***
Ludovic was in exceedingly good humor upon rejoining his guests after the brief but torrid interlude with Diana, but his revelry was curtailed by the interruption of his head groom.
"Pardon yer lordship, but 'tis a matter most urgent." The ashen-faced jockey nervously twisted his cap.
"What the devil is it, Pratt?" DeVere demanded. "I've fifty some guests at present. Are you certain it cannot wait?"
"I fear not," Pratt answered his master with a grim face. "Mayhap it be best you come to the stables, milord. 'Tis sommat you must see for yourself."
DeVere made an irritated sound. "All right, then. Hew, pray see to the guests. I'll return as soon as I'm able."
Pratt led his master down to the stable block housing his guests' horses.
"Now what has my unflappable Pratt in such a lather?" DeVere demanded.
"Here, my lord," Pratt said, stopping in front of the oversized box which had earlier housed Lord Reggie's stallion.
DeVere frowned. "Where is the horse? And why did he not run this morning?"
"The poor beast was in a great agitation when we found him, my lord. Horses have an innate fear of death."
"Death?" DeVere repeated. "What the hell do you yammer on about?"
With trembling hands, Pratt slid the stall door open on its track. "'Tis a most gruesome sight, but we durst not move the body wi'out your express leave."
"Sweet Jesus!" DeVere cried out at the gory spectacle, his stomach lurching at the splattered blood and brain matter that clung to the walls. Adjusting to the initial shock, he stepped inside, taking care not to disturb the remains of Baron Reginald Palmerston-Wriothesley. "There's a pistol still in his hand."
"Aye, my lord. One would think he'd have dropped it."
DeVere was thinking the same thing. Something was horribly amiss. He stepped out with an impatient wave of his hand. "For God's sake, man, close it! What more do you know of this?" he demanded of Pratt as soon as the door slid shut.
"Almost nothing, my lord. His lordship's horses was cared for by his own groom, Johnson."
"And what of Johnson?"
"He be in fair sad condition hisself. We found him beside the baron. Looks like he was beaten senseless."
"Yet he lives?"
Pratt shrugged. "For now."
"Where is he?"
"Bedded down at me own cottage. Dr. Stone's been sent for, but little good t'will likely do."
"Has anyone yet notified the magistrate?"
"Not yet, my lord."
"Sir John Gooding is the Justice of the Peace, is he not? Pray locate him for me, Pratt. And send some men out to make discreet inquiries. I wish to know who was about during the races."
"Aye, surely, my lord." Pratt tugged his forelock.
"And Pratt, you know that the Baroness is amongst my company. It is my particular wish to shield her ladyship from any word of this. She had best not hear anything except from my own lips. Do you understand?"
"Aye. But what of the afternoon race, my lord?"
"Regardless of my personal dislike for the man, one cannot ignore that a death has occurred under my own roof. There will be no further racing this afternoon."
***
Diana waited with fretful anticipation for DeVere after learning of his departure and hearing Hew's vague explanation. "There was some commotion in the stables that demanded his attention, but I'm sure my brother will return shortly."
"But what of Reggie?" Diana asked. "He has not come back either." Wondering if her husband was the real cause of DeVere's unexpected departure, her unease was rapidly increasing.
"I have seen nothing of Lord Reggie since this morning," Hew said. "If you will please pardon me now, my lady, it seems I must dance attendance on our new arrivals."
"Of course, my apologies for keeping you." She gave him a nod.
Diana then took herself out to the back terrace where she would have a view of anyone approaching from across the park separating the house from the stables. She wondered if Reggie had confronted DeVere and how he might perceive the situation. Would he believe that she had set out deliberately to seduce him to give Reggie grounds to sue? After all, it was she who had come to him in the dead of night. Dear God, she was out of her depth!
After a half hour of restless pacing, she'd had enough. With her skirts in hand, she sallied forth across the park with a distinct sense of foreboding.
They came together near the yew maze. Although she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms, she halted in her tracks at the grim lines that hardened DeVere's features the moment he saw her. They faced each other for an interminable moment, each silently struggling to read the other. Her heart sunk. "You've seen Reggie," she said, certain now that he suspected her of conspiring with her husband.
DeVere's cobalt gaze bore into her. "I've seen him all right."
"I told you earlier there was something you needed to know, but you never gave me a chance to speak. Please believe me. It's not what you think." She noted with dismay the sudden tension that gripped his body and the distance he maintained between them.
"Not what I think?" He sounded like he would choke on the words. "And what precisely am I to think, Diana?"
"That Reggie is a desperate and unprincipled man who would use anything at his disposal to achieve his ends," she answered.
"Yes," he said with an accusing look that made her throat go dry. "Desperation does, indeed, bring out the very worst in all of us."
"Please, Ludovic." She grasped his sleeve, praying he would believe her. "I have nothing to do with this. I came to you for reasons of my own."
"By God, but you're good! I was completely taken in last night when you played the reluctant seductress. You would be a credit to the stage."
"You accuse me unjustly!" she said.
"Unjust! It's a bit late now to play coy, don't you think? I thought briefly in the beginning that you might have used the race as an excuse to lure me, to reclaim the deed, not that I really gave a damn because I wanted my cock inside you so badly. But then another better alternative occurred to you, or did you have this planned all along? I never would have suspected you of such duplicity, such ruthlessness. Did you come to me last night purely for my protection, thinking I might actually shield you?"
His harsh words struck her as a blow, yet she pressed on, determined to make him understand. "I hoped it would not come to that, but then I imagined how I might never be free of him without your help. I don't believe he would ever agree to a divorce, Ludovic. Thus, I did consider seeking your protection—if it became necessary to do so."
His gaze hardened. "Then you take much for granted, Diana."
She looked away with dismay. "After last night, I thought perhaps you might wish..."
His gaze narrowed, his jaw twitched. "I wished many things after last night, but matters seem to have taken a rather disconcerting turn. I may be a libertine but this? This, madam, is far beyond even my level of tolerance."
Her lips quivered. "Then I'm a fool." She had felt such a connection, such intimacy with him last night, that it had never occurred to her it wasn't mutual. But now it was clear she meant nothing to him beyond an evening's entertainment.
He laughed, a harsh sound. "No, my dear. Fool is the last word I would use to describe you. I would rather call your solution exceedingly clever. The set up. The timing. The alibi. All of it is quite brilliant, actually."
Set up? Alibi? Diana was baffled. "I don't understand you, Ludovic. Are you implying I had something to do with fixing the race? How can you suggest such a thing when your own brother rode my mare?"
"The race?" It was his turn to look confused. "My dear, the race is inconsequential at this juncture. I'm only concerned about how I'm supposed to deal with the dead body in my stables."
Diana felt the blood drain from her face."D-dead body? Dear God, Ludovic, what are you talking about?"
***
"Your dead husband's body!" he snarled. "What
the devil other body could we be talking about?"
Diana looked stunned. "R-Reggie? Dead?"
"Yes, dead."
"But how can that be? Was there an accident? Is that why the horse didn't run?"
"An accident? I suppose one might call it that if one could mistakenly place a pistol in one's mouth and pull the trigger." Her horrified expression made him instantly regret the blithe remark. He feared she might collapse.
"A pistol? In the mouth?" she repeated woodenly and sank to her knees in the grass.
With a groan of frustration abetted by sheer confusion, Ludovic squatted down beside her. "Do you mean to say you truly didn't know?"
"Know?" she whispered. "How could I possibly know such a thing?"
He clawed a hand through his hair. "Then what the devil were you saying just a moment ago? Please believe me, Ludovic. It's not what you think. Bloody hell! What am I to think when you just confessed to seeking my protection!"
"Protection as in becoming your mistress! Not as in shielding a murder! You think I killed him?" she answered incredulously. "How? How could I have done such a thing? I was with Edward and Annalee the entire time."
"Damn it, Diana!" he cried. "I thought nothing of the kind until you began talking nonsense about secrets and things I should know."
"I was trying to warn you that Reggie threatened extortion. That he found out about you and me and intended to take you to the courts of law."
"That's nothing less than I would have expected from that pusillanimous pile of—" He caught himself. "I'm sorry."
She waved the apology away, but her lips quivered, and her eyes glistened. He couldn't tell if it was with grief or rage. "How could you think me capable of such wickedness?"
Rage then. He groaned. "What the hell was I to think?"
"But to even imagine for a moment!" she argued.
"Look, Diana," he retorted. "I've just seen a man's brains splattered on a wall. I may not be in the most lucid state of mind at the moment."
"Dear God!" she whispered. "What happened?"
"I don't precisely know. In brief, my man, Pratt, found two bodies in your stallion's box. One was your unconscious groom, the other was what remains of your husband after he took a bullet through the mouth. The offending pistol was still in his hand."
"Suicide?"
"A highly suspicious one, if you ask me, but there will, of course, be an inquest. I have sent word to the J.P. I believe he will take charge of the entire affair."
"Reggie's really dead, then."
Was it shock or relief in her expression? "No man could survive what I saw."
"And Johnson? Has he spoken to anyone yet?" she asked.
"Johnson may never speak again. It's doubtful he'll recover his senses."
"Dear heavens." She sat in a protracted silence, her fingers convulsively ripping at the grass.
He gazed down on her with a feeling of puzzlement. "Are you all right, Diana?"
"What?" she answered blankly. "Yes, thank you. I'll be fine in a moment or two. It's just such a terrible shock."
He took her hand. She looked into his face. "What now?"
"Now, I think it only appropriate to call an end to the festivities."
***
The party broke up almost immediately upon Diana and DeVere's return. The only guests remaining were either directly involved in the questioning, or were those who lingered simply out of morbid fascination. Ludovic noted the Duchess of Beauclerc among the latter group.
"What are you still doing here, Caroline?" he demanded. "I thought you would have left with March."
"But what would I possibly want with him when I have you?" she purred.
DeVere stifled a curse. "This matter has passed well beyond tedious, Caroline. Although it was never my intention to humiliate you, you appear to be doing an excellent job on your own. It's finished between us. I don't know how to make myself any clearer."
"But there you are wrong, my love. It's only over if and when I say it's over. And I have not finished with you. Indeed, I think I should like to be your wife, Ludovic."
"Do you now? I never before thought you dull-witted. How do you propose to become my wife when I have no wish to wed you or anyone else?"
She chuckled low and long. "But darling, you only need proper motivation."
"Motivation? There is nothing on earth that would move me to join my name with yours."
"No? How about to avoid the scaffold? Many men have been moved to far worse fates to save their skins."
He seized her silk and lace-clad arm. "What the devil are you talking about?"
She raised her chin defiantly. "I speak of the murder of the Baron Palmerston-Wriothesley, of course."
"That's a ridiculous and groundless speculation," he snarled. "Were you a man, I would call you out on the spot."
"Groundless? Oh I think not! For who stood to gain more by the Baron's death than you? Unless it's the poor, grieving widow who is now left penniless? But what if the two of you had confederated? What a wicked, wicked notion that is!" she cackled.
"You really think I would resort to killing a man to get what I want?"
"I think you are capable of almost anything. After all, darling, I know the underhanded means by which you came into your title, putting it about that your father is dead when we both know you have him locked away."
"There were extenuating circumstances that you know nothing about!"
"Does Hewett know that his father yet lives?" she asked.
His grip on her arm convulsively tightened. "Leave Hew out of this."
"Whatever you say, my love," she answered sweetly. "My point was only that I know you to be coldblooded and ruthless when it suits your purpose. And you are the one who holds the deed to Lord Reggie's lands, the deed you would have had to sacrifice had he won the race. Moreover, you and the baroness are guilty of adultery. Don't deny it, Ludovic. I know that he intended to file suit against you for it."
"And you think I killed him? Your insinuation is crass and baseless."
"Is it? Lord Reggie had already obtained signed affidavits from the servants. I have copies in my possession. Sad, isn't it, how difficult it is to buy loyalty these days?"
"You think a court of law would uphold a servant's word against mine?"
"You are right, of course, but then again, a ducal coronet would bear considerably more weight in a witness box. I saw you with her, Ludovic. A married woman alone with a man of your reputation? There can be no other interpretation."
"Your word against mine, then." He emitted a mirthless laugh. "Hell hath no fury like a duchess scorned."
She gave him a venomous smile. "And I will teach you that my fury is to be feared."
"Caroline, you may drag me through the mud if you wish, but there is no possibility that I would ever be convicted of such a crime. I am a peer of the realm, and there are no witnesses who can place me at the scene."
"But even to be connected to this. Imagine the scandal, Ludovic! Your name besmirched in all the broadsheets, your person avoided and ostracized by anyone of quality."
"Yet as a man, I would come out much cleaner than you as my accuser. I have little to fear from any woman of your sullied repute."
"Is that so? Then if you would not spare yourself the scandal and dishonor, what of your penniless and newly widowed baroness?"
His eyes narrowed. "What of the baroness?"
"Unless you desist your relations with her, my love, I promise to destroy her."
***
"An entirely gruesome business, this." Sir John shuddered and accepted the stiff drink proffered by DeVere's footman. "I suppose we must try to piece this mess together. The sooner the dead man is laid to rest, the better, I say." He downed the glass of port in one long draft and beckoned for another. "When was the deceased last seen? And by whom?"
Edward answered. "Lord Reginald had joined Annalee, Diana, and me in the stands immediately prior to the first race but then departed to investigate wh
en his horse did not appear."
"Then his horse was supposed to have run in the first race?"
"Yes. His groom Johnson was to ride Reggie's stallion, Centurion," Edward said.
"What do we know of the circumstances leading to the discovery of the body?"
DeVere interjected, "My man Pratt came upon the horse saddled as if to ride but greatly agitated and pacing in his box. When he investigated further, he found the deceased and the unconscious groom."
"And there was no sign of injury to the horse?" Sir John asked.
"None, according to Pratt," DeVere answered.
"That's most curious that he did not run then. Have either of you any knowledge of the stallion's temperament? Might we surmise that he attacked the unwary groom?"
"To my knowledge, Centurion is high spirited, but not a vicious animal," Edward replied.
Sir John scowled and scratched some notes. "Yet stallions can be unpredictable. Surely it is a possibility."
"I fear that cock won't fight, my lord," argued Dr. Stone. "The groom was battered and beaten almost beyond recognition, but there are no hoof prints on his body to suggest it could have been the horse."
Sir John's scowl deepened. He took another glass of port. "What do you suggest then?"
Dr. Stone remained impassive. "I suggest nothing, my lord. I merely relate the facts."
"And the same facts are sadly unsupportive of any motive for violence," said DeVere.
"Unless, of course, his lordship lost control upon finding his horse unable to run," Sir John said. "Yes, yes, indeed. It all comes together now. Lord Reginald had become compulsive in his gaming and was heavily in debt. He had hoped to recover his losses through the horse race, but then his horse failed to run. Is it possible that this outcome may have been the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back? A man in such desperate straits is rarely of a sound mind, you know." He added an aside, "Could it have moved him to assault the groom?"
A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere) Page 11