Devil in My Arms (17 page)

“Madness,” Hil told him. “Eleanor is perfection. Beautiful, brilliant, witty, so full of life. Only madness could compel a man to throw that away.” He was convinced of it. He’d seen that sort of madness in too many men. A thirst for power at the expense of the weak. A need to dominate anything that frightened or threatened them.

“As is Harry,” Roger said. “I remember Eleanor when she was young. So smart and clever, a wit as sharp as a blade. But she wouldn’t harm a soul. Adored Harry, tolerated me. Pretty and vivacious. But even then she knew that sort of madness in her father, who cared little for the girls except as a means to an end.” He paused and then gave Hil a grave look. “I want him dead.”

“You’re the first man they’ll come to if that happens,” Hil argued. “And I’m the second. I’m working on it, Roger. I’m going to take care of him. I’m gathering information and biding my time. But in the end, he will be destroyed.”

“I walked away, Hil. I walked away to seek my own life and left both of them to fate. I will never forgive myself.” Roger stared off into the distance, guilt written clearly on his face.

“Nonsense,” Hil told him firmly. “You were a boy. You had no idea what would happen to those girls. And now you are a man and you are doing all you can to protect them. Whatever debt you owed is paid in full, Roger.”

The other man shook his head again and wiped his eyes with one hand before pressing a thumb and forefinger against his closed eyelids. Hil’s heart sank. He owed it to Roger, and to Eleanor, to make this right. It was too dangerous, and he’d forgotten that. Forgotten what was at stake. Eleanor’s freedom. What would a man who could do that to his wife do if he found out he’d been deceived, as Enderby had? The possibilities were endless and horrifying. “Yes,” he said. “I’ve been a reckless fool. I’m sorry.”

“She won’t like either one of you for it,” Wiley warned them. “Whatever happened in the past, she’s got her feet under her now, and a mind of her own. Mark my words.”

Both Roger and Hil laughed. “You’re right. We’ll undoubtedly hear about it,” Roger agreed. He stood up and held his hand out to Hil. They shook amicably. “You’ll come to dinner tomorrow night,” he told Hil.

“I will?” Hil felt a glimmer of hope.

“Yes, and you, too, Wiley,” Roger said as he headed out the door. “I won’t bear the brunt of the backlash by myself.”

“Aye,” Wiley muttered, turning to head back to his room. “I knew you had to have a reason for inviting me, other than a desire for my conversation. I could just kill him. I know people,” he called back over his shoulder.

“No,” Hil said, and Roger echoed his response from out in the hallway.

Hil sat down on the end of his bed, his shoulders slumping as he listened to the footman say good night to Roger and close the door below. This was it, then, the end. Suddenly his days seemed empty and dull without the prospect of his nights with Eleanor. What a great fool he was, to grow so accustomed to her.

Chapter Twelve

Dinner was a cagey affair. Harry had spent half the day planning for it, from entertainments to a seating arrangement. She’d fretted and fussed over Eleanor until she wanted to scream at her that she was fine, damn it. But she’d refrained. She’d been kept from a man’s bed, for God’s sake, she hadn’t contracted bubonic plague. Harry had made her so nervous it had taken over an hour to dress. No dress seemed suitable for the coming confrontation. She finally settled on a pale-blue one with minimal beading and fringe on the sleeves. She loathed fringe.

As she stood in the drawing room waiting for Hilary’s arrival, she berated herself for her choice of attire. Harry had obviously not had the same problem. She was stunning in a beautiful ecru gown shot with silver thread and beaded heavily around the neckline. With her beautiful blonde hair swept up onto her head in a carelessly elegant twist, and diamonds dripping from her neck and ears, she was formidable.

All the worry was for naught. The talk was of the weather, and Wiley and Hilary played chess, while Roger paced. Hilary looked divine in his green dinner jacket, a gift from Harry, who was quite pleased when he entered wearing it. When it was time to sit down to dinner, Hil ignored the seating arrangements and took the seat right next to Eleanor, who went from having no appetite to famished as soon as he sat down. The rest of the party was thrown into confusion by his move, but they all settled down to eat and talk around the large, white elephant in the room, which seemed to be Eleanor’s intimate relations. Eleanor felt equal parts amused and horrified at the situation.

After the dessert course, Eleanor had started to rise when Harry said, “I do not think it right that Roger has forbidden Eleanor to see Sir Hilary anymore.”

Eleanor’s bottom hit her chair again as her legs gave out in mortification. “Harry,” she began, but no one was listening to her.

“I have every right to do so,” Roger told her. “She lives in this house and she is my responsibility.” He pointed at his wife. “Do not get yourself in the middle of it.”

“I cry foul as well,” Wiley said. “Do I get a vote?”

“No,” Roger said flatly.

“Yes,” Hilary said. “Of course. But I think what you are all forgetting is that the only votes that count are mine and Eleanor’s.”

That certainly caused some consternation in the room. “Have you changed your mind?” Roger asked Hilary stiffly.

“No. But it seems to me no one has asked Eleanor’s opinion.”

“Not true,” Roger rushed to defend himself. “We talked about it with her last night. She understands that it’s a terrible risk.”

“Nonsense.” Harry spoke again. Her elegant and polished attire now took on new meaning, as if she’d prepared to state her case. “The risk was in the way they were going about it. Surely a more circumspect courtship would not be looked at amiss by the ton, nor noted in the papers.”

“Yes, yes, what about that?” Roger insisted. He pointed at Hilary. “You were in the papers. Tell them, Harry.”

Eleanor turned to Harry, shocked and frightened. “What did it say?” she asked. She reached for Hil’s hand. “Was your name mentioned or mine? Was there anything about our connection to the dead Eleanor Enderby?”

Hilary took her hand and squeezed. He answered instead of Harry. “No. I saw the little on-dit. It was all speculation. I was a ‘dashing inquisitor’ and you were ‘a widow of little renown,’ which I personally thought was rather harsh.”

“Oh, God,” Eleanor said, and closed her eyes with renewed mortification. “And what was my ‘widow of little renown’ doing with your ‘dashing inquisitor’?” she asked with a sinking feeling.

“Apparently I have been bewitched by your charms and have taken leave of my senses. Or something like that.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It was less flattering to me than to you. It implied I had a weakness of character. Can you imagine?”

Eleanor gave him a sharp look. That sinking feeling was now turning into a definite case of seasickness. “Yes, I can. Focus, Hilary. Was there anything to connect me to Enderby?”

“No,” he told her, and there were several voices of agreement around the table. “You were not identified as the formerly dead Eleanor Enderby, and I was not labeled the
fool trying to protect her from her brutish husband. I think we’re safe.”

“Sarcasm does not become you,” she said primly, then she took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

“Too bad it’s his favorite accessory,” Roger murmured.

“Sarcasm becomes me far better than most, I think. I tend to overplay the softer tones,” Hilary mused.

“You are making light of Eleanor’s situation,” Harry said stridently. “She’s right. She can’t afford to be in the papers. You really must stop, Sir Hilary.”

He bowed his head with real contrition. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Templeton. You are correct. I shall speak to the fellow who wrote this.”

“That won’t do anything,” Roger argued. “The only way to stop it from happening is for the two of you to stop carrying on. Our entire plan rests on Eleanor remaining undiscovered.”

“I’m growing weary of that plan,” Hilary snapped. “What it means is that she’s locked into another kind of prison.”

“Then think of another plan,” Roger ground out between clenched teeth, “since you won’t leave her alone to make a success of this one. We are trying to avoid legal action and a nasty trial, Hil.”

Eleanor felt her face burn with embarrassment. “We have already agreed not to see one another,” she told Roger, her voice sharper than she’d planned. She took another deep breath. “I think it best if I leave,” she said in a rush.

Harry stood up. “Leave? Where will you go?” she cried with distress.

Hilary was holding her hand so tightly now it was painful. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I put all of you at risk by staying here. This ruse, as you call it, has grown onerous to you all. I can no longer ask you to lie and deceive people for my benefit.”

“If you think you’re going to set their minds at ease by going off and disappearing,” Wiley said, “you’re dead wrong.” Roger glared at him. “I couldn’t resist,” Wiley said with a shrug. “But all puns aside, she’s still wrong. She’ll only worry the lot of you more.”

“He’s right, Eleanor,” Roger said. “That’s no solution. And then Enderby wins again, doesn’t he?”

“If I come forward, perhaps the authorities will be more concerned with whomever Enderby buried in my name,” Eleanor suggested, desperate for a solution.

Hilary sighed beside her. “It would seem the body had already degenerated quite a bit by the time it was found,” he told her sadly. “It was identified by clothing and general appearance, like hair color, and also by location.” He gave her an admiring look. “I assume you left some misleading clues as to your destination.”

She nodded. “I did. Where did they find it?”

“Near Twyford,” he told her. “And so there can be no proof of foul play on his part.”

“Do you think he genuinely believes the dead woman to be Eleanor?” Roger asked. Eleanor held her breath.

“No.” At Hilary’s response her shoulders slumped. “But I will continue my investigation, Eleanor, and I will get to the bottom of it. Never fear.”

“Ellie,” Harry said. Eleanor looked up at her. “I still say we are all overreacting. The thing to do here is to avoid a scandal. And that starts with you two. Do you think you can do that?”

Eleanor looked at Hilary. He looked as bleak as she felt. “Yes,” she said, but her heart was breaking. She wished she had the freedom to jump headlong into a scandal with Hilary. How wonderful that would be. Hilary kissed the back of her hand, but unlike Eleanor, he made no promises.

* * *

The evening was quite subdued after dinner, and it was only a short time later that Wiley left. “I don’t really know how to do this sort of supper thing yet,” he commented. “Gives me a bit of a headache, really. Off to the pub.”

“We are off to bed,” Roger suddenly announced after Wiley’s departure, taking Harry’s arm and dragging her to the door. “Good night.”

“We’re what?” Harry asked in bewilderment.

“Come along.” Roger gave Hilary and Eleanor a hard stare and then he closed the door.

Eleanor stared after them in shock. “Well. What do you suppose that was all about?”

Hilary slid off his chair and came to sit next to Eleanor on the dark-green velvet sofa. “Do you need me to open a window?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. I’m much better about that now.” She smiled. “As long as a room has windows, that is.”

Without warning, he grabbed her and lowered her back down over his lap, one arm wrapped around her, holding her to his chest. “I think this is Roger’s way of giving us some privacy.”

“But I thought we weren’t to see one another anymore,” she protested, even as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“No. You are not to sneak out in the middle of the night to come to my house, and we are not to act scandalously in public. There is a great difference.”

Eleanor gasped. “Oh, do you think so? Because that would be lovely.”

“What would?” he asked, smelling her hair and nuzzling her neck just under her ear.

“Not having to stop seeing you,” she murmured, arching her neck to give him better access.

“Like seeing me, do you?” he said softly with a little nip on her earlobe.

“For now,” she prevaricated. “How much time do you think Roger will give us?”

“All night,” Hilary said, reaching down and inching her skirt up. “I plan to ravish you, you know. I missed you last night.”

Eleanor hiked her skirt up and grabbed his hand, placing it exactly where she wanted it. She gave a breathy little moan. “I missed you, too.”

“We are perilously close to making declarations,” Hilary whispered in her ear while he rubbed her sex with delicious intent.

“Oh, dear, none of that,” she whispered back, her hips moving with abandon under the ministrations of his skilled hand. “But if you insist, I am mad for you.” It was the closest she had come to admitting her feelings, and her stomach flipped at how vulnerable she was making herself. She thrust aside her misgivings and pressed her breasts to his chest, a sound of profound frustration coming from her at the restrictions
their clothes placed on them. Her reward was a kiss, one of Hilary’s kisses, a wild, intense, passionate kiss full of hunger and need. She felt the same way, and he was so right. It could only be expressed like this, in a kiss of such magnitude she felt as if she’d explode from the feelings coursing through her.

Hilary broke the kiss and let go of her to reach for his cravat. She helped him remove it, and kissed the neck they exposed. “Are you averse to a tumble on the drawing room sofa?” he asked breathlessly.

“Not at all,” she told him, changing her position to straddle his legs. “It is very sturdy.”

“Good,” he said with a laugh. “It wouldn’t do for the sofa to collapse, endangering you.”

“And bringing the entire house down around our ears,” she muttered.

“I assume you mean the occupants, and not the house itself,” Hilary said, pausing as he tried to remove his tight jacket without dislodging her. “I am an ardent lover, to be sure, but hardly that powerful.”

She laughed in delight at his joke, her heart much lighter than it had been just a few short minutes ago. “Yes, the occupants, my ardent lover. You are too full of yourself by half.”