Notorious Deception

by Adrienne Basso

  “This deed must be very important for you to part with your new carriage, even if only for a short time,” Tristan said and leaned forward eagerly in his chair. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense any longer, Derek. Let me see the damn thing.”

  Silently, Derek handed the document into Tristan’s outstretched hand, and then he sat back in his chair. His keen eyes never left his friend’s face because he wanted to witness Tristan’s initial reaction, hoping it would be as astonished as his own had been.

  Tristan let out a long, low whistle as he scanned the page and read the signature of the seller, clearly written at the bottom of the document. There was no mention of either the Earl of Harrowby or Giles Rutledge, but the signature of the previous owner was distinctly written in a firm, bold hand: Diana Maria Crawford Rutledge.

  “At least we know she was telling us the truth,” Tristan said.

  Derek merely grunted and shot Tristan a quelling look. “We know nothing of the kind, Tris,” he insisted. “All this proves is that Diana owned this inn at one time and has since sold it. The name Rutledge is not an uncommon one. It in no way indicates that she was ever married to my cousin.”

  “What about the tavern keeper? Could he tell you anything about Diana?”

  Derek squirmed uncomfortably in his seat for a moment. “Actually, that is where the rub is. It seems the innkeeper never met the previous owner. His only contact was with the owner’s solicitor.”

  Tristan gave Derek a boyish grin. “And would, by any chance, this solicitor be Mr. Jonathan Marlow?”

  “The very same,” Derek reluctantly admitted as he absently fingered his wine goblet. “But you needn’t look so smug, Tris. It still proves nothing.”

  “I disagree, Derek. ’Tis obvious the solicitor is the connection. Too bad Mr. Marlow is not available to answer our questions.”

  “That does seem to be rather convenient, doesn’t it?” Derek said with a wry smile. “It puts me of the opinion that Diana and Mr. Marlow are somehow working together in this matter.”

  “For what possible purpose, Derek?”

  The earl raised an eyebrow in surprise, displaying his amazement at his friend’s naivete. “For the purpose of extorting money, Tristan. What else?”

  Tristan frowned and shook his head. “I find it extremely difficult to believe Diana is an adventuress. She just does not fit the part.”

  “Why not?” he shot back. “Just because she is beautiful does not mean she is also honorable. Your head has always been too easily turned by a pretty face, Tris. I know only too well how a lovely exterior can conceal a faithless heart.”

  Tristan grimaced. “Can you not finally put Charity to rest, Derek? It has been almost two years,” he said, his voice low and sympathetic.

  “I was under the impression I had done just that,” Derek murmured and curled his lips cynically. “Charity would probably find it vastly entertaining to know how her memory occasionally haunts me.”

  “Charity is a fool, Derek,” Tristan stated vehemently. “She should have never chosen Winchester over you.”

  “She might finally be having second thoughts about it, Tris. After all, I am now an earl, and Winchester is merely a baron,” he responded mockingly.

  “You are well rid of her,” Tristan insisted as he had countless other times.

  This was not the first occasion he and Tristan had discussed Miss Charity Worthington, and even after two years, the memories still wounded Derek. He had yet to understand how he, a normally sensible and levelheaded man, had become totally besotted with Charity, seemingly overnight. Hapless fool that he was, he had allowed his happiness to overflow when the lady had claimed to return his affection with equal ardor, and with pride and confidence, he had pressed his suit to Charity’s father. Baron Worthington, a fair and unpretentious man, had looked with favor upon Derek’s offer of marriage. Although untitled, Derek had a long and noble lineage; moreover, although he was a man of modest means, he possessed ambition. He had a proven head for business and a strong, determined character. Derek knew that he was exactly the sort of man that the baron sought for his youngest daughter.

  Charity, it appeared, had had other ideas. When Derek had informed her of their impending marriage, she was clearly horrified. She had no intention of throwing herself away on an untitled man, no matter how well turned out. She demanded, in a voice full of spite and venom, that he immediately withdraw his suit so she would be free to peruse other offers of marriage.

  Stunned, Derek had complied, still reeling from the shock. How could he have so grievously misjudged the angelic beauty? But Charity’s scheming knew no bounds. After Derek reluctantly broke the agreement he had made with her father, Charity immediately circulated the rumor that Derek had jilted her, rallying the sympathies of the ton around her and turning respectable society against Derek. Charity had assumed an air of wounded fragility and shy innocence that successfully awakened the chivalrous instincts of Lord Winchester. They were married a month after Charity had refused Derek, amid all the pomp and circumstance Derek had come to despise.

  Though his love for Charity had been of a short duration, it had had a profound and lasting effect on Derek’s attitude toward women. He vowed that he would never again allow himself to be so easily taken in by a pretty face. He now avoided any entanglements with unmarried women of society and instead confined his relationships with women who were willing to engage in brief sexual liaisons.

  Although reluctant to enter into marriage, Derek placed duty and honor above all things. Since he had assumed the title, it was his responsibility to provide an heir. He planned on doing that at the appropriate time, already deciding the qualities he would seek in a mate. She would be plain, but fair, young, no more than 18 years old, of a sweet temperament, and, he hoped, fertile.

  Once the obligation of producing an heir had been fulfilled, Derek was fully prepared to conduct his life separately from his wife. He would always treat his wife with the utmost respect and dignity. She could retire to the family estate in the country, where he would make periodic obligatory visits. In his mind, the marriage was to be very proper and civilized. That he might be missing something essential in his life was not an idea Derek would consider. Experience had taught him the need to be prudent and avoid the unpredictable entanglements of love.

  Derek felt Tristan’s blue eyes upon him, and he cast his friend a measured glance. “I’m afraid I am becoming melancholy,” he said mockingly. “Forgive me. You are right, of course, Tris. Charity is merely a name attached to an unfortunate incident in my past. And she should be treated accordingly. I need to focus my attentions on the mysterious Diana Rutledge or whatever her real name is. Drink up, old boy. I’ve a sudden urge to have a chat with our little adventuress.”

  “What the devil are you doing in here?” A sharp female voice pulled Diana out of her blissful state of sleep, and she awoke groggily. She sat up in her chair, stretching her stiff, aching muscles.

  “I am sorry,” Diana replied in a small voice. “I must have fallen asleep when I stopped reading. Although I do enjoy Lord Byron’s poetry, I must confess it generally does have this effect on me.”

  Caroline, sitting primly on the edge of her bed, narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Diana. “Do you mean to say that it was you reading to me this afternoon? Not my sister-in-law Alyssa?”

  “I stayed with you today,” Diana said, watching Caroline intently. “Mrs. Roget thought it best you were not left alone.”

  Caroline turned her head away. “I am perfectly fine now,” she said briskly. “Thank you for your concern.”

  Diana acknowledged the other woman’s remarks with a slight nod of her head. She had the uncanny sense that Tristan’s wife was not at all the shrew she appeared to be, but it was obvious she was uncomfortable in Diana’s company. Diana was spared from making any additional comments by a sudden knock on the door.

  “Come,” Caroline called out.

  “Lord Tristan is home,” the young maid
said when she entered the room. “And he is requesting that madam join him in the front salon at once.”

  At the mention of Tristan, Caroline’s entire face lit up, and she smiled a genuine smile. “Inform him that I shall be down directly, Gwen.”

  “Oh, no.” The maid blushed with confusion. “Not you my lady.” She lifted her finger and pointed directly at Diana. “The other madam.”

  Caroline’s eyes widened in shock and she dropped her gaze dejectedly to her lap. Her hands shook visibly as she systematically ran her fingers over the wrinkles on the skirt of her gown.

  “Leave us, Gwen,” Caroline eventually whispered.

  Once they were alone, Caroline turned to Diana. “You may inform my husband that I will not be down for dinner this evening,” she stated in an icy tone.

  “Nonsense,” Diana insisted, determined to put an end to all the misunderstandings. For whatever reason, Caroline had decided that Diana represented a threat to her, and Diana wanted to dispose of that incorrect notion at once. She had no intention of allowing Caroline to spend the evening alone, brooding in her room. “You will come down to the front salon with me. Since your maid is off this afternoon, I shall be pleased to assist you in changing your gown. ”

  Caroline stared hard at Diana. “Why are you being so kind to me?” she asked in a low voice.

  “May I speak bluntly?” Diana asked, and before Caroline could respond, she said, “I am well aware that my presence here has caused a problem between you and your husband, and for that I am truly sorry. Tristan has been nothing but kind to me, and I would not want to repay that kindness by upsetting you. I have no idea why I have been summoned downstairs, but I see no reason why you cannot be present. In order to avoid any additional misunderstandings, I think it would be best if you accompany me. Don’t you agree?”

  Caroline showed her astonishment at Diana’s remarks. “Tristan told me a wild tale about you last night,” Caroline said. “I didn’t believe a word of it.”

  “Neither would I, if I were in your place,” Diana said, not in the least bit offended. “I am hoping your husband has uncovered some information that can help me sort out the mess my life has suddenly become.”

  Without further comment, Caroline rose from the bed. Diana breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she had won Caroline over, at least temporarily. With Diana’s able assistance, Caroline changed her gown relatively quickly. After taking one last look in the mirror over her dressing table, Caroline left the bedchamber, Diana trailing behind.

  Diana saw the surprise register on Tristan’s face as she and Caroline entered the salon side by side. After a moment’s hesitation, he strode across the room, meeting them halfway, an utterly charming smile on his handsome face. He brought his wife’s hand to his lips in a soft, seductive manner, and Diana felt like an intruder as she witnessed his welcome. Caroline’s breathing quickened noticeably when Tristan caressingly held her hand, but she greeted her husband cautiously.

  Diana muttered a hasty and nearly incoherent greeting. She moved to the far side of the room to allow Tristan and Caroline a few moments of privacy. No matter what difficulties the couple faced, it was obvious that they loved each other deeply.

  Self-consciously, Diana stepped away from the embracing couple, colliding directly with a large, unmovable object. At first Diana assumed she had backed into a piece of furniture, but when she turned around, she gasped loudly with surprise. Standing directly in front of her, with his magnificent cold, blue eyes sparkling down at her, was the Earl of Harrowby. And he was not smiling.

  Chapter Five

  The earl took a step forward, placing himself even closer to Diana. She felt her cheeks become warm, and she was instantly aware of a queer excitement charging the air. She favored the earl with a nervous smile and an almost inaudible greeting, unconsciously taking several steps back from him.

  The earl’s proximity was unnerving. Diana felt the power he exuded with his very stance, his every movement, and she found herself frightened by the intensity of her reaction to him. He fairly took her breath away, Diana admitted to herself. She did not remember him being so broad of shoulder, so lean and muscular. Of their own volition, her eyes drifted down the length of him, and she admired the way his golden buckskins tightly hugged his muscular legs. He smelled good, Diana realized with surprise, like leather and spices and fresh air.

  The earl coughed and flecked a bit of imaginary dust from his immaculate coat of navy-blue superfine.

  The earl’s cough ended Diana’s scrutiny. Stiffening her spine, she returned his stare boldly, refusing to be intimidated by his forbidding demeanor. He met her gaze directly, a mere hint of amusement lurking in the depth of his eyes.

  “Good evening, madam,” Derek said.

  “My lord,” Diana replied, dipping a graceful curtsy. For an instant, she thought he might take her hand, and she fought down a rising sense of panic at the idea of touching him. “I was not expecting to see you this evening. ”

  “Oh,” he responded, raising an eyebrow. “I hope you are not distressed by my presence, madam. We do have unfinished business that demands our attention.”

  Neither his tone nor his manner suggested he was overly concerned about Diana’s feelings. She disliked his condescending attitude and felt no compulsion to hide that fact. She eyed him irritably.

  “Then I sincerely hope, my lord,” Diana stated, in a voice dripping with insincere sweetness, “that our business will be swiftly concluded, so you may take your leave. I would not, in any way, wish to inconvenience you.”

  She could see she had sparked his ire, but before he could answer her, Tristan intervened. “Would you prefer we left the two of you alone to conclude your business?”

  Both Derek and Diana turned to Tristan at the same time, answering in unison, “No!”

  Regaining her composure first, Diana responded in a calmer voice. “I would prefer that both you and

  Caroline stay, Tristan.” She turned to the earl and said in a challenging tone, “That is unless you have any objections, my lord?”

  “Of course I have no objection, Diana,” Derek said in a smooth, charming voice.

  Diana raised her chin disapprovingly at his caressing voice and familiar use of her given name, but she held her tongue.

  “Come, let us all sit down and be comfortable,” Caroline said. “Tristan, pour some drinks for everyone. Sherry for Diana and myself please.”

  Diana deliberately avoided the matching gold brocade love seats, heading directly for a small, gilt-edged chair near the fire. She folded her hands demurely in her lap, waiting soundlessly while Tristan poured and served the drinks. After completing his duties as host, Tristan sat on the settee next to Caroline. The earl, Diana noted with irritation, chose to remain standing.

  “Let us begin,” Derek said commandingly. The earl took a long sip of his drink and began talking. “As I have already informed Tristan, I spent the better part of last night and this morning searching through my cousin’s papers. I found no reference to you, madam.” He glared pointedly at Diana, and she unflinchingly met his stare.

  “That is hardly surprising, my lord,” Diana countered, “given the fact that we have now established Giles had two wives simultaneously. I strongly doubt he kept a copy of our marriage lines in an unsecured location.”

  “Perhaps,” Derek conceded. “Would you be so kind as to tell me, Diana, the name of your London solicitor?”

  Diana gave him a puzzled look and shrugged her shoulders. It seemed an odd question, but not one she was adverse to answering. “Mr. Thomas Bartlett handled all the affairs of my late father. I have not required the use of his services since my father’s death. He would, however, be the man I would call upon if needed.”

  “What about Mr. Jonathan Marlow?” the earl inquired.

  Diana paused for a few moments, trying to place the name. Shaking her head, she replied slowly, “I am not acquainted with a Mr. Marlow.”

  “Are you quite sure?”
/>
  “Yes, of course.”

  The earl paced back and forth in front of her, his handsome features filled with suspicion. Pulling a piece of paper from his inside breast coat pocket, he presented it to Diana with a flourish.

  “It appears, madam,” he said in a scornful tone, “that you have made your first and last mistake. The current owner of the Red Boar Inn conducted the purchase of the tavern with the solicitor of the previous owner. The solicitor in question was Jonathan Marlow. And the previous owner, if my eyes do not deceive me, was you, madam.”

  Diana reached for the paper silently, eyeing the earl dubiously. She quickly scanned the contents of the deed and read the signature. Her lips curled up slightly in a mocking grin. “’Tis a very interesting document, my lord,” she remarked cynically. “But I am afraid I must inform you, it is not worth the paper it is written upon.” Diana leaned back in her chair and took a dainty sip of her sherry.

  “I received that document from the owner himself, madam. This property was among those you demanded the deeds for. As you can plainly see, I am merely fulfilling your request. I have produced the appropriate deed for you. The problem is, however, that you no longer own the establishment.”

  “That is not my signature,” Diana stated in a flat, emotionless voice. “And I have never heard of Mr. Jonathan Marlow until this very moment.”

  When the earl threw up his hands in exasperation, Tristan intervened. Coming forward, he reached for the deed in Diana’s outstretched hand. “May I?” he asked, and at her nod, he took the paper from her. “Are there any other documents available so we may compare the signatures?”

  Diana turned her head up sharply at Tristan. The earl’s mistrust was to be expected, but somehow she thought Tristan was on her side. He gave her an apologetic smile and said, “It is the only way we can exonerate you, Diana.”