Hell Hath No Fury (Devilish Debutantes Book 1)

by Annabelle Anders

Stephen set down his own candle and the burlap bag before walking across the room to wrap her in his arms. It was as though she were his touchstone. He took a strange sort of comfort from the mere act of holding her. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I merely thought to take a look around and see if I could find any clues that might lead us to whoever brought in the adder.”

  Cecily squirmed a little and pulled away. “I don’t think they disturbed anything but the bed when they released the snake.” She said after eyeing the area.

  “So, the snake was under the coverlet? Had the maid not pulled it back for you?”

  Tilting her head and narrowing her eyes in thought, Cecily walked over to the bed. “Chadwick was agitated by the bed. He knew something was amiss.” Smoothing down the counterpane with one hand tentatively, Cecily peered back at him. “The coverlet had been pulled back. The snake was under the sheet. It all happened very quickly, and Chadwick was making a horrible ruckus. The sheet did not come off easily. It had been tucked under the mattress nice and snug. Would it not have been difficult for one person to get a snake under the sheet and then make the bed up tightly? Would the snake have cooperated in such a way that this would be a simple task?”

  “I’m not sure… but definitely worth considering.” Stephen reached out and pulled both the sheet and coverlet down all the way. “No more snakes, sweetheart. Will you be able to sleep in here?”

  Hugging her arms to herself and rubbing her elbows nervously, Cecily looked about the room. “Did you look in the closets? Under the furniture?”

  Feeling somewhat useful, Stephen methodically checked every crevice or nook where something devious might have been left until Cecily indicated that she felt safe.

  In a quieter voice, Cecily asked, “Do you know if Flavion ever returned?”

  Shrugging, Stephen went to the door of their adjoining rooms and disappeared for a moment. He returned quickly, shaking his head. “He’s not in there. I’m surprised, what with his injuries from earlier this morning — yesterday morning,” he corrected himself, glancing at the clock.

  Cecily had climbed up onto the bed and was looking somewhat reluctant to put herself under the covers.

  “Shall I stay a while longer?” He could hold her until she fell asleep and then return to his own room and call Hamilton to dress for the day. It was not yet dawn, but he didn’t think he could sleep. He would use these early hours to study the estate documents and reports and then later, consider who might have left the snake for Cecily to find.

  Cecily nodded, and he climbed back onto the bed. She apparently had less noble thoughts, however, as she reached down and drew her nightgown up over her head before curling up next to him.

  Stephen did not make it back to his own room as quickly as he’d planned.

  Cecily had a way of doing that… obliterating his plans, that was…

  WHEN CECILY AWOKE, she did not feel as gloriously wonderful as she had thought that she would. In fact, she felt downright horrible. She felt tired, achy, and a little bilious. In addition to those complaints, her left hand was slightly swollen. Making a fist and turning it side to side, she surmised that she must have strained some muscles while slamming the saber into the hard floor.

  Forcing herself to climb out of the bed, Cecily groaned when her feet landed on the cold floor. Only then did she remember that she was completely nude. Oh, Lord, she was a heathen! Vulnerable and exposed, she hurried to locate the nightgown she’d happily shed the night before and covered herself modestly. When she’d done up the final button, she tugged at the bell rope and awaited Sally’s assistance.

  Resolved to notify Nigel of last night’s attack, she wrote out a simple missive. Perhaps her father’s employees had discovered something about Miss Daphne Cunnington. She was the main suspect as far as Cecily was concerned. She wished Stephen hadn’t dismissed her suspicions so handily.

  After dressing and taking tea, Cecily felt no better than she had upon waking. Drat, she hoped she was not coming down with something. This was not a good time for her to take to her bed! She had plans to return Emily’s books to the lending library and then meet up with Madam Chantal for a final fitting on a few more of her new dresses. She hoped that whatever was sickening her would pass quickly so that she could perhaps meet up with Rhoda, Sophia, or Emily later on that day. She was curious as to how Sophia’s evening with Lord Harold had gone. She felt guilty that her friends were giving so much of their time to her problems as of late. It was not as though they all didn’t have equally important lives. Yes, Cecily was determined to spend quality time with at least one of them after her fitting with the madam.

  Salaam waited patiently for her outside of her chamber, and Chadwick was planted right beside him. “Do you plan on going out today, my lady?” Salaam asked after a deep bow. “Mr. Nottingham has given me strict orders to watch over you both while you are at home and in public. I shall do my best to remain as inconspicuous as possible.”

  Thinking about the long fitting she had planned, she smiled at Salaam. However would this giant, foreign-looking man be inconspicuous in such a feminine setting?

  She informed him of her plans and resigned herself to having less privacy than normal. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, catching sight of Peters, she beckoned to him and requested he take her missive to Nigel’s office. She winced slightly as she pulled it from her reticule and handed it over but was not going to let her plans be foiled for the day. Perhaps a brisk walk would help.

  Waving off Sherman’s attempt to have the carriage brought around, Cecily stepped outside into the sunshine and headed toward the library. Salaam and Chadwick followed stealthily behind her.

  AFTER RISING EARLY, Stephen interviewed most of the staff in regards to any strangers who may or may not have had access to the house the previous evening. Completing his notes, he heard Cecily leaving but did not step out in time to catch her. He did, however, catch Peters as the servant was departing to perform the errand the countess had given him. This was most fortuitous indeed.

  Stephen opened the door to the study and indicated for Peters to enter. Once inside, Stephen closed the door and addressed the servant. He used a conspiratorial tone. “I am sure you realize, Peters, that an adder of that size did not arrive in Lady Kensington’s room by accident.”

  Nodding solemnly, the footman looked earnestly serious. “I did at that, sir.”

  Stephen frowned. “Then I think, perhaps, you realize the necessity of investigating the identity of the person who is threatening the countess.”

  The footman nodded again.

  “She has given you a missive to deliver.” Acting on instinct, he added, “To her man of business. I need to have a word with him, and am of mind to deliver it myself. We must discuss her safety.”

  “Yes, sir,” Peters said, handing over the missive a bit doubtfully.

  Stephen glanced down at it and was relieved to see that the direction was written clearly on the outside of the envelope. “My thanks then, good man. I shall inform the lady of any response the gentleman has.”

  Peters withdrew, and Stephen tapped the envelope on his desk thoughtfully. He was tempted to open the envelope and read the contents but could not quite bring himself to invade her privacy to that extent. With that, he grabbed his hat and departed to finally have a meeting with Cecily’s — and thereby Thomas Findlay’s — man of business.

  The building he arrived at was rather unremarkable, a dull red without any noticeable signs or distinctive ornamentation. It was the perfect place to set up when one had no wish to draw attention to himself.

  He entered and climbed to the second floor. The office was marked only by a number. Without knocking, Stephen let himself in.

  He ought to have known! “Niles Waverly, as I live and breathe. How the devil are you?” Stephen was surprised and pleased when he recognized the man behind the desk. He had met Niles in India years ago while negotiating with some rather slippery supp
liers. Ah, yes, Waverly had been there at Findlay’s request.

  Standing up with as much of a smile as Waverly ever cracked, Nigel reached over and grasped Stephen’s hand heartily. “Nottingham, I’m doing well. So you’ve finally returned to England then? I suppose a man can’t stay away from his homeland forever.”

  After dispatching with the normal requisite exchange of platitudes, Stephen sat down in the chair in front of Nigel’s desk and leaned forward.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he finally spoke, “I’m here on behalf of Cecily Nottingham.” Stephen handed over Cecily’s missive and waited while the other man read through it quickly. After a moment, Stephen continued, “There have been a few bungled attempts to harm her. Upon discovering that some of her father’s men were, in fact, watching over her, I thought it might be a good idea to put our heads together to discuss what, by Jove, is going on.”

  The nondescript, solemn solicitor pondered Stephen’s words before speaking.

  “Mr. Findlay will not be happy when he returns. His daughter is everything to him.”

  Stephen swallowed hard. He’d begun to feel this way himself. “She is… a very special lady indeed.

  These words drew a slight lift of one eyebrow from Nigel. “I would not normally discuss Findlay’s business, Nottingham, but knowing of your solid reputation and character, I believe collaborating with you would be in Lady Kensington’s best interest. We have been watching the situation and are concerned as well. Am I correct in the understanding that an attempt was made on her life just last night?”

  Stephen explained the incident in detail. “We haven’t any solid evidence whatsoever, and after interviewing the staff earlier this morning, I’ve learned nothing that can be considered useful. Did your men see anybody unusual entering the house yesterday? We think it may have been two people, rather than one, based upon the placement of the snake.”

  Nigel nodded. “Sixtus said there were two people seen entering the house who did not appear to be servants. One was a man, similar height to you, and the other appeared to be a woman. But they were dressed in unrelieved black from head to toe. My men thought at the time that they must be a couple of beggars.”

  “Did they say what time the two entered?” Stephen asked.

  “Late in the evening before darkness fell, they departed about thirty minutes later. I’ve given my men orders to follow and question them if they appear on the scene again.”

  Stephen took in this new information and found it rather helpful. He would implement a few new rules at Nottinghouse. Deep in contemplation, he rose somewhat absentmindedly and then reached out to shake Nigel’s hand once again. “I appreciate your assistance. If I discover anything further, I’ll send word immediately. I am glad to know that Lady Kensington’s father hasn’t completely abandoned her to my cousin’s protection.” At these words, he made a wry grimace and then took his leave.

  Was it possible that Flavion was somehow involved in this? Good God, he hoped not. He could handle having a cousin who was a foolish, no-good womanizing fortune hunter, but he could not find himself nearly as accepting of him if he was a murderer.

  After checking in with several of the gentleman’s clubs and even venturing over to Tattersalls, Stephen was unable to locate his cousin. He did, however, stumble across Marcus, who was looking over a matched set of bays. Running his hand along one of the horse’s forelocks, Stephen told Marcus about the adder as well as his discussion with Niles Waverly.

  “I think you were right in tracking down this Waverly fellow,” Marcus said grimly. “This type of mischief can turn up deadly if allowed to continue.”

  Turning away from the corral, the two men made their way toward the exit.

  “Are you going to put in a bid for them?” Stephen asked with a glance indicating the matched pair. “They aren’t very large but look like they might have considerable speed.” Marcus rarely gambled or drank heavily. But when it came to racing across the countryside in one of his more sporting vehicles, he held nothing back.

  Marcus shrugged. “I’ll have to take them out. It’s impossible to tell if they’re a good match without watching them work together.” Frowning slightly, he changed the subject. “You were unable to locate your cousin, then? Because in my objective opinion, he ought to be your first suspect.”

  Stephen was shaking his head. He did not believe Flavion would do something so sinister as to purposely harm his wife.

  “He has all the motive in the world,” Marcus persisted. “Now that he’s in possession of Lady Kensington’s dowry, he has no further need of her. Past experience has shown me that if he’s truly in love with this Miss Cunnington, and if Miss Cunnington is expressing impatience, he’s very likely being pressured into appeasing his lady.”

  Stephen had, in fact, considered all of this. He still did not believe that Flavion could be dangerous to Cecily.

  But if he was.

  By God, if it had been Flavion…

  The edge of Stephen’s vision turned red at the thought.

  “I’m heading back to Nottinghouse presently. Will you join me? Hopefully, Flavion’s returned, and we can question him. After that, you can tell me if you hold the same opinion.”

  “Very well.” Marcus gave Stephen a sidelong glance before adding, “But beware. You likely will not appreciate my estimation even then.”

  As the two men rode back toward Nottinghouse in Marcus’ carriage, Stephen was impatient to handle all of these matters and put them to rest. Too much real work awaited him. Not only throughout the earldom’s various different properties, but his own company as well. One of his ship captains had given him notice and needed replacing, new distributers required some wooing, not to mention a slew of various other general housekeeping matters that required his attention. His top priority right now was to put an end to these dangerous occurrences plaguing Cecily… Lady Kensington.

  When he returned today, he intended to sit down with both the housekeeper and Mr. Sherman in an attempt to flush out any additional information. People dressed as beggars didn’t simply enter aristocratic houses unnoticed. Somebody had to have seen something.

  He pulled the door open purposefully with Marcus behind him, but before he could even remove his hat, he saw that both Sally, Cecily’s maid, and Sherman were anxiously discussing something in a manner that indicated uncertainty and a bit of panic.

  It was Sally who broke away and rushed toward him imploringly. “Mr. Nottingham, my lord,” she said, barely glancing at Marcus. “Lady Kensington is not well. I have sent for the doctor, but she is in such pain and so uncomfortable that I can hardly bear to look at the poor thing.”

  Before she could say another word, Stephen was running up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and rushing toward her suite.

  AFTER HASTENING THROUGH Cecily’s sitting room and bursting into her bedchamber, Stephen was shocked by the sight that met him. She had seemed perfectly fine early this morning. What in God’s name had happened? Clutching the bed post with one hand, she was leaning over her bed and seemed to be having difficulty breathing. What he could see of her face was pale and pinched. Reaching her side, he pushed her hair out of the way and touched her forehead with his hand.

  Her skin was cold and clammy. Some escaped tendrils of hair stuck to her forehead where tiny beads of perspiration had appeared. His first thought was that she’d been poisoned again… this time, successfully.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart? When did you start feeling ill?”

  She opened her eyes and gazed up at him pathetically. A few tears had escaped onto her lashes. “I didn’t feel very well this morning but thought it would pass.” She paused and took a few shallow breaths. “I was… going to see Madam Chantal, but… it was fortunate… Salaam was with me. He and Chadwick… got me home quickly when… he realized I was not well.” She’d had to pause every couple of words in order to take in a breath. Her face was tense and drawn as she struggled to breathe deeply.

 
Sensing her fear, Stephen moved his hand down to her back and massaged her gently in a circular motion.

  “And to top it all off,” she added, holding up her free hand, “I injured… my hand at some point… last night. I think … when I was… beating up the snake.”

  Her hand was puffy and swollen. “Let me see it, Cecily.” Examining it gingerly, he quite quickly found little marks that indicated a bite. They looked so innocuous, but he was nearly one-hundred-percent certain that the bite was the cause of Cecily’s illness. “You were bitten by the snake, love. Didn’t you feel it? It is the venom that’s making you so ill.”

  “I’ve never been bitten… by a snake before. How… can one little bite… make me feel so ill?” She was pale, and the skin around her lips had a bluish tint to it.

  “Let me see in your mouth, sweetheart. Does your tongue feel swollen?”

  She stuck her tongue out and shook her head. “No, but my lips are numb… They feel fuzzy.”

  Why had he not discovered this last night? He ought to have asked her more about her encounter with the adder. Instead, he’d allowed lust to take control. And now she suffered for his carelessness. Had he known earlier, she could have begun taking the antidote sooner and perhaps not become so very ill.

  And she had been out in the streets. Thank God, he’d sent Salaam with her!

  Stephen touched her waist and felt the stiffness of the corset she wore beneath her gown. What the hell had Cecily’s maid been thinking? When a person could not breathe, one did not leave them bound up tightly. “I’m going to undo your corset,” he told her as he began unfastening the back of her dress.

  She didn’t protest at all, merely turned slightly so that he could have better access to the buttons and ties.

  “The adder bite injects enough venom to make an adult ill, but it should pass soon.” He’d successfully unfastened the dress, and after allowing it to fall to the floor, attempted to untie the knots of the unyielding corset.