A Promise of More (25 page)

“A previous engagement? That sounds interesting. Is he entertaining someone
else?”

Beatrice felt her face heat. Christina knew where Sebastian was, and if she weren’t in the middle of this ball, Beatrice would have loved to throw the contents of her glass in Christina’s smug and knowing face.

Trust the beautiful widow to think what probably everyone here this evening thought. Her husband didn’t wish to be seen with her and had tired of her already.

She really longed to be able to tell Christina exactly where her husband was, but of course she couldn’t.

“Yes, he is out with the Duke of Lyttleton.”

“Out gambling, I suppose, and doing things that lords do of an evening. Perhaps visiting old friends of his and your brother’s. Escaping from Henpeck Hennessey. That’s a pity, I was hoping to speak with him tonight.”

The stem of her flute almost snapped under the pressure of her fingers. Pity it wasn’t Christina’s neck.… “I’m more than capable of taking a message to my husband, if you’d like.”

Christina gave a malicious laugh. “I don’t think so. I had a far more personal message to give to him. One that is probably not appropriate to receive from one’s wife.”

With a forced smile she replied, “Why don’t you find a man of your own? Especially as it appears my husband has moved on.”

The sureness on Christina’s face faded. “He left me only because he had to flee after the duel.”

Beatrice gave her a look filled with mock surprise. “A duel he faced because he was found in Clarice Hudson’s bed. It would appear he’d moved on before the duel. Perhaps you simply didn’t fulfill him as you state.”

“And you think you will? Isn’t he back with Miss Hudson tonight? You watch and wait, soon I’ll have him back in my bed.” Anger scored Christina’s features and for once she looked ugly.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Beatrice rose to her feet. “I think you might be waiting a long time.”

Marisa had finished her dance with Lord Proctor on the other side of the ballroom, and without giving Christina another thought, Beatrice left to join her.

Christina plastered a smile on her face while inside she was seething. How had she let a woman like Beatrice Hennessey outwit her? She was even more determined Sebastian would be hers. She sat there scheming, all sorts of scenarios running through her head, like taking the gun that was in her study and shooting Beatrice between her eyes before she scratched them out.

“It would appear we might be able to mutually help each other.”

Christina turned her head to see Lord Dunmire standing just over her shoulder. “I thought you’d declined an invitation to attend tonight?” she said.

“I don’t wish to be seen.”

“I won’t bother to ask why. Well, it’s impolite to eavesdrop. But then, a man like you has never been known to be polite. What is it you want?”

He offered Christina his arm and said, “Perhaps you and I could take a stroll in the garden; it is rather warm in here, as the flush on your face suggests. Or is that anger?” He held up a hand. “Don’t flay me with that vicious tongue of yours. I have a proposition that might be of interest to you.”

Christina eyed him warily before standing and accepting his proffered arm. “I’d heard you had offered for Beatrice Hennessey, is that true?”

He waited until they were out through the French doors and walking down the stairs into the darkened garden before replying. “Yes. A man always wants what he can’t have. You should heed that saying, my love. I’ve wanted her for a long time, and when Doogie Hennessey was shot in the duel, I assumed, given the family’s financial situation, she would have no option but to accept my offer. But the chit turned me down. Me!” He struggled to control the rage. “She outsmarted me by approaching Lord Coldhurst.”

Christina laughed. “Well, that’s not hard to do, but what I don’t like is she outsmarted me as well. I thought with Sebastian returning from exile, in disgrace, that I might have a chance. Given his scandalous past, he needed a respectable woman to ensure the scandal died down, and I knew he would need to marry.”

“It seems we both want things that are not mutually exclusive.”

She twisted her head to take the measure of him before looking him in the eye. “It appears you are a little too late. Any plan should have been implemented before they married.”

“Perhaps.” He halted beneath an oak tree, far from the terrace and out of earshot. “I don’t want Beatrice for long. All I care about is getting my hands on her. I
wish to teach her a lesson. In fact, I don’t particularly care if she has a dreadful accident once I’ve finished with her. But I will decide how long she stays with me. I have a long memory and I don’t take kindly to those who make a fool of me.”

Christina didn’t even flinch at his dastardly words.

He continued, “With your help I shall have her, leaving you to console Sebastian.”

“I’m sure we can come to some arrangement. But humor me.” She looked him over. “What on earth do you see in a woman like Beatrice Hennessey?”

He struggled for words. Surprisingly, he had genuinely liked Beatrice before she threw his offer back in his face. She was intelligent and beautiful in her refined way. “Revenge. I want to knock her into the dirt, blow her off her high pedestal, and ground her beneath my boot. I want to make her suffer. There is no reason why I can’t take a trip to the Colonies. America is a big country and we can quite easily get lost there. Besides, I feel that she’ll have a terrible accident while we are at sea.”

“Well, I never thought you had it in you, Dunmire. What has Beatrice done to deserve you?”

He raised an eyebrow and gave a wicked smile. “It is what she didn’t do. A woman like her, a woman on the shelf, with no dowry and a stupid younger brother who was frittering away the family’s finances, should have been grateful for an offer from me. Instead, she held an action of mine against me and turned her nose up as if I were nothing.”

“Tsk, tsk. That was rather silly of her, wasn’t it? For I know you are a man who does not take slights easily.”

They had wandered into a darkened area of the garden and Christina turned to face him. “So tell me, what is your plan? I’m more than happy to help you get rid of Beatrice Hennessey, but I would be happier if I knew she was dead immediately. She’s too clever by far, and you …”

Dunmire’s fists curled tight at her implication. “Well, you will just have to do it my way. I want Beatrice and I want her alive. So here is my plan …”

As arranged, Sebastian made his way from Clarice’s house directly to White’s. He
had arranged to meet Arend and Maitland and disclose any information he had coerced from Clarice’s sweet lips.

They would be surprised to know that it hadn’t taken any coercion at all. He hadn’t had to taste her sweet lips and he was surprised that he wasn’t disappointed. His stride lengthened and anger hummed on the realization the only sweet lips he wanted were his wife’s.

Clarice was a wise woman. She knew that it would be better to help them catch the culprit, because she was in danger until they did.

He found the two men sitting at their usual table near the window and made his way over to them. As he sat down, Maitland signaled for another bottle of brandy to be delivered with an extra glass.

It was Arend who immediately got to the point. “Well, did you manage to learn anything?”

Sebastian ran his hand around his collar and loosened his cravat. This business was taking its toll on him—and, he was sure, on Beatrice; perhaps that was the cause of her outburst this afternoon. “It didn’t take long to find out what I wanted.”

“I’m surprised you arrived so quickly. I thought it might have taken you a lot longer,” Maitland said. “Or perhaps you would stay to sample the delights so rudely interrupted several months ago.”

“I’m married.”

His friends responded to his comment with surprised coughs, and Arend dryly remarked, “I thought your marriage was for your convenience. Miss Hudson was very convenient.”

Sebastian bit back a sharp retort, having fed their amusement already, and merely replied, “Clarice knew why I was calling. She is not a stupid woman.”

“She is a beautiful woman,” Arend said, “but I assume she’s had to be clever as well to get where she is today. She has always been in demand as a courtesan but her protectors are usually long-term. No one gives her up very quickly, and it takes intelligence to keep most men interested as long as she does.”

Arend spoke the truth. Clarice was one of the most sought-after courtesans in London, but she was particular. She enthused over patrons who were more inclined to keep her long-term, hence why she had never been any Libertine Scholar’s mistress. None of them did long-term.

“She also knew something wasn’t right about the duel,” Sebastian said. “She
was paid three thousand pounds.”

His two friends gasped in shock at the amount of money that she had been offered. It was unlikely that even as prominent a courtesan as Clarice could earn that amount of money as quickly or ever.

“She was given a note and asked to invite me to her bed. She doesn’t know who it was from, or who paid her the money. She did, however, suggest we talk to the bank, which again was a very clever idea.”

“So a dead end?”

Sebastian shook his head. “No, there is more. Remember, Miss Hudson is clever. She investigated the note when Doogie died. By shading the paper, she saw an indentation. The writing paper had the initials H.B. indented on it, but she has no idea who H.B. is. That is where the bank comes in. I’m hoping that the bank might be able to match the initials H.B. on the note to the depositor.”

Arend looked at him and just shook his head. “Sloppy. It’s too obvious, perhaps meant to send you down the wrong track.”

Sebastian sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. “You are absolutely right, Arend. They want us to find who sent us this note. Which indicates H.B. can’t help us learn the true identity of our mysterious enemy, but we have to follow every lead.”

“Have you spoken to Beatrice?” Maitland asked. “I’m wondering if it was a friend of Doogie’s and that is why it was so easy to set you both up. She might have an inkling of who H.B. is.”

“My wife”—he still stumbled over the word, it was still alien to him—“is at the ball with Marisa. She won’t be home for a few hours yet. I’ll ask her when I get home.”

Maitland shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “That reminds me, did you find out where Beatrice was going yesterday? Hadley let slip that he’d seen her flag down a hackney. I was wondering if she’d snuck out to do her own inquiries. Why else would she hire a hackney when she had your stable of coaches at her disposal?”

The two men looked expectantly at him. Sebastian stared at Maitland. “What goes on between myself and Beatrice is my business. Hadley should have been more discreet. I thank you to keep your nose out of it.”

“My, we are a bit testy tonight,” Maitland said.

Arend piped up. “It’s probably because Sebastian saw Dunmire deep in conversation with Beatrice at the ball the other night. The man seemed very interested
in Sebastian’s wife. You’re not jealous, are you, Sebastian?”

Sebastian made sure his face remained calm although his emotions were rioting. He had been jealous. Just like his father. A rage had engulfed him and he didn’t like the fact that Dunmire had put his hands on Beatrice. But he wasn’t about to let his friends know that. They would read far too much into it. He wanted a nice pliant wife who behaved and whom no other man wanted.

“You are jealous,” Arend exclaimed. “Although I’ve seen the way Beatrice looks at you. She was half in love with you the minute you offered for her. And you don’t like that.”

“Would you?” he appealed to Arend. “You are the one who refuses to acknowledge that we have to marry to ensure our line. You’re the one who keeps saying that you are not going to do your duty and that you don’t care about titles.”

Arend bristled under Sebastian’s words. “I lost my title when our family was thrown out of France years ago. It means less than the empty words of your marriage vows. None of the women at the ball your wife is attending tonight would look twice at me as a marriage prospect. I’m merely an entertaining and pleasurable interlude.”

“I think you are being too hard on yourself,” Maitland said. “You are a very wealthy man in your own right. There are plenty of families at the ball who could do with an injection of money into their line.”

“Oh yes, I’ve always wanted to be bought purely for my wealth,” Arend replied sarcastically.

Maitland as usual just said what came into his head. “Well, women have been selling themselves like that for years. Why should we be any different?”

“How did this discussion get onto marriage?” Arend said. “Christian’s married and now Sebastian’s married, I suspect the rest of us will be following suit soon, but I intend to make sure I’m the last one to enter the parson’s noose. And if I decide I’m never going to marry, I mean it.”

Maitland picked up the bottle of brandy and refilled everyone’s glasses. “I’m going to marry, and I’m not really fussed about who I marry as long as they have good bloodlines. I suspect that given Christian and Sebastian have done their duty and married, I should really start looking around for a wife too. I just wish Grayson would get back home safely so that I could talk to him about it. Perhaps one of his or your”—he nodded at Sebastian—“sisters would be appropriate.”