In which a lady is affronted
Nine Years Later
A Truth Discernor is just as susceptible as anyone else to charms and Illusions.
- from Lady Avely’s Guide to Lies and Charms
“You saw an Illusion ? Of me half-naked? ”
Judith stared at the Duke of Sargen, aghast, amid the roses at the Sargenet estate.
A private arbour encircled them, the archways thick with small red flowers. A sweet fragrance hung in the autumn air, and a fountain bubbled in a round pool. It was late morning, and the sun warmed the stone and threw a soft glow through the blooms. Judith, sitting on the bench by the pool, had no thought to spare for the beauty around her, for her mind was grappling with the duke’s revelations.
He claimed he had seen her half-clothed with Lord Charles Garvey, at the fatal house party nine years ago. He had described her gown - black with gold trimmings - and said that it had fallen down to her waist . This was right before the duke had killed the said (and wretched) Lord Garvey.
There was one problem with this account, in that it could not possibly be true.
Yes, Judith had been at the house party, and yes, she had conversed with Lord Garvey on several occasions. Perhaps she had, regrettably, even allowed some flirtatious remarks. However, she had certainly not been half-clothed or with her gown down to her waist . She was a respectable matron and widow, then and now! Clearly his grace was under several misapprehensions.
The duke had begun to realise it too. “Someone set me up,” he said grimly, his scar whitening on his forehead. “And used your image to provoke me.”
His anger became palpable, making the roses quiver. He stalked out of the private rose arbour, too furious to stay still, his tall figure striding under arches that were laden with cream and yellow flowers. The tender passion that had bespelled them moments earlier had completely vanished.
Judith hurried after him, her brow creased, trying to make sense of it all.
“Aren’t you rather leaping to conclusions?” she called, though she was also angry and unsettled.
“Don’t you see, Judith?” he growled. “I was manipulated. Someone took my weaknesses and exploited them. They played me like a harp!”
Judith expelled a breath. Anything less like a harp, she could not imagine. Dacian stormed ahead, his brow thunderous, his fists clenching with impotent rage.
Except it wasn’t impotent: she could feel the power fluctuating in the air.
“Calm down ,” she said. “Restrain yourself, for goodness’ sake, Dacian. If you weren’t so quick to anger, then none of this would have happened!”
He spun on his heel, but his hands flexed out and the roses all breathed a sigh of relief. There was a long silence. Slowly, the buzzing of insects resumed.
“I am calm,” he said quietly. “I promised you that I would never lose my temper like that again, and it is true. I studied under a master Impacter in Spain: a bull runner turned monk. He taught me how to control my power.”
“I could feel the pressure of it a few moments ago,” she observed warily.
“Just letting off steam,” he replied. “Like a kettle, so I don’t explode.”
“Please don’t explode.”
“I won’t.” He gave her a wry grin, then his lips compressed again. “But can you not see that this is an insult to my honour? And to yours?”
Judith put her hands on her hips. “I am well aware of the insult. You, at least, were not depicted in lustful embrace with Lord Garvey!”
Dacian’s fists curled again. “The whole thing is abominable. We must find the culprit and string him up to dry. I’m going to Garvey House today and I’ll shake the rat loose, whoever it was.”
Above him, heavy cream blossoms nodded approval in a faint breeze.
Judith, however, shook her head. “You can’t just storm off to Garvey House and make wild accusations.”
“Why not?” He glowered.
“The Edicts, for one.” She dropped her hands from her hips and walked a few steps closer, lowering her voice even though they were alone in the arbour. “How will you avoid talking of the magicks if you are claiming a complex Illusion was used against you? Not to mention that you will drag the whole awful matter of the duel back into light, when you have only just returned to England. There is probably still a warrant for your arrest gathering dust somewhere, and the family might demand that it be honoured, especially if you turn up full of recriminations.”
Dacian’s frown deepened. “Damn it.”
“I am usually right, you know.”
His mouth quirked reluctantly. “What do you suggest, then? I cannot let it rest, Judith. Nor should I. Someone deliberately intended Garvey’s death, and used me as the instrument.”
She chewed on her lip. “Who could possibly have done it? Who stood to gain from his demise?”
Dacian’s eyes narrowed. “Well, we know who inherited the estate. His brother, Kenneth Garvey. They weren’t on the best of terms, either, as far as I recall.”
“No.” Judith cast her mind back, remembering scenes from long ago. “They argued about Lord Garvey’s engagement. Do you remember it? Charles announced his betrothal to Miss Selina Pelling, from the neighbouring property. Kenneth did not hide his dislike of it.”
“Yes,” said Dacian slowly. “He probably didn’t want an heir to displace him in the line of succession.”
Judith nodded. Lord Garvey had only been blessed with one daughter before his first wife had died in childbirth. “The estate would have been entailed to Kenneth, with no male children to inherit.”
Dacian scowled. “Kenneth is our culprit then. I’ll damn well wring his goddamn neck.”
“Wait!” Judith held up her hands again. “We don’t know that for certain. Is he an Illusor? You can’t just throttle him!”
“Can’t I?” Dacian spun on his heel and stalked away again. “I’ll bloody well force the truth out of him, see if I don’t.”
She hurried after him. “You just promised that you can restrain yourself.”
“I can; that doesn’t mean I will.”
“They won’t let you into the house! You killed Lord Garvey, for goodness’ sake. The door will be barred to you.”
His fists clenched. “I’ll force my way in.”
“Very gentlemanly,” she said dryly. “And then what? Kenneth will deny it, and you’ll be worse off than when you started, having revealed your hand. We need some pretence. Something that will allow us to visit Garvey House and make discreet enquiries.”
“Us? Judith - ”
She cut him off. “It is my reputation that was besmirched, your grace. And I have a useful talent, do not forget. I will be able to tell if Kenneth lies.”
Dacian stopped and swung round.
“No,” he said. “We cannot both go. If Kenneth Garvey sees us together, he will soon realise that his little scheme has been revealed. It would only be a matter of time before you and I would talk on the matter and realise we had both been made fools of.”
“Not necessarily.” She gestured for him to walk beside her, hoping it would calm him. He reluctantly fell in step, and put out his arm. She took it, feeling a bolt of awareness as she touched him. Only a short while ago, she had placed her hand on his beautiful face. She had been about to kiss him, to surrender her body and heart to him. Then he had ruined it all with his mortifying revelations. She flushed again, angry that he had believed such awful things about her.
She cleared her throat. “We are English, after all. You have only just broached the matter to me today, after nine years’ silence.” That fact still hurt; that he had not bothered to write or see her since Lord Garvey’s death. Though now she understood a little better why.
He shot her a look from under his brows. “Regardless, it will put Kenneth on his guard to see us together.”
“If Kenneth is indeed the guilty party.”
“ Whoever the culprit may be, they will be alerted if they see us.”
Judith had to admit that Dacian had a point, and she let out her breath in a long whoosh.
The solution was clear, but his grace wasn’t going to like it.
“Well, then,” she said firmly, “the alternative is that I go alone to Garvey House. Stokesford is west of here - on the way to Cornwall, after all.”
They had reached the end of the arbour and he drew them to a halt by the apple trees, frowning. The leaves danced in the sunlight as a soft breeze ruffled his black hair. “I do not want you tangled up in it, Judith.”
“I am already tangled up in it. Furthermore, my Gift can help uncover the truth better than your violence.”
He heaved a sigh but did not deny it. “And what excuse will you give for calling on Garvey House, marchioness?”
“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “I need time to think.”
“No harebrained schemes,” he admonished. “I need time, also, to tie up the loose ends here.”
The last few days had been eventful, culminating with a villain locked into Dacian’s cellar, and a mother and child injured. The household was in an uproar, and the duke was needed to put it in order. Judith nodded stiffly in agreement, though she rather thought she’d be better off going to Garvey House alone. She didn’t want Dacian to be arrested for murder, as much as he might infuriate her sometimes.
“Though,” he added, “I must report back to London soon, and see if my Gift can be of use, with the threat of invasion hanging over us. Not that I believe for a minute that Bonaparte will manage to fight past Nelson.”
“Indeed not,” she said staunchly, though her heart cowed a little to think of Dacian joining the fight. Was that the real reason he had returned to England now? His refuge in Spain must have become precarious last year, with the rupturing of the Treaty of Amiens. Though she didn’t believe for a moment that he had been sitting by idly while the French piled their troops into Spain.
She opened her mouth to ask, but forestalling her, Dacian hastily changed the subject. “How is little Otho doing? Has his arm improved?”
“It still pains him, I believe.” Judith allowed the diversion. “He smells strongly of lavender, willow bark, and some other dreadful herb slathered all over him. I would rather advise some of that Spanish drinking chocolate as a suitable remedy.”
“Is that so?” His lips twisted in amusement. “Don’t forget I only let you try that recipe when you promised to stay longer at Sargenet: I rely upon your honour in this.”
“Indeed,” she said coolly.
“No galloping off to Garvey House.” He gave her a penetrating glare.
She put her nose up. “I do not gallop . ”
“Of course not,” he agreed, chastised. “We shall determine a plan together, Judith.”
She nodded, but she avoided his gaze. They turned back to face the house, the massive bulk of it rising above the rose garden. Dacian pulled her a little closer. “This is not how I intended this morning to unfold,” he said ruefully.
Judith drew a breath. “No doubt you were hoping I’d pull down my bodice for you.”
“No!”
She raised an eyebrow, hiding her hurt under a show of asperity.
He grinned. “Well, yes - but not yet. I just wanted to…talk. Properly, for the first time in years.”
“Hm.” She knew the truth. Dacian had been hoping for a wanton display like the one he had witnessed nine years ago. “Talking is what you had in mind, was it?”
His cheeks flushed a dull red. Judith began walking back to the house, pulling him with her, both of them now in embarrassed silence. The intimacy that had flourished between them a short while ago was squashed and burnt in the flame of her embarrassment.
At the cold entrance hall of Sargenet, they parted ways. Judith trod with dignity up to the Gold Room and pushed the door open with relief. Sunshine poured through the curtains, lighting up the golds and maroons with warmth and splendour.
Alone at last, surrounded by opulence, Judith threw herself on the bed and cried.
She did not even have her companion Miss Marigold Cultor to confide in, for the vampiri was asleep behind the cupboard. Judith was glad, in a way, as all her frustration and mortification could pour out uninterrupted.
How dare Dacian think for one minute that she had … cavorted with Lord Garvey? That she had undone her gown? And displayed her…upper body… for that cretin? What had passed through Dacian’s head? Clearly not much. If he had been in possession of his senses he would have known she would never do such a thing. He must have been drunk, lustful, and stupid, as was his stupid wont.
Did Dacian not know her? Is that how he truly saw her: as a loose woman, freely sharing her favours at a house party? Judith gritted her teeth. She now knew exactly why Dacian had made his advances among the roses today. He had led her to the decadence of the secret hot spring, hoping she would undo her bodice for him .
The thought was mortifying. Worse, she was aware of a sense of desolation. She had believed, for a short moment, that he loved her.
Certainly, he had claimed to be wild with jealousy . Judith sniffed into her pillow, squashing the tender shoot of hope that sprung up within her breast. Dacian’s jealousy probably did not signify much. It was likely a matter of masculine dominance. The duke was all too accustomed to being the object of female desire: to see Judith accepting the embrace of Lord Garvey would certainly have spiked his jealousy .
She shuddered. The whole thing was so dreadfully sordid. Who had dared sully her own image with such a vulgar pantomime? And how dared Dacian believe it?
Tears slipped down her cheeks. Again and again, she opened her heart to him, and then he did something to show how little he valued it.
Well, enough was enough. He would soon learn that she was not to be trifled with, and she was not going to undo her bodice for him, let alone the guards around her heart.
Emotions spent at last, Judith tried to console herself with a nap. Ordinarily, she regarded naps as a cure for all ills. Yet she had slept in too late that morning, and sleep would not come.
Instead, after lunch, she sat down at the rosewood writing desk, gathered her composure, and cast about for an excuse to visit Garvey House.
She tried to remember what she knew of Kenneth, the new Lord Garvey. She had seen him often in London over the last few years, his short, plump figure a common sight in the ballrooms and drawing rooms. He was unmarried, and didn’t seem intent on shackling himself down, for she couldn’t recall him courting any one of London’s eligible maidens. After the scandal of his brother’s death, society had turned a rather cold shoulder towards the Garveys, which, now that she thought of it, seemed unfair. Garvey had died violently and scandalously, but it had been the duke who had delivered the fatal shot.
Of course, if it were a matter of taking sides between a duke and a mere lord, society would rally round the duke. Most likely, everyone blamed Charles Garvey for his own death, and tarred his brother with the same brush, even if it had been the duke who had been in the wrong. Kenneth had not allowed it to daunt him, however, and through persistence had held onto his place in the ton - helped, no doubt, by the fact that he now possessed the title.
For Charles - the late Lord Garvey - had been a widower when Dacian killed him. His wife had died years earlier in childbirth, leaving behind a stillborn and a young daughter. Judith recalled a piquant little face peering down from the upper floors, next to her own daughter, Elinor, as both of them avidly watched the house party before they were shooed back to the nursery. What was her name? Georgina Garvey? Poor little thing, to lose her mother so young, and then her father. She was a sickly creature, too, prone to coughs and lung complaints, possibly as a result of the grief she had suffered.
Judith sat up straighter at her writing desk. The girl must be nearly of an age to enter society now. Perhaps Judith could extend a hand of friendship. As an old family acquaintance, it would not be too remarkable if she invited Georgina Garvey to visit Elinor in Devon, or even London for Elinor’s wedding. Kenneth should leap on the chance to give the girl a little experience in polite company before attempting the perils of a season. And if Kenneth was reluctant, Judith could appeal to Georgina’s grandmothers: the old Lady Cordelia Garvey (a bit of a battle-axe, as she recalled), and Mrs Harriet Bollopher (who was a sensible woman). Both of them lived at Garvey House, so it was the perfect excuse to call upon them there.
She smiled to herself. Dacian could not fault her plan, even if it had no room for him in it. As a dignified widow, she could simply call on the dowagers, and under the guise of extending kindness to Georgina, make some discreet enquiries. Harriet, at least, would probably welcome the visit, matron to matron.
Judith would need her most respectable mobcap.