“Me? Why?”
Beth pulled herself together and sat up a little. Her bonnet was askewand the silly curls were plastered by tears to her cheek. “I must look asight. . . Because you would revenge me. He was utterly mad.”
“What I want to know,” asked Lucien with an attempt to severity, “ishow you came into his hands. How you came here at all.”
“I came to check on Clarissa,” said Beth.
“You had no business coming anywhere near this house.”
“You brought me here last night!”
“An unfortunate necessity. You will not come here again. It’s theoutside of enough ?”
Beth leapt to her feet and stood facing him. “You will not rule me,Lucien de Vaux. Husband or no husband, marquess, duke, or king!”
After a stunned moment, Lucien burst into laughter. “Oh, Beth. Howcould I survive without you? Don’t tell me. You and Blanche arebosom-bows.”
“Precisely.”
“Beth, you can’t . . .” He shook his head. “Oh, to hell with it. Youprobably can. Hal’s mad enough to marry her, too, if he can get her toagree. I suppose it’s no worse than John Lade marrying Sixteen-StringJack’s leavings.”
“Who?”
“You’ve probably never met Letty Lade. Doesn’t exactly move in mymother’s circles. Sir John’s coaching mad and so’s his wife. Own their ownrig and drive like maniacs. Letty’s an innkeeper’s daughter from EastCheap and she took up with a highwayman, Sixteen-String Jack. When he washanged, she married Sir John, but she’s still a foul-mouthed trull atheart. Blanche is another type entirely.”
“She certainly ?”
“Oh!” They were interrupted by Clarissa, huddled forgotten in a cornerof the sofa. “Howcanyou? Beth, I thought you were a lady. A person ofsensibility. These people are all mad. Everyone’s mad. That woman is a ...a ...” She glared at them and forced the word out. “A whore! She’s justkilled someone. Up there.” She looked at the molded ceiling with dilatedeyes. “I keep expecting blood to seep down. Did you see all theblood?”
Beth quickly picked up the girl’s glass. “Clarissa, drink this!” Sheforced the liquid into the shaking girl’s mouth. Clarissa spluttered andstarted to choke. Beth thumped her firmly on the back, and the girlstarted to cry.
Beth took her shoulders in a firm grip. “Clarissa, stop that, andlisten to me. All this has happened because of you. I won’t say it wasyour fault, but this has come about because of people trying to helpyou.”
Clarissa stopped crying and stared at Beth, looking much younger thaneighteen.
“Mrs. Hardcastle has been kind to you. She did what she did to save usall, me from death and you from Lord Deveril. It is not for you to judgeher morals.”
“But ?”
“No.”
Clarissa subsided.
Beth let the girl go. “I am not sure what we’re going to do now, butyou are to tell no one, no one at all, about what has happened here today.Do you understand?”
Clarissa nodded. “But what is to become of me?”
“Well, at least,” drawled the marquess, “you won’t have to marryDeveril. Pity you weren’t already hitched, though. You’d be a richwidow.”
Beth had an inspiration but schooled her features. She wasn’t sure itwas one she wanted to share with Lucien just yet.
There was a knock at the door, a significant pattern of raps. Lucienhurried to open it. Nicholas Delaney came in with Lord Middlethorpe. Hisquick gold-flecked eyes took in the bound men, glass on the floor, thestreaks of blood on the banister, and the gory knife. “Francis, we’vemissed the action.”
Lord Middlethorpe pocketed the pistol in his hand. “Is everyone allright. Luce?” he asked. “We just got an incoherent message from your manDooley.”
“Everyone except Deveril,” Lucien said with a meaningful glance at theknife.
“I rejoice,” said Nicholas with a smile. “Who gets the reward?”
