The Black Widow (24 page)

He did not need to remind her that her birthday was less than a fortnight away, and that if they waited for the banns to be called on three successive Sundays, Hester would automatically succeed with her wicked scheme and inherit a fortune by foul means.

“You are planning a trap for my sister, are you not?” Meribe inquired, although she knew what the answer had to be.

“I wish there were some other way,” Demetrius said. “We will do our best to prevent a scandal. And let me reassure you that it is not my intention to send her to prison. If we can catch her in the act of ... of attempting something, we do not plan to turn her over to the magistrate. If she is willing to cooperate, we will pay for her ticket to Canada or the West Indies, and we can arrange for her to be paid a quarterly stipend conditional upon her staying out of England.’’

“Thank you,” Meribe said, feeling very sad at the thought of never seeing her sister again. And feeling even sadder when she considered what the future would hold for Hester, alone in a strange country. But perhaps in the Americas Hester might also find a man who would love her, and perhaps she might, over the years, become less bitter.

Thinking about bitterness reminded Meribe of her future mother-in-law. “And what of your mother? I know she does not approve of me.”

“My mother has made so many threats and vows about what she will and will not do that she has quite talked herself into a corner,” Demetrius said with a smile. “With a little encouragement from Collier, she has decided that she needs to go to Bath and take the waters. He will be joining us after he escorts her there and sees to it that she is comfortably settled in.”

“I am sorry to come between you and your mother,” Meribe said.

“Do not be. We have never been close, and she is always getting in a miff about something or other that I have done—or that she imagines I have done—that does not please her. When it suits her, she will come about. More than likely, as soon as you produce a grandchild for her to dote on, she will fall on your neck and proclaim you the most perfect daughter-in-law in all of England—that is, so long as you allow her to dictate to you every aspect of the babe’s care. In addition, when you get to know my mother better, you will discover that she has a very flexible memory, and once she is a grandmother, she will deny under oath that she ever uttered the slightest word of censure against you. And she will believe every word of it.”

Meribe could feel her cheeks getting hot at the thought of bearing Demetrius’s child, and she tried to hide her face against his chest, but instead he tipped her chin up, grinned down at her, and kissed her gently.

“Do you have any more worries you need to discuss?”

She shook her head.

“Then let us go in and inform the others of our plans,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand to her. Without hesitation, she grasped it, wishing she never had to release it again. Wishing ... wishing they were already married and he was leading her to their bed. Looking up into his eyes, she rather suspected his thoughts were following the same path hers were. In a word, he looked every bit as frustrated as she was feeling.

* * * *

After changing her dress and having Jane arrange her hair, Meribe joined Demetrius in the drawing room. She was not best pleased to discover that Lionell Rudd had also come to call. Although she knew she should be grateful to him for not abandoning her sister during these last several years when the other gentlemen had stayed away in droves, Meribe had never quite managed to feel at ease around the dandy. Too often it seemed to her that she could hear more true maliciousness in his comments than in the cutting remarks Hester was fond of making.

“Oh, there you are at last,” Aunt Phillipa said acerbically. “Thorverton here has been telling us about the proposed expedition to Devon.”

“I hope you are agreeable,” Meribe said, taking a seat beside her sister on the settee. “I am quite determined to go, but you may come with us or stay in London as you see fit.”

Aunt Phillipa eyed her with displeasure, then turned to Demetrius. “This is all your fault, Thorverton. Before she met you, she was the most biddable young lady one could wish for. She never displayed the slightest bit of impertinence, and now she is so set on having her own way about things that I think she would argue with me if I said the sun came up in the east.”

“She may not care one way or another if you accompany us,” Demetrius said smoothly, “but I for one will be vastly disappointed if you and your elder niece do not come for a visit at Thorverton Hall.”

“Gammon,” Aunt Phillipa retorted. “You must think I have just cut my eyeteeth if you are expecting me to believe such a whisker. A man”—she invested the word with loathing—“never wants a chaperone along, no matter how he may pretend to be a gentleman. In this case, since you will doubtless encourage my niece to defy me if I refuse to jump to your bidding, I suppose we shall have to go along to Devon with you. What say you, Hester? Do you wish to express your opinion, or are you still not feeling like talking?”

Her head bowed and her hands folded in her lap, Hester said softly, “Whatever you decide to do is fine with me, dear aunt.”

Her meekness was so patently false that Meribe wanted to grab her sister and shake her and ask why—
why
had she done the terrible things it appeared she must have done?

Aunt Phillipa snorted in disgust. “Now you are become as mealy mouthed as Meribe used to be.” Turning to Demetrius, she inquired in what was for her quite a civil tone, “When are you planning to go down there, and whom else have you invited?”

“I should like to depart the day after tomorrow if that will give you time for your packing,” Demetrius replied. “And as to others, my friend Thomas Hennessey is coming with his wife, Lady Delilah. My brother will be joining us later, and”—Demetrius paused, then said with a touch of defiance in his voice—“and my uncle, Humphrey Swinton, will be accompanying us also.”

At the mention of that abhorred name, Aunt Phillipa went rigid, and everyone in the room stared at her. How would she react, Meribe wondered, to the information that her despised enemy would be included in the party?

Meribe was quite proud of her aunt. Other than a slight flaring of the nostrils, Aunt Phillipa gave no sign that she was not happy with the inclusion of the infamous Mr. Swinton.

“I suppose we shall have to include you also, Mr. Rudd, so that Hester will have a dinner partner,” Aunt Phillipa said with a grimace. “And now, if you will all excuse me, I feel a headache coming on.” So saying, she rose to her feet and with her head held high sailed majestically out of the room.

Meribe breathed a sigh of relief that it had all gone so easily, but before she could comment on her aunt’s capitulation, Hester also rose to her feet, mumbled something about being fatigued, and likewise left the room.

For a moment there was silence, then Lionell spoke. “Do you know,” he said, eyeing Meribe and Demetrius with a smile that bordered on a leer, “I am beginning to feel quite
de trop
with the two of you smelling of April and May. I must leave you alone now in any case, for if I am to join your party, I must see about canceling my upcoming engagements. When do you wish to set out, my lord?”

“Would nine o’clock be too early for you ladies?” Demetrius asked Meribe.

She shook her head. “Quite the contrary, it would not be soon enough. My aunt firmly believes that making an early start on a trip shows great inner fortitude and strength of mind and vast moral superiority. Eight o’clock would set you up better in her esteem.”

“Almost you persuade me to change my mind about going,” Lionell said, “but I have never yet turned down an opportunity to visit one of the great country houses, and it would be a bad precedent to start now. Although”—he turned to Demetrius with a look of embarrassment—“now that I think on it, perhaps I should not have accepted without hearing the invitation from your own lips, my lord, since you are to be our host.”

“No, no, of course you must come. Hester would be quite bored without you,” Demetrius said.

At this point, it was obvious to Meribe that there was nothing else Demetrius could say if he did not wish to be appallingly rude. Which was unfortunate since Lionell was not a person with whom she wished to become better acquainted. Catching Demetrius’s eye, Meribe read his understanding of her feelings, and somehow that made it easier to be civil to the dandy when he finally, with great profusions of gratitude, took his leave.

As soon as they were alone, Demetrius stood up and moved to join her, but before he could sit down beside her, the door opened and Jane, her abigail, marched in and plopped herself down on the settee.

To be sure, it was disappointing to have such a determined chaperone, but Meribe was thankful that at least they’d had an hour or so of privacy in the garden.

Accepting the setback with good grace, Demetrius soon excused himself also, leaving Meribe to retire to her room and begin her packing. Her feet felt like dancing, and it was all she could do not to tell Jane her secret, but she remembered Demetrius’s admonition to maintain the strictest secrecy regarding their betrothal.

* * * *

While her abigail bustled about the room packing for the trip, Hester sat on a chair and gazed out the window. She did not see the little walled garden, however, because her mind was too engaged with her own problems.

No matter how she tried to come up with a solution, she found herself well and truly caught on the horns of a dilemma. On the one hand, if Lionell were doing something wicked, it was clearly her duty to warn Lord Thorverton. On the other hand, what proof had she? When all was said and done, she had nothing at all to go on except a feeling of uneasiness.

How his lordship would scoff if she told him that she suspected that Lionell Rudd, of all people, was behind the attack in Hanover Square. Lionell consort with such a ruffian as Black Jack Brannigan? It was too preposterous to be credible, and Lord Thorverton had already made it clear that he did not believe in fatal curses or any such nonsense. Doubtless he would likewise scoff at her and consider her a gullible fool if she tried to make him believe in her woman’s intuition.

And what was worse, if she were to voice her suspicions, then she would have to admit that poor old Wimbwell had, all those years ago, betrayed her father’s confidence and told her the terms of the trust. And destroying his reputation after he was gone would indeed be serving the poor old man an ill turn.

“Do you wish to take your new Egyptian brown cloak with you?” Jane interrupted her thoughts. “I have heard it can be quite windy on Dartmoor.”

Hester stared at the garment, but her mind was too preoccupied with potential assassins to consider such trivial matters as her wardrobe. “You decide,” she said finally. “I care not what I wear when I am off in the wilds of the West Country.”

“Are you sickening with something?” the abigail asked. Crossing the room, she laid her hand on Hester’s forehead, then said, “Well, at least you do not seem to be feverish. More than likely you are just burnt to the socket from all the parties and balls that you have been attending this Season. It will do you and your sister good to have a short repairing lease in the country.”

Hester forced a smile, which seemed to reassure the abigail since she returned to her task.

If only, Hester thought, someone could give me reassurance that we will find peace and quiet in Devon ... and not murder and mayhem.

Now she was being ridiculous—murder and mayhem indeed! If he had any inkling of the preposterous thoughts that were rattling around in her head, Lord Thorverton would be quite justified in thinking her completely addlepated.

With firm resolution to keep her imagination under control, Hester got up from her chair and began helping Jane sort the clothing as to which needed to be packed and which could be left behind.

Murder and mayhem—such nonsense! She had to smile at where her fancies had taken her. More than likely she had eaten something last night that did not agree with her and that had caused her irrational thoughts.

* * * *

Before they had even reached the River Colne, Meribe realized she had made a terrible mistake. Not that there had been another murderous attack on Demetrius or a suspicious accident or anything like that. So far the journey was completely uneventful.

Mr. Hennessey had borrowed his father-in-law’s coach for the journey, and since it was more luxuriously appointed than Aunt Phillipa’s, it was decided that the four ladies would ride together in it, and the luggage and assorted servants would follow in Aunt Phillipa’s coach. Demetrius, his uncle, and Mr. Hennessey were all three driving their phaetons, and with the addition of several burly grooms plus Lionell Rudd, there was truly no way Meribe could arrange to ride with Demetrius, who had explained to her the true role Malone and Mulrooney were playing.

It had required less than an hour after their departure for Meribe to become distinctly uncomfortable, despite the fact that the carriage was well-sprung and the velvet squabs were the softest she had ever been privileged to sit on. It was the company—or more precisely, the conversation—that was rapidly destroying what little peace of mind Meribe had regained after hearing that someone had tried to shoot Demetrius.

Hester was still being most strangely silent; Aunt Phillipa, as was her custom on long trips, was soon snoring softly in her corner, which left Meribe with no one to converse with except Mr. Hennessey’s wife.

To be sure, there was nothing the least bit objectionable about Lady Delilah, who despite her name did not look at all like a sultry temptress. With carroty hair, green eyes, and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose, she seemed quite approachable, and indeed she did try her best to be friendly.

Unfortunately, their conversation languished since Lady Delilah knew nothing about gardening, and had no interest in the latest gossip about the ton, but Meribe was too polite not to make some effort to put the other woman at ease.

In the end, all it took was a simple question—”How was the hunting this last season?”—and Lady Delilah began to describe in enthusiastic detail the famous runs they had had, the wily foxes they had chased, the horses she and others had ridden, the spectacular falls various members of the hunt had taken, and so forth.