Val glanced over his shoulder at Darius. “What are they doing?”
“Bringing a private prosecution for murder.”
“Murder?” Val turned his attention back to his wife. He shoved his hands in his pockets, watching the way she sat, her back straight, her gloved hands folded in her lap. She barely moved. He slotted the new information into his mind and went to work on it. “At least they are basing their accusations on me. But it wasn’t murder.”
“We have to tell Charlotte.”
“I know.” He shook his head. “How can they believe it? At the very most it was self-defense.”
“They have a case,” Darius said grimly. “They will collect evidence of your arguments with him. They’ll say you took the woman he and her father wanted her to marry. They’ll bring the card game and the duel into court.” Darius moved closer and put his hand on Val’s shoulder. “And you did not do it.”
“How can you say that?” Furiously he turned to confront his brother. “I killed him.”
Darius shook his head. “You did not. You held the gun when we caught up with you, but only because you had taken it from Charlotte. I saw the movement and the way she looked at you after you’d taken it. Besides, when I went over events in my mind, she was on the right side to take the cocked and loaded weapon. You took the other.”
“One bullet each,” he said dully. “That was what he planned. After that, he would row back up to London, or far enough away to distance himself from us.”
“He is better dead,” Darius said, “but his family is rising up. They never did when he was alive, but they smell blood. His heir is a straitlaced man who spent most of his time at his family estates in Yorkshire, but he doesn’t want the taint of his predecessor to touch the title. He is a lawyer, but I do not know how good he is.”
Val grimaced. “Straitlaced,” he repeated. “At least that has to be better than the last incumbent.” But not, perhaps, for him.
“Ivan is going to Yorkshire to see what he can find about the man. A way to clear the title of any stain is to accuse you of initiating and planning the last viscount’s murder. He will claim that what appears to be self-defense is in truth the result of a calculated plan.”
He was right, damn him. The new Lord Kellett had a case. That meant they would expend considerable energy and money on it. And it meant one more thing. “So I’m to stand trial in Bow Street?” He was not a peer, merely the son of one and not in the direct line, so he would be treated as a commoner in law. Otherwise it would have been the House of Lords. He wasn’t sure which option would draw the most crowds. “Probably Newgate Prison, too.”
“You should think about telling the truth,” Darius said.
Furious, Val lifted a hand but his brother caught his wrist before it reached him. Their faces were close, glaring at one another.
“Listen to me,” Darius said. “With the case they have, they will bring it to court, but they will lose. They must. We will use every weapon we have.”
“You will not tell anyone who shot him, do you hear me?” Val said furiously. “Charlotte is in no state to stand trial.” He gave Darius a moment to absorb what he was saying. “Even if she were, I would do everything I could to prevent it. It is immaterial who killed Kellett. He was threatening both of us, and he had every intention of killing us both.” He frowned. “How did you know he was there?”
“I wasn’t sure. I went to his house and his butler told me he wasn’t available. His servants are not very loyal. It only took two guineas to elicit the information that he had taken his carriage to the docks. From there, I guessed why he would want a boat. If I was wrong, I’d have stayed for dinner and left.” He grimaced. “I know we don’t make much of the twin link, but I felt you were in danger.”
Val dropped his hands and stepped back. “Perhaps we should. Your shout distracted him for the few seconds we needed.” Their likeness was close and staring into eyes so like his own brought reason back to Val’s turbulent thoughts. “But I don’t want to leave Charlotte. If they arrest me, I will have to. She is suffering badly.” He paused. “If I can’t get her to return to me, she will retreat into herself.” If he had to cope with this new problem, he must trust his brother to care for her. To do that, he needed to know the whole story.
He crossed the room to a chair by the unlit fire, where he could keep his attention on his wife. “I have something to tell you.”
Darius took the chair set opposite the fireplace and crossed his legs. “Go on.”
Typical that he didn’t question Val. “Charlotte was illused by her father,” he said bluntly. “In fact, I have every reason to assume that the Duke of Rochfort met Kellett at the House of Correction.”
Darius’s quickly sucked-in breath told Val what his brother thought of that. He swore, long and colorfully. “I had no idea. I have more knowledge of that area of London than perhaps I should, but I have never heard even a whisper that Rochfort was involved.”
“Charlotte was unaware of it, too. But from what she told me of her father’s behavior, I saw a pattern. I have not confirmed my suspicions. I had more important things to do.”
“I will confirm it.” Grim-faced, Darius sighed. “I have work to do. I’ll confirm the link, and I’ll find witnesses to what we saw that night.”
“Won’t that show that I had a grudge against Kellett?”
“An understandable one. It’s a risk, but I will collect every scrap of evidence that I can.”
Having a brother like Darius was worth ten fortunes. “Rochfort is not as dangerous as Kellett. He has a sense of self-preservation and some self-control.”
“That might be why he imposed that rigid control on his children.”
Val nodded. He hadn’t considered that aspect before. If Rochfort considered his unusual tastes a sin and unnatural and worked hard to control his natural urges, he might want his children to have armory. Not that the knowledge made Val feel any better disposed toward the man. “He was certainly of the same frame of mind, so it seems likely that was where they met. I have been thinking and made a few suppositions that work. Kellett wooed Charlotte and persuaded her to go to her father and ask to break the contract. And to me. Kellett would use that to control her, to tell her that he was her choice.” He swallowed back his anger, although for two pins he would have stormed outside and punched the ash tree near the side of the property hard enough to break his fingers. To think they had nearly fooled him made his stomach roll.
“That sounds like the kind of thing he would do.” Darius’s face was made of stone. “One way or another, we will prevail. We have enough. I will return to London and make enquiries. If he persists with the suit, we will do our best to destroy him.”
Val nodded. “Can you persuade the bawd in Covent Garden to stand witness?”
Darius paused before he said, “If I can find her. I will do everything I can.”
Val lifted his chin belligerently, accepting the challenge as he might a challenge to a duel. They would win. They had to.
His gaze went to Charlotte again. She had not moved, still sitting as still as a marble statue, watching nothing. The other challenge came first. Unfortunately he could no longer give her the time she needed. He needed help. “Charlotte has withdrawn. She is more than troubled, and unless I can find a way to persuade her to open to me again, I fear I’ll lose her forever.” She was perfectly capable of locking herself away. At the moment, she spoke to him and discussed household matters. He’d been trying the gentle approach. As soon as the inquest into Kellett’s death was over, he planned to take her to Leicestershire and give her the peace of the county for as long as she needed it.
They went out to her. Charlotte’s smile was polite, almost vacant. “Should you not come in now? The day wears on.”
“Is Darius to stay to dinner?” When he responded in the affirmative, she appeared almost glad their intimacy was to be interrupted, her words brighter than they’d been for days.
Val tried no
t to take her reaction personally. When he held out his hand to her she ignored it, pretending to be busy gathering her skirts. She rose gracefully, and stood before him as he dropped his hand. He knew better than to touch her, but his palms tingled with the effort not to take her in his arms.
Before Val could stop him, Darius stepped forward and lifted her hand to his lips.
Her reaction was instant and terrifying. Leaping up from the garden bench, she took a step back and caught her heel in her skirts. Her face contorted and tears sprang to her eyes. As she stumbled, the sound of tearing fabric came to his ears, but she righted herself by gripping the arm of the bench. Her bosom heaved as she regained her breath and Val knew her heart would be beating so hard she could hear it. But he could not help her, could not sweep her into his arms and carry her away. If he did, she would only grow worse.
Charlotte closed her eyes. Val watched, appalled, but unwilling to leave until her breathing slowed and she opened her eyes again.
The frozen expression of Lady Charlotte Engles returned, clamping down over the agitated woman who had shown herself. If anything, that hurt Val more than her upset, for she was shutting him out, closing him down.
“Good afternoon, Darius, it’s good of you to come. Won’t you stay to dinner?”
A shaken Darius accepted her invitation, and she went indoors, sweeping past them like a queen.
Val swallowed. “She will not let me touch her.”
Darius’s mouth straightened. “So I see.” He watched Charlotte go inside.
Last night Val had tried to make love to her. His mind veered away from what happened, but the vision remained burned into his brain. The cry she had given was distress, and she’d shrunk to the far side of the bed, whimpering in terror.
He’d spent the night elsewhere, once he’d called her maid to care for her, telling the girl that his wife had experienced a bad dream.
“When I picked her up after Kellett’s death, she’d gone completely rigid. I ignored her response. I thought it was shock. I carried her to our room and laid her on the bed. When the maid came down later, she told me she’d had the same response from Charlotte.” He recalled her words. “She won’t let me touch her, sir. She insists on tending to herself. All I could do was pour the hot water for her, lay out her night rail, and tidy up when she had done.”
That she hadn’t wanted even a maid to touch her worried Val deeply, but considering Charlotte’s reaction due to crippling shock, he let it be and took care not to touch her. He slept in the same bed the first night, but when he’d discovered her huddling at the very edge of the bed, he’d spent the intervening nights elsewhere. Until last night.
“I must do something. The authorities could arrive any day. Once the new Lord Kellett and his family have a case, they will waste no time coming for me.”
Darius nodded. “You cannot force her reaction. I have heard of that phenomenon before. I know you will not take advice from anyone, but listen to me this once, Val. Let her touch you.”
He listened. How in the devil’s name did he do that, when he yearned to fold her in his arms, to surround her with his love? But he couldn’t do that now, and time was running out for him. Once they came for him, they could well lock him up, separate him from her. Then she would truly be lost to him. She might never come back.
Charlotte came down to dinner, once again her serene self. Over dinner, Val explained what was about to happen. As he expected, his redoubtable wife protested. After a glance at Val, she said, “But I shot him, not you!”
Darius dropped his fork with a clatter, apologized, and restored it to the side of his plate. “Charlotte, I know, but Val and I are the only people who know. Do not tell the authorities.”
“It was an accident.” Tears sprang to her eyes.
Val lifted his hand, reaching out to her before his reason caught up with his desire. He did not touch her. He could not bear to see her flinch away and freeze. The more he touched her, the worse her reaction. He was terrified that if he tried too much, she would leave him and never come back, in mind if not in body.
Val had never been so circumspect before. His wife was teaching him some salutary lessons, although he wished they were not quite so brutal.
Darius softened his voice. “If they accuse you of murder, do you think Val would survive it?”
She turned a stricken gaze to him, and Val felt even worse. That wasn’t the reason he was preparing to take the brunt of the accusation. Charlotte was in no state to take that kind of pressure, and if they had her locked up in Newgate, people would be jostling and touching her all the time. She would lose her mind.
Besides, if she had not pulled the trigger, he was sure as he was sitting here that he would have. Kellett had gone too far with his final action. The minute he’d threatened Charlotte, he was a dead man. If Val had not killed him, Darius would have ensured it was done. The small technicality that had prevented him from doing the deed mattered little.
“To be blunt my dear, the Emperors have more friends and popularity than your family. Your father is resented in many circles, and not a few people would take this opportunity to get their revenge on him.”
He knew she would understand that, and she did, nodding.
They had sent the servants away so they might talk, but at that moment, someone knocked on the door. “There are three men outside who are insisting on seeing you, my lord,” the butler said sonorously.
Val noted the use of “men,” and not “gentlemen.” “Very well, Bunson, show them into the drawing room. We will be through when we are ready. Did they leave their names?”
“One is a Bow Street Runner, my lord, a Mr. Dunmore. The other is our parish constable, who appears deeply uncomfortable. The third did not speak, but he is a large man.”
They found out exactly how large he was when they walked into the drawing room. His hulking form dominated the comfortably spacious room.
The man with the red waistcoat, marking him as the Runner, executed a short bow. “Lord Valentine Shaw?”
Val gave his wife a reassuring smile and nodded. “Close, but it’s Valentinian. Why do you interrupt my evening?”
“My lord, I have the task of informing you that you are arrested for the heinous crime of murder. I must request that you accompany me to Bow Street, where you will be placed in custody pending your trial.”
Although he had expected it, a cold chill seared through Val. His memory went back to the day when he’d rescued Charlotte from the Tyburn crowds, and a sense of gloom descended on him like a smothering blanket.
“You will not incarcerate him in Newgate,” Darius said, as if stating a fact.
“Our instructions are to take him there,” the constable replied. He tucked his thumbs in his waistcoat and stuck out his chest, as proud as a turkey cock.
Darius looked from Val to Charlotte, but Darius shook his head. “Take care of my wife, Darius. I will shift well enough.”
“Do you have money?”
Val grimaced. He had not thought he wanted it, spending a day at home, but he would need money to pay for a room of his own, even decent food. The guards at Newgate Prison thrived on them. They could hardly live on what they were paid.
Without a pause, Darius drew out his purse and handed it over. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Look to my wife first,” Val told his twin. “Above everything, take care of Charlotte.”
Chapter 20
Charlotte wanted to go with Val, but Darius stopped her. The men had gone, taking Val in a closed carriage with the blinds down and she could not even let him kiss her. The thought of doing it sent her into a blind panic.
How could she be so unfeeling? Except that she wasn’t. She felt as if she were battering against the walls of an impregnable room, locked up there for all time, unable to escape. Her isolation was as real as if it had been physical and she could not break out of it.
When Darius offered to take her back to London that day, she accepted with al
acrity. “I cannot stay here without gossip spreading, you know that,” Darius told her. “We have time, and to be truthful, I would rather start work tonight.”
“They’re taking him to Newgate,” she said numbly. “He could catch gaol fever.”
“He will not spend above one night there,” Darius vowed. “I will find a way. He may not have to stand trial by the time we’re done. It is fortunate that the family came to London for your wedding, because I intend to put every one of them to work.”
“Yes.” Charlotte gathered her skirts in one hand. “Give me an hour, and I will be ready. Or I can come now, and send for my things.”
“No, bring what you must. But no longer than an hour, mind.”
Charlotte’s maid seemed relieved to have something useful to do and proved her worth by having Charlotte’s clothes and her dressing case packed in half the allotted time.
Since Darius had ridden here, they took the carriage Charlotte and Val had arrived in, and left his horse for a groom to bring into town the next day.
At the door, the butler bowed low. “I trust we will see you soon, my lady? If I may venture to wish yourself and his lordship all the good fortune in the world.”
That meant a lot to Charlotte. Servants rarely gave opinions, and the ones in her father’s house generally crept about like mice, so to have the loyalty of a London servant was something indeed. She nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”
Darius held out his gloved hand to help her into the carriage. When she paused, he dropped his hand and she made shift to climb into the vehicle on her own.
Her reaction to touches began immediately after Kellett’s body lay on the ground next to her. Blood and bits of bone had spattered her, but it wasn’t until the pool of blood had reached her face that she’d felt the full horror of what she had just done. It was warm, touching her like fingers of liquid.
Almost immediately Val had scooped her up. His touch, so soon after Kellett’s, had done something to her senses. Still in deep shock, she’d reacted instinctively from somewhere deep inside her. At the time, she’d assumed she would recover after the shock had worn off and she’d had some rest, but it was not to be.
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