Dangerous Joy (30 page)

"Are we talking about Miles or Rupert?" Felicity asked again, but with a wry smile. "Oh, well, if you know all, you know Kieran's my child. Did Miles convince you that Rupert is capable of great cruelty? He is. He could make Kieran's life a misery and will do so if thwarted. He's even capable of killing him if he can do it without being caught."

"But you won't agree to murder?" Beth asked.

Felicity stared at her. "You, too? Faith, but you're a bloodthirsty lot! Killing's not so easy, you know. I tried to shoot Rupert once and couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger."

Beth nodded. "That's where men come in useful. Whether by nature's design or man's, they are much better at violence than we are."

"Speak for yourself," said Blanche. She turned to Felicity. "I killed a man not long ago, but I know what you mean. By his own actions my victim had forfeited any right to live, but I doubt I could have done it had he not threatened the lives of innocents. I think Beth would have killed him, too, if she'd had the opportunity. Women find the strength for anything when they need it."

Felicity looked between the elegant lady and the ethereal actress. "I feel as if I've suddenly landed among the Furies! Be that as it may, I don't regret not shooting Rupert, for his death will do no good unless it leaves me with a right to my son."

"You're determined on that, are you?" asked Beth. "Even if he were placed in a good home?"

"I am. I thought at one time it would be enough to know he was safe and happy. Now I want more."

"Then you certainly don't want to be dragged into the courts for the murder of his father, do you?" Beth made the point as neatly as a sword-thrust.

"I certainly don't want that."

Beth set off down the slope again. "Let us have our aims clear. You want sole care of Kieran. Do you want to be acknowledged as his true mother?"

"Hardly. Quite apart from the scandal, it would lose him his inheritance."

"An inheritance to which he has no right," Beth pointed out. "You should perhaps bear that in mind."

It was not an aspect of the case Felicity had considered before. "It was Kathleen's property," she defended, "and she wanted him to have it. Surely that must count for something. She disliked her cousin Michael."

"Very well. So to have the raising of the lad would satisfy you?"

"It would."

"And you also want Miles."

Felicity felt her color flare and remained silent.

"Come now," said Beth, stopping to face her. "It does no good to prevaricate. He clearly loves you. Do you love him?"

"I do," Felicity muttered. "But I will not let that weigh with me."

"We'll bear that in mind. So, you would not object to marrying Mr. Dunsmore for a brief time, then once widowed, marrying Miles?"

Felicity felt rather bludgeoned by this cool analysis, but she tried to reply in the same manner. "After a fashion, that is my plan. Though I'll make a true marriage of it if Rupert behaves. I have some scruples, you know."

"That won't please Miles."

"Damn Miles!"

Beth focused a severe look on her. "I don't think he deserves that."

Felicity knew she was flushing like a guilty child. "If he'd not interfered, everything would have been settled by now."

"You mean, you would be married to Dunsmore, subject to his petty cruelties, his nightly invasion of your body..."

Blanche interrupted the confrontation. "Felicity, I have to point out that when men die in suspicious circumstances, the wife is always the first suspect. She has to convince the world of her true devotion to escape prosecution. A mere glance at recent events would cast grave doubt on your devotion to Mr. Dunsmore."

Felicity could feel her temper rising. "Precisely! And that is Miles Cavanagh's fault! I can bear Rupert's pawing-I even liked it once. And people around my home know I once was mad for the man. They would have thought little of my marrying him, except that I was unfortunately besotted!"

"What's done is done," said Beth, "and we have to plan for the future." She moved forward again, heading back to the distant house. "Deaths which appear to be accidents are surely not hard to arrange."

"By St. Bridget, but you make it sound as simple as planning a dinner!"

"That reminds me..." Beth said with a frown, then continued straight on. "A fall off a cliff, for example. Or a drowning. Does Mr. Dunsmore swim?"

"I have no idea."

"If you have the chance, find out. Now," she continued, "clearly our main problem is gaining legal control over young Kieran. That won't be easy, but the main opponent may well be this cousin Michael rather than Dunsmore. He will be only too keen to take charge of the boy when he comes with an estate and fortune,

and we couldn't even contemplate wiping out inconvenient players in the game."

"Not to mention his wife and four sons," muttered Felicity.

"Quite. But it might be possible to persuade him to our point of view. Does he have ambitions?"

"Ambitions? He's some kind of merchant, I believe."

"A merchant. Excellent. Then he can probably be bought."

Blanche laughed. "Do you know, Beth, for a person of egalitarian principles, you are beginning to sound dreadfully like Lucien."

"Am I?" asked Beth, stopping in surprise. "Goodness, I suppose I am. I apologize to Mr. Michael Whatever-his-name-is for impugning his honor merely because he is in trade. It could well be that he will put sincere concern for his cousin's welfare above any mercenary gain."

"Unlikely, though," said Blanche with a grin.

Felicity brought them back to the point. "So we might be able to bribe Michael not to stake his claim to Kieran. We still haven't any real solution to Rupert, though."

"We'll have a council of war tonight," said Beth. She smiled at Felicity. "Though at times I'm most uncomfortable with rank and privilege, you have a great deal of it on your side through the Rogues. And I gather Miles's uncle, the Earl of Kilgoran, carries great weight in Ireland."

"And his mother is a Fitzgerald."

"So there has to be a way, even to circumvent the law. Stephen will know if anyone does. Sir Stephen Ball, M.P. He arrived late last night. As well as being a Member of Parliament, he's trained in law. But we must be careful not to hint at crimes in front of him. He doesn't like his conscience too cluttered."

"And he spends time with all you Rogues?" Felicity remarked. "How peculiar."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in leisurely pursuits. Blanche returned to her feathers. After attending to some household matters, Beth returned to her book, which proved to be an edition of Sophocles in Greek. Felicity found the piano and passed the time pleasantly enough with Gardeen curled up nearby, tail occasionally twitching in rhythm.

After a while, Blanche came to listen and suggested some vocal duets. Felicity's untrained voice was no match for the professional, but still it was a delight to make such music.

Then Beth appeared. "Now, now," she said with a smile, "as I understand it, Felicity, you are supposed to be in a state of black rebellion. This hardly matches the picture."

"I have no one present to rebel against."

"I can change that." With a teasing smile, Beth held out a book. "To the library, young lady, and read."

Felicity took the slim volume with unfeigned reluctance. If it's Sophocles, it'll be all Greek to me, indeed!"

"It's English and less than thirty years old.

Mary Wollstonecraft's A Vindication Of The Rights Of Woman. When you've read it, we can discuss it."

It wasn't a strain for Felicity to glower. "Did I mention that I've always been a wretched student?"

"Did I mention that I've always been an excellent, and very determined, teacher?"

Only partly acting, Felicity flounced off to the dauntingly sober library to read her set text. She was soon fascinated, however. In some places her attention was caught by the excellent points made, but in others she was in strong disagreement with the author. She found paper to mark places of particular interest, anticipating a discussion.

Then voices warned her the men were home. She went into the hall to find four happy, windblown, mud-splattered gentlemen in hunting pink rhapsodizing over a day chasing vermin.

She paused a moment to study the three men she did not know. Definitely not ones she would choose as opponents in life. Two were tall with superb physiques-one dark, one glittering blond. The third was a less showy blond, and less physically impressive, being of slighter build, but there was something in his lean face that suggested a daunting intellect.

She'd lay bets he was Stephen Ball, the Member of Parliament and legal expert. The Rogue with some scruples left.

Then Miles saw her. She'd swear he almost smiled but controlled it. "Been behaving yourself, Felicity?"

Time to play her part.

"What choice do I have, stuck here in the middle of nowhere?" she asked saucily, sauntering over to eye the other men in a very bold manner. "And who are your fine friends, guardian dear?"

The dark-haired man and the M.P. raised brows. The glittering blonde just grinned.

"The fine golden-top is your host the Marquess of Arden, heir to Belcraven," said Miles. "You should kneel and kiss his aristocratic, high-instepped feet. The black-top is Major Hal Beaumont, late of the 10th. You should kiss his feet, too, for he's a war hero. The shrimp of the group is not to be ignored, either, being one of our nation's elected lawmakers. Though they are all smiling, you should note that the creatures have very sharp teeth. I wouldn't recommend playing with them."

Felicity was jolted by that reminder of the dance at Foy. And of what had followed in her bedroom...

She pushed it back and let her gaze sweep the company. "If you insist in trapping me here in boredom, my grim guardian, you must accept the consequences." Sliding deeper into the character of wanton Joy, she swayed over to the marquess, put her hand on his broad chest, and looked up into clear, blue eyes. "Lord Arden, I'm sure you have something here to alleviate my boredom."

She emphasized the word here with a little dance of her fingers.

His lips twitched. "If I don't, I will be devastated, Miss Monahan. What entertains you most?"

All the men were just in from a day in the saddle, and Felicity was surrounded by sweat and the smell of leather and horses. She'd lived her life with this smell, yet now it dizzied her senses.

Which certainly helped her to play her part.

She walked her fingers up his chest a little. "Many things entertain me, my lord, but riding especially. I hear you have magnificent equipment-for riding."

"Truly magnificent," he replied, sharp-edged amusement in his eyes. He captured her hand, raising it for a kiss that managed to be entirely improper. "Someday," he murmured softly, "if you're a very good girl, I might let you explore my-stables."

Someone stifled a laugh, and Felicity realized Miles had spoken nothing but the truth. These men were more than she could handle. Faith, and it wasn't surprising. Most of her experience in these matters had been with her amiable neighbors and Rupert Dunsmore!

It wasn't in her nature, however, to back down in front of an audience. And anyway, she'd chosen the marquess as her target because his wife was standing by. He must be safe.

Mustn't he?

She didn't pull her hand free. In fact, she moved an inch closer. "Oh, but I'm very

experienced around stables, my lord. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. But are you claiming yours will be more impressive than any I have ever seen?"

He grinned, actually showing sharp white teeth. "That depends on whether you've seen Miles's, my dear. His definitely beat mine in size, and his skill and expertise in these matters cast mine in total shadow."

She gasped. A hand on her arm pulled her away. "Felicity," said Miles, "I warned you not to play with the animals."

"I'll play with whom I damn well please!" she snapped, twitching out of his hold even as she thanked heavens he'd rescued her.

"No, you will not," he said, all grim guardian.

`And I'll go where I want, when I want! In fact, now I'm fed and rested, I think I'll leave."

"The devil you will. You're a prisoner, remember?" Seizing her wrist, Miles hauled her across the hall to the library. "What were you doing in here? Plotting mischief, I'm sure."

"Mischief! I'll have you know-What the devil are you doing?"

He'd pushed her into a solid oak chair, the kind with built-in steps that took two men to lift. "Keeping you out of harm's way while I have a bath. Lucien, get me something to tie her."

Felicity heard a sound from Beth, but it was cut off. She knew this was all for show, but she was quivering with genuine fury. "Don't you dare! I'll have the law on you. I'll accuse every last one of you of kidnapping, unlawful confinement..."

The marquess had taken off his cravat and cut it into strips with his pocket knife. Miles tied her wrists to the armrest. "There, that should confine you. And it's not unlawful. I'm your guardian."