Page 27 of Cupid Comes to Little Valentine

“Yes, Cuz, it’s me. Lord, but you look sick as a horse,” he observed, sounding far too cheerful about it.

“Yes, Edwin. You have won, at last,” Beau said, with a sad smile. Slowly, as though the effort cost him dearly, he moved his hand towards his cousin, palm up. “I’m ready to go. I have made peace with my demons and bear you no ill will, but I must know the truth before I leave this world.”

“The truth?” Edwin said, an edge to his voice as he glanced over his shoulder. Happily, Kirby had made himself scarce, so it appeared they were alone. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Beau let out a breath of laughter, which he turned into a coughing fit he was rather proud of. “Come now, Edwin. You’ve been trying to do away with me for years now. Did you think I did not know it was you who cut the girth on my saddle, or perhaps you did not realise I understood your intention the time you encouraged me to swim the length of the lake at Cavendish House with you and then discovered you had turned back without telling me? I was over halfway before I realised. That was the first time, I think,” he mused. “I was eight years old.”

“Nonsense, just childish high jinks is all,” Edwin blustered.

“Tell me the truth,” Beau said, a thread of anger in his voice now. “You cannot deny the last request of a dying man. If you do not, I might discover I have just enough energy left to will all my unentailed goods to the nearest orphanage.”

“Oh, I say!” Edwin said, indignation stiffening his spine. “That would be a shockingly ungentlemanly thing to do.”

Beau laughed, unable to resist. “Yes, whilst murder is quite acceptable.”

“It ain’t murder,” Edwin said testily. “The title ought to have been mine. I’m older than you. Just because my father wasn’t the eldest, you got it. I deserved it more than you did. I would have made use of Cavendish House, for one thing. You never set foot in it!”

“So you did try, then?” Beau pressed, needing him to spell it out.

“Damned right I did,” Edwin said in frustration. “But I swear you’ve got some guardian angel, for you always came out of every attempt without a scratch so there’s no need to make out like I harmed you! You didn’t so much as break a bone when you fell from your horse, and you swam to shore eventually, did you not? Though how you managed that, I still do not know, for you were all skin and bone in those days.”

He sounded so ill-used, Beau struggled to hide his feelings. Still, he held himself in check, and simply gazed up at his cousin with soulful eyes. “Until now, Cuz. Finally, you have succeeded. Tell me how you did it. I should like to know how you finally bested me after all these years. Surely you can grant me that much. It’s all yours now, after all. I cannot harm you.”

Beau watched his cousin’s face, watched the almost childish look of triumphant glee flicker behind his eyes and knew he had him. Edwin wanted to boast about how he had got the upper hand, for he had always been vain, and that would be his undoing.

“Well, all right, then. I suppose I owe you that much as you’re giving everything over to me,” he said, still managing to sound begrudging, even though he was clearly eager to display his cleverness. “It was simple, really. Once I settled on arsenic as the best method, I just had to figure out how best to dose you. I waited weeks, you know. Drove me half mad with impatience, but finally that patience was rewarded. Mrs Jenkins’ ball was just the occasion I needed. The place is always a terrible crush, and you were with Stonehaven. He always leads you into trouble, so I knew you’d be half seas over well before the night was done. Then it was simple enough. I tipped the powder into a wineglass and switched your glass for the poisoned one. You never even knew I was there. I stayed in the background, watching, just to be sure you drank it and didn’t spill the glass or something stupid, just in case I needed to give you more. I didn’t want to give you so much you made a nasty scene and died on the spot, you see, better it happened when you got home, in private. I owed the family name that much, so the dosage was crucial. But you drained the glass like a good boy, and so I went to my club and played cards and made sure everyone knew I was there so I couldn’t be viewed with suspicion. I’ll admit it’s taken far longer than I anticipated, but it worked in the end.”

He looked so damned smug, so very pleased with himself. Rage bubbled up inside Beau at the notion that this entitled nothing of a man had almost ended him. Edwin had done nothing of note with his life, he never had a kind word for anyone, did no one a favour unless there was something in it for himself, he was ignorant and a bully and, on top of that, he had absolutely no fashion sense, and this man…this waste of space, had nearly killed him. Him!

“Why, you abhorrent little worm,” Beau growled, and launched himself from the bed.

Clementine listened with growing horror as the two men spoke. The silence on the balcony was palpable as all three of them strained to hear the conversation. The words struck her like a blow, however, as she heard just what Beau had endured. His cousin, a fellow he had probably idolised as a child, had tried to end his life for no better reason than jealousy and avarice. She felt sick.

Eight years old. He had been just eight years old when Edwin Cavendish had encouraged him to swim out of his depth, too far from land. She could only imagine the terror Beau must have felt, and the sheer determination he must have had to keep going, to keep swimming, until he made it to the other side. To have to do so knowing that someone he had liked and admired, perhaps even loved, had tricked him… how that must have hurt. Her heart ached, and she realised this explained a good deal about Lord Beaumarsh, about his reluctance to take anything seriously or to show any genuine feeling, his desire to indulge in pleasure and turn his attention away from anything of true value.

“—you never even knew I was there,” the wretched man crowed, making Clementine’s blood boil. “I stayed in the background, watching, just to be sure you drank it and didn’t spill the glass or something stupid, just in case I needed to give you more. I didn’t want to give you so much you made a nasty scene and died on the spot, you see, better it happened when you got home, in private. I owed the family name that much, so the dosage was crucial. But you drained the glass like a good boy, and so I went to my club and played cards and made sure everyone knew I was there so I couldn’t be viewed with suspicion. I’ll admit it’s taken far longer than I anticipated, but it worked in the end.”

There was a taut silence, and Clementine looked to her father and Mr Chivers, hoping they had enough to convict the horrid man, because she wanted to throttle Edwin Cavendish with her bare hands. Both men nodded, but before they could make their presence known, they heard Beaumarsh’s growl of fury.

“Why, you abhorrent little worm!”

There was a high-pitched scream and a heavy thud, and Clementine pushed through the curtain at the same time as her father and Mr Chivers, which meant none of them could pass and all three got tangled in the blasted fabric. By the time they were through, they found Beaumarsh standing over his cousin, who was sprawled on the floor and holding his nose as blood dripped through his fingers. He stared up at his lordship as if he’d risen from the dead. Clementine supposed he had, for all Edwin knew.

“Tell me you have heard enough,” Lord Beaumont growled, staring down at his cousin, who was a thin man dressed in the most garish waistcoat of gold and purple stripes, which he had matched with yellow pantaloons and a green coat. No wonder Beaumarsh loathed him, Clementine thought irreverently.

“Enough to send the man to the gallows if you wish it, my lord,” Mr Chivers said confidently.

Clementine glanced at Chivers, uncertain that were true as Mr Cavendish had failed in actually killing Beaumarsh, but the man was an earl, so perhaps multiple attempts were enough.

“What? What is happening?” Edwin said, the words coming out muffled as he pressed a handkerchief against his nose to staunch the bleeding. “You were supposed to be dying! You told me you were,” he protested, as if Beaumarsh was not playing fair.

His lordship snorted. “No. I was supposed to be dead, but you failed again, you fool. This time, however, I’ve decided there will be no more attempts on my life. This is Reverend Honeywell, and Mr Chivers here is a justice of the peace. They’ve heard every word you just said and will attest to the fact that you have repeatedly tried to kill me. You’ve had your fun, Edwin, and now I’ll have mine. Watching you swing will be great fun, won’t it?” he asked snidely, his features set, a callous expression hardening his handsome face in a way she had never seen before.

Edwin gasped, all the colour leaving his face in a rush and for a moment, Clementine believed Beaumarsh would do it. She supposed she could not blame him. A man who ought to have been a brother to him had tried and tried to end his life. An eye for an eye. Yet the relief she felt when that savage light dimmed, replaced by one of sheer disgust, was more than she could account for.

“For God’s sake,” Beaumarsh said. “You really are the most unutterable fool, Edwin.”

“You w-wouldn’t see me hang, would you, Cuz?” the man pleaded, finally realising that he had been caught in a trap.