Page 68 of A Countess Never Tells

“You seem tough enough to take some killing.” John grinned at her, and suddenly she did feel steadier. No wonder men drank the stuff all the time. “If your hysterics are over, my dear, I think you should hear what Ashwood has to say about what occurred last night.”

Kitty began to rise, but after a dark glare from John, she lowered herself into the chair once more. She gazed into her empty tumbler then held it out to her brother. “If you insist that I endure this, you will pour me another.”

John quirked an eyebrow upward then shrugged and did as she bade him. Brandy apparently gave you courage. She needed to remember that in future. Perhaps that was why women were forbidden to drink it. When he replaced the tumbler in her hand, another good tot of brandy swirling around the bottom, she nodded and braced herself.

“All right, Ashwood.” John sat opposite her and nodded to Ash.

“Kitty.”

Her name on his tongue cut her heart like a knife thrust in to the hilt.

“I beg of you to listen to me. We, the both of us, were duped last night. Your brother concurs in this.”

She couldn’t bring herself to look at Ash, but his pleading voice had the proper amount of contrition in it. “You duped me, my lord. I believed you loved me and then you betrayed me with that…woman.” She raised the glass and gulped the brandy. It didn’t burn quite so much this time. “And God only knows how many others.”

“Kitty, I didn’t betray you.”

She jumped to her feet and stared her tormentor in the face. “Then who did, my lord? I would swear on the Holy Cross itself that was you in the bed with a whore last night.”

“No more brandy for you, my dear.” Her brother plucked the glass from her fingers and set it on the table. “Sit down, Kitty, and let Ashwood explain.”

“Let her stand, Haxby. At least she’s looking at me.” Ash’s familiar grin was absent, his face grim as a pallbearer. “Yes, you are correct, Kitty. You did see me in bed with a woman last night. And I would give anything in the wide world for you not to have seen such a sight. But I swear to you on the Holy Cross, it was no plan of my devising.”

If Ash hadn’t planned it, hadn’t wanted her to see him like that, then who would wish to make her hate him? With a gasp, she swung around to face John, her jaw dropping in outrage. “You? You did this to me, brother?”

“Good God, no.” John threw himself back in the chair, frowning thunderously. “I gave you my blessing, didn’t I? I’ve been trying to get the two of you married for the past week or more. Why would I change course for no reason?”

“Then, it was…” Kitty stood swaying, the brandy’s courage deserting her. She searched Ash’s eyes. “It truly was Baltimore?”

He nodded. “I suspect he’s been planning this for weeks. Long enough to find a forger to write notes for both you and me.”

“What do you mean?” She backed up and felt for the chair, suddenly needing to sit. “You sent me the note last night asking me to come to your house.”

“I’m sorry, my dear, but I did not.” His eyes were kind, but she couldn’t look into them for long. “Neither did your brother send me a note with a bottle of cognac. Especially not one laced with laudanum.”

“What?” Kitty’s head reeled. “You took laudanum last night?”

Ash shook his head. “I drank some brandy I thought your brother had sent me. Then I felt extremely groggy and went immediately to bed. I remember having vivid, wild dreams about you in the orangery at home and then I thought you were there in the bed with me.” Ash shrugged. “I suppose I so wanted it to be true, my mind and the laudanum made it true.” He looked away, as though her scrutiny was unbearable at last. “When I awakened this morning, my head was foggy and there was a woman in my bed who was not you. Once I realized you’d been there, had seen…what you’d seen, I too accused your brother of using the subterfuge to turn you against me.”

“A convenient scapegoat, but the wrong devil, I assure you.” John sipped his brandy, keenly watching them both.

“Baltimore knew exactly what would make you abhor me and orchestrated it perfectly. You were in the room while I was drugged and unable to defend myself either to you or from that woman.”

The scene flashed effortlessly in her mind: Ash laid out in the bed, the woman on top of him. He’d looked as though he was staring at her, but he’d been still as a stone. He hadn’t even moved when he’d cried out at the end. Neither had he looked as though he’d been enjoying himself. If what Ash was saying was true, she should forgive him. As he’d said, he was as much a victim as her. Only somehow it didn’t feel that way. He’d betrayed her, and she didn’t know if she could ever forgive him.

“Allow me to ask you one thing, my lord.” Kitty met Ash’s gaze, but without any trace of softness. “Do you have a footman named William?”

That took Ash aback. He cocked his head, thinking seriously about her question. “No, I cannot recall ever having a William, either here in London or at the home estate. My current footmen are James, John, and George.”

Kitty shook her head. “Poor Joan.”

John and Ash looked at one another, confusion written on their faces.

“I believe I have found the spy in our household, albeit an unwitting one.” Kitty would have to talk to the maid. “The maid you gave your note to before told me she’s been walking out with your footman, William, for some weeks now. I rather suspect he will disappear from Joan’s life now his mission has been completed.”

“Just so.” Ash shook his head then began to nod it. “I believe we can use William once for our own benefit.”

“What do you have in mind, Ashwood?” John’s interest encouraged Kitty to believe her brother truly harbored no ill will against Ash for last night’s escapade.