Scandal's Reward (11 page)

“Mary, I want you to tell me: what did Charles de Dagonet want from you the night of the ball, and why did you refuse him?”

Mary looked uncomfortably at her hands. “I can’t rightly say, ma’am.”

“Was it about your poor sister?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Was she is love with him?”

Mary looked straight at Catherine and dimpled. “Oh, yes, Miss Hunter, we all was. He’s still a dreadful handsome gentleman.”

Catherine smiled. “Mary! And you a married woman!”

Mary grinned and shook her head. “He wanted me to tell him what I knew of what happened, ma’am, when Milly was drowned. And if I still had any of her things.”

“And do you?” Mary nodded. “Then why wouldn’t you speak to Mr. de Dagonet and explain that to him?”

“Because all I have is a letter he wrote to her. I keep it hid. No one but me’s ever seen it. Sir George asked me once if I knew anything about Milly’s death that I hadn’t told, but I kept mum. He forbid me to speak to Mr. de Dagonet anyway, on pain of dismissal.”

“But if you had a letter, wasn’t it your duty to show it to Sir Henry Montagu at the time?”

“I couldn’t do that, ma’am, for it would have hanged Master Charles then and there.”

“How could you protect him, Mary, after what happened to your sister?”

Mary’s round face looked as stubborn as a child’s. “Milly wasn’t any better than she should have been, ma’am. It wouldn’t have served no purpose to make things worse for Master Dagonet.”

“Tell me the whole, Milly. I would like to help Mr. de Dagonet, too.”

“I wasn’t really in Milly’s confidences, ma’am. She was a right pretty little thing, but she was younger than me and kept herself apart from the rest of us. Peter Higgins was real sweet on her; he followed her like a puppy wherever she went, but she wouldn’t have no truck with him. She said she was destined for better things than to marry the gardener’s lad. I can see her now toss her head in the kitchen and say she had a gentleman who was going to take care of her. I didn’t think she would have drowned herself, not our Milly.”

“How was she found?”

“John Catchpole, ma’am, the stable man, found her floating in the lake. He found Devil Dagonet, too, passed out cold from drink in the woods by the path, the bottle still in his hand. I remember the day they were both carried up to the house. John Catchpole was paid off afterward and went away. Sir Henry wouldn’t keep him on. Poor Peter Higgins ran off, too. He was just a lad really. I dare say it broke his heart. Anyway, they were both gone from Lion Court before Master Dagonet was out of bed. He was sick as a dog for a few days and still white as a sheet when he had to face Lord Somerdale. They threw him out of the house, but none of it would bring our Milly back.”

So two innocent servants had lost their positions, too, because of Charles de Dagonet. John Catchpole and Peter Higgins. Catherine wondered what on earth had become of them. It took another several minutes before she could persuade Mary to bring her the note.

The evidence was damning indeed. ‘Dear Milly,’ it read. ‘If you are in so much trouble, meet me tonight by the Rye Water Lake and I’ll see what I can do about it. You’re too pretty a miss to be crying your eyes out in the stables. Dagonet.’

The handwriting flowed strong and confident across the paper. It was identical to that she had seen in his room, creating music for sonnets by Shakespeare.

“So he had arranged to meet her that night! Oh, Mary, she was your sister. Didn’t you want revenge?”

“Revenge, ma’am? It was as much Milly’s fault as his, I dare say. I wouldn’t have wanted to be the one to send Master Charles to the gallows. He was too fine of a lad for that.”

“Then why on earth did you keep the note?”

“Because he wrote it! There, I’ve said too much already. I never should have kept it.” And with a sudden gesture, the housemaid threw the letter onto the fire.

Catherine wanted to weep. She had hoped so much to find that Mary had something that proved Devil Dagonet innocent of Millicent Trumble’s death. He, instead, had known that the maid had something incriminating and had been determined to wrest it from her. There had been no need for his concern; Mary was still so besotted with a girlish infatuation for him, she had suppressed evidence of his guilt, and now destroyed it.

Dagonet was an out-and-out rogue. He would use anyone for his nefarious purposes and never look back. Is that why he had been so charming with her? Why he had kissed her? So that she would also shield and protect him, while he rifled the house and made Mary give up the letter? Women were only too easy a prey for a rake like him. She blushed as she recalled the strange, wonderful sensations she had felt. What if he had kissed her again?

She, too, sensible Catherine Hunter, had very nearly come under the spell.

Captain David Morris had returned from the ball and walked whistling into his study at Stagshead. He was faintly inebriated, just a little tired, and very happy. For him and Amelia, the bumbling neighbors with their country manners, the unsubtle flatteries of Sir George Montagu, and the odd remarks of his sister, Charlotte, had never existed. He and Amelia had danced oblivious to their surroundings. That they had spent the evening entirely together was quite unexceptionable. They were to marry in just under a week.

Morris stopped, however, quite suddenly, when he saw his friend awaiting him in front of the fireplace, dressed carelessly in buckskin breeches and dusty boots.

“What, Charles? Have you been out?”

Dagonet gazed at him for a moment and smiled. “Congratulations on your happiness, my friend. You have spent the evening in the arms of your beloved, inviting nothing but the fond and sentimental best wishes of the parish. You have my felicitations.”

Morris colored just a little. “Of course I spent the evening with her. If you knew what it was to be in love with a fine young lady like Amelia Hunter, you wouldn’t be so damned impertinent.”

“Ah, my dear Captain! That is a state that is never to be my lot, is it? It’s the great advantage of being a notorious rake, you know. One’s grosser emotions will never be mistaken for anything so fine or delicate as love. The lightskirts will flock to your side, so you never have to endure the innocent embraces of the virginal daughters of good family. Marriage is out of the question, and you’d be a scoundrel to engage the affections of a decent woman, let alone return them. It’s the most enviable position.”

Morris threw himself into a chair and released the knots in his cravat. Dagonet should not destroy his mood, damn him!

“Pour yourself a drink, for God’s sake, Dagonet,” he said. “You’re too dashed odd for words. What has happened, anyway?”

“Everything has happened, my dear Captain. And nothing that brandy will heal.”

His tone was still light and bantering, but Morris realized that his friend was controlling himself with a certain amount of effort. Dagonet began to stride back and forth before the fire.

“You went to Lion Court, didn’t you? What the devil do you expect to find there, old fellow? Can’t the past lie forgotten?”

Dagonet whirled around. His green eyes blazed like fire. “I carry the past like the Old Man of the Sea. It awakes me at night like a succubus. Those last days at Lion Court haunt me day and night, and not because I can’t forget, but because I can’t remember! All I know is that a silly girl was drowned in the lake and I was found stinking drunk in the woods. But I don’t even know who discovered me, and I don’t know why I was there in the first place. Millicent Trumble was nothing to me. It is a void as great as the mouth of hell. Did I kill her? There is no reason why I should have, but try living with that question, my friend. My uncle and grandfather obviously believed that I did, but no one would tell me their reasons. Who has the answers? No one outside of Lion Court, and few inside it. My uncle is dead. George, then? If he knew, I am the last person he would tell. Most of the servants knew nothing of it at the time. Only Mary, the girl’s sister, is left. She might know something and she won’t talk to me.”

“So you saw her at last? How did you get in? The place was crawling with servants for the ball.”

“I crept in over the roof, like the renegade that I am. It was no trouble to corner Mary in the hall behind the pantry, but my famous charm was useless. If she could have helped me, I believe she would, but she only blushed and mumbled. My pursuit of her confidences has thus been in vain. Maybe she has nothing to tell? Then I am condemned to never learn the truth.”

“You could have made her talk, Dagonet. You know it.”

“Yet I would not.” He relaxed suddenly and smiled, yet the green eyes were empty of mirth. “Miss Hunter will talk to her for me, I fear.”

“You’re a damned rogue, sir!”

“More than you know, Captain, but I am the victim of my latest trap.” Dagonet threw back his dark head and laughed. “No more of my maudlin troubles! Let me get that damned brandy.”

* * * *

Each morning that week found Amelia once again at Stagshead. She and David sat together on the small couch in the music room, talking over every dance, every moment that they had shared at Lion Court. She felt transported with bliss. Today, Captain Morris had her hand in his and was gently playing with her fingers as they conversed.

At the harpsichord sat her usual chaperone, little Annabella. Amelia was far too correct to sit alone with David, even if they were almost man and wife. Annie, however, made no objection at all to these frequent visits. She was engaged this time in playing hilarious duets with the object of her latest infatuation, Devil Dagonet. It had not been difficult to keep her word, and not tell even Mama that the famous prodigal was staying with Captain Morris, since it was so much fun to be with him, and if Mama found out she might put a stop to it.

“No, no!” Annabella squealed. “It doesn’t go like that. It goes like this!” Her short fingers plopped out the tune.

“Does it?” Dagonet said, as seriously as if he were addressing a duchess. “How odd! I thought my part went like this.” And he played the first few lines of an old song that sent Annie into peals of laughter.

They were all thus entirely engrossed when Catherine arrived at the French window. She had walked all the way down from Lion Court in a stiff breeze, so that her face felt flushed and tendrils of hair blew annoyingly around her face. She had gone over and over in her mind everything she knew about Charles de Dagonet. It wasn’t too hard to guess where he might be staying. Who else had also spent years in the Peninsular Campaign? With whom else had he been on such easy terms as he rescued Farmer Westcott’s prize flock? Only Captain David Morris!

An instant before she appeared, Dagonet must have heard her boots on the gravel walk. He stopped playing with a soft word to Annie, and walked over to face her. His features remained a perfect mask, but Annabella leapt gaily from the stool and ran up to her favorite sister.

“Cathy! It was to be a secret, even from you, but now you’ve found out. This is Devil Dagonet and he’s my very best friend in the world.”

Amelia had shown the grace to blush scarlet, though there was no real reason why she should, and Captain Morris, with only a trace of awkwardness, began to ask Catherine to come in. They were interrupted by Dagonet.

His tones were perfectly modulated, with just the merest hint of amusement. “Alas, discovered again! Miss Hunter has come to see me, my friend. Let me take her for a turn in the garden.”

Before any of them could object, he had seized Catherine by the arm, thrust her onto the terrace, and closed the door behind them.

“The shrubbery is splendid this time of year, ma’am. May I show you the finest of Captain Morris’s rhododendrons?”

“Let go of me! How can you! The flowers have been over for months.”

Undeterred, he propelled her away from the house. When they reached the thickest part of the plantation, he spun her to face him.

“Now, Kate dear, tell me why you hate me so much.”

“How can you ask? Destruction runs before you like a pack of hounds, doesn’t it, sir? You will use and toss away anyone in your path, if it suits your own purposes. It must have seemed a fine joke to enlist me for your cause. And how can you involve Annie and Amelia in your deceptions? I do despise you, Mr. de Dagonet, but I would not give you the honor of such a strong emotion as hate.”

Dagonet released her, and she began to pace up and down the gravel path. Quietly watching her, he leant casually against the trunk of a great beech tree. She knew that he had himself under an iron control, but she wasn’t sure if she cared.

“Mary has told all and I am condemned?” His expression was totally unreadable, but his tone was light. “Your face is an open book, Kate. Deception is impossible for you, isn’t it?”

“As it is natural for you? What do even your kisses mean? A fleeting amusement for a Casanova to practice your seductions on the daughter of a country vicar? You began with a fifteen-year-old maidservant in your own home. How many women have you left with broken hearts over the intervening years?”

“I have been completely ruthless, of course.”

The sun danced in his dark hair as the wind tossed it over his forehead, but the green eyes were deeply shadowed.

“Ruthless enough to have me do your work for you with Mary? Why didn’t you bully or beguile her yourself? She would still have protected you forever. She did show me the note, but don’t worry about it anymore, sir. She has destroyed it.”

“What note? I am in the dark, sweet Kate.”

“The one you wrote Millicent Trumble the day she was drowned. The note inviting her to meet you beside Lion Court Lake.”

And at last Catherine had the satisfaction of seeing him turn stark white beneath his tan. It was a moment before he spoke again, but his voice betrayed nothing but an idle curiosity.

“What other charming revelations did she make to you?”

“Nothing that you cannot know yourself, Mr. de Dagonet. The bottle was still in your hand, I understand, when John Catchpole found you in the woods. It must have been a dreadful day for him. Your uncle paid him off the same week and an innocent servant had to make a new way in the world.”