Earl of Weston_Wicked Regency Romance

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Earl of Weston_Wicked Regency Romance Page 9

by Anna St. Claire


  “Now you have me concerned.” He propped himself up on one arm and faced her. When this overwhelming feeling of protectiveness had begun, he could not be sure, but he did not want anyone to harm even her feelings. He needed to let her talk. It was a lesson he had learned, and learned well, while working with the Crown.

  “I was tired and thought to go to my chambers to take a brief nap.”

  “Yes, I recall. You left early, so I followed shortly after.” He noticed her uneasiness.

  “Before you found me here, Edward, I passed Louisa’s parlor and heard arguing.”

  “Go on,” he urged, softly.

  “It was Louisa and her brother, Mr. Martin. They were arguing angrily. She was talking about a duel that he attended, and how his had killed a man. He told her to keep quiet or he would be forced to involve my brother—and implicate him...”

  “Wait. This duel, did they give any more specific details?” He felt sick to his stomach. Could it be possible that Martin was involved? There was the note Mother had given me. That was signed, ‘Martin.’ Could there be a connection, here?

  “Yes. I think they said it was almost a year ago.” She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Do you think this could have anything to do with—” she started, but stopped. “Could it involve my brother?” Her lower lip trembled.

  “I do not know, but I plan to find out. Soon.” He felt his anger welling up, but it had nothing to do with Hattie and everything to do with Mr. Martin. Surely it could not involve Lord Bentley as well? Edward realized he had to gain a better perspective, and be calmer, for Hattie. He shuddered to think of a friend being responsible for his brother’s death. Edward was almost sure this information was the piece of the puzzle he had been looking for all this time. He sensed this was the very same duel, which had taken his brother’s life. He wanted to read the note again, but he did not have it with him. He could ask his mother. Mayhap Mother knows more than she realizes. He had to know the connection to Robert. For the nonce, he needed Bergen.

  “Hattie, do you recall anything else?”

  “He said he had taken care of someone else and Louisa screamed at him, asking if he had killed another. A noise almost gave me away, so I did not hear anything else.” She said the words slowly.

  “I did not give you much opportunity to tell me this last night.” He addressed Hattie softly. “Wife, you have surprised me in more ways than one.” His voice fell to a whisper and he regarded her with gravity. “I am anxious to learn all there is to know about you as we grow old together, yet can I ask you to keep this information to yourself? Until I find out more about the matter, we need to keep this quiet.” A chilling thought stopped him. “They did not see you, did they?”

  “No. They were not paying any attention. Louisa said he needed to find another source for money since his blackmail scheme had failed, and that it was too dangerous for him to be seen here amongst friends of the man he had killed. He threatened to implicate my brother if she did not cooperate! They argued some more, and I heard her slap him, so I slipped away to our chamber. I worried how I could ask you about it until my head hurt. The next thing I knew, you had become my dream.”

  “Well, that is the first time a woman has ever given me such a compliment, my dearest.” He smiled warmly at her, before his voice took on a somber tone. “Hattie, my brother was important to me. On the last occasion we talked, we argued about my debts. I treated him badly...”

  “So, you are carrying guilt over his death,” she offered, her tone sympathetic.

  “Yes, mainly because I knew something and did not disclose it—his betrothed was unfaithful to him. I was angry and I behaved selfishly. Had I told him, I might have kept him from finding out in the way he did and, as a result, dying in a duel.” He had just shared something he had not intended. It was so easy to talk to her. “Hattie, I must ask that you do not speak of this to anyone else.”

  “Not even to your mother?”

  “Especially not to my mother.”

  “She cares for you, Edward.”

  “I do not want to discuss her right now.” He quieted her with a kiss. “We must get dressed. Let us break our fast together.”

  He appreciated that Bentley had allocated them a suite of rooms. He would go to his and ring for Gil. “I shall be back at half-past, my dear.”

  She nodded, smiling. “I will take a bath. I think the warm water will do me good.”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Hattie, one more thing I feel the need to share. I confess, with you I find myself more open than I have ever been, and truly, that scares me. So, I must ask again, for your promise to keep this just between the two of us.”

  “Edward, I promise.”

  “I believe you. It is about Robert’s death. You are speaking with Mother and I know that she believes I was engaged in my old activities at the time of Robert’s death...”

  She nodded, yet remained quiet.

  “I was not. I was working.”

  “Working? I am confused, husband. You have an…occupation?”

  “Well, yes and no.” He smiled at her lack of guile. “I have been an agent of the Crown. I was... although I am so no more. Robert died, and…”

  “And you had to come home.” She finished the sentence for him.

  “Yes. I was not here. As much as I wish I had been, I cannot change that.”

  “I understand, Edward.”

  “Thank you.” He squeezed her hand, kissed her cheek and then headed to his own bedchamber.

  Edward had some business to attend to, so Hattie decided to visit Archie and take him to the orangery. He had hopped up and down in delight to see her again and was equally ecstatic to fly around amongst the trees and flowers in the large, bright room despite the threatening sky outside. Hattie could not stop worrying about the argument she had overheard and how it would affect her brother—and perhaps her husband. Edward had been very concerned by what she had told him, and she had wanted to wipe his anxieties away. She had discovered an unexpected affection for her husband already, in more ways than one. Warmth from deep inside swept over her when she recalled precisely how they had spent several hours of their first day as man and wife. He had surprised her with his consideration and she found she was hopeful for the future. She strolled among the exotic plants while Archie flitted about overhead, the wheels in her mind turning furiously to find a way she could help her husband.

  Hattie plucked a flower and fidgeted with the pink petals as she cogitated what to do. Perhaps she could confront Louisa or Mr. Martin herself? Yet, how could she protect her brother? Her new husband was clearly pained by his own brother’s death, and she hoped to save him more heartache, if at all possible. The problem was, she did not know how to convince Louisa or Mr. Martin. She had never dealt with anyone of their ilk. Pleading to their sense of goodness or honour was unlikely to move them.

  “What are you fretting over, child?” A lady’s voice called to her.

  Hattie started and turned to find the source of the question. She discovered her new mother-in-law resting in a chair, in the corner with a view over the wide park with woodland beyond.

  “My apologies. I did not see you there, my lady.”

  “It is always wise to search your surroundings at a house party,” she advised. “You never know what you might happen upon at these things. Now, come sit by me and tell me what troubles you.”

  Hattie sat down obediently, but was afraid to pour her heart out when her husband had strictly forbidden it.

  “Are you afraid to tell me? I know more than you might give me credit for,” Lady Weston said wryly.

  “Oh, no, I... it is merely that Weston asked me not to speak to anyone about it.”

  “Even me?” She waved her hand. “Do not answer. I am sure he said especially me.”

  “He did not wish to worry you,” Hattie reassured her.

  “He does not wish me to meddle,” her ladyship corrected. “I do hope he will put himself on
the straight and narrow now that he has married.”

  “Was he so very wild?” Hattie asked.

  “No more than most boys his age with no prospects for a title, I expect. Many young men sow their oats, but what pains me most is his brother died while trying to help him. Edward was gallivanting in Paris, when Robert was killed in a duel.”

  “Edward mentioned he had made some poor choices.” Hattie frowned as the Dowager grunted her agreement in an unladylike fashion. “However, he was not gallivanting. I hope in time he will tell you what he was doing, for I think you would be proud of him.” She shifted uncomfortably, hoping she had not said too much.

  “I beg your pardon?” The Dowager regarded her with so much hope, and at the same time with so much pain and sadness, that Hattie could not bear it. “Please, Hattie. Tell me the whole of it, for it is long past time my son and I reconciled. I have already lost one son. I cannot lose another… and I fear greatly that I have.”

  Hattie could not find it in her heart to refuse Edward’s mother. Married just a day, and she was about to betray her husband’s trust. She felt sick.

  She shook her head. “He will be angry with me.”

  “Then he need not find out, need he? You were trying to think of how to help him, were you not? Perhaps I may lend my assistance. I know these people much better than you do. If I have wronged my son, then let me help to make amends. If it is any consolation, I probably have most of the information already, but just have not put it together properly. So you would not really be revealing secrets.”

  What Lady Weston said was true. And Hattie did want to help Edward. She sighed. “I can tell you what I know. I overheard Lady Louisa and Mr. Martin arguing as I went to rest last evening. Mr. Martin seemed to be making threats towards Louisa about my poor brother and I was anxious, but when I told Edward about it, he was more concerned about the duel they had also mentioned.”

  “I do wonder…” the Dowager said, appearing to be thinking. “I found a letter in Robert’s effects. It was signed by a Martin.”

  “Is it of significance, do you think?”

  “Perhaps it is. I wish I could recall the precise words, but it was requesting payment for Edward’s gambling debts, the week before the wretched duel.”

  “It has to be the same Martin!” Hattie exclaimed. “This must be what Edward surmised when I told him of the argument. He said he had unfinished business to deal with before we could leave. I must tell Richard if his wife and brother-in-law are involved in gambling schemes and duels. If Mr. Martin is desperate for funds, he will doubtless attempt to extract them from someone.”

  “Edward will need to pay if they are, in fact, his debts.”

  “Something in this does not make sense. Edward mentioned he was away when his brother died. How could he have gambling debts to Mr. Martin if he was away?”

  “Wait one moment. Perhaps we should arrange the matter ourselves,” the Dowager suggested with a gleam in her eye. “If he was attempting to cheat money from Robert, he will have no qualms about trying the same tactics on Edward.”

  “What can we do?”

  “I need to consider. Perhaps after my afternoon nap, I might have an answer. Pray Edward and Bergen do not do anything imprudent before I think of something.” The Dowager stood to leave and Hattie called Archie back to her.

  Archie nestled on her shoulder, making his purring sound in her ear, as she decided a walk would refresh her and give her time to think of her own plan. Taking an umbrella from the stand by the door, she made her way across the terrace and down the steps through the parterre garden. There was no formal walking path, but Hattie decided to head towards the lake which lay beyond the wide expanse of open field.

  “It looks the perfect distance, Archie. What say you?”

  “Pretty boy, pretty boy.”

  “I think so, too. Now, we must think of a way to help Edward and Richard,” she said to the bird. He put his head on one side; he was used to listening to her discourse about her problems or worries. “However, Mr. Martin is not a nice man. He was threatening to blackmail his own sister last night, so how can we keep him away from our dear Edward?”

  “Whoremonger! Whoremonger!”

  “Yes, dear, but we must find another name for you to call him,” she said in a stern voice as she rounded a hedge and almost bumped into a privy which stood beside a gardener’s shed. She was about to turn and walk away from it when she heard arguing again.

  She recognized the voices. Why was she forever overhearing Louisa and her brother, and in the most precarious of all places? Hattie knew she had to listen in. She held her nose and crept inside the privy, moving to the only knot-hole she could find and tried to look out. She whispered “shh” to Archie, praying the furtive pair did not discover her here, and her feathered guardian kept quiet.

  “This is all I could obtain, Philip,” Louisa said angrily as she shoved something into his hands.

  “It is a start, certainly,” he said in a musing tone. He ran a diamond bracelet through his fingers. “If you include the set, it might hold the creditors at bay, at least temporarily.”

  “No! There will be no more, Philip. You must find another way. You will ruin my marriage!”

  “You should have thought of that before losing your head at the faro tables, Louisa. Your losses rival those of the Duchess of Devonshire.”

  “Be that as it may, I have reformed my ways. There can be no more left to repay. I have been bled dry!” She crossed her arms and stamped her foot.

  “Interest, dear sister. Interest. You are fortunate I have managed this for you.”

  “Humph. What if Hampton decides to squeak? He may be as tired as I of paying. I saw Weston questioning him before you arrived. Hampton looked decidedly uncomfortable—and is now nowhere to be found.”

  “Do you think Weston suspects?” he asked. There was a very concerned look upon his face.

  “I am sure I do not know, brother. I think it best if you leave as soon as possible and rusticate for a while.”

  Louisa took his arm, as if to lead him away that very moment. He jerked out of her hold.

  “Not so fast. I need to discover what Weston knows.”

  “You cannot murder everyone who might know something, Philip! Hampton, Perry, Bergen…one peer is more than sufficient. They will make the connections quickly enough if you dispose of anyone else,” she growled at him angrily. “Now you must leave!”

  Hattie thought they would never stop talking. Now she needed them to hurry on. She was growing weary of being closeted in the outhouse, and did not know how much longer Archie would be quiet.

  “Perhaps you are correct. You go on ahead. I will gather my belongings and be out of your way today,” he said, clearly offended.

  “I do wish you well, brother, contrary to how this appears. I wish the situation were otherwise.” She kissed him on the cheek before hurrying away.

  “Jezebel!” Archie crowed.

  “Hush!” Hattie reprimanded and prayed Mr. Martin had walked out of earshot. He had not.

  “Who is there?” he demanded, banging on the door. “Come out at once!”

  Frantically, Hattie tried to think of a plan. She did not want this man to get away and kill Edward, but she had to manage to keep herself alive. Trembling, she unlatched the door and stepped out, grateful for the fresh air.

  “Good day to you, Mr. Martin. I apologize for monopolizing the privy. It is all yours.” She smiled in what she hoped was a foolish manner and tried to step away, while thinking feverishly of how to trap him.

  “You are not going anywhere, Lady Weston.” He lunged forward and tried to grab her arm.

  “Murderer! Murderer!” Archie shrieked and began to flap and peck at Martin.

  Chapter 9

  Good day, my lord! Welcome to the Red Lion. “May I take your coat and cane, my lord?”

  “Yes, thank you. I am meeting Lord Bergen.”

  “Very good, my lord. His lordship is waiting for yo
u in the taproom. This way.” The landlord nodded to one of his underlings, who led Edward to the taproom.

  Bergen was perusing a newspaper and sipping a brandy when Edward walked into the low-beamed room.

  “Weston! You look well. I had not considered that we would be spending time together just one day after the vows.” He flashed a grin. “This is a nice place. I did not realize such delightful accommodations existed here in Eynsham. However, I doubt screaming parrots would be welcome.” He pointed to the seat across from him. A snifter of amber liquid sat waiting on the walnut table. “I took the liberty of ordering you a brandy. I conjectured it must be important.”

  “It definitely is, or I would not have interrupted my wedded bliss to spend time with you.” Edward stared at the window, without seeing it. After a moment, he swung his gaze back to the room. “Bergen, I think I may know who killed Robert.”

  “How did you accomplish this? You were married only yesterday and in that space of time you have discovered the identity of the person responsible for your brother’s death? That is not the usual post-wedding activity, my friend.” He frowned and put down his brandy. “You have my complete attention.”

  “Hattie overheard an argument and she shared the details with me this morning.”

  “You think someone who attended your wedding killed your brother?”

  “I think it is highly possible.” He leaned forward. “Mr. Philip Martin—you recall his late arrival at the house party, do you not? He is brother to Louisa, Lady Bentley.”

  “Yes...and from everything I have heard about him lately, he is a blackguard. He is someone to avoid. Nonetheless, it will take some convincing for me to believe Lord and Lady Bentley were connected to anything to do with Robert’s death.”

  “I confess I am not sure of their involvement. I have reason to believe it is possible. My wife—” His blood quickened when he mentioned Hattie. “—was heading to her bedchamber when she overheard Mr. Martin and his sister arguing loudly. She said she heard them discuss the duel, and the death of a person involved in the duel—although they did not name him, I believe it to be Robert. She told me Lady Louisa referred to the time which had elapsed as being less than a year, and also that the person killed had friends at the house party. It is puzzling. Yet my instinct tells me it is the same duel.”

 

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