flanked by two stone paths. The footmen set it down. Dr. Fenwood tucked a blanket around the marquess, then walked away to take a position a good fifty yards away.

  Footmen and gardeners hurried to move some iron chairs close. A small table emerged from the house. Sebastian had been carrying two books, and he set them down.

  He checked his pocket watch. “For all the drama, that barely took fifteen minutes. In the future it can be done faster, and they can have you back up in your chambers in less than ten even today. Just have Fenwood call for the men.”

  Wittonbury nodded. His mother sat her iron self in an iron chair and beamed approval. Audrianna strolled toward the house with her husband.

  “Was this his idea?” she asked.

  “He was at the window and admired the garden. I said he should go down and did not hear him object.”

  “He seems contented enough.”

  “He knows that his old life is within reach. He can taste it. He refuses to hope and yet he has begun to hope all the same.” He gazed over at the quiet conversation between mother and son. “It would be a hell of a thing if scorn waits for him when he can finally leave this house.”

  “Have you decided what to do?”

  He shook his head. “My courage fails me whenever I try to speak to him about it.”

  He left to go about his day. The marquess beckoned her to one of the chairs. Lady Wittonbury encouraged her to feel like an intruder with the tight smile of forbearance that she wore.

  Audrianna sat as an observer, not a participant. She watched the marquess’s animated expressions and talk. He was delighted to be out here. Maybe even excited. Yet from deep within him she sensed, as she always had, a melancholy that was too quick to accept fate.

  “It was good of you to occupy me for a while,” he said to his mother after a half hour. “I know that you have calls to make, and you should do that. Audrianna will keep me company for a while longer before I go in.”

  Any other woman might have missed the dismissal for what it was. Lady Wittonbury did not. She possessed the ability to exude grace that had a razor’s edge, and she took her leave with an invisible but cutting huff.

  Wittonbury tilted his head so his face received full sun. He closed his eyes. “The warmth is peaceful. It makes me deliciously lazy.”

  “Rest if you like. I will stay here while you do.”

  It appeared he would, but after a few minutes he spoke. “Are you happy, Audrianna? Are you making friends?”

  “I am happy. I have some new friends.”

  “I am glad to hear that you are. My brother has been preoccupied with something of late. I am glad it does not touch on you.”

  “Actually, I think it does. He has learned quite a bit about that gunpowder. We discovered that my father was probably complicit, but that there were others involved too, in worse ways.”

  He did not move. His eyes remained closed. She felt an alertness claim hi
m, however. “That is interesting. What else has he learned?”

  She told him about the young gunner, and the marks on the kegs, and the discovery of the company’s name. She described the scheme to take good powder out of kegs and sell it to a smuggler, and how a man at the arsenal and one in London had been paid to ensure that the tests cleared the bad powder, or that the reports of bad powder were lost.

  She went no further. She did not say that Sebastian knew who owned that mill during the war. She had said enough for him to guess the rest, however, if he knew the truth already.

  He opened his eyes and looked around the garden. A little sadly, but also very thoughtfully.

  He inhaled deeply. “Then he will know it all soon, if he does not already.” He shielded his eyes with one hand. “Thank God.”

  His composure wavered and he shielded his face yet more. He collected himself and looked at her. He appeared truly relieved. Also frightened and desperate.

  Her heart hurt for him. “He recently learned about your two friends. He is not sure that he wants to know all of it now.”

  “No, of course not. But he will decide that he must. It is the honorable choice.” He looked down at his lap and legs. “I believed this was my punishment. When I learned what Kenny and Symes had done, and how I had aided them—a man does not send his oldest friends to prison or worse. So, I went to fight, to make amends. When fate decided a higher price was required, I accepted my loss as fair.”

  “Is that why you have fought that healing? Because you thought fate would exact a higher price instead?”

  “No, dear girl. I deserved this punishment, and so I did not believe there could be any healing in the first place.”

  She reached across the little table. He took her hand in his.

  “Do your friends know that you know?”

  He shook his head. “They thought they were very sly, but if you have known a man most of your life, you can tell when something is up. So it was with them. Little comments between them, spoken out of turn. A new carriage that Kennington could ill afford. Reckless gambling when there had been none in the past. I suspected they had some scheme with that mill. There was a third partner, a man I did not know. He had lured them into it with promises of great riches. Neither one is wealthy, so they were enamored of this investment and insisted it was pouring out money beyond their dreams.”