“To the gallows?” Sophie shrieked so loudly that both Frannie and Celia lunged to cover her mouth. She batted them away and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Who is sending you to the gallows?”
“Elias.” Celia pulled in a deep breath, determined to harden herself and accept the deal she had made with the devil. “To give Mama peace until her time comes, he said we should marry and give her the perception that we are a loving couple. Since she is already well on her way to the grave, he said his conscience couldn’t bear it if he were the one to make her last days unbearable by sending us to prison and then on to be hanged. But once she is gone and laid to rest in Germany, he will turn me over to the authorities. After all, as a solicitor, he cannot be privy to any activities as reprehensible as impersonating a peer and committing innumerable fraudulent activities.”
“He actually plans to turn you in after your mother dies?” Frannie asked in a horrified whisper.
“To protect himself, his career, and his illustrious firm.” Celia pushed herself up from the sofa, crossed the room, and yanked on the golden bellpull embroidered with rich green leaves of ivy. When Gransdon entered, she no longer had the energy to manage a smile. “I know it is quite late, Gransdon, but please bring us any cold meats and cheeses Cook might be willing to prepare. And wine, Gransdon. Copious amounts of wine.”
“Right away, Miss Bening.”
“And Gransdon,” she called out before he lumbered down the hall. “Miss Bening the companion no longer exists. Please spread the word that everyone may relax and call me Lady Cecilia.”
Gransdon behaved as though the request was as normal as any other. “Yes, my lady.” After a proper nod, he turned and left.
“Raines cannot mean to do this to you.” Sophie rose and worried her way back and forth across the room. “The man told you he loved you. You said you loved him.”
“Men will say anything.” Much to her shame, Celia’s voice cracked, and tears escaped. “I am a damned fool for believing him and shall pay for it with my life!”
“Oh, Celia!” Sophie rushed to her side, and Frannie joined her.
“And another thing.” Celia sniffed and forced herself to hold it together. “He said not to tell either of you the truth of our arrangement. The fewer who knew the better, he said.” She huffed a bitter laugh. “I told him I wouldn’t tell you.” More tears escaped, and this time, she didn’t fight them. “I will lie to him, but I will never lie to you, my sisters.”
All three of them wept together, then hurried to turn away and hide their sorrow when Gransdon and Friedrich entered with their late repast.
“Will that be all, my lady?” the butler asked, a hint of concern shading his tone.
“Yes. Thank you, Gransdon.” Celia offered a nod, then quickly turned aside again.
“Lady Cecilia?” Friedrich said. “Can we help you?”
“I fear I am beyond helping, Friedrich, but I very much appreciate the offer.” She managed a smile and waved them away. “Go to your beds, gentlemen. I know you are weary. When the ladies and I finish, it can be cleared away tomorrow.”
Gransdon and Friedrich each gave her a somber bow, then departed and closed the doors behind them.
Frannie hurried to the table and poured them each a glass of wine. Her eyes narrowed as she handed one to Celia. “Perhaps you might become a widow soon after your mother’s death.Beforeyour beloved husband has a chance to turn you in.”
“I am a fraud, Frannie. Not a murderer.” Celia took a very large, unladylike gulp.
“You don’t have to be the one to kill him,” Sophie said while picking through a platter of sweetmeats.
“Both of you stop.” While thoughts of slapping Elias might currently bring her no small amount of pleasure, Celia couldn’t imagine actually killing him. After all, the crime was hers to pay for. And damn and blast it all! She still loved him.
“So, you truly mean to marry him?” Sophie asked as she held out a platter of cold meats.
“That was the agreement.” Celia waved away the food, opting for more wine instead. “The price of his silence until Mama passes.” She stared down at the ruby liquid swirling in the glass. “It is the least I can do after Mama chose me over the man she loved. She deserves peace.”
“Surely, the marriage will be in name only?” Frannie snapped off a bite of apple while arching a brow.
“I would imagine so, judging by the revulsion on his face when I told him that Charles did not exist.” Celia lowered herself back onto the sofa, crossed her legs at the ankles, and rudely propped her feet on the low table in front of her. The memory of the disgust in his eyes made her tears spill over again.
“A shame, really,” she said softly. “Because I really did love him.” She trembled with a sad little shrug. “Still do.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Tell me, damnyou!” Monty circled him. “You’ve been at this since I got you home, and it’s nearly dawn.”
Stripped down to his waist, sweat streaming down his body, Elias pummeled the long black leather bag suspended from a rafter in the ceiling of his cellar. “I am not yet ready to speak of it,” he said between hard punches.
“In the carriage, you said the doctor from Edinburgh left you with the impression that he might help the duchess. At least grant her a bit more comfort in her final days.” Monty caught the bag and stopped it from swinging, then widened his stance to prepare for a more vicious attack. “Fortuitous news—correct?”
