The Earl's Marriage Bargain (Liberated Ladies)

Peters, the maid, got her dressed while Mrs French and Jane sat looking at each other in silence. Then the housekeeper whispered, ‘What has happened?’

‘I am not sure,’ Jane murmured back. ‘But I think some fatal accident has befallen her husband.’

Daphne finally emerged, dressed. She was pale, her eyes were wide and dark, but she looked tragic and lovely and not blotchy, red-nosed and swollen-eyed, as Jane was all too aware she would have looked after that much weeping.

‘Are you feeling a little better now, Lady Meredith?’ Jane asked.

Daphne sank down in a chair and picked up her teacup, holding it as though it was a shield between her and whatever awful thing Jane might do to her next. ‘Who are you?’

‘Jane Newnham. Lord Kendall and I will be married in ten days’ time,’ Jane said.

The other woman flinched, then took a gulp of the cooling tea. ‘I want to speak to Ivo.’

‘I am sure you do. Mrs French, perhaps you would be good enough to ask Lord Kendall if he will join us. Then I do not think we need keep you any longer—I know how busy you are preparing for the wedding. Could you take Lady Meredith’s maid with you? I am sure she will want to prepare her mistress’s bedchamber.’

The silence as the two women went out crackled with tension, but Jane made no effort to break it. Instinct told her that she was in the presence of an enemy and that speech would betray her weakness: that she loved Ivo and was frightened by what power this woman possessed over him.

When Ivo came in he was expressionless. Jane could see that he had changed his coat and linen.

‘Ivo,’ Daphne said on a breathy whisper as he sat down. She glanced at Jane, clearly hoping she would leave. Jane settled back in her chair.

‘What exactly has happened, Daphne?’ Ivo asked. ‘We cannot help you if we do not know the facts.’

Her lips tightened at the we, but she dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and said, ‘Clement is dead. I killed him.’

‘When? How?’

‘Where?’ Jane added.

‘At home, of course. Three days ago. He fell down the stairs. We had this terrible argument and I... I might have pushed him.’

‘Were you defending yourself?’ Jane asked. Ivo jerked upright in his chair, but she pressed on. ‘Were you?’ She mi

ght dislike Daphne, fear her, but if her husband had been threatening her then she had a right to fight back.

‘Ever since he discovered there was no money because Ivo had been advising my aunts and they blocked my access to it he has been so angry. Horribly angry.’ She looked at Ivo, her eyes swimming with tears. ‘How could you do that? You love me. Don’t you want me to be happy?’

Ivo was sitting very still now. Jane tried to read his expression, but the set lines gave nothing away. ‘I ensured that your aunts had the best legal advice. I was concerned about you and it seems I was correct in my assessment of Meredith. He could not have got the funds for another two years, Daphne. The bank would not have released them without your guardian’s permission. But that is beside the point—tell me what happened.’

‘He was drunk,’ Daphne said. ‘He has been every evening since he realised about the money. And we were at the top of the stairs and he took my arm and was shaking me and I pulled away and then I pushed him and he...he fell down the stairs. I knew he was dead, his neck was at this awful angle and his eyes were open and there was blood.’

‘It was an accident,’ Ivo said and Jane thought his shoulders relaxed a little. ‘He was drunk, off balance and he fell. What did the magistrate and the coroner say?’

‘They said they could smell the brandy on him and the servants told them he had been drinking too much.’ Her gaze shifted away from his and her fingers began pleating the fabric of her skirt. ‘But then I heard the two footmen whispering about how I might have meant to push him and how I would have to put up their wages so they wouldn’t tell anyone. So I went down to the stables and told John to harness the team and I came away. I came to you.’

‘Who else was there when he fell?’ Jane asked when Ivo thrust both hands into his hair.

‘Just the servants. They called the constable and Sir William Horton—he is the magistrate.’

‘And they will have told him that it was an accident, or he would be asking more questions and the footmen can hardly accuse you later or it will be clear they are simply blackmailing you,’ Jane said firmly. ‘Running away was foolish, but I suppose the magistrate might believe that you did so because you were frightened and you had never seen a dead body before. Don’t you think?’

Daphne seemed to shrink into herself. ‘When he fell... I laughed. What if they say that at the inquest?’

‘Hysteria,’ Ivo said firmly.

‘What did you say to your husband?’ Jane asked. ‘What might the servants have heard?’

Please do not let her be guilty or Ivo will blame himself. Let her just be a foolish, headstrong girl who is in no danger of hanging. In no need of rescue.