Authors: Embracing Scandal
However, Sybila hadn’t finished. “Oh, and if you think of refusing, remember this. I’ll make your little escapades with my mathematical cousin common gossip. Her family will never be received after it becomes known she’s your mistress.”
Fury such as he’d never felt before consumed him. It took extreme effort to remain calm. “No one will believe you.”
“Oh, but they will.” She smirked again. “Especially when Julia finishes spreading her gossip, the same way she did before.”
“What do you mean, before?”
“What? You still didn’t realise? It was due to Julia’s scheming that your father reviled you and that my dear, late departed husband, challenged you to a duel.”
Cayle felt sick. Deep down, he’d known Julia had instigated his problems four years ago, but confirmation was still a blow.
“I’m no longer that same naïve man. I’ll not be caught here with you, Sybila.” He strode to the door and searched for the key. When Sybila followed and ran her hand down his back, he slapped away her hand in disgust. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“Oh no, my darling. I’ve planned this for a long time. You slipped away last time, but this time I’ll have you and your titles. You were supposed to kill my miserable viscount so I could become your wife without the scandal of breaking my vows. Not run away for four years.”
“My God. You’ll never be my duchess. Nor will I ever let you hurt Becca.”
Sybila laughed, a sickening, high-pitched wail. “How revoltingly sweet. You really imagine you love her, don’t you?”
Cayle refused to answer, but she didn’t seem to care. She didn’t seem quite sane. “It matters not a whit to me. My only concern is the title and your lovely, lovely money. Once Julia has her share of the family fortune, we’ll be rid of her. The rest will be ours. Perhaps we’ll arrange for your little friend to have another accident.”
“It was you! You tried to kill Becca.”
Once again, Sybila touched him and he recoiled as if from a serpent, which at this moment, she resembled. “If you want to keep Becca unhurt, or alive, you’ll marry me.” Her gaze drifted over his lower body. “And you’ll share my bed. Willingly.”
Sickened, he realised the best way to protect Becca was to pretend agreement until he could resolve this. Sybila was mad. Totally insane. And probably Julia, too. Greed had turned both their minds. And his life had become even more complex.
“Fine. We’ll be married. I’ll never see Becca again.”
He’d say anything to placate the bitch standing before him. “I’ll tell her I don’t want her.” Swallowing his pride, he begged, hoping to gain some time. “Just leave Becca alone. Promise me.”
Julia spoke from the main doorway. She relocked the door she’d just entered through and pocketed the key. “Such touching devotion to your little mistress.” She smiled with evil intent. “And felicitations on your betrothal to Sybila. This time, I’ll not even need to inform other guests that I surprised you on a desk. Or that you were trying to toss my skirts, Cayle.”
“You bitch, Julia. Both of you. You’re both as mad as each other.”
Julia threw back her head and laughed. “Just for that, Cayle, you shall beg us to spare her life.”
• • •
Becca quivered with rage on the other side of the smaller door. She’d heard enough. Not waiting for Laura, she swung open the door and strode into the room. For a moment, her arrival stunned the two women but she faced them without fear. Her work involved dealing with the best and worst of humanity giving Becca a new pride in who she was and what she’d become. Jamison women were, after all, renowned for forthrightness and unafraid to admit it. Julia and Sybila, convinced of their triumphant outcome, recovered with such ease that Becca was staggered to realise she faced two of the most devious women she’d ever encountered.
“Cayle, remember, you’re the Duke of Sherwyn. Don’t humble yourself before these two traitors. Especially not for me.”
She saw the tension leave Cayle’s body and he stepped towards her, smiling, hand outstretched.
“We’ve proof they tried to kill me,” Becca said. “They’ll not compromise you into a forced marriage. I heard it all.”
Julia threw back her head to howl her derision, a mad, hysterical note to it. “Oh, you foolish child. After I devastate your reputation, your word will be worthless. I am the Duchess of Sherwyn. You are nobody and there are no other witnesses. When the St. Martin ships dock from the east, our family will be rich again and I will be compensated for all these wretched years.”
“I’ll not let you do that, Julia,” Cayle said.
Julia spun towards Cayle with wild eyes. “No! I was forced to suffer the attentions of your father for years. Because of you, I was exiled to rot in the country like an unmanageable child. With Sybila’s help, I will now have my revenge by squeezing every penny from you and the estate.”
Cayle stood before his stepmother and let her see the determination in his face.
“I’ve heard enough of your boasts and idle threats,” he said in a calm voice. “You’ll not make paupers of the St. Martin men ever again.”
He turned his icy gaze on Sybila who appeared aware now that this wasn’t going to her plan. She looked frozen, unable to decide if she should flee or stay to support Julia, her fellow conspirator.
“Sybila, I’m giving you a chance because you’re Becca’s cousin. Leave this room without fuss, and retain your dignity. Otherwise, I’ll reveal to the authorities how you thought to use me to relieve you of an unwanted husband.”
Julia’s cackle of laughter sounded even more frenzied. “Once again, Cayle, you’ve no witnesses, no proof. At any minute, Sybila’s mother will arrive to feign disbelief at finding her daughter discomfited by your attentions. A peer of the realm dishonouring her.”
Several people streamed into the room through the main library door, their very presence disclaiming her statement.
Julia stuttered in agitation, “But I … I locked that door.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the key and stared at it with disbelief.
The group of new arrivals grinned, enjoying the chaos their entrance created.
Laura held up a piece of twisted wire. “But Julia, the ridiculous Jamison sisters, as you’ve repeatedly labelled us, are all able to pick locks.”
Lined up beside cheeky Laura, Brian and Anthony were frankly admiring of such a matchless skill from such an extraordinary woman. Winchester looked ready to worship at the feet of anyone capable of besting scheming Sybila. Lottie looked as complacent as if housebreaking was part of her daily routine, and Aunt Agatha as contented as if partaking of tea in a duchess’s drawing room.
Both Julia and Sybila were beside themselves. Sybila almost frothed at the mouth, as she demanded, “Where’s my mother?”
Lottie answered with a disarmingly sweet smile, “I fear Lady Townsend is slightly indisposed. In the downstairs water closet.”
Sybila screeched, “You locked my mother in a water closet?”
Lottie shrugged nonchalantly. “I think the lock must be faulty. It secured itself when she stumbled into it.”
Sybila, her plans in ruin, swooned in a dead faint.
• • •
Cayle took control of the situation, giving concise and quiet orders to Winchester to dispatch Sybila to a footman’s care before her absence was noticed. Fortunately, her mother had been freed from her prison and she rushed headlong into the furore. With a scream, she fell to her knees beside her prostrate daughter.
“Julia,” Cayle said, ignoring the two women on the floor. “You’ll return to London only to pack enough to take with you to travel. As long as you go to the continent and don’t return, I’ll pay you a stipend each month. Take your current lover, whoever he may be, with you, or not. I don’t give a damn. Just stay away from this family.”
Julia was frantic when she realised he meant every word. “We had an agreement.” Her screech more resembled the tones of a fishwife than a duchess.
“You promised to remain scandal free for three months.” She glared at Becca. “You’ve been bedding this whore.”
Becca blanched under the force of Julia’s vitriol.
Cayle stood firm. “I nearly gave up everything I cherish, everything that makes me happy,” his glance met Becca’s, “in order to honour the ridiculous agreement I made with you. We made a pact to bring honour back to the family name. Yet, you had no intention of maintaining your half of the bargain.”
“You were seen bed hopping with this little slut.”
Cayle took a menacing step towards his stepmother and addressed her in a quiet voice. “Be very careful, Julia. I have a room full of my peers to bear witness that the grief of losing your husband has unbalanced you. Bedlam’s a cold and miserable place for someone accustomed to every luxury.”
Julia was infuriated, unable to control herself even through Cayle’s threats. “You wouldn’t dare. I had the St. Martin family under my control before you returned and I will again. Mark my words, we’re not finished.”
“Ah, but there you’re wrong. You’re dependent on whoever pulls the purse strings and I’m that person. My father realised your gambling was out of control and cut you off from all access to money. I’m merely following his dictates.”
“I’ll employ a solicitor to fight you for what you owe me.”
“On the contrary, your treachery has been exposed tonight, Julia. My solicitor will draw up papers in the event that in the future you’re again without funds and view one of us an easy target.” He narrowed his gaze at his stepmother who quivered with her first sign of fear. “My brothers and I are now free of any obligation to you.”
Brian looked relieved as he offered. “I’ll be happy to escort our stepmother to collect her belongings.”
Tony looked just as delighted to be rid of Julia. “And I’ll arrange her carriage.”
• • •
When Laura and Lottie made ready for a discreet departure from the room and a return to the ballroom, Cayle took Becca’s hand to keep her with him. Aunt Agatha stopped on her way out to inform Lady Townsend that her poor daughter suffered from a serious nervous disposition. Patting her contemporary’s hand in a comforting manner, she suggested, “Dear, dear, Joan. Sybila would fare far better if she retired to fresher country air for a long rest.”
“You may not order us to do anything, Agatha,” Joan said in her haughtiest manner. “You forget — I too am an aunt to these girls.”
Aunt Agatha’s smile was bland as she patted Joan’s hand once more and spoke as her greatest confidante. “My dear, dear friend, I heard it whispered that you admitted not one, but two, footmen to your bedchamber. How devastating if your Presbyterian husband, a supporter of strict morality, caught wind of such untoward behaviour.”
Aunt Agatha’s unwavering look withered Lady Townsend and ignoring Sybila’s complaints, she hauled her daughter to her feet. The pair hurried away to make excuses for their abrupt departure.
Becca, Laura, and Lottie paid amused homage to their aunt’s tactics. “You were wonderful,” Becca told their aunt.
“Did anyone witness footmen entering Aunt Joan’s chamber?”
Aunt Agatha chuckled. “Joan has been entertaining footmen in her bed since her seventeenth birthday. I’d no reason to assume things had changed in recent years.”
“She’ll be too timid to ever visit our house again.”
• • •
With Winchester paying homage to the Jamison women and still awestruck at Laura’s lock picking skills, the group walked to rejoin the ball. Cayle took Becca’s arm, drawing her back into the empty library and gathered her into his arms, pressing her close to his heart. “Thank you, sweetheart, for rescuing me from such a close call. You, and your entire family, are miraculous.”
“I couldn’t let Julia reduce you to begging because of me.”
Lost in their embrace, the verandah’s French doors opened before clapping startled them. “What a touching scene, my dears.”
Leaning against the doorjamb and looking very relaxed, Mitchell laughed. “Better than a theatre evening.” He signalled to the viscount, his constant companion, who lifted his pistol and pointed it at Becca.
“Take her to the carriage,” Mitchell ordered. “Tie her up with that snivelling Bennett.”
Not hesitating, Cayle stepped in front of Becca and pulled her behind him. “You’ll not touch her.”
Using his body, he shielded Becca from the gun but she dodged his arm, defiantly stepping forward once more.
“Melrose, please,” Becca said, a pleading hand held out to the viscount. “You don’t want to do this. You’re not a criminal like those other men.” The young man blanched and the hand holding the gun shook. “Put the gun down. We’ll speak about your problems. I can help with your debts.”
“Mitchell, why, why must we abduct Lady Rebecca?” The viscount’s hands trembled so badly he needed both hands to grip the pistol butt. “She’s a lady.”
“Because, you dimwitted fool, she’s no mere woman. It’s taken me until now to discover that she’s the brilliance behind their prosperity.”
“A woman?” The viscount gaped at Becca who’d been pulled back out of the line of fire by an irate Cayle. “I … I understood it was her brother.”
“No. After some wine, rather a lot of wine, Bennett disclosed that this woman isn’t just a bluestocking, but a mathematical marvel. I’m taking her to meet her brother.”
Cayle thrust Becca behind his back and squared off with the baron, ignoring the viscount’s gun wavering close to his side. “You’re not taking her anywhere.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong, Sherywn. You see we have the guns and the brawn.”
The baron indicated the doorway behind them and they spun around to discover four burly men blocking the way, thwarting Cayle’s plans of escape. Each carried a weapon.
“I’ll barter the lady’s journals, and her calculations, for her life. Then, in exchange for not killing her brother — ”
The viscount gasped and fell to his knees, hands raised in an imploring gesture. “No, Mitchell, no. Don’t do this. I’ll not be involved in murder.”
The baron threw back his head and laughed. “She’ll write down in detail everything I need to purchase, and when. I’m going to be rich, rich beyond my wildest dreams.”
“Mitchell,” Cayle said. “Let’s settle this between ourselves, like gentlemen. I’ll give you money. Whatever you need.”