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The Lady In Question

Page 27

by Victoria Alexander


  Worse, any admission on his part would not end with him. One truth would lead to another. His deception could not be revealed without further explanations about Wilmont. Even if a woman is not in love, she still does not want to know her courtship was nothing but part of an ill-advised government plan. It might well destroy her. He might well destroy her.

  Tony had lived in the shadows wrought by the nature of his work much of his adult life and hadn’t realized it until her. Until Delia brought him into the light.

  Mac was right: Tony could not tell her the truth. And he would do whatever he had to make certain she never found out any of it. To make certain she was never hurt.

  It would be easy to get rid of the other servants, but the butler was a more difficult problem. Delia would never accept Gordon simply leaving her employ. He was too old to find another position. Why, she’d probably insist on pensioning him off and, in some way, taking care of him for the rest of his life.

  Unless…

  There was only one thing to do. Only one way out. He could see no other solution.

  Gordon would have to die.

  Chapter 19

  “And you have come to me for advice?” The Duke of Roxborough studied Tony curiously. “Or are you looking for approval?”

  “Both, I think, Your Grace.” Tony chose his words with care.

  The two men sat in the impressive library at Effington House, each with a glass of brandy in hand. Tony had indeed come seeking the older man’s counsel. He had nowhere else to turn. “There is no one else who knows everything about the situation, save for Lord Kimberly, of course.”

  “And as the lady in question is a member of my family, he is not as qualified as I to determine her fate. Is that it, St. Stephens?”

  “Something like that, sir.”

  “Coming to me may well be the wisest move you’ve made since this debacle began.” The duke blew a long breath. “Kimberly has made me aware of your feelings for her, of course.”

  “Of course.” Tony should have known Kimberly would have made certain Delia’s uncle was kept informed of any new development.

  “Has she agreed to marry you?” The duke’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  “Actually, sir, I have agreed to marry her.”

  His Grace’s brow rose.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “And I should prefer not to hear it.” The duke shook his head. “Effington women.” He said something under his breath Tony could not make out and thought it was probably best. “Do you know what you’re getting into with her? With this whole blasted family?”

  “Not entirely, sir, but you yourself warned me of the challenge inherent in involvement with an Effington female.”

  “And are you up to that challenge?”

  “I don’t know, sir.” Tony met the duke’s gaze directly. “But I shall do my best.”

  “That’s all we can ask for, then.” The duke paused for a moment. “You’ve never truly been part of a family, St. Stephens. It’s one of the things that has made you so good at the work you do. Nor, to my knowledge, and I do make it a point to know everything about those who work for me, have you ever been seriously involved with a woman. You have always been as solitary as Wilmont. Indeed, more so. He, at least, made his existence known in society — in a disreputable manner, mind you, but known nonetheless. You have never had a life outside your work.” Roxborough studied him carefully. “Are you certain about this? About her?”

  “I have never been more certain of anything in my life.” Tony raised a shoulder in a helpless shrug. “I love her, sir.”

  “God help us all.” The duke threw back the rest of his brandy, got to his feet, strode across the room and promptly refilled his glass. “Then do it now.”

  “Do it —” Tony stood.

  “Marry her. Now. As soon as possible.”

  “But she’s not officially out of mourning, sir.”

  Roxborough snorted in disdain. “If she’s like the rest of the women in this family, a little thing like disregarding the prescribed period of mourning won’t stop her. Unless, of course…” His brow furrowed. “Did she love Wilmont?”

  Tony paused. “No, sir.”

  “Does she love you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I’ll arrange for a special license and by this time tomorrow you will be wed.”

  “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “Do you think it’s wise to be her betrothed and her butler at the same time? Even you cannot be in two places at once. Where is she now, by the way?”

  “I drove her to call on her family before I came here. I thought it best for her to be out of the house if I was not there.”

  “Very good, but you cannot keep this up. It will all come to a head and then there will be the devil to pay.” He narrowed his eyes. “I needn’t remind you, regardless of what happens, she will never know of my part in any of this, do I?”

  “No, sir.”

  The duke thought for a moment. “We’ll have the wedding here.”

  “Here?” Tony stared in surprise. “Won’t Lady Wilmont think that rather odd?”

  “Everything about this is rather odd, my boy. But I’m her uncle and head of the family. Tell her I’m an old friend of your father’s or your brother’s. I did meet one of them on occasion, I believe.” The duke pulled his brows together and paced the floor. “She already knows we’re acquainted and you must be held in some favor, as you were a guest at Effington Hall. Tell her…you came to me for fatherly advice. Yes, that’s good. And I encouraged an immediate marriage, even offering to have the wedding here, to…to…”

  “What, sir?”

  “To…get her life back in order. That’s it. Put that whole business with Wilmont behind her and start her life over. With you. That sounds reasonable. Yes, I like it. Besides, having the ceremony here will give a stamp of family approval to it and minimize any scandal.”

  “But shouldn’t I speak to her father? Ask for her hand?”

  “Nobody bothered with that for her first marriage, I can’t see that it’s necessary for the second. You can talk to him at the wedding, if you wish. Indeed, I have already spoken favorably of you to her father. And I daresay, knowing my brother, he’ll be pleased to see her finally settled with the right man.” His Grace met Tony’s gaze firmly. “And in spite of the way this has become so horribly mucked up, I do think you‘ re the right man, St. Stephens.”

  “I appreciate that, sir, but isn’t this rather too fast?”

  The duke’s brow rose. “Changing your mind, are you?”

  “Not at all,” Tony said staunchly.

  Indeed, making Delia his wife as soon as possible was not merely a solution, but a heartfelt desire. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. He simply wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to marry her so soon. Tomorrow. Less than twenty-four hours from this very minute. Why, a scant month ago he hadn’t considered marrying at all. Now he stood at the very edge of that yawning abyss prepared to fling himself into it.

  “Good. It’s been my experience that the faster events progress, the less time people have to think about silly questions like why. Of course, there may be speculation that she is with child. There isn’t any chance of that, is there?”

  “I wouldn’t think so, sir.” Of course, there was, but the timing would be a matter of days and scarcely worth noting.

  “Indeed.” The duke huffed skeptically. “No, in this case the answer to why is simply love. As ridiculous as it sounds, no one questions love.” His Grace chuckled ruefully. “It’s a powerful weapon.

  “Now then, my wife will arrange everything regarding the wedding. She’ll be in a frenzy and she’ll make life hell for anyone who dares to cross her path between today and tomorrow, but she’ll love every moment of it. The duchess is excellent at things like this.”

  “Pardon me for saying so, sir, but should we make an event out of it? Given the circumstances, I mean. Perhaps it would be better to just marry
without any particular fuss.”

  “You obviously know nothing about women, St. Stephens. A wedding requires a certain amount of fuss for females. It’s part of their nature. Some sort of primeval ritual. But it won’t be an event per se. Simply whatever family members are in town and can be located, although I suppose that is a fair number at this time of year.”

  “I’m not sure an immediate marriage solves anything, sir.”

  “It solves everything, and quite nicely too. You’ll take her away for a long wedding trip. To avoid the scandal, of course. By the time you return, all will have been forgotten and forgiven. I hear Greece is nice at this time of year. My brother Harry and his wife are traveling there next month to dig about at some ruin or other. Or even better, take her to Italy. For some reason, women love Italy. Probably that rascal Byron’s influence.”

  “She would like to travel,” Tony said thoughtfully.

  “Of course she would. And while you’re gone, you’ll receive a letter informing you that her dear friend the butler” — he rolled his gaze toward the ceiling — “has passed on. You’ll be right there to comfort her and take her mind off his” — he cleared his throat — “death. It’s hard to mourn when you’re blissfully happy. And I suspect you can make her such.”

  “That is my intent.”

  “In addition, should she ever learn the truth — and with each passing day this ruse continues, that is indeed a possibility — she will be wed to you. Bound to you for the rest of her days. In truth, trapped.”

  “You make it sound so appealing,” Tony murmured.

  “What I’m trying to say is marriage keeps her by your side. With luck she will never know the truth, but if she does, she will have to forgive you at some point. Certainly in this case it could take years, but eventually she’ll have no choice.”

  “Because she’s trapped.” The word didn’t have nearly as bad a ring to it when used in respect to Delia as opposed to him. In truth, he rather liked the idea of her being trapped with him. For better or worse. For the rest of their days.

  “I have to admit, St. Stephens, I’m really rather pleased with how this whole thing has turned out. As you well know, I was not at all happy to learn it was my department’s fault, my government’s fault, that my niece was the center of scandal. That her life was irrevocably altered. All you have to do now to make everything turn out well is convince her to marry you immediately.”

  “I shall do my best.”

  “Kimberly has told me you plan to leave the department after this is concluded.”

  Tony nodded. “I have responsibilities now that I did not have before. I see no other choice.”

  “Indeed, you have no other choice. It’s a wise man who understands that.” The duke considered him for a moment, then favored him with a slight smile of approval. “The department will be the poorer without you, but I suspect my country’s loss will be my family’s gain.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “In the meantime, we shall hope for the best. The British government got you and my niece into this mess, and by God, I, as a representative of the British government, will bloody well get you out.”

  “I appreciate that, sir.”

  “Marry the girl. Kill the butler.” The duke raised his glass. “And we’ll all sleep better at night.”

  ———

  Was her history repeating itself?

  Delia paced the short width of the library, absently wringing her hands.

  Was she doomed to once again make an enormous mistake? And would this be so much worse because her heart was involved?

  She had no idea, and God help her, she wasn’t sure she cared.

  “Did you wish to speak with me, my lady?” Gordon said from the doorway.

  “Yes, please, do come in.” She waved him into the room.

  “You seem distraught, ma’am.” Gordon moved to the cabinet and poured two glasses of brandy. She bit back a smile. Brandy and backgammon had become something of a ritual with them, and she rather liked that Gordon took it upon himself to fetch the brandy without waiting for her request. She would miss these evenings.

  “Thank you.” She accepted the glass he offered and took a long sip. “Distraught is perhaps not the right word. I am…I don’t know what I am exactly.” She took her usual seat at the backgammon table and waved him to the other chair.

  He sat down and studied her. “Are we to play, then, ma’am?”

  “Not tonight, Gordon, I simply need to talk.” She stared at the brandy in her glass as if it had the answers she searched for, then looked up at him. “I am going to marry Lord St. Stephens. Tomorrow.”

  “My congratulations, ma’am.”

  She raised a brow. “You don’t think it’s too soon? It’s been barely seven months since my husband died. Don’t you think it’s terribly improper to marry so quickly? Before the required period of mourning, that is?”

  “It is indeed quite improper, and scandalous as well. However…” the butler paused as if considering his words.

  “Go on.”

  “Well, my lady, you told me you wished to live by no one’s standards but your own. If indeed you meant those words —”

  “I did.”

  “Then this is the perfect opportunity to do just that. As I understand it, Lord Wilmont has no family, so there could be no censure from that quarter. In addition, your family is both powerful and wealthy. It’s been my experience that the indiscretions of those with wealth and power are forgiven far faster than those of anyone else. As scandals go, I doubt this will be that significant.

  “Lady Wilmont, I suspect you must follow where your heart leads.” His eyes behind his spectacles met hers. “Is St. Stephens where your heart leads?”

  “Yes.” She pulled her gaze from his and stared unseeing into the dim shadows of the room. “I love him, Gordon. It sounds so odd to admit it aloud. I have had a great deal of doubt about the very existence of love, but nothing else explains it. The way I feel when I’m with him and, as well, the way I feel when I’m not.”

  “Pardon me for pointing this out, ma’am, but you did not know your first husband well. Do you know this man any better?”

  “I do, or at least I think I do.” She laughed softly. “My uncle, the Duke of Roxborough, has given his approval. Indeed, he has invited us to marry at Effington House, so I daresay St. Stephens’s credentials are more than acceptable. I am not overly close to my uncle, but I do trust his judgment. And” — she blew a long breath — “I suppose I should trust my heart as well. St. Stephens is the most wonderful…and he makes me feel…”

  “Yes?”

  “As if I am the most important thing in the world.” The wonder of it all sounded in her voice. “As if nothing matters to him but me. As if I am unique and special.”

  “My dear Lady Wilmont, you are both unique and special.”

  Her gaze met his and she smiled with affection. “What a very nice thing to say.”

  “It’s true,” he said staunchly.

  She laughed. “It’s not precisely true when your sister looks exactly like you. When you’re used to being referred to as *one of the Effington twins.‘ It wasn’t until I married that I became, well, an individual.” She thought for a moment. “Perhaps that’s part of why I’ve made the decisions I have. Neither Wilmont nor St. Stephens has ever seen me as one of a pair. Indeed, St. Stephens has never even met my sister.”

  “He’s seems a decent sort of chap, ma’am.”

  She raised a brow. “I wasn’t aware you’d met him.”

  “Only in passing, my lady.” Gordon cleared his throat. “He has been in the house a great deal and somewhat impossible to avoid.”

  Heat flushed up her face, but she ignored it. After all, she had wanted to become a woman of experience, and if that effort had lasted no more than a day, regardless of whether she was now going to marry the gentleman in question or not, she had nothing to be embarrassed about. Still, it was difficult to disregard a lif
etime of expectations of proper behavior.

  “After we marry, St. Stephens is taking me to Italy.” She wrinkled her nose. “In part, I think, to avoid whatever scandal might be caused by our hasty nuptials, but also because he knows it will be a grand adventure.”

  “You have always planned to travel.”

  “It will be glorious, Gordon, every bit of it. Travel and marriage to a man who loves me as I love him, and eventually children and growing old by his side. A lifetime of adventures. Grand, all of them.” She brushed a strand of hair away from her face and noticed her hand trembled with emotion. “It’s all quite perfect. In truth, I think it’s something of a miracle.” She shook her head.

  “And it scares you,” he said softly.

  “A great deal, actually. I am at once so happy and so afraid it will all be taken away.” She sipped her brandy and thought for a long moment. “I have not made especially wise decisions when it has come to men and marriage. This is the second time I will have married hastily.”

  “But you are marrying now for far different reasons, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “I married Lord Wilmont because it seemed like an excellent idea given the circumstances. My choices were rather limited once I had…” She shook her head. Delia was fairly certain Gordon had long ago realized that she had shared Charles’s bed before marriage, but she preferred not to say it aloud.

  “Yet you have any number of choices now. You have a residence of your own, you are wealthy in your own right and you have independence as a widow you did not have before. The mere fact that you and his lordship have become” — Gordon cleared his throat — “close does not mandate marriage. It seems to me that the one fact that is present now that was not present in your first marriage is the one factor that should indicate future happiness.”

  “Love?”

  “Love.” Gordon nodded. “I confess, I am not an expert in that elusive emotion, but I have seen enough to know that when it is present, there is nothing on earth that is more powerful.”

 

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