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Authors: Briana James

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BOOK: What Rumours Don't Say
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“My first wife,” Reeve said. “I was told you were acquainted with her.”

The Count frowned. “That is ancient history.”

“I am currently interested in ancient history,” Reeve said, stepping forward. “Tell me, did you take her to your bed?”

“Damnation, Reeve,” he said, looking at him with a horrified expression. “Are we truly having this conversation?”

“Yes we are, Gilbert, and the sooner you tell me what I need to know, the sooner it will be over.”

“For heaven’s sake, she was a strumpet, Reeve. I merely paid for her services and availed of them.”

The words caused a lump to form in Reeve’s throat but he swallowed it, keeping his temper contained. “And this was before she became my wife?”

“Of course,” the Count of Westbury answered. “I would never bed another man’s wife.”

“Was this shortly before she became my wife?”

The Count shrugged in exasperation. “I swear I cannot remember and I have to tell you, Reeve, this conversation is making me feel insulted.”

“Making you feel insulted?” Reeve raised his voice a little. “You are telling me you slept with my wife and you feel insulted?”

“You would spare yourself the torment if you stopped making this inquiries,” the Count pointed out. “I slept with her before she was your wife and if you must know, she offered herself to me willingly.”

“Did you know that she conceived your child?”

“She what?”

“She was carrying your child.”

“Impossible,” the Count said. “I only saw her on a few occasions, not more than thrice, I believe, and never again after that. Nay, I never saw her again after that.”

Reeve simply frowned.

“Are you certain the child was mine?”

Reeve nodded solemnly. “I was informed it was.”

The Count was speechless for a moment then he gave a deep sigh as he raked his fingers through his balding hair. “I never knew.”

“She never told you?”

“No, never,” the Count said. “I swear I had no idea.”

Reeve nodded, strangely believing him.

“Please do not tell Caroline,” the Count pleaded. “If she knew, she would kill me.”

“Rest assured, my lord, I will not tell her,” Reeve said.

“Good,” the Count said. “That woman can be ruthless. I remember one of my mistresses took off after she threatened her.”

“Some women are more formidable than others,” Reeve agreed, envisioning Axelle of doing the same, though of course, he would never put her in that situation.

“Oh, you know nothing about Caroline,” he said. “She once poured boiling water on the arm of a servant because she accidentally tore a bow off one of Olivia’s gowns.”

Reeve frowned.

“I hope your current wife does not cause you any trouble,” the Count added.

“I certainly hope so,” Reeve agreed. He suddenly wondered what Axelle was doing and hoped that she and Rosalind were both well.

 

 

“Rosalind is feeling a little better now but she is yet to recover enough strength to get out of her bedchamber,” Axelle told Mrs. Chapman as she watched the older woman gather some fresh herbs. She had just arrived at the Manor an hour earlier and already, she had decided to visit Mrs. Chapman and ask her for some herbs to help make Rosalind’s recovery.

“I do have some herbs that can help her recover her strength faster,” Mrs. Chapman said.

“I would appreciate that, Mrs. Chapman, as well as perhaps a concoction to help keep her fever away or perhaps get rid of it should it return.”

Mrs. Chapman nodded. “I shall be with you shortly, my lady.”

Axelle watched Mrs. Chapman enter the house and then looked around the garden, thinking that perhaps it would be a good idea to have a garden of her own. Moments later, her thoughts were interrupted by a young woman emerging from the house, a woman who looked a great deal like Mrs. Chapman but seemed at least twenty years younger. She paused as she saw Axelle and then gave a curtsy.

“You must be the Countess of Ravenhall,” the young woman said.

“And you must be one of Mrs. Chapman’s daughters,” Axelle said.

The young woman nodded. “My name is Belinda.”

“Oh, so you are the one who works as a governess for the children of the Countess of Westbury?”

“Yes, my lady. I am the governess of the two younger daughters, Margaret and Sophie but today is my day off.”

“I see.” Axelle paused thoughtfully. “I thought Lady Caroline had three daughters.”

“Yes, my lady. Her ladyship looks after Agatha personally.”

“And the son?”

“Henry has his own tutors.”

Axelle grinned as she nodded. “I had imagined that. He is the only son and heir, after all.”

Belinda nodded.

“The Countess told me she would have had more children but she lost them,” Axelle added.

“Yes, she lost three, two before Agatha and one after Sophie.”

“Three?”

Belinda gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth. “Forgive me, my lady, I did not mean to…”

“It’s quite alright,” Axelle assured her. “I will not tell Lady Caroline you told me.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

“How long have you worked at Westbury?”

“It has been almost six years already, my lady.”

“Would you like to come work for the Ravenhall household when I have children?”

Belinda smiled. “I would love to, my lady.”

Axelle, too, smiled.

“If you will excuse me, my lady, I was on my way out to run an errand.”

“Certainly,” Axelle said. “Good day.”

“Good day, my lady.”

Axelle watched Belinda go, thinking that she was a fine young lady who would certainly make an excellent governess, though she supposed it would be years before she needed one. She could not help but think, too, about what Belinda had said about the Countess of Westbury, which, along with the things she had learned recently, caused her to suddenly have a speculation.

The more she speculated, the more she was convinced that she could be right, each thought causing a wave of excitement to surge through her. She was so wrapped up in them, in fact, that she did not notice Mrs. Chapman until the woman was right in front of her.

“My lady, these are the herbs you asked for.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Chapman.” Axelle took the jars. “And would you be kind enough to answer a few questions?”

 

 

“What was your question again?” Lady Caroline asked after sending the servant who had brought tea away.

“I was simply asking if you would like to ride with me one time?” Axelle asked.

After having obtained the answers to her questions, she had quickly made her way to the Westbury Manor, intent on confirming some of her suspicions.

“That is very kind of you, dear,” Lady Caroline said. “But I am afraid I no longer ride.”

“I am very sorry to hear that,” Axelle said. “I was told you were an excellent rider.”

Lady Caroline smiled. “I try to do well in everything.”

“You used to ride even in Ravenhall, did you not?”

“Well, the Ravenhall estate is much larger, and there are excellent trails there.”

“I agree.” Axelle feigned a smile, then took a sip from her cup.

“So you have just arrived from London?”

“Yes, I have,” Axelle said. “I was in a ball at the Viscount of Stonevale’s just a few nights ago.”

Lady Caroline snorted. “That man will take any woman to his bed. I pity Lady Amelia.”

“You would, of course, not tolerate such a behavior, would you?”

“Of course not,” Lady Caroline answered. “And neither should you.”

“Tell me, Lady Caroline.” Axelle set down her cup. “What would you do if you found out your husband had a child with a mistress or a lover?”

Lady Caroline shrugged. “I would hope that such an unfortunate thing would not happen. If it did, I fear I would lose my mind.”

“Yet you would do nothing?”

“My dear, what can women like us do? We cannot leave our husbands nor can we control them regardless of how much we may want to do so.”

“True,” Axelle agreed. “Unfortunately so.”

Lady Caroline simply grinned.

“Might I ask you another question?” Axelle leaned forward. “One that I trust you shall keep in confidence?”

“Certainly.”

“If let’s say I have conceived a child but am not yet ready for it, would you know of a means to get rid of the babe without anyone knowing?”

Lady Caroline looked at her with an expression of horror, but slowly, her expression softened into one of understanding. “Well, I certainly did not expect that question from you.”

“As you’ve said, I am in no hurry to set up a nursery.”

“I understand,” Lady Caroline said. “We women must be able to decide when we want to have a child or not.”

Axelle nodded.

“I may know of a way,” Lady Caroline went on. “But it shall only work if you are not too far along.”

“I see,” Axelle said, trying to hide her elation at having confirmed another of her suspicions. “Well, I shall certainly let you know if I run into such a predicament.”

Lady Caroline just smiled.

“Forgive me, Lady Caroline, but I’m afraid I cannot stay long.” Axelle rose from her seat. “I must return to Rosalind and tend to her.”

“Of course.” Lady Caroline stood up, as well. “I hope she will recover quickly. You will come visit again next time, won’t you?”

“Certainly,” Axelle said. “Good day, Lady Caroline.”

“Good day, Lady Axelle.”

Axelle smiled at the other countess one last time before walking towards the door of the parlor but at the doorway, she stopped, the temptation to ask another question far too great that she could not ignore it.

“When we first met, Lady Caroline, you said that you had two miscarriages?”

“It was unfortunate really,” Lady Caroline answered.

“And you’re certain there were only two?”

“It is not likely something a woman would forget,” Lady Caroline answered. “Regardless of how much I wish to.”

“It is unfortunate, indeed,” Axelle agreed. “Good day.”

She walked on, thinking that she had a good idea of what had happened to Anne and hoping to confirm it when Reeve returned from London and told her of his conversation with the Count of Westbury. She suddenly felt impatient for his return, but had only taken a few steps when she felt something hard and heavy hit the back of her head, and as her vision darkened, her last thought was of her husband before she completely lost consciousness.

Reeve…

 

 

 

Eight

 

 

Reeve pulled his horse to a sudden halt, clasping his hand to his chest which felt painfully tight as his heart started pounding.

He did not know why but he suddenly had a gripping sense of foreboding, much like the one that had possessed him on the night of Anne’s murder.

No!

As soon as he had left the study of the Count of Westbury, he had gone to his own study to contemplate what information he had acquired so far, and after a while, a realization occurred to him, one that had sent him running to the stables so that he could have his horse saddled and ride straight to the countryside as fast as he could.

He had hoped he would be able to get to Axelle and tell her what he had learned before any trouble ensued, but now, with the apprehension that had suddenly seized him out of nowhere, he realized he could be too late, and he pulled on the reins, urging his horse to go faster than it had ever done even as he silently prayed that he was wrong in his suspicion.

Please let me be wrong.

 

 

She had been right, after all, Axelle thought as her memory returned to her.

For a few moments after she had opened her eyes, she had been confused, not knowing where she was or why her wrists were suddenly bound behind her, but then, as her mind cleared along with her vision, she realized that Lady Caroline had most likely taken her captive, probably because she suspected that Axelle learned her terrible secret.

The terrible secret that she had killed Anne.

Striving to keep herself calm and ignoring the dull ache at the back of her head, she looked around the room, noting that she seemed to have been taken to an old, abandoned cottage. In all her rides, she had never spotted such a cottage and so she could only surmise that the cottage was on Westbury grounds and if only she could free herself, she could find a way back to the Ravenhall estate and find someone who could bring her somewhere safe until Reeve returned.

She tugged at the ropes and when it was clear they were thick and firmly tied, she tried to get up and look for something sharp with which to cut them. Much to her relief, she found a piece of glass from a broken window and was about to start cutting the rope when she heard footsteps, making her sit down against the wall in order to give whoever entered the impression that she had just regained consciousness and had not moved.

BOOK: What Rumours Don't Say
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