A Compromised Lady (23 page)

Thinking about Dunhaven coercing Thea into marriage was more than provocation—it was incendiary.

He forced himself to think of other things…Winslow’s arrest…the magistrate’s visit the other day.

No wonder Thea had been upset. Had she suspected this might happen? Did that mean Winslow had killed Lallerton? Or simply that Thea believed he had done so? But why? Why kill his sister’s betrothed?

He rolled on to his back and stared up into the darkness. Sleep was going to be a long time coming, he realised. Not that he was any stranger to sleepless nights; over the years his leg had given him quite a few. His leg ached a little right now, but that wasn’t the reason sleep eluded him

—seared on his memory was Thea’s white face as she told him why he need not challenge Dunhaven. She had told him for one reason only—to save him. And she expected him to despise her for what she had done.

Thea felt battered as she faced Lady Arnsworth and Diana Fox-Heaton in the drawing room the next morning. The events of the previous evening, coupled with far too little sleep, had left her drained, but deep within a vein of determination beat a steady, sustaining rhythm. It flowed through her. The worst was over; she had told Richard the truth. Beyond securing David’s safety, nothing else mattered now.

Richard stood by the mantelpiece in silence, his face grim, set in hard lines, with the dark eyes shuttered. Pain stabbed her. He’d had time to think, to realise what a lucky escape he’d had…and as she had always known it would, his rejection left the world grey and bereft, as though the sun had abandoned it.

Diana Fox-Heaton was speaking. ‘Sir Francis believes that this meeting with the magistrate is vital,’

she said. ‘He thinks that Sir Giles wishes to ascertain whether or not a trial would have any chance of success, that it is possible the case might be dropped if Sir Giles is of the opinion Mr Winslow would be acquitted.’

Thea’s breath jerked in, but Richard might have turned to stone. Not by so much as a flicker did he react to Diana Fox-Heaton’s message.

Lady Arnsworth was not so restrained.

‘Really! This is most improper, Diana!’ she fussed. ‘Dorothea cannot possibly appear at Bow Street!’

She glared at Diana Fox-Heaton in a way that suggested that Diana was running the gauntlet of all the risks associated with being the bearer of bad tidings. ‘Surely this is all a mistake and Mr Winslow will be released anyway.’ When no one answered she demanded, ‘Why does Sir Francis think her presence necessary?’

Diana shook her head. ‘He didn’t say, ma’am. You know what men are. Explanations are not a strength, unless one insists, and he was in a hurry. All he said was that if Thea knew anything that might assist her brother’s case, she should attend.’

Thea waited, her hands linked carefully in her lap. In an odd way she felt completely detached from the situation. This discussion could not make the least difference to her course. She already knew what she had to do. She had known since finding out about David’s arrest the previous night, but she had neither energy nor inclination to argue with Lady Arnsworth. Nor did she look again at Richard, still standing silently by the mantelpiece. There was a measure of peace in having her decision so clearly laid out for her this time—a calm certainty that she was doing the right thing.

‘Richard!’ said Lady Arnsworth. ‘Surely you must see the impropriety of this!’

At that, Thea turned to look at him. The dark gaze was focused on her, still shuttered.

‘Thea?’ was all he said.

Shock burned through her. He was not going to attempt to influence her one way or the other.

This decision, for good or ill, was hers and he knew it.

‘I have to go,’ she said.

‘Dorothea!’

‘Enough, Almeria!’ Richard moved then, coming to stand beside and slightly behind Thea’s chair.

‘This is her decision to make. Winslow’s life is slightly more important than matters of propriety.’

Lady Arnsworth favoured him with a polar glare. ‘And you approve?’

From the corner of her eye, Thea saw tension take him.

‘It is not my place to approve or disapprove,’ he said gently. ‘But whether Thea likes it or not, I will go with her to Bow Street.’ She turned to stare up at him and his hand, warm and strong, gripped her shoulder. ‘As a friend,’ he added.

Heat stung and burned her eyelids. He had come to her last night, comforted her. It seemed that he refused to judge her, despite what she had told him. And now he would stand her friend. If there had been any judging, it had been done by herself.

She had completely misjudged the depth of his loyalty. And now he would discover the rest of the truth. She did not think she stood a chance of persuading him to remain outside Sir Giles’s chamber.

The cab rattled over the cobbles towards Bloomsbury. Richard had thought it better not to advertise their visit to the entire world by using a crested carriage. Thea sat spear-straight beside him, her face hidden by the poke of her bonnet and a veil. Almeria had insisted on the veil. Thea had agreed, but not, Richard thought, because she thought it a good idea. He didn’t think she cared one way or another. Her whole being was focused on what was to come.

As they swung around into Bow Street, he asked himself yet again if, in supporting her decision, he was doing the right thing. Telling the magistrate the truth handed him an iron-clad reason to send David Winslow for trial. Duelling—he assumed it would have been a duel—was frowned upon; the magistrates wanted to crack down on it. If it were decided to make an example of Winslow…he bit his lip. Thea would never forgive herself.

They drew up outside Number Three, Bow Street, and Thea turned to him and spoke for the first time since she had thanked him for handing her into the cab.

‘Will you forgive me, Richard?’ She reached out and her hand hovered over his.

He captured it swiftly. ‘Forgive you? For what?’

She bit her lip. ‘For not telling you quite everything. Please believe that it was not because I did not trust you. Just that…I have to tell Sir Giles…’ She swallowed and her fingers trembled. ‘But this is not something I can talk about easily.’

‘Of course not,’ he said quietly. ‘There is nothing to forgive.’

He opened the door and stepped down to pay off the jarvey before handing Thea down.

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Exactly, thought Richard, as one might imagine a person would face a firing squad.

They were ushered into Sir Giles’s private chamber and found Winslow, Sir Francis Fox-Heaton and Lord Braybrook already there.

Winslow’s mouth went white as he saw Thea.

‘Damn you, Blakehurst!’ he said. ‘This is no fit place for her! Why didn’t you stop her?’

‘With what authority?’ asked Richard.

‘It was my choice, David,’ said Thea. ‘Good day, Sir Giles. I hope we have not kept you waiting.’

The magistrate rose. ‘Not at all, Miss Winslow. Thank you for your message.’

‘Message?’ She looked puzzled.

Richard intervened. ‘I sent a groom.’

The glare Winslow shot him was lethal. ‘Thought of everything, didn’t you?’

Ignoring this, Sir Giles said, ‘Miss Winslow, this is a very serious matter. As you know, we received information that Mr Nigel Lallerton, to whom you were betrothed, was murdered. That initial information suggested that you might be able to shed light on the matter. Since then, more information has been provided, directly accusing your brother of cold-bloodedly murdering Mr Lallerton.’ He paused. ‘I must ask you, Miss Winslow,’ he continued, a steely bite in his voice, ‘if you know of any reason your brother might have had to murder your betrothed?’

‘Leave her out of this!’ snapped Winslow. ‘Yes, I killed him, but it wasn’t murder! It was a duel, properly conducted according the Code of Honour. Will that satisfy you?’

‘I will remind you, Mr Winslow,’ said Sir Giles, ‘that duelling is now illegal, no matter how properly conducted, and that my question was directed to your sister. I want the whole truth. Miss Winslow?’

She glanced at Winslow. ‘It’s better this way, David.’

‘Thea—!’

Something in her gaze quelled his protest and he fell silent. Richard swallowed as Thea turned to Sir Giles. If it had taken courage to tell him the truth, how much more must it take to confess here?

‘It was my fault, sir. I ask you to remember that I was not quite seventeen at the time—’

‘Dammit, Thea!’ snarled Winslow, shaking off Braybrook’s restraining hand as he surged to his feet.

‘It was not your fault that the bastard raped you!’ He turned on Sir Giles, naked fury in his face.

‘That’s what happened—now are you satisfied?’

S hocked silence hung there thickly. For a moment no one moved. Sir Giles’s shrewd eyes rested on Thea, who met the searching gaze unflinchingly.

Richard felt as though an avalanche had swept over him, as odd little things tumbled into place…

‘Is that true, Miss Winslow?’

Something about Sir Giles’s voice had changed. There was a gentleness in it that had not been there earlier. But the underlying steel remained. The sword might have been sheathed, but it remained a sword.

‘Yes, sir. That is the truth.’

Her soft reply lacerated Richard as though he had swallowed powdered glass. Why hadn’t he seen it? She had told him that she had never loved Lallerton…her dazed terror the other day when she had fainted and come to on the sofa and found him leaning over her…even her reluctance to marry might stem from a fear far more elemental than worry over a bridegroom’s reaction to her lost virginity…Hell’s teeth! If Lallerton weren’t already dead…His fists clenched involuntarily. A pistol would be too quick.

Movement drew him back.

Sir Giles had risen to his feet and gone over to a small side table that held a decanter and glasses.

He poured something into a glass and came back, placing the glass gently in Thea’s hand.

‘Brandy. Miss Winslow, I understand that this must be distressing for you. If you can bring yourself to speak of this…I can make no promises, but it may help your brother.’

She looked up and nodded. ‘Yes, sir. I…I know.’

‘You were betrothed to Mr Lallerton, were you not?’

She hesitated. Then, ‘Yes, Nigel Lallerton and I were betrothed—that is, our fathers had arranged the match. I…I was not entirely happy about it and had expressed my doubts to my father. I asked for more time to…to become better acquainted with Mr Lallerton.’ Richard saw her swallow.

‘Instead, my father announced the betrothal and an early date for the wedding.’

Sir Giles’s hand shifted on the desk. ‘Go on.’

‘I panicked and told Mr Lallerton that I did not wish to marry him. He…he appeared to accept my refusal, but asked me to drive out with him. There was a storm, and we were forced to shelter at an inn for the night…’

Not caring what anyone thought, Richard reached out and took one clenched hand from her lap, cradling it protectively.

‘Damn it, Mason!’ he snarled. ‘Hasn’t this gone far enough?’

Shrewd green eyes met his furious gaze. ‘I think so,’ said the magistrate quietly. ‘Miss Winslow, if it were necessary, would you be prepared to tell me the rest? Even in open court?’

Richard felt the hand in his tremble, and protested, ‘For God’s sake! You cannot mean to make her go through such a confession in court!’

Sir Giles shook his head. ‘I am not asking that of you at the moment, Miss Winslow—but if it were necessary, would you give that evidence?’

She dragged in an audible breath. ‘Yes.’ Firm and clear, although her face was blanched and she was visibly shaking.

He nodded, turning to Winslow. ‘Very well. It seems you had sufficient motive to challenge Lallerton, Mr Winslow.’

‘The hell I did!’ snapped Winslow. ‘Lallerton had exactly what he wanted—my sister in a position where she had no choice but to marry him. How the hell could I challenge him?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Fury seared through Richard. His jaw felt as though it might crack.

Winslow turned on him. ‘What the devil was I supposed to do, Blakehurst? Think about it! And believe me, I had every intention of being the brother-in-law from hell!’

‘Are you saying that you did not issue the actual challenge, then, Winslow?’ asked Sir Giles.

Winslow’s teeth grated. ‘I did not. Lallerton had been staying with my family in the country up to that point. Everyone was in an uproar over them being out all night, and he returned to town.’ He glanced at Thea. ‘At first my sister said nothing. Literally. Until our father said that he had told Lallerton to return with a special licence, that she had no choice now. She ran from the room. I followed to try to make her see sense.’ He broke off and swallowed.

‘That was when she told you about the rape?’ asked Sir Giles.

Winslow nodded. ‘More or less. I noticed bruising on her wrists, one on her cheek.’

A savage growl escaped Richard.

Winslow glanced at him. ‘Precisely.’

‘And what then did you do?’ pressed Sir Giles.

A mirthless smile curved Winslow’s lips. ‘I followed him up to town with the intention of beating him to a pulp! When I reached town, Lallerton was not at his lodgings—his man told me that he was dining with Fox-Heaton, so I went round there.’

The magistrate turned to Sir Francis. ‘Can you confirm or deny this?’

Sir Francis nodded. ‘Certainly. Winslow arrived at my rooms in a rage and forced his way in past my servant. There was a fight in which Lallerton sustained a black eye and lost several teeth.’

Richard failed to suppress an approving mutter, and the magistrate gave him a quelling glare.

‘Did Mr Winslow give any indication of what the quarrel was about?’

‘He did not,’ said Sir Francis. ‘And nor did Lallerton. He told Winslow in very offensive terms that he would meet him and that was that. Winslow told him not to be a damned fool, and—’

‘I beg your pardon?’ interrupted Sir Giles. ‘What did you say?’

‘Winslow told him not to be a damned fool?’

‘Yes—that. Very well. Go on.’

Sir Francis shrugged. ‘There’s very little more to say. Lallerton accused him of not having the stomach for a duel and Winslow then agreed to the challenge in even more offensive terms and told me that his second would call on me.’ He nodded at Lord Braybrook. ‘Braybrook called the following morning. Neither principal was prepared to back down, the duel went ahead and Lallerton was killed. Both Lord Aberfield and Lord Chasewater decided to hush the matter up.’ He hesitated, then said, ‘In fact, although I had my suspicions, I was never sure, until just now, what had occasioned the quarrel between Winslow and Lallerton.’