An Aria Writ In Blood (The Underwood Mysteries Book 4) (23 page)

“Of course,” interjected Gil thoughtfully, “That lack of forethought merely confirms Toby’s and Giovanni’s assertion that the murder was not premeditated, but an act of passion and an attempt to protect Luisa from harm.  If Giovanni had planned this killing, he would have used Peter’s own razor and left it to be found by the body.”

“I can’t believe my Uncle Peter was capable of behaving the way you describe,” burst out Cara suddenly, as though she could no longer keep silent, “He was a sweet man who would never, ever have struck a woman – or anyone else for that matter!”

Gil laid a calming hand on hers, and the others looked silently at her, making no comment.  Certainly the gentlemen had all witnessed Peter’s murderous rages and had seen with their own eyes the damage he had inflicted on his young nephew in his club back in London.  It was no surprise that Cara had never seen any such display, for no gentleman would subject a gently-born lady to viewing a bout of fisticuffs, but even so, she must know that Peter was no angel.  Luisa still bore the bruise he had given her, though it had faded a good deal.

“Cara is right,” said Luisa firmly, “Peter was a good man.  Anything he did to me, or to Trentham, was because he was driven to it by unbearable pressures.”  Impulsively she crossed the room and took Cara’s hand, “My dear one, remember Peter kindly.  He was not himself that night.  Toby was right about that.  He had drunk too much, and I had presented him with a
fait accompli.
  Given time he would have calmed down and come to accept the inevitable – unfortunately, my hot-headed Papa never allowed him that time – and believe me, no one regrets that more bitterly than I!  I know it must be hard for you to hear this, but I did love Pietro – very much indeed.  And I did my best to be a good wife, but I should never have married him.  I knew from the first that he would not be able to cope with the knowledge of my past.  I was young and in love, and I thought ‘love conquers all’, but it does not and it cannot.”

Cara looked into her eyes for a long time before she seemed convinced that Luisa spoke the truth.  Then she began to cry and Luisa drew her, sobbing herself, into her plump embrace.

*

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

(“Errare Humanum Est” – To err is human)

It took only a two-line note from Mr. Underwood to William, Earl Lovell, to send him flying from the side of the sickbed of his injured son and back to his Brighton villa.  The words were simple enough, but they engendered panic and dismay. 

“
Luisa is going back to Italy to join her father.”

He arrived in Brighton in the late afternoon, his horses lathered and blowing, and ran up the steps of his seaside home in a manner which owed much to haste and very little to his usual innate dignity.

Bursting through the front door he began roaring for his servants, his guests and most of all his sister-in-law.

Not unnaturally almost the entire household descended upon him, Underwood, with a deplorable lack of tact, demanding to know where the fire was.

“Don’t joke with me, Underwood, I am most definitely not in the mood.  Where is that jade who married my poor brother?”

At that moment Luisa, her bulk beginning to become obvious, sailed slowly, and with great serenity, down the stairs.

“My dear Will, did I hear you ask for me?  That is
buono
, because I also wanted to speak to you.   Unfortunately, my darling Pietro has left his affairs in a sad disarray and I shall have to ask you to lend me some money.”

This calm request almost sent the Earl into an apoplexy, but Luisa merely observed him silently as he spluttered and formed half-finished sentences.  Seeing the danger signs, most of the servants slunk away, but Underwood, Verity, Cara and Gil all remained.

“Papa, calm yourself,” said Cara, taking his arm, “Let us go into the drawing room and discuss this privately.  Do you wish all of Brighton to be privy to our affairs?”

It was this, more than anything else, which made William take a deep breath and bite back the tirade which sprang to his lips.  Naturally he did not wish his family to become a titbit on the lips of his peers, but more so he did not want his name bandied about every common alehouse which his servants frequented in their free time.  With a glare cast at Luisa, he allowed himself to be coaxed into the drawing room, followed by the others, Luisa bringing up the rear with an infuriatingly placid expression on her face.

Presently, with everyone seated and the rest of the world shut out, the debate began – or perhaps the word debacle might more accurately describe what followed.  The Earl barely waited for Underwood to close the door behind Luisa and take his own seat before he tore into the young Italian woman.

“If you think I will give you a penny piece, my girl, you have lost your reason!  You will stay in England, and that is the end of the matter.”

Luisa seemed bored.  She spread her lovely, plump little hands before her and examined them minutely, adjusting her large sapphire ring so that it was perfectly straight upon her finger, “Is that your final word?” she asked quietly.

“It most certainly is!”

“Very well, I shall ask that nice Mr. Jameson to come and see me again,”

They all looked blankly at her, but none more so than the Earl, who was completely mystified by this remark, “Who the devil is Jameson?”

“He is the man who came to see me last week – he works for a
giornale
– a …what is that in English, Mr. Underwood?”

“A newspaper,” supplied Underwood softly, casting a swift glance in the direction of his host.  He had good reason to be concerned.  The Earl looked as though he had suddenly been robbed of the power to breathe unaided.  His face was a most interesting shade of puce, but Luisa looked up at him and was unmoved by his obvious distress.

“Yes,” she pursued, “he said his newspaper would pay me a great deal of money if I wanted to ‘share my story with the nation’ – I think that was how he put it.  Of course, if you will not give me the money to go home, I must have it from somewhere else.”

Gil, who had been the epitome of forbearance from the very first, felt that it was time for him to intervene, “Luisa, you could not be so wicked!  How can you even think about hurting those who love you?”

She turned furiously flashing eyes upon him and spat viciously, “These people do not love me!  They never wanted Pietro to marry me.  They never wanted me here and now I want to go home, they won’t let me do that either.”

Her words seemed to hit the Earl like hammer blows.  At first he looked stunned by the outburst, then angry, swiftly followed by guilt.  With a super-human effort he gathered his wits and tried to speak as calmly, quietly and kindly as he could, though he was still battling to control his panic and fury, “My dear Luisa, you could not be more wrong!  I cannot speak for others, but I knew how much Peter loved you and I could never have denied him the happiness you brought him.  Now, we must both put aside our anger for I have something very important to say to you and you must listen and understand.”

She looked mutinous, but she folded her lips as though to vow silence until he had spoken.

                He crossed the room and took her hand, “My dear, I apologise for having spoken roughly to you.  It was unforgivable and my only excuse must be the strain of the past few days.  Do you accept my apology?”

She nodded briefly, suddenly aware that he greatly resembled his brother at his most charming when he ceased to act the part of an Earl and became a man.

“Good.  Now I must tell you that Trentham is most gravely ill.  The doctors think that he will recover, but until we are sure that is true, then you must remember that the child you are carrying, should it be a boy, is not only Peter’s heir, but my own, and until the day he marries and produces his own son, Trentham’s.  That is why I cannot allow you to leave the country.”

She swallowed deeply, “I had not thought of that, but it can change nothing.  Trentham will get better – and I want to go home!”  This last was almost a cry of anguish and her lip trembled as she tried to hold back her tears, “You cannot stop me,” she added fiercely as his face showed no softening of his resolve.

                He released her hand and straightened his slightly bent back.  Squaring his shoulders, he looked very severe, very much the master of the house, “You are forcing me to contradict you, Luisa.  The truth of the matter is that I
can
and will prevent you from leaving these shores.”

“How can you?  I am a free woman – and not even a subject of your King!”

“No, but the child you carry is.  If you insist upon this, I will not hesitate to use the full force of the law against you.  I can ensure you are denied permission to leave England until your baby is born, then I can have the child removed from your care.”

Her sallow skin took on the hue of beeswax as she looked up at him, “You are lying,” she whispered, “You could not … you would not!”

                Now his expression did soften, but it was in pity for her, and not a surrender.

“Sweet child, when you married my brother, you did not marry an ordinary man.  He was not a peasant, and his child is not one of the common herd.  I can promise you that if it is born a girl, then you may return to Italy with my blessing, and with money enough to keep you both in comfort for the rest of your lives.  But if the child is a boy, then he must be raised in a manner fitted to his position in life.  From the moment of his birth he will be Lord Lovell, and thereafter he may very well rise to become an Earl.”

Luisa was reduced in a moment from a strong, determined woman, to a pitiful, sobbing waif.  The tears rolled down her cheeks; “I want to go home!  If I stay here, I will never see my papa again.  I will never hear my mother tongue spoken, never see my countrymen under an Italian sun.  I cannot bear it!  I will die without those things I love.”

“I feel for you, Luisa, please believe that, but I would be failing in my duty to my name and title if I did not ensure the continuation of our noble line.  You have only two choices; either stay here with your son, or go back to Italy without him.”

“But my papa!”

                At the mention of her father, the Earl grew grim; “You cannot expect me to have any sympathy for the man who murdered my brother.  And if you loved Peter as you claim, I venture to suggest you ought to feel the same way.”

She buried her face in her hands, “I hate him for that – of course I do!  But he is my father; always he was there to protect me.  Do you really think Peter was the first man who sought to control me, to take what I did not want to bestow?  Giovanni Donati is a good man.  No matter what you think of him, he did everything for my sake.  And now we must both pay the price.  This is the first time in my life I have been separated from him – and the pain of that loss is unbearable.  My husband has gone, my father has been torn from me – and now you want to take my baby too.  Is there any reason for me to go on living?”

                Cara could bear no more.  Her affection for Luisa was genuine and strong.  With a sob she joined her aunt-by-marriage on the sofa and flung her arms about her.

“Don’t speak of such things, Luisa, dearest one.  You shall not be parted from your baby, I swear it!  Papa, you must not continue with this.  It is inhuman.  Luisa is right; she has been through enough.  Cousin Thomas has been your next heir after Trentham and Peter – let him go on being so!”

“This is purely academic,” Underwood pointed out tersely, finding this display of raw emotion rather embarrassing, “The child may yet be a girl.”

“Then Luisa must stay in England until we know for sure,” said the Earl firmly, none too pleased that his own daughter had spoken against him, but trying vainly to be reasoned and reasonable.

“I can’t stay here in this house,” sobbed Luisa, “The memories are too painful!”

“Naturally not,” he replied with great dignity, “This house will soon be closed for the winter.  We will return to London.”

“I won’t stay with you and your wife,” Luisa was rapidly growing hysterical, “You may not hate me – but she surely does!”

Verity intercepted tactfully, “My dearest Luisa, we would not dream of allowing you to stay in London.  What you need is good, fresh, country air.  Underwood and I would be delighted to offer you the hospitality of Windward House until your baby is born – would we not, my dear?”

Thus appealed to, Underwood looked almost comically startled.  He had been so engrossed in these histrionics, he had failed to notice his wife being so generous with their roof.

“What?”

Before she could reiterate, Gil interjected, “My dear Verity, if Luisa is to stay anywhere, it will be with Cara and myself.  I would not hear of anything else.”

                Verity opened her lips to argue, but a knock upon the door caught all their attention and successfully silenced her for an instant.  The butler entered, “Your pardon, my lord, but Mr. Grantley is here and most insistent that he see you immediately.”

The Earl thought for a moment, then sighed resignedly, “Show him in.  He will have to be faced sooner or later – let it be now.  My nerves could not be any more ravaged than they already are.”

Grantley looked rather startled to be entering a room which held a gathering of this magnitude and evident emotion.  Luisa and Cara were still sobbing quietly on the sofa, the Earl looked harassed and angry, Underwood bemused, and Gil and Verity seemed to have an undisclosed and unresolved issue between them, judging by the glances they exchanged and the one or two quiet asides they indulged in as he walked into the room.

“Your timing could not have been more unfortunate, Grantley,” said the Earl grimly. “What do you want with us?”

“I regret the intrusion, but I have no choice.  Matters have reached a critical point. Giovanni was pursued to the docks, but to no avail.  His ship had sailed by the time we found his place of departure.”

Luisa lifted her head at this news and a heartfelt sigh of relief escaped her.

“Thank God!” she whispered.  Grantley turned his gaze from the Earl and looked directly at her for the first time since he had entered the fray, “Lady Lovell, I am here to arrest you for the aiding and abetting of the absconding of a suspected murderer.”

There was a stark silence, broken only by Luisa’s gasp of shock, then the Earl blustered testily, “Don’t be ridiculous, man!  You cannot arrest the wife of a peer of the realm.”

“I think you will find, sir, that I can and I am going to do so.  You all seem to have very conveniently forgotten that a murder was committed in this house.”

“Indeed we have not forgotten it.  But what purpose can be served by the arrest of Lady Lovell?  It has been proved that she could not have committed the murder herself and she swears she was unconscious when the event occurred.  We have only Toby’s word that the culprit was Giovanni.”

“In the absence of any other evidence, I must take Toby’s accusation seriously – especially in the light of the subsequent disappearance of the suspect…”

Underwood, who had been listening to all this with growing concern, now chose to speak.  He rose to his feet and walked to the empty fireplace, where he laid one hand upon the mantle, “My dear Grantley, how remiss of me.  I had intended to call upon you this very afternoon.  In a mood of pure frustration, I endeavoured to search the room where Lord Peter met his untimely end.  I felt that there was a missing portion from the description of the events that night.  Nothing could really have happened as those involved had claimed.  Someone was lying to cover the misdeeds of others.  I went over the room with a fine toothcomb – and lo and behold, I found what has always been missing.  The weapon.  In a gap between the floorboards and the skirting, I found Peter’s bloodstained razor.  It must have been flung from his hand in a spasm as he breathed his last.  I’m afraid there is no longer any doubt that Lord Peter Lovell took his own life in a fit of remorse as the wife he had beaten senseless lay upon their bed.  Any other tales which have been told were invented merely to keep this fact from becoming public.”