The Devereaux Affair by Adele Clee

Chapter 21

Bennet plungedhis hands into the washbowl and splashed water over his face. He stood, elbows resting on the oak table, rivulets running down his cheeks, dripping off his chin.

Julianna watched from the bed, knowing guilt and remorse filled his heart. The case was solved; the culprits punished. Mr Branner’s fate—to be murdered by his kin—seemed crueller than if he’d swung from the gallows. In some ways, Miss Ponsonby’s death reflected the horror of her crimes. She had died alone and unloved. Died in a hole in the ground crawling with insects and vermin.

Things could have been so different.

Again, Bennet drenched his face with cold water and exhaled a sigh that reflected the depth of his despair.

“We should go down to the taproom and sit with Lord Roxburgh. He professes to be a man without feeling, but the news of Miss Ponsonby’s death disturbed him.”

Bennet dried his hands and face on a towel. “I need time alone before Daventry returns with the magistrate and coroner. They’ll need to access the tunnel to retrieve her body. Be prepared to stay at the inn tonight.”

She didn’t care where she slept as long as they were together. “Then if you wish to be alone, I shall venture downstairs and keep Lord Roxburgh company.” Julianna pushed off the bed and made for the door.

Bennet reached the door before her and blocked the exit. “Love, I meant I want to be alone with you. I need to feel your comforting touch, hear the sweet timbre of your voice.”

Julianna cupped his bristled cheek. “I’m sorry, Bennet. I wish things could have ended differently. I wish I’d been a good enough agent to confront Mr Branner, wish I could have stopped Miss Ponsonby before she committed a crime.”

“You did everything you could. They deceived us all.”

“Still, I wish I could have spared you the loss.”

At the mention of loss, he squeezed his eyes shut. “You might have died tonight. Don’t do that to me again. Don’t leave me fearing I’ve lost you.”

She hugged his waist, lay her head against his shoulder. “I thought I could reason with her, but she was beyond help. Years of hatred had corrupted her heart. Mr Branner thought to torment you, but never intended to go through with the threats. In her frustration, she killed her only sibling.”

He captured her chin and looked deep into her eyes. “We’ll work to banish the hatred. Love will be the focus of everything we do.”

He bent his head and kissed her, kissed her in the slow, sensual way that curled her toes, that had her pressing her body to his. Her insides melted when he slipped his warm tongue over hers and made love to her mouth.

“You were right. Your uncle was far from a saint. We must make sure Mary Devereaux and her children become part of our family. Your cousin John, too, when he returns from India. We must heal the rift, Bennet.”

“We?” He looked hopeful. “Does that mean you accept my proposal?”

No matter what hardships lay ahead, they would navigate them together. “It’s selfish of me, I know, but I would like to hear you ask again. And pinch me, so I know I’m not dreaming.”

He didn’t pinch her. He settled his hot hands on her buttocks, drew her to his hard body, and let her feel the evidence of his growing erection. “Does it feel real now, love? Marry me, Julianna. Come home to Witherdeen.”

Home to Witherdeen.

She loved the house, but Bennet made Witherdeen special. Bennet made life worth living. “Nothing would make me happier than being your wife. If we can cope with this, we can cope with anything.”

“Can you cope with a wedding in St George’s, Hanover Square? I want the world to know I’m in love with you. I’ll show everyone why I want you to be my marchioness.”

Julianna nibbled her bottom lip. She wanted to make him happy, but parading in front of those who willed their marriage to fail was not how she wished to celebrate their union.

“Julianna?” Bennet prompted. “Shall we marry in St George’s?”

“If that’s what you want.” She would walk down the aisle to the whispers of her mother’s name while the organist played Handel or Haydn. When prompted by the minister, no one would step forward to present her hand to Bennet.

“What do you want, Julianna?” He paused. “I want to marry you. I don’t care where or when.”

“It will take weeks to have the banns read. I thought we might marry by licence.”

A slow smile formed on his lips. After the horrors they’d witnessed tonight, it was a beautiful sight to behold. “Perhaps I could apply for a special licence, and we could marry at Witherdeen. Do you recall the time I gave you flowers, and we paraded arm in arm through the nave, pretending we had wed?”

“With remarkable clarity.” She’d felt as if she belonged with Bennet even then. “I pretended to toss the bouquet, and Mrs Hendrie caught it.”

He laughed. “We were always good at stretching the limits of our imagination, though I do know Milford holds my housekeeper in high regard.”

It seemed wrong to marry anywhere but the house they loved.

“Let’s marry at Witherdeen.” Joy filled her heart. “We cannot deprive Mrs Hendrie of a chance to catch a posy. And a celebration is just what’s needed to banish the ghosts.”

“Agreed.” Bennet cupped her face. “I promise you Witherdeen will be a happy home.” He kissed her nose, kissed her chin. When his mouth captured hers, when she felt the power of their love deep in her soul, it occurred to her they had kept their pledge.

Promise you’ll find me when you’re old enough.

Promise you’ll return if you can.

* * *

Witherdeen Hall, Hampshire

Two weeks later

“I’m sorry I can’t stay tonight, Julianna.” Rachel Gambit glanced over her shoulder, saw Mr Daventry conversing with Bennet, and turned back to the group of ladies who worked for the Order. “I hate to miss the wedding celebrations, but I’m to meet my client tomorrow night at Vauxhall. He’s given specific instructions. One mistake, and he will choose another agent.”

“You were here for the ceremony, and that’s what matters.” Julianna’s stomach performed a somersault. She was the Marchioness Devereaux. More importantly, she was Bennet’s wife. “Besides, you’ve been eagerly awaiting an assignment, and I’m confident you’ll impress the gentleman.”

Eliza Dutton’s eyes widened. “I’m sure he will choose you, Rachel. But it’s a shame you can’t stay. Julianna is to give us a tour of the ruins tomorrow.”

Rachel laughed. “There’s every chance he’ll reject me. In which case, I shall hop on the first stage back to Hampshire.”

Julianna took one look at Rachel’s vibrant countenance. Any man would be a fool to cast her aside. “Mr Daventry said you’re to undergo tests.”

Rachel shrugged. “It’s all a bit dramatic if you ask me. The first test involves identifying him amid the crush at Vauxhall’s masquerade. Mr Hunter wishes to test my intuitive powers, to make sure I can think on my feet. He’s quite precise in his requirements. I’m to wear a red gown. Red slippers. A red mask.”

Honora Wild touched her hand to her throat. “Vauxhall? In February? Surely you’re not venturing there alone.”

“It’s a special event, open for one night. Mr and Mrs D’Angelo are to accompany me until Mr Hunter appears.”

“You won’t be the only woman in red.” Julianna wondered why he insisted Rachel wear such a vibrant colour. “It’s a rather odd request.”

“Indeed. Mr D’Angelo said the man favours black.”

Eliza suddenly gasped and skirted behind Honora. “Don’t look now, but the lord is staring again.”

Julianna turned to see Roxburgh leaning languidly against the wall, watching them. “Ignore him, Eliza. He’s a rake and a rogue and loves nothing more than to appear intimidating.” Still, Julianna was rather fond of the man, and Bennet needed a friend he could trust.

Bennet must have sensed Roxburgh was up to no good, for he joined the lord and thrust a glass of brandy into his hand. They conversed while glancing in Eliza’s direction. Miss Trimble must have noticed the lord’s lecherous gaze, too, because she hurried across the room to join their group.

“If that man asks any of you to stroll in the gardens, tell him you’ve twisted your ankle.” Miss Trimble was an attractive woman of thirty who was rather guarded when it came to her personal affairs. Still, protecting her ladies was her life’s mission.

Julianna laughed. “Knowing Lord Roxburgh, he’ll have two footmen fetch a sedan.” She caught Bennet’s eye, and he beckoned her over. “I believe my husband needs me, but please, make yourselves at home. And avoid the stairs leading to the west wing. Lord Roxburgh often prowls there after dark.”

“Perhaps I could use the lord to practise my verbal sparring,” Rachel replied. “No doubt he’s tamer than a man named Hunter.”

Julianna left Miss Trimble chastising Rachel for mentioning a client’s name aloud. She joined Bennet and Roxburgh, whose wandering eye had caused such a stir.

“You’re making my friends nervous, my lord.” Julianna tapped Roxburgh playfully on the arm. “Now you’ve parted ways with Mrs Prickle, don’t think to choose a mistress from this group.”

“Who’s the lady with hair as black as my heart?”

“I’m not telling you. Forget you’ve seen her.”

Bennet tsked. “I’ve told him she’s an enquiry agent for the Order, that Lucius Daventry will kill him if he even looks at his agent in the wrong way.”

“Perhaps I shall find a reason to hire her services,” Roxburgh drawled.

“She doesn’t provide the sort of services you require.”

“I might need help finding my conscience.”

“I doubt a man with Daventry’s skill could locate that,” Bennet said. “Now, drink your brandy and behave. I wish to walk to the ruins with my wife.” There was a sensual tone to his voice that said they’d be doing more than walking.

Roxburgh merely grinned. “Don’t concern yourself with me. I shall engage the ladies in conversation and be my usual charming self.”

“I’m not concerned.” Julianna took hold of her husband’s arm. “Miss Trimble will flay you alive at the merest hint of disrespect.”

Bennet slapped his friend affectionately on the back, then led Julianna into the hall where Mrs Hendrie stood holding a green velvet pelisse. The housekeeper had cried with happiness upon learning Julianna was to marry Bennet, and had worn a permanent grin all day.

“Thank you, Mrs Hendrie.” Bennet accepted the proffered pelisse.

Bless her! Mrs Hendrie walked away with a skip in her step.

“It’s rather cold out, and it’s my duty to protect you.” Bennet helped her into the garment and set about fastening the buttons. “Though you won’t need gloves as I intend to stop every few minutes and warm your hands.”

She gazed into his captivating eyes. “Do you think I should have told Roxburgh that Eliza’s father was a reckless gambler who left his daughter destitute?”

“No, he’s bound to make a flippant comment, and he needs a strong woman to put him in his place. Perhaps you should have told him Miss Gambit always carries a weapon. We’ll likely return to find a blade pinning his coattails to the console table.”

Julianna laughed. “That’s a sight I wouldn’t want to miss.”

Bennet glanced at the cubbyhole under the stairs. He clasped her hands. “When you left on that stormy night, I thought my world had ended. I never thought I’d see you again. Now you’re the love of my life, my darling wife.”

Julianna brought his hands to her lips and pressed a lingering kiss to his knuckles. “I’ve come home to you, Bennet.”

“Let’s make a promise never to let our problems consume us. Let’s promise to be as playful with each other as we were when we were children.”

She arched a brow. “I think we’re far more playful than we were then. The games you like to play would have seemed shocking.”

Those sensual amber eyes raked her body. “Who will decide what game we play tonight? Might I suggest the first one to the cottage earns a privilege pass?”

“In long skirts, I’m at a disadvantage. Might I suggest we walk to the cottage?” Once there, she would have him out of those clothes in a flash. “Let’s conserve our energy. I think we’re going to need it for a far more intimate pursuit. Don’t you?”