Midnight Bride (52 page)

"At five.
Do you think the earl will be back by then? What should I say?"

"Not anything foolish. Hartley probably believes that you are bluffing. He may not expect to see you at all. Are you armed?"

"Armed? Robert, what are you saying?" Elizabeth demanded. "If there is going to be trouble, he should not go."

"He must, my dear, if he plans to free himself from this fear of scandal." Dunstan's hand on her shoulder reminded Elizabeth of the decision they had made last summer. They looked into each other's eyes, searching for something that was hidden.

The clock struck the half hour. Charles stood up slowly. "I do not want to be late," he said slowly as if he had to force the words from his mouth. "My groom should be outside now waiting."

"When you get there, Charles, turn your team over to the
ostler
and take the groom into the public room with you. Will Hartley recognize him?" Dunstan
asked,
his face suddenly serious.

"Be careful, little brother," Elizabeth said with a catch in her throat. She threw her arms around Charles's neck and hugged him close.

"I will, Little Bit," her brother said in her ear. He shook hands with Dunstan and walked out the door.

Elizabeth burst into tears and threw herself in her husband's arms. "Don't cry, my dear. Charles will be just fine," he said quietly as he held her close.

When Charles returned two hours later, his face was as gray as a winter sky. Even without words all three people looking at him knew that the meeting had not gone as planned.

"Are you hurt?" Elizabeth cried, running to meet him. She was dressed for a ball in a new silk gown in a rich color much like the reddish color of the urns from Greece that were being exhibited in London.

"No." He turned to the earl. "My lord, it would be best if I talked to my sister and brother-in-law alone for a time. I am sorry, but some of what Hartley said concerns them. They may tell you later if they wish, but I cannot."

The older man nodded, accepted his cloak and hat from the butler, and turned. "Shall I make your regrets to our hostess?" he asked. Dunstan looked at Elizabeth and then nodded.

"Come. Let us go to the library. Bring some wine," Dunstan said. Nothing was said until the servant was gone and the door closed firmly behind him. Charles made certain, opening the door to check for listening servants and then shutting it again.

"He was surprised," he began bluntly, crossing to stare into the fireplace, where the embers burned hot. "You were correct in that." He whirled around
to face them. "And he hates us, you especially, Elizabeth. You and Mama tried to persuade me to stop seeing him. And you cost him money." Charles closed his eyes and walked to one of the large leather chairs. He sat down as though he could not bear to stand any longer and put his face in his hands. "He took great pleasure in telling how he planned to ruin all of us. When he is called before the House of Commons to testify, he will tell them I bribed him to buy his commission. He has a copy of my draft and a copy of my commission with the price at the top. Then he plans to tell how I plotted with him to ruin my sister in order to gain the money to buy the commission. Cecile's grandfather will force her to cry off now." Because he was tired and upset and his head was in his hands, his words were muffled. But Dunstan had heard enough.

"Tell me what he meant when he said you plotted to ruin your sister?" Dunstan said as he grabbed his brother-in-law and pulled him to his feet. Not even the sight of Charles's eyes with the light gone out of them could still his anger. Elizabeth, her hand pressed to her mouth, stood still, her eyes wide with horror.

"I told him I did not know what he was talking about. Then he reminded me of the note I had signed." Charles stood there waiting for Dunstan to hit him, too despondent to put up resistance.

"What note?"

"The one promising him one fourth of the profits if you married and I sold the manor."

"Charles, you didn't?" He glanced up once, but the look on his sister's face was too much to bear. He looked at the floor again.

"I thought it was a bet. I paid him off." Charles stumbled back to his chair, his hand over his face.

Dunstan
,
his face disapproving, brought him a glass of brandy. Charles grasped it tightly, his fingers white against the bowl. He downed it in one gulp. The room was silent as they waited for him to continue, certain he had not finished his story.

When he had himself under control again, Charles raised his head. His sister was still standing where she had been, staring at him. Dunstan was seated nearby. "He said I agreed to the scheme. I do not know. I was too angry with you, Elizabeth, and too far gone in drink to know what I was saying or doing. At least I hope I was," he added truthfully. Elizabeth's eyes grew wider as though she knew what was coming next. "My job was to apologize and get you to drink a glass of drugged wine, Elizabeth. Listen to me! I betrayed my own sister, caused her ruin." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Then he said quickly. "He used the others too. They plied you with brandy, Dunstan, and kept you gambling until everything was ready."

Dunstan got up slowly and crossed to his wife. He put his arm around her as if to shield her. His face was angry but controlled. "Hartley enjoyed telling me this," Charles said with a bitter laugh. "He enjoyed what he did. And I called the man a friend.
A friend?
He is a devil. He enjoys making people suffer. I could see it in his eyes tonight. Why couldn't I see it before? How many lives has he wrecked?"

"Too many.
Far too many," Dunstan said quietly. "Finish your story.

"It will never be finished. Not when he can do this again. And he will. It is how he lives, how he enjoys life."

"Charles, we will worry about what to do with Hartley later," Elizabeth said, her voice a throaty quaver. "Tell us what happened." Her lips were a white line as she bit them to keep them from trembling.

"According to him, I took the wine to your room, and he followed me, to be certain of its location, I suppose. After I left and went to bed, he helped you upstairs, Dunstan. According to him, you were on the go but had not passed out. He took you to Elizabeth's door, began to loosen your clothes. You opened the door and walked in, telling him that you had learned to undress yourself when you were a child. Shut the door behind you. Made him angry, you did. He went to bed and waited until the next morning. Nothing happened. He decided that you had not been as drunk as he had believed. That when you realized you were not in your own room, you left. He thought one of the servants helped you to bed." Charles crossed to the brandy decanter and poured himself another glass.

Elizabeth collapsed on Dunstan's chest, breathing hard. His arms tightened convulsively about her. No matter how the marriage had happened, she was his, and he did not plan to let her go. Nor would he let her feel regret or shame. He kissed her curls softly.

"That is not all. When you asked him to leave, Elizabeth, he decided that whether or not anything had happened, he would make people believe it had. He decided to ruin you. When the carriage broke on the way to London, they stopped at the White Hart and found Susan working there. With some inducement, he did not tell me what, he persuaded her to tell the coachman and the groom that she knew you had had a man in your room. She was not lying. Dunstan, Hartley had seen you walk in. Of course, Elizabeth was totally unaware of it. You know the rest."

"Was he the one who spread the story in Brighton?" his sister asked
,
her eyes on her husband's face trying to decide his reactions.

"Yes. And he planned to do the same thing to me. But the earl stopped him. Now no one can stop him. Told me it would take fifty thousand pounds. Fifty thousand! And then he would want more
later
." Charles sat there and stared into the glass of brandy, wishing that he could escape his problems as easily as the brandy disappeared.

For Elizabeth the shock was beginning to wear off and anger had set in. She pulled away from Dunstan and walked over to her brother. She took the glass from his hand forcibly. "You have had enough of this. Haven't you learned your lesson yet? How do you expect to protect
Cecile?"
She set the glass down so hard it rocked. She walked up and down the room in front of him, letting all her emotions free. "I was in your care, and what did you do? You sold me for a commission. Charles, I am ashamed to be your sister. And
Cecile
will be ashamed to be your wife. If I were she, I would definitely want to cry off. Look at you, sitting there, drowning your
griefs
. What good will it
do
? What good will it
do
?" By her last words she was crying and hitting out at Charles, who simply sat there, taking his punishment as he thought he deserved.

Dunstan grabbed her, pulling her into his arms. "Stay here," he told Charles as he took his wife from the room, carrying her into the small salon across the hall. "Stop this, Elizabeth," he demanded, giving her a shake.

"Did you hear him? My own brother was party to putting a man in my room. How many people have known? Were they all laughing at us?"

"Didn't you hear what he said?" He gave her another shake, more forceful this time. "Hartley thought I escaped his plan."

"But I did not.
I,
was asleep and yet I was ruined. Of course, I could not remember that evening. My own brother drugged me." She burst into tears again. Dunstan tried to draw her into his arms, but she pulled away. "The whole story will be spread out in the House of Commons. We shall be written up in the papers just like the duke and his mistress. Our families will be ruined." She hit her husband as she had hit her brother.

Finally Dunstan had had enough. Capturing her hands, he gathered her close, stopping her words with his lips, allowing her only moments to breathe between kisses. Gradually her tears ceased, and she lay against him quietly, listening to the beat of his heart, fast and hard. When he thought she was calm enough to listen, he said, his words ringing clear and true. "You are my wife, mine. Do you understand?" She nodded, her hand creeping between the buttons on his waistcoat and shirt to rest on his chest. "No matter why we married, we are married. I will never let you go. And no one will hurt you." His voice was cold and determined. "I will take care of Hartley." He stepped back, letting her go. Then he rushed into the hall, calling for his coat. Seeing his evening cloak lying on the table, he picked it up and threw it around him, his face set in angry lines. He rushed out of the house.

"Dunstan, Dunstan!" Elizabeth cried. When he did not return, she darted into the library. Charles looked at her warily, not certain what to expect from his sister even though only hours before he thought he knew her better than anyone else. He looked around for Dunstan, not really wanting to deal with Elizabeth on his own. "Charles, you must do something immediately. Dunstan just left the house in a rage. Go after him. He may kill Hartley and be sent into exile. Charles, I like England, and I want my husband alive. Go after him."

Before she had finished her speech, Charles was out the door, not certain where he was going. "Did you see a man come out of this house in the last few minutes?" he asked a linkboy standing near the steps. The boy nodded. "Where did he go?"