The Blackmailed Beauty Read online

  As she had stood there, Willa noticed John’s arms were not actually embracing her cousin. They hung loosely at his side while her arms wrapped around his neck. Also, his eyes were open as Claire kissed him. She wondered if the kiss was one sided.

  Her foot had stepped on something, and she had bent to pick it up – a piece of vellum identical to the one she had intercepted begging her father to attend to Claire in the library. Flipping it open, she had quickly read her cousin’s words asking the earl to meet her there.

  This seemed to her like an attempt on her cousin’s part to compromise the earl. Her earl! Yes, she knew instantly this was the man she wanted. She was jealous, envious, and angry at Claire for her actions. Then she had seen the duke, and she suddenly understood how the poor man felt. It was there for everyone to see. Willa knew she was little better off herself.

  Taking action, and bringing her cousin home had felt good, but she had found it difficult to speak with her. She did love Claire, but she failed to understand why she had behaved as she had. Hoping the morning would bring clarity, Willa crawled into bed and waited for sleep to come. When it did, it was restless, full of vivid images and dreams.

  “Willa… Willa,” Claire was shaking her in her dreams. “Willa!”

  Willa wanted to slap her. She reached out, “You, you…”

  “Wake up.” Claire’s voice came again, penetrating the fog of the dream better this time.

  Her eyes fluttered open. There was her cousin, leaning over her, shaking her in the darkness.

  “Huh?” she struggled to pull herself up in bed. “What time is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Everything,” Claire said. “It’s not yet dawn but I must tell you something. I can’t live if I do not.”

  Willa, now further awake, sat up. “What is it, Claire?” recognizing the seriousness in her cousin’s face.

  “I’ve behaved horribly,” Claire began, and Willa did not interrupt her to disagree. “I have to tell you why.”

  This brought Willa fully awake. She needed to know why. “Please, I would like to know.”

  “First you must promise me something.” Claire hesitated for a moment. “My future and the future of my family are at stake, and you must promise me you will tell no one. You cannot tell your father, your mother, my parents, my sisters, Lord Roydon, the duke. Not anyone, unless I agree to it.”

  Willa decided immediately how serious Claire was, it was clear something or someone had caused much distress in her life. “I promise,” she whispered, knowing she meant it.

  Claire sat back and hugged her knees. “I’ll start from the beginning.”

  “Yes, please.”

  “A fortnight before I came to London,” Claire began, “I took a walk in the bower. You know the little one on the far side of the church.”

  Willa nodded but remained silent.

  “I heard a voice behind me, and I turned to find Viscount Pitt there.”

  “Viscount Pitt?” Willa queried unsure of the man’s identity.

  “Yes, he is the son of the Earl of Berwick and is Lady Regina Norton’s brother. He’s a known rake and libertine.”

  “Oh,” Willa replied, a sudden sense of dread sliding over her.

  “And he…” Claire faltered. She took a deep breath, and Willa saw she was deeply troubled by the next part of the story. Leaning ahead, she took her cousin’s cold hands in her warmer ones, rubbing them gently. It seemed to do the trick for Claire continued.

  “He attacked me,” she got out. “It was awful, Willa. He kissed me over and over, and he stuck his hideous tongue in my mouth, and he… he ripped my gown and put his hand here,” she watched as Claire pulled a hand free to hover over her left breast. The look of fear and suffering in her face was beyond any Willa had seen in her lifetime.

  “Oh, Claire, Claire,” she whispered, tears for her cousin springing to her eyes. She dared not think about what must come next.

  “I got away,” Claire said, with some pride reflected in her voice. “I hit him with my knee, like my father once told me to. I did it so hard he fell to the ground and started to vomit. And then I ran.” Claire looked up at her with a small smile on her lips. “Oh, Willa, I have never run so fast in my whole life. I barely touched the ground with my feet. It was as if the angels were carrying me home posthaste.”

  Relief flooded through Willa. “I am glad. I almost did not want to know the rest,” she said, “I feared for you so.”

  “But I dropped my shawl, and the next day when I was at the church, Lady Regina returned it to me. She was there with the duke, Lord Roydon, and Miss Penworthy. They asked for a tour of the church and Father gave them one. During the tour, Lady Regina took me out to the graveyard and told me she had seen it all. Willa, she did not try to stop it. She allowed her brother to attack me.”

  “I have never liked her,” Willa interjected. “She must be truly evil.”

  “It gets worse,” Claire said. “She blackmailed me. She told me her father wants her to marry Lord Roydon, and his father wanted him to marry her, as well. She does not want to. She says she loves someone else.”

  “Love?” Willa spat out. “How can someone like her love anyone but herself?”

  Claire shook her head. “I have often wondered,” she said, "but she told me I must convince the earl to marry me. If he does so, her father will let her marry the man of her choice.”

  “Oh,” Willa said, the light suddenly dawning in her head. “That explains so much.”

  “She said if I did not succeed, she would tell all of society her brother and I had been caught in a compromising situation and how her brother would not marry me. I would face ruin. And with my ruin, my sisters and my parents would face utter ruin, as well. My sisters would never be able to marry anyone decent, and we would be reduced to penury because my father would lose his job.”

  “Why she is a, a…” Willa could not think of a bad enough word to use. “…she is a witch!”

  “It gets even worse,” Claire said. “She has seen me several times here in town and has warned me to stay away from the duke, to concentrate all of my energies on the earl. And then, yesterday, when I took Molly and went to the park it was to meet her, for she sent me a note. She told me I had but a fortnight to convince the earl to marry me, and she wanted him to compromise me, and I must set it up.”

  Claire stopped to take a deep breath. “I did so last night, Willa. I begged him to come to the library. I waited for footsteps, as I had to wait until your father arrived to catch us, and then I threw myself at him and kissed him. I did not know what else to do. He was in shock, I am sure. He was so stiff standing there. But it wasn’t Uncle Yale at the door. It was the duke.”

  Claire began to sob. “And, Willa, I think I love him.”

  “The duke?” She found she held her breath as she waited for the answer.

  “Yes. I think I love him, and I think he cares for me, and I know I have hurt him so. At least three times, Willa. How could he ever forgive me for my actions? Oh, I am the most awful person.”

  Willa let out her breath. “No, Claire, you are not. You are scared and frightened, and I can’t blame you because now I am. I am scared for you and for your family.”

  Willa climbed up on her knees and threw her arms around her cousin. “Claire, I can’t imagine what you have gone through. You have been living in the worst kind of nightmare, and I promise, right here and now, I am on your side, and we will think of something to do. Somehow, we will make this right.”

  Claire looked at her and they both began to cry. And then she began to laugh. “Oh, Willa, I wish I had told you sooner.”

  Willa did not say she wished she had known sooner as well. She was not sure because one thing she felt strongly was that her worry over Claire, and the earl’s worry over the duke, had drawn the earl and her closer than they might otherwise have been. That, alone, was worth the small torment Willa had experienced.

  Chapter Twelve

  Claire flopped
back on the bed. “Oh, Willa, what am I going to do?”

  Her cousin looked thoughtful and then answered her. “To be honest, I don’t know, Claire, but we must plan it carefully.”

  As Claire rolled over on her side, she realized she did feel good. Of course the blackmail was still hanging over her head, but now she had a comrade, someone who understood.

  “Let’s try to plan this logically,” Willa suggested. “Even if the ideas aren’t good ones, let’s start now before any more time gets away from you.”

  “Good idea,” Claire said. “My first thought and, of course what I have been trying, was to live up to the terms of the blackmail,” she explained.

  “Yes,” Willa said. “Now I know the whole story, I can see why you’ve flirted and tried to get Lord Roydon’s attention.”

  “It did not work,” Claire said, “because until last night I felt I could call him my friend, but nothing more. And now I cannot even call him a friend.”

  “I trust he is more forgiving than that,” Willa said, “but you did shock him.” She began to giggle. “Now I think about it, it could be quite funny someday for us all.”

  Claire looked over and saw the unexpected merriment in her cousin’s eyes. Replaying the library scene in her mind, her lips quirked, too. “Sadly, you might be correct,” she said as a tiny giggle escaped. She grew serious, “but right now it isn’t.”

  “You’re right, of course. Let’s explore other options. What if you told someone – someone who could bring her to justice?”

  “I thought about it,” Claire said, "but it is their word against mine, and their father is an earl, and mine is a mere vicar. No matter how well-respected he is, I’m afraid it would not work. People always seem to be ready to see the worst in someone, whether or not it is the truth.”

  Willa nodded. “Especially here in London. Many other lives have been ruined by a single incident. And if we told my father, who perhaps has more status, he would become hotheaded and protective, and he would probably call Viscount Pitt out. Although,” she said with a brightened tone, “Father is quite a good shot.” Then Willa frowned. “I would hate to chance it, though,” she finished.

  “And if we told Mama or your mother, they would tell Papa and Uncle Yale and we are back where we started from.”

  “What of the duke?” Willa asked.

  “I have hurt him so much, I am not confident of his feelings. He has never spoken to me of them, and men always seem to talk about duels. I don’t want anyone to fight a duel over me.”

  “The earl? He would have no reason to call the viscount out.” They both thought about this idea and then Willa dismissed it herself. “Unfortunately, he would tell his best friend, the duke, and then we are back to the duel.”

  They were silent for a time, each contemplating idea after idea. Finally, Willa perked up. “You have two weeks, right?”

  “Minus two days,” Claire reminded her.

  “So during this time, what if we look for some way of playing her own game against her?”

  Claire sat up. “What do you mean?”

  “Simply this… we blackmail the blackmailer.”

  She sat up even straighter. “Tell me more.”

  Willa hugged her knees. “If she has this man she loves and wants to marry, she must be meeting him somewhere, sometime. And he must not be appropriate in her father’s eyes, or at least she is afraid he is not.” She studied her toes for a second and then looked back up at Claire. “What kind of man is her father?”

  Claire thought a moment, picturing the Earl of Berwick in her mind. “Well, I’ve always thought he was kind of gruff. And I think he drinks a lot. He is not a generous man, and I don’t see him as a loving father.”

  “So Lady Regina may be afraid to approach him with the idea of marrying the man she loves, especially if he is not what her father wants for her,” Willa suggested.

  “Lord Berwick does seem to be the type who would not want his daughter to marry any less than a peer,” Claire pointed out. “If her Lothario is, say, a poor man or someone who has no title, then this might explain it.”

  “Yes,” Willa said. “So if we can learn who this man is and witness their behavior, perhaps we can threaten to tell Lord Berwick about Lady Regina’s love.”

  “And maybe,” Claire cut in, “she is frightened enough of her father to drop the blackmail against me!”

  “Let us hope so,” Willa said excitedly.

  “So we only need to discover who this secret man is,” Claire said.

  “Which we can do with a bit of asking about, keeping our eyes open or, if we have to, following her,” Willa said.

  “And here I have been too upset to even pay attention to who she dances with,” Claire said.

  “I wonder, too, if it must be you who marries the earl,” Willa offered tentatively. “For I must confide in you, dear cousin, I am growing a tendre for the earl.”

  “Oh, Willa, you would be so perfect for each other,” Claire said without hesitation. Then she thought of her cousin witnessing the ill-timed kiss last night and all the flirtations she had set up. “I must have hurt you badly,” she said, “when you had to watch me with the earl.”

  Willa shrugged. “I did not know for sure how I felt about him until last night. And I do admit I was jealous. I wanted to slap you, but I understand now why you did all those things.”

  She thought about the earl with her cousin, their shared love of horses and life in the country. What if they did get married? Wouldn’t it get the earl out of Regina’s life as well as it would if Claire married him?

  “Willa, maybe I should approach Lady Regina and ask her. I am confident you have captured Lord Roydon’s attentions, and it would be most easy to assure you had. And if he proposed to you, it would effectively remove him from Lady Regina’s life. I can’t imagine she would care who marries him as long as it is not her.”

  “One would think not,” Willa agreed.

  “We should try it first. I shall send around a note to her, asking her to meet me and I will propose the idea. Where is your paper and pen?” she asked, climbing off the bed with new purpose.

  ****

  Noel awoke after a sleepless night at the sound of Knox bringing in his morning coffee. He sat up in bed.

  “You are a saint, Knox,” he said. “I fear I am in dreadful need of a cup of that.”

  “Then shall I pour you a cup now, Your Grace?” the valet asked.

  “Please do; you know how I like it.”

  The valet sat down the coffee tray and then poured it, adding a spoonful of sugar and a small dollop of cream. He carried it, along with a serviette, to his master. Draping the serviette across the duke’s lap, he handed him the coffee.

  “Here you go, Your Grace, just the thing to perk you up.”

  “I need it,” Noel admitted. “I don’t believe I slept more than a few hours at best last night.”

  “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I do hope tonight will be better for you.”

  “It will be,” Noel said. “I must get to the bottom of some things today,” he said, “and then I should rest easier.”

  “What clothes would you like me to lay out for you, Your Grace?” the valet asked him.

  Noel thought for a moment, envisioning what the day ahead might hold for him. He had forced himself to set the vellum notes aside last night, not allowing himself to read them. This was his first plan. Later, he must set about winning the heart of Miss Stuart.

  “I will be making several calls today, Knox. Select something appropriate and, if it happens to impress a certain lady, so much the better.”

  The valet, purpose in his stride, disappeared to the dressing room. Noel sipped his coffee and then rose, donned his dressing gown, and fetched himself a refill. Knox was making an unusual amount of noise in there, and he finally looked around the corner of the door.

  “She is fond of gardening is she not, Your Grace?”

  Noel looked quizzically at his valet. “Yes, but
how do you learn these things?”

  Knox, his chest puffed with pride, looked his master straight in the eyes. “I have many friends in the business, Your Grace. I make it a point to learn about those things which might affect your life.”

  Noel was a bit stunned. “I never thought about it,” he told him, “I believe I must now give you two raises next quarter,” he said.

  “One will be quite sufficient,” his valet answered, fighting to look austere and failing. He broke into a smile.

  Noel laughed. “So it will be the floral waistcoat then?” he asked seeing the item in his valet’s hands. It was new and he had not previously seen it. Knox had his measurements, and Noel left it up to his trusted valet to order almost all of his clothes for him. He did not enjoy being bothered with such things, and the valet seemed to find much enjoyment in it. This particular waistcoat was in a bold pattern in shades of blues and yellows. It was a bit loud for him.

  “I am surprised, Knox,” Noel said later. “At first I was a bit unsure of this waistcoat, but now I admit it looks quite fine.” Paired with buckskin breeches and a dark blue jacket, it did compliment him.

  Knox sniffed. “I would not lead you astray, Your Grace.”

  Before he left the room, Noel slowly opened the first vellum note. It was addressed to Claire’s uncle and said little other than she wanted him to come to the library to speak with her. The note to the earl differed only slightly. It was not suggestive, nor did it give a hint as to her plans. Still puzzled, Noel went downstairs.

  He dined alone, his mother no doubt sleeping in after her late night. Once he had finished, he called for his curricle and then drove around the square to John’s home.

  When the butler opened the door, the man bowed genially. “Your Grace.”

  Noel walked in. “Is Roydon up and about?” he asked.

  The servant, long used to his master and the duke being thick as thieves, indicated the dining room. “He is breaking his fast, Your Grace.”

  Noel let himself into the room and helped himself to another serving of ham, a third cup of coffee, and a slice of toast with marmalade.