Marguerite Kaye - Regency Surrender - Scandal And Deception

She smiled and turned away. With such a dramatic imagination, she should be writing novels of her own. This one sounded like the sort where the fallen woman died in jail, after writing lengthy apologies to God and man for crimes which were caused by the actions of others. Family and friends, and the handsome hero all mourned her loss, though none of them had done a thing to help her when she was alive and with them.

While she had no objection to confession, she would offer no more apologies. Had she been forced to live her life again, it would most likely have gone much the same. Many of the choices had been forced upon her. Others, like the decision to come to Wales and give herself to Will Felkirk... No matter how wrong it had gone in the end, she could not bring herself to regret it. She reached up and plucked the cap from her head, dropping it to the floor beside the bed. Then she left her room and went down to meet her fate, head unbowed and uncovered.

She found Will and the duke in the study, a light breakfast on the desk between them. The diamond pouch lay there as well, leaning casually against the sugar box as though loose diamonds were but one more thing that the aristocracy sprinkled into their tea.

At her entrance, both men rose and Will said, ‘Will you join us, Miss de Bryun? And close the door behind you,’ he added, glancing towards the hall to make sure no one had heard.

Miss de Bryun. That was her name. But she could not think when she had heard it pronounced in that particular tone. Perhaps this was what she’d have heard in that imaginary meeting between herself and a pleasant young man in a shop in Bath.

‘My lord,’ she said, closed the door and curtsied. ‘Your Grace.’ She had done that wrong. She should probably have acknowledged the duke before his brother. But there had been no duke in her fairy-tale meetings. Nor had she needed to plead before one for life and liberty.

Will got a chair and pulled it up to a corner of the desk, then seated her and passed a third plate and the toast rack. There was a third teacup as well. They had expected her and had not wanted to disturb the conversation with the comings and goings of servants.

‘My brother has given his version of the morning’s events,’ the duke said, sipping his tea with no sign of anxiety. ‘Since I trust him, we will spare you the repeating of what must have been a most traumatic event. For the purpose of the inquest, I will say that an intruder threatened you both and met with an unfortunate end. Since he was also responsible for a murder on the property some years ago, and an earlier attack on my brother, we have been saved the price of the rope needed to hang him.’ He gave her a pointed look. ‘And that is all that will be said about that.’

‘Thank you, your Grace.’ Was it really to be so easy as that? She deserved some sort of punishment for taking Mr Montague from the world, even though it was a great relief to think that she would never see him, or hear his voice again.

‘Did the man have family?’ Bellston asked. ‘Was there any that we need notify?’

‘None but my sister and myself. He was our guardian, when our mother died, and in charge of our affairs.’

‘Your guardian,’ the duke repeated, clearly appalled.

‘He was not just my father’s partner, but his oldest and dearest friend. In Father’s will, he was charged with the keeping of the business and of our family. And when my mother died...’ She swallowed. ‘We went to him, hoping he would be like a father to us. That was not the case.’

Beside her, Will cursed beneath his breath.

‘When you came of age,’ the duke said, regaining his composure, ‘why did you not leave?’

Will gave a warning growl in the direction of his brother. Clearly, he did not like the line of questioning. The duke held up a hand. ‘Silence, William. I have other questions about recent events involving Miss de Bryun. I mean to have them answered to my satisfaction.’

Justine gave them both an encouraging nod. It had all been very polite and rational so far and not the barrage of shouted accusations she had imagined. ‘When I came of age, there was still my sister to consider. Until she came of age as well...’ She busied herself with the marmalade pot, trying not to think of all the horrible things that might have occurred ‘...I could not leave her alone in his care.’

‘And when you came to my home under false pretences and lied to Penelope and I, pretending to be my brother’s wife?’

‘Lord Felkirk was bleeding and near death. But he had not yet expired and I did not wish to be an accessory to his murder. If he could be healed, I would attempt it. But if he was to die, it would be better that he did it in the presence of his family. Lying about our relationship was a bad idea, but on the journey here I could not manage to think of a better one.’

The duke sat quite still for a moment, thinking. ‘Nor can I,’ he said. ‘Considering all the evidence, I have no real desire to prosecute you. Saving my brother’s life on at least two occasions tips the balance in your favour. As to some of the more unsavoury parts of this story, I will leave them to you to explain or conceal from my wife and friends, as you see fit.’

‘Thank you, your Grace,’ she said, rising as he rose and curtsying again.

Now that business was done, Bellston seemed to relax again into the more brotherly figure she had grown accustomed to seeing. ‘I will leave you and Miss de Bryun alone now, Will. I am sure you have much to talk about.’

‘We do, indeed,’ Will said and rose to walk him to the door.

Once they were both gone from the room, Justine relaxed back into her chair, surprised to find her hands trembling as they raised her teacup. She had avoided prosecution. At one time, it was all she had hoped for. But who knew there would be so much to lose?

Will returned to the room and took his chair beside her again, putting his hands on his knees and sighing in satisfaction. ‘That went well, I think,’

‘Better than I’d hoped,’ she said, setting down the cup, careful that it did not rattle against the saucer as she did so.

‘Now that Montague is gone, you and your sister are free to do as you like.’

Free. Justine rather liked the sound of the word. But it bothered her that he could be so cavalier about her freedom. Had her dependence on him been such a burden?

‘My brother has agreed to help with any legal matters concerning the transfer of the shop to your full ownership. He will take the guardianship of your sister upon himself, until she is of age. The diamonds are yours, as well,’ he added, sliding the pouch across the desk to her.

‘Mine.’ This was what she had wanted from the first. Why, now that she had achieved her goal, did it seem valueless?

‘Well, in truth, they likely belong to the insurance company. Montague would not have gone to the trouble of trying to take them if he had not meant to file a claim. But even after they are reimbursed, you may see a considerable profit from their increased value.’ Will was talking quite sensibly of things that would have interested Margot far more than they did her. The details of the transfer were probably important. Perhaps focusing on them would relieve the feelings of panic at being alone with the man whom she had tricked.

‘What am I to do with a jewellery shop?’ she said, baffled. ‘I know how to purchase and grade the stones, of course, but Montague was the designer and goldsmith. And there are the books to be kept, employees to pay, customers to please...’ There was so very much work. And it was all a very long way from Wales.

‘You could always sell it,’ he suggested. ‘Or hire a manager until your sister is ready to take control.’