If He's Wicked. Hannah Howell

tale of how she enacted that lie again and again reminded me very strongly of Beatrice on our wedding night. I was sorely tempted to ask the woman if she had ever taught her tricks to a lady, to my wife, but I could not. S’blood, but I really did not wish to hear her answer,” he added softly.

      “Of course you did not. Eminently understandable.”

      “Oh? Eminently cowardly might be more accurate.”

      “Perhaps, but a cowardice most men would share. Betrayal had already sent you crawling through brothels. You did not need to hear of yet another one. In your place, I would not have wished to hear the answer, either. However, that does make me think my suspicions are correct, that your uncle chose Beatrice, that he wanted an ally as close to you as possible. Who better than a lover or a wife?”

      “Who better indeed? These papers show that they also seek to put me in debtor’s prison.”

      “Which neatly answers the question of why, does it not?” Leo said as he stood up and stretched before idly pacing the length of the room.

      “I suspect it does.”

      “From what I have seen and learned through careful investigation and observation, most of your lands and investments are intact and are carefully tended. It appears the pair does realize that they need to do at least that much to keep their purses full of your money. Other lands you own are not faring quite so well.” Leo shrugged. “They have no interest in them and so they bleed them dry and invest nothing in them. Since the rumor that you are dead is spreading fast and wide now, there have already been whispers seeping about saying that certain unentailed properties will soon enter the market.”

      Leo waited patiently as Julian indulged in a hearty, creative bout of cursing, then said, “There is no proof that you are dead, Julian, so it will be very difficult to dispense with your property too quickly.”

      “And Nigel is my heir, not my uncle. I also changed my will, leaving my wife a very small annuity. I thought of leaving her nothing at all but decided that would raise too many questions, the answers to which would be embarrassing for my family.”

      “But before that, she had a healthy widow’s portion, I suspect.”

      “She did and it included some property, but that property could not be sold without the new earl’s full approval.”

      “Who is in Canada. So, if your uncle could show that you gave him the right to act in your stead or made him the executor of your will…”

      “I never did such a thing, never gave him any rights or power at all. Of course, that does not mean that he could not produce some claim that he had them.” Julian grimaced. “What would a little forgery matter to such a man?”

      “True. He could also dispute your will as it was made in the heat of anger or any other excuse he can think of. So we must conjure up some way to put a spoke in his wheel.”

      “Such as what?” Julian was beginning to think that Leopold Wherlocke had a very devious mind.

      “Such as debts accrued during the year you were, well, not quite yourself.”

      “You mean whilst I acted the drunken debauchee,” Julian drawled, still feeling the pinch of shame and embarrassment over his behavior of the last year. “Unfortunately, I do not believe I have any outstanding debts, certainly not of the sort that could be used to grab fistfuls of any property I own.”

      Leo sat on the end of the bed and leaned against the thick bedpost. “Nay, you do not, but that does not mean we cannot produce a few. Do you think your uncle and your wife know of every little thing you have done over the past year?”

      Julian thought about that possibility for a few moments and then shook his head. “No, I think not. They have obviously kept a watch on what I was doing, and where, or hired someone else to do it so that they could plan their attempts to kill me, but I can think of several times when they would have had a good chance of succeeding yet nothing happened. And I did gamble and there were some losses, but nothing too severe.”

      “Then I believe it might be wise to conjure up a few sizeable debts, ones that could be produced quickly if the sale of certain properties looked imminent. Think of which properties you would truly regret losing and write a chit deeding it or its profits over to me or Edgar or both of us.”

      “You have an astonishingly devious mind,” Julian said, unable to hold the thought back any longer.

      “Thank you.”

      “I will give some hard thought to which properties I truly do not wish to lose and then see to it that you and Edgar have the proper papers to hold up any attempt to sell them for a very long time.”

      “Let us pray that we will not need a very long time to clean up this treacherous mess. Now, what about that will?”

      “As I said, I made a new one when I realized Beatrice had betrayed me, but I cannot be certain if it still exists. About six months ago, during one of my more sober days, I had a meeting with my solicitor and I got the strongest feeling that he had been corrupted. I told myself Beatrice’s betrayal was just making me too suspicious.”

      Leo nodded. “Possibly, but probably not true in this matter. A copy?”

      “There is one at Kenwood House, but if my solicitor does not stand behind it, it may not be worth very much. In it I left much of what was not entailed to Edgar, my sister, or my mother.” Julian grimaced. “Even if the copy has been found, Arthur could try to do as you have suggested—declare me incompetent at the time it was written.”

      “It could still serve to slow down any sales or gross thievery. It would tie their hands with all sorts of convoluted legalities. In truth, it could tie their hands in ways they have never been tied before.”

      “Of course. I have heard a few men bemoan such legal tangles from time to time. Yet, I would have thought my uncle clever enough to foresee all that. And Beatrice cannot believe she will be my uncle’s countess now that I am dead. Nigel is my heir, and Arthur and Beatrice cannot marry anyway. Even if my uncle was not married already, he is too close a relative to me to marry my widow, is he not?”

      Leo shrugged. “So he proves your marriage is not valid. Most women would shy away from the scandal that would cause but not, I think, your wife.”

      “Sadly true, and neither she nor my uncle would care that such a thing would mark my son as a bastard.”

      “Seeing as they were willing to let the child die—nay. And, remember, they think the boy is long dead.”

      Julian tensed. “If Arthur plans to marry Beatrice, then my aunt Mildred may be in danger.”

      “Quite possibly,” agreed Leo, “but not to worry. I have someone watching over her and your little cousins.”

      Staring at Leo in growing wonder, Julian asked, “Someone similar to the relative you have watching over my brother in Canada?”

      “In some ways, but better and far more suitable. A mature woman who now acts as a companion to your aunt and a governess to the girls.”

      “How much protection can a mature woman be?”

      “A lot, and her two hulking sons are always close at hand.” Leo smiled. “Your aunt needed some new footmen, you see.”

      “And they all have, er, gifts?”

      Leo smiled faintly. “I know you find it all very difficult to believe, but, aye, they all have gifts, ones that will make it nearly impossible for your uncle to hurt your aunt.”

      “I do not mean to insult you by doubting your word,” Julian said and then grimaced, knowing his doubt was indeed an insult, for it implied that Leo was a liar.

      “Doubt causes me no injuries. If I had not grown up with such gifts, if they did not infect my entire family like some strange plague, I am not sure I would easily believe in such things, either.”

      “Are