Redeeming the Earl

by Jenn Langston

  “That won’t be a problem, my lord,” he assured.

  “I told you that you and I would have a problem should anything happen to the countess. Now that it has, see that you find who was responsible, and I’ll forget your earlier dismissive attitude.”

  The magistrate’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Tell me everything.”

  “I was in my bedchamber dressing for bed when she entered the room. Then within seconds, she fell to the floor.”

  Helplessness engulfed Charles as he remembered the sight. His brain hardly had time to register her presence when she collapsed, arms still outstretched to him. He rubbed his temples. That was the third time he had to carry his injured wife to her bed.

  “Was there anyone else in the bedchamber?”

  “No. The door had been shut, and with the exception of the questionable liquid, no other weapon visible.”

  The magistrate peered into the glass on Charles’s desk before scribbling something on a piece of paper. “Did she drink some of this?”

  “Yes. Her maid Anna, who we believe was the last person in the room, watched her take a sip.”

  “Judging from the particles floating on it, this isn’t safe to drink.” The man lifted it and sniffed, his nose wrinkling. “If she drank this, it must have been by force.”

  Charles shifted uncomfortably in the chair, knowing where the next piece of evidence would leave the magistrate. “The brown flecks and smell is part of a nightly regimen my wife does as recommended by her midwife.”

  Understanding dawned in the man’s eyes. “And who prepared the drink for her?”

  “Either Madam Hershal or Anna.”

  “Then we have our first two suspects.” The magistrate snapped his book closed.

  “Before you make any assumptions, I must tell you, these women are broken up about this, and Madam Hershal is with the countess now doing her best to heal her.”

  The magistrate jumped to his feet. “You left her alone with a suspect? She could be in there now ensuring the countess dies.”

  Although Charles believed the midwife to be harmless, he stood as well. He couldn’t take a chance with Rebecca. He needed to see her. If she had worsened, they would have their culprit, and then he could insist the doctor try his methods. However, if Madam Hershal healed her, he would offer her a permanent place in his house. He would make sure she lived with any kind of luxury she desired.

  Quickly making his way up the stairs, he led the way to his wife’s bedchamber. Softly pushing open the door, he sagged his shoulders in relief to see Rebecca sitting up.

  Madam Hershal stood over Rebecca, but she straightened her shoulders and looked at them. In the time he’d been gone, he noticed she’d righted her disheveled appearance. Now the smile spreading across her face had Charles practically stumbling over his feet in thankfulness.

  “She has expelled the poison. She will be fine.”

  “And the baby?” Charles almost choked on the question.

  Madam Hershal nodded. “Also fine.”

  “Rebecca,” Charles whispered as he hurried to her side. “You’re alive.”

  She looked up at him, pain in her eyes. Although it ripped him apart to see her suffer, he couldn’t contain his gratitude at looking upon her face. It took every ounce of strength not to take her into his arms.

  “I don’t feel alive,” she croaked out.

  “I’m sorry to have to do this right now, Lady Dunmore,” the magistrate said as he approached. “But can you tell us what happened?”

  Charles shot him an angry look. “That part of your investigation can wait. She doesn’t need to talk about that right now.”

  “Very well.” The magistrate’s lips were in a tight line. “Madam, perhaps you could talk to me then.”

  Madam Hershal gave a slight bow of her head. “Certainly. As long as it is done in another room. The countess needs to rest.” After a warning look at Charles, she left the room with the magistrate.

  Turning back to Rebecca, he noticed how she hung off the side of the bed. Understanding her need, he helped her back into bed and watched as her eyes drifted shut. He trusted Madam Hershal, but fear of the poison moved through him. How could the woman be sure all the toxin had been removed? Could Rebecca still be in danger?

  He pulled a chair beside the bed and sat. If he had to watch her sleep all night to ensure she continued breathing, he would. She would be safe with him. He would make sure of it.

  Rebecca awoke with a pounding headache and a weak stomach. The light was too bright, and someone made loud noises in the room. She would have to speak with Anna regarding the change in her quiet morning routine.

  Sitting up with a groan, she gently touched her stomach. Recalling last night hit her in the midsection, and made her fall back on the bed. The past two days since she’d been poisoned had been full of pain and many trips to the chamber pot. Her stomach rolled at the memory.

  “Anna,” she called, refusing to open her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, my lady. Anna isn’t here. It’s me, Eloise.”

  She popped her head up to look at the girl, confused by the sudden change. Hadn’t her maid been tending to her over these past days?

  “Where’s Anna?”

  “I don’t know. The earl didn’t tell me. Merely said that I will be the one attending you in the future.”

  That knocked the last bit of sleep out of Rebecca. Ignoring the tenderness in her stomach, she allowed Eloise to dress her, then made her way downstairs. She had some words she needed to exchange with her husband.

  Hearing that he was in his study came as no surprise to her. The room had become his sanctuary for a long while now. Locking her shoulders back, she prepared to fight as she knocked on the door.

  “Enter,” came Charles’s muffled reply.

  She walked in and enjoyed his shocked expression as he scrambled to his feet. Clearly he hadn’t expected to see her today. Had that been why he changed her maid without asking?

  “What are you doing out of bed?” he demanded.

  “Trying to find out what happened to Anna. You wouldn’t know, would you?” she innocently asked as she took a seat in front of his desk. The trek downstairs had already worn her out enough.

  “She’s been reassigned. Eloise will be helping you now. She doesn’t have much experience, but will you will be able to help her along.”

  “That will not be necessary. Reassign Anna to me.”

  He leaned back in his chair and rested his elbows on the arms as he steepled his fingers. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s a suspect in your poisoning. The magistrate suggested I reassign her.”

  Anger heated her face. Anna was her friend. She’d never be involved in anything that would harm anyone. This was ridiculous.

  “Since when does the Earl of Dunmore listen to the magistrate’s suggestions?”

  “Since my wife has been poisoned,” he ground out, clearly unhappy with this line of questioning.

  “Anna is innocent. She had nothing to do with this.”

  Charles let out a sigh. “Where’s your proof?”

  “She is my friend.”

  His bitter laughter filled the room. “Yet she’s already betrayed you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Anna was the one who told me everything about your pregnancy from day to day. She betrayed your trust.”

  “I know. She told me. Only someone coerced would confess everything to me and ask for forgiveness. She was worried for her job, nothing more.”

  He clenched the arms of the chair. “I never once threatened her. I made it clear that her compliance, or lack thereof, would not affect her position.”

  “If
not you, then Mrs. Callie,” Rebecca supplied.

  “Be reasonable, Rebecca. Mrs. Callie is her aunt. And the one who begged me to give the position of lady’s maid to Anna after my marriage to Miranda.”

  Getting tired of this game, Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut. “Then it was someone else who threatened her.”

  Charles sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “For the sake of ending this argument, I’ll accept that. Now, what is the point to all this?”

  “Reassign Anna to me.” She thought she’d been very clear in her request.

  “I don’t agree with that.”

  She opened her mouth talk, but Charles held up his hand to stop her.

  “If that is your wish, I will comply, but only if you consent to certain conditions.”

  Tapping her foot, Rebecca imagined she wouldn’t like this. She and Anna had been managing fine for a good, long while. There was no reason to change anything.

  “And what might those be?” She kept her tone light in the spirit of compromise.

  “You will also procure the services of Eloise. And you shall never be alone with Anna.”

  Rebecca jumped to her feet. “That’s unreasonable. What do you think she’s going to do? Murder me in my sleep?”

  He stood as well, and his body slightly shook as he leaned on his hands over the desk to glare at her. “Until I have proof that she won’t, yes, that is exactly what I fear.”

  “Very well,” she grudgingly agreed, then turned to leave. “I expect this to be in effect immediately. I will require her services later today.”

  This whole situation was ridiculous. It wasn’t like he truly cared what happened to her. If he did, he wouldn’t have stood back and watched her collapse from the poison. And there were dozens of other statements or actions of his that she could recall that put more suspicion on him than Anna.

  Needing to find some relaxation, she made her way out to the garden. Although nowhere near as cold as the other day, snow still clung to the ground in places of high shade. She snuggled deeper in her coat, as she allowed the cold to clear her mind.

  As she moved along, she occasionally saw a shadow pass through her vision. At first she thought it to be the trees, but when she held still, she noticed the shadow move. Her heart seized as her palms grew sweaty. Was this the person who poisoned her? Had they come to finish what they’d begun?

  She ventured too far to be able to return quickly, so she pushed through the bushes, hoping her dark cloak would hide her. Keeping an eye out for who walked by, she waited. Not more than a few minutes later, Paul appeared. Unable to contain her shock, she gasped, drawing his gaze.

  “Lady Dunmore, what are you doing in there?”

  Seeing Paul reach out for her, she shrank back, but his large hands clamped her on the shoulders and pulled her out. Her shivering had nothing to do with the biting cold. If he tried to kill her now, no one would be able to save her. She gulped. The solitary walk in the garden hadn’t been a good idea.

  “W-walking,” she answered. “What are you doing here?”

  He rubbed his gloved hand over the back of his neck. “I-I’ve been assigned to watch over you.”

  She eyed him closely, and she noted how sincere he appeared. Although the scar made him look terrifying, Rebecca remembered the stories Anna had told, and looked at him through her friend’s eyes. That allowed her to calm her taut nerves.

  “How long have you been following me?”

  “Apparently not often enough. Otherwise all those things never would’ve happened to you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Feeling safe, Rebecca allowed herself to enjoy the day. If she constantly had a protector around, surely no other attempts could be made on her life. In addition, Paul didn’t look like the type of person someone would risk having a confrontation with.

  “My lady, may I speak freely?”

  Prickles of fear covered her skin at his quiet voice. Although she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say, she nodded.

  “As you must’ve noticed, many unhappy occurrences have gone on inside the manor.”

  Again, she nodded, unable to find her voice.

  “I know someone who may be able to help shed light on certain topics.”

  “What do you mean?” Rebecca croaked out.

  “I think it would be better for you to hear it from her. If I arrange a meeting, will you come?”

  Biting her bottom lip, Rebecca thought it over. Paul seemed trustworthy and if he’d been protecting her all this time, he intended her no harm. Including today, he must have had dozens of opportunities to kill her if that had been his intent.

  “I can’t see the harm in a brief meeting. As long as you remain with me.”

  His shoulders sagged as he let out a sigh. “You won’t regret this.”

  She hoped not. After all, if this turned out bad, she could have just sentenced herself to death.

  Chapter 15

  “Where have you been?” Charles demanded as loud as he could while Josiah slowly dragged himself into the study. “This isn’t the type of behavior I expect from my steward.”

  Once the door shut, Charles sat back in his chair, and Josiah grinned. Making everyone believe his steward was unhappy had been surprisingly easy. It made Charles wonder if the man really didn’t have to fake his feelings.

  Josiah rubbed his hands together. “This plan is brilliant. Already I’ve been approached by a few people asking me questions about you.”

  Concern made the hair on the back of Charles’s neck raise. “Like what?”

  “Nothing significant. How often you and I meet. The relationship you have with your staff. There were a few questions about the countess, but mostly along the same line.”

  Charles didn’t like this. Instead of Josiah using the opposition, they were using him. This only made getting to Rebecca easier. Maybe they should forget the whole thing.

  “So, you are offering information, but have you obtained any in return?”

  “Not much, but only because they need to see if I can be trusted first.”

  “How do you know they aren’t just using you?”

  With a big smile, Josiah leaned back in his chair. “Because I’ve made it clear I want to pay you back for years of ill-treatment.”

  Forcing himself not to roll his eyes, Charles kept his stare trained on the man. Either he was purposefully withholding information, or he was the stupidest person Charles had ever met. However, Charles couldn’t decide which was accurate.

  “That is a good plan, but anyone could make a similar claim.”

  “Yes, but I discovered you have someone on your staff feeding them information. And they have given me my first task to prove myself.”

  Charles gulped. This was more serious than he thought. The idea of a traitor bothered him, and with Josiah having to prove himself in this way, this investigation was much too dangerous.

  “What do they want you to do?”

  “At this point, I think they are doing research. They want every paper you have related to the deaths of your previous wives as well as the attacks on the current countess.”

  “Why do they want that? Surely the details of pregnancy complications don’t offer any new insight. Besides, the attacks on Lady Dunmore should be straightforward if they are the group responsible for causing them.”

  “If they were responsible,” Josiah repeated, emphasizing the first word. “Right now, I’d venture to say they aren’t.”

  Frustrated with all the back and forth, Charles wiped a hand over his face. In the end, someone held a threat to Rebecca. If not this group, who had reason to cause Rebecca harm?

  “When do they expect the documents?”

  Josiah’s shoulders sagged a little. “Didn�
��t say. Only that I needed to get them at first opportunity.”

  “Then we will put them together, and I can derive a reason to leave you here alone afterward.”

  With that settled, Charles unlocked the drawer where he kept the reports from the doctor and magistrate. When he’d received them, he had only offered them a cursory glance. After all, he had lost quite a lot each time, and reviewing the results was difficult. Losing one’s spouse and child never got easier.

  Using shaking hands, he pulled the first file forward. Miranda. Flipping over page after page, he saw nothing that stuck out that could be useful. Everything appeared in order.

  Next was Diana. The pages were much the same, but filled with more questions than answers. It seemed the authorities hadn’t known the exact reason for her death. Troubled, Charles read closer. The first doctor’s notes seemed to be following a trail, then cut off. That’s when Prinny’s doctor had taken over.

  The man wrote nonsense about pregnancy sending poison through her blood. Although the idea was ridiculous, the word poison stood out. Had she been poisoned? Had the Prince Regent’s goodwill turned out to be more harm than good?

  Moving faster, he pulled Lorraine’s file forward. She surely had a miscarriage that took her life. The blood spilled from her in the same manner as it had Rebecca. His throat clogged. Had Lorraine been thrown down the stairs and then set in her bed?

  Charles recalled Rebecca’s bruised face. Lorraine hadn’t sustained any similar injuries. However, the idea that more could have been going on back then sent an icy chill down his body. If Rebecca hadn’t suffered similarly, he may not even have noticed the difference between accidental death and murder.

  His cold hands reached for Allison’s file. Everything pointed to her suicide, but with his newfound knowledge, he realized how easy a strong push could turn it into something else.