The Viscount and the Virgin (23 page)

‘It is only sons that matter! Our parents fought ferociously over your fate! Did you know that? My mother told me that, not long after you were given to her, Grandfather came storming to the house, demanding you be sent back to your real mother. And my mother ran up to the nursery and held you while the two men went at it hammer and tongs in the hall. She wept because she feared Father would toss you aside as easily as he had tossed aside all the mistresses she'd known about to that date. And once you actually
had
gone, Mother just stuck me in a nursery, and forgot all about me. Married a man old enough to be her father, because he had three sons to replace the ones she'd lost. And because he promised to search for
you.
I trailed along behind my new brothers, doing all I could to earn the tiniest crumb of affection, working my fingers to the bone to earn my place in that family, but when it comes right down to it, nobody has ever cared if I am alive or dead!'

By the time she had finished, she was breathing hard and trembling all over.

‘My, my—' a mocking smile tilted one corner of Stephen's mouth ‘—and you accuse
me
of being bitter.'

He went to the side board, poured two drinks and handed her one across the table. Midge had no idea what it was, but she took a most un lady like gulp of it before
dropping onto her chair like a stone. Stephen sat too, sipping at his own drink with a thoughtful air.

‘You have no more need to hang on the coat-tails of your rich husband, Imo. You could join forces with me.'

‘In your vendetta, you mean?' She shook her head. ‘Oh, no. I cannot feel anything but pity for all the children of the men involved in whatever it was that happened that night.'

Stephen's eyes narrowed.

‘What do you mean,
whatever
happened? Leybourne murdered our father!'

Midge sighed, and pushed the hair back from her face wearily. ‘I am not about to start arguing with you over that. What does it matter now?'

Stephen drained his glass and set it down with quiet deliberation before answering her.

‘I came across a journal written by Lord Narborough. About the events leading up to that night and what happened after wards. The pages dealing with the murder itself are missing.'

‘Are you saying you think he has some thing to hide?' She set her glass down on the table with a frown.

He paused again before answering. ‘You surely do not think he deserves to have done so well out of the whole damned business, do you? Just think, Imo. Out of the three men concerned with breaking the code and catching the spy, only Lord Narborough is left standing. What does that tell you?'

She shook her head in bewilderment.

‘Narborough was the only eye-witness. What kind of man is so eager to give the kind of testimony that was certain to send his avowed friend to the gallows? We
both know where Leybourne was those times he was supposed to have been consorting with enemies of the state.
In bed with your mother!
And Narborough knew that too!' He paused, a nerve jumping in his jaw. ‘At least Leybourne was gentleman enough not to drag her name into it. Narborough had no such qualms!'

She sucked in a breath, a horrible suspicion forming in her mind. ‘This is awful! Mother always said Lord Leybourne could not have done it! He was too much the gentleman to stab another man in a fit of rage…he might have fought a duel…' she pressed her hands to her forehead, breathing hard ‘…and then again, why would he have suddenly switched sides, when he had devoted his life to hunting down enemies of the state? He had no reason! And so much to lose…'

‘Let us not get side-tracked by your mother's opinions,' he sneered. ‘She was no judge of character, was she? She would not have
wanted
to believe she had taken a traitor and murderer to her bed. Just remember this, Imo. The spying stopped after they arrested Leybourne.'

‘That does not prove anything!' she protested. ‘Except perhaps that the real spy became more careful. He was close to being found out. Father told Mother that it was so obvious, a baby could have worked it out. He shook the rattle in her face, and said that was how he was going to break it to them.'

‘Rattle?' said Stephen, mystified.

‘Oh, he had bought a gift for the new baby,' she said, waving her hand dismissively. ‘Lady Verity, as it turned out. But never mind that,' Midge continued. ‘If Lord Narborough was really the murderer, and he deliberately sent Leybourne to the gallows to conceal his own
crime…using his reluctance to bring my mother into the scandal… Oh, how wicked!'

‘You think…Narborough did all that?' Stephen said, his eyes narrowing.

But she scarcely heard him. ‘And his poor family! They lost everything! Who knows how they have been forced to live since then?'

‘Oh, I do,' he said, a malicious smile playing about his mouth. ‘I know where they all are, and exactly how they have been living. The depths to which the son has been forced to stoop. The humiliations that have been heaped on the daughters. Helena is out in the open now, protected by, of all people, Marcus Carlow. But the other girl is working as a paid com pan ion to a titled lady. Under a false name. Imagine that,' he said with evident relish.

Midge went cold inside. ‘Stephen,' she gulped, ‘if her father was a murderer, then justice has already been done. And more than done. But what if he was innocent?'

Stephen's brows drew down into a fierce black scowl.

She waved her arm round the room, des per ate to find some way of preventing him from persecuting a poor girl who had already suffered more than enough.

‘You have done so well for yourself, in spite of all the obstacles fate has thrown in your way. You have the wealth you say should have been yours. And you have earned it all for yourself. You should be proud of what you have achieved. You could live a good life, Stephen, if you would only let the past go!'

‘You understand nothing,' he snapped. ‘I cannot leave
it until my part is played out. It is my destiny. The truth must come out!'

She pounced on that word. ‘If the
truth
is that Leybourne was hanged for a crime he did not commit, then you must not try to punish his children!'

His scowl deepened. ‘What right do you have to come in here and tell me what I should or should not do! You know nothing!'

‘I know that you have to stop harassing the innocent, or you will somehow pay for it!'

He reeled back, as though she had struck him, his face going pale. But before either of them could say another word, they both heard the sounds of raised voices from the hallway.

One of them was all too familiar. ‘Monty,' whispered Midge in horror. How on earth had he managed to find her? And more to the point, why had he bothered?

She clapped her hands to her stomach. The Claremont heir. Oh, how foolish she was to get her hopes up. It was all about the baby she carried, not her!

But her heart was in her mouth as the voices grew more indistinct, and were then replaced by the sound of scuffling boots, slithering on the hall's polished tiles. The man servant wore a knife in his belt! What if he used it! The sound of a body falling with a dull thud to the floor sickened her.

But when the door flew open it was Monty who strode in, tugging down his sleeves and straightening his cravat.

And even though the light of battle still burned in Monty's eyes, Midge sagged down onto her chair with relief.

‘Evening, Hebden.' He nodded curtly to Stephen as
he advanced across the room. Behind him, Midge could see the Indian man servant laid out prone on the hall floor, blood streaming from his nose.

‘How did you manage to find me so quickly?' Stephen replied, looking curious more than anything else, as though it was normal for vengeful husbands to fight their way in during dinner.

‘Left a trail a mile wide,' replied Monty grimly.

Stephen eyed Midge with a frown. ‘I must be getting careless.'

Midge had heard about Monty's many exploits on the battle field, but until this moment, she had never really seen the warrior in him. Now, she quailed at the knowledge that he had fought his way into Stephen's house and disabled an armed opponent, as a direct result of her own misbehaviour.

‘Are you all right?' he growled, his eyes flicking to her brother. ‘Has he harmed you?'

‘Who? What?'

And then he was crunching his way across the broken soup plate, and scooping her up out of the chair and crushing her in a great bear hug.

‘I am so sorry I was not there,' he said, cupping her face in his hands and looking down into her face earnestly. ‘It was selfish of me to leave you. You should not have been all alone when you received such news. My poor, poor love.'

He smoothed back the hair which had inevitably escaped its pins at some point during the evening. In his eyes, she could read nothing now but concern.

And she felt suddenly very guilty.

She had assumed he would be angry, but when had
he ever actually berated her for anything she had done since they had married?

‘I smashed the vase,' she confessed. ‘On purpose.'

‘Don't blame you. Hideous bit of porcelain,' he said in between the kisses he was peppering her face with. ‘Daresay you needed to smash some thing, get ting a letter like that. Especially after what my father put you through.'

‘He told you about that?'

Monty nodded. ‘I would never have left you alone, believe me—' he gripped her upper arms tightly ‘—if I had thought he would turn on you like that. But his attitude towards you, that last night, convinced me he would take the very greatest care of you.'

Some thing inside her melted as she gazed up at him. He was the only person over the past few days to have under stood what made her act as she did. Or even be interested in what drove her. No wonder she loved him!

Stephen had asked her to be his ally, but only as a tool in his twisted quest for what he termed justice. He was fettered by what had happened twenty years ago.

And as for Nick, his mind was so fixed on the glittering career he believed was in his sights, that he had only seen her as a hindrance.

But Monty was here for her, right now.

She leaned into his chest and sobbed, ‘I have been so miserable!'

‘I know, I know,' he said, rocking her.

‘My God,' muttered Stephen darkly. ‘This is turning my stomach.'

Monty started, as though he had for got ten there was anyone else in the room. His face hardened.

‘You will stay away from Midge from now on, do you hear me! How dare you take advantage of her distress to spirit her away!'

‘No! No, Monty, that is not what happened.' She reached up and turned his face towards her own with the palms of her hands. ‘If you must be angry with anyone, it should be with me. If not for Stephen's kindness, I do not know what the result of my folly might have been. He hired a carriage to bring me to London, at
my
request. And then when Nick turned me from his door, he gave me a roof for the night—'

‘I could not believe it when I learned about that,' Monty interjected. ‘He did not even make sure you had the means to get a cab. Anything might have happened to you…a defenceless woman, in a great city like this…'

‘It was not so very far to walk to Stephen's house,' she pointed out. ‘And once I got here, I knew I would be safe. Not that I was afraid. In fact, all I could think of was…'

‘The one remaining brother who was within striking distance.' Monty's face cleared. ‘I understand.'

‘So you see, I did not deliberately disobey you. At least, not yesterday,' she added miserably. ‘And even when Stephen first came to Shevington, I
meant
not to go near him, but…'

‘I know, I know, the twins told me he had tried to get you to speak to him before, and that you would not. I do not deserve such loyalty…'

Uttering an oath, Stephen picked up the decanter and made for the door.

‘No, wait,' said Monty. ‘It is we who should leave.' He tucked Midge in against his shoulder, and held out
his hand. ‘I apologize for misconstruing your intentions. Will you shake hands with me?'

Stephen eyed the out stretched hand with con tempt, then levelled a strange look at his dishevelled, tear-stained sister.

‘You did not misconstrue my intentions. Give that girl enough rope, and she will hang herself.'

Midge flinched and paled, but then lifted her chin and said, ‘Thank you for your hospitality, anyway. I know that you have no great love for me any more, but…' She trailed off, her eyes wounded and confused.

‘It was fated—'

‘Stuff and nonsense!' said Monty. ‘From my reading of the situation, you deliberately chose the worst possible moment to come forward and make yourself known to a woman who would have welcomed you with open arms at any time! Do you know what I think?' he said, picking Midge up in his arms and striding towards the door. ‘Stephen, I think you are Kit Hebden all over again.'

He paused in the doorway, to look back at the shambles Midge had managed to make of what he could see had once been a neat little dining room.

‘I don't know who killed your father, but I would not be a bit surprised to learn that there were half a dozen decent men queuing up for the pleasure of despatching the scoundrel.' Their eyes met and held for a few tense seconds.

Then Monty nodded, seeing the Gypsy had understood his veiled threat, and strode into the hall, pausing by the prone body of the Indian man servant.

‘Your father had a beautiful wife,' he said, looking down at Midge, who had put her arms round his neck, ‘who loved him, but he was so cruel that he drove her
into the arms of another man. He had friends,' he said, looking at Stephen again, ‘who admired his intellect, but he despised them, and went out of his way to do them down. Hal told me you used to play together as children. But now, you do all that is within your power to plague him and his family. It has to stop, Hebden, do you hear me?'