Drawn to the Marquess Read online

  He bowed his head in agreement. “Perhaps. But then I would never have learned more about you.”

  She gave him a shy smile. “And what have you learned about me that I couldn’t have told you myself?”

  They had just stepped back out into the sunshine and as she placed her bonnet on her head, she noted how he used his hand to shade his eyes as if getting them used to the light again.

  Finally, he looked down at her. He bent closer and whispered in her ear, “I learned that you are scared of passion. I suspect it’s because you fear not being in control. But don’t worry. By the time I’m finished you’ll learn that you can still be in control and experience passion, but if I’m really good, you’ll learn that passion is so much more if you lose control.”

  As he handed her into his carriage for the ride home she ignored the dance her insides were doing. Instead, she hugged her newfound knowledge to herself, determined to learn Clevedon’s secret and then decide how best to use it.

  Chapter 5

  The next day, prior to calling on Penelope, Stephen called on his friend Alexander Sylvester Bracken, the Duke of Bedford. His house happened to be a mere street over from Lady Penelope’s.

  “What was so urgent that you missed Hestia’s small dinner party? We had an important question to ask you.”

  Oh, Stephen knew well what Alex wanted to ask of him, and it was also one of the reasons why Stephen did not want to attend last evening’s dinner. How did one turn down being godfather to his best friend’s child? If Alex knew that Stephen would go blind very soon, he’d likely pick another.

  At some point Stephen would have to tell Alex what was going on with his sight, but that time was not now. Pity to a grown man was akin to getting the pox.

  “If you must know I’m helping a damsel in distress.”

  Alex tipped back his head and roared with laughter. “What? Helping her out of her clothes?”

  “Actually, I’m trying to keep her neck out of the gallows.”

  Alex’s laughter stopped and the smile on his face faded away. “Goodness. Even Hestia would accept that excuse.”

  His friend knew him well and sat waiting for him to explain.

  “Lady Penelope Fisherton believes her brother-in-law, or ex-brother-in-law since her husband is dead, is determined to prove she’s guilty of Carmichael’s murder.”

  “Is she?”

  There was the rub. “All the evidence he has collected through the Bow Street Runners certainly points to her having motive and opportunity. She hated her husband and if he were to die she inherited all the wealth that she brought into the marriage. But on the night he died he was drunk and riding home along the cliffs.”

  “Did the horse fall from the cliff too?”

  “No. They found the horse tied to a tree near the cliff’s edge.”

  “I can see why she needs the help. Why would he have stopped?”

  “To relieve himself? To meet somebody?” Stephen spread his hands wide.

  “Or because someone with a gun forced him to stop.” The two men shared a look.

  Alex noted that Stephen’s brandy was almost empty. The duke rose from his chair behind his desk in his study and reached for the decanter on the sideboard. As he refilled Stephen’s glass Alex said, “I didn’t even know you knew Lady Penelope.”

  This time it was Stephen’s turn to laugh. “I had never met her until a week ago when she tried to outbid me on a Richard Wilson landscape at Sotheby’s. She was going to try and use the painting as leverage to make me help her.”

  “I gather that didn’t work. So what did she use instead?” At Stephen’s sly smile Alex continued. “I suspect I know, given how beautiful the lady is.”

  “You know her?”

  “Her brother is a duke. I’m a duke. Let’s just say I had spent time with the family as I was growing up. I wanted to horsewhip Carmichael for what he did to her.”

  “It is not what you think. I’m not that much of a cad. I have offered to help, and all I asked for in return was that she allow me to try and seduce her.”

  Alex raised his glass. “We all know you’ll succeed. I’ve never met any woman who could withstand your sensual skills.”

  Stephen shook his head. “I can name a few. Hestia for one. She only ever had eyes for you.”

  Alex primed like a peacock. “From what I hear Lady Penelope doesn’t have eyes for anyone. That should make it easy.”

  “I doubt that. Being married to Carmichael has not made her enamored of passion. But discussing Lady Penelope’s seduction is not why I’m here.”

  “You want my help.”

  Stephen relaxed in his chair and took another sip of brandy. Alex’s interest was piqued and he knew his friend would help.

  “Can you discreetly ask around about Carmichael’s business interests or if there was anyone he had a quarrel with? I need to build up a picture of the man and who might have wanted him dead.”

  “Besides his wife.”

  Stephen’s temper ruffled.

  Alex smiled. “I’m pretty sure there were plenty of cuckold husbands that would have liked to see him in his grave.”

  “Add them to your list too.”

  “I’m happy to help but I’d like something in return.” Stephen remained silent, praying that his friend did not ask what he thought he was going to be asked. “I’d like your agreement to be godfather to Christopher, and I’d like to add you to my will to make you guardian should anything happen to me.”

  The warmth of the summer day disappeared the instant the words left Alex’s mouth. The panic unleashed in Stephen’s gut made it difficult for his mind to function. No reasonable excuse came to him. How could he accept this honor without being honest with his friend? Why would any father wish to instill their child’s welfare to a blind man? Besides, like his father he was determined to never be a burden on anyone.

  “What a great honor. But surely you would be better to choose one of your married friends.”

  Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You may like your bachelor ways, but you are a Marquess, you will eventually marry.”

  His collar became very tight around his neck. “That is my burden for being the only son. You are lucky, my friend. You have plenty of brothers.”

  “So you’re saying yes.”

  Stephen carefully put the empty glass of brandy down on the table beside him. “I’m more than honored. Let’s wait until I have sorted out Lady Penelope’s problem. Someone may have already killed her husband, and as such is unlikely to want me to uncover their identity. It’s a dangerous task I’m undertaking. When I catch the guilty person and return home all in one piece, then I will give you my answer.”

  The frown on Alex’s face was replaced with one of concern. “You think uncovering Carmichael’s killer is this dangerous?”

  Stephen stood, ready to leave. “If it’s not an accident then perhaps it is dangerous. I put the value of Lady Penelope’s estate at close to one hundred thousand pounds.” He didn’t need to say any more. Plenty of men would kill for money much less than this.

  Alex obviously agreed, and he stood and moved to the other side of his desk to stand next to Stephen. “If Lady Penelope dies without issue, who does the estate go to?”

  “The Duchess of Lyttleton for her orphanages.”

  Alex scratched the back of his head. “The one good thing is she is unlikely to be in danger. If she dies, Rotham gets nothing. If it is Rotham, the only way he can get his hands on the money is to prove that she killed Carmichael. The estate would revert back to Carmichael and therefore to Rotham.” Alex’s faced paled further. “Then what is this about? If no one but Lady Penelope gained anything from Carmichael’s death, why kill him?”

  “My thoughts exactly. It is most likely a sad accident or I’m assuming someone simply hated the
man: A cuckold husband? A scorned lover? A creditor?” The two men walked down the stairs to the entrance foyer together. “It would certainly make my investigations so much simpler if Rotham was behind this. But quite frankly, viewing the evidence he has collected, none of it looks as if he fabricated it. It still looks like an accident except for the horse, but he could have been relieving himself and simply got too close.”

  “He wouldn’t be so stupid as to do it over the cliff, would he? I can see why Rotham is suspicious. I would be if it was my brother.”

  “If Rotham is looking for someone to blame, it is just too convenient that he’s picking on Lady Penelope. Rotham is not even considering anyone else because he gains if she’s found guilty.”

  “However, let’s not forget that the only one who benefited at all was Lady Penelope. She got rid of a man she loathed, got her freedom, and money.” Before he stepped into his carriage, Alex gave voice to his own dark thoughts. “I hope Lady Penelope is on your list. Many a man has been made to look a fool by a beautiful woman. I am wondering why she picked you. Could it be because you’re a man known to indulge in all things of beauty? That beauty turns you blind to the rest of the world.” Alex closed the door and leaned in through the carriage window. “Be careful, my friend. Don’t let her beauty blind you.”

  He merely waved goodbye and kept his thoughts to himself. He was going blind, all right, but it had nothing to do with too much beauty. Merely an irreversible, devastating eye condition.

  * * *

  —

  Penelope sat trying to keep her jiggling leg still. She smoothed her hand over her hair and spread her skirts over her slippers. She would not question why she’d taken such effort in her dress.

  Lord Clevedon arrived promptly at three as his note had stated and she wished she’d made herself eat something at midday, because now her head swam and her stomach churned. Had he uncovered something already?

  Once pleasantries were out of the way and Digby had organized refreshments, she could hold her tongue no longer. “Have you uncovered anything of interest?”

  His dark brown eyes held something more than admiration. She saw suspicion and her heart skipped a beat.

  “It’s the horse that is the issue. I spent yesterday analyzing what Rotham has uncovered. Why would he have stopped and tied up his horse and then fallen from the cliff? That puts in doubt the accident theory. I think it best if I learn more about your husband so I may understand who else may have wanted him dead. We need to find someone else who would gain from his death.”

  She swallowed back a retort that there were plenty of people who would benefit from her husband’s death. “I tried to distance myself from anything my husband was involved in. I’m not sure I can tell you much.”

  One long finger began to tap on the edge of the large leather chair he sat in. He looked like a king on his throne and she wondered if she’d been wise to unleash such a beast in this hunt.

  “What kind of man was he? Who were his friends? What were his hobbies?”

  Whoring and drinking. Honestly, what did Lord Clevedon expect her to say? “My husband was the most useless man God put upon this earth. Friends? He had none because he used, abused, and cheated everyone.”

  She could see the question in his eyes. How had she fallen for such a man? She pressed her palms together, the humiliation as raw today as it was eight years ago.

  “I was seventeen when I first met Carmichael. He was the first man that attempted to talk to me alone, even understanding the risk he took in doing so. My father would have beaten him to a pulp, let alone my brother. I was destined to marry royalty, my father would say.

  “I thought him ever so brave, and Lord, he was handsome, and because young Englishwomen are not told about men such as Carmichael, I thought this risk he took meant he held me in high regard.”

  Lord Clevedon spoke softly. “One of the first things I did was ensure my sisters were not ignorant of the world.”

  “I wish I had had such a brother.”

  She hated the look of pity in his eyes. His eyes. She wanted to have another look at them. Charlotte had learned that before he killed himself, Lord Clevedon’s father had gone blind, but Lord Clevedon’s eyes could wait.

  “Over the next twelve months Carmichael secretly courted me. He wrote me letters, sonnets, poems to my beauty.” She grimaced. “It was only after I wed I realized he’d plagiarized Lord Byron. The thrill of concealing his wooing from my father just added to his allure. My father had proposed a match with a Prussian prince almost twice my age. I was horrified and I was most definitely not going to live in Prussia. I was scared.”

  The light of understanding entered his eyes. “You thought him the lesser of two evils.”

  She shook her head. “Worse. I thought him my savior. I thought he loved me.”

  Why did she let Carmichael’s betrayal and her foolishness still eat at her soul? The tears she promised she would never shed again filled her eyes.

  “I don’t need to know more,” he softly said. His compassion almost undid her. He cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. “Did he owe money to anyone?”

  She shook her head and wiped a tear from her cheek. “No. Funnily, he gambled and whored but lost very little. He was most astute when it came to reading people, and because of that he was an outstanding gambler.” She guessed at his reason for asking these questions. He was looking for a reason why someone other than her would want to kill her husband. She licked her lips and hated how her hands became clammy.

  He was too observant. “What are you not telling me?”

  Lord help her. Her cheeks flamed.

  “If you don’t tell me everything then I cannot help you.” Lord Clevedon was right and he might learn this information from someone else, and then she might look guilty for not revealing the truth. What to tell him?

  “I’m not easily shocked, Penelope. I’ve traveled widely. Seen things that would make your head explode.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. “I believe he was in league with a French smuggler. I’m not sure how they operated but I do know we always had fine French brandy in the house, yet I did not buy it nor did any of my staff.”

  He leaned forward in his chair. “This is good. I now have a motive. Perhaps he tried to swindle his partner.”

  “How will you find this smuggler?”

  “Someone in your household must know more than they are saying. Was Carmichael close to any of the staff? Did he rely on one man in particular, your Mr. Knightly for instance?”

  “The staff is all loyal to the Guise and Sandringham families not the Rothams. They came with the house, which was gifted to me by my mother’s father, Baron du Guise, on my birth. The only man he brought with him was his valet, Jamie Stewart. I paid him off and gave him a reference not long after Carmichael’s death. I had no need of a valet.”

  Now things began to make more sense. A smuggler. A French smuggler. “This information is most promising. I don’t suppose you know where Jamie Stewart now resides?”

  She shook her head. “One of my staff may know. He was rather popular with the ladies, as was my husband,” she added drily.

  “Yes, I have His Grace, Duke of Bedford, looking into cuckold husbands.”

  “A likely long list.” She rubbed her temples. “This is far more complicated than I thought. It might take quite some time to find the answers we need to defeat Rotham sooner rather than later. I apologize. This is a much bigger task than I imagined and I’ll be taking up so much of your time.”

  “It simply gives me more time to seduce you. You in my bed is a reward I would gladly go to the ends of the world to achieve.”

  That brought a smile back to her luscious lips. “You are so very arrogant, my lord.”

  “Don’t you think it time to be more informal? We will be spending a lot of time
together. My name is Stephen. May I call you Pen?”

  She hesitated, the calculating look back in her eyes. “Only in private. At the end of this investigation I will stay in Essex and we will never see each other again, so there is no need to be overly familiar in public. Is that clear?”

  Harsh, but very clear. Still, he would unlikely wish to see her again either. He never kept in touch with past lovers and while she would become his lover, he did not intend for it to be a permanent relationship. Besides, his sight was getting worse and soon he might not be able to see anything.

  “I know that Carmichael was a complete bastard and that remarriage is probably a frightening prospect, but you are still young and beautiful. Do you not want children?”

  Pain is such a ragged emotion and one easy to spot in others. At the word “children” Penelope visually flinched.

  She fiddled with the strand of pearls at her neck. “I would have loved to have children but perhaps not with a man like Carmichael.”

  A woman with brains, compassion, and beauty should definitely have children. “You could find a good man this time. At least you’d know what to look for and your brother could help.”

  A coldness entered her eyes. “Why is it that men who also seem to have no intention of marrying for a long time, press women to marry so young? Is it so they can mold these vulnerable, inexperienced ladies into what they require? A way to ensure they are always obeyed?”

  “You cannot be that naïve. Men marry for many reasons, some for money, some for love, but most because they want heirs. Women marry usually for security. A woman needs a husband to provide for her. You are an exception as you now have your own wealth. It leaves you options. Most young women are not so lucky.”

  “I intend to keep my money this time. Marriage hands everything I have, including my body, to another. I will not give a man that power ever again.” She eyed him with curiosity. “Tell me why men of your standing look for such young wives.”

  “Men like me don’t look for a wife at all.”