The Hired Wife (28 page)

“But it’s the
truth! Besides she doesn’t mind, do you Lady Mary?”

“No.” Mary felt
like she was rebelling against the order of the Universe as she met
the father’s disproving eyes. “Your son means no disrespect.”

“Perhaps not,
but he knows b-better! How many times have I t-told you, that truth
does not always deserve or require a public exhibition?”

“At least a
thousand…” Cosmo Smirke sighed in despair, “…but truth always slips
off the tongue before one can think to stop it. I’ll never find a
wife unless she only has one leg and its resting on a dusty
shelf!”

“Cosmo Xavier!
That is not an appropriate thought to share in genteel
company.”

“Well what
thoughts am I allowed to share in genteel company Papa? One can’t
discuss the weather for hours on end!”

“Yes one
can.”

At nineteen,
Cosmo was starting to doubt his father’s omnipotence. “Papa, if all
you ever talk about with the ladies is the weather it’s no surprise
you haven’t found a wife yet. They probably all think you’re a
bore! How did your search go this time? Did that friend of Aunt
Agnes turn out to be a frightful hairy Amazon?” Choking back
laughter, Mary’s eyes slid upwards toward the beautiful Lord
against her will. He was staring at the ceiling with a pale
horrified expression that clearly revealed a wish to disappear.

Mary couldn’t
bear to see the man striped emotionally naked by his children. “Why
don’t you two go look down the hill and see if they’ve found her?
I’m sure your father is capable of protecting me.” The two young
men eyed their father for permission. It was granted with a look
and they were running from the room. Mary waited until his sons
were out of earshot before getting up and bravely walking over to
the tall man staring at the chandelier. “How long have you been in
the saddle?”

The frightening
black eyes reluctantly met hers. “First light.”

“You must be
shattered. You should rest.”

“This place
isn’t safe for my children.”

“And if
Morley’s dead? You could stay the night and leave in the morning
after a bath. It’ll make your journey far more pleasant. My husband
isn’t going to hurt your sons.” The black eyes look unconvinced.
“You must do what you think best…” Mary forgot her companion as she
suddenly felt pulled towards the door. Marshall needed her.
Gathering up her skirts she ignored her sore stomach and ran.

“Madam!” She
couldn’t hear the tall man hurry after her as the sound of her
heart thundered in her ears and tears filled her eyes. Something
terrible had happened.

Out of breath,
Marshall’s chest and throat were burning as he stared in disbelief
at the horrifying scene. Marshall had seen numerous dead bodies,
but Henry’s remains made him shudder. The bloated, pale corpse lay
well above the shore line on its back, like a gruesome offering to
the God of nature. The body had been desecrated; Morley’s manhood
was gone. Only a patch of torn flesh gave evidence to its existence
while hungry rooks had scavenged an easy meal leaving empty eye
sockets. Marshall’s empty stomach heaved as he looked away to his
sister’s pink dress to find more horror.

A few feet away
from Morley’s corpse the youngest Smirke was on his knees clutching
Alyce to his chest as if his warmth would bring her back to life.
The empty wine bottle rolled back and forth in soft lapping waves
telling a tale; Alyce had discovered her husband’s body, screamed
in horror and drunk the whole bottle. Or had she drunk the bottle
in celebration at Henry’s demise and then screamed for help? Only
the top half of her person was wet. She’d fallen head first into
the shallows unable to retreat. Marshall felt his throat constrict
with a silent scream for Mary as it sunk in that Henry had claimed
one last victim. He felt numb and nauseous. Out of the corner of
his eyes he could see Emily sobbing hysterically into Buckingham’s
shoulder. All three young Smirkes looked pale and upset as they
ogled the dead woman in disbelief. Marshall could only stand there.
Why had he thought his sisters would be safe from a man like the
Earl of Morley? How had he believed the man’s lies for so many
years? Marshall felt the words, ‘gullible fool’ ricochet in his
brain.

Exhausted, his
shoulders slumped as he contemplated the unthinkable prospect of
burying his sister. Alyce never liked the cold; she’d hate lying in
the family crypt. But perhaps she wasn’t dead. He cocked his head
as he stared at the unmoving profile. It looked like Alyce, but it
wasn’t Alyce. Perhaps it was a stranger wearing a similar dress. If
they chaffed her hands and cheeks some colour might return; she
might lose that grey pallor. She might tell them that Alyce was in
her room sleeping.

The young
Smirke clutching her was crying into her hair; Alyce would have
enjoyed being wept over by a beautiful young man. Marshall knew it
was proper that he take charge of her body. It was his
responsibility to carry her back up the hill, but his limbs refused
to move. He watched the two eldest Smirke brothers wrap their arms
around their youngest brother before the tallest gently tugged the
body into his own arms and started towards the steps. Alyce
appeared to resist her gallant by playing dead, her arm flopping in
rhythm with George Smirke’s gait. The young men were followed by
Buckingham carrying Emily in a similar pink, her arm wrapped around
Bucky’s neck.

Marshall’s eyes
swivelled back towards Henry’s mutilated body. The more he stared
at it the less he understood why he’d ever thought of the man as a
brother. Even without eyes Henry appeared to be leering. Marshall
jumped in shock as someone touched his arm. His head jerked to the
left to find Mary and the rest of the Smirke family ogling the dead
man in horror. “Merry?” His dry eyes misted with relief. “Don’t
look at it…” The sentiment was echoed by Lord Adderbury as he
silently commanded Cosmo and Charles to follow their brothers back
to the house. Marshall covered his face as a cold breeze blew over
the lake overwhelming his nose with the sickly scent of death.
Shivering in his shirtsleeves, Marshall felt Mary’s warm hand
squeeze his arm assuring him he was still alive. “I told her Morley
wasn’t husband material; she just laughed like a hussy.” The words
were lifeless. “My father…I promised him I’d take good care of
her…”

“Marshall…”
Mary’s pinched nose changed her voice to a high nasal pitch. “…she
was murdered, just like the rest of Morley’s brothers. You can’t
blame yourself…you were next on his list.”

“It’s still my
fault. I allowed that…that dead thing to socialise with my sisters!
What was I thinking?”

Mary squeezed
his arm. “You believed his lies; so did Alyce.”

“I knew he was
a heartless rake hell, but I didn’t think he’d hurt one of my
sisters. I should have done more. I should have ordered him to stay
away…”

“If Morley had
designed to ruin your sister with her assistance, there was little
you could do to stop it. If you’d banned him, he’d have found a
way. He’d have taken his pleasure and then either abandoned Alyce
or ensured she died in an accident.”

“No. I could
have protected her! I could have pummelled that thing senseless
years ago!”

“Alyce wanted
to marry Morley and she did; you couldn’t save Alyce from
herself!”

Marshall
grimaced as part of him wanted to believe it to ease the guilt. “I
could have tried.”

“What could you
have done?”

“I could have
killed him.”

“You believed
his lies Marshall. You thought you could trust him.”

“I was a
gullible idiot!”

“You thought he
was your friend; we all make mistakes.”

“My mistake has
killed my sister…” The words boomed across the lake and faintly
echoed off the surrounding hills. “I could have ordered my carriage
and carried you all away! After what he did to you…I should have
taken you to safety. Alyce would be alive…”

“Alyce
considered herself the Marchioness of Morley; she wouldn’t have
come.” Mary glanced towards the picnic basket packed for two.
“Thankfully no one else drank out of that bottle.” There was a long
paused and then Mary leaned against him. “Lord Adderbury says he’s
sorry for your loss.”

Turning his
head, Marshall was forced to acknowledge the tall beautiful man
next to Mary. Compassionate black eyes caused a burning shame that
almost made him forget his sister was dead. “Adderbury…Henry was
such a liar. I feel so awful; I didn’t know you had a stammer.” The
tall man accepted the apology with a silent nod.

Mary slipped
her arm around her husband’s waist, “Someone will have to tell Lady
Morley that her son is dead.”

“She’ll think I
killed him; I wish I’d killed him.” Marshall sighed in regret as he
glanced down at the slender woman pressing herself up against him
and came to his senses. “Mary…what are you doing down here? You’re
supposed to be resting.”

“You needed
me.”

“You should
have stayed in the house where you were safe…don’t look at that
mutilated devil.” He physically turned her towards the steps and
inhaled a lungful of air as if putting the dead behind him made it
easier to breathe, but he merely coughed in disgust as the scent of
death filled his mouth. Clutching Mary he started back towards the
stairs secretly wishing someone would pick him up and carry him up
to the house. The silent Lord Adderbury slowly walked beside him,
the man’s dusty black telling its own story of frantic haste to
protect his loved ones.

The arm around
his waist kept his feet moving one in front of the other as he
tried to console his aching heart with the fact that the Earl of
Morley would never hurt his beloved Mary. He’d be able to sleep at
night knowing his wife was safe, even if his sister was…dead. One
nightmare had been exchanged for another.

Stopping at the
bottom of the stairs he watched as Alyce reached the top of the
hill. For once he was grateful for his impaired hearing; he
wouldn’t have to listen to his Aunt Beatrice screaming at the sight
of her favourite niece limp and lifeless. His resentment of the old
woman’s interference reminded him that he wasn’t the only gullible
fool responsible for his sister’s death.

Marshall
grimaced at the thought of having to inform Lady Morley that her
youngest son had murdered his unwanted wife after being poisoned by
his manservant. The old woman’s reaction would be understandably
hysterical. Buckingham was the host; he’d be able to tell her the
facts without bursting into tears. He’d listen to the old woman’s
heartache and refuse to let her view her son’s body. Marshall
shuddered again as he thought of the cold flesh missing important
parts. It was the most awful thing he’d ever seen; those empty
sockets and that unsightly bloody patch where Henry’s male member
had once protruded. The monster who’d once taken pleasure in
causing pain had been unmanned; nature had executed its own form of
justice. Morley’s missing parts would become the latest ondit. The
thought gave Marshall a minute amount of pleasure. Justice would be
served; Henry Fitzalan’s corpse would become a source of public
amusement.

Cecil Smirke
silently noted his brother’s arms quivering from fatigue as they
crossed the drive towards the door. “George…let me have a turn at
looking like a hero. You’ve carried her all the way up the
hill.”

George
willingly stopped to pass on the burden as Robert pushed past
Cecil. “She hated you; I’ll carry her!”

Cecil met
George’s exasperated expression before easily dragging Robert back.
“Stand away! I’ll carry Alyce while you thank God we kept you from
attending her poisonous picnic. If that doesn’t convince you to
listen to us nothing will!”

“Papa’s here,
you can’t tell me what to do!”

“No, but I
could tell Papa you had an assignation with a married woman. I
could tell him how you nearly ended up travelling home in a coffin.
Now shut up and let me carry Alyce to the drawing room. You can be
Romeo and weep over her on the sofa.”

Black eyes
burned with apprehension. “I didn’t have an assignation with
Alyce…”

“Of course not;
that’s why you went straight to the Chinese folly like a bee to the
hive. She must have been irritated to find those two dead servants
had trumped her. If she’d had any sense she’d have noticed the
similarity of the empty bottle lying next to them and the one
Morley had sent her. No man would remove his breeches, drink poison
and then start making love in the hope he wouldn’t die before he
could finish. No, if he was set on killing himself he’d drink the
poison afterwards. And that poor woman; if she wasn’t dead she’d
die of embarrassment. Alyce was an idiot!”

Robert bit his
lip and let Buckingham pass carrying the still sobbing Emily out of
earshot into the house. “Have some respect for the dead!”

“Alyce did
nothing, but sneer at me. Why should I respect her?”

“She’s dead.
Being respectful is the decent thing to do!”

“Decent? Is
that what you call bedding another man’s wife?”

“I didn’t bed
her and the marriage was illegal.”

“Yes and you
were going to bed her anyway.”

“No I
wasn’t.”

“I’ll wager if
I were to search your pockets I’d find an impediment to
procreation. Do you know what would have happened if you’d been
found in a drunken stupor with Alyce in your arms? If you both
hadn’t been poisoned, Papa would have made you marry her. You’d
have been stuck with her for life.”

Robert snorted
in contempt. “I made it clear she wasn’t marriage material.”

“Papa wouldn’t
have seen it that way.”

George’s face
was red as he hissed through clenched teeth, “Cecil, I’m going to
drop her…” Cecil pushed his baby brother out of the way and scooped
the dead woman into his arms. “…my arms feel like Indian
rubber.”