A Scandalous Publication (5 page)

The book set aside for her took some time to find, at least that was what the particular young man who served her would have had her believe. He made a great fuss about searching, taking the opportunity to wipe his forehead with an elegant handkerchief, and fluff out the very intricate neckcloth burgeoning at his throat. He evidently thought himself very much the swell, and Charlotte was sure she could even smell cologne; it was as if he aspired to be Beau Brummell himself, not merely an assistant in a circulating library. At last he produced
Glenarvon,
which proved to consist of not one large but three very slender volumes beautifully bound in rich gilt and leather. She signed for them and tucked them carefully under her arm, feeling slightly disappointed as she prepared to leave, for the book promised to be shorter than she had anticipated. She hesitated, thinking that maybe she should select something else to take home as well, for Lady Caroline’s publication, while very shocking, did not promise to occupy a great deal of time.

She went to the rear of the library, where in the past she had discovered several excellent volumes. It was a quiet corner, perhaps because it was dark and shadowy, and she was quite alone as she began to look along the shelves. If she hadn’t knelt down on the little mat provided in order to inspect the bottom shelf, and if the reading table hadn’t been positioned quite where it was, the two ladies would have seen her immediately and their conversation would never have taken place within her hearing. As it was, they had no idea she was there and consequently thought themselves at liberty to speak as indiscreetly as they pleased; and by the time Charlotte realized who they were and what they were talking about, she did not dare move or draw attention to herself in any way whatsoever. She knelt motionless where she was, unwillingly eavesdropping upon every word that passed between Lady Judith Taynton and a certain Miss Sylvia Parkstone, who proved to be Max Talgarth’s former sister-in-law and who liked him rather less than she would an insect.

Charlotte couldn’t see their faces; she saw only their silk-stockinged feet clad in the latest patent-leather shoes, and the hems of their elegant walking gowns, richly adorned with the heavy embroidery and rouleaux, which were all the rage this year and which made everything Charlotte wore so very out-of-date. Judith was, as usual, wearing yellow, and equally as usual she was displeased, this time about having to accompany her companion to somewhere as dull as a library, and also because their conversation had taken a turn she most definitely did not care for. The other lady’s gown was a pale-pink muslin sprigged with silver-gray, and its beautifully decorated hem was trimmed with pink satin bows and a delicate edging of vandyked lace. She was evidently a little irritated, for the hem swung crossly as she moved, and she put down the books she was carrying with quite a bang on the table close to Charlotte’s hiding place.

Judith was so antagonized that she forgot her Devonshire House drawl. “You’re quite wrong, my dear Sylvia. In fact, you’ve no idea at all what you’re talking about.”

“Haven’t I? You’re the end in fools if you think Max Talgarth is about to make an honest woman of you. I think you believed that the moment he purchased Kimber Park he’d give up his apartment at Albany, which, after all, is exclusively for bachelors or widowers, but here we are, all this time later, and he still has his apartment.”

Judith’s rather petulant shrug was audible in her reply. “You’re too prejudiced for words, and really, Sylvia, it’s becoming quite tiresome.”

“You’d be prejudiced too if he’d done away with your sister.”

“Anyone would think you and Anne were close, but you most definitely weren’t. She was your half-sister, Sylvia, and she gave herself airs and graces because of the immense fortune she inherited from her mother.”

“Anne wasn’t like that and you know it.”

“Do I? Oh, come on now, Sylvia, stop being so stubborn, and stop overdramatizing everything. You were obsessed with theatricals when you were a child and you don’t seem to have changed at all. You’re the only one fanning the flames of suspicion against Max; even your own father doesn’t seem to share your views. He doted upon Anne, so if anyone could be expected to hold a grudge against Max for her death, it should be him. But, no, Admiral Henry Parkstone still welcomes Max to his house, still calls him his son-in-law, and still shows every sign of holding him in as much regard as he did on the day Anne married.”

Charlotte felt rather than saw the angry flush these words brought to Sylvia’s cheeks. “Taunt me as you wish, Judith, but if you’re honest with yourself, you’d admit that there was something very odd about Anne’s death. She was an expert with a horse and gig, yet for no apparent reason lost all control of an animal that was known to be docile enough. And then, while she was struggling to rein in, the wheel just happened to sheer off a brand-new vehicle! Don’t you think it strange? I know I do, especially when the gig was a gift from Max, at a time when the world knew they’d been at bitter odds. How can you pretend there’s nothing suspicious about it? And how can you say that I’m the only one fanning the flames when
everyone
whispers secretly about it?”

“They only whisper because
you
persist in bringing the subject up!”

“Do you expect me to hold my tongue about something as important as this? It matters very much, Judith, because whatever you say, Anne and I
were
close. Can you imagine how I felt watching her change at Max Talgarth’s hands from a vital, sweet-tempered creature into a sour-faced, jealous woman consumed with suspicion about everything? He did that to her; he was unfaithful, harsh, and thoughtless, and in the end he destroyed her. He married her because of the immense fortune she inherited from her mother’s family, and when it suited him, he rid himself of her.” She paused. “Accidents seem to have a peculiar way of turning to Max Talgarth’s benefit, don’t they?” she added quietly.

“And what exactly do you mean by that?”

“Surely it’s struck even you by now that George Wyndham’s death was immensely convenient for Max?”

Charlotte felt a sudden cold finger move down her spine. Her heart was beating so loudly that she was sure they must hear it at any moment, but they remained completely unaware of her presence.

Judith gave a brittle laugh. “Convenient for Max? My dear,
I
found it even more so, for his demise meant one less Wyndham to plague us.”

“Can’t you forget petty family quarrels for once? Forget what George Wyndham meant to you and think instead what he signified to Max
.
”

“Signified? What do you mean?”

“I mean that he was the obstacle between Max and Kimber Park. Max had long coveted that estate, Judith. He’d tried on a number of occasions to purchase it, but George Wyndham wouldn’t countenance selling.”

“How do you know all this? No doubt it’s as much an invention as all the rest of it.”

“It’s no invention. As you so eloquently pointed out, my father doesn’t share my views about Max, who is a frequent visitor to our house. Max told my father himself about his desire for Kimber Park and his attempts to acquire it. It wasn’t a secret.”

Charlotte was shaking now, and her heart was positively thumping in her breast. A sliver of ice seemed to enter her at what Sylvia Parkstone was suggesting. Please, don’t let it be true, don’t let it be true…
.

Judith was alarmed now. “Sylvia, I know that you feel justified in loathing Max, but really, you go too far now if you start saying that he was responsible for George Wyndham’s death.”

“Too far? Are you sure? Just remember, the horse that threw George Wyndham to his death had been won only a day or so before from Max, and that I find too much of a coincidence. Just think, another convenient ‘accident,’ and dear Max gets exactly what he wants. Oh, I admit that he offered a very handsome sum to the grieving family, but it doesn’t alter the fact that in the end he gained the prize he had desired for so very long, and in Max’s eyes, the end always justifies the means.”

Judith was quite uneasy. “You’re wrong about it all, Sylvia, and I think you’re despicable. If Max is supposed to think that the end justifies the means, then the same and more can be said of you, for there’s no depth to which you wouldn’t sink in your vendetta against him. I begin to think you want him yourself, that all this is nothing more than jealous spite because he’s never cast so much as a single appreciative glance in your direction.”

Sylvia gave a dry laugh. “I always wondered if you really were the fool you seemed to be, Judith Taynton. Now I know beyond a doubt that you are. You’d be better employed forgetting if I harbor secret desires for him and turning your foolish thoughts to wondering what
his
desires really are
—and I don’t mean that I think he desires me.”

“What do you mean, then?”

“Well, since we’ve been together today, you haven’t once mentioned the Westington duel.”

“Westington?
Lord
Westington?”

“The same.”

“But what on earth has
he
to do with this?”

Sylvia was enjoying her advantage. “Oh, simply that he’s yet another injured husband, one of the many Max Talgarth has left strewn behind him over the years.”

There was a long silence, and when Judith next spoke, her voice was much less sure. “If you’re suggesting that
—”

“That dear Max has been unfaithful to you? Yes, I rather think I am. But you shouldn’t be so surprised, my dear, after all he’s merely running true to form; he simply isn’t capable of being steadfast to one woman.”

“It’s a lie,” breathed Judith. “A horrid, horrid lie!”

“If it is, then the whole of society is perpetuating it. Westington has called Max out for seducing his wife, and it’s a scandal that is rattling the teacups with a vengeance at the moment, but then, you might not have heard because you’ve only just come up from obscurity at Kimber Park.” Sylvia’s voice was as smooth as silk. “You know what they say: while the cat’s away, the rat will play.”

She laughed a little. “I shrink from referring to Max Talgarth as a mere mouse.”

“You’re only saying all this because I’m your cousin and you cannot stomach the fact that I’ve become his mistress.”

“Oh, I admit that that does make your fall from grace a little difficult to accept, but I’m not acting out of malice, I’m acting out of concern because you
are
my cousin and I want even at this late point to try to make you see him for what he really is.”

“I refuse to believe anything you say about him.”

“Really? Well, that does surprise me, for you were eager enough once to believe what was said of him. Indeed, as I recall it, you were positively
thrilled
by the stories of his wickedness. It excited you to think that he’d killed three men in duels, and you were attracted like a pin to a magnet by his reputation with women. You didn’t care at all that he was on the point of marrying Anne; in fact, you sank so low as to try to take him from her. You were, and still are, the most conniving, spiteful, immoral creature it has ever been my misfortune to know, but God help me, you’re still my cousin, and for that reason alone I sought you out today to try to make you see sense. This Westington business must surely make some impression upon you.” There was a pause as Sylvia was quite evidently faced with Judith’s stubborn refusal to accept anything she’d been told. “Oh, very well, think as you please. You’re a lost cause, Judith Taynton, and you were even before you fell under Max Talgarth’s spell. I wash my hands of you.” Flicking her pale-pink skirts, she picked up her books and walked away, her patent-leather shoes tap-tapping angrily across the floor. She slammed the outer door so loudly that it momentarily silenced the low buzz of background conversation from all the other people using the library.

Judith remained where she was, and for a dreadful moment Charlotte thought her presence had been detected, but then she too walked out, closing the door much more softly behind her.

Slowly and very shakily, Charlotte got to her feet, leaning her hands weakly on the table and bowing her head, which was spinning with confused thoughts. Sylvia’s voice seemed to echo close by: “Forget what George Wyndham meant to you and think instead what he signified to Max….”

“He was the obstacle between Max and Kimber Park. Max had long coveted that estate, Judith. He’d tried on a number of occasions to purchase it, but George Wyndham wouldn’t countenance selling….”

“Just think, another convenient ‘accident,’ and dear Max gets exactly what he wants. Oh, I admit that he offered a very handsome sum to the grieving family, but it doesn’t alter the fact that in the end he gained the prize he had desired for so very long, and in Max’s eyes, the end always justifies the means…justifies the means…justifies the means….”

In something of a daze, she walked slowly from the library, the three volumes of
Glenarvon
clutched tightly in her hands. In the doorway, she halted in sudden surprise, for the warm sunshine had gone and a heavy spring shower had taken its place. People were hurrying by, umbrellas aloft, and already there were puddles in the gutters.

A carriage was passing, but it drew to a sudden halt by her and the solitary occupant lowered the glass. “Good morning, Miss Wyndham, may I be of assistance?”

She found herself staring into Max Talgarth’s piercing blue eyes.

He alighted, ignoring the rain. He had on a dark-brown coat and beige trousers, and there were spurs at the heels of his Hessian boots. Removing his top hat, he inclined his head. “May I convey you anywhere in this rain, Miss Wyndham?”

She was so shocked to see him again, especially after all that she’d just heard, that she froze, quite unable to reply.

Her reaction puzzled him. “Are you all right?”

She found her tongue then. “Yes, quite all right. Thank you.”

“Is there any assistance I can offer you? If you’re returning to Henrietta Street, it’s quite on my way.”