My Lord Murderer (8 page)

“There is no point in telling him until she accepts the invitation, is there?”

“Yes, there is,” Wys said firmly. “By the time Lady Rowle agrees, it will be too late for Selby to put a stop to it.”

Hetty glanced at her guest mischievously. “I see you have a basic understanding of the situation,” she said with a giggle.

“Hetty!” Wys said, rising and frowning down at her in disapproval. “How can you use Selby so! I won’t be a party to it.”

“I’m not asking you to be a party to it,” Hetty declared vehemently, her smile fading into a petulant pout. “You’re behaving as if I were doing something reprehensible. I’ll have you know this is not at all the case. I am merely making plans to rusticate for a few weeks at the manor house in Suffolk—something Selby has been urging me to do for the past age—and I mean to ask a friend or two to join us there. I’m certain Selby will see nothing objectionable in
that.
”

“Yes, my dear,” said Wys, feeling quite uncomfortable at the thought that Hetty was sharing with him the very information she was withholding from her husband. “But
tell
him first.” He leaned toward her in earnest appeal. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me if only you’ll tell him first.”

Hetty fixed her eyes on Wys coldly. “I’m sure you
mean
well, Mr. Farr, and I know you are an old and respected friend of the family—”

Wys sighed. “Now, Hetty—”

“But that does
not
give you the right to advise me on how to handle my own husband! Marriage is a subject about which you know absolutely nothing!”

“Through no fault of my own, I assure you,” Wys murmured.

“Of course it’s your own fault! I’ve put half a dozen wonderful young ladies in your way in the last few months. One was too shrill, and one was too plump, and one too silly, and one too bookish…”

Wys colored. “We were talking of another matter, I think,” he suggested mildly, not any more willing to discuss his private affairs than he was to discuss Hetty’s silly plan.

Hetty subsided. “You’re right, of course. We were. That is,
you
were interfering in my marital affairs.”

“I beg your pardon,” Wys said amicably.

Hetty got up and began to pace about the room. “You are a most irritating person to quarrel with, Wys. You never get angry.”

“I have nothing to be angry about,” Wys said mildly. “May I have a bit more of this ham?”

Hetty, realizing that he was trying to change the subject, pouted. “You’ll be as stout as Selby one day,” she muttered.

“I suppose you’re right. Well, then, I’ll take my leave. If I remain here at the table, I shall be tempted to gorge myself.” And he stood up again, a gleam of hope that he could escape from the whole affair brightening his eyes.

Hetty scurried up to him, the top of her curly head as high as his shoulder, and pushed him back into his chair. “Not until I have your word that you will bring Drew to Stonehaven by the end of the month!” she said stubbornly.

“Even if I were to agree, I don’t see how I’m to manage it,” he objected.

“I’ve
told
you how. You are to invite him to your shooting lodge in Melbourn. There you will become queasy and dispeptic, and suddenly it will occur to you that Selby and I are in residence at the manor, a mere two hour ride. You will suggest to Drew that you will get some proper care
chez nous
!”

“I don’t see why you can’t invite Drew yourself. It would be so much simpler.”

“I can’t very well assure Gwen Rowle that he won’t be there if I’ve already invited him! Do you want me to
lie
?” Hetty asked with perfect sincerity.

“Your
scruples
are beyond me,” sighed the put-upon Mr. Farr. “You’re expecting
me
to lie to
Drew
, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but if you do this
my
way, both Gwen and Drew will believe his arrival to be accidental. Only you and I will know…”

“And Selby, of course.”

Hetty stamped her foot. “Dash it, Wys, leave Selby out of this! He’s completely incapable of any sort of dissembling. He would stammer and cough and act uncomfortable. Believe me, the less he knows, the better our chances.”

“I’m not particularly good at dissembling either, you know. Perhaps you ought to find another way to get Drew to Stonehaven,” Wys suggested, still hoping to find a way out of this fix.

“You are not going to refuse me!” cried Hetty desperately. “You are my only hope!” She dropped down on her knees beside his chair and grasped his hand. “Please, Wys, please! You say Drew is your closest friend. You want to see him happy, don’t you? You want his name cleared, don’t you? You can’t turn your back on him now!”

Wys looked down at the pert little face turned up to his. Her eyes were filling with tears. Selby and Drew had often laughed at Hetty’s talent for making her eyes water at will, but Wys could not keep himself from being affected. Having been deprived of a mother at an early age, he was inexperienced in dealing with women. The least sign of tender emotions on a woman’s face rendered him helpless and miserable. “Don’t cry, Hetty, I beg you,” he urged unhappily. “I’ll do as you ask, I promise, but
do
get up, and don’t cry!”

Hetty jumped to her feet, smiled at him sunnily and clapped her hands. “Dear, dear Wys! It will all work out beautifully, I know it will!”

An hour later, Hetty—wearing a high-crowned bonnet adorned with enormous, sweeping ostrich feathers dyed a bright shade of green—was ushered into Gwen’s drawing room. Gwen, entering behind her, was quite unprepared for the sight. She gaped at the bonnet in some dismay. “Good heaven, Hetty, what a hat!”

“Don’t you like it?” Hetty asked in consternation. “I paid a fortune for it, I can tell you. I’ve been afraid to show Selby the bill.”

“Oh, it’s quite magnificent. In fact, it’s … it’s as tall as
you
are!”

“Oh, dear,” said Hetty, turning to the mirror over the mantelpiece and staring at herself critically, “I was
afraid
it would be too overpowering. I said those very words to the milliner, but she assured me I could carry it off.”

“And so you can,” Gwen said, smiling at her fondly. “It makes you look quite imposing.”

Hetty looked at her friend dubiously. “Do you really think so? Well, I shan’t trouble myself about it, since I’ll be leaving town before having an opportunity to wear it again.”

“Leaving town?” Gwen asked.

“Yes. Selby must go to Suffolk to see about the estates, and he
insists
that I accompany him. It’s such a bore. Night after night with no company but a few Suffolk provincials.”

“Sit down, Hetty, and let me give you some of this ratafia. There. Now, dreadful girl, tell me why you are complaining about a trip to Suffolk. Surely a few weeks in the country, basking in the lovely autumn sunshine, tramping through the leaves, breathing all that crisp country air, need not be considered such a trial?”

Hetty smiled at Gwen eagerly. “Do you really feel that way about the country?” she asked delightedly. “I’m so glad, because that’s why I’ve come.”

Gwen raised her eyebrows. “To hear my views on country life?”

“No, silly, of course not. To ask you to come
with
me.”

“Come with you?” Gwen asked in surprise. “But why on earth—?”

“I would
so
enjoy your company. It’s quite lonely at Stonehaven, you know, at least for me. Selby is closeted for hours at a time with his bailiff, or he goes riding about the estate seeing to the farms and the livestock, and what have
I
to do with myself all day? But if you were with me, we could take long walks and have some good gossips over the embroidery frames, and play hearts and read to each other … oh, all sorts of things…”

“Hetty,” said Gwen wistfully, “it is lovely of you to invite me, and I should truly enjoy spending a few weeks with you, but…”

“But what, my dear? Surely Lady Hazel could spare you for a while?”

“Yes, of course. But there are several other things that would make it impossible. Thank you, Hetty, but—”

“What things?”

“My brother, for one. He’s been looking a trifle out of curl, and coughing a bit. I couldn’t leave him now.”

“He’s not seriously ill, is he?”

“No, but a cough like that may worsen, you know, and I’m terrified of his developing an inflammation of the lungs.”

Hetty nodded in sympathy, and the two sat in thoughtful silence. Suddenly Hetty clapped her hands eagerly and bounced up and down on her chair. “I have it,” she cried. “We’ll take him to Stonehaven with us! A few weeks in the country should do wonders for him. Rustication is the very thing!”

Gwen surveyed her friend speculatively. “Isn’t it strange,” she mused, “that Lady Hazel said those very words this morning?”

“What words?” asked Hetty, blinking her eyes in what she hoped was stupid innocence.

“That a couple of weeks in the country would be the very thing for Tom.” Gwen rose and paced back and forth before the fireplace. “A couple of weeks in the country would no doubt be good for
both
of us. Hetty, you
do
make it all sound so tempting. I scarcely have the strength to refuse you. But no, I couldn’t accept. I couldn’t. What if…? I mean, suppose…?” Gwen sat down and twisted her fingers in her lap. “Please don’t be offended, my dear, but I cannot bring myself to visit you any more.” And she lowered her head in embarrassment.

“Oh, I
see
,” said Hetty. “It’s Drew, isn’t it. I was
afraid
that dreadful duel would come between us.”

“Don’t say that, Hetty. It needn’t spoil
our
friendship at all. You may visit
here
whenever you like. I shall always be delighted to see you. But if I come to you, I run the risk of meeting your brother, and you understand that I must avoid that, don’t you?”

“I suppose I understand. I’ve been reproaching myself for
weeks
about the occurrence at my ball. I was a fool to permit such a thing to happen.”

“It was not your fault. You
had
to invite your brother to your own ball.”

“Yes, but I didn’t wish to cause you any pain or embarrassment. I truly believed that at such a tremendous squeeze—you know, there were at least two hundred people present—one could easily avoid anybody one wished to. I didn’t know that you and Drew had never met and could not recognize each other.”

“Hetty, don’t blame yourself. Who could have foretold that he would ask a perfect stranger to dance with him—without an introduction!—or that I would be fool enough to permit him to do it.”

“Well, it certainly was an unfortunate evening,” Hetty sighed. “But nothing can be done to erase it. However, I shan’t dwell on it, so long as you assure me that our friendship has not been destroyed.”

“I promise you that it has not.”

“Good,” said Hetty with alacrity. “Then there’s no reason why you can’t come with me to Stonehaven.”

“But, Hetty, you shatterbrain, I just explained—”

“I know, but you will not meet Drew at Stonehaven. He
never
goes there. It’s Selby’s place, after all. Not that we wouldn’t welcome him, of course, but he has his own lands at Abingdon, and he usually can be found
there
when he’s not in London. And there’s another family estate in Devon, you know, so one can scarcely expect him to spend time at
our
place. Managing estates as extensive as his requires quite a bit of time, and Drew is very conscientious about his responsibilities, you see.”

“Is he? I wouldn’t have thought—! But never mind. Do you mean to say that he’s never visited you at Stonehaven?”

“Of course he has, when he’s been expressly invited. He spent Christmas there once, I remember. But he has not been invited this time, I promise. Believe me, my dear, you will be quite safe from him in Suffolk.”

Gwen looked at her friend contritely. “Hetty, you must think me dreadfully rude. He
is
your brother, after all.”

Hetty leaned over and pressed Gwen’s hand. “No, I don’t find you at all rude. I understand perfectly. But you will say you’ll come, won’t you?”

“Gladly,” Gwen said with a warm smile, and the two sealed the bargain with a hug.

“So she hopes to diddle me, does she?” Selby asked, looking into his brandy glass, an angry sparkle in his eye.

“I didn’t put it that way,” Wys said uneasily. The two friends were seated in a corner of the lounge at White’s, Wys having tracked Selby down for the purpose of revealing Hetty’s plan. “I feel like a tattling old chubb telling you all this.”

“And so you are, dear boy, and so you are. No point in roundaboutation: a tattler is a tattler.”

“Would it have been better if I’d have gone along with her tricks?” Wys demanded defensively. “I
had
expected a bit more of gratitude from you.”

“Why should I be grateful? Here I was, playing cards in complete contentment, not a care in the world, and you bring me news that my wife is entangling herself, and all of us, in some wild imbroglio.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you would rather not have known?”

“Of
course
I’d rather not have known!”

Wys shook his head in stupefaction. “Hetty is right. I don’t understand a thing about marriage.”

“Yes, she is. You don’t.”

“Nevertheless, I can’t believe you’d prefer to be an ostrich—not knowing what’s going on around you!”

“What’s the good of knowing what’s going on? If one
knows
, it follows that one must
act
on that knowledge.
Now
, you see, I must
do
something about all this.”

“Naturally,” Wys nodded in agreement. “Don’t you
want
to do anything about it?”

“No, I don’t. I’m much too lazy to enjoy taking action. And action against one’s wife is particularly wearing—there are so many ways a wife can get back at one. You’ve quite cut up my peace, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” Wys said, chastened.

“Well, no need to look so glum, old fellow. We shall brush through it. No point in making more of a hobble of the matter than it is.”

“Do you think you can stop Hetty from inviting Lady Rowle?”

“Probably not. If I know my wife, she has invited her already.”