Scanning the room for her mother or her cousins, Maddie was disappointed to see that none of them were near enough for her to tell them where she was bound. Reasoning that Lady Emily was unlikely to be a danger, she beckoned the other woman to follow her, and wound her way through the crowd to the door leading to the long gallery. The faint strains of the musicians filtered into the empty hallway as they entered the room where her aunt Violet kept her household office.
Pushing the heavy oak door, Maddie was relieved to see that the chamber was empty. Gesturing that Lady Emily should be seated in one of the high-backed chairs facing the fire, Maddie remained standing, her nerves too much on edge to allow her to rest.
“Now that we are here, I don’t even know where to begin,” Lady Emily said, for the first time in Maddie’s presence appearing nervous.
“I believe the beginning is often the accepted place to start,” Maddie said, not unkindly. There was more to the widow than she’d previously guessed, she realized, watching as she visibly prepared herself to speak.
Finally, taking a deep breath, Lady Emily said, “I believe you know already that I was married at a very young age.”
At Maddie’s nod, she continued, “What you may not know is that my husband, Charles Fielding, was a brute.” She said the words quickly, as if the faster they left her mouth the less damage they could do her.
“We began our married lives together quite happily,” she went on matter-of-factly, “I was smitten. And though my father was not in favor of the match, I was persuasive enough that it took me very little effort to convince him to allow our marriage.”
Maddie said nothing, knowing instinctively that the other woman needed to relay the tale in her own time, in her own way.
“We had been married nearly three months before he hit me,” she continued. “I do not even recall what set him off. It was likely something foolish like a forgotten engagement, or a failure to inform him that I was going out. As the daughter of a duke I was used to doing as I pleased—within reason, of course—and it took me a little while to realize that Charles would not be as lenient as my father had been.
“He characterized his strictness as the result of worry. It worried him to have me out of his sight, he said. It worried him to have me neglect him by forgetting to tell cook he disliked green peas. No matter how trivial the offense, he was beset with worry over my every transgression.”
Maddie tried to imagine living with such surveillance, and could not. Even at his worst her father had never been so demanding.
“After a few such incidents,” Lady Emily went on, staring off into space as she spoke, “I began to realize that it had very little to do with worry and a great deal to do with control.”
“What did you do?” Maddie asked, her stomach tight with tension at the thought of how suffocating Lady Emily’s life must have been.
“What could I do?” the other woman asked, turning to look at Maddie. “He was my husband. Under English law a wife is simply one more possession.”
That was true enough, Maddie knew. It was one, among many, concerns she had about entering the wedded state herself. Though she had little doubt that if Christian were to mistreat her in any way he would face the wrath of her cousins and their husbands, but if he truly wished to do so the law would be on his side.
“I will not bore you with the details of my five years of marriage,” Lady Emily continued, “but you will understand, I think, that his death was something which afforded me some degree of relief.”
“I do not doubt it,” Maddie said. “But what has this to do with my brother? Or for that matter, with the accusation of murder against Lord Tretham?”
“Patience,” Lady Emily said with a twisted smile. “You know already that my husband, your brother, Tretham, and Tinker were all good friends. Until, that is, Tretham, your brother, and Tinker walked in on Charles hitting me one afternoon. They did not cut his acquaintance, of course. They could not do so without revealing the reason for it, and I did not wish it to be known to the ton at large that I was subjected to such indignities.”
“But they let you continue living with him?” Maddie felt ill.
“My dear Lady Madeline,” the widow said sharply, “you must have more faith in your brother. He and Lord Tretham threatened my husband within an inch of his life if he laid another hand on me. And for whatever reason, it worked. Charles and I continued to live together until his death.”
“Then what of your husband’s death?” Maddie demanded. “Was it an accident as it was claimed?”
Lady Emily shook her head in disappointment. “They had no hand in Charles’s death if that’s what worries you. It was his own fault. Too much drink before he embarked on a cross-country race. He was lucky he killed no one but himself.”
“So, if we are agreed that your husband’s death was a happy accident,” Maddie said carefully, “then what is the problem?”
The other woman’s mouth tightened with tension. “I’m afraid that someone, thinking that the accident was not an accident at all, has elected himself to be my husband’s champion,” Lady Emily said, her hands clenching in her lap. “And Mr. Tinker was the first victim.”
Before Lady Emily could explain herself further, they were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door as Christian stepped into the room.
“Ladies, I apologize for the interruption, but I’m afraid you’re needed in the ballroom, Lady Madeline.”
Maddie met Christian’s gaze and noted the question there. She gave a slight shake of her head to indicate that she was all right.
“I hope you will excuse me for just a few moments longer,” she said, touching him on the arm. “I have a few more things to discuss with Lady Emily.”
“Place the blame at my door, Lord Gresham,” Lady Emily said, rising. “I rather foolishly requested Lady Madeline’s assistance in a personal matter.”
Her stomach sinking, Maddie turned to the other woman. “Please don’t go. I can spare a few moments longer.”
But Lady Emily was already stepping away. “I have said what I came here to say, my dear.” She took Maddie’s hand in hers and squeezed it. “I will trust you to do with the information what you wish.”
Maddie nodded, her mind racing at the implications of Lady Emily’s revelation. If someone were avenging what they saw as Lord Fielding’s murder at the hands of his friends, then they would have no compunction about harming her brother or Lord Tretham. Especially now that Mr. Tinker had been dispatched.
Her reverie was interrupted by Lady Emily’s conversation with Christian.
“I wish the two of you every happiness, my lord,” the older woman was saying. “You have chosen a very resourceful bride. I hope you will not object to it if I continue to count her among my friends.”
Maddie’s jaw dropped. “How on earth did you guess? We were going to announce the engagement tonight.”
Lady Emily smiled knowingly. “You’ll forgive me for saying it, but a person would have to be utterly blind not to notice the attachment between the two of you. Besides, after the scandal you created at my little party, it was inevitable.”
And before Maddie could say anything further, she was gone.
“What was that all about?” Christian demanded, his brow furrowed with concern. “We’ve been searching the whole house for you. I was afraid you had decided to cry off.”
Maddie felt her heart constrict as she saw that this last was only half said in jest. “I apologize,” she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “There was no one about to tell where I was going, and I had the feeling that if she were put off, Lady Emily might not make the effort to find me again.”
“Well?” he asked impatiently. “You don’t think I’m going back into the ballroom without hearing what she had to say, surely?”
She bit her lip in indecision. On the one hand, telling Christian would convince him once and for all that her brother was not responsible for Mr. Tinker’s death. And that news would mean that he co
uld be removed from the watch of the Home Office once and for all. On the other hand, she had little doubt that the news that someone was trying to kill both her brother and Lord Tretham would make him work doubly hard to keep her from involving herself in the matter.
“You may as well tell me, Maddie,” Christian said after a few beats of silence. “I can almost hear the gears turning in your head as you weigh the options.”
“I want to tell you,” she said, finally. “But you must first promise that you will not forbid me from assisting you with the investigation into Tinker’s death. If I tell you what Lady Emily said, that is.”
She watched his face harden with annoyance. He didn’t want to make the promise, that much was visible in the pinch of his nose and the furrow between his brows. Finally, with a muttered curse, he said, “All right. I promise, but you must also promise that if I tell you to stand down, or that something is too dangerous for you to handle, you will do as I say.”
It went against Maddie’s better judgment to agree to such restrictions, but since she needed him to perform those investigative tasks that she, as a woman, could not, she nodded. “I promise,” she said.
Indicating she was ready to return to the ballroom, she said, “It’s a complicated tale, most of which I will save for later. For now, however, suffice it to say that my brother and Lord Tretham are in very grave danger.”
* * *
“May I have your attention, please?”
Lady Hurston was tiny, but she had a voice that carried, and the lull in the dancing coupled with the cessation of the music helped. “I know that when I originally planned this ball it was to celebrate my husband’s recovering health…” At this, she reached out to take Lord Hurston’s hand as he remained seated in a place of honor next to her. “However, I am delighted to use this entertainment to celebrate another happy occasion.”
Christian shifted from one foot to the other while he watched the assembled guests hang on Lady Hurston’s every word. Winterson and Deveril had escaped having their matches announced in so public a manner, which he envied them. A gathering of men he would gladly speak before without qualm. But a society ball filled with everyone from turbaned matrons to green debutantes was enough to send him into a panic.
He also could not shake the pall that Lady Emily’s revelation to Maddie had cast over him. Coupled with what he’d learned from Mrs. Pettigrew, the news that someone was killing off the men who had been involved in Lord Fielding’s death was troubling. A killer was, it would seem, walking among them. And though he had narrowed the field down to those who were present that night at Mrs. Bailey’s, it was not beyond the realm of possibility that someone had entered and left the establishment without being seen. As an ex-soldier, he was quite comfortable with facing an enemy he could see. But this business, which pitted him against someone who was essentially hiding in plain sight, was the very devil.
His attention was diverted from his worries by Lord and Lady Essex stepping forward.
He hadn’t exchanged a word with Lord Essex since the day he proposed to Maddie. Her father’s condemnation of Maddie had filled Christian with a rage he had not thought himself capable of feeling. His years in the army had taught him to control his emotions. A commander with a hair-trigger temper was more dangerous than the enemy’s bullet. However, that day in the Essexes’ little parlor, he had used every ounce of his self-control to keep from slamming his fists into the older man’s face. Was this the sort of condemnation Clarissa had faced when that son of a bitch Selford had ruined her? The thought of Maddie being subject to the sort of self-recrmination that his sister had explained in her suicide note was almost more than Christian could bear. He would do just about anything to ensure that she never felt that kind of shame. Especially when he was equally at fault for their present situation.
Truth be told, he was glad that they’d arrived at this betrothal, no matter what route had led them here.
So, when she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him forward, he went willingly.
“It has been no secret,” Lady Essex began, “that my daughter has not been the most … docile of young ladies.”
This drew a laugh from the crowd, and Christian felt Maddie’s grip tighten on his hand.
“Like her cousins, Cecily and Juliet, now the Duchess of Winterson and the Viscountess Deveril,” Maddie’s mother continued, “Madeline has often preferred her books to her dance lessons.”
“I wish she would stop cataloguing my faults and simply make the announcement,” Maddie said in a low voice.
“Patience, my dear,” Christian whispered, though he, too, wished that Lady Essex would speed things up.
“But it gives us great pleasure,” Lady Essex continued, “to announce that our daughter, Lady Madeline Essex, has just accepted a marriage proposal from the Earl of Gresham.”
A chorus of cheers reverberated through the ballroom, and Christian was pounded on the back by Winterson and Deveril and, for appearances’ sake, his future father-in-law. Beside him, Maddie was embraced by her cousins, their husbands, and her aunts and uncles. Even the prickly Lady Rose Shelby. During the announcement, footmen had been moving efficiently through the room handing out glasses of champagne to the guests. Seeing that Maddie already had her own glass, Christian took one for himself and prepared to be toasted.
“I hope that you will all join us in a toast to my niece and her betrothed,” Lady Hurston said. “To Lady Madeline—”
But Maddie’s aunt was forestalled from continuing by a to-do on the other side of the room.
“No!” shouted a female voice from somewhere near the terrace doors. Conveniently a path opened up, revealing a very angry Miss Amelia Snowe as she shouted at her mother. “I will not toast Madeline Essex! It’s not fair! She isn’t half so beautiful as I am! I am the toast! I should be the one whose engagement is being announced! I should be the—”
And, as often seems to happen just when it’s too late to take the words back, Amelia seemed to sense at last that the room had become deathly silent for the latter part of her tirade. As Christian watched, Amelia’s face flushed an unbecoming shade of red.
Covering her mouth with her hand, as if that might recall the words she’d just uttered, Amelia stared at Maddie and Christian at the head of the room. And Maddie and Christian, nearly as surprised as she was, stared back.
With a sound that seemed suspiciously like a sob, Amelia turned on her heel and fled out the terrace doors.
The room hung in uneasy silence for a moment, then someone coughed, and as if awakening from a momentary sleep, Lady Hurston continued her toast. “To Lady Madeline and Lord Gresham!”
Fourteen
“Oh, dear,” Maddie said with a mixture of sympathy and amusement as she sipped her champagne. She and her cousins were huddled in a corner talking among themselves as the crowd in the ballroom drank champagne and made merry. “I knew Amelia disliked me, but I had no idea just how much until now.”
“It’s not just you,” Cecily said with a shake of her dark head. “It’s all of us. Imagine what she would do if she knew about the…” She leaned in and whispered in a low voice, “The dance card.”
“I know!” Juliet said, also keeping her voice hushed. “If it weren’t for the dance card I would never have gotten the courage to dance with Alec.”
“And I know I wouldn’t have made the push to speak to Winterson,” Cecily agreed. “Indeed, though Maddie seems to have sent Amelia over the edge, she is the one who has needed the you-know-what the least. After all, she snagged Gresham without it. And they are just as besotted as we are.”
“Don’t,” Maddie said before she could stop herself.
“Don’t what?” Cecily asked, puzzled. “Don’t talk about the dance card?”
“No,” Maddie said impatiently, “don’t speak about my relationship with Gresham as if it is the same as yours with Winterson, or Juliet’s with Deveril.”
“Whatever are you talking about, Maddie?” Julie
t asked, wrapping an arm around her cousin. “Of course it’s the same.”
“No,” Maddie insisted, “it isn’t. You two are blissfully in love with your husbands. Whereas Christian and I are … well, I’m not sure what we are, but I know we aren’t blissfully in love.”
Cecily and Juliet exchanged a look.
“So,” Cecily said quietly, “he loves you but you don’t love him. Like I was with Winterson.”
“Not necessarily,” Juliet interjected. “They could be like Alec and me. She could love him but he doesn’t love her. Yet.”
“Is that it, Maddie?” Cecily asked.
“No,” Maddie said impatiently. “You both have it all wrong. Christian and I are marrying because it’s known we kissed publicly at Lady Emily Fielding’s card party. I am compromised and he is marrying me to save my reputation. What is left of it, I mean.”
“Oh, I see,” Cecily said her voice heavy with irony. “You are right, that’s nothing like my match with Winterson.”
“You don’t understand,” Maddie said impatiently. “You were overcome by the heat of the moment. The passion. When Christian climbed the trellis into my bedchamber—”
“Madeline Honoria Essex!” Juliet hissed. “Never say that you have anticipated your vows!” She held a mocking hand to her chest. “I, for one, am shocked! Shocked!”
“Forget about being shocked,” Cecily said. “I want details!”
Maddie felt herself blush. “Of course I won’t go into detail,” she said impatiently. “What I was trying to say is that our match is not the product of irresistible attraction. It is the result of a scandalous situation and a bit of gallantry on his part.”
“Gallantry?” Cecily asked. “My dear, a man does not marry out of a sense of gallantry. Yes, a gentleman will marry a young lady whose reputation he has compromised, but I hardly think that is all there is between you.”
How to Entice an Earl Page 19