The Romantic

by Madeline Hunter

  “Tie them up and take them. It will be all they need— those, and the reports of that argument in the club, and my hours alone that night. The police will be relieved to know it is me and not a countess. It will make things easier for them.”

  Laclere hesitated, then began stacking the papers neatly “I did not realize you had such a talent with the pen, either. Your words are quite moving. The stories, the verse—to think my sister spent all these years surrounding herself with writers, and unknown to her the finest one was standing in front of her, totally silent about his abilities. I should have guessed, I suppose, considering those little epics of yours that enthralled us when we were young.”

  “These were private, and never intended for the public eye.”

  “They will not be private soon. Can you bear that?”

  “Yes.” He could bear anything for her.

  Laclere tied the papers into a bundle. He stared at them for a while, then rose. “I will sleep on this and decide what to do.”

  Julian knew Laclere would want to contemplate the choice, but they both knew what the decision had to be.

  Laclere opened the door. With his hand on the latch, he turned back. “I know why you are doing this. I would do the same for Bianca. But there is no need for a lie between us. You can admit to me that you did not kill him.”

  Julian turned his back on Laclere. Moments later he heard the door close behind his friend.

  Pen sat in the garden on a bench beneath a tree. The sun was shining. That raised her spirits a little. It did not completely dispel the clouds in her, however. Ominous dark ones hovered. They made her churn like the sea when a storm approaches.

  She kept the panic contained, but it was always there, threatening to conquer her. Maintaining her composure was easier when she was alone. Seeing her brothers worry, watching the dullness that had claimed her friends’ moods, only made it harder.

  Waiting was the worst part. It reminded her of when she lived with the earl and she knew he would be coming to punish her. He was dead now, but here she was, living again with the sickening anticipation of pain and humiliation that she had experienced back then. The waiting was worse than the reality.

  Soon the waiting would end.

  Last night Laclere had been so quiet, so brooding, that her sense of danger had spiked. Then Dante had visited, and he and Vergil had disappeared into the study. When Dante emerged, he looked so dismayed that she had wanted to comfort him.

  A funereal mood had claimed the house this morning. Everyone knew that the police were coming to speak with her today.

  She would not be able to exonerate herself. They would put her in prison.

  She might never sit in the sunshine amidst a garden again.

  Her eyes misted. She held onto her sense by a thin thread. She groped her way back to some control.

  The thud of the garden door made her jump. Steps sounded on the path. Her heart began beating so hard she felt the throbbing in her temples.

  The police must be here. Laclere was coming to bring her to them.

  She closed her eyes and gathered her dignity. She would not embarrass herself or her family. She would behave with the decorum appropriate to her station.

  The steps stopped in front of her. Bracing herself, she opened her eyes.

  “Julian!”

  He smiled and sat down beside her. “The day is unseasonably fair.”

  She looked up the garden path. “No chaperones?”

  His arm circled her and he drew her near. “No chaperones.”

  They had not been alone in over a week, since that dreadful day. He had not touched her since they made love in the library. “I have missed you terribly.”

  “My love is always with you, even if I am not.”

  It was the first time he had used the word. It made her heart glow to hear it. She was glad that he also thought what they shared was love. He did not mean it the way she felt it, but just the word made it more special than friendship or passion or affection.

  “I know that. But it is good to have you with me, too, now. Especially since …” She bit back the words. She did not want to ruin the tiny oasis of peace that had just formed.

  He caressed her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I am sorry that you had to suffer such fear, darling. You no longer do. You will still be questioned, I expect, but not today. You are no longer suspected.”

  “I am not? What has happened?”

  “They have turned their attention elsewhere.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, then broke in the best way. A glorious relief sparkled through her. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a happy kiss.

  They both smiled at the same time and their teeth knocked. She giggled and looked up at him. His mood matched her own. She could not remember seeing him so happy, so clearly light of heart. Almost boyish.

  “I cannot believe it. Just last night my brothers appeared to be preparing for my wake. Even this morning—”

  “Knightridge just sent the word to Laclere and me. Believe it, Pen. You are safe now.”

  “As you promised I would be.” She nuzzled the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. She would not have to cling to memories of his scent and strength now. She would actually have him in her arms.

  “Once this has passed, can we go back to the cottage, Julian? I would love that. Just you and me. I want to make love in that chamber of yours that overlooks the sea. You said that the sounds of the surf are so clear it is as if you are lying on the waves.”

  He tucked her closer and buried his face in her hair. He just held her like that for a precious, perfect minute.

  “We will go there as soon as we can.”

  She could hardly contain how wonderful she felt. “I keep giggling like a fool, but it is as if I am rawly alive. The sun is warmer and the breeze fresher. Oh, Julian, this is the grandest day. To be truly free of fear—to be out of all the shadows, old and new—I hardly know what to do with myself.”

  He laughed. “What do you think you want to do?”

  “I want to spend the entire day with you. I want to go somewhere and run in a meadow and get ruddy cheeks and play like a child.” She jumped up and tugged on his hand. “Let us go down to Laclere Park. We can forget all of this trouble for a few days.”

  He tugged back and she fell into his lap. “I cannot go to Laclere Park. There is something I must do late today. We can go to Hampstead, however. The chevalier’s property has a meadow and a woods. Would that be good enough?”

  She hooked her arm around his neck and pecked a kiss on his nose. “Anyplace is good enough, Julian, now that I know we can be together.”

  The Chevalier Corbet welcomed them. He fed them a simple meal, chatted amiably, then quietly vacated the premises.

  Once she and Julian were alone, Pen strolled into the large hall where Laclere and his friends had practiced their dueling skills since back when they were in university.

  “I have no trouble picturing you all here,” she said as she examined the sabres hung on the wall. “After all, I once saw it.”

  “That was very naughty of you.”

  “It was, wasn’t it. I did not expect to be discovered.” She laughed at the memory. “Oh, how Laclere scolded. He was not much more than a boy, and he puffed up with authority like a parent. Thank God Bianca saved him, that is all I can say.”

  The empty chamber echoed with their steps. She saw the young men of the Dueling Society as she had that day, their sabres clashing, their naked torsos gleaming with the sweat of their exercise.

  Most of them hurried to put on shirts when they realized she and Diane were watching. One of them gave her a mesmerizing, seductive smile as he did so.

  Not Julian.

  Witherby’s ghost suddenly stood beside her, exuding the charm that had made him so attractive. His memory no longer made her sad. She looked back on that episode now with astonishing indifference.

  She glanced at Julian and guessed that he was reading
her thoughts. “I do not mourn him any longer, Julian.”

  “I am glad.”

  “My only regret is that … I suppose I regret that it was not you back then. I wish that you had been the one to pursue me, and not him.”

  “Would you have noticed if I had?”

  “I do not know. Perhaps not. I may have been too young to understand. Too young to appreciate you. I am a little nostalgic, however. And jealous, for no reason. I suppose that I wish you had wanted me back then, and thought of me that way.”

  “Actually, I did think of you that way back then.”

  She laughed. “Well, perhaps you did on occasion. As you told me, men have a habit of thinking of women that way in any case.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the doorway. “Now, let us go out to the meadow while the sun is still high.”

  It was a perfect day, the best in her life, full of laughter and games and shining with the bright future she envisioned. Her shoes got muddy and her gown soiled as they played some of the games of their childhood. They enjoyed long kisses and caresses between adventures, and twice made love in the dry grass, oblivious to the chill in the air and ground.

  When the sun started fading, they rode back to London in Julian’s carriage.

  “We look dreadful,” Pen said, picking a burr off her ruined skirt. She brushed at some grass on Julian’s shoulder.

  “I would not trade the day for the cleanest garments in the world,” he said.

  “Nor would I. I wish we had some wine. I would toast to many more days like this.”

  The city was dark when they arrived back at Laclere’s house. Julian helped Pen down from the curricle.

  “Julian, that carriage there looks familiar.” She gestured to a carriage nearby. “Isn’t that the one that stopped us on our way to Laclere Park? The police must have come to speak with me today, after all. Why would they wait if I was not here?”

  Julian looked to the house, then the police carriage, and finally at her. “When we go inside, I want you to immediately retire to your bedroom, darling.”

  The day’s joy disappeared in a snap. The last week’s fears returned like a cold wave had broken against her

  heart.

  “Julian, did you lie to me this morning when you said

  I was safe? Did you just want me to have a last day of freedom, without fear?”

  He took her face in his hands and looked down at her. “I did not lie. Now, go to your bedroom. Promise me that you will remember what I said in the garden: My love is

  with you even if I am not.”

  “Why would you not be with me? First you say they have not come for me, then you say—”

  “They are not here for you, Pen. They are waiting for me.”

  chapter 24

  She did it the way Julian asked. She retired at once to her bedroom.

  Then she ran to another chamber that looked down on the street.

  For a horrible half hour she waited.

  Light spilled into the darkness as the door below opened. Julian walked over to the police carriage, accompanied by two men. They got in and the carriage rolled away.

  She saw nothing after that except an ocean of tears. She cried so hard it hurt. She sank to the floor. Holding herself, gasping for breath, she succumbed to all the dread she had been holding in during the last ten days.

  The presence of another person broke through her misery. She looked up and saw Vergil standing ten feet from her, holding a lamp. He put it on a table and came over and sat on the floor with her. His embrace only made her cry harder.

  Finally the worst passed, but only because she was exhausted. The return of composure did not make her truly calm.

  “You knew,” she whispered into his shoulder.

  “Yes.”

  “You let him take me away today and pretend all was well, and you knew what would be waiting when we returned.”

  “It was how he wanted to do it.”

  “He acted so happy with me. I never guessed. Not for an instant.”

  “Perhaps because he truly was happy with you.”

  She inhaled deeply and wiped her eyes. She eased away so she could see her brother’s face.

  “You must not allow him to do this. You must go and tell him that I won’t have it.”

  Vergil stretched out his legs and rested his back against the wall. “I think it is out of our hands now, Pen.”

  “He did something to let them think it was he in order to spare me. He is just trying to protect me.”

  “If so, he will not listen to my pleas that he not do it. Nor will I make such a plea.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. “Are you saying that you condone such a lie?”

  “You are my sister. I will condone anything that saves you, I expect.”

  “Even the conviction of an innocent man? Your friend, at that?”

  He did not answer. Nor did his eyes meet hers. He appeared terribly beleaguered.

  “Vergil, we do agree that this is an elaborate deception on his part, don’t we? You do agree that Julian is innocent, don’t you?”

  To her astonishment, he did not reply at once. He actually appeared to be weighing the evidence.

  “He refused to tell me that he is innocent, Pen. I asked, and all I got was his damned silence. But, yes, I do believe he is. Not because he is my friend, nor because I think he is too good. In truth, I have concluded that if he believed you were in danger he would not hesitate to kill.”

  “I trust you did not give such a strange testimonial of his character to the police.”

  “Pen, he was hoping there would be a duel. Whatever reason he gave you for returning to London, that was how he really expected this all to end. He counted on your affair to force Glasbury into a challenge.”

  A duel. A furious rebellion swelled in her. Her mind started forming a scathing response to her brother’s accusation.

  But memories came to her, of Julian promising protection. Even that first night in his library he had sworn Glasbury would never force her to return. I will do whatever is necessary. How often had he made that promise with such firm confidence?

  She had always assumed he was just reassuring her.

  “Vergil, if you think he is capable of this, why do you believe he did not do it?”

  “It was poison. Julian would never use such a sly and cowardly method. If he had killed Glasbury, he would have thrust a sword into the scoundrel’s heart.”

  “You do not intend to help me at all, do you?”

  Knightridge posed the question with considerable irritation as he paced around the cell.

  Not that it permitted decent pacing. It was a tiny, damp chamber, but Julian knew it was one of Newgate’s best. His friends had bribed the warden to ensure the new inmate received the best treatment the prison could afford, such as it was. His status as a gentleman’s son and a solicitor had gotten him a bit of deference as well.

  “This is the trouble with men like you,” Knightridge snapped. “When you finally fall in love you suddenly become stupid. I am personally insulted that you had so little confidence in me that you thought up this ridiculous—what statements did you make to the coroner’s jury?”

  “I said almost nothing. I could not deny that I was not home that night. I admitted I could not prove my movements in the city. I refused to answer questions regarding my relationship with the countess—”

  “Lot of good that will do, man. The whole country knows about that.”

  “All the same, as a gentleman I refused to discuss it.”

  “Did you at least deny that you killed him, damn it?”

  “Of course. Doesn’t everyone deny it?”

  “Don’t get flippant with me, Hampton. Jesus. ” Knightridge stared at the floor. “Fine. Let me make sure I understand. Your movements are suspect, and you cannot prove you were not at Glasbury’s. You have been having a very indiscreet affair with the countess, but the earl had made no moves toward the divorce you hoped for. Worse, h
e initiated a petition for restoration of his conjugal rights. He threatened to intefere with a project in which you are invested, and you are the partner least likely to survive the financial blow if he succeeded. There was a public argument that evening and you had to be restrained and announced you would have satisfaction.”

  The litany left Knightridge scowling more deeply and shaking his head with dismay.

  “They also have some papers of mine, it appears.”

  “Papers?”

  Julian described them. “In a few, while in deep melancholies, I fantasized about killing Glasbury.”

  “Wonderful.” Knightridge paced some more. “I intend to find out how they came into possession of your papers. That may lead somewhere.”

  “I would prefer you not do that.”

  Knightridge crossed his arms over his chest. “If it is your goal to hang—”

  “It is not my goal to hang. However, you are to do nothing that will shift suspicion back on the countess. Nothing. You are to keep her as removed from this as possible.”

  “Damned little is possible here, let alone that. She is in the thick of it. I will do what I can for you, Hampton. I am relieved you do not care to hear false hopes, however, since I cannot even offer those at this point.”

  As if losing Julian was not bad enough, Pen was forced to abandon him for three days. Her brothers tucked her into a coach and brought her to Glasbury’s country seat in Cambridgeshire for his funeral.

  There she had to play the widow in a public ritual and procession, when everyone present blamed her for the earl’s death. Her brothers stood by her side, their faces carved in stone, staring down anyone who looked her way too long.

  After the burial, after the polite condolences, after she had borne more glances and seen more whispers than she ever thought to endure, she retired to the library with Laclere and Dante. She tried to restore herself before she had to continue the display by playing hostess to the lords who had served as pallbearers.

  She felt like a stranger in this huge house. It had never been her home. Glasbury preferred that obscure, isolated house in Wiltshire when he went to the country. No guests ever visited there. No house parties were held. When they retreated from town life, it was for privacy that permitted Glasbury to indulge in a very special kind of sport.