Lord Morgan had assumed that his daughter would be sad at leaving RiversEdge yet her countenance was a pleasing one—nay, it was almost merry. “Are you glad to be returning home, Delight, or do you smile because of Blaze’s happy news?” he asked her.
Delight turned her head to him, caution and curiosity both upon her face now. “What happy news?” she demanded.
“Ahh,” he answered her, “I had thought that Blaze might have told you, but perhaps she chose to wait until you had been betrothed, and now I have spoilt it.”
“What happy news?” Delight repeated, her voice now holding a note of nervousness.
“Blaze and Anthony are expecting their first child sometime in the late autumn. She tells me she feels the same way that she felt carrying her little son that died, and so she is certain she carries a boy. Is that not happy news? Anthony is ecstatic with happiness!”
At her father’s words sanity burst like a bubble in Delight’s brain. In but a few seconds all her hate for Blaze was destroyed, and the full realization of what she had planned rose up to overwhelm her like a powerful wave. With a shriek she cried, “Dear God, what have I done?” and fell from her horse to the ground senseless.
Lord Morgan leapt from his own mount while calling the little traveling party to a halt. Kneeling by his daughter’s side, he ascertained that there were no broken bones, but try as he might, he was not able to arouse her from her stupor. He moved her out of the sun to a place beneath a shade tree. Finally, when an hour had gone by, Delight began to show signs of regaining consciousness. Lord Morgan forced some strong wine from his traveling pouch between her lips, and she managed to swallow it. Slowly the color began to return to her pale face, and she opened her eyes.
“What have you done, Delight?” her father asked quietly. “You must tell me what you have done.”
“Tony doesn’t love her,” Delight whispered. “He does not! He only wed her because he promised Edmund, and the king made him do so when he tired of Blaze as his mistress.”
“Anthony loves Blaze very much, Delight,” said her father gently. “Why do you not see it, child? I am going to tell you something that even the king does not know. Edmund exacted no promise from Tony. Edmund was killed instantly. Anthony, however, has loved Blaze from the moment he first saw her. When his uncle died he saw his opportunity to finally marry her himself. Eventually his aspirations were realized because he boldly went to the king and dared to tell him that false tale of a dying man’s wish. Who was to say he was lying? That is why he could never settle his heart upon another woman, Delight. Even you.”
Delight began to weep piteously.
“You must tell me what you have done, my child. You must tell me quickly if your act has endangered any member of our family,” Lord Morgan persisted.
“I have conspired to murder my sister,” Delight sobbed. “Dear Lord Christ! I have attempted murder!”
Robert Morgan felt as if a cold hand was clutching at his heart. His younger daughter was tottering dangerously between sanity and total madness. He could not drive her the wrong way lest he lose both Blaze and Delight. “Tell me, Delight,” he said softly, “tell me how you have planned to kill Blaze.”
“The night garment that I made, Papa,” Delight said, and he could see she was making a strong effort to hold on. “My farewell gift to Blaze, Papa. It is treated with a special poison, and if Blaze wears it she will die by morning.”
“Where is the gown, Delight?”
“Henriette has it in her chamber. She will give it to Blaze tonight. Do you not remember, Papa, that I told Blaze so?”
“Tell me how you got such a poison, Delight,” said her father, already suspecting the answer.
“Henriette, Papa. She made it with the help of her servant, Cecile. Henriette is a bad girl, Papa. She fucks with one of the stablemen, Johnny, in a back stall in the stables.”
“How do you know this, child?” He was horrified by the French girl’s consummate evil. Why had no one caught her? She was obviously quite a clever bitch.
“Henriette lets me watch her,” came the terrible reply. “She said if I watched, I would know what Anthony would do to me one day when I was his wife.”
Pray God, thought Lord Morgan, that Mademoiselle Henriette had not corrupted Delight any further, but he had to ask. “Did the stableman ever . . . ?” He hesitated, ashamed to have to ask his daughter the question, but Delight fortunately spared him.
“Oh, no, Papa! I never fucked with anyone. I swear it! I am saving my virginity for my husband,” she said primly, not telling him how the servant had fondled her, however, for she could see the deep distress etched into his handsome face. Poor Papa. He was such a good man.
Lord Morgan pressed a little more wine upon his daughter, and said, “I must return to RiversEdge, my child, and put an end to this affair.”
“Ohh, Papa! I shall die if Blaze and Anthony know what I have done! They will hate me! They will never forgive me, and I am really so sorry! I do not want to hurt Blaze anymore! If I had only known that Anthony really loved her, I swear I would not have done it!”
“Do not fret, my daughter. I will try to do what must be done without your sister learning of your foolishness. Do you feel well enough to ride now?”
“Aye.” She nodded.
“Good,” he replied. “You are to go on to Ashby. We are almost halfway there. I will ride back, not upon the road, but cross-country, for it is faster. I will go to Lord Kingsley’s home, for I can reach it far more quickly cross-country than I can the earl’s ferry crossing. Nicholas will see me across the Wye to RiversEdge. I will be there before nightfall, and I will correct this matter. You must tell me, though, what the nightrail looks like, for the French bitch may try to foil my intent.”
“It is pale mauve silk, Papa, and we embroidered violets upon the bodice and sleeves in a lavender silk thread. I chose the color because there was just enough material in the bolt for my purposes, but none extra. When Blaze puts it on, the poison will begin to be absorbed into her skin, and once it all is, the gown is safe for unshielded hands to touch again. Henriette has a special hand cream to keep her safe tonight.”
He nodded. “Get on your horse, child,” he said, helping her to mount again. “I have not much time, but do not fear, I will be in time!”
They had been stopped almost two hours now, and, his horse well-rested, Lord Morgan set off for his Kingsley son-in-law’s home. He paced his mount carefully, for he knew the importance of reaching his destination quickly and safely. God forbid his animal put his foot into a rabbit hole and leave him helpless. It was with great relief, and a prayer of thanks, that he finally reached Kirkwood: Dismounting, he hurried into the house to Nicholas Kingsley. To his relief, Blythe was nowhere to be seen as his son-in-law hurried into the library to greet him.
“Warn your servants not to mention my being here,” he told Nicholas. “Not even Blythe.” Then Lord Morgan went on to explain the situation. He concluded by saying, “Blaze must not know.”
“And Anthony?” asked Nicholas.
“I have no choice but to tell him, for his French cousin must die else she attempt once again to harm my daughters. I do not believe that she merely aided Delight in this scheme. I believe she plotted it, using my child’s unrequited love for Tony. I think that she meant to have him for herself. I cannot leave her alive under the circumstances, and if I am to kill her, Anthony must understand why.”
Nicholas Kingsley nodded. “Let us go,” he said. “The sun must not set upon this woman lest the powers of darkness aid her in escaping our justice.”
The two men hurried from the house and down to the riverbank, where Lord Kingsley’s barge awaited them. The river was calm in the late-afternoon sun, and they were quickly rowed across. The two men walked swiftly up the lawns of RiversEdge and into the house.
“Find the earl and bring him to us in his library,” said Lord Morgan. “No one else is to know that we are here. Do you understand?”
> The servant nodded, and exited the room. In a very few minutes Anthony Wyndham entered the room, a surprised look upon his face. “What is it?” he asked. “Robert, why have you returned? Is everything all right?”
“Sit down, Tony,” said Lord Morgan, “but first tell me, where is Blaze?”
“Counting linens with my mother. Why?”
“What I have to tell you is a horrifying tale, but you must not interrupt me until I have finished.”
“Very well,” replied the earl to his father-in-law. “Say on, Rob.”
Quickly Lord Morgan explained the reason for his return to RiversEdge and as he spoke, the earl’s face grew more somber with every passing minute. A bevy of emotions passed across his face. Anger. Sorrow. Compassion. When Robert Morgan had finally finished telling him what poor Delight had related to him in her remorse, he could but shake his head.
“The French bitch must be destroyed, Tony,” said Lord Morgan. “She cannot be allowed to harm Blaze or your child. There is Nyssa also to consider. Did she not attempt to subvert my granddaughter before you and Blaze returned from court last autumn? She is a dangerous creature, Tony. She cannot be allowed to go free.”
“What would you do to her?”
“Make her wear the same night garment that she planned for Blaze to wear tonight. If she has not lied to Delight, the poison will be absorbed into her skin, killing her, and it will appear that she died a sudden but natural death.”
“And the servant?”
“The woman is involved too, but I cannot justify the taking of her life. Pack her off to France with a small pension. She dare not speak of what she knows lest she implicate herself.”
Anthony Wyndham nodded. “Let us do it now,” he said. “Henriette is in her chamber. Let us hope in the ensuing distress of her death no one, including Blaze, will think to ask about Delight’s parting gift, and where it is.”
His two companions nodded in agreement, and the three men, after ascertaining that no one would see them, hurried from the library up a back staircase to the floor housing the family’s bedchambers. The wide hallway with its afternoon sunlight was deserted. Blaze and Doro were in another part of the house, and Nyssa was out-of-doors in the stableyard learning to ride her new pony. The earl led Lord Morgan and Lord Kingsley to his cousin’s chamber, and the three men entered into the room without knocking.
Henriette Wyndham did not at first hear her visitors, for she was busily grinding something into a fine powder with her mortar and pestle, and her concentration was intense. Suddenly sensing that she was not alone, she whirled about, surprise suffusing her lovely features.
“Tony,” she said, and then, seeing Lord Morgan and another gentleman, her face hardened. “So, the little madwoman could not keep her secret long enough to attain her heart’s desire,” Henriette noted, and her voice dripped scorn.
“It was not Delight’s idea at all, was it?” asked Lord Morgan.
“Of course not,” came the bold reply. “Do you think the little simpleton could be as clever as I?”
Robert Morgan smiled coldly. “No, Delight is not clever, for she tends to think with her heart. You, however, have no heart, do you, Mademoiselle Henriette?”
The French girl laughed delightedly, as if pleased with his discovery. “And it was not my daughter who was to benefit by this murder, was it, mademoiselle?” continued Lord Morgan. “You would have concocted a way to expose her, and then you planned to snap up the grieving widower, n’est-ce pas, mademoiselle?”
“How is it,” Henriette asked him, “that you are so clever, and your daughters, at least the two I have met, are so stupid?”
“Perhaps it is because they are pure of heart, mademoiselle,” Lord Morgan replied.
“You will want the garment, I suppose?” Henriette said.
Lord Morgan smiled a savage smile. “No,” he answered her. “I do not need it. You see, mademoiselle, I think that you are too dangerous a woman to continue living. If we saw you incarcerated in a convent, you might escape. If we returned you to France, you might attempt to reenter England. We can hardly wed you to a decent man, given your propensity for stablemen. Besides, you might decide to conveniently widow yourself in a similar fashion as you thought to rid yourself of my daughter. It has, therefore, been decided that you will suffer the same fate you proposed for her.”
“No!” Henriette Wyndham hissed the word in almost reptilian fashion. “You cannot do this! You cannot! Anthony!” she appealed to him. “We are cousins!”
“ ’Tis a pity, madam, that you did not remember that when you prepared your little scheme to murder my wife and our unborn child,” he replied coldly. “Fetch the garment, Henriette, and put it on.”
Henriette’s eyes rolled in her head with her fright. “Grand-mère Cecile, aidez moi, je tu prie!”
From a corner by the fireplace where she had silently viewed and heard all, the old woman arose. She spoke the same French dialect that her granddaughter had spoken. “Do as they say, my child, and without further delay. There is an antidote to your poison that I have never told you. I had already prepared it in case the wrong person touched the gown, for we could not have had that happen, could we? As soon as they leave I will give it to you, and then we will escape this place. Madame Blaze is counting linens with Madame Dorothy and Heartha. It will be easy to steal some of her jewelry. We will have enough to live on the rest of our lives. We will go home to France, ma petite. Vite, vite, now! Do as you have been ordered.”
As the old woman spoke, a look had passed between Lord Morgan and his sons-in-law. Henriette and her grandmother were not aware that the three knew enough of the French language to have understood even Cecile’s dialect. They watched now as the false servant, covering her hands in the special lotion, brought forth the deadly garment. It was exactly as Delight had described it, and Robert Morgan was satisfied.
“Very well,” Henriette said in what she hoped passed for a cowed voice, “I will don the gown, but may I first say my prayers? If I am to die, at least let me make my peace with God.”
“The nightrail first,” said Lord Morgan stonily. “Then you may pray, but I suspect it is the Devil you call upon, and not God.”
Henriette sent him a venomous look. “Leave me then,” she said.
“Nay,” said Anthony. “We will remain here until the deed is done.”
With a shrug to indicate that she did not care, Henriette unbuttoned her bodice and pulled it off. Next she loosened the waistband of her skirts, and stepped from them as they fell with her petticoats to the floor. Casually she unrolled her stockings, and kicking her shoes off, pulled them from her feet. Finally she drew her chemise over her head and tossed it aside. She posed naked before them, thrusting her large cone-shaped breasts forward, fondling them with her hands until the nipples were no more than big sharp points. Fascinated, the three men watched as her hands smoothed over her torso and downward, the tips of her fingers coming to rest amid the dark triangle of curls of her Venus mons. Henriette’s eyes closed for a minute, and from between her pouting red lips came a sound that was almost like a deep purr.
Then opening her amber eyes wide she murmured, “Come now, monseigneurs, would you really destroy such loveliness as this? Tell me, have you ever shared a woman, the three of you? I have more than enough to go around. You could have me one at a time, or I have even been known to take three men at once. One of you in my burning sheath, which even now aches to be stuffed with a hard and throbbing cock such as I know you each possess. One of you in my ass, for my French and Italian lovers schooled me well in that particular perversion. The third in my little mouth, but do not be fooled, for I am able to swallow the largest cock after I have tongued it to pleasure. Surely you cannot refuse such an offer as I am now making you? Do you not want me? Men have killed for my favors.” Her little tongue ran rapidly over her red lips.
They stared at her as they might have stared at some particularly loathsome reptile or beast. Each of them felt a lu
stful response to her words, yet none of them would have accepted her wicked offer. She was the most tantalizingly evil woman that they had ever encountered, and with a singularity of mind they realized that there could be very little sin in ridding the world of such a creature.
“Put the gown on, you vile bitch!” growled Anthony. “When I think that I gave you a home, and allowed you to associate with my wife and mother, I shudder.”
With Cecile’s help Henriette put the gown on, and seeing it, Lord Morgan thought that it was exquisite, particularly the embroidery. It had been a beautiful but deadly trap. “Say your prayers, mademoiselle,” he ordered her, and Henriette knelt piously for as long as she dared before rising.
“Now lie upon your bed,” Anthony ordered her, and turning to the startled Cecile, who had expected that the men would leave now, he said, “Tie your mistress to the bed with these ropes,” and he handed the old woman four short lengths of strong rope.
Suddenly afraid, Cecile obeyed him, not daring to even try to thwart him, for he checked the knots of each binding as she tied it. When she had finished she was made to return to her corner, where she intended to sit until they left her, that she might supply her granddaughter with the antidote to the poisoned gown.
Lord Morgan, however, spoke up. “I will stay until the bitch dies,” he said quietly. “You two take the old woman where she will not be heard or found, and lock her up until mademoiselle is lifeless.”
“Rob—” began the Earl of Langford, but his father-in-law interrupted him.
“Nay, Tony. It is enough I have put on your conscience and Nick’s this day. The rest is mine to bear, and I shall. Go now.”
“Anthony, I beg of you,” pleaded Henriette from her place upon the bed, “let me have the comfort of my servant at least in the moment of my dying! Do not be so cruel as to let me die with the pitiless eyes of this monster watching over me!”
Anthony Wyndham walked to the bedside and stared icily down at Henriette. “Listen to me, cousin, and hear me well. We all understood what it was you said to your grand-mère but moments ago. I have no intention of leaving her here to give you an antidote, free you, steal my wife’s jewelry, and then help you escape retribution for your wicked deeds. If you have not said your prayers, if that sham of motionings and mumblings upon your prie-dieu was no more than that, then now is the time for you to make your peace with God.” Then, turning away from her, he departed the room with Lord Kingsley, hustling the protesting old woman between them, while behind them Henriette Wyndham shrieked curses upon them all.
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