If He's Wicked. Hannah Howell

Edgar.

      “Why not? You have certainly fulfilled the role for these past three years,” Julian said. “I might as well make it official.” He scowled at Chloe. “Of course, all this pretty hair nonsense must cease.”

      Chloe rolled her eyes. “He is just a little boy. Time enough to turn him into a manly man.” She looked toward the fireplace and mumbled, “A manly man with pretty hair.”

      “Does she practice how to be irritating?” Julian asked Leopold.

      “Nay,” replied Leopold. “It comes quite naturally, I fear.”

      Chloe gave both men a look of disgust and then asked, “Are we to plot our plots now?”

      “Ah, well, the foremost plot had already been set in motion,” said Leopold. “His lordship remains hidden, giving rise to the belief that he is dead. He needs to heal and regain his strength.”

      “A bit thin, but what about his coachman?”

      “He was unconscious, if you recall, and too far away to see the attack. We found the carriage, and put it and the coachman out on the heath. My men stood watch to make sure no harm came to the man until he was discovered. We scattered enough blood in the carriage to cause the ones who found it to cry murder.”

      “A cry Beatrice and Arthur took up?” Julian asked even though he already knew the answer.

      “I fear so, and quite loudly as well,” replied Leopold. “The first cast of the die has been made. Now you must do your best to heal and get strong.”

      “I am not really capable of doing much else right now, am I.”

      “Do not sound so disgusted with yourself. It was but three days ago that you were attacked and stabbed—twice. You are capable of thinking, however, m’lord. After another day or two of rest, I will put your mind to work on all the information I have gathered.”

      “Information but no proof?”

      “Proof has been a little difficult to grasp. I have not been able to get too close or to search any of your properties.” Leo made himself comfortable at the foot of the bed just as Edgar returned. “Your servants provide only a rumor or two. The most telling thing is that it is not loyalty that stills their tongues concerning Lady Beatrice and Sir Arthur. It is abject fear.”

      “And I have offered them no hope of freedom from that, have I. First because I was so besotted and bewitched and then because I was so caught up in my own misery.” Julian felt utterly disgusted with himself. “Melvin worked in the stables at Colinsmoor,” he added softly. “I was told that he quit, went to find his fortune in the Colonies.”

      “I believe it is called America now,” Leopold said and smiled briefly before growing serious again. “Melvin is undoubtedly dead. He probably found out something and they knew he would warn you. Unfortunately, we cannot find this pit Chloe heard of or anyone to speak of it. They do not speak openly of Melvin, either.”

      “The midwife also disappeared after the babies were exchanged,” said Chloe.

      “Are any of the rest of my family in danger?” asked Julian.

      “Your mother and sisters are safe enough,” Leopold replied. “They are not a threat to what your wife and uncle want. Your younger brother Nigel is being protected. Not so difficult as he is with our army in Canada. I sent word to a relative there once this deadly game began, and your brother is constantly guarded. However, I recently got word that he tires of the military and foreign climes. He is considering selling out and coming back home, something he will do when and if he gets news of your death. That makes it even more imperative that we cease this waiting and act.”

      “You seem sure your relative can protect Nigel, yet, if my uncle believes I am dead—”

      “Do not worry. My relative can still protect him and will continue to do so even if your brother decides to sell out and journey home. Once he is here, we can watch out for him if my relative decides to return to Canada. This particular Vaughn, a cousin, has a true skill for sensing who is a threat.” Leopold shrugged when Julian looked skeptical. “’Tis the truth. Trust me. Even someone who is simply in a foul humor will have difficulty approaching your brother.”

      Julian did not argue but was not fully reassured, either. Within a few moments he was too weary to participate in the conversation even though it concerned keeping him alive. Soon the Wherlockes politely withdrew but Edgar lingered at his bedside. Julian gave his old friend a tired smile.

      “You can trust them, you know,” Edgar said.

      “I would be a low churl if I did not,” Julian said. “Not only do I owe them for the life of my child as well as my own, but they have watched o’er my family whilst I wallowed in drink and whores.”

      Edgar patted Julian on his uninjured shoulder. “Do not flay yourself with guilt. Such betrayal as you have suffered can make a man crazed.”

      “It made me a useless, self-pitying fool. S’blood, but I am done with that. As Leopold said, ’tis time to end this game.”

      “Yes, for that child’s sake if naught else. A bright lad.” Edgar rubbed a hand over his slightly prominent chin. “Anthony might call Miss Wherlocke Cohee, but, well, it will be difficult to part them, I fear.”

      “I know.” Julian barely smothered a yawn. “It will also be difficult to explain how it is I suddenly have an heir.”

      “Not when we defeat your enemies and the truth comes out. It will, you know. For the boy’s sake, it must.”

      “True. The scandal will sorely hurt my mother and sisters. And now, they will grieve for me, believing I am dead.”

      “Better that than you, Nigel, and that child dying. Rest. You will need all of your strength for the fight that lies ahead. Soon Leopold and I will present you with all the man and I have discovered about Beatrice and your uncle.”

      “God help me, how could I have been such an idiot, such a blind fool?”

      “Beatrice’s allure is the sort that utterly bewitches a man, blinding him to the evil in her heart. Even I felt it. And no, I do not believe your uncle is so blinded. In truth, I believe he and Beatrice are a mating of like souls.” Edgar winked, his blue eyes bright with amusement as he stood up and headed out the door. “Soon they will get what they so richly deserve—swallowed by the Pitahell Monster.”

      Julian was surprised to find himself smiling as he carefully shifted his body into a more comfortable position. He realized he had not really lied to his son when he had told the boy he had been lost. In many ways it was the cold, ugly truth. Grief, bruised pride, and a deep sense of humiliation had taken him to a very dark place, but he was free of that now. He bore scars, wounds he feared would never heal, but he was ready to face his troubles now. He had a son to protect, a child to raise, and that gave him a sense of purpose he had not felt in a long, long time. As sleep dragged him into its folds, he wondered why the image of an impudent woman with inky blue eyes lingered in his thoughts.

      Chapter 3

      “Damn them,” Julian muttered as he let the last of the papers Leopold had given him fall into his lap and slumped against the pillows. After a full night of sleep he had thought himself strong enough to face even more hard, ugly truths, but he was not so sure of that now. “Do you think it was all planned from the very beginning? That I was naught but a pawn from the start?”

      “That is a possibility,” replied Leo as he straightened up a little in the chair he had set next to Julian’s bed. “I am sorry to get so personal, but was your wife a virgin?”

      “I think not.” Julian felt himself blush faintly. “I was not vastly experienced when I married and had never bedded down with a virgin. Would probably never have done so even if the opportunity had been there. I saw no glory in dishonoring some foolish, naïve innocent. As for Beatrice, things I have learned since make me believe she feigned all