Chapter Twenty-two
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“HE IS OBSESSED with Seraphine,” Arthford was saying. When Nothshire had floated the plan to the others, Arthford was the one who’d filled in the details rather handily, and so he was allowing Arthford to take point on this.
Arthford was seated next to the fireplace in the downstairs sitting room of Dunrose’s estate. Champeraigne was seated opposite him, listening. Dunrose and Rutchester had opted to stay in the attic with Penbrake, who was still alive, currently, but likely wouldn’t be for long. That would be up to Arthford, Nothshire had decided. If Arthford wouldn’t kill him, it would be all right, they had decided, because telling Champeraigne that Penbrake was scheming against him was punishment enough for the man. He’d spend the rest of his days trying to convince Champeraigne he hadn’t done it, but Champeraigne was a deeply paranoid person who would never believe the earl’s protestations of innocence.
“Well, who isn’t obsessed with her?” said Champeraigne coldly, eyeing Arthford. “I specifically said to Nothshire that you must not be allowed to let your anger cloud this exchange. I did not wish anything bad to befall Penbrake. I wanted to strike a bargain with him.”
“Yes, and he obviously wasn’t amenable,” said Arthford. “You needed us to intervene. So, why do you think that was?”
“I have a reputation,” said Champeraigne with a shrug. “Sometimes I need to take creative measures to get audiences with various men. But you seem to have prevented that from happening.”
“Hear him out,” said Nothshire, who was seated on a nearby couch with Patience. “I have my own information to add to it, as does the Viscountess of Balley, but we shall allow Arthford to explain the bulk of it.”
“I did wonder what she was doing here,” said Champeraigne, and Nothshire didn’t like the way he looked at her. He sucked in a breath, thinking—not for the first time—about why they didn’t simply kill Champeraigne and solve all their problems.
“He hated you for what he perceived as whoring Seraphine out,” said Arthford. “He thought of Seraphine as some meek thing, controlled by both you and her husband for financial gain. We know that’s not true, but there’s a certain kind of man who can’t conceive of a woman being anything other than controlled by some man.”
“All right, granted,” said Champeraigne, thinking this through. “I wouldn’t have thought Penbrake for being one to have some high-minded moral way of looking at the world.”
“Oh, only when it suited him,” said Arthford. “In this case, his thought was that you were preventing him from being with Seraphine.”
“But she doesn’t like him,” said Champeraigne.
“No, I know this,” said Arthford, sighing. “I know that it was her choice to reject him, but you see, he could never get this through his thick skull, that a woman would reject him. No, there had to be someone else to blame, and he blamed you.”
Champeraigne furrowed his brow. “So, this is why he would not talk to me about business propositions? I suppose it does make sense.”
“I think he drugged Seraphine and ravished her, thinking that it would quell his obsession with her,” said Arthford.
“But it only fed it,” said Champeraigne. “It wasn’t enough. He’d had her, but only unwillingly, and he wanted it to be real. He wanted her to agree to take him into her bed. And I was in the way.”
“He knew things,” said Arthford. “He revealed them to the viscountess.” He nodded at Patience.
She spoke up. “Yes, we were all together last night at my brother’s house, and the men were quite drunk. Penbrake spoke more freely with me than he might have otherwise. He said he only meant to warn me off Benedict.” She nodded at Nothshire. “His Grace, the Duke of Nothshire, I mean. He was not aware that I knew more about Nothshire than Penbrake did. After all, he was so kind as to relieve me of my hated husband.”
“So, you’ve been part of this little group of schemers and murderers for some time, have you, my lady?” said Champeraigne. “Well, well, you’re not nearly as sweet and demure as you appear, are you?”
“Careful,” said Nothshire. “That’s my intended you’re speaking about.”
Champeraigne laughed. “Yes, yes, of course she is. Of course.”
Patience gave him a haughty look. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean by that. But at any rate, the earl spoke to me and ‘revealed’ various things to me about Nothshire and you, my lord, by extension. He said that Nothshire was not his intended target, that you were, but that Nothshire was entangled and that he would be implicated in the process. He said it was his intention to destroy you, Comte Champeraigne, because you were a meddling foreigner, come like a destroyer into our country, the enemy, draining good Englishmen of their wealth and resources like a parasite.”
Champeraigne flinched.
Nothshire hid a smile. She was rather good, wasn’t she? How had she known just how to hit Champeraigne where it hurt?
“Well,” said Patience, “I immediately sent word to my husband-to-be. I could not allow Penbrake to destroy His Grace, for he would also destroy my own future. It was not to be borne. It goes without saying that my engagement has yet to be announced. I am a widow, and there is no need to negotiate it with my brother, but we did deem that it might be prudent to speak to him, and that is the entire reason we are here. I am only pleased that I was able to find out this plot against you all and save us before we were attacked by Penbrake. He is a snake .”
Nothshire had to cover his mouth to hide the fact he was laughing, but she was just, well, brilliant . He was quite badly in love with her. He cleared his throat, composing himself. “I went to confront Penbrake, of course. The confrontation became, erm, heated. We had to deal with him, monsieur le comte , and so we did.”
Champeraigne looked between their three faces, his expression grave. “Yes, I see exactly what you did, Your Graces, my lady. I do see it.”
“I know this isn’t the outcome you wished,” said Nothshire. “And it is likely not pleasant to understand that whatever scheme you were concocting will not work now, but I do need to point out that we have done you a favor, my lord, so you might want to consider being grateful to us.”
“Ha!” Champeraigne shook his head, aghast. “How quickly you go to that, Nothshire.”
“I think, considering everything, this might buy us a bit of leeway over whatever demands you think to leverage against us—”
“You cannot be serious,” said Champeraigne, shaking his head at him. “You know what your problem is, boys? ” He included Arthford in this question. “You don’t understand that the world has changed.”
“Is that so?” said Arthford. “Changed how?”
“You still think we’re playing by the old rules,” said Champeraigne. “You think your wealth and your status and your titles are going to save you. You think that you can get away with anything, even murder, even the bloody and gory murder of your own fathers. And it might have been true, once. We did used to live in that world, boys, but it’s a new world. You may think, simply because the peasantry of England hasn’t risen up and cut off your heads, that you are still free to behave like utter bastards with no rules and no consequences. But just because the English are too busy drinking tea and hemming and hawing to do anything doesn’t mean that you are exempt from this new worldview. They will hold you accountable. You have no idea what sort of consequences there will be for your behavior if I ever tell anyone what I know. They won’t feel sorry for you, do you see that? You are dukes, raised in privilege, given everything you want. Oh, I’m sorry , your fathers were so cruel to you, even as they lavished you with all the finest things. Do you think anyone believe that was your motive? Do you think anyone will believe that when you, upon their deaths, came into power and wealth? They will despise you. They will think you nothing but greedy and ungrateful brats. So, understand this, boys. I own you. You are all mine, and you will do my bidding for as long as I wish it.”
Nothshire wasn’t laughing anymore. His heart was thudding rather badly in his chest.
Champeraigne got up from his seat.
“As if you’re playing by some new moral rulebook,” said Arthford from his chair. “As if you’re not behaving just as badly as spoiled rich men always behave. Where do you have the right to say anything to us? You are no better than we are.”
Champeraigne looked down at him. “There is no ‘better’ at all. That is what no one understands, least of all the peasants. They undertook their revolution in my country to right wrongs and to bring justice. What did they do instead? The bloodiest and most violent and most awful thing a group of humans have ever undertaken together. As bad as we were to them, they were much worse. And that, you see, is what’s underneath, that’s the thing that is uncovered in the end. Just that we are all animals.” He smoothed out his lapels. “Well, then. I’m off, I suppose. If you kill Penbrake and think I shall thank you for it, or that I am somehow in your debt, think again. Animals don’t have debts, boys. Animals just have hungers .”
On that note, he walked out, leaving them all speechless.
“HE’S WRONG,” PATIENCE whispered to Nothshire.
It was dark, that night, and he was in her arms. It had likely been reckless for him to come to her, but there had been a desperation to the way he’d appeared, shedding his clothes wordlessly as he dove into her bed as he awakened her body to pleasure, as he joined with her and they gasped against each other there in the darkness.
“Champeraigne, I mean,” she said. “He’s wrong.”
Nothshire put his face into crook of her neck and shoulder and breathed noisily. “About what?”
After Champeraigne had left, she had wanted to stay there with Nothshire, at Dunrose’s estate, but it hadn’t quite been prudent, so she’d taken her horse back through the woods, made her way surreptitiously back inside, and been let back into her room by Charlotte.
Three hours later, she’d been summoned to her brother’s study, downstairs, where Nothshire was there, and her brother said that the duke wished to marry her.
They were talking of marriage, she said, in the wake of not knowing the fate of Penbrake?
No, her brother said, Penbrake had been found. Her brother didn’t wish to offend her delicate sensibilities, but it wasn’t good. He was dead, and no one quite knew what had happened. As it was, her brother was looking into ways to secure the estate so that no one could get in and drag his guests out into the woods and kill them. From the way he’d been found, however, her brother said they all suspected witchcraft or something arcane and awful.
Witchcraft? she had mouthed at Nothshire behind her brother’s back, and Nothshire had shrugged.
Anyway, her brother had taken the subject right back to her impending nuptials. He clasped his hands behind his back and said that Nothshire had outlined a somewhat surprising set of documents, which would preserve not only her dowry but a certain allowance that could not be taken from her nor gotten to by her husband, who wished her to feel secure and safe and in charge of herself. Her husband also wished to put certain properties into her name, and any income generated by them would be her own to do with as she wished.
She felt touched. She did trust him now. Both with her body and her mind. Because, though he was a violent man in certain ways, she understood why he was violent, and she didn’t fault him for it. She didn’t need this legal document to agree to the marriage, but she would not refuse it either.
She could see that it was necessary in some ways, because of the way that Nothshire was at the mercy of Champeraigne. This meant that there were aspects of Nothshire’s wealth that were safely hers, and she would be protected in that way forever. It was a very intelligent thing to do, actually.
She gave her agreement to the match and then she and Nothshire had gone for a walk in her brother’s gardens. It was late spring, and many of the blooms were being taken over by greenery, but there were still spots of color here and there.
He held her hand, and that was something simple and sweet that she had hitherto never really experienced. It was good, she found, the intimacy of simply walking hand in hand with another person. Innocent in some way but powerful all the same.
And now, she dragged her hands over his bare back, all the way down to the spot at the bottom of his back where the tangle of scars thatched over his skin and she said, “If we were only animals, no one could have ever conceived of a world that wasn’t brutal. If we were only animals, you wouldn’t have ever thought what your fathers did was wrong. Nor would the French peasants, for that matter. The fact that we can dream of a world in which we are good to each other, it means something.”
He sighed. “Perhaps.”
“No, attend to me, this is important,” she said. “There is a darker nature within us. Yes, we are tempted to sin. But it is a choice. We do not have to succumb.”
He lifted his face and looked down at her. “I try to believe this, too, Patience. I have tried to do the right thing, always tried only to give in to violent acts if I thought they were excusable or warranted. I have tried, but… perhaps I am simply fooling myself. Perhaps I am only an animal. You yourself called me a beast.”
“No, no, we shall get married,” she said. “And everyone knows that once the beast and the girl get married and she is his duchess—”
“Duchess is it?”
“Princess, duchess, what you will,” she said. “Anyway, everyone knows what happens then.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” she said. “They live happily ever after.”
He kissed her. “We shall endeavor to do exactly that, then, shall we?”
She sighed against him. “Yes, please. And I can think of one thing that makes me ever so happy.”
“Can you?”
“Yes, it’s your mouth. Especially when you use it in such inventive ways on such filthy places.”
He chuckled. “Well, then. How could I refuse to please my soon-to-be duchess?”