“Liar,” she intoned. “How have you come to be here? I looked for you when we came back. Everyone said you must have died in the war.”
“No such luck for England, I’m afraid. Alive and well and living in London with my family. And now taking care of the baby sister I neglected for too long.” He brushed the hair off her forehead. “Any more explanations can wait until you are stronger.”
“But I want—you have a family? Children? I heard about Jeremy, of course. And Papa. It was all so—Heavens, my head hurts.”
Charlotte bustled in on the heels of a maid, saying, “All right, now shoo, John. You, too, Wellbridge. Ladies only until I give you leave.”
Charlotte’s efficiency shut both men out of a small circle of space around the bed, and when she started to close the bed curtains, John stood up, stretching his back. “I’ll return as soon as I can, Bella. I have some business to attend. You take care of the megrim.”
“Megrim?” Charlotte queried. “Does your head hurt?” Bella winced as she nodded. “Well, I suppose that isn’t a surprise.”
Eyeing John and Nick, Bella whispered, “But I need the…the necessary.”
Charlotte waved the men out. “Alexander will be finished at The Lords soon, so it would be an excellent idea to collect him at Westminster and impose on Wellbridge’s sister for dinner, since Lady Allison has been asking how she can help.”
Nick objected, “You know I can’t—”
Charlotte would hear no argument. “A romantic hero may be seen on the streets when a common criminal cannot, and I insist you hie yourself elsewhere for the nonce. You’ll not be needed here for some time.”
Bella’s forehead wrinkled. “Criminal?”
Charlotte patted Bella’s shoulder while the gentlemen made noises toward a departure, whispering out the side of her mouth, “Once they have gone, I will tell you everything.” Returning her attention to the men, she added, “Wellbridge, Blakeley has been waiting in your guest room with new clothes for days, and no doubt he has something for evening. I just sent up hot water for the bath you sorely need.”
“The lady of the house has noticed you smell bad, Wellbridge,” John laughed, “and you look fagged to death. You could do with a good meal, but I won’t sit at your table until you bathe and put on clean smalls.”
John clapped Nick on the shoulder and guided him through the door. Nick struggled against him every step but moved too slowly to put up a real challenge against John’s years of experience steering fighting men against their will.
Nick growled at John’s mockery and his coxswaining, but didn’t have the stamina to curse him; once Bella had opened her eyes, ten days of sitting vigil had descended like the lid of a coffin. He would be lucky to make it all the way to the guest room, much less his sister’s house for dinner. He stumbled on the hall carpet, and John grabbed his elbow to keep him on his feet.
“Do you never tire, Smythe?”
“Not since my first battlefield. One eye open and all that.”
Before they stepped out of hearing range, Charlotte poked her head out the door and called, “Tell my abigail she’s needed, please, and ask Corbel to send for the doctor.”
Before either man could respond, she shut the door again. A footman down the hall indicated he had heard the order and would see it carried out.
“So, why am I leaving Bella for the evening?” Nick grumbled.
“So she can change her nightrail and scrub her teeth before she is faced with your undying devotion.”
“She needn’t—”
John held out his hand to stop the objection. “Never concern yourself, Wellbridge. We have mapped out the strategy among us. You must simply do as you are told.”
“I resent the—”
John raised one brow and stopped the grievance before it gained ground. “An innocent man, you must agree, does not hide in the dark with his light o’ love. An innocent man might, instead, be seen in an open carriage outside Westminster on the way to share supper with the countess’ family, to show there is nothing improper in the association.”
“I don’t see what—”
“Why don’t you go find your valet,” John suggested, guiding Nick toward the stairs. “I’ll send up coffee and make all the arrangements, then drink a good measure of Firthley’s excellent whisky while I wait. I’ll meet you in the front hall at half past the hour.”
Chapter 30
“No, my sweet,” Bella chided, “We will play in the garden, but I am too tired to carry you.” Jewel had been hanging onto Bella’s skirts from the first moment her aunt changed out of her dressing gown and moved from bedchamber to sitting room. Bella had since been allowed to sit in the drawing room and at the dining table, and had thrice visited the nursery.
After almost a month at the Firthley’s townhouse, Bella was finally spending a promised afternoon alone with her niece. Though still too weak for excursions, Jewel was just as happy to stay at home. At Bella’s behest, Charlotte had gone shopping, and the nursemaid had taken Alex for an outing to the park, Alexander was out on Parliamentary business, and Nick had finally—at long last—been sent home. After Malbourne, Bella cherished Nick beyond price, but had never considered how tiring an overzealous suitor might be.
Jewel slid one hand into her aunt’s palm. “I was thcared you would thleep forever, Auntie Bella.” The other tugged at her yellow cotton dress, just slightly too small. Charlotte complained Jewel grew out of her clothes before the dressmaker could finish sewing them. “Everyone was ever tho thcared, and Mama was ever tho croth.”
Bella bent down and wrapped Jewel in a tight hug, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry I scared you so badly, my sweet, but I am quite recovered now.” She hoped Jewel was too young to notice the falsehood; the dark circles under her eyes and more-than-intermittent headaches belied her words.
Opening the door to the garden, she ushered Jewel out, saying, “We shall just have to make up the lost time.” The combined scents of mint, dill, and fennel assailed her senses, the freshness breathtaking after so many days cooped up inside. She moved carefully, to avoid setting off the pain in her temples, and took a seat on a bench under an ancient beech tree, letting her hand drift across a mass of sweet pea blossoms.
“Never fear, my sweet.” Bella ruffled Jewel’s hair, setting the yellow ribbon askew. “We shall go somewhere special for your birthday. Just two more weeks, and you will be a grown-up girl of six, will you not?”
Jewel giggled while Bella tidied her pigtails. “Theven, Auntie Bella!” The little girl leaned onto Bella’s legs, grasping her hand, tugging at her skirt.
“Seven?” Bella feigned shock. “My goodness! I must have been asleep longer than I thought, for you to have grown so big. Big enough for lions and tigers, do you think?”
“The Lion Tower? Yeth!” The shrill yell started the throbbing, as Jewel ran off the exhilaration, jumping up and down among the flowers, assuredly destroying months of the gardener’s work, and her kid slippers.
If Bella hadn’t been so tired, she would have stopped Jewel, made a lesson of taking gentle care of plants and flowers. As it was, though, she just agreed, “All right, then, I promise. The Lion Tower for your birthday.”
“You may wish not to make promises to the little girl you will not keep, Madame.”
Jewel shrieked, and an instant later, Michelle grabbed her with a large hand over the little girl’s mouth.
Leaping up, Bella reached for her niece, but stopped short. Michelle held a long kitchen knife easily in her other hand, now directed at Jewel’s throat. Wiggling and squirming, the child’s muffled screams were hindered by the Frenchwoman’s implacable hand.
“I do not wish to hurt the little girl. She has done nothing wrong. But you will do what I say, or she will die before your eyes.”
Bella spoke more softly and calmly than she ever had. “That’s right, Michelle. She’s done nothing wrong. Let her go.”
“If you both do as I say, I will no
t harm her. I will not like to kill another child.”
Bella spoke softly to Jewel. “Be still, little one. Be very quiet and still and do what you are told. Do you understand?”
Jewel stared at her aunt with wide eyes. Slowly, she nodded, and Bella smiled as best she could to reassure her. Jewel’s struggles ceased, her body stretched tight as a halyard.
Bella returned her focus to Michelle. “What is it you believe I have done?”
“You pretend you do not know? You have killed the man I love and pretend you have done nothing wrong?” Michelle’s voice rose above the volume of Jewel’s muted whimpers. “You privileged whores believe a title before your name means you may do anything, destroy anyone, simply because you choose it. But this time not so, putain.”
“I did not kill Lord Malbourne, Michelle.”
“Were it not for you and your English duke, right now I would be in bed with my duke. My lover since we were ten, and it makes no matter we will not marry. All he wants from you is this simple thing, to become une Duchesse de France, but you are too stupid to know what honor he bestowed. So simple, a marriage contract, a few words, and then you will be in France and can take a lover to fill your time. I keep your secrets from your husband and bring you the English duke to dally with, and I will keep Monseigneur happy, as ever.”
Ready to say anything to get Jewel out of the woman’s hands, she tried, “You are right about Monsieur le Duc. I can understand your love for him.”
“You lie, Madame. I have heard you speak of him in the harshest words. You and all of your protectors in that house.” She gestured with her chin toward the back windows. “For your duplicity, the man you love is gone. He has finally left to eat at his own table, and it will have a very special spice.”
Bella almost fainted. Nick had argued for an hour against leaving, twice, not willing to take even enough time away to check on his own house and staff. So, once Charlotte was on the way to the shops, Bella told Nick he was ridiculous for hanging about, demanding he not return before breakfast tomorrow. John had finally shamed him into it, saying Nick was hardly the only man in the house who could hold a firearm, and he could at least let someone else have a chance to act the knight in shining armor. Then, of course, her obstinate brother refused absolutely to leave her in the house alone. Michelle standing here meant she might have somehow gone through John first.
“It is good torture, I think, to leave you no man and no children to love, you barren cow.”
Jewel started fighting in earnest, tossing her shoulders side-to-side, throwing Michelle off-balance while Bella watched every jerk of the flailing knife in horror. Given the slightest opportunity, she would risk the blade to yank Jewel away, but the chance never came. She could only keep the flashing tip of the dagger in her sight, praying it would not be blood-soaked before this was done.
When Jewel’s tiny foot came down on Michelle’s toes, the Frenchwoman hit her on the head with the hilt of the knife, not rendering Jewel unconscious, but stunning her into submission. Once the little girl’s mind registered the strike, her yelling and crying gained volume, stifled underneath Michelle’s hand, but it took only moments for Michelle to physically restrain her again.
“You are wrong, Michelle,” Bella tried, hoping to keep the woman talking about anything at all, rather than carrying out her plans for Jewel. “I’ve told you many times before. I do not love Ni—the duke. He is just a friend of my husband.”
“You compound your lies. I have heard you with him. But you will not speak your tender words to him again. Of that you may be sure, conasse.”
“How did you manage to—”
“You English. So concerned for the character of your servants, but so trusting of a piece of paper. Never checking it is not false.”
“I see. And no one thought to investigate Nick’s servants, only mine and Charlotte’s.”
“We have had a girl in his kitchens for weeks now, to make sure he pays for his insults to Monsieur le Duc. Now, of course, the insult is much greater, but he will make payment, all the same.”
From the corner of her eye, Bella saw a slight movement at the kitchen garden door, and she willed herself not to look, not wanting to draw Michelle’s attention to any potential rescue, praying it wasn’t some awful compatriot of Michelle and Malbourne, still bloodthirsty after killing everyone inside.
Bella took a very slow, small step forward. After all of the weight she had lost, her mourning dress dragged on the ground, and she hoped she could advance slightly while hiding her steps behind the black wool.
“You will stay where you are, Madame, or I will take the life of this little girl you pretend is your own.”
The garden door opened slightly and Bella prayed Jewel’s muffled sobs would cover the squeak of its hinges. When she saw John’s face peek out, shushing her with a finger over his lips, eyes taking in the scene, she did her best to distract Michelle, keep her turned away from the door, knowing it meant Jewel was outside John’s line of sight. She took a step to the right and spoke a bit louder so John could slip across the garden path to a spot five feet closer, behind a raspberry hedge.
“She is a child, Michelle.” She added, for John, “Not even as tall as your shoulder.” He nodded his understanding. “Let her go. I will get down on my knees and give you my throat if you just let her go. Please. No, Jewel, sweeting, be very still. Don’t struggle.” The knife’s edge was far too close to the girl’s neck. “Hush, hush. Be a brave girl for me. Just be very still. Yes, that’s it. Very still.”
Once Jewel quieted again, Bella gave Michelle her attention, so John could move forward another ten feet. “I’m not sure how you think you will accomplish so many murders, Michelle. The house is surrounded by soldiers.”
“Not such good soldiers, as I have been sleeping in this garden, slipping in and out all hours, for more than a fortnight.”
Not such good soldiers, indeed. Bella felt the blood drain from her face. She feared for the men under her brother’s command, seeing his emotions controlled by a will so strong iron bars might be keeping his jaw in line. She anticipated dozens of floggings ordered—probably delivered—by her brother for this appalling oversight.
“I am reminded of spying for Monseigneur during la Grande Terreur, but this time, I will avenge him and atone for his family. I will take the lives of everyone in this house before I am finished, Madame. Everyone you love.”
John aimed his pistol at the back of Michelle’s head, point blank, only inches above Jewel’s ringlets, and shot.
Chapter 31
Before the knife clattered to a stop on the garden path, Bella reached out and grabbed her niece from underneath the fallen Frenchwoman, away from the sight of Michelle missing half of her skull. Before anyone could do or say anything, Bella dragged Jewel inside through the conservatory into the dining room, where any number of John’s men were milling about, awaiting his instructions.
As she cleared the threshold, she heard John call out, “Three of you men come here to secure the garden.” They only waited long enough to bow when Bella and Jewel passed through the doorway.
Struggling under the weight of Jewel glued to her side, Bella all but fell into the room. Her niece hung on her bloody skirts like a limpet, screaming, crying, kicking at the ground instead of walking. The headache that had been threatening was long past the point of unbearable, until Bella’s eyes were unfocused and ears ringing. All heightened by the shrieking, crying panic of a six-year-old for whom Bella was terrified.
Once they made it to relative quiet in the drawing room, Bella crouched down and shook Jewel to break the hold of the hysteria, barking, “Julia Minerva Marloughe, stop that caterwauling this instant and listen to me!” Jewel swallowed and choked, still reeling, but took in Bella’s forcibly collected face and put two fingers in her mouth. The tears still ran, but the terror had receded for them both.
Mercifully, Jewel had yet to notice the blood covering her hair and clothes. Bella hugged her
tightly, trying to restrain the rage threatening to engulf her along with everything else. “You are such a very brave girl, sweeting, but I must be sure your parents and brother are safe. Do you understand?” Still sobbing and clutching Bella’s shoulders, Jewel nodded.
Pointing to three of the soldiers, Bella instructed, “Two of you, please take Jewel to the study and watch over her, weapons at the ready. One of the maids can clean her and bring a dress and her china doll from the nursery. Another man find the nursemaid—she’s gone to the park with Master Alex, possibly Gunter’s—and stay on the alert once you find them. If any harm befalls my niece or nephew, I will give testimony to the king. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
“Yes, my lady.”
She turned back to Jewel. “These men will protect you, and you must stay in your papa’s study upstairs with them. No running off. No coming after me. You do exactly what they say, no matter what happens, and you must tell Nurse to do the same. Can you do that for me?” Jewel nodded weakly. “I will come find you in a very little while.” She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and pointed it out to Jewel. “Before the big hand reaches the six on your Papa’s big clock. I promise.”
“Yeth, Auntie Bella,” Jewel sobbed, but finally let go of her aunt’s hair. She stuck a third finger into her mouth and backed away from the men dressed exactly like her cousin, who had just left her covered in blood.
The older of the two shrugged off his coat and bent over to take Jewel’s hand, assuring Bella, “She will be safe, my lady. I have children of my own.” The other man followed his comrade’s lead, also removing his coat to look less like a soldier. Neither, of course, left off his weapons.
“Come along, Lady Julia. Chilcott will go find your nurse, and you and I can find a storybook or a game in your Papa’s study. Does he keep storybooks for you?” He led her away, though Jewel kept watching Bella until they turned the corner.
Bella turned to another man. “Do you know the Duke of Wellbridge’s residence? Dalrymple House in Grosvenor Square?”
Royal Regard Page 35