The Madcap Marriage (31 page)

“I could hardly share crown secrets with a whore,” said Alex stiffly.

“But your behavior convinced her she couldn’t hold you, which is as good as a public cut to the demimonde. To avenge your negligence, she seduced the man you hated most. When I threw her out, she invented a duel to make herself seem fascinating. It worked. Fishbein is showering her with gifts to keep her in his bed.”

Alex growled.

“We’re both well rid of her,” Rafe declared, moving toward the stairs. “You should…”

* * * *

By the time Helen reached the breakfast room, she was angry enough to shoot both men on sight – not that it would do any good. Rakes bedded anyone who tempted them. Once the attraction wore off, they moved on.

Which explained Rafe’s demand for an annulment. Whatever moment of lust had prompted his offer was gone. Staying with her put him in danger.

Alex’s motives were just as suspicious. He, too, was a rake. Dancing attendance on her antagonized Rafe, but it wasn’t real. He was free to needle Rafe as much as he wanted, because she could no longer demand he wed her. Neither of them actually wanted her.

She examined them as she took a seat. They looked more alike than ever today. Both sported black eyes and bruises that emphasized their scars. Both wore corbeau jackets and fawn pantaloons – Alex’s luggage must have arrived. Both were arguing when she walked in, but immediately pasted on false smiles. They were interchangeable, as last night’s dream suggested.

It had started with the game of hide-and-seek she’d played so often with Alex. Their games had always ended in hot, openmouthed kisses and urgent yearnings for more. The dream provided more as he untied her gown, letting it drift languidly to the ground. Her petticoats had followed. Stays. Shift. She’d stripped him in turn, reveling in sunlight reflecting from the hard planes of his chest, in his questing hands and hot mouth, in—

But it wasn’t Alex who laid her on the soft grass. Nor was it Alex who drove her insane with pleasure. Rafe’s eyes blazed like molten silver. She touched him, marveling as she stroked steely muscle covered in velvet and satin. His tongue—

She’d awakened, moaning, with every nerve tingling. But the transformation of Alex into Rafe still shocked her. Of course, Alex had never touched her intimately, so the dream had probably re-created what she knew. But it left her unable to look either of them in the eye.

Not that Rafe noticed. He concentrated on his food, ignoring her.

Alex, on the other hand, welcomed her warmly, with impossibly effusive praise. That he continued his flirtation after she’d slapped his face proved that his purpose was to annoy Rafe. So he couldn’t know about Rafe’s annulment demand.

She toyed with sending him back to London, but they needed his expertise. And she might need other help if Rafe left to pursue his annulment. He was sullen enough today that she had to consider the possibility. Leaving him to his megrims, she cut off Alex’s fulsome compliments.

“Nalley may be more than Steven’s loyal servant.” She leaned close, keeping her voice soft in case the butler was listening at the door.

“What do you mean?”

“Steven is not perpetrating fraud by himself. Nalley may be helping him. He often slips away to meet disreputable men.”

“How do you know?”  Alex frowned.

“Tessa learned that one of the housemaids meets a groom on the sly.” She shook her head. “I will have to talk to her. Sneaking about sets an awkward precedent for the younger girls.”

“Turning her off is the usual punishment,” said Alex. “Sly girls make bad servants.”

“That sounds too harsh—” began Helen.

“Very,” put in Rafe unexpectedly. “Talk to them. I’m sure you can find an equitable solution. You’ve no idea what Steven’s policies have been.”

“Condoning lax behavior undermines discipline.” Alex glared at Rafe.

“Punishing anyone without first learning facts is deplorable,” countered Rafe. “Servants are as entitled to friendships as their masters."

“I will deal with the staff,” said Helen before they could come to blows. The proprietor of the Plate and Bottle wanted to retire, so she needed a couple to take over the inn. “At the moment, I’m more concerned with Nalley. He slips away frequently, and always appears furtive. Rose never knows where he’ll pop up. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to his meetings.”

Alex nodded. “Being predictable is the best way to be caught.”

“Did Rose describe any of the men Nalley meets?” asked Rafe.

The question surprised her, for his curiosity and support stood at odds with yesterday’s suspicion and demands. “Scruffy, but that could mean anything. It has been going on for months, though. And it might connect with Steven’s affairs.”

“I will look into it.” Rafe glared Alex into silence. “But not today. We have more pressing problems at the moment.” He turned to Alex. “You mentioned forged canal documents last night. Have other forgeries turned up?”

“Not to my knowledge, but I’ve more information on the assassins – my valet brought an updated report from my office. A Mr. Stone was seen near Hillcrest several times in recent days, which ties the attack to Sir Steven. Stone is his secretary and suspected of forging the canal documents. He is currently in France – possibly arranging for Sir Steven’s arrival.”

“Unless he is fleeing a sinking ship,” said Rafe, shrugging. “You can add the forgeries Steven sent to Helen’s trustees to the charges against him, by the way.”

“And the one he gave me. I should have realized Stone wrote them,” said Helen with distaste. “Steven’s hand is illegible.”

“What forgeries?” asked Alex.

Helen explained.

“You can collect the actual letters from Formsby,” said Rafe pointedly.

“My staff will see to it.”

Helen interrupted to prevent another argument. “What are the plans for today?”  She kept her eyes on Rafe, wondering if he meant to leave. An annulment would negate his promise of protection. Prudence would dictate a swift departure in the interest of personal safety.

Rafe shoved his plate aside. “We need a better defense. The house is far too vulnerable.”

Helen nearly swooned to realize he wouldn’t abandon her. Her reaction surprised her, but a moment’s thought made her admit that her morning pique had ignored pertinent facts. Rafe and Alex were far from interchangeable. Merely looking at Rafe sent her heart racing. That no longer happened with Alex, and last night’s kiss had turned her cold. Rafe might behave questionably at times, but he’d never actually betrayed her.

Alex nodded. “Defense is important, but any plan must include the grounds.” He turned to Helen. “It is impossible to guard every entrance in a place this size, but sentries can tell us if anyone approaches.”

“How many servants can we trust?”  Helen met Rafe’s eyes.

“Considering Nalley’s antagonism, I dare not approach the indoor staff, and I’ve not met the grounds staff. But the stable hands are sound – they are thrilled to discover the truth, for Steven and Dudley abuse horses. My coachmen and groom can arrange the watches. How many came with your carriage, Portland?”

“My coachman, a groom, plus three couriers – I must stay in touch with my office. One courier will leave shortly, but the others can stand guard.” He turned to Helen. “Show me the grounds. I’ve forgotten the exact layout.”

“I need you to show me the house,” said Rafe. “I’ve not had time to explore even this wing, let alone the others.”

“Take Tessa. She knows Audley as well as I do, but she’s less familiar with the grounds.” Helen stifled regret – she needed time alone with Rafe – but it couldn’t be helped. “I’ll ask Frank to order horses,” she added to Alex. “We will leave in twenty minutes.” But a new thought occurred as she rose. “What if I give Steven enough money to establish himself in France or Italy?  Would he leave?”

“No.” Rafe shook his head. “He is too obsessed to admit defeat – which is how he would describe flight. His instinct will be to avenge his losses. I ruined him by wedding you, so I must die. You stole his inheritance, putting you in equal danger.”

“He can’t be that mad.”

“Don’t underestimate him, Helen. The more I learn about him, the more convinced I am that he is like Hillcrest. Rather than accept blame, he will look for a scapegoat – you. He will not leave England without first punishing you.”

“You’re wrong, Thomas.” Alex turned to Helen. “Sir Steven is selfish, greedy, and willing to do anything for a fortune. But he is not mad. He severed his ties to Barney and Arnold. He does not know we are investigating his frauds. The runner you hired is stirring suspicions over Alquist’s death, but no one yet connects it to him. So if he takes possession of Audley, he can pay his creditors, placate Hicks and Tilson, and live wealthily ever after.”

“But we will be ready for him,” she said steadily.

“Not you. Thomas is right that you are in danger, Helen, though his logic is twisted, as usual. All this rubbish about forced weddings is ridiculous. Sir Steven will kill you, then claim Audley as next of kin.”

She snorted. “Impossible. He is not my heir.”

“He will kill Thomas first, my dear. Then where will you find an heir?  I presume you revised your will, Thomas.”

“Of course.”

“I—”  Her blood ran cold. “I never revised mine.” Effort brought her panic under control. “Not that it matters. The trust has its own beneficiary in case I die intestate. Steven knows that. It’s his reason for pushing me on Dudley.”

“But Stone is a forger,” said Rafe. “It is mere speculation that he has broken with Steven. What is to prevent Steven from producing a new will?  He might even disband the trust first, removing another set of people who could ask questions.”

She frowned. “Do you really think he will kill us both?”

“It is the logical solution. After Christchurch, he must know you will never obey him. Wedding you to Dudley requires that he control both of you.” Rafe shook his head. “So why not cut Dudley out completely and take everything for himself?”

“There is no point in arguing his intentions,” put in Alex, shoving his plate aside. “We must expect the worst, which means planning the best defense.”

“Right.” Rafe rose.

Alex escorted Helen to the door.

* * * *

Rafe glared after them. He shouldn’t be surprised that she’d chosen to accompany Portland over him. But he was. Also angry and hurt.

Tightening his fists, he stormed out and summoned Tessa, furious at himself for caring what Helen did, furious at Portland for daring to touch her, furious at…

He fought his fury into submission, then whisked through the Tudor wing, paying close attention to the floors and stairways. The dust was undisturbed.

“This wing sends chills down my spine,” said Tessa shakily. “It’s haunted, you know. Rose’s beau seen figures in the windows, and he swears there was torches and music one night, like we was having a ball.”

“A house this old is bound to have ghosts, but they mean us no harm,” he replied calmly as they climbed to the top floor to check the connecting door to the Elizabethan wing. “How long have you served Helen?  You can’t be much older than she is.”

“I was sixteen when Sir Arthur bought Audley. He emptied the parish workhouse to staff the place. Lady St. James’s maid trained me to look after Miss Helen.”

Rafe frowned at a wall. Water stains marred the plaster. He must ask Helen if the roof had been repaired.

“Tell me about Mr. Portland.” The question invited new fury, but he needed answers. Despite claiming that Portland was an untrustworthy liar, Helen grabbed every opportunity to be with him. If both he and Portland were in peril, would she even notice her husband?

“There isn’t much to tell,” Tessa hedged. “He was Sir Montrose’s guest four years ago.”

“I know Portland was courting her,” Rafe said gently. “But I need to know her mind now.” He’d offered the annulment, praying she would refuse but expecting her to accept. Instead, she’d exploded in fury, then fled – almost as if she hurt. She hadn’t yet written to her solicitor, but had turned all her warmth on Portland. Was she making sure of her welcome before casting her husband aside?

“She married you.” Tessa’s tone terminated the subject.

He tried another tack. “How much opposition did she face when she took over Audley?”

“I don’t know. Miss Helen has always kept her own counsel.”

No one had entered the Tudor wing from this end, so he moved into the unused Elizabethan wing and dropped his questions. Tessa was too loyal to Helen to reveal anything, and her nervousness reminded him of her recent ordeal.

None of the stairs in this wing had been used, either, nor had feet traversed the hallways. If Steven was in the house, he had to be in the new wing.

But further search was pointless. Without dust to reveal footprints, Steven could dodge out of sight and shift unnoticed into rooms already searched. Rafe would do better to prepare the master suite for immediate occupancy.

* * * *

Helen stared at the study wall, indecision stalling her quill.

Regardless of Steven’s intentions, she needed a will. She did not support some of the benevolent societies her father had designated as residual beneficiaries.

He had never expected her to retain control forever, of course. Many of his lectures had covered ways to tell if a gentleman was honest. Leaving her in charge had meant to discourage fortune hunters, but he’d intended that she break the trust once she found a decent husband. Like all men, he’d never believed her his equal.

And maybe he was right. She’d bungled things badly since his death, wallowing in grief until she couldn’t think straight. Steven had easily outmaneuvered her.

“Stop agonizing over the past,” she ordered herself firmly.

The easy letters were done – notes to Lady Alquist and her trustees outlining her evidence against Steven, then swearing that she would never, under any circumstances, leave so much as a farthing to him or Dudley or anyone associated with them. Any will that included such provisions was a forgery.

But the final letter was more difficult. It was addressed to Mr. Fielding and announced her marriage to Rafe. Now she must add the instructions for preparing her new will, which meant naming her beneficiaries.