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“I do not think Sir Aubrey cared for Lord Debenham, who was too familiar with Lady Margaret,” she said.
Predictably, Araminta swung around. “How would you know such a thing?” she demanded but Lady Partington put up her hand for silence before signaling Jane to go on.
“Jem says that on the final day of Lord Debenham’s visit, His Lordship and Master James repaired to the library whereupon a great argument broke out,” Jane continued. “In a fury, Mr. James went to seize his sword only Lord Debenham pulled out his own and wounded the young man mortal bad.”
Hetty saw her mother’s eyes widen as Araminta said in bored tones, “I fail to see what this has to do with Sir Aubrey.”
Jane glared. “Well, Miss Margaret were naturally distraught at her brother’s being so badly injured. Then Sir Aubrey arrived in a fury, claiming his wife were carrying on with Lord Debenham. Instead of going to Master James’ aid, he turned on His Lordship and the two men began fighting and then Miss Margaret tried to stop them. Well, neither were hurt but when they went in search of Miss Margaret…”
Jane held up her hands in a gesture of defeat, prompting three voices to cry out in unison, “Well, what happened?”
“You know the story already.” Jane nodded at them. “They found Miss Margaret in her dressing room. Quite dead, she were, from the nightshade she’d taken and holding a note saying Sir Aubrey had driven her to it through being a husband of such wicked and unkind ways. And other things about being involved in that plot to knock off Lord Castlereagh besides.” She shrugged. “Leastaways that’s what Jem says.”
“I doubt very much Jem can read,” Araminta interrupted sharply. “So where is this letter, anyway, since it’s the only means of verifying anything?”
Jane’s eyes skittered indignantly to her interrogator. “Jem were with Lord Debenham after. His master were swearing somethin’ terrible, pacing up and down the room and waving the letter in the air.”
The chills that started at the tips of Hetty’s toes rippled up through her body, forced out in a gasp as she implored Jane to go on.
So the letter was last in Lord Debenham’s keeping.
“Jem asked what were in the letter but the master paid him no mind at first. He were muttering that it brooked ill for himself if it were discovered.”
Hetty had to press her lips together to prevent herself from saying she had little wonder Lord Debenham didn’t want the letter found.
Jane continued her story. “‘Is Lordship told Jem the letter were all ‘bout how Miss Margaret were so ill-used by her husband and were a testimonial to Sir Aubrey’s evilness. Them were his very words.” With a worried frown she placed the curling tongs she’d been playing with onto the dressing table and said with a squaring of her shoulders, “Anyway, the master took to the drink after that and Jem found him asleep with his head on the table and the letter just lying there.”
Hetty knew she was weighing up whether to add more by the way she gnawed her lip. “So that’s when Jem took the letter?” she surmised. “As his insurance?”
Jane sent her a frightened look. “What Jem did were a terrible thing and he’s oft regretted it.” There was a pleading note to her voice. “But Lord Debenham is a harsh master. He don’t know if Jem has the letter or not but at least it keeps him from thrashing him or threatening him like before.”
Lady Partington rose slowly. “So Sir Aubrey’s reputation rests on what was…apparently…written in that letter.”
Hetty could have hugged her. “Of course it does, which is why the letter must be made public.” She turned to her mother. “Jane must urge Jem to hand over the letter, mustn’t she, Mama?”
The response she received this time was disappointing. “Hetty dearest, these are the weighty matters that must be dealt with by those who are directly affected. Certainly I shall speak to Stephen about it. But as Sir Aubrey and Lord Debenham are gentlemen who hold no interest for you, I’d ask you to desist from taking this on as a mission of mercy.” She patted Hetty’s hand, saying more gently, “I know you love to see justice done and I’m so proud of the way you want to help those unable to fight their own battles, but Lord Debenham and Sir Aubrey are grown men and we’re talking about serious matters right now.”
Hetty stared at the floor to hide her trembling lip. How could she ever explain to her mother what a vested interest she had?
Reality diminished the size of her role as potential savior. To Sir Aubrey, Hetty was nothing more than a woman of the night. Her heart cleaved and she was glad of the masquerade mask she raised to hide her devastation. If Sir Aubrey was after a wife, as Araminta suggested, it would be entirely plausible that he’d consider her beautiful older sister.
Jane’s defense of “her Jem” filtered through the roaring in Hetty’s ears. “‘Sides, wouldn’t you do all you could to protect yourself if you was in danger of losing not just your employment but your character?” the young maid demanded.
Hetty shuddered. She’d well and truly lost her character. But to a man who ill-used his wife? She couldn’t countenance it. Indeed, she could barely countenance what she had reduced herself to, though to be honest, she didn’t feel the guilt she ought to feel at having debased herself. Every time she thought about Sir Aubrey a frisson of desire surged through her. It left her breathless, shaking, exhilarated and…hopeful.
Yes, a small flame of hope still burned within her. Araminta was beautiful and beguiling. She’d entrap Sir Aubrey but Sir Aubrey was not a man who liked to be entrapped. He’d told Hetty so himself as he’d caressed her with murmurs of how refreshing it was to pleasure and indulge himself in such a sweet piece of innocence. He’d hinted that if he still thought the same in another month, he was going to set her up as his mistress.
She slanted a guilty look at her mother.
Araminta as his wife and Hetty as his mistress? No, that would never do.
But maybe, she thought, emboldened by Stephen’s words of earlier, Sir Aubrey was not only a worthy suitor; maybe he’d consider a plain and accommodating debutante a more desirable lifelong partner than one full of spirit and fire such as Araminta.
Lady Partington rose and made for the door. “Girls, you both look beautiful, and I only wish I could be there to witness your success.” She turned, her hand on the knob, and her smile gained warmth as she gazed upon her youngest. “Hetty, you look especially charming. You will break hearts tonight, I’d depend upon it.”
* * * * *
At Lady Kilmore’s ba
