The Duke's Legacy Read online

  Lord Wilsden sent her a damning glance. “Why should we not get away with murder? You were foolish enough to come here, fully expecting us to follow you, but didn’t think to bring anyone else to protect Abbey. I just knew your arrogance would lead you to suppose you could overcome us without assistance, Denver, and I was obviously right about that. If you had a weapon you would have drawn it as soon as we approached. We examined the place carefully before entering, in case you are thinking to persuade us others witnessed our arrival and will come to your rescue. There was no conveyance in evidence, other than your own, and no fresh hoof tracks. Anyone leaving the house to follow you must have taken the same path as us, and we passed no one.”

  “Then we are doomed,” Sebastian said with a casual shrug.

  Lord Wilsden shared a questioning glance with Mary Bevan but she said nothing.

  “If you have somehow managed to call for reinforcements, or have someone concealed outside, they aren’t close enough to be of service to you. Besides, you would not have risked sharing your suspicions with anyone else, just in case you were wrong about Charlie being behind it all and inadvertently tipped off the real culprits.” Wilsden rocked on his heels, looking reassured. “That would be us, of course.”

  “Since we are clearly condemned,” Sebastian said, sounding quite off-handedly casual at the prospect of meeting his maker, “perhaps you would be good enough to satisfy our curiosity, Mrs. Bevan. We suspected your involvement from the first.”

  Abbey shot Sebastian a glance. This was news to her.

  “However,” Sebastian continued. “We have have been unable to decide what you hoped to gain from it.”

  “Yes, that’s what we would very much like to know, as well.”

  Harold stepped with his father from the adjoining room, his features contorted with suppressed fury.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mary appeared rooted to the spot, too shocked to move. She blinked several times as though to dispel the image of her husband standing before her, blistering anger radiating from eyes that usually reflected no emotion stronger than compassion and understanding. She reached out to touch his coat and a strange wail escaped her lips when her fingers made contact with his person. She clutched at her throat with a claw-like hand, eyes rolling wildly from side to side, shaking her head in violent denial.

  “I told you!” she yelled at Wilsden, sounding and appearing completely demented. “You’re a blind fool. I warned you we were being duped but you couldn’t bear to think someone might outsmart you any more than you could resist confronting Abbey and Denver.” Spittle dribbled in an ugly stream from the corner of her mouth and her arms thrashed in helpless frustration against her skinny frame as the fight seemed to drain out of her. “Well, we are done for now,” she added, in a voice barely above a whisper.

  Wilsden looked over his shoulder, assessing the likelihood of his being able to escape. The solidly reassuring figure of Hodges blocked the doorway, with Bevan’s man in close support. Hodges held his pistol in a hand that didn’t waiver, keeping it trained directly in the centre of Wilsden’s chest.

  “Give me the slightest excuse to fire,” Hodges said in an emotionless voice.

  His coldly detached manner left no one in any doubt he would carry out his threat without a moment’s hesitation. Sebastian watched as Hodges disarmed Wilsden, before returning his attention to Mary Bevan, more anxious than ever to hear her explanation. Equally aware that Abbey, who had shown such remarkable courage, needed to understand what drove her. When she didn’t speak, Sebastian did so for her.

  “You were dissatisfied with your life, I think, and ambition drove you to improve yourself by whatever means you could.”

  “Dissatisfied?” Harold shook his head. “Why should she be dissatisfied? I gave her everything.”

  “Precisely.” Sebastian nodded his agreement. “You attracted the love of a decent man who offered you the opportunity to make a most advantageous marriage, but that wasn’t enough for you.” Mary snorted her derision but still didn’t speak. “I’ve seen how your resentment of Lady Abigail eats away at you, fuelling your dissatisfaction.”

  Mary was shocked into showing a reaction, albeit simply a raised brow and contemptuous sneer. “You think you have all the answers, but you know nothing.”

  “I know more than you give me credit for,” Sebastian replied calmly. “To someone who knows what to look for, you give yourself away at unguarded moments. That’s how I first learned of your envy for Lady Abigail, which alerted my suspicions. I also detected genuine longing in your voice when I was describing my tour of Italy to you.”

  “You’re quite the student of human nature,” she said sarcastically.

  “Thank you.” Sebastian inclined his head, acknowledging what he knew hadn’t been intended as a compliment. “Wilsden obviously noticed your dissatisfaction as well, which is what made him approach you in the first place. He must have been aware that a female accomplice was vital to his plans. You were ideal since Lady Abigail trusted you completely, you had unlimited access to her and more opportunities to contrive her downfall, making it seem like an accident.”

  “You know nothing!” Mary, her face puce with rage, shouted the words at Sebastian. “No one can understand what I’ve been forced to endure, since she came amongst us.” She glared at Abbey with unconcealed hatred.

  “Then do us the honour of explaining yourself.” Harold’s tone was glacial as he placed himself in front of his wife. “Explain, if you can, how you could even contemplate taking the life of an innocent young girl who has already suffered so much but has never shown you anything but kindness and consideration. Make me understand, if you’re able, what wickedness could have encroached upon your soul.” He examined his wife’s defiant expression with sadness in his eyes, softening his tone before he spoke again. “Are you unwell, Mary? Have you contracted some ailment that’s caused you to take leave of your senses?”

  Harold sounded as though he desperately wanted to believe he had hit upon an excuse to exonerate his wife’s behaviour. Sebastian felt for him excessively, especially when Mary’s response was to move towards her husband, her sharp features screwed into an ugly mask.

  “You would never understand. You are so good, so pure of mind, always willing to put others before yourself. You couldn’t see what chaos and disruption her arrival caused within the family,” she raved, pointing an accusing finger at Abbey.

  “But I didn’t mean to—”

  Sebastian stayed Abbey with a warning touch, giving Mary further opportunity to condemn herself with her own words.

  “Nothing could be done any more without first considering the impact upon Abbey’s safety. Even the smallest excursion became a major undertaking, with everyone else’s needs taking second place to hers. Did you not feel the neglect?”

  “No,” Harold replied shortly. “And you were not unduly inconvenienced by the necessary precautions we took to protect Abbey, either.”

  “Huh, not inconvenienced. How can you say such a thing? Nothing was ever the same again. The whole family must arrange their affairs to fall into line with hers, always putting our own concerns to one side and complying with whatever your father thought best for her. We were no longer masters of our own households because nothing was more important than the wretched duchy.” She pulled at her hair, pins tumbling to the floor like a flurry of autumn leaves. “It was ridiculous!”

  “That is completely untrue,” Lord Bevan replied. “You were welcomed into this family and made to feel a part of it from the first day upon which Harold made the introduction. That your background wasn’t all that I would have wished his wife’s to be was never once mentioned, not when I saw how highly he regarded you. Your unspeakable lack of gratitude for the affection we have lavished upon you is a scandal.”

  “I wondered how long it would be before my origins were mentioned,” Mary said scathingly. “It is true nothing was ever said in my hearing but one doesn’t have to hear the words
to sense the overwhelming disappointment you felt when your second son didn’t make a better match.”

  “Enough of this,” Harold said. “You still haven’t explained what you expected to gain from your villainous association with Wilsden, or why you should have taken so fiercely against Abbey. She is not to blame for her situation, and I fail to see why you should bear her such animosity. What does she have that you so desire?”

  “Money, of course!” Mary said, staring at Harold as though he was three farthings short of a shilling.

  “Money? Wilsden offered you money?” Harold looked as bemused as Sebastian felt. “We already have plenty of money of our own.”

  “Hah, not for much longer if you continue to give it away to needy causes. You seem to forget you have three daughters to launch. I am determined they will do well on the marriage-mart and that costs money.” She sent her husband an accusing glare. “By the time they reach the right age, there is unlikely to be much of our own fortune left. Charity should begin at home, Harold, and we shouldn’t have to go cap in hand to your father or her, just because you put the welfare of others before that of your own family.”

  “How much did he offer you?” Harold asked in a disgusted tone.

  “Nothing. That is not why I agreed to do this. Her personal fortune,” she said, once again pointing at Abbey, “the monies her father had before he became a duke, would be inherited by your father in the event of her death. I want nothing for myself but would have appealed to him to set up trust funds for our daughters, since you appear incapable of taking responsibility for their futures. He would have done it, too. He doesn’t need her money. Freed from his responsibility for Abbey he would have turned his attention to where it should have been all along, which is the welfare of his own grandchildren.” Mary crossed her arms over her scrawny breasts and flashed a defiant look her husband’s way, clearly thinking her logic was irrefutable.

  “You are very wicked,” Harold said in a gentle tone that was somehow far more sinister than if he’d railed against her. “Wicked and completely evil. I thought I knew you, Mary.” He shook his head, a mixture of sadness and repulsion in his expression. “I would have given you the earth, had it been in my power to do so. I thought we were of one mind, and you shared my determination to improve the lot of those less fortunate than ourselves. I felt empowered with you beside me.” He shook his head again, looking pale and anguished. “How cruelly deceived I have been.”

  “It is not too late to put your own children before the needs of your flock,” she said in a brisk voice far more like her own.

  Amazingly, Mary appeared to consider things could go on just as they had before and she would continue to twist Harold around her little finger. She had just admitted entering into a murderous conspiracy but appeared to think Harold would forgive her and take her back. Sebastian suspected she had grossly underestimated his strength of character.

  “Perhaps we should return to the house,” she said, trying to take his arm.

  Harold brushed her hand away, as though he couldn’t bear the slightest physical contact with her. “I think not.”

  Mary looked up at him and gasped, perhaps because the steely glint of determination in her kindly husband’s eye made her realise she had taken him too much for granted. She recovered her poise and touched him for a second time, speaking with brisk authority and complete confidence in her ability to bring him around.

  “Perhaps I should not have got caught up in Lord Wilsden’s scheme. I lost my common sense for a while, but can see now Abbey is not to blame for being thrust into the bosom of our family. Anyway, none of this is my fault. Wilsden convinced me it was necessary and once I became involved he gave me no opportunity to renege.” She smiled but no one returned the gesture. “No real harm has been done and we can scarce make public what has happened or the family will become embroiled in scandal. Best leave things as they are, my dear. I will beg Abbey’s pardon and, if she can find it in her heart to forgive me, we can carry on as we were before.”

  “If that is your belief then you have indeed taken leave of your senses,” Harold replied. “I cannot forget what you have done, and I am unsure if I will ever forgive you, either. You will be will be escorted back to the house, and I will decide what’s to become of you when I’ve had an opportunity to think about it.”

  Harold motioned to his father’s man, who stepped forward and took her arm. She demonstrated a surprising strength by shaking him off like an irritating fly.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Take her and lock her in her room,” Harold instructed. “If you will grant me leave to keep her at the lodge until the morning, Abbey, I will relieve you of her loathsome company at first light?”

  “Of course, Harold. Whatever you consider best.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Mary fell to her knees in front of her husband, probably only now realising that she had underestimated the power she wielded over him. Harold was guilty of indulging his wife, Sebastian suspected, but he was a man of principle and could never act against his conscience. “Come, Harold, perhaps you have reason to be vexed with me, I really do see that now, but it will soon be forgotten. You can’t be serious about locking me in my room. After all, my children will—”

  “You will never see your children again.”

  Mary’s face drained of all colour as it clearly dawned on her that Harold really did mean what he said. Even so, she still appeared unable to comprehend the enormity of what she had done, much less accept responsibility for her actions. Coming to terms with the fact that she was her husband’s chattel, and her punishment lay entirely in his hands, was equally beyond her capabilities. Sebastian recognised the exact moment when the stark truth hit her. She was to be hidden away from society and denied access to her children for the rest of her days. She clawed at the hem of her husband’s coat, keening—a terrible sound that added more tension to an atmosphere that was already taut, embarrassing them all.

  A commotion behind Hodges heralded the arrival of Evans and Charlie Wilsden.

  “We heard rumours at the house of inappropriate trysts,” Charlie said with his usual cheerful disregard for convention. “Sounded too exciting to miss and so we thought we would see what was a-foot. I see that others beat us to it and have prevented you from making away with our lovely hostess, Denver,” he added, winking at Abbey.

  “Not precisely.”

  There was nothing for it but to reveal the true nature of a strange gathering taking place in an even stranger location. Evans seemed to quickly grasp the full implications and, more specifically, Sebastian’s true purpose for being at the hunting lodge. He looked at Abbey, still held protectively at Sebastian’s side, and visibly paled.

  “You have been in danger for so long and didn’t confide in any of us, preferring to place your trust in a stranger?” He shook his head. “I cannot bear to think what agonies you must have endured.”

  He looked as though he wanted to take over as her main source of solace. When Sebastian made no move to cede his position, Evans took to moving about the room in a distracted manner while Charlie stared at his father in open-mouthed disbelief.

  “I thought you were the culprit at first,” Sebastian told him with a rueful grin. “Sorry about that, but I’m glad I was wrong.”

  “Apology accepted,” Charlie said absently, his eyes still burning into his father’s face. “I knew he wanted me to marry you, Abby, but we both knew we wouldn’t suit. No offence meant.”

  “None taken,” Abbey replied with a weak smile.

  “Besides,” Charlie said, “I’m not cut out for the role of a duke. It was no good the pater constantly ringing a peal over me on the matter. He ought to have known it wouldn’t serve. None of us can be what we’re not. All that money and responsibility. I would have made a complete mull of it.”

  Charlie shuddered rather theatrically, lightening the tension with the return of his irreverent attitude. From what he had observed over the p
ast few days, Sebastian surmised Charlie had little respect for his father, accounting for the speed and calmness with which he accepted what he had done. He certainly didn’t attempt to defend him.

  “Of course,” he added, “I had to play my part and when he was watching me, do my best to convince Father I was making myself agreeable to Abbey.”

  “That was why we were suddenly so awkward together in public,” Abbey said, “but fell back into our more comfortable ways when unobserved.”

  “Got it in one. I knew you would take immediately you were let loose on the ton, m’dear, and that you would be bound to accept an offer by the end of your season. I could then assure Father I had done my best and he would have to consent to my marrying Lady Isabel.”

  “Yes, I can quite see how difficult it must have been for you,” Abbey said with a sympathetic smile. “Especially when your heart wasn’t really in it.”

  “My heart’s taken, I’m afraid. Lady Isabel…now there’s a woman!” He threw back his head and sighed. “She shares my passion for horse flesh and is a first rate whip, as well as being deuced attractive. I’m sure we will rumble along together splendidly, and there is nothing to prevent me from approaching her father now. Although—”

  His words trailed off as he turned and faced Wilsden, roused to something close to anger as he belatedly realised what scandal his father’s actions would bring to bear upon his family’s name. Lady Isabel would never be permitted to marry into such a family. With an expression that reflected his despair, he slumped onto the seat beside Sebastian. He clasped Charlie’s shoulder, determined the engaging young man’s life wouldn’t be ruined by an evil and avaricious parent. He turned towards Lord Bevan’s man.

  “Take her away,” he said, indicating the still prostrate Mary Bevan, whose fingers had to be literally prized away from her husband’s leg. She continued to wail her remorse and beg forgiveness but her cries went unheeded by a stony-faced Harold.