Ryder’s final words, “Mr. Mordaunt is not at all happy with you,” were lost beneath Aurelia’s gasped, “Attempts to…” Her face a mask of horror, she leapt to her feet. “Hadley! What have you done?”
One glance at her face was enough to assure everyone that the only thing Aurelia had known or even suspected was the potential for her younger brother to behave atrociously.
“You don’t understand!” Hadley sprang to his feet. Facing his sister across the Aubusson rug, he insisted, “I had to! I had no choice.” Abruptly, Hadley rounded on Frederick. “You bastard! I’ll never be free of Mordaunt now—I’ll have to flee the country!”
“Indeed.” Utterly calm, Frederick reached into his coat pocket, withdrew a folded sheet, and held it out to Hadley.
Hadley stared at the paper. “What’s that?”
“It’s a ticket for passage on the early-morning ferry from Dover to Calais. I suggest you take it.”
When Hadley continued to stare at the ticket, Ryder said, “I second that recommendation. And just so you’re aware, men—very able men—will be watching you from the moment you leave this house.”
Frederick didn’t lower the ticket. “In light of the accidents you engineered, if we ask around, I’m sure we’ll find people willing to bear witness against you. I’m sure you know the punishment for attempting to murder members of the nobility. However, if you leave the country immediately, we won’t have any reason to dig for evidence with which to convict you.”
After much debate, they’d decided that the only way to protect those innocent of any wrongdoing—namely, the other Barkshaws—from the inevitable repercussions of Hadley’s crimes was to allow him to flee the country. After considering what sort of life a man like Hadley would face, alone, without resources, in a foreign land, Frederick had agreed. He wasn’t happy about letting Hadley go, but he accepted it was the best way.
“Accidents?” Aurelia stared at Hadley as if he’d grown two heads. She glanced briefly at Frederick’s hard face, then returned her gaze to Hadley’s. “What accidents, Hadley?” Her voice had grown harsh and demanding. “What did you do?”
“I had to, I tell you!” Hadley’s face contorted; he clutched at his hair with both hands and tugged. “I had no choice! When Frederick married, Mordaunt sent his men around to ask what that meant for the succession, and although I spun him a tale, I had to make sure nothing came of it—you must see that!”
Carlisle had risen when Aurelia had and had watched the unfolding drama in some confusion. “Succession?” he asked, looking even more confused. “What has the succession to do with you?”
When no one offered an answer, Mary, who, along with Stacie, had been watching Aurelia closely, said, “I believe your wife might be able to shed some light on that.”
Aurelia’s expression turned anguished, and she swung to face Carlisle. “I helped him out—with money. Just here and there, from my pin money and sometimes from th
e household funds—but only when he was desperate.”
She swung back to Hadley and, fists clenching, her whole body vibrating, demanded, “How could you? I risked going against my husband’s wishes purely so that there would be no scandal. You knew what it would do to Papa and Mama—you always held that over my head. You knew that was why I did it! Nothing I did was ever an invitation to use me, to use Carlisle and his connection to Frederick, to borrow funds from some cent-per-cent!”
Far from displaying any remorse, Hadley sneered. “All very well for you—living the life of a lady while I had to scrimp and scrape.”
“Enough!” Frederick stepped forward, his gaze taking in the pain and fear written across Aurelia’s face. He swung to face Hadley, slapped the ticket against Hadley’s chest, caught his eye, and harshly commanded, “Take it and go—before I change my mind.”
The threat in the latter phrase was real; Hadley looked into Frederick’s eyes, realized that, and snatched the paper.
Hadley glanced at Ryder and Carlisle, both stony faced, then looked at Aurelia, then he shoved the ticket into his pocket. “All right. I’ll go.”
Ryder stepped back to allow Hadley to stalk past. As he did, Ryder said, “Just in case you’re tempted to try it, if you’re wise, you won’t set foot in England again. Mordaunt’s memory is long, and he’s said to have a vindictive streak. Many of us here would feel obliged to inform him if you are sighted on English soil.” Ryder turned his head and met Hadley’s eyes. “It’s the least we can do given we’re depriving him of all satisfaction by allowing you to flee, thus escaping his retribution.”
Frederick watched with grim satisfaction as the last of Hadley’s misplaced confidence drained, and he turned and walked, increasingly quickly, to the door. When Hadley opened it, Frederick glimpsed Fortingale, flanked by two footmen, waiting in the hall, and left it to his staff to see Hadley from the house.
The door shut with a click, releasing the tension that had held everyone in its grip.
Aurelia slumped onto the chaise. Stricken, she looked up at Carlisle. “Can you ever forgive me?” She shifted her gaze to Frederick and Stacie. “Can you?” Then she dissolved into gasping, noisy, utterly genuine tears.
The ladies all gathered around, and the gentlemen backed away—even Carlisle, after he’d patted Aurelia’s shoulder in a clumsy, comforting way and attempted to assure her he didn’t blame her for her brother’s actions.
She only sobbed harder.
Emily and Ernestine were inclined to be soothing, but Mary, Stacie, and the dowager quickly adopted a more bracing attitude, promulgating a view that there was no need to overstate, much less overdramatize, Aurelia’s involvement, as it was hardly her fault her brother had turned out to be a bad egg.
Ryder and Carlisle joined Frederick by the fireplace, and Carlisle asked and Frederick described the attacks that Hadley’s paid thugs had engineered.
Carlisle was shocked, yet his principal concern was for Aurelia. He glanced at her, seated on the sofa, surrounded by the other ladies. “She’s always tried to help him,” he said, rather sadly. “She could never accept that he wasn’t worth it.”
Eventually, the storm of Aurelia’s sobs abated. The other ladies tried to reassure her that, as long as Hadley quit the country and stayed away, there was no reason the ton would ever hear of his behavior—no reason scandal would engulf her family. Yet still she hung her head; she seemed to want to shrink into the chaise.