Chapter 19
Jason led Sophia up the short path to the door of the Duke and Duchess of Kirkbourne’s townhouse the next evening. He did not really know the Duke though he had seen him in White’s Gentleman’s club. Until he had married the pretty but crippled Lady Sarah Steele, he had been a rather dour chap, but now he always had a spring in his step and a much more pleasant demeanour.
Even through his greatcoat and other thick clothing, he felt Sophia’s fingers tighten as they lay atop his arm.
“All will be well,” he whispered.
“I do hope so,” she whispered back. And they were following Lord and Lady Beattie into the house.
The Duke and Duchess were at the entrance to the drawing room, meeting visitors. The footman announced them as they handed their invitations to him.
“Lord Jason Rose-Reid. Lady Rutherford.”
“Why did you ask him to say your given name?”
“They may have thought me my younger brother since he would now be Lord Rose-Reid instead of Lord Jerome.”
“Oh, of course.”
“Lord Rose-Reid, welcome to our home,” the pretty Duchess said from her chair. He crouched low to meet her gaze and bow appropriately over her hand.
“The pleasure is all mine, Duchess.” She chuckled quietly then looked up at Sophia.
“He is very handsome Lady Rutherford. You were very lucky that he happened to be at Lord Whitsnow’s estate.”
“Indeed I was Your Grace. It is lovely to see you again.” Sophia curtseyed and the Duchess bowed her head graciously in reply.
“Reid, now you have stopped flirting with my wife, I hear you have business with Mr Benson tonight. He is standing over there, rather ashen-faced if I may say so.” He nodded in the direction of the fireplace and as he had said, a young pock-marked man with a nose which was far too big for his face stood with his mouth wide open.
“Good Evening, Your Grace,” Sophia said. “May I see Mr Benson?”
“Of course.” He stepped back. “Good news Mr Benson. It seems the dead bodies you saw in the road were not your relatives and Lord Rose-Reid.”
“It is interesting that we too were shot at though,” said Jason walking farther into the room, knowing that Sophia was behind him. “Lady Rutherford’s lady’s maid was shot in the back and a lead ball grazed my arm. It hurt like the very devil and bled badly but it is healing well. Lady Rutherford’s maid is very lucky to be alive. Had that lead ball entered her a quarter of an inch either direction, she would be dead.”
“I cannot believe you were shot on the same road as I saw that couple shot in cold blood. Oh, how terrible.”
“Come, Benson, you are not trying to tell us you were not in the carriage of men who shot at us.”
“Me?” Benson looked astounded. He really should be on the stage at Drury Lane. “My lord, how could you suggest such an awful thing?”
“Mr Benson, you have been trying to kill me and my son since he drew breath and you found out he was a boy and would claim his father’s title. Because you want that title for yourself. You chased me out of London and from the Rutherford Estate. I then had to leave Lord Whitsnow’s estate with Lord Rose-Reid as my protector and even then we were not safe. You want Oscar dead so you shall become the Viscount.”
“Lady Rutherford, this is preposterous. Beattie, you should have your sister admitted to Bedlam. She is clearly suffering from the recent loss of my uncle or from some… malady that ladies suffer from after their confinement. Now control yourself, my lady or I shall ask the Duke to remove you.”
Jason laid a hand on Sophia’s shoulders. He had been looking at the other occupants of the room as their exchange had gone on. No one believed Sophia. No one believed him. It was odd, because Benson was not a peer and was not heir to a peerage unless Oscar died.
“Come sit down with the Duchess and have a cup of tea. We shall not be forced to leave.” He kept his voice low so only she could hear. Emily came to her and drew her to a seat. The men drew into a circle and Beattie, the Duke and he watched the ladies. Sophia, to give her credit remained stoic and as the next hour passed, Jason began to relax.
∞ ∞ ∞
Sophia was reeling from her encounter with Mr Benson. She had always known he was a scoundrel, but had not realised that he was an accomplished liar. She had almost believed him herself. But for the fear that he instilled in her every time she glanced at him. A couple of times she had caught his gaze and the look he had given her was less than friendly.
Jason must have gone into the library for a few minutes with the men, but she was really quite desperate to visit the necessary and could not interrupt him to go home. She spoke quietly to the Duchess who directed her to the correct place with a smile.
“Would you like me to send a maid with you?”
“Oh no. I am sure I shall be fine.”
The Duchess had looked unsure, but surely Mr Benson would not try anything in a crowded house.
After visiting the necessary, she was walking past an open door when Mr Benson appeared out of it.
“The Duchess has a beautiful harpsichord. Would you like to see it?”
“Um, no. No thank you. I am not particularly musical.”
“That is a shame,” he said. “It is quite beautiful. Just like you, Aunt Sophia.” He raised his hand and ran the back if his fingers down her cheek. She tried to step back, but he caught her by the wrist with his free hand. “You know, Uncle Octavius spoke to me the week before he died. He had a plan for the estate should he die before he had managed to get you with child. He feared he was barren and you may be blamed for the lack of children and therefore no one would want you. His idea was for you and me to marry and carry on the line between us. That would ensure your comfort. Even though you have had Oscar, I see no reason not to carry out his wishes. I could be his guardian. We could run the estate together.”
“But you could never be Viscount and my brother is his trustee and guardian.”
“That could be transferred.”
“No, it could not. Legally it has to be someone not in line to the title. While Oscar lives, you are the heir presumptive—at least until he has his own son.”
“You are insistent on making things difficult, are you not, you arrogant little lightskirt?”
“How dare you? You know very little of me.”
“I know you lifted your skirts within a day of arriving at Whitsnow’s. I saw you and Reid in the stable. It was disgusting. Riding his thigh in a wanton fashion.”
“You watched us. You knew I was there?”
“Of course I did. I followed you when you escaped Rutherford estate. Your horse left a trail in the snow and once in the forest, in the mud. I watched as you lay in the snow, hoping you would both just expire. Then Reid found you and rescued you. Damned interfering busybody.”
“So you admit you wanted me and Oscar dead.”
Benson glanced around, checking no one was in the area. “If you do not marry me, it will still happen. If you do marry me, I may still allow your son to live if we can come to an agreement. Think about it Sophia. We could be good together. You are quite pretty.” He leaned forward and leered down her gown at her décolletage. “I do like a lady with a decent bosom. Hmm, you could inspire a cockstand in anyone. Till later. I shall call for your answer tomorrow.”
Then he disappeared into the library.
Sophia moved on shaky legs and sat with the Duchess again.
“You look a little unwell, my lady. Should I send someone to fetch Lord Rose-Reid or your brother?” asked the red-haired wife of the Duke.
“No, please do not concern yourself, Your Grace. I had a rather unpleasant encounter with Mr Benson.”
“Oh my. Please, let me fetch the men.”
“Oh, no. Please it would only cause more problems and you saw what happened earlier. The last thing I need is for the men to start slapping gloves in each other’s faces.
“Ah, yes. You would not want your husband to be to end up in Newgate, I suppose. Please, call me Sarah. I feel like we could become fast friends. Your sister-in-law calls me my given name, as does the new Duchess of Hartsmere.”
“That is the Countess of Cindermaine’s new title, is it not?”
“Yes. She was supposed to marry Cindermaine’s brother but there was a big scandal because Gabriel, I mean Cindermaine was pretending to be his half-brother Cedric all through the Christmas season. Eventually she found out, but they had fallen in love and Gabriel did not want her to marry Cedric, who is a brute.”
“Oh I did hear a little about it from Emily.”
“I shall invite you for tea when she is here and we can tell you all about it. She is terribly sweet for an American.”
“I would enjoy that.”
They talked for a short while about the goings-on in Mayfair since Sophia had fled town, until eventually the men came out of the library smelling faintly of tobacco and port.
“Is Mr Benson not with you?” she asked Jason.
“Benson? No I haven’t seen him since I went into the library. Is he not here?”
“No. He proposed marriage to me but when I declined he turned rather unpleasant. I thought he had joined the gentlemen in the library.”
“He must have left,” said the Duke. “Perhaps he has just gone home.”
“Perhaps but I would rather return to Lord Beattie’s townhouse and check on Oscar just in case.”
Sophia sprang to her feet, a coldness settling in her belly.
“You do not think…”
“I do not know. Probably not, my love but we should check. Come.”
“Should I come…” began the Duke.
“No. Look after your guests. Best not to cause more gossip if this is a false alarm.”
They hurried out into the street, not even waiting for their great coat and pelisse. It was freezing outside but Sophia barely felt it.
“There is Beattie’s carriage. Nate will tell him what has happened. He shall come in my carriage.”
They hopped in before the coachman could get down to arrange the step. “Lord Beattie’s house now. He will know to take my carriage. And hurry.”
“Aye my lord.”
It seemed to take forever to travel the few short streets to her brother’s town house, but she clung to Jason’s arm all the way, feeling as if his presence was her only lifeline. What would she do if something happened to Oscar? She loved him with all her heart. He was the centre of her world. How could she have left him in the care of servants? Was she a terrible mother? How had it come to this?
“I shall never forgive myself if he has come to harm,” she said in a whisper.
“No darling. You cannot think like that. Surely he shall be in his cradle, gurgling away—with a disgusting-smelling clout that has to be changed immediately.”
She bit her lip. “I do hope you are correct.”
As the carriage slowed, Jason was jumping out of it then turning to grab her by the waist and lift her to the ground. There was no ladylike walk to the house. Sophia lifted her skirts and ran to the door. When she lifted the knocker of the door, in itself unusual because the butler usually saw the carriage approach, the door started to open by itself. She pushed on it and it swung open. Grantham, the old butler was lying face-down, with a bleeding wound on his bald pate, just inside the door.
“Oh God.” It was all Sophia could manage as she grabbed the wall and headed inside.