Dair Devil

by Lucinda Brant

  “Grands dieux, another baby on the way. There must be something in the water,” Antonia muttered, then smiled at the happy couple, offering up her congratulations and adding cryptically, “Believe me, Lady Grasby, that feeling of elation of which you speak was only yesterday for me. You have made your family happy, particularly your husband’s grandpapa. I pray you have a son, but a healthy child is what is most wished for. But where is Rory?” she continued in a practiced tone of enquiry, head slightly cocked. “You did not wait to share your most exciting announcement until all the family it could be together?”

  “That’s what I wanted, but—”

  “Under the circumstances, Lord Shrewsbury gauged it best not to wait,” William Watkins stated, cutting off Lord Grasby, and with a swift glance exchanged with Lord Shrewsbury, which alerted Antonia that both men knew more than the Grasbys as to why Rory was not present.

  Antonia’s green eyes widened. “Circumstances, M’sieur Watkins? What circumstances are these that preclude a loved family member from such a momentous occasion as knowing a baby it is on the way? I was told Rory she was not unwell…?”

  “That’s what I said, your Grace,” Grasby agreed with a pout at William Watkins. “After all, Rory will be an aunt, and no one would be more excited than she at the prospect! I don’t see why we couldn’t wait until—”

  “She is well, your Grace,” Lord Shrewsbury stated, cutting off his grandson not only with words, but with a look. He quickly refocused his attention on his visitor, saying with a forced smile. “But you understand why my grandson’s wife could not wait to tell me. Particularly as it is such badly-wanted news. We were about to toast the health of her ladyship and the baby, and would be honored if you would join us.”

  “Of course,” Antonia said, gaze now firmly on the old man. “When Rory she joins us. Please to have her fetched, Edward.”

  “That is not possible, your Grace.”

  “I have a great desire to see my goddaughter. That is why me I am here.”

  “If you returned on the morrow perhaps then—”

  “No. That would not suit me at all. It would be most inconvenient. I am here now. I wish to see her, now.”

  Lord Shrewsbury took a step towards her.

  “Your Grace, as I said, I regret that is not possible.”

  Antonia looked past the old man’s velvet sleeve at Lord and Lady Grasby who were exchanging a puzzled glance, while Mr. William Watkins was uncannily composed.

  “I am certain her brother he would like Rory to join in the toast. Perhaps, Harvel, you would be so good as to fetch your sister?”

  Mention of him by his birth name gave her Lord Grasby’s undivided attention and he said without a second thought, “I do want Rory here when we make the toast, your Grace. She should be here with us. I’ll go and fetch her and we can—”

  “No! I said no,” Lord Shrewsbury snarled through gritted teeth. He took a deep breath and was again his urbane self. “I forbid you or any one to go near her room! Is that understood? Grasby? Is it?”

  Grasby looked from his wife to his brother-in-law, to the Duchess, and then to his grandfather.

  “Why, Grand? Why can’t I see my sister? What’s-what’s going on?”

  “Edward, a word. Alone,” Antonia commanded.

  She was not required to explain herself. Lord and Lady Grasby bowed to rank and silently shuffled from the room. Antonia gave a jerk of her upswept coiffure to the door, and Michelle curtsied and went off to do her bidding. Mr. William Watkins hesitated in the doorway, as if he was somehow excluded from the imperious command because he was also Lord Shrewsbury’s secretary. A haughty lift of Antonia’s arched brows and he bowed and was gone, leaving the Spymaster and the Duchess alone in the heated drawing room.

  “I am too unwell to expend energy on your stretches of the truth, so me, I will come to the point,” Antonia said in her native tongue. “You, Edward, will then do what is best for Rory. Vous me comprenez?”

  “What I understand, Mme la Duchesse,” Shrewsbury replied politely, “is that you are interfering in a family matter that is none of your concern.”

  “Is it not my concern? You vastly underestimate me if you think Monseigneur and I, we have not had an interest in the happiness of those two children left in your care since the tragic deaths of both their parents.”

  At that, the Spymaster lost patience and threw up an arm.

  “For God’s sake, Antonia, why bring up such tragic history on this of all days, when I have just been told I am to be a great-grandfather? Leave my son and his wife to rest in peace, and allow me to enjoy the moment. This is a day for celebration.”

  Antonia took a turn about the small cluttered room, to distance herself from the smell of stale coffee coming from the tray of used coffee things. She unlatched a mullioned window and pushed it open, hoping for fresh air, before turning to face Shrewsbury.

  “I am happy Drusilla she is to give the earldom of Shrewsbury an heir, and me I certainly would like nothing better than to leave your son and his wife to lie peacefully in their graves. But you, Edward, do not deserve your happiness when you have denied Christina’s child hers.”

  “Denied her happiness? I have saved Rory from a lifetime of heartache. I will tell you what I told Fitzstuart: Rory is not equipped to be the center of Society’s attention as the wife of a nobleman, and he is not a fit husband for her. I will not give my blessing to such a union, and I will use every recourse available to me to keep them apart. Rory belongs with me. There is nothing you can say or do that will make me change my mind. It is fixed. So, please, Mme la Duchesse, I appreciate you came here with the best of intentions, and no doubt at Fitzstuart’s behest, but it is to no purpose. You can tell him from me: If he persists, I will have no hesitation in showing Rory White’s betting book as tangible proof his intentions were nothing more than lascivious.”

  “You do know he loves her with his whole heart and soul?”

  Shrewsbury blustered his disbelief. “So he tried to convince me!”

  Antonia’s green eyes narrowed. “You have never been in love, Edward, so how would you know?”

  At that he laughed, as if she had told him something highly amusing. And then his blue eyes went cold and he dared to look her over as a man does a woman he desires but cannot have, gaze finally fixing on her décolletage. “Perhaps not. But I know lust and how to scratch an itch.”

  “That is a pathetic attempt at intimidation, even for you. Lift your eyes from my breasts to my face, Edward, and attend me! You do not frighten me in the least. This is what you will do: Put to the flame that page of White’s betting book with that ridiculous wager scribbled down by a group of silly boys and accepted by an even sillier boy. No doubt in their drunken state they thought it a great lark! You will also give your blessing to Rory marrying the man she loves. If you do not do both these things at once, I will go to my son and tell him what I know about you.”

  “Go to Roxton? Tell him something about-about me that you know?” Shrewsbury’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Oh I do love to watch you when you are fervent! God, you must have exhausted my old friend between the sheets!” He lost his smile. “I won’t give in to either of those foolish demands. Now, please, Mme la Duchesse, won’t you stamp your pretty foot for me, and have done with this melodramatic nonsense.”

  “I do not think I am being melodramatic when I say you greatly respect my son, because he is a man of the highest morals, and it helps he is also the most powerful duke in England. He Roxton also regards you with great affection. You would not want to lose his respect and worse, have him force you to retire from your post as Spymaster General in disgrace.”

  Again Shrewsbury laughed, but this time in disbelief.

  “Dear God, Antonia, are you threatening me? I am more aroused than ever!”

  Antonia pulled a face of disgust and put up her little nose. “I do not threaten. It is what will happen if you do not do as I say.”

  The old
man shook his head and put his chin in his hand, done with the playful banter.

  “By all means go to Roxton with your tales. I think you will find your son’s moral sensibilities will be far more disturbed by Fitzstuart’s behavior and his wager to tup a cripple, than anything you can possibly tell him about me.”

  Antonia took a deep breath and made one last attempt to make Shrewsbury see reason.

  “Edward, you would truly break Rory’s heart than see her happily married to the man she loves, and who loves her?”

  “Yes. It is for her own good.”

  Antonia’s shoulders slumped. But then, resolved, she squared her back and clasped her hands in front of her.

  “Then you leave me no choice but to use the promise Monseigneur made to you, against you. We did not become godparents to Rory because you asked it of us, but because her mother, she asked it of me before her baby it was born. Yes. That surprises you. You forget perhaps that your daughter-in-law she and I are the same age, or would have been had she lived. Our sons, too, were near in age. We met in the park and then began having afternoon tea and would watch our babies play together.”

  It was obvious this was news to the old man.

  “What could you possibly have in common with the bastard daughter of a seamstress? She was from Norway; she could barely write her name, least of all speak English.”

  “I told you. We were of the same age and had baby sons of about the same age. What more than that was needed? We spoke in French. English it was unimportant. J'ai compris! You think as a duchess I should have spurned her because of her low origins? She was married to your son and heir, and as such was Lady Grasby. What’s more, she had the sweetest temperament and was the kindest person, just like her daughter Rory. They have a great look of each other, although Christina she was prettier. When we strolled up the Mall we would often be mistaken for twins, such was our likeness. We would sometimes wear similar clothes to make it so, and giggle behind our fans as people looked at us and looked a second time…” Antonia made a motion of dismissal with her hand and brought her emotions under control before such bittersweet memories got the better of her. “None of that is important now. What is, is Rory’s happiness, and that I know the truth: Christina took her own life because she could no longer live with the shame of what she allowed you to do to her.”

  There was an imperceptible pause, and Antonia thought she saw Shrewsbury’s arrogant façade crack but he quickly regained mastery of himself and gave a bluff response.

  “Me? She threw herself off a balcony just hours after giving birth to her baby daughter. What mother leaves a newborn to fend for itself? And she made her six-year-old son motherless into the bargain!”

  “That is fact, but it is not why she killed herself. Your son, he too, took his own life, out of grief, because he loved his wife, and from shame, because he knew you, his father, was a depraved monster, and he did nothing to stop your abuse of his wife.”

  “Depraved? Monster?” Shrewsbury blustered. His smile was supercilious. “Fanciful moonshine! I’ll grant grief sent my weak-willed son mad. Any amount of unsubstantiated stuff and nonsense comes out of the mouth of the insane. None of my daughter-in-law’s pronouncements bear close scrutiny.”

  “But Monseigneur was not insane, and he never spoke nonsense of any kind, thus what he told me, I believe. He thought you a monster, too. But he wanted to spare Christina’s children the torment of knowing what their grandfather had done to their mother, and the truth about their parents’ deaths. And he could not let social ruin befall you because it would befall them, if the ugly reality of what you had done ever became public. So M’sieur le Duc he agreed to take your loathsome secret to his grave.” Antonia dared to smile slightly. “But before he did, he told me.”

  “Told you? I don’t believe you!”

  “M’sieur le Duc he never promised you he would not tell me. Which he did, because he did not trust you, and he knew such knowledge would be useful should England’s Spymaster General decide to become an enemy of my family.” She frowned. “He did not like telling me. It pained him to have to recount your unconscionable behavior, but he knew I would rather know as not. He also knew it would not change my feelings for my goddaughter. Although, it did forever change how I view you. Monseigneur he was clever in telling me because it meant that if some day I needed to protect my family from harm, to protect them from you, I had the perfect weapon in your secret. And now that time, it has come, Edward. I intend to protect my family, and you will now do as requested or I will go to my son.”

  Suddenly the old man looked ill. Yet he made one last attempt to call Antonia’s bluff.

  “My old school friend would never betray a friend’s trust, not for anyone.”

  Antonia gave a little sigh.

  “Again I say, it is obvious, you have never been in love. When you love someone, you will do everything and anything in your power to ensure their happiness and well-being.” She came away from the window. “So now, me I will fetch my cousin, and you, you will fetch your family and Rory, and we will all join in a toast to Lady Grasby’s breeding, and to the forthcoming marriage between your granddaughter and my cousin.”

  Before she made it to the door, Shrewsbury caught her by the upper arm and spun her to face him. She was so shocked to be manhandled that she looked up into his face unable to speak or move.

  “Perhaps I will snap your pretty neck, here and now,” he breathed down at her. “Then all those petty little secrets locked away in that beautiful head will be gone forever, and you can join your precious Monseigneur sooner rather than later.”

  “To do so would not save you, M’sieur,” Antonia replied, his proximity and hot breath making her instantly nauseous.

  She pulled her arm free and stepped away, to put distance between them, brushing down the delicate tiered lace flounce of her sleeve, as if cleaning off the stench of him. It also served to give her a moment to compose herself. After all, he had just threatened to kill her. But a wave of nausea brought everything back into clear focus. She knew she must get through this interview for the sake of her cousin and her goddaughter. She also wanted to end this interview as quickly as possible. She forced her morning sickness away, and said in a clear, strong voice,

  “I know you too well, and of what you are capable. A sealed letter sits propped on my dressing table. It is directed to my son. I have instructed it be sent to M’sieur le Duc d’Roxton in the event something untoward befalls his maman. My servants—”

  “Clever!”

  “—they will not fail in their duty. Kill me and you will be ruined. So, too, your grandson and his family, and to the everlasting sorrow of your daughter—”

  “You mean granddaughter.”

  “Do not play me for a fool, M’sieur! I meant what I said. Rory is your granddaughter, but she is also your daughter. N'est-ce pas? You forced your attentions on her mother, your daughter-in-law, and through threats and intimidation you violated her and the sanctity of her marriage. You are a monster and a defiler and were it not for my goddaughter, I would have nothing to do with you, ever!”

  Shrewsbury staggered back, as if her words had struck him hard across the face. Shocked to hear it so baldly stated, and with such vitriol, he was momentarily lost for words. Antonia gave him no quarter.

  “Christina she pleaded with you time and again to stop your visits to her apartment. But you would not stop. You used the pretext of visiting your grandson. But that was a ruse. You sent your son, her husband, on a pointless diplomatic mission to The Hague so you could spend uninterrupted time in her bed. She endured your abuse for seven long months, and it was only when you had impregnated her did you have your son recalled from the Continent for fear the truth, it would out—”

  “No! That is not true! I was never happier when Christina told me she was carrying my child. It was what we both wanted—”

  “Liar.” Antonia stared at him as if he was mad. “Of course she wanted the child. She thought
pregnancy would stop you! And do not speak to me of your-your happiness. You broke God’s law passed unto Moses by taking your daughter-in-law as your mistress, and you have the gall to tell me to my face that you were happy you impregnated her? You—disgust me!”

  Shrewsbury had heard enough. He held up a hand, as if this would stop Antonia taunting him with the truth. He had thought that episode in his life long buried under two decades of living. He had almost convinced himself it had never happened. He held to the truth Rory was his granddaughter; that she was also his daughter he had carefully suppressed. To have his carnal cravings for his daughter-in-law and their consequences baldly stated to his face made him suddenly ill.

  He, the keeper of other people’s vile little secrets, who had no conscience in using those secrets to further his ends as Spymaster General, had been bested at his own game, and by the widow of his best friend. In a moment of supreme weakness he had confided in the old Duke of Roxton. He had felt better for having purged his conscience, little realizing that his own vile little secret would be tucked away, but always at the ready should it ever be needed. His shoulders curled in on themselves knowing that day had come. Yet, despite recognizing he had been defeated, enough arrogant self-belief remained that he tried to justify his behavior.

  “You must understand. Christina bewitched me. I knew it was wrong. I was ashamed, but there was nothing—nothing—I could do to stop myself! Men are but weak creatures against divine beauty. It is a-a sickness—”