Lady Fiasco, A Traditional Regency Romance (My Notorious Aunt) (24 page)

She seated herself behind the desk and waved him to a chair, which he refused
.
Studying his face, Honore absently scratched at the felt ink blotter.

“Then pray, why
did
you call me here? To gloat?”

“Hardly
.
No
.
I need your help.”

“That’s difficult to believe
,
after you
’
ve just explained to me how you manipulated me as if I were nothing more than a pawn on your chessboard
.”

“Fustian! I didn’t manipulate you
.
I merely put you in a position to examine your own feelings. Was it so terrifying to discover that you loved my niece? Are you unhappy? Do you wish to call me out for my part in it?”

“Yes!” He slapped his hands on her desk
.
“Terrifying
.
You have no idea.” He dropped his head and lowered his voice
.
“But no
,
I don’t want to call you out
.
Strangle you, perhaps, but otherwise, no. I suppose I ought to be grateful.”

“
Good. Then perhaps you won’t mind helping me
.
We’ve a somewhat bigger problem to deal with
.
You see, I th
i
nk Fiona’s life may be in a rather precarious position
.
”

Honore picked up a quill and pulled the feathers through her fingers. “I doubt whether she
is safe here at Alison Hall any longer
.
It’s quite possible she
never
was. I don
’
t know. I have miscalculated. It seems impossible to me
—
but there it is. One can’t deny facts that one sees with one’s own eyes.” She shook her head staring past Tyrell, past the window, to some unseen problem.

“How could I have been so blind?” She didn’t wait for his answer. “I’ve miscalculated, wagered incorrectly, misjudged someone and now, I fear, Fiona’s life hangs in the balance
.
” She glanced briefly at him but then returned to stroking her feather quill.

“What do you mean? Who?
Who
have you misjudged? Why is she in danger?” Tyrell squinted and tried to make sense of her ramblings
.
“Someone is trying to hurt Fiona?”

She nodded.

“Kill her?”

“I believe so.”

Honore traced her finger over the blotter as if writing. While Tyrell ticked through the short list of possibilities
.

“Alameda! You saw him, didn
’
t you? He unbolted the urn and pushed it down on Fiona, didn’t he?” Tyrell gripped the edge of her desk as if it were Lady Alameda’s shoulders and he might squeeze her until he got an answer. She looked down at the blotter and slowly back up to him
.
The answer was obvious.

“I’ll kill the bastard
.
” He turned to go
.

Honore jumped up and ran to the door, blocking his way.

“If Marcus
were
a bastard
,
” she said calmly, “I would hand you the pistol and count the paces myself
.
But Marcus is Francisco’s only heir
. My step-son.
You must allow me to handle this in my own way
.
”

Tyrell stared down at Honore but saw only the smoke and flames of his anger. “Step aside, my lady.”

She rested both her hands on his chest
.
“Believe me,” she said soothingly
,
“we will make him suffer far more under my ministrations, than if you were to run a blade through his heart. That’s far too easy, much too quick
.
There’s no beauty in it—no science.”

Tyrell
’
s eyes narrowed skeptically. He didn’t care about beauty or science; he just wanted to protect the woman he loved.

“Think carefully, Wesmont
.
Do you really want to flee into exile in Australia, or worse, America, just so you can put a bullet through Marcus’s sadly confused head? Are you wi
l
ling to let his greed ruin your life?”

“I’ll do whatever
I
must, to protect Fiona
.
”

“Noble of you, but Fiona is safe for the nonce. Tomorrow
is a different matter. T
hat’s why I need your help
. Do let me
explain.”

He hesitated
,
but then listened as Honore unfolded her plan
.
They bent their heads together, conspired and a
r
gue
d
,
bickered and compromised
,
until Tyrell went away satisfied.

Chapter 19
Stranger in a Pomegranate Mask

T
he next morning dawned with a sienna sun. It flickered on the eastern horizon like a great candle trying to burn a hole through the murky brown vapors covering London
.
Servants padded quietly through the hallways of Mayfair, silently preparing for the magic hour when the aristocracy would arise from their beds.

Marcus stumbled out of a hack and staggered up the stairs into
Alison
Hall. After clambering loudly through the house and shouting for the servants, he finally undressed and collapsed on his bed. His cheek sank blissfully into the deep softness of his starched white pillow. But a shrill scream interrupted h
i
s slumber
.

A second scream shattered the morning calm entirely. A third scream
split
through Marcus’s head like a hatchet
.
His eyes flew open.

The sound of feet clattering through the hallway roused him to action. He flung open his door, hung on to the woodwork as he shouted at the servants. “What in the name of—”

His words were cut short
. Another shriek threatened to burst his eardrums. It was Honore.
All the way from the west wing her screeching tore up the morning tranquility.
A young maid scurried past, gasped when she saw Lord Alameda leaning out of his doorway, and averted her eyes
.
Marcus glanced down and remembered he was naked. He went back to his room, fished a dressing gown out of his wardrobe, and followed the throng headed for the east wing.

In between screaming at the top of her lungs, Honore yelled
,
“It’s her faul
t
! That accursed child
.
Fetch her to me! Fiona! Fionaaa!”

Fiona was already running to her aunt’s bedroom, her bare feet pounded against the wooden floorboards, her white night rail billowed around her, and her hair flew wildly about
.
She skidded to a stop in the doorway. Her hands flew over her mouth
.

Her aunt’s dark eyes stared back at Fiona from a face so red and swollen it was nearly unrecognizable. Mounds of bright red hives bulged
,
one on top of the other, her skin stretched to the bursting point
.
Honore viciously scratched at one hand
.
Fiona noticed the puffy fingers and realized that Honore’s entire body must be covered with swollen red patches
.

“Send for a doctor!” Fiona ordered a maid, and rushed to her aunt’s bedside. “What’s happened to you?”

“You dare ask?” Honore’s mouth was so swollen spittle flew out as she shouted. “I’ll tell you what’s happened. You! You are what’s happened. Are you blind? It’s your curse.”

The doorway filled with spectators from the household. Among them stood Marcus, hair askance and his dressing gown hanging loosely around him. Fiona searched their faces, hoping someone had a better explanation, but they were obviously as shocked and clueless as she
.

“This can’t be.” Fiona bit her lip. “How did I do this?” But a wave of hopelessness washed over her. What other explanation was there? Things like this happened wherever she went. Numb, stunned, she failed to form any more words. “”I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Sorry.”

Honore’s swollen mouth moved again. Fi
o
na heard her aunt speaking, but it sounded as if it came from a long way off
.
A tunnel stretched between the two of them, a tunnel that dulled the words and slowed the movements
.
Honore
’
s bumpy red hand waved imperiously through the air and directed a bloated finger at Fiona
.
“… all your fault! How dare you bring that curse of yours against me
?
”

She grasped Fiona’s chin and pulled it closer to the livid black eyes peering out of the lumpy mass of hives. “Look at me! I look like an overripe pomegranate. All because of you and that wretched curse
.
Well, I won’t have it, I tell you
.
I won’t
.
”

Honore started screaming again
.
“Get out. Get her away from me.”

From the end of a thick echoing tunnel, she heard her aunt’s final decree.
“
I don’t want you in my house
.
Do you hear me! Out! Out!
”
Fiona backed away from the bed
,
and stumbled. Someone took her shoulders and guided her out of
t
he room

An hour later, Fiona found herself seated on a trunk in front of Alison H
al
l. Several bandboxes were stacked beside her
.
She couldn
’
t clearly recall the servants
’
hushed movements as they packed for her, nor did she remember walking down the winding staircase out of Alison Hall
.
I
t
all happened so quickly
.
She
’
d watched the activity from a great foggy distance, like a rabbit knocked over the head
,
sitting stunned in the killing shed
,
awaiting the cook’s ax
.

Very slowly, the distance between her and reality began to shrink
.
She could feel the hard metal ribbing of the steamer trunk beneath her bottom
.
She considered the heap of luggage and realized she was in something of a predicament. The front door opened and closed
.
The soles of Lorraine
’
s half boots pattered down the stairs toward her, and she set another bandbox on top of the pile.

“That’s it then, miss.” Lorraine fiddled with the pocket of her apron. “It’s that sorry, I am. It weren’t like her ladyship to take after you the way she did. More’n likely it’s that awful swelling in her head, what did it
.
You’ll see
.
She’ll come ’round to herself in a day or two. Don
’
t you go blaming yourself for my lady swelling up like that
.
No, miss
,
it were probably somethin
’
she ate
.
Why, once I seen her swell up an’ turn red as a beet on account of mollusk soup
.
It weren’t nothing but a harmless little bowl of soup, mind you
.
Ooo
, but she was fit to be tied
,
she was, what with all that itchin’ and scratchin’ and swelling up like a great red cauliflower.”

Fiona stared at Lorraine and blinked, trying to comprehend the waterfall of words pouring over her. Behind them the door opened
,
and the butler stood
,
r
i
gid as a post, signaling the maid back into the house
.

“
Good bye, miss.” Tears started down Lorraine’s cheeks. “Look at me, turning into a waterin’ pot
.
What with you saving me from drownin’ an’ all. I’ll be grateful till my last breath.” With that, the older woman planted a kiss on Fiona’s cheek and fled up the stairs. The butler closed the door and Fiona sat alone
.

From an upstairs window, Honore and Mattie peered down at Fiona sitting on her trunks
.
“I think that went rather well don’t you?” Honore’s garishly swollen face actually puckered into what resembled a half smile
.