by Kerryn Reid
“A bit. It’s hard to speak properly.”
He fought to keep his voice level. “I should have killed him.”
Chapter 50
She slept a few hours while he breathed in the smell of her, a little soap and a little of the lilac-scented lotion Putnam had suggested, a little sweat from the evening’s upset. All Anna. He hated to wake her.
Stroking her shoulder, her arm, he whispered into her ear. “Wake up, sweet girl.”
She grumbled. “Can’t be morning.” He could hardly understand her. Her mouth must hurt.
“Almost. I’m sorry, love. I hear footsteps, and Doris fussing.”
“Did you sleep?”
“Who needs sleep? I held you all night, and I could vanquish all the demons of hell.” He kissed her beneath her ear. A shiver ran through her.
While Holly plumped the pillows and helped Anna ready herself, he lit more candles and then held his daughter in front of him eye to eye, returning her scowl, imitating her rooster noises and donkey’s bray. Holly giggled and left them alone.
“My, you’re an impatient little thing,” Lewis told Doris. “But I think… Yes, Mama’s waiting for you.”
He eyed his daughter as she latched on. “Not shy about her breakfast, is she? She sounds like a pig in the slops.”
He washed up with ice cold water. Turning around to pull his clothes from the shelves, he found Anna watching him. He couldn’t be sure with all the swelling, but he thought she was smiling. Once dressed, he pulled aside the window curtain.
“The sun will be up soon. You can see it from here. It’s the only beauty this room has to offer.” He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her cheek, as soft as a breath. “Except for you.”
“Does it look very bad?”
“It looks painful. Yet you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“And you’re a liar. Or blind.” Anna caught his hand in hers. “You’re going to deal with Gideon? What will you do?”
“I’m going to get Sir John here. The vicar too, I hope. My parents will have to be involved in the decision. Where would you have me send him?”
“Wherever I need never see him again.” She paused, frowning.
“No, that’s not enough. Where he’ll never bother you, or Doris, or anyone else I know. And where there are no women.” With each requirement, her grip on him tightened, her voice hardened. The baby tensed as well.
“I’ll do my best. Why don’t you go back to sleep? It’s early, and you might need some rest for tonight.” He winked at her and she blushed. Another good sign, or so he hoped.
Finally, a kiss for Doris. “Have an excellent day, piglet. I know I will.”
“You’re not upset by it all?”
He shook his head. “Remember those demons from hell? There’s only one Gideon.”
Lewis sent his notes off with the stable lads and ate breakfast while he awaited replies. Neither of his parents made an appearance, which suited him. No need to restrain the elation singing through him. Surely it was unnatural for a man to hum while making a list of locations distant and disagreeable enough for his brother’s exile?
He went to the kitchens to see how Gideon had fared overnight. “Has he been fed this morning?” he asked Eddie, the groom.
“I took ’im a tray, but ’e threw it against th’ wall.”
“‘E’s made a reet mess o’ my storeroom,” complained the cook, a fist on one hip and an arrogant gleam in her eye. “When will tha’ be gettin’ him outta there?”
“Today, ma’am, one way or another. We can bring out whatever you need.”
“Humph,” was the only reply as she went back to peeling turnips.
He found Fredricks in the servants’ hall, lounging at his ease with a toothpick and the newspaper that should have been in the breakfast room. He hardly moved when the other servants jumped to attention.
“A couple of gentlemen will be coming to talk to your master. Get him cleaned up, please, and dressed as usual.”
“Who’s going to pay me?”
“You’ve been paid through the month, have you not? If you’re worried about your safety—did he give you that bruise?—you may have as many guards as you need. If you don’t do it, you may consider yourself unemployed. Immediately.” The man slouched off.
Would Gideon need a valet where he was going? Lewis doubted Fredricks would be interested in India or Australia.
An hour later, Redfern arrived. Sir John followed, accompanied by Cassie and her captain.
“What did that pestilential rat do now?” Cassie wanted to know. “Your poor face is bruised again. Did he hurt Anna? Where is she? Oh, take me to her!” Lewis sent her off to the morning room and called the footman to fetch Anna to her.
Sir John shook his head. “I had to bring her, Aubrey. You know what she’s like.”
“Yes, I know,” Lewis said with a chuckle. “She’ll do Anna good. I’d rather she wasn’t alone. And please call me Lewis as you always have. There are altogether too many Aubreys in this house, and I detest half of ’em.”
“By Jove, yes,” said Fuller. “Dashed confusing. Er… Did he do something to Anna? Listen, if you don’t want me in on this, I won’t be offended. Not part of the family yet, after all. I can join the ladies or go out to the stables and smoke a cheroot.”
Lewis shrugged. “I don’t mind. Sir John?” He shook his head.
Roaming the room, Lewis summarized the previous evening’s events. His recitation was accompanied by suitable exclamations and black looks from his audience, and finally by acclaim for Anna and her scissors.
“How long are they, four inches?” exclaimed Fuller.
“The blades are less than two.”
“Well, gentlemen,” Sir John said, “we have work to do. Remember, if you please, that a man’s future lies in our hands. We may not like that man, he may have offended our sensibilities and debased the very foundations of civilization, yet we have an obligation to listen respectfully and accord him the rights due to a gentleman.”
“He’s no gentleman.” Lewis’s anger rasped in his throat.
“No,” Sir John agreed. “I should have said, the rights due to any man. Under the law.”
Lewis led the way to the kitchens.
Chairs were brought in for Sir John and the vicar. Gideon did not stand as they filed in, Fuller and Eddie bringing up the rear and shutting the door for privacy.
It was hard to read his expression with all the various bruises and swellings. His cravat hid the wound on his neck. The reddened eye that Lewis could see showed no trace of mockery, though one side of his lip curled in an attempt at the familiar sneer.
“Welcome to my parlor.” Gideon’s voice sounded gravelly and raw, as if he had a bad sore throat. It didn’t shut him up. “God, Fuller too? Where’s your saber, captain? Might as well get the execution over, if you lot are my judges. Don’t I get my father in here to speak on my behalf?”
“He declined the honor,” Lewis said. In fact, he’d held up his hands in terror at the thought.
“No executions today, Aubrey,” Sir John said. “We’ve heard Lewis’s story, now tell us yours.”
“My story? You can see it on my face.” He turned on Lewis with a snarl. “I lost that tooth you tried to knock loose in London. I’m still spitting blood.” He demonstrated, aiming a glob for Lewis’s nose, or maybe his cravat. It fell instead on Gideon’s own coat. “And it was not a fair fight, gentlemen, mark that down in the record.”
“Fairness be damned.” Lewis leaned forward, nose to nose, as the fury he thought he’d suppressed raced through his body. “You were raping my wife.”
“Rape.” Gideon snorted. “You can’t rape a strumpet. What is a strumpet but a hole for a man’s prick?”
Redfern coughed. “It’s an interesting interpretation, but—”
Lewis cut him off. “You know better than anyone she’s no strumpet.”
“How’s that? One must start somewhere—your d
evoted Anna was lucky enough to start with me. Does the good vicar know you were cuckolded by your own brother before you ever did more than drool over your lovely, wanton bride?”
Fuller’s arm prevented Lewis from doing more damage. Despite appearances, clearly he’d not done enough last night.
“Oh, don’t hold him back, dear captain. I’d love an excuse to ram that dastard’s face into this nice stone wall.”
“It would hardly help your case,” said Sir John.
“My case?” Gideon whirled to face him. “This isn’t a case. It takes three magistrates, does it not? Little Lew is no magistrate, and last I knew Redfern wasn’t either.”
Sir John blinked up at him mildly. “We can make it a case for the courts, if that’s your preference. You will be held in the prison at York until we can assemble the proper number. A matter of weeks, perhaps months. And the sentence would be no improvement over whatever private arrangement we might make.”
“The sentence,” Gideon muttered. For the first time in his life, Lewis heard a trace of fear in his brother’s voice. “What would it be?”
“Botany Bay, lad. In chains.”
The base color receded from Gideon’s skin, showing his wounds in stark relief. “For mounting a whore?” No swagger, but simple disbelief.
He whirled on Lewis. “It wasn’t even my idea. Blame Father. Did you think I came all the way to this godforsaken hog byre to see you marry that…chit? No, our fond papa wrote to me, begged for my assistance to prevent the blessed union.”
He snorted in derision. “Sorry, did I say begged? Demanded is more like it, or he’d withdraw my allowance.”
“Did he tell you to rape my wife? Of course not. Only you could think that a viable solution.”
“Hell yes, it was my plan. He has all the daring of a dormouse. And I was happy enough to hurt you, God knows. You ruined me, you and that bitch of yours. Why in blazes should you be happy at my expense? I was supposed to get Miss Wedbury, but you spiked that wheel, you self-righteous snot. I won’t see another penny until that pathetic excuse for an old man dies.”
He changed tactics. Pinching Lewis’s coat between his thumb and forefinger, he wheedled. “Let me out of here, Lewis, and I’ll take care of that little matter. Help us both out. You can have the property—what do I want with it? Hell, I’ll leave the country if that’s what you want.”
“Oh, you’ll definitely leave the country. And I’m going to make sure you don’t enjoy it.”
But how to prevent him coming back in a year, or two, or three?
They returned to the drawing room a solemn lot. Lewis prowled around the room as he had so often done.
Sir John stood contemplating Gideon’s portrait. “How did he go so wrong? What brings a man to think such things?”
Finally, he sat with a sigh. “Unfortunately, there’s not a great deal we can do, legally speaking. We could prosecute Gideon for the attempt on Anna, maybe for breach of trust for not marrying her in the first place. It would be hard on her, however, and we risk besmirching the whole family. I frightened him with Botany Bay, as I intended, but he might well go scot-free. If we found other victims, it would strengthen the case. But would they testify?”
“That’s what he’s been counting on all along,” Lewis said. “So, what shall we do with him?”
“Cut off his dick.” It was Fuller, of course, but he wasn’t the only one who’d thought about it. Lewis certainly had.
He pressed his fingers to his sore jaw. “He’d find some other way to pervert and torment.”
“Send him away,” said Redfern. “He’s willing to leave the country, and he doesn’t want the estate. Could he not sign over his rights? Or your father could amend the settlements, give him some money but leave the rest, and the land, to you? I don’t know the legalities.”
Lewis lurched to his feet and stalked to the window. “I don’t want the blasted estate.”
Sir John arrived at his side. “I’m surprised to hear you say that, my boy.”
“It’s not been a happy place.”
“No, but don’t reject the possibility out of hand. You might feel differently by the time your father passes.”
“Yes, and in the meantime I can watch him run it into the ground out of spite.” He heard the bitterness in his voice.
“That should be negotiable, as well. Insist on having a say. Learn to run the place.”
There was much in what Sir John said. He could always sell when the time came, if he was still of the same mind. As a family man, it was too valuable an asset to dismiss. And learning to manage the place sounded oddly appealing. He’d never given it a thought, never had any expectation of owning anything that required more management than a carriage, a horse, and a modest bank account.
“I’ll think about it.” Lewis reached into his pocket. “For now, I made a list of places that might—”
A shout sounded from the hall and the drawing room door slammed open. Eddie gripped the jamb as though he would fall without it, gasping, bleeding copiously from a gash on his forehead. Lewis was moving before he spoke.
“He got away from me. He’s headed up—”
Lewis shoved past him. “Fuller, see to the girls,” he called out, hoarse with dread. He followed the shouts of pursuit, the footsteps pounding up the stairs.
As he reached the landing, he saw the two footmen at the end of the corridor. They ran past his room and shoved through the door that led to the back stairs, the servants’ quarters—and the nursery.
Both his room and Anna’s were open and empty as he flew by. She should be downstairs in the morning room, safe. But Doris…
He burst through the door not five seconds behind the footmen. The stairway was dead quiet.
Doris began to wail.
The nursery door stood wide. The footmen blocked his way, goggle-eyed. He pushed them aside.
Holly hugged the crying child tight against her shoulder. Putnam stood close by, watching Lewis’s mother, who stared down at Gideon’s body on the floor near her feet. She clutched a poker.
As Lewis started forward, her hand shook. The poker fell with a clatter and she pressed her fingers to her mouth. He could see her trembling from ten feet away.
He lowered her into a chair and squatted on the floor beside her, holding her hands between his. They were so cold.
“What happened?”
She looked straight at him, but her eyes were empty.
“He went for the baby.”
Chapter 51
Anna begged, she cried, but Captain Fuller would not let her leave the morning room. Cassie tried to calm her, but her influence was less than soothing.
Sir John joined them after a time, exclaiming about Anna’s face. He sat her down and patted her hand while he told them what little he knew.
“I sat with Eddie, the groom, while he was bandaged for a head injury. He says Gideon was lying down, apparently asleep, when Eddie went in to get something for the cook. Why Gideon didn’t head for the stables, as one might expect, I can’t say, unless he had something in mind other than escape.”
“Revenge,” said Anna. “That’s what he wanted last night. To make Lewis suffer.” She choked on a sob. “He’s gone after Dorrie, don’t you see? They all went upstairs, I heard them. We can all go. Captain Fuller has a sword, for pity’s sake. Please, Sir John, tell him—”
“No, child. We’ll wait for Lewis.”
By the time Lewis arrived, Anna was sure she would go mad. He carried Doris in his arms.
She ran to them, scanning their faces for injury and finding none. He had no smile for her, however, and there were lines in his face she had not seen before.
“She’s hungry,” he said. He set a chair for her and the baby, her back to the rest of them. She was close enough to hear and contribute to the conversation, but she couldn’t see him.
She heard him sit, heaving a sigh that filled her with foreboding. The two most dear to her were unscathed, but he had bad news
yet to tell.
Cassie gave him half a minute before pelting him with questions they must all have longed to ask. “What’s happened, Lewis? Where is he? Did you catch him? Did anyone get hurt?”
“He’s dead. It was all over before I arrived.”
“Arrived where, Lewis? What happened?”
“We chased him all the way upstairs. To the nursery.” Anna felt his gaze on her. She’d been right.
Cassie continued her catechism. “But you said he was dead before you got there. Who killed him?”
Anna awaited his reply, her eyes squeezed shut. Putnam? Or Holly?
“My mother. She hit him in the head with the poker.”
Anna’s eyes flew open. Dear God. How could she… “What was she doing there?”
“She merely went to see the baby, and she—” His voice broke, and he never finished, but Anna knew what he would have said.
She saved Doris’s life. And she killed her own son to do it.
The afternoon passed in a dull haze. Mrs. Aubrey’s maid dosed her with laudanum and put her to bed, and Mr. Redfern sat with her until she fell asleep. Drawn and cheerless, quite unlike his usual self, he took his leave. He would return in the morning.
Lewis and Sir John discussed coroners and inquests while Cassie and Captain Fuller kept Anna company on the other side of the morning room. She held on to Doris as if danger still threatened, even though the monster was dead. They heard the shuffle of feet in the hall, bearing a heavy load, and the room fell silent. The monster, going to be laid out in the…wherever they did that. Anna didn’t want to know. Then the Wedburys went home.
Dinner was served, because life went on. Lewis’s mother was absent, of course, and Lewis and Anna sat close together at one end of the table. Mr. Aubrey grunted in greeting and ate in silent solitude at the other end.
They left the second course untouched and went upstairs to check on Lewis’s mother. They found her in her sitting room with a pot of tea and a piece of toast. She looked up, an expressionless gray shadow. Her eyes were red, but as Anna approached she saw no tracks of tears through her powder. Anna stooped over the arm of her chair to give her an embrace and a gentle kiss on the cheek.