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Authors: Victoria Alexander

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BOOK: The Lady In Question
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“You were speaking about a feeling! And blast it all, you were talking about a horse! At least, I thought you were talking about a horse.” Cassie stared, her eyes wide with shock. “You didn’t, Delia, I know you. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.”

“I might have.” Delia pretended to study her fingernails. “Once.”

For a moment silence hung in the room. Delia held her breath.

“How?” Cassie asked at last.

Delia’s gaze snapped to hers. “What do you mean,
how?

“How did you manage it?” Cassie’s eyes narrowed. “Surely you didn’t take that little horseback ride

—”

“Cassie!”

Cassie ignored her. “— in a library or an empty parlor.”

“Of course not.” A touch of indignation sounded in Delia’s voice. “That would be most improper.”

Cassie raised a disbelieving brow.

Delia ignored her. “Do you remember the night I feigned illness and you and the rest of the family went off to whatever party it was you attended?”

“Vaguely.”

“I had a hired carriage waiting to take me here. To Charles’s house.”

“Oh, nothing improper there.” Sarcasm colored Cassie’s words.

Delia raised her hands in front of her in a helpless gesture. “And Charles insisted afterwards on marrying me.”

“I see.” Cassie’s expression was annoyingly noncommittal.

“And I do wish you wouldn’t refer to it as a horseback ride.” Delia drew her brows together. “It makes it all so…unseemly.”

“And we wouldn’t want that.” Cassie got to her feet. “I was wrong, though. It was a good thing that he married you. Pity he had to get himself killed within the week.”

“Yes, it was.” There was a familiar pang when Delia said the words. Of regret for what might have been and of guilt as well that he was gone and she hadn’t truly cared for him the way she’d always wished she would one day care for the man she married.

“However” — Cassie put on her hat and adjusted it to the proper angle — “his death has been of some benefit.”

“I scarcely see —”

“Actually, you needn’t see, because I do.” Cassie pulled on her gloves in a slow and deliberate manner. “No one knows this was not a love match, indeed I didn’t know myself until a few minutes ago.”

She pinned her sister with an accusing look. “Did I mention how lacking in anything of substance your letters were?”

“You may have.”

“I knew your return would renew discussion of the scandal, which had died down nicely, I might add. So, I am taking it upon myself to rectify the situation.”

“What do you mean,
rectify
?” Delia said slowly.

“Nothing much, really. A few carefully placed words here and there and the way the world sees this incident will change dramatically. You will no longer be the subject of scandal and curiosity, but sympathy.”

“Cassie, what are you —”

“It’s obvious you were swept off your feet by this rake and obvious as well that he felt the same. Why would a man with as unsavory a reputation as Wilmont’s marry you otherwise?” Smug satisfaction sounded in Cassie’s voice. “I wish I had thought of it months ago, but it didn’t occur to me until I learned you were on your way home.

“You reformed this rake into becoming an honorable man, but before either of you could enjoy your newfound love, he was tragically killed. In your grief, you exiled yourself —”

“The Lake District is not exile.”

“— until you could once again face the world.”

“That part, at least, is true, although it was embarrassment more than grief —”

“Yes, but my version is perfect and too, too romantic. Tragedy combined with love is irresistible.”

“I don’t think —”

“It might even alleviate any speculation that Wilmont was leaving you, so soon after your marriage, which was why he was on the packet to France alone.”

“That’s absurd,” Delia said staunchly. “Charles had pressing business interests in France and did not think it was appropriate for me to accompany him.” Delia hated to admit that she did not know her husband well enough to truly know if indeed what he had told her as to the purpose of his trip was true. Given his behavior after their marriage, she too had wondered if he was leaving her. Whatever the purpose of his trip, it cost him his life when the packet wrecked during a storm in the channel.

“Regardless, my idea is brilliant and you may thank me for it later. It might even hasten Mother’s forgiveness. I daresay she would much rather be the mother of a tragic, bereaved widow who sacrificed all for love than the mother of a —”

“Very well, then,” Delia said quickly. “I suppose it’s worth a try, at any rate.”

Cassie flashed a grin. “I shall do more than try, dear sister, I shall rally the Effington women, except for Mother, of course, in a valiant effort to twist the flow of gossip to your advantage. I haven’t the least doubt of what we can accomplish.”

For the first time in a long time Delia laughed. “It is indeed a formidable force.”

The ladies of the Effington family were well known for strength of character and other qualities considered either sterling or troublesome depending on one’s point of view. They’d long understood the power wielded by their family had as much to do with the tenacity of its female members as its men. Cassie pulled on her gloves and started toward the door.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” A sliver of panic shot through Delia. “You’ve scarcely been here any time at all and it’s so dreadfully lonely.”

“I don’t want to, but,” Cassie sighed, “Mother is keeping a closer eye on me than usual. She firmly believes if she had been as watchful when it came to you, all of this would have been avoided.” She considered her sister for a moment. “You could come with me, you know. Father would welcome you and Mother can just as easily not speak to you at home as she can if you remain here.”

“I should like that, but…” The idea was exceedingly tempting. To return home and pretend nothing had ever happened. But among all else she had realized during her months of relative solitude, she understood and accepted that her life had changed forever and no amount of pretense would undo what was done. Besides, she had the blood of generations of Effington women in her veins and it was past time she behaved with the courage that was her birthright. “I have chosen my path and now I must live with it.”

“I knew you would say that; I would have been quite shocked if you hadn’t.” Cassie shook her head and smiled. “I must say I rather envy you.”

“Why on earth would you envy me?”

“As a widow you are no longer subject to the limitations that govern my life. You may not realize it at the moment, dear sister, but you are free.”

“Free?” Delia folded her arms over her chest. “I’d scarcely call the restrictions of mourning free. I have simply traded one set of rules for another.”

“But there is an end in sight for you and then you may do precisely as you wish.” Cassie’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Perhaps I can find myself a wealthy rake to marry who will then conveniently die. Someone quite old, I think, barely tottering, to ensure I would become a widow as quickly as possible.”

“Cassie!” Delia tried and failed to hold back a laugh.

“It was just a thought and at least I have made you laugh.” Cassie gave her sister a quick hug. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to visit again, but I suspect I can manage to write and dispatch a servant to deliver my notes. Every day, if you wish.”

“That would be wonderful,” Delia said with relief. “I feel quite isolated here. This house is not overly large, but it’s rather empty.”

“Surely Wilmont had servants?”

“Only a housekeeper, who also served as cook, and a butler, and they up and quit right after I was informed of Charles’s death. Father had this house closed up for me when I left. As for my own maid…you remember Martha?”

Cassie nodded.

“She met a farmer while we were gone and stayed to marry him when I returned to London, so I shall need to replace her. Did I tell you the house had been broken into while I was away?”

Cassie gasped. “Good Lord.”

“The thieves left quite a mess and, I confess, it was most unnerving. There wasn’t a single room left untouched. All the books in the library were torn from the shelves, every drawer pulled from every chest, furniture upended. The picture of chaos, really.”

“Delia, are you certain you’re safe here?”

Delia waved away the question. “Of course. Such things are bound to happen when a house is left empty for so long. Fortunately, the very day I returned, a new butler, sent by an employment service, I assume, arrived. I hired him at once, and he promptly hired a housekeeper and a footman. They have spent the last few days setting everything to rights while I have tried to determine if anything was taken.”

“It’s fortunate that you have help, but isn’t it a little odd that these servants just magically appeared on your doorstep?”

“There was nothing magical about it. No doubt the previous servants notified the service and they were simply waiting to send anyone until I had returned.” Delia shook her head. “And I don’t mind in the least, given the state of the house. Besides, their references were excellent.”

“I met the butler when I arrived. He seems rather old.”

“And therefore has a great deal of experience. He will serve for the moment,” Delia said firmly. The last thing she wanted or needed to worry about was hiring servants. “Besides, he came highly recommended.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose.” Cassie started to open the door, then paused and met her sister’

s gaze.

“Delia, what was it like?”

“It?”


It
. You know exactly what I mean by
it.”
Cassie studied her cautiously. “With him.”

Realization struck Delia and her face burned. “Oh, that
it.”

“Well?”

“It was” — Delia struggled to find the right words — “interesting. Rather enjoyable, really…”

“Was it as painful as they say?” Cassie’s tone was casual, but curiosity shone on her face. “The first time, that is?”

“Not really. It was odd and a bit uncomfortable, but…”

“And after that?”

Delia was not about to admit, even to Cassie, that there had been nothing beyond a first time. Nor would she ever tell her it was not quite as wild and glorious as she had expected. She drew a deep breath. “All in all, I’d say the experience had a great deal of potential.”

“Potential?” Cassie raised a brow.

“Potential,” Delia said firmly.

“Potential,” Cassie murmured. “That is interesting.” A few moments later she kissed her sister on the cheek and took her leave.

Delia lingered at the parlor door long enough to watch the new butler, Gordon, see her sister out, then closed the door and slumped against it.

It was exceedingly hard to be an outcast in one’s own family. She regretted that, but little else. Even now, Delia knew if she could indeed turn back the clock and live once again the days that had led to today, she would make the same choices. Oh, she would do what she could to prevent Charles’s death and do what she could as well to build affection from what started as nothing more than passion, but she would not change her actions.

For all of her twenty-two years, she’d known it was her lot in life, as well as her sister’s, to look as lovely as possible, to learn those skills that would serve them well as the proper hostess and mistress of a household and, of course, to make excellent matches. What real choice was there other than marriage for the daughters of Lord William, William Effington, the brother of the Duke of Roxborough?

The sisters had on occasion through the years discussed, or rather bemoaned, whatever quirk of fate that had decreed them female with no true purpose in life save to wed and breed well. They quite envied their brothers and male cousins, who were free to explore the world and have grand adventures and lead exciting lives. With age, they’d discovered there was a certain amount of adventure offered in the flirtatious smile cast by a handsome lord, the promise of excitement to be found in the meeting of the admiring gaze thrown by a roguish gentleman across a crowded ballroom. Adventure and excitement that had not truly tempted Delia before Charles.

In hindsight, she wondered if rebellion had always simmered unacknowledged beneath her calm exterior, some reckless unknown need for excitement or adventure, and wondered as well if the realization that she fast approached an age when she could no longer avoid a suitable marriage, with or without affection, had simply brought forth that part of her nature. Charles had offered the excitement and adventure and, yes, danger she didn’t know she yearned for until she met him. Regardless of the outcome, this had been the grandest adventure of her life. Now she simply had to live with it.

Chapter 2

The door closed behind the Effington woman and he breathed a silent sigh of relief. Blast it all. What did he know about being a bloody butler save that he should be at once completely indispensable and virtually invisible?

Anthony Artemis Gordon St. Stephens, the new Viscount St. Stephens, had been in countless awkward and dangerous situations through the years, but none quite as irritating as this one. He could handle himself under the most dire of conditions, but the behavior of a properly trained butler was not in his repertoire. Perhaps if the servants of his childhood in his father’s house had not been quite so well trained he would at least have been more aware of their activities, although he doubted it. He had not been overly perceptive as a child.

He stepped away from the door and started toward the back hall.

At least Miss Effington — no, Lady Wilmont — was not experienced enough as the mistress of a household to note his lack of training. At least not yet. Surely his purpose here would be accomplished by the time she realized there was something distinctly odd about this particular servant. Without thinking, he scratched the back of his head, then remembered to brush from his jacket the dusting of power the action had dislodged. Powdering his hair to achieve the impression of age was almost as annoying as the false mustache, eyebrows and spectacles he sported to complete the illusion of age, or the small wads of cotton stuffed between upper teeth and jaw to distort his face and remind him constantly to alter the pitch of his voice. Besides, the blasted powder itched. It was, in truth, Wilmont’s fault. If he had stuck to the plan and followed proper procedures, Tony would not be in this position in the first place. Not only had Wilmont unexpectedly wed Philadelphia Effington, but he’d uncovered valuable information far and above his current investigation. Pity, both his reasons for marrying as well as this newfound information, allegedly detailed in a notebook, were lost with him when he died.

BOOK: The Lady In Question
6.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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