Strange. She searched the room in vain. Mayhap she had left it on the bed? Diana drew back the heavy velvet and gasped.
Reggie lay fully clothed atop the counterpane, reclining back on a mountain of pillows. He raked her with an insolent gaze. “Looking for something, my dear? It must have been an eventful night indeed. I’ve waited for you for hours.”
“Eventful? Hardly.” She laughed, her mind scrambling for an alibi. “I was reading in the library and fell asleep in the chair.”
“Without your night rail?” He held up the cotton gown with an evil smirk. “Even if I was stupid enough to believe you, your appearance betrays you. Look at yourself, Diana! You look like some Covent Garden whore.”
She stole a glance to the mirror over the mantel and knew that it was true. Her lips were swollen, her hair mussed beyond redemption, and most telling of all was the faint purple shadow of a love bite on her neck. She realized she had no defense, but neither did he have the right to accuse her. Her initial shock turned to fury. “Does it really matter to you, Reggie where I spent my night?” she hissed. “As I certainly know where you have been spending yours.”
His gaze narrowed. He abruptly sat up and seized her arm, squeezing as if it were clamped in a vice. “Do you now?” His eyes glittered dangerously. “And just where might that be?”
“Must I say it aloud?”
He paled at the realization she had discovered his well-guarded secret. “You have no proof of anything,” he spat. “Besides, where I bed and with whom is my own damned business.”
“Your own business? But I am your wife! You made vows to me!”
“As did you, Diana. No man likes to be made a fool. So I ask again—where were you last night?
“I already told you.”
“Don’t bother lying again as I already have all the proof I need of your iniquity. I only marvel that any man could stir you to passion. Or were you simply moved by desperation? Did you hope to bargain with him by playing his whore? Did you please him well, Diana? I truly hope so, as your tight little quim might be the only way to regain what was lost.”
His words stunned her. She regarded him with a blank stare. “Bargain? Wh-what are you talking about?”
“That DeVere has the deed to Palmerston Hall. Did you not realize?”
Her mind reeled. “How can that be? You lost it in gaming at Clay Hill.”
“I do not know precisely how it came about. I can only conclude that DeVere bought my vowels from O’Kelly.”
“You lie! Why would he do such a thing?”
“How the bloody hell would I know? I first thought he intended to ruin me to claim the estate, but what is a meager five hundred acres and run-down manor house to such a man? I can only presume then that he desired the stud, but whatever his motives, all seems now to have miraculously worked to my advantage.”
“How do you mean? How can any of this be to your advantage?” she asked, her heart racing.
“Simple, my dear heart. You are lawfully my wife, my legal property, whether I choose to use you as such or not. If DeVere desires that which is mine, he must pay for the privilege.”
“You would pimp me like a whoremonger? You bastard!” she screamed.
He smiled. “Needs must when the devil drives and all that rot. I have needs, and that devil DeVere happens to be an exceedingly wealthy man. Don’t look so put out, my dear. After all, it was you who provided the perfect solution to our little problem.”
“And what is that? Your perfect little solution? Extortion?” she asked between clenched teeth.
“Such an unpalatable word. I would rather call it a discreet and amicable arrangement. But if DeVere does not wish to come to such an agreement, he can pay much more dearly in the courts of law. If I recall correctly, Lord Grosvenor received compensation to the tune of ten thousand pounds when Lady Grosvenor bestowed her favors on the Duke of Cumberland. By my calculation,” Reggie continued nonchalantly, “your betrayal should be worth at least that much, mayhap even twenty thousand.”
“You have no proof of anything.”
“But there you are wrong. I have sworn statements from two witnesses who have seen you alone with DeVere. That is all the proof I need for a court of law. You may as well go back to his bed, Diana, for I swear you will both pay dearly for it either way. As for his possession of the deed, if you still don’t believe me, just ask DeVere yourself.” He gave her a blithe shrug and pulled out his timepiece. “Although your little tête-a-tête may need to wait until a more opportune time. The races begin in less than two hours. I must say I am much relieved to know my fate no longer rests on the horserace. Damned unpredictable, those animals can be.”
Reggie rang for the maid. “You really must do something about your appearance, Diana.” His face devoid of expression, he reached a hand to her neck tracing the evidence of DeVere’s passion with his fingertip. “Might I suggest you wear your hair down today?”
“Shut up, Reggie! Just shut up!” Diana jerked away with a look of abhorrence. “Leave me now,” she commanded. “We have nothing more to say.”
“For the moment,” he agreed. His laughter rang with a hellish echo as he departed through the connecting door.
Diana was trembling, shaken to the depths of her being. She bathed and dressed in a speechless daze, myriad questions searing her brain. How did DeVere come by the deed to Palmerston Hall and why? Was he confederated with O’Kelly all along to ruin Reggie? But why, when they were barely acquainted with one another? If he had acquired the deed, what did he intend to do with it? Was it for the stud, as Reggie suggested? Their horses were the only thing she could think of that might hold the slightest appeal to DeVere, the stud being the only thing of value.
Unless? Diana recalled their very first meeting but immediately shook the notion away. It was outrageously vain to think he might have intended to use the deed to get her into his bed. If that was his intent, would he not have mentioned it when she first sought his help?
Now Reggie thought to turn the tables. Although he believed he had the upper hand, his avarice would surely be his undoing. Diana knew DeVere would never submit to blackmail, yet there was nothing she could do to prevent a legal action. A judgment could help her secure a separation and thus freedom from the travesty of her marriage…but at what cost?
She descended to breakfast with a feeling of dread at the thought of meeting DeVere so soon after sharing his bed. Although only knowing each other a matter of days, they had parted that morning on terms of intimacy she had never experienced with anyone. It was both breathtaking and terrifying. They had become lovers, but then Reggie’s revelations had followed. Diana still wasn’t sure what to think or how to react.
As it turned out, there was no opportunity at all to speak of the concerns that plagued her or to warn him about Reggie. DeVere and Hew had broken their fast early and left almost directly afterward. In the few minutes they might have had to talk, Edward and Annalee had been present.
DeVere’s reaction upon seeing her, however, the secret smile he bestowed, melted her insides and promised more of what they had shared the night before. It also told her he knew nothing of Reggie’s blackmail. She was partly relieved. If only she could find a way to speak with him first.
***
A crowd of hundreds were gathered along the racecourse when Diana, Ned and Annalee arrived on the down. They took their places apart from the rabble upon the raised dais erected for the owners and aristocrats. Her spine stiffened when the Duchess of Beauclerc joined them on the arm of the Earl of March.
Edward bowed to them both. “Duchess. And so good to see you, my Lord March,” he addressed the earl and then introduced Annalee and Diana, both of whom dipped in a brief show of obeisance. “Have you a horse in the running?” Edward asked the noted turf man.
“Aye,” said the earl. “A fine mare in the second race.”
“Is that so?” said Diana. “Then I promise you a great challenge as I also have a horse in the runni
ng.”
The earl regarded her with a rapt interest that Diana knew had little to do with the horses. “Do you, indeed, madam? Then I wish you the best of luck.” Diana was certain she could hear Caroline’s teeth grinding as the Lord March’s gaze lingered much longer than proper.
“Ah! There is Lord Derby and Elizabeth Ferren. William, dearest, we must go and greet them.” The duchess tugged on her companion’s silk sleeve.
“As you wish, my sweet,” answered the earl, though Diana noted his reluctance.
“Lady Chambers. Baroness,” the duchess awarded them a brittle smile as the pair departed.
“It didn’t take her long to find a replacement,” said Diana between her own tightly smiling teeth.
“She’ll get nowhere with that one if she seeks a second ducal coronet,” Edward replied in an undertone. “Although he’s next in line for the dukedom of Queensberry, March is a notorious roué with a penchant for Italian opera singers.”
“No doubt she only wished to pique DeVere,” said Annalee.
“Then the effort is truly wasted.” Edward laughed outright. “He was never happier to send a mistress on her way.”
Their moment of jollity was disrupted when Reggie joined them after presumably having consulted with his lover-jockey. His smug expression suggested he had confronted DeVere as well, but also told Diana that he was yet unaware his race-fixing scheme had been discovered. Though she tried to ignore him altogether, his presence alone set her teeth on edge.
“When do the mares run?” Diana asked Edward.
“The stallions will be up first,” he answered. “They are to run a single, two-mile heat, followed by the geldings and then the mares. The top three horses will then run against one another in the fourth race for the grand prize.”
Three thousand. Enough money to get her home back, but not her life. Diana realized with a jolt that her life would never be the same. She stole a sidelong look at Reggie, wishing he would just disappear. Perhaps she should just give him the winnings? Part of her wanted him to run off with his lover as he and Johnson had planned. She would then have grounds for her own legal action, but what if he refused? If he had determined to press matters with DeVere, it would be impossible for him to abscond with his lover.
No, surely he would wait and play out his hand now that he thought he held the trump card. If he carried out his threat as she presumed he would, where would that leave her? Her name would be besmirched in the broadsheets. The scandal would be unbearable. Yet she was even willing to live with a ruined name if she could only obtain a separation from Reggie, but deep down, she knew he would never agree.
To do so would give her freedom—the chance to move on with her life and the option to remarry one day. Though that option was furthest from her mind, it was one of very few alternatives available to any woman in reduced circumstances—to remarry or to live as a dependent relative. Both filled her with dismay. Unbidden, a third unthinkable alternative flashed through her mind, along with images of last night that filled her with an empty ache.
One night in his bed, and she was forever changed.
Diana found herself in an inexplicable, and moreover, inextricable tangle. The only certainty was that her mare would run in the race today. Perhaps she would take the money and simply disappear. She clung to that thought as desperately as to a lifeline.
Although her mind was still preoccupied, she forced herself to return to the present, back to the races. She focused on the leading grooms as they brought out the first group of horses and the jockeys who were mounting up.
“Where is Lord DeVere?” she finally asked, curious that he had yet to show when his stallion, Prometheus, was about to run.
“Ah! There he is!” Annalee pointed. “In the red and black silks. And Hew in the red and gold.”
“DeVere is riding?” Diana asked.
“Did you not know?” Edward replied. “Says his man Pratt took ill this morning. That’s the third last minute change in riders, by the by.”
“What do you mean?” Reggie demanded.
“Hew was to jockey Prometheus, but now it seems he’s to ride Diana’s mare, Cartimandua, and O’Kelly replaced his main jockey as well. I hear he dismissed the man on the spot not an hour ago.”
Reggie’s eyes bulged as he squinted at the field, and Diana thought his color resembled something close to puce.
Diana recalled DeVere’s dead calm in learning of Reggie’s scheme to fix the race and almost laughed aloud. So that’s what he was up to when he said he had matters in hand. Devious devil, indeed! He had managed to relieve the very jockeys Reggie had attempted to bribe. Although his action did nothing to guarantee the outcome in anyone’s favor, it certainly evened up the playing field. Reggie had been a fool to challenge a man like DeVere and an even greater one if he thought to threaten him.
“The mare? What the devil is she doing on the field?” Reggie demanded, his bugged-eyed gaze tracking the horses and jockeys.
“I have entered her,” Diana answered him with a defiant thrust of her chin.
“The hell you say!”
“Don’t worry, you need not fear for your interests,” said Ned, misinterpreting Reggie’s rage. “Hew is one of the best riders out there.”
“But if they each win their trial, Hew and DeVere would challenge one another,” Diana remarked.
“It would, indeed, make for an interesting contest.” Edward laughed. “Hew desires nothing more than to defeat his brother who has taunted him with a promise to buy his coveted colors in the Seventeenth Dragoons if Hew can rout him. Lord Reggie, did you not also have a horse in the running?” Ned asked. “It looks like they are about to commence.”
Reggie rose to his feet with a strangled sound. “Johnson and Centurion should have been out there already! Tell them to hold the races, Edward. I must see what’s amiss!” Reggie departed the stands at a panicked dash.
***
“There now, ye beastie,” the gravelly voice crooned to the big bay stallion nervously pacing inside his box.
“You there! Who the devil are you?” Lord Reginald demanded of the stranger. “And what are you doing with my horse? Centurion should be out on the field already. Where’s my man, Johnson?”
“Johnson?” The large man in black turned to face him, revealing a crooked nose and a scarred face. “Is he your chap then, guvn’r?”
“He’s my jockey, not that it’s any business of yours,” Reggie snapped.
“Is that so?” The man released the horse and began picking his teeth with a silver toothpick. “Well it seems yer man Johnson has come by a little accident.” He nodded to the corner of the box where the groom lay face down in the straw. “These stallions be unruly, dangerous beasts, ye ken. ‘Tis a lucky thing I come along when I did or ‘e might well ha’e been trampled to death.”
Reggie entered the horse’s stall with a tortured cry. “Dear God! Jemmie! My poor lad!” Rolling the jockey onto his back, he discovered Johnson’s face pulverized beyond recognition. Raising Johnson’s head onto his lap, he screeched, “Don’t just stand there like an imbecile! Get a physician!”
“Why I’ll be ‘appy to oblige you, guv—just as soon as I take care of me own unfinished business.”
Reggie blanched, his body trembled. “You did this! Who are you? Who sent you?”
“Who am I?” The man gave him a black-toothed smile. “Let’s just say I’m a special messenger.”
Comprehension and stark terror simultaneously washed over Reggie. “How much did he pay you?” he asked. “I’ll double it!”
“Will you now?” The stranger scratched his grizzled chin. “Show me your gold, and mayhap we can strike a bargain.”
“I haven’t any on my person,” Reggie said in a voiced strangled by panic as the man advanced upon him. “But I can provide surety.”
“Can ye, indeed?”
“The horse! Take the horse. He’s a champion, worth at least five hundred guineas.”
The stran
ger stepped back to appraise the animal. “Aye, sure enough. But trouble is govn’r, a horse like this ‘un be none too easy to fence. Besides, our mutual acquaintance be a gent with a far reach.” He doffed his hat and shook his greasy head with a mocking bow. “I fear I must decline yer generous offer.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
“Ah, ‘tis nothing personal-like, yer lardship. The question is what our friend wants. Yer a ruined man and far worse, a cheat. Our friend don’t like to be crossed and can’t abide a cheat. Now was you a gentl’man proper and like to conduct yerself as such, ‘e might hae trusted ye to take the gentl’manly solution on yer own, but being that yer a craven piece of shite, I’ve been asked to lend me assistance.” A pistol appeared from beneath the black coat. The stranger consulted his time piece. “They be starting the race any moment now. So, yer lardship, I ask what is your pleasure? Through the mouf or the ears?”
Lord Reggie answered with an incomprehensible whimper. As the muzzle entered his mouth, he suffered the final humiliation of the warm wet trickle of urine down the thighs of his breeches.
To those out on the down, the report of fire was a mere echo to the starter’s pistol that commenced the first race.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I’M SORRY I COULDN’T DO ANYTHING WITH THE OFFICIALS,” said Edward with an apologetic look to Diana. “I’m afraid Reggie’s entry fee is also now forfeit.”
Diana worried her lower lip.”I cannot imagine what must have happened, unless perhaps, the horse went lame. But to be honest, it makes not the slightest difference to me, as his plans assuredly never included paying off his debts. I’m just glad to see Hew and Cartimandua out there with the mares.”
“This should be an interesting contest, indeed, given DeVere won the first race,” said Edward.
Seven Nights of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors Page 61