Truth about Leo (27 page)

“Yes,” he said, kissing her, both of them oblivious to the hissing and screaming Julia as Nick, Harry, and Dalton hauled her from the room. “We'll try it tonight. Or later this morning. Or perhaps in five minutes if you keep looking at me like that.”

She laughed and kissed the side of his mouth. “You do know you're going to have to explain how you knew that Julia was mad.”

A little pinch of sadness marred the perfect moment, but he simply gave her a pat on her delicious ass and said, “I didn't think you'd let me off that easily. Oh, hell, she's loose again. If you will excuse me, my darling?”

“Go and catch her,” Dagmar said, releasing her hold on him. “But be gentle, Leo. She's obviously not quite right in the head.”

Leo had a feeling that truer words had never been spoken.

“The choice is yours. I can make long, vigorous, and inventive—if you wish for me to look at that book Plum gave you—love to you, or I can answer your questions.”

Leo stood in the doorway to the bedroom that Plum had given them, having first exacted promises that they would only visit that room and no others on the floor, lest they encounter infected children or servants.

“And even then,” Plum had said at the time, plumping up a pillow absently as she glanced around the room, “I have dire suspicions that you'll come down with the chicken pox, so I've made sure that there are marigolds next to your bed and sandalwood oil at hand. Just rub it on your exposed surfaces.”

Dagmar had been confused by such orders. “Will it keep us from becoming infected?”

“I assume so. The doctor has us rubbing the oil on the children's rashes, and marigolds are said to be a good protection against such things. It certainly can't hurt!”

There wasn't much she could say to that, so she promised Plum that they wouldn't so much as touch any other door on that floor, and unpacked her meager belongings.

An hour after that, the sun had risen, and she was tucked into bed, exhausted from the night's activities but not wishing to go to sleep without Leo. As if summoned by her thoughts, the door opened and Leo entered, looking just as tired but so incredibly wonderful that Dagmar flung back the bed linens and was halfway out of the bed before she realize that she couldn't just leap on him.

“You waited up for me?” Leo looked surprised. “You should have gone to sleep.”

“Of course I waited for you. For one, I wish to hear what happened to Julia, but also, I wish to seduce you again, and I can't do that if I'm asleep.”

That's when Leo gave her the choice: lovemaking or answers to her questions.

“Could you not answer my questions while I seduce you?” she asked hopefully, sitting on her heels while he began to disrobe. She very much liked watching him do so. There was an elegance about him, a grace despite the stifled movements of his wounded shoulder that never failed to send little shivers of delight down her back.

He stood on one leg while pulling off a boot, giving her a long look. “My darling wife, the second you touch me, all thoughts but what I'd like to do to your soft, silken flesh leave my mind. The answer is no, I would not be able to tell you what happened and make love to you. I'm lucky my brain works at all when you are unclothed. Speaking of which, what is that monstrosity you are wearing?”

She looked down at the linen night rail. “It's the same one I've worn every night, Leo. I don't see what you find so monstrous about it now.”

“The monstrous part is that you haven't taken it off yet, and you did so on other nights. Do so promptly, please.”

She started to remove the night rail, but deep knowledge of herself had her hesitating then retying the ribbon at the neck before sliding off the bed to pad over to one of the two chairs before the fire. “You're right, I don't think we can combine answers with connubial experiences. You'd better answer my questions first, then I will be a princess in a balcony, and you can be a jouster with a couched lance, and we will both enjoy ourselves so well that we'll forget how to speak.”

“Agreed,” Leo said, stripping off his clothes.

Dagmar stared. Merciful heavens, he was a fine, fine man. And he was hers! All hers. No other woman could have him. Until the end of her days, he would be available for her to seduce and try out things from Plum's book and make hoarse with shouting out her name while he climaxed. That thought filled her with great satisfaction and no little amount of sexual anticipation.

“Fair warning my equally fair damsel: if you continue to stare at me in that manner, I won't be able to stop from scooping you up and taking you over to that bed where I will acquaint you with a few connubial calisthenics of my own design.”

She reached out and wrapped one hand around his penis, while caressing his testicles with the other.

Leo made a gargled noise.

“It really is such a strange body part. So hot and hard, yet the skin covering it is very smooth and silky, and slides delightfully. Do you enjoy the sliding, Leo? I much enjoy it. Look, I can do this with that bit right there.”

Leo sucked in a vast quantity of air, probably half of what was available in the room. “Yes,” he said in a strained voice that had an odd squeaking tone to it. “Yes, I enjoy the sliding.”

“I'm so pleased to know that. Now, about Julia—oh, are you sensitive there? My apologies—you suspected her, didn't you? I can tell you did because you weren't at all surprised when Mr. Dalton accused her of being the woman he was looking for.”

“Dagmar.”

“Hmm?”

“You're holding my balls.”

“Yes, I know. They're very soft and warm too, although not at all hard.” She gave them a friendly little squeeze, not enough to hurt, but enough to let them know she approved of them. “I think they're rather charming, although I still feel that they must get in your way at times. How do you sit in a saddle without them being squished?”

“Very carefully. If you don't release me in the next two seconds, I will strip that repugnant garment from your delightfully wanton body and allow my lustful plans free rein, and I can assure you that I have many, many lustful plans.”

Dagmar weighed her desire to indulge his lustful plans with her need for answers and decided that as much as she wanted to seduce Leo—and by turn, allow him to seduce her—she really did want to know how it was that Julia could be the person that Leo thought she was.

She released his testicles and gave a fond pat to his penis before sitting in the chair opposite. “Very well, we shall delay my seduction of you until after you have explained how Julia can be someone that I'm quite sure she isn't.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Really?” Dagmar thought for a moment. “There are times when I am convinced that English is the most awkward language ever. What I meant is that I don't understand how Julia can be an evil woman when she's been Mama's companion—and then mine—for as long as I can recall.”

Leo took a deep breath but managed to bring his obviously rampant desires under control. He sat in the chair opposite her. “I will never understand how your mind works,” he told her.

“Good. Proceed.”

Leo sat, looking perfectly at ease despite the fact that he was naked and very erect in the genital department. “Where do you wish me to start?”

“Philip Dalton. He wanted Julia blamed for Louisa's death, but how did he make us think it happened when it really didn't?”

“The key, as I mentioned earlier, was the way he separated us from Louisa and kept us away from her supposed corpse. I don't know if he investigated the Roman remains the day before we visited it, but I suspect he did. He knew you would be drawn to the bodies, and no doubt realized that it offered a perfect stage to perform his drama. Louisa was left with your companion, since neither woman wanted to see skeletons, while the rest of us were at the opposite end of the room. He managed to conveniently kick the plank aside so that we couldn't accompany him to rescue his sister. Then he covered her up so that no one could see her and insisted that I get you away from the scene before we could examine the body. I am in little doubt that the doctor we were sent to find had either no chance to see Louisa's body or his silence was bought.”

“That was very clever of Mr. Dalton,” Dagmar said thoughtfully, remembering the scene. It all fit. “You know, I think they knew who Julia was from the very start. There's no other way to explain why Louisa took such a dislike to her from the very start, and the claims of dreams and of being attacked could be manufactured. Oh!”

“Oh?”

Insight flooded her. “The salt! I know what was wrong with it. Louisa claimed that morning that Julia had written a threatening note to her and included a bit of salt inside the letter, but there was no salt on the paper. None whatsoever, and you know that at least a few grains would have remained clinging to the paper.”

Leo nodded. “I didn't think of that, but you're absolutely right.”

“So all the rest of Louisa's claims about Julia—”

“Manufactured to set the scene wherein we'd believe that Julia had a grudge against her.”

“It's so cold-blooded.” Dagmar thought for a moment. “And Julia setting her cap at Philip Dalton?”

“You know her better than I do. Is that something she would do?”

Dagmar found it painful to consider her friend with such suspicion, but she couldn't help but feeling it likely. “Perhaps. If she truly is the person you say she is, then perhaps she thought she could engage his affections in order to better her station, although I'm not convinced, Leo.”

“I know you're not. I think, however, once you hear what I have to say, you may change your mind.”

“Very well.” Dagmar sat back, her hands clasped together. “We have dispensed with Philip Dalton and can now turn our attention to Julia. When was it that you came to suspect that my Julia was Margaret Prothero?”

“A few days ago. It just seemed to make sense.”

“Not even in the least little bit does it make sense,” Dagmar argued. “She isn't at all the sort of person to kill someone.”

“What proof do you have of that?” Leo asked her.

She frowned. “What proof do I have? I've known her for most of my life.”

“It's not inconceivable that she normally has a very placid nature, but one that can turn deadly given the right circumstances.” He took another deep breath and leaned forward to take her hand. “I regret having to tell you this because I know it will cause you pain, but you deserve to know the truth. I spoke with Julia Deworthy at the gaol and told her I was sending off for her marriage records. She knew what I'd find, and at last admitted that she was Margaret Julia Prothero. She claims that she had no hand in the death of young Hayes, that it was all her cousin's doing, and she was merely a bystander, but I doubt she is speaking the truth.”

“I don't know what to say, Leo. It's all so shocking. Are you sure she was not suddenly deranged and making it up?” Dagmar tried to readjust the mental image of an old friend who was in truth a stranger.

“She wasn't deranged, not in the sense you mean.” Leo's fingers stroked hers with a gentleness that touched her. “I know it is hard for you to understand how a trusted friend can have such a dark secret, but it does not tarnish the affection she holds for you.”

He stopped, but Dagmar couldn't leave the obvious unsaid. “That affection only goes so far, though, doesn't it? She didn't let it stand in her way when she felt threatened by you.”

“No, but that has no bearing on all the good years you had together.”

Dagmar curled her fingers around his. “It's so difficult to believe that someone I grew up with could be such a monster.”

“I don't think she ever meant you any harm, if that makes you feel better. She clearly was beholden to you not only for her livelihood, but also as a way to hide from her past identity. No one would think twice about the companion of a princess, after all.”

“No.” Dagmar stared at their hands for a moment, marveling at the strength of Leo's fingers. “Did she say what happened to Louisa's son?”

“A little. She claims that he forced himself on her cousin and then turned his attentions to her. While he was attempting to assault her, her cousin struck him down, apparently with more force than she realized. She says she had nothing to do with the attack other than to conceal what had been done.”

Dagmar looked into his eyes and saw the truth in them. “You don't believe that, do you?”

“No.” His fingers tightened on hers. “There are several things wrong with her story. For one, her description of the attack doesn't fit what Dalton and Mrs. Hayes said of the boy. Julia claimed he was drunk and lascivious, and yet he was evidently a gentle, pious young man with a dislike of drink and an abhorrence of violence.”

“Pious young men have been known to force themselves on women before,” Dagmar pointed out.

“Agreed, but in this case, there's another fact that effectively eliminates the possibility. Young Hayes had suffered an injury when he was a boy. He was incapable of sexual activity.”

“Incapable? He couldn't…not any of it?”

“No. He was gored by a bull when he was a young lad, and the resulting operation ended up leaving him more or less a eunuch. It's one reason why the Hayes family went abroad and stayed there.”

“But if he wasn't attempting to rape them, why kill him?”

Leo scratched his chest, distracting her for a moment. She really did love his chest, even scarred. “She won't admit that he didn't attack them because it would damn her beyond all hope of freedom, but I suspect that she and her cousin had hoped to compromise the young man in a blackmail attempt. They'd simply claim he had attempted to rape them both, and his parents would pay to hush up the scandal. They hadn't counted on the fact that he was physically incapable of assaulting them, and I imagine that while attempting to coerce him into that act, he struggled, and most likely fell back against an object that sufficiently wounded him as to leave him near death.”

“If it was an accident, why didn't Julia just say that?”

“Because she wanted the blame thrown onto her cousin. To admit that he fell while struggling with them means they are both guilty. Your companion is trying very hard to disassociate herself from any wrongdoing.”

“That's quite a bit of supposition,” Dagmar said quietly, overwhelmed with sadness for the loss of an innocent young man, as well as her own belief in her friend.

“It is, and I will do everything I can to aid Dalton in uncovering more proof of exactly what happened that night, but given her attacks against Dalton, you, and me, I believe her guilt is established sufficiently to keep her in gaol.”