Unmistakably, the signor paled.
Without protest, he rose from his seat and waited while Damon spoke quietly to Prince Lazzara.
“Will you join us, your highness? I believe this concerns you also.”
Lord Haviland followed them all from the dining room, down the corridor to a nearby parlor.
Once there, Damon displayed his treasures to the three men and explained his suspicions that the poisoned arrows and medicinal drug had been used to harm Prince Lazzara-all the while keeping his gaze trained on the prince's elder cousin.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Signor Vecchi?” Damon concluded.
Vecchi frowned. “Say? Why should I say anything? I have never seen those before.”
“I found these in your room, sir.”
The Italian's countenance darkened. “You pried into my personal belongings? What gentleman would do such at thing?”
Before Damon could reply, Lady Beldon swept into the room. “What is the meaning of this, Wrexham?” she demanded. “Are you purposely intent on spoiling my luncheon by dragging my guests away?”
Damon held up a hand, not wanting to be distracted. “Allow us a moment, if you please, my lady.”
Looking taken aback by his command, the viscountess started to sputter in indignation, but Damon ignored her and kept his gaze pinned on Signor Vec-chi.
“What will your servant say if we confront him with this evidence, sir? I myself saw Giacomo assault Prince Lazzara outside a London bazaar and steal his purse. My guess is that Giacomo also shot the curare arrow that day at the Royal Gardens and sabotaged the prince's carriage wheel in the Park. You, however, drugged the prince's cup at the ball and shoved him down the stairs at the opera.”
Vecchi's scowl merely deepened. “How dare you, sir! What right have you to accuse me? Perhaps this servant you speak of perpetrated such foul deeds, but I had naught to do with any of it.”
“You never attempted to murder your own cousin?”
“Certainly not!” Vecchi exclaimed, attempting to bluster his way out. “This is preposterous! And you can prove none of it!”
“Can I not?” Damon retorted smoothly. “Will Giacomo deny being your accomplice, or will he confess to save his own skin?”
Vecchi abruptly fell mute, evidently not trusting in his minion's loyalty. In the tense silence, Lady Beldon looked bewildered, while the prince's features were growing ever more grim.
“It seems we are at a momentary impasse,” Damon observed after a moment. “Haviland, will you be so kind as to summon Mr. Giacomo to us?”
“I would be delighted,” the earl responded lightly.
“Wait!”
Vecchi visibly gritted his teeth before hunching his shoulders, as if warding off a blow. Then exhaling a long breath, he bowed his head in surrender, all his defiance gone.
“A gentleman of honor would admit his mistakes,” Damon urged quietly. “Were you intent on murder or something less violent, Signor?”
Wincing, Vecchi shook his head. “It was never murder. I never intended his highness real harm.”
Prince Lazzara spoke for the first time, his tone edged with fury. “Then what did you intend, Cousin?”
Raising his head, Vecchi gazed at the prince imploringly. “Don Antonio, I merely wanted to impede your courtship of Lady Eleanora. I did not wish you to marry an Englishwoman, but your romance was proceeding at an alarming pace.”
The prince scowled. “You hoped to prevent me from wooing and winning Lady Eleanora?”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
“Because I have always wished you to wed Isabella. From the moment my daughter was in her cradle, her mother and I dreamed of your union.”
Lazzara looked astounded.
The confession surprised Damon as well. Vecchi had caused the various accidents because he wanted Lazzara to marry his daughter instead of Eleanor?
“Why would a series of mishaps thwart the prince's courtship?” Damon asked.
Vecchi shrugged. “Lady Eleanora is a spirited and capable young lady. I judged that if his highness were made to look ineffectual and effeminate in her eyes, she would be less likely to wed him.”
Lazzara voiced an expletive in Italian, but his tone held an edge of bitterness when he muttered, “For my own flesh and blood to betray me this way is beyond belief!”
Damon stiffened as another thought occurred to him. “What about the balloon ascension?” he demanded. “Was Giacomo responsible for releasing the moorings as well as the other incidents?”
The signor shifted his gaze to Damon. “No, I paid an attendant of Signor Pucinelli to loosen the ropes. When you entered the gondola with her, Lord Wrex-ham, I saw the opportunity to further your own courtship of her.”
An attendant who had immediately disappeared afterward, Damon remembered, while he and Eleanor had faced peril with the pilotless flight of the balloon.
He'd played right into Vecchi's hands, Damon thought, cursing the bloody irony of it. They had both harbored similar purposes-to prevent an unwanted marriage between Eleanor and Lazzara. But he had also been intent on keeping her away from the prince for the sake of her safety. Unlike Vecchi.
The larger crime was that Eleanor had been seriously endangered, more than once.
Damon set his jaw, finding it difficult to control his own fury. “You are aware, Signor, that you risked Lady Eleanor's life several times over? She could have been hurt badly, even killed.”
“Yes, and I regret that sincerely.”
As if sensing that Damon was very close to wrapping his hands around the diplomat's throat, Lord Haviland stepped in to diffuse the tension. “I am curious, Signor Vecchi. We might never have identified you as the perpetrator had your servant not arrived at Rosemont. What brought Giacomo here?”
Vecchi grimaced. “He demanded immediate payment for his services.”
“So you hired him to contrive these various accidents but then neglected to compensate him?”
“I had every intention of paying him as soon as I came into the funds.”
It was like so many of the upper class, treating their servants and tradesmen like cattle, Damon thought, uncurling his fists in an effort to calm his urge for retribution. The question of what to do with Signor Vecchi and his lackey, however, still remained.
Turning, Damon addressed Prince Lazzara. “I am inclined to let you mete out justice for your cousin, your highness. We could perhaps press charges against him for assault, but as he is a high-ranking diplomat, it might create difficulties for our government. And I suspect the punishment you choose will be more severe.”
“You may count on it, my lord,” the prince agreed grimly.
“You will, of course, see that he leaves the country immediately?”
“Yes, most assuredly.”
Moving to kneel before the prince, Vecchi clutched his hand in supplication. “Don Antonio… I truly beg your forgiveness!”
Lazzara's expression was one of revulsion. “At this moment I cannot contain my disgust of you. You are a disgrace to our family and to our country.” Pulling his hand away, the prince spoke in a lower, more humble voice to Damon. “I must thank you, Lord Wrexham. You have opened my eyes to my cousin's treachery.” He sent Vecchi a glance of loathing. “I could perhaps comprehend his perfidy toward me, but his heinous acts against Lady Eleanora are unforgivable.”
“Indeed.” The single harsh word had been uttered by Lady Beldon, who had understood enough of the conversation to be enraged.
“This is outrageous, sir!” she exclaimed to Signor Vecchi, her voice trembling with fury. “I never realized what a dastardly blackguard you are. You will understand when I say that you are no longer welcome in my home. I demand that you take your leave at once.”
His expression bleak, Vecchi slowly rose to his feet and exited the parlor. Prince Lazzara, after offering profuse apologies to her ladyship, marched determinedly after his cousin.
Lord Haviland
caught Damon's eye. “I will make certain Giacomo doesn't decide to flee the premises.”
Damon nodded in agreement. But once the earl had left, his attention returned to Lady Beldon.
She was still trembling, although he suspected her ire had ebbed a measure, only to be replaced by despair.
Taking her elbow, Damon helped the viscountess over to the sofa, where she sank down heavily and lifted her hand to her forehead. Clearly she was shaken enough that she scarcely noticed him.
“May I fetch you something, my lady?” Damon asked. “Wine, perhaps? Or smelling salts?”
Lady Beldon stiffened at the question, then grimaced as if berating herself for showing weakness in front of him.
Drawing a long, shuddering breath then, she eyed Damon haughtily. “I want nothing from you, Wrex-ham. You are in my ill graces once again for bringing pain to my niece.”
Damon leveled a cool look at her. “Pray, just how did I cause your niece pain, Lady Beldon?”
“With your philandering ways, that is how. Elea nor was highly aggrieved to discover you are still consorting with your ladybird.”
A cold chill ran up Damon's spine. Lazzara must have informed Eleanor about his meeting with Lydia immediately after arriving back at Rosemont.
At his reaction, the viscountess's mouth twisted with disdain. “You might at least have had the decency to wait until returning to London instead of carrying on in this wicked fashion. I sincerely hope you will conduct your affairs with more discretion in the future.”
“Where is Eleanor now?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Her bedchamber. She meant to leave you this very afternoon and return to London on her own, but I think I persuaded her to hold off for the time being. Her departure in the middle of my house party would only give rise to scandal. I also told her that she would be wise to overlook your dissolution- Wrexham! Where are you going?”
Damon had spun abruptly on his heel and headed for the door.
“I need to speak to her at once,” he threw over his shoulder.
A sinking feeling tightened his gut as Damon strode down the corridor toward the front entrance hall. Eleanor would be hurt and furious if she thought he had betrayed her once again-enough that she might very well leave him.
The thought of losing her made his stomach recoil. He couldn't allow her to leave. Not now, when he finally realized how much she meant to him. How dear she was to him.
His breath seized, forming a hard knot in his throat. He loved Eleanor, deeply and irrevocably. He'd vowed to keep his distance from her, to guard his heart from the pain she could cause him. Then he'd ignored his own warnings. He'd let himself dance with fire, telling himself he wouldn't burn when the flames touched him. Yet all this time he had only deceived himself.
He couldn't be with Eleanor and not love her.
If he told her of his feelings now, though, she was unlikely to believe him. On the contrary, she would think he was merely trying to make up for his sins.
Damon hurried his pace, mounting the sweeping staircase three steps at a time. Dread drove him, while one thought kept churning over and over in his mind.
Eleanor would never trust him again. Not when she believed he had broken all his ardent promises of fidelity.
Eleanor's stomach was tied in knots by the time her carriage reached the Boar's Head Inn. When she went inside and inquired after Lord Wrexham, however, the proprietor informed her that his lordship was no longer there.
Relief joined the emptiness and despair and anger warring inside her. She'd desperately hoped she wouldn't find Damon making love to his beautiful mistress. But fortunately or unfortunately, she must have missed him, perhaps because he had ridden cross-country on horseback while she had taken the roads in a carriage.
Eleanor stood for a long moment debating what to do before she finally asked to see Miss Newling. As she followed the innkeep up the wooden stairs to the upper rooms, a dozen chaotic thoughts whirled in her mind. How could she possibly approach the courtesan? With threats? With pleas to keep away from her husband? Or could bribery work to persuade Lydia Newling to leave the district?
And what if she couldn't convince the woman to give up her claim to Damon? Eleanor asked herself with a feeling of panic. Even worse, what if Damon insisted on continuing their liaison?
The very thought was too painful to bear.
She still had not settled on a plan when the proprietor halted before a door to what he said was a private parlor. When Eleanor nodded in dismissal, he bowed and left.
Clammy nerves churned in the pit of her stomach as she hesitated, trying to gather her courage. Deciding it wiser not to show her fear, however, Eleanor took a steadying breath and rapped sharply on the door panel.
When a soft, melodious voice bid entrance, she stepped inside.
Miss Newling had lifted her head, but upon seeing her visitor, her eyes widened in recognition and she sprang to her feet.
“L-Lady Wrexham…” she stammered. “What brings you here?”
Eleanor's heart twisted when she saw the courtesan up close, understanding clearly why Damon would be attracted to the remarkably striking auburn-haired beauty. But she forced herself to offer a cool smile. “I should like to ask the very same of you, Miss New -ling.”
“Th-This is not what you think, my lady.”
“No? How do you know what I think?
“Damon said you would not be happy to learn… I m-mean…” Miss Newling stammered to a halt. Then her gloved hands reached out imploringly. “This is all quite innocent, no matter how it looks. In fact, I was just leaving Brighton-I am waiting for the stage to take me back to London.”
For the first time, Eleanor discerned that Lydia wore a traveling dress, yet the realization did nothing to relieve the pain and dread in her heart. “But you don't deny that you had a rendezvous with my husband?”
“No… I mean, it was not a rendezvous. Not a romantic one, at any event.”
Eleanor's mouth tightened. “Do you honestly think me so gullible?”
“It is true-there is no relationship between us, I swear it. I have not even seen Lord Wrexham in two years, not until today. You see, I came to plead for his help. My sister was recently struck ill with consumption, and her best chance for survival is for her to attend his hospital for consumptives in Italy. I cannot afford the enormous expense to send her there, however. And Mr. Geary didn't wish his lordship to be reminded of our… past alliance and so refused to ask him for me. So I had no choice but to come here and beg Damon… Lord Wrexham to help me.”
Eleanor stared at the courtesan, taken aback by her wholly unexpected revelation.
“Damon has agreed to send my sister there,” the beauty said quietly. “You cannot know how grateful I am for the chance to cure her. She is my only flesh and blood, the sole family I have left, and I could not just allow her to die without doing everything in my power to save her.”
“I think I can imagine,” Eleanor murmured after a long hesitation.
“Please, my lady,” Lydia added. “I beg your understanding. I would never have come here if there had been any choice. Lord Wrexham is all that is kind and generous, and I had nowhere else to turn.”
She couldn't fault Damon for his compassion, Eleanor thought distractedly. Indeed, she had to praise him. But even so, she couldn't forgive him for concealing the truth from her and causing her such anguish.
“If he had such a simple explanation, Miss New -ling, why did he meet with you in this clandestine fashion and allow me to think he was carrying on an affair?”
“He feared you might misconstrue my presence and wished to spare you any pain. Please believe me, my lady, you needn't worry. I would never purposely cause any harm to your union. There is nothing between us now. Nor was there any affair two years ago when you ended your betrothal to him.”
“No affair?” Eleanor repeated sharply.
“No, none. I know Damon… Lord Wrexham wanted you to think so, but it was complet
ely over between us by then. He broke off our liaison practically the first moment he met you.”
Eleanor stiffened at that obvious falsehood. The Cyprian was trying to defend Damon, but it was no use. “I have little patience for lies, Miss Newling. I saw you together in the park that day, and when I confronted Damon, he never denied that he still had you in keeping.”
“Yes, but it was all a ruse to make you break off your betrothal.”
Eleanor continued to stare.
“It is the God's honest truth, my lady,” Lydia insisted. “I swear on my life.”
“You are saying…” Eleanor tried to swallow past the dryness in her throat. “You mean that he fabricated the entire contretemps so he would not have to marry me?”
“Yes, my lady. He got cold feet about the wedding, you might say.” Lydia suddenly grimaced. “I suspect he would not thank me for telling you, though. I promised him then I would say nary a word to anyone.”
Eleanor took another step into the room. “You have already begun, Miss Newling. And it will be no more incriminating to continue. Pray tell me everything you know about what happened two years ago. I am waiting with bated breath.”
* * *
As Eleanor entered her carriage to return to Rose-mont half an hour later, her heart felt the battering of so many conflicting emotions: amazement, relief, contrition, sympathy, gladness, vexation, wonder, anger.
She was overwhelmingly relieved that she'd been wrong about Damon. He had not betrayed her with his beautiful former mistress as she'd feared.
She regretted having thought the worst of him just now and was willing to admit that she should have trusted him more.
Yet he was chiefly to blame for her lack of trust, Eleanor thought defiantly. Two years ago Damon had deliberately goaded her into ending their engagement.
Even though she understood why, that galled her the most. All that wasted time when they could have been together.
She had always known that he was her ideal mate, even if, infuriatingly, he couldn't see it. For a man as clever and quick-witted as Damon was, he could be awfully thick-headed!
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