Nothing to Commend Her (25 page)

"But she said her maid would be there."

"She assumed,” Magnus rasped as he paused at her door, listening for any sound.

Crittenden's wide eyes met his. “Voices,” he mouthed. “The maid?"

Magnus’ heart fell to the bottom of his chest as he shook his head. He motioned for Crittenden to remain at Agatha's door, while he moved down the hall to his rooms, hoping to surprise Beatrice through his connecting door, and praying he wouldn't be too late.

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"Oh, Tess,” Agatha called to her maid lying still as a stone on the floor beside the bed.

"She can't hear you,” Beatrice said.

Agatha had seen Tess’ feet sticking out from behind the bed on the far side of the room, but hadn't managed to cross to her before Beatrice appeared from the dressing room holding a gun. Agatha's gun.

"Is she—” she swallowed her fear, she could show no sign of weakness.

Beatrice studied her before answering. “No. I've not decided her fate as of yet."

Clasping her hands before her to keep them from shaking, she took a deep breath. “But you've decided mine."

"Yes. I'd first intended to push you out the window, but now,” she said, motioning with the gun, “I think I'll simply shoot you."

"You won't succeed in escaping. We'd deducted it was you. Magnus will find you."

"Oh, but he'll have no proof. After all, this is your gun.” She waved the gun toward the secretary. “Sit down, Lady Leighton. You're going to write a letter."

Agatha moved leisurely, praying Magnus and George would wonder what was keeping her so long, but they were likely hiding in the orangery by now. She hoped Katherine didn't appear. She had no doubt her friend would do something rash, headstrong was too small a word to describe Katherine Reynolds.

Agatha sat down at the desk, knowing full well what she wanted her to do. “A suicide note, I presume."

"You are the smart one, aren't you?” Beatrice eased closer, but not close enough that Agatha could do anything. “Start writing."

"What do you wish for me to say?"

"Oh, the usual. Your husband doesn't love you, and you're unhappy. This dismal house has driven you quite mad and you wish to end it all."

"No one will believe it, no one that knows me,” she said, stalling for time, trying to come up with some way out of this horrendous predicament.

"No one does know you, silly girl,” she hissed. “You were a speck on the wall for too many seasons. No one will care that you're gone."

"My husband will care."

She laughed, a frightening maddening sort of laugh. “That fool of a man doesn't know the first thing about love.” Her gaze narrowed. “And neither do you."

Agatha turned in her seat, away from the pen and paper. “Then how will killing me make him suffer? If he knows nothing of love, then my death will surely not cause him any grief."

"Oh, it will hurt him. Two dead wives. The gossip will destroy him, the
ton
won't have anything to do with him after this, I'll see to that. He'll be alone for the rest of his life. And the best part is the fool actually
believes
he's in love with you. That is an unexpected treat."

"When did you suspect he cared for me?"

"It was obvious at Crittenden's ball. He couldn't keep his eyes off of you. I nearly laughed aloud when I realized who'd caught his attention."

"And if he'd not chosen a new wife, what then? How would you have found your revenge?"

"If you must know, I was going to marry the fool,” she said, her face contorted into a distasteful scowl. “I was ready to marry the disgusting beast, disgrace him at every turn, and send him to the poorhouse."

Much became clear to Agatha. Her years of observation brought a good deal to light. “You dislike men immensely. So much so that you avoid them at all costs."

"They're all oafs. What of it?"

"Nothing, except it explains quite a bit. She was more than your friend, wasn't she?"

"You don't know anything,” she growled. “Just shut up and write that note."

"I know that you wish to kill me so that Magnus will suffer, as you suffered. Your words, not mine. That leads me to believe you loved Elizabeth as more than a friend, but I suspect she didn't love you in the same way."

The gun shook in her hand. “She loved me! It was him, it was all his fault. We were happy until he came along."

"But you were never lovers. She may have not loved Magnus, but she never loved you either. You were merely a friend to her, nothing more. She wanted rank and money—and men, but never you."

The gun shook violently. “You're wrong!"

Magnus opened the connecting door and eased inside the room. Agatha held her breath and forced her gaze to remain on Beatrice, lest she give him away.

"I am rarely wrong in matters of deduction,” Agatha said, forcing a cool reserve to her voice, one she did not feel, by any means. “I also know that you will not succeed in this plan of yours."

"You little nobody!” She lifted the gun higher and took aim.

Magnus lunged from behind, throwing Beatrice to the ground.

"Magnus!” Agatha lurched forward, but Crittenden burst through the door and placed himself between her and the pair wrestling on the floor.

A shot cracked the air and the room went still.

Agatha clasped her hand to her throat, too terrified to speak, to say what she feared might be so, as neither body moved. A tunnel formed before her as she waited for some sign. She blinked, but the tunnel only narrowed further. Her lungs refused to take in any air, and her legs grew too weak to support her. The last thing she remembered was the room spinning around her and the sound of her name.

Magnus leapt from his prone position atop Beatrice, and took his wife's limp body from Crittenden. “Agatha, are you hurt? Agatha!"

He carried her to the bed as Crittenden reached down and felt for a pulse against Beatrice's throat as Katherine rushed into the room. Magnus hardly spared him a look, but saw him shake his head. It was over, but what of his wife?

"Agatha, love, wake up,” he begged, then kissed her gently and brushed a stray tendril from her cheek. “Wake up, my love. It's over."

Her lids flickered and blinked several times, then with a cry, she through her arms around his neck and sobbed against his chest. “I thought you—the shot—oh, Magnus."

"Shh, love. It's over. I'm fine, but you gave me a fright."

"I-I fainted?"

"Yes, love."

She looked up at him, her brows furrowed deeply. “But I never faint."

He chuckled at her confoundedness. “It would seem there's a first time for everything."

Katherine helped the maid sit up, as she cradled the back of her head. “Blimey, what happened?"

Agatha laughed roughly against his chest. “Let us hope this was a last."

"I second that,” he said, holding her tight.

Barstoke and many of the staff hovered at the door.

"Send for the magistrate and a physician,” Magnus said. “And someone help Tess to her room. I want the doctor to have a look at that bump on her head."

"Oh, I'm fine, my lord. But my lady—"

"I'm fine as well Tess. Just a bit overcome by everything,” Agatha said.

Tess eyed Beatrice's still body and made a wide berth as Crittenden and Katherine assisted her across the room to the door to a pair of footmen.

Magnus lifted his wife in his arms and headed for the connecting door to his room. “You need to rest and not in here."

"I said I feel fine,” she fussed softly.

"So you did,” he said, as he strode into his room.

He placed her on the bed, and pulled the coverlet over her. “Stay here while I take care of things."

"But Magnus—"

"Humor me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead.

He returned to her room, the image of her sweet smile firmly etched in his mind.

Clarkson came and went, and without bothering to question Agatha, which was just as well, as far as Magnus was concerned. He wanted her fully rested and calm. Once this business was done, he planned to join her there, and show her just how much she meant to him. He'd come far too close to losing her.

Against her wishes, however, he had the doctor give her a good look, determined to know she was well. Tess too, was seen to.

"Both are well?” Crittenden asked as he entered the study, Miss Reynolds on his heels. The doctor and magistrate having left moments before.

"Yes, they are well, and Clarkson has it all in hand."

"That's a relief. I wasn't sure how this would end. That man is rather odious,” Miss Reynolds said.

"Yes, he is a bit of a curmudgeon, but he's fair,” Magnus said.

"Well then, in that case, I should prepare to leave,” she said, and turned on her heels then headed for the door.

"Leave?” Crittenden asked. “Now?"

She paused and looked back over her shoulder. “Yes, now. I'll leave as soon I've said goodbye to Agatha.” She looked to Magnus. “I thank you for being so hospitable. It's been a pleasure meeting you, my lord. If you're ever in America, do look me up."

He nodded, then she smiled and turned back toward the door.

"Just a minute,” Crittenden said, snagging her by the arm.

"I've not but that to spare if I wish to make London before dark.” She slipped from his grip and strolled into the hall, Crittenden following like a lost pup.

Magnus moved to the doorway and watched with a grin as she led his friend on a merry chase.

"Why such a rash decision?” Crittenden said, following her up the stairs.

"Rash?"

"Yes, why London, why now, why this instant?"

"Because that is where the ships are that sail to America,” she said, as if explaining the obvious to a child.

"And you must return now?"

"I see no reason to wait. I'll not hang about while Agatha and Lord Leighton begin their new life together, now that this mess is done. I'd be quite in the way."

Magnus followed, slowly moving to his own rooms, but still well within hearing distance.

"Then come to Haverton House,” Crittenden said, and the lady paused in her stride toward her room.

"Why?” she asked softly.

"Because—because—damn it all, Katherine, you know why."

Magnus hand rested on the handle to his door as he looked down the hall at the pair.

Miss Reynolds turned, a small smile on her face. “No, I don't know why. I'll not hypothesize, theorize, or make a single conjecture on this matter. I have to have the facts."

Crittenden paced back and forth, running his hand through his hair. Magnus wanted to laugh, but had been in the man's shoes before and quite knew the feeling. Then Crittenden did something he'd never expected of his old friend.

He fell to one knee and took her hand in his. “Will you marry me?"

The lovely lady tilted her head to the side, and said, “I know that was difficult for you, George, but I'll not marry a man who doesn't love me."

"Then you'd best plan the wedding, dearest, because I do love you.” With that he leapt to his feet and pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

The sight put a wide smile on Magnus face, as he slipped inside his bedroom.

"Dare I ask why you're smiling so wide?” Agatha asked from the bed. He did so love seeing her there, her hair across his pillow, her gaze soft and warm.

"Crittenden just asked Miss Reynolds to marry him."

She sat up with a laugh. “Did she say yes?"

"After he confessed to loving her, yes."

He removed his clothes then slid between the covers.

"His mother will be pleased,” she said.

"No doubt.” He pulled her against his chest and using his chin, nudged the strap of her chemise aside so he could taste her shoulder.

"They make a good match.” She said. “If George can handle her intelligence and her determination. She's rather independent."

"Hmm,” he murmured against her skin.

"Um, Magnus, do you really think we should—well, after all, it is the middle of the day."

He pulled the small tie at the top and spread the fabric wide, exposing her full breasts.

"The magistrate is gone, the doctor as well,” he said, nipping at a tender bud, peaked and ready for his attentions. “And Crittenden will be on his way home with Miss Reynolds as his guest within the hour. There's no one left to bother us.” He pulled the red-tipped berry into his mouth and suckled.

"Ohhh, well—um—if you're certain,” she breathed.

"Positive.” He moved to divest her completely of her chemise, wanting all of her exposed to him.

"This just seems a bit improper. Scandalous, even,” she said, but squiggled to release the cloth from her body.

"That it is,” he said with a hearty chuckle. “But I refuse to bow to convention. You are my wife, and I plan on making love to you whenever I wish, for as long as I wish."

"Oh, I rather like the sound of that.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"That isn't all you're going to like,” he murmured.

"You know, last night you snuffed all the lights and removed my spectacles so I wouldn't see you, and not a moment ago you undressed before me without a hint of discomfort."

He paused, his lips hovering over hers. “I—I hadn't even realized."

She smiled up at him, sliding her hands over his bare chest. “I do love progress. Among other things,” she breathed, one hand moving lower to find him more than ready to fill her every desire.

"And I love a fast learner,” he groaned, then took her mouth in a long drugging kiss.

"I always was a good student."

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Agatha threw her arms around her cousin, so excited to see her, and relieved. She needed some help with organizing Katherine's wedding to Lord Crittenden.

They'd decided to marry in the country, instead of in London. Lady Crittenden wasn't all too pleased with that, but seeing her son happy and with a suitable woman, she did her best to remain quiet on the subject.

While Haverton House was overflowing with Lord Crittenden's relatives and friends, Bridley Hall was filled with Katherine's relations. And in that, Magnus was not all too pleased, but Agatha thought she'd managed to keep him happy even with all the intruders. Not a night passed that they didn't sleep wrapped in one another's arms.