As he wheeled it in, Elizabeth was almost relieved by the interruption. “Shall we have some tea?” She smiled. “Our chef also makes wonderful scones.”
“I am afraid I must return to town immediately,” Virginia said, making no move to sit.
Elizabeth decided that a hasty departure would be for the best. “Walden? Have my coach brought around and tell Jeffries that he will take Miss Hughes to London.”
“Yes, my lady,” Walden said, quickly leaving.
Elizabeth poured a cup of tea. “Are you certain you do not wish some tea before you leave?”
Virginia shook her head, moving to the window. She stared outside.
Elizabeth remarked her poor manners, sipping the tea herself. Yes, she was very fetching, but surely that was not why Devlin had made her his mistress. No, it had something to do with some kind of vendetta he held against her family. There was no other explanation.
Ten minutes later, Virginia was in the countess’s coach. Wrapped in a cashmere shawl, Elizabeth waved as the coach rolled down the drive. Then she ceased smiling and hurried inside. “Walden, where is the earl?”
“He has taken a walk with the hounds,” Walden replied.
That was good. “And William?”
“In the library, my lady.”
Her heart raced. She despised William and sometimes she was even afraid of him, but there was no choice. She hurried through the house, purposefully not looking at the patches of peeling paint, the scarred tabletops or the cracked floors. The library door was closed; she hesitated and then walked in.
William sat at the desk with a quill in hand. He looked up, vastly displeased with the impolitic interruption.
“I must speak with you,” she said, closing the door behind her.
His brows lifted. “Really? How odd,” he said, standing. And his gaze moved over her in a sexually suggestive manner.
He made her want to vomit. She had not a doubt that if she were willing, he would bend her over that desk and do as he pleased. “Miss Hughes was just here.”
His eyes widened. “What did she want?”
Elizabeth shrugged—she would never tell him anything without very carefully deciding whom it might aid and whom it might hurt. “What does O’Neill want with us?”
“In general, or specifically?” he asked coldly.
She did not understand him. “I think something odd is afoot. First myself, now my niece. And then there is Waverly Hall. I also heard he wished to kill Thomas at the Carew ball. Can you explain this?”
William left his desk.
She stiffened as he approached.
“There is little to understand, now, is there…Mother?He tired of you and he chose a far prettier, far younger figure and face.”
She felt her cheeks heat.
He stood an inch away. “He has asked for a ransom for Miss Hughes.”
She was stunned. “What?”
“That’s right. You see, my dear stepmother, it is all quite simple—and quite clever. He has kept her a prisoner, and when we refused to pay his ransom, he decided to destroy this family in reputation as he could not do so in finance.”
Elizabeth was stunned. “She was never a real mistress….”
“Oh, he made her his mistress, all right. I do think that is obvious. But it had nothing to do with love, or even lust, so you can rest more easily. You lost only to revenge. You see, your dear husband murdered O’Neill’s father years ago, and we have been paying the price ever since.”
VIRGINIA CROUCHED IN THE TREES,shivering, as the drizzle turned to rain. She wished the fine weather in Hampshire had extended to London, but it had not—by the time she had reached town, rain threatened, and she was regretting not accepting the countess’s offer of tea and cakes, as she had not eaten a thing all day. Even more so, she regretted the countess’s state of finances. It had seemed clear that she was a compassionate woman and that she would have helped Virginia if she could have done so.
