A Question of Love

by Angeline Fortin

  “And you know her so well now?” Francis raised a brow. “Just what was that when I came in anyway?”

  Raising both hands, Haddington backed away with a mocking smile. “Just comforting the damsel in distress, old man, nothing more. You needn’t worry.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  “Good, then, tell me what else happened this morning.”

  “What do you mean?” Francis hedged.

  “I’ve known you since we were in short pants, MacKintosh,” Jack raised a brow. “Give over, something’s eating at you and it isn’t the husband.”

  With a sigh, Francis gave in, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s Vanessa.”

  “What’s the bitch up to now?” Jack went to the sideboard and poured drinks for them both, handing one to Francis.

  “The problem is, I’m not entirely certain.” Francis took a long swallow of the strong Scots whisky and winced as it burned its way down. Satisfied, he took another. “She came at me this morning as I was leaving the solicitor. She was hanging on me and begging me not to be so cruel to her and such. She was wailing like a banshee, bringing all kinds of attention down upon us.”

  “Odd, that.” Jack drank as well. “But we knew that she’d been trying to gain the sympathies of the Society ladies. Perhaps she is just trying to broaden the scope of her supposedly tragic life.”

  “But to what end?” Neither had an answer. Francis himself was becoming more bemused by the entire situation. Their marriage had never involved the fiction Vanessa was now spewing. There had been anger, for sure, over the whole situation and her infidelities, but he had never raised a hand to her, no matter how richly she had deserved it. With a mind not far from adolescence, his worst revenge had been to match her in the number of lovers he took. Violence had never occurred to him. His father had been a man who honored his wife and Francis had patterned his attitude toward women after that example. At worst, he had been reduced to verbal expression.

  So, Vanessa was creating lies, making a spectacle of herself. That act might have garnered some sympathy for her and a little speculation about him, but it wasn’t going to make her innocent in anyone’s eyes or grant her respectability. No one liked a woman who made an exhibition of herself. Surely she knew, despite her pleas, that he would never take her back! What was her purpose then? And what was Shaftesbury’s role in this whole mess? It was a perplexing situation.

  “Perhaps we should find some of her former lovers to rebuke the gossip with the truth of her infidelity,” Jack suggested, while they both rolled the problem around in their heads.

  “I’d rather that scandal not raise its ugly head again.”

  “And being seen as a wife-beater and abuser is better than being a cuckold?” Jack snorted.

  “Thank you, my friend,” came the sarcastic retort. “I just wish I could figure out what they are planning.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  Chapter 40

  Eve was just climbing into bed that night when the door opened and Francis slipped quietly into her room. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here, Francis, especially right now.”

  “I should always be here,” he answered softly. “Especially right now.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace. After a moment, she returned his hug. “How are you, paradise?” he whispered into her hair. “You haven’t come back downstairs all day. Did you eat at all?”

  “Some,” she lied. “Mostly I spent the day in the nursery. I am so flooded with feeling. I’m shocked, stunned… scared,” Eve admitted with a sigh. “Terrified. Exhausted. I can’t believe this is happening, Francis. It was hard enough to deal with getting married again, no offense intended of course.”

  “None taken.”

  “But now I have to deal with a divorce as well.”

  “Then you haven’t changed your mind?” The relief in his voice was evident. He had feared with Shaftesbury’s veiled threat to Laurie that Eve would give in without argument. While a part of him wouldn’t have blamed her, he had come ready to argue the issue.

  “No, not at all,” she told him with a negative shake of her head. “I will not remain married to him. I just need to find a way to keep Laurie out of it.”

  “I am proud of you, my love.” Francis turned with her in his arms and sat in one of the armchairs in front of the fire, pulling Eve into his lap where she snuggled in and rested her head on his shoulder. It felt so very good to have his strength and comfort. She had not realized until just that moment how much she needed him, his presence, to see her through this. What a fool she had been, wish-washing back and forth about whether she should marry him. He had fought for her, she should have known all along that she should fight for him as well.

  “I’m so sorry, Francis,” she whispered. “I have kept you on pins and needles all week, vacillating about our relationship, when I should have told you I’d marry you from the beginning. I showed no faith in you. I doubted whether it might work out and now look at us, with an even bigger fight ahead. No, I haven’t changed my mind. I knew over a year ago I could never live with William again and I do not intend to.”

  Francis squeezed her close and clapped a hand hard to her bottom. “Ooo, what was that for?” she squealed.

  “For keeping me guessing.”

  “Not nice!”

  “I could kiss it and make it better…” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Eve’s eyes widened at the idea before she shook her head. “Just stay with me tonight and hold me. I might have made some broad leaps lately but I’m not sure I’m ready to explore what might possibly be adultery yet. I just want to feel the strength of you while I sleep.”

  “Well, there’s something we haven’t tried yet,” he teased with a sexual undertone. But acquiescing without argument, he stood, lifting her in his arms and carried her to the bed. Leaving her to scoot under the covers, he shed his clothes quickly and climbed in beside her, pulling her close to his side. The heat of his body warmed her instantly as she rested her head on his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart, his arms strong in their embrace but not uncomfortably tight.

  She listened for a moment to his heart, his steady breathing and the crackle of the fire. Never had she felt as safe and secure as she did at that moment. It would be all right, she thought. It would work out. It might take time; Francis’ divorce had taken years to be finalized. It would definitely take effort. But it would be alright in the end, as long as they had each other.

  “I will need to go home to Da as soon as possible, I think,” she murmured as she ran her fingers through the rough hair that covered Francis’ chest. “We were married in New York and Da has several friends who are judges in high positions. He should be able to pay off enough people to get the thing done quickly.”

  “Very practical way of going about it,” Francis chuckled, thinking of Shaftesbury’s surprise were they to leave the country without his knowledge. Would serve the bastard right to wonder where they had disappeared to.

  “If we can get it into the records as abandonment before William thinks to go to the Queen and Parliament to regain the title, it might hold up without having to have Parliament approve it as they needed to do for you.”

  “Maybe.” Again he wasn’t sure of the legalities of it all. Could a lord gain a divorce without parliamentary procedure? Did the American laws supersede? All he knew was that he wanted her freed from her marriage as quickly as possible. He wanted her for his own wife! He had already started planning for their wedding and didn’t want to be put off for long. “We really need to go as soon as possible then.”

  “You will come with me?”

  “To the ends of the earth, paradise.”

  “I love you so much.” Eve yawned against his chest.

  “As I love you. Sleep, paradise, we will figure it out in the morning.”

  Chapter 41

  Vanessa returned to her hotel suite that evening in high spirits, following a midnig
ht rendezvous with a young lawyer she had met at the hotel’s restaurant, and whispered into the shadowy rooms. “Shaftesbury, are you there?”

  “You needn’t whisper, my dear,” the past Earl of Shaftesbury’s voice replied from the darkness. “There is no one nearby to overhear you.”

  Vanessa turned a knob on the wall, raising the gas lights up enough to locate Shaftesbury in the room. She discovered him ensconced comfortably in an armchair near the empty fireplace, sipping from a glass of her best brandy. “Well, I merely thought to be careful since you wanted no one to know you are here.”

  “You know as well as I that it is best for our plan’s success that you are seen with no male company at this point. However I realize that might be nigh impossible for you,” he drawled. He had managed to keep his identity veiled despite his confrontation with Glenrothes at the Roxburghe ball. In the best circumstances, he would have taken Evelyn without anyone being the wiser, but unfortunately that portion of his plan had failed. The second part would not.

  “You’ve kept me waiting, my dear.”

  “Sorry, my lord.”

  “But at least your day went well, I hear, better than I had even hoped. The town is abuzz with tales of Glenrothes’ temper and vile deeds. However did you get him to throw you down on the cobbles this morning, my dear? It was quite brilliant.” Ashley-Cooper tossed out the compliment knowing that she would seize upon it. Like a dog offered a juicy bone.

  “He was so angry, I’m not even sure he realized he had done it.” Vanessa dropped into his lap and kissed his bruised jaw and swollen nose before hugging his head to her bosom. “I told you he had developed a vile temper, didn’t I?”

  “You did indeed.” Shaftesbury withdrew from her embrace and pushed her off his lap, with a firm squeeze of her breasts to soften the rejection. He had shared her bed several times over the past week. A year without female companionship was enough for any man to bear and she was ever so enthusiastic a bed partner, nearly insatiable in fact. She had served her role in that capacity as well as being the catalyst to ruining Glenrothes’ image, but neither role compared to the part she was to play in the next phase of his revenge. Now she would take center stage as the play reached its climax. “Everything has progressed brilliantly. You have done such a neat job of it, in fact, I believe we may proceed with the next part of my plan.”

  She shrugged and went to pour herself her own drink. “The persona we developed for Glenrothes has borne truth through our recent encounters. He should already be feeling the sting of Society’s scorn through the cut direct from them all. So what is next?”

  “I have an urgent need for my wife to accompany me back to London as soon as possible. I’m under some amount of pressure to regain the fortune she has denied me by declaring me dead and only she can provide me what I need. At the same time, however, a reprimand is needed to demonstrate my power over her… a bit of retribution for her defiance and shameful behavior.” He templed his fingers and stared at Vanessa thoughtfully before rising and moving to the window.

  “Retribution?” she parroted, confused. “But when do I get my money?” Shaftesbury had explained to her who his wife was, or rather who her father was, and assured her he would pay handsomely for her aid in separating his wife from Glenrothes. She would most certainly need the funds to get by if she were to be unsuccessful in reengaging Francis after Shaftesbury forced the countess back to England. Vanessa’s father had long ago disowned her for her ‘disgraceful’ behaviors, though she didn’t think anyone else was aware of that fact. She had been on her own with only the money she had extorted from Glenrothes three years before and was running low on funds. She doubted her father would rouse himself to help her in anything beyond protecting the Westmoreland name.

  “You will get your reward, my dear, when I have got my bit of revenge for the trouble my wife and her lover have caused me. This entire situation is quite beyond humiliating. Glenrothes has made a whore of my wife.” His eyes narrowed as he flicked aside the curtains and looked down into the empty street. “For that they will both suffer.”

  “What are you going to do? Torture her?”

  “No, I have something much better in mind,” he answered. “I think to make her truly suffer I cannot hurt her directly, but rather hurt someone she loves.”

  Vanessa had the grace to look mildly concerned. “I may not be the best person alive but I don’t hold with hurting children, Shaftesbury.”

  “Not my son, you twit.” He was really getting tired of the woman. She truly had the most base intelligence. It was no wonder Glenrothes had gotten rid of her so long ago. “To make my wife truly suffer, I will have her watch someone she loves” – he drawled the word – “suffer in her place. Someone who deserves to be punished for touching what is mine.”

  “Francis?” she wondered out loud in surprise. “You can’t kill him! If you do I’ll get nothing! Everything else would go to Richard.”

  “I am not going to kill him. That would be over much too fast without the necessary pain and suffering on his part. No, it must be something with a bit more of a lasting effect.”

  “Like what? He’s got more money than Croesus, you know?” she informed him. “The worst blackmail would hardly put a dent in his bank account.”

  William rolled his eyes. “Is money all you think about?” he sneered. “No, my dear, the punishment I have in mind for him will ruin him completely. It will blacken his name and deny him his life.”

  “I don’t understand,” she insisted. “I thought you were just planning on ruining his reputation. What else can you do to him? He is Glenrothes, do you know what that means?”

  “Scottish titles,” Shaftesbury dismissed with a sniff. “They mean nothing and it doesn’t make him above the law.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “Well, my dear,” he said circling the room thoughtfully, running his finger along the sideboard and examining his dirty finger with a frown. “I am going to have him arrested and when I have Evelyn back in England, she will suffer not knowing of his fate, whether he lived or was hanged for his crimes. The process will be long and painful but with no chance of reprieve. In the end, Glenrothes will meet the hangman as punishment for his actions. They will both suffer.” His smile was one of evil satisfaction.

  “A peer can only hang for murder,” Vanessa informed him, feeling a bit of uncertain panic race through her as Shaftesbury relayed his plan. “Even I know that. Anything else is a slap on the wrist. How are you going to get him to kill someone? It will never work. He won’t do it.”

  “He doesn’t need to do it, you dimwit. Everyone just needs to assume it was him.” The earl circled the room as he neared her. “So it has to be someone he has a conflict with, someone who stands in the way of what he wants. Someone he has had a public confrontation with.” He traced the back of his fingers up her throat before turning his hand to cup her neck in his palm lightly. “Someone he conveniently threatened to strangle very recently.”

  “You?”

  “Why, my dear,” William drawled with a low chuckle, circling his thumb lightly against her throbbing pulse. “That would be most problematic for me. No, no, I was thinking more of his lovely ex-wife, of course.”

  Confusion crossed Vanessa’s features. “I don’t understand… that’s me!”

  “Yes, it is and you have played your part beautifully, providing motive for such an evil deed. Perfect, lovely motive.” With that, Shaftesbury wrapped both of his hands around her neck and squeezed, cutting off any sounds of protest as she fought against him, scratching at his hands and kicking wildly.

  Her face reddened as she stared at him. “Not at all what you expected, is it?” her murderer asked, his eyes lit with a feral glee. “It’s really quite a bit more than I did.”

  Only now when death was upon her did Vanessa see the evil in Shaftesbury. He had used her and now he was done with her. Stars burst behind her eyes as she felt unconsciousness creeping toward her from the bl
ackness beyond. More the fool I, she thought.

  The earl took several moments to enjoy her shock and pain before pressing his thumbs inward deeply effectively crushing her windpipe. He pushed her away and she fell to the ground, her eyes still open, staring at him, as the life slowly seeped out of her.

  “My dear twit.” The earl drew on his gloves as he looked down at her. Her lips were turning blue, now just shades lighter than her deep blue gown, and her eyes slightly bulging as her lungs struggled to pull air through her damaged windpipe. “You have been extremely helpful to me these past days. Truly, I couldn’t have accomplished all of this without you. Even in death you will be so useful. You will be discovered here in the morning. Given your past and most recent contretemps, the authorities will naturally assume Glenrothes killed you in his rage over the many lovers you had taken and your recent dramatics. He will be sent off to prison before losing his own life to the hangman’s noose. A fitting punishment for my wife, I think? To watch her lover die amidst a sea of public degradation?”

  Putting on his hat, he tipped it to her slightly, poking her with his cane. “I thank you for your valuable assistance.” He left without a backward glance.

  Chapter 42

  Francis snuck out of Eve’s room before dawn, leaving her sleeping. Nodding to Hobbes who stood, mouth agape, in the front hall, Francis went into the predawn mist back to his own home.

  He was just finishing bathing and dressing back at his townhouse when a knock came on the door of his rooms. Without waiting for an answer, Jack strolled in, looking tired and rumpled in his clothes from the previous evening. “Good, you’re up.”

  “Looks as though you haven’t even been to bed yet.”

  “Oh, I’ve been to bed, just haven’t slept.” Jack stretched with a cocky grin. “I had promised Lady Hamilton my evening. Energetic lass.”