Page 143 of Ironvine

“What the devil could you possibly—”

“Matthew told me that he had every intention of courting Miss Georgina at that last ball in London, proposing to her—”

“Did he now?”

“But then, a surprising turn of events occurred. At the ball, she asked Matthew to position himself in the gardens of the house where she would bring out Hugh for a stroll. Matthew was to watch from a distance. And what did he witness? Georgina kissing Hugh, allowing him many, many liberties with her person. Matthew was to call them out, to force Hugh’s hand. But he didn’t have the chance, as you arrived and interrupted the brazen seduction, insisting that your brother marry her. Shameless girl to attempt to seduce an Earl into an engagement.

“Naturally when Hugh died unexpectedly, she was in a desperate state and turned to you. Did she beg you to take her? Did you take pity on her with your cock so her reputation would remain untarnished? No, no, there’s a better word—intact.” She burst into laughter.

“You are vile.”

“Georgina is only a younger version of me, only not as clever, I think.”

“Oh, she’s nothing like you. Never has been.”

“She is the me I was before I made the mistake of marrying so rashly out of boredom, impatience, and, it must be said, vanity.”

“Pray, what is this? Self-reflection? I am all astonishment.”

“I am glad that I must no longer live by William’s rules and his petty disappointments in me, nor bear his judgements and punishments. Never again,” her voice blazed.

“Still no pity for your dead husband, eh?”

“No. Never.”

Georgina’s description of Amanda that morning before the duel flashed in his memory. She’d been disheveled, bruised, out of sorts. Extremely bitter.

“I tell you this, Charles. When I saw his dead body brought home, I swore then that I would never suffer such a man again.”

Images of William at Hyde Park that morning coursed through his brain. William rubbing at his eyes, stumbling, wavering, bracing himself with effort to raise the pistol. He’d found it odd. So unlike William.

His gut hardened. “You gave William laudanum before the duel, didn’t you? Put it in something he drank before he left for Hyde Park so he wouldn’t be his sharpest.”

She met his gaze evenly. “They both agreed to a duel, did they not? One of them might die, that’s the risk taken by gentlemen. That risk is understood and accepted. And it is in that acceptable risk that anything can happen. In that acceptable risk lay my opportunity.”

A tight grin cracked over her features. “Hugh was obviously the fitter of the two. William hadn’t gone hunting or even held a firearm since we’d quit the country. His pursuits in town had been wholly different–every night at his club, dinner parties, gaming, whores—”

“You poisoned William.”

“I only thought to tip the scales even more in Hugh’s favour.”

“Come now, Mrs. Treharne, in Hugh’s favour? Or yours?”

She did not offer a reply. She was pleased with herself. Gloating to him, even now.

“Well, what a great pity you’ll never know if Hugh was grateful for your efforts on his behalf.” He turned around to walk away.

“Oh, he wasn’t grateful,” she spit out. “He was only vile and mean and proved to be a liar of the worst kind.”

He stilled.How the devil did she know what he thought of it?The blood chilled in his veins. His lips parted to speak.

“I say, Ryvves, are you hiding from us?” Whatley’s voice rang out like the crash of cymbals and Charles’s spine straightened. Whatley came up close and touched his arm, and Charles jerked away from him.

“I would speak to you, my lord—Oh!” Whatley gasped loudly, his eyes widening at the sight of Amanda. “My darling, Mrs. Treharne, how wonderful to see you!” Whatley lunged at her, giving her a kiss on both sides of her taut face in the French manner. “I had hoped you’d be here. What is a party without your vivacity and wicked wit?”

“Mr. Whatley, you are too kind.” Amanda winced at his grip on her hands through a hard smile.

“I leave you both to your enjoyments then.”

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