Page 79 of A Rake's Redemption
Miranda turned, about to remind him she was a countess and should be addressed as a lady, but she remembered in time she’d assumed another name for this trip. She certainly did not want to call attention to herself. “May I go there now? I’m quite tired and would like to rest.”
“Certainement. If you will follow me,s’il vous plait?”
She adjusted her black mourning bonnet so more of her face was hidden and followed the man down a very steep staircase near the stern of the ship and into a short hallway. When he opened a door and stepped aside so she could enter, she silently cursed. The “stateroom” had a narrow cot attached to the bulkhead and a small table bolted to the wall across from it with a gimbaled oil lamp that swung over it. A metal chamber pot sat in brass braces in the corner. The whole place was not even the size of one of her closets, but she dare not complain. She’d been lucky to find a ship leaving for France on such short notice. “Thank you,” she said. “I should not like to be disturbed.”
“Of course, madame. My sympathies for your loss.” The first mate bowed and shut the door behind him.
Miranda tossed the bonnet on the bed and took off the plain black cape that covered a drab black gown. She hated the color, but as a grieving widow going to France to collect the body of her dead husband, she could hardly wear anything else. Her more colorful clothing rested in the trunks, along with her jewels and enough cash to sustain her for quite a while.
She sat down on the hard-backed chair next to the table, not surprised to find it bolted to the floor. She hated ships, but at least it was a short trip. She cursed aloud now that no one could hear. If it weren’t for that idiot maid Fern blundering once again, she would not have to be doing this at all. That Irish bitch should be dead. Now, her plan to show Alex they were meant for each other had to be put on hold.
When Fern had come to her two days ago with the news that Inis O’Brien had survived the poisoning, Miranda had refused to pay the stupid girl. She obviously had not put enough belladonna—expensive belladonna Miranda had furnished her with—in the truffle.
The girl had looked sullen when she left, and Miranda had held no naive beliefs she would remain loyal, even if her sister was in Miranda’s employ. Miranda doubted anyone would believe a maid’s word against that of a countess, especially since Miranda had never had any direct contact with the Irish hoyden. But the scandal of an inquisition was unacceptable. As a precaution, Miranda thought a trip to the Continent might be strategic at this time, although she’d told her husband she wanted to take the waters at Bath for several weeks. He hadn’t questioned her, but then she’d taught him years ago it was much wiser not to.
She heard the shouted commands of the first mate and the sounds of the crew’s feet on the deck above as they moved to ready for sail. The ship slowly swayed and then rocked from side to side as it caught the current. It gathered speed as the rowers dipped oars, and Miranda gave a sigh of relief.
She was on her way out of England.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alex lifted the decanter of brandy and poured a healthy portion into his snifter. He took a large swallow, allowing the liquid to light its fiery warmth in his belly and spread to the rest of him. Every muscle was tight. It had been a long and hectic day since they’d questioned Fern, and it still wasn’t over.
He owed Inis an explanation.
As if on cue, a soft knock rapped at his door, and Inis entered. He gave her a wary look. She’d hardly spoken after Fern’s confession, and he’d left with the magistrate when Fern had been taken away.
“Would you like some brandy?” he asked. “Or sherry?”
Inis shook her head. “Evans said you wanted to see me.”
She wasn’t going to make this easy. Alex was tempted to take another gulp for fortification, but he put the glass down instead. He gestured toward the armchairs. “Please have a seat.”
Although she didn’t perch on the edge, neither did she settle in and look comfortable. He supposed he wouldn’t, either, given the news that someone she didn’t even know had tried to kill her. He took a chair near hers.
“First of all, rest assured that Fern will never set foot in this house again. I suspect she will be spending a number of years in Newgate.”
“What about Lady Benton?” Inis asked.
Alex had wanted to ease into that, but he should have known Inis would not want to wait. “Miranda has gone to Bath to take the waters,” Alex said. “Two officials have been dispatched to fetch her back for questioning.”
Inis gave him a skeptical look. “Just how much questioning do ye think a magistrate is going to do with a countess?”
“She will be held to account.”
“Nobility is rarely held to account. Besides, isn’t her husband also a good friend of your brother’s? Your brother, theduke,” Inis added for emphasis. “Dukes wield a lot of power. No one will dare touch her.”
TouchingMiranda Locke was what had led to all of this, but Alex was not about to bring that up. He set his jaw. “I am going to follow through on this.”
His first reaction earlier had been to ride directly to Benton’s and demand answers from Miranda, but the magistrate had insisted he allow the law to proceed. Alex had agreed, realized that bursting into Benton’s house and accusing his wife of trying to kill Inis would have raised the question ofwhy,which in turn would have forced Benton to call Alex out. Avoiding a direct confrontation with Benton would allow the man to save face. At least, that’s what Alex hoped.
“So, why did she do it?” Inis asked.
“Why? I don’t know.”
Inis sighed as though she were dealing with a very dim-witted child. At the moment, he felt like one. He really didn’t have any idea why Miranda had gone to such extremes.
“I realize the countess was a member of your…club,” Inis said, which made Alex wince. “Was she somehow special? I ken it is nae my business.”
