Chapter 21
The Garden Room was merely a small saloon decorated with wallpaper featuring trellises covered with flowering vines.
Through wide glass doors, it could open into the conservatory, which itself led to an outside terrace and the knot garden.
At this chilly time of year, the glass doors were covered by a curtain and a fire warmed the room.
Cyn and Chastity entered the small room to find Henry Vernham sitting in a chair guarded by Brand Malloren. Vernham started nervously.
Cyn ignored him to seat Chastity on the sofa and take a place beside her. “Mr. Vernham,” he said amiably, “I hope you are being well cared for. Been given all you require?”
“I suppose so.” Despite the betraying glitter in his eyes, the man was able to form his words correctly. Clearly Rothgar had been right as always, and Vernham was a hardened drinker. “Surprised you care, though,” Vernham said with a sneer. “Your big brother reined you in, has he?”
Cyn smiled. “The condemned prisoner should always be served a hearty meal.”
Vernham paled and tried to get to his feet, but Brand pushed him down. Before it came to a fight, the door opened and the Earl of Walgrave stalked in with Lindle and two hefty attendants trailing them. Rothgar and Fort entered behind them.
Despite Cyn’s reassuring presence, Chastity’s heart started to pound.
The small room was crowded, but her father created a space around himself as if by natural right.
Chastity noticed he had a new cane, ebony with gold decoration, and rather more solid than was his habit.
He showed no nervousness. His eyes passed over her as if she were a stranger.
Defiantly, she took off her mask and pushed back the hood of her domino.
“Well, Rothgar?” Walgrave demanded. “May I know the reason behind this? I am displeased, most displeased, to find you have meddled in my family’s affairs.”
Rothgar took a stand by the glowing fire. “But our families are to be felicitously joined.”
The earl’s eyes impaled Chastity. “That shameless trollop? You are welcome to her, but she’s no child of mine.”
Cyn’s hand comforted Chastity’s and she met her father’s sneering gaze. He looked away—at Henry Vernham.
Stark terror marked Vernham’s face. Chastity realized that without the crucial evidence, Vernham was naked to Walgrave’s malice. However, she noted something guarded in her father’s glance at Vernham. Perhaps the earl was not entirely sure that Henry Vernham was helpless.
“So be it,” said Rothgar equably. “I merely thought to do you a kindness for family’s sake.” He took a contemplative pinch of snuff. “In fact, I insist. My own generosity at times astonishes me. I believe Mr. Vernham has something you want.”
“I believe he has,” said Walgrave with a malignant smile. “Do I understand you will allow me to retrieve it?”
Rothgar gestured, “Please.”
“Damme,” cried Vernham, again trying to struggle to his feet. “I have nothing. Nothing!”
The earl, however, had focused again on Rothgar. “Perhaps I should beware of Mallorens bearing gifts.”
Chastity suddenly realized the numbers were in her father’s favor.
There were three Mallorens here and four in her father’s party, including the two attendants.
There was Fort, but she could not be sure how he would side when the future of the earldom hung in the balance. Vernham would fight for himself.
If it came to it, she would do her part, but she feared she would be a lightweight in this company.
Rothgar took another delicate pinch of snuff and brushed away a few specks. “It is always wise to be wary, Walgrave. In this case, however, I have reason to be generous. I cannot allow a taint to come into my family with your daughter.”
The earl let out a crack of laughter. “Gads, man, you’re taking in a gutter-full!”
“Father!” exclaimed Fort. Cyn surged to his feet.
Walgrave turned on his son. “Are you on their side, boy? You’re a fool then. If the chit wasn’t debauched by Vernham, then she was debauched by Malloren.”
Cyn’s sword hissed from its scabbard, but Rothgar raised his hand. Cyn froze, cold eyes on the earl.
Rothgar turned to Vernham. “My dear sir, are you an innocent after all? Did you not have your wicked way with Lady Chastity?”
Vernham was clearly terrified out of his wits. His eyes were fixed on Cyn’s drawn sword, even though it was not pointed at him. “No, of course not! Hardly touched her.”
“It must have been a prank gone awry. And you nobly offered to wed her to repair the damage you had so inadvertently caused.”
“Yes, yes. If she was a virgin when I climbed into her bed, she was one when I climbed out.”
“If?” demanded Cyn, and now the rapier did point at Vernham, inches from his terrified eyes.
“She was. She was!” he babbled. “He had her hymen broken to stop her proving her innocence. But that was later!”
All eyes turned to Walgrave.
He was unmoved. “Gibberish. If you seek to whitewash the girl this way, Rothgar, you’ll fail.” He looked down his nose at Vernham. “I’ll have the paper, wretch, and let you live.”
Vernham shrank back. “I don’t have it, I tell you!”
“Then we’ll take you apart piece by piece to make sure—”
The door opened.
Everyone in the room turned to stare as a woman entered. Cyn even lowered his sword from Vernham’s face. A stranger. No, not a stranger, thought Chastity. She gasped with horror when she recognized the woman who had stolen her proof of virtue.
She was tall and handsome, if one did not note the hardness of her eyes and mouth. She was dressed as richly as any lady in the house.
“Ah, Mirabelle,” said Rothgar. “Welcome.”
Mirabelle gazed around the room with infinite cynicism.
“I was paid by the Earl of Walgrave,” she said clearly, “to break the maidenhead of Lady Chastity, his daughter. All the evidence spoke of her being completely untouched by man.” A slight smile curved her pointed lips.
“I am more in the business of repairing what has inconveniently been broken . . .”
“Is this supposed to count for anything?” asked the earl. “A woman such as that can be bought for a few guineas.”
“On the contrary, my lord,” said Mirabelle. “I do not so much as blow a gentleman’s nose for less than twenty.” With that, she nodded to Rothgar and swept out of the room.
Rothgar turned to Vernham. “As you are innocent, why not give the earl his document, then you may leave.”
“I don’t have it, I tell you!” Vernham exclaimed. “Verity has it in one of her damn pockets.”
“Then perhaps we should send for Lady Verity and the letter. Lord Thornhill, would you oblige?”
Chastity saw her father react to the word “letter,” which told him Rothgar knew what the document was. He turned to sneer at his son. “Go and be Rothgar’s lackey, boy. It’s all you’re good for.”
Fort’s lips tightened, but he left the room.
“While we wait,” said Rothgar, “why don’t you tell us, Mr. Vernham, how you came to be in Lady Chastity’s bed without her consent, and without her raising the alarm? It’s a trick I could use on occasion.”
Vernham’s wits were clearly scrambled by drink and fear, and he didn’t see the strange turn the conversation had taken. He laughed, “She sleeps like the dead. An army could get in the bed with her and she’d scarce stir. I had to pinch her to wake her when the witnesses arrived.”
“You can’t have counted on her deep sleep, surely?” Rothgar inquired mildly.
“Walgrave told me,” said Vernham, and then looked nervously at the earl.
The earl looked death back at him but said nothing. If Rothgar hoped to force him into an incriminating admission, he was failing.
Chastity wondered if she could break her father’s control again.
She rose, dodging Cyn’s restraining hand. “And my father didn’t care a fig for me, did you, you monster?” She took an insolent stance in front of Walgrave and laughed at him. “You must have thought it would all be so easy, but I’ve thwarted you at every turn!”
She saw his lips form a snarl.
“If I’d married Henry Vernham, none of this would have happened, would it? But I laughed in your face! So you decided to force me. You gave that man the key to my room, then brought the cream of Society to be witnesses. You as good as debauched me yourself, you stinking hypocrite!”
She was ready for his use of the slashing cane and danced out of the way. Cyn stepped forward, sword ready.
The earl grasped his cane and twisted it to unsheathe a blade. He tossed it to his henchman. “Lindle!”
Cyn smiled lovingly. “Ah, so you are Lindle. You really don’t want to do this, you know.”
Lindle came at him. Cyn danced back. “You are badly outmatched,” said Cyn, “and cannot possibly prevail. Is it worth death to do that man’s bidding?”
Lindle’s expression did not change, and he wore that strange smile. “Stop crowing, cockerel, and fight.”
The swords clicked briefly, then—almost idly—Cyn gashed Lindle’s cheek. The man cried out and pressed a hand to the wound. Blood welled between his fingers.
Cyn’s point now rested at his neck. “I don’t think your smile will ever be quite the same.” He pushed with the sword and the man staggered back, until he was against a wall and had nowhere else to go. “Now,” said Cyn, “did Mistress Mirabelle break Lady Chastity’s hymen on the earl’s orders?”
Truly Lindle must have some deformity of the mouth, for he was still smiling in a ghastly way as he flashed a desperate look at his master.
The earl ignored him as if none of this had anything to do with him at all.
“Yes,” Lindle choked.
“You were there?” asked Cyn.
“Yes.” Blood still poured through his fingers. That casual cut had been deep and the man looked ready to collapse.
“And did the earl arrange for Mr. Vernham to be caught in his daughter’s bed?”
“Yes!” gasped Lindle. “On the earl’s orders, I let him in, I encouraged him. The paltry worm didn’t think it would work. But once he realized how deep she slept, he had a merry time touching her up.”