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Satisfied, Araminta stepped from the carriage. Sir Aubrey had been short with her when she’d hinted at being in a position to please him soon, so it would serve him right if she bestowed her favors upon Lord Debenham instead. And while Jane was not the only one to have relayed some disturbing stories about His Lordship, passed on to her by Jem, he was a viscount, with an earldom in sight. Why, if she played her cards right and luck was on her side, she might one day become a duchess.
Still, Sir Aubrey was a great deal more personable. He was handsome and there was something roguishly appealing about his manner, but he was not as rich as Lord Debenham, which was sad. Nor, lately, had he been as responsive.
Really, she’d just have to wait and see how far the two gentlemen were prepared to reward her when all was said and done.
* * * * *
Hetty, alert to any sound that suggested Araminta’s return, burst into their bedchamber shortly after she heard her sister’s stealthy tread along the corridor.
“Where have you been?” she cried. “I’ve been nearly mad with worry. What did you think you were doing, going in my stead to see Jane’s beau? Oh, don’t look at me like that! I know very well what you’ve done and now you’re coming downstairs with me to explain to Sir Aubrey.”
Filled with relief and righteous anger, Hetty succeeded in dragging her sister into the drawing room which was, thankfully, empty of her parents, her mother still preparing herself for dinner and her father not having been seen since his morning walk.
Sir Aubrey rose when she entered and Hetty’s heart clutched at the cool look on his face. Then Araminta swept into the room with the confidence of a queen and Hetty felt painful jealousy seep into her v
eins as her sister murmured, “Good afternoon, Sir Aubrey, what a surprise to see you here at such an unfashionable hour. I hope you won’t object if I excuse myself shortly to dress.” She sent him a regal smile. “I was late back from a walk with my Cousin Stephen and I fear my papa, who is a stickler for the proprieties, will be peevish if I do not present myself at the dinner table on time.”
“You’ve been to see Jem and you’ve been gone more than two hours!” Hetty cried.
Araminta sent her a maddeningly self-contained look of inquiry. “Jem?”
“You were on a clandestine mission.” With difficulty Hetty reined in her ire. “I know everything and I know you saw what was written in that letter. Do you realize how dangerous this path is you’ve taken?”
Araminta examined her finely shaped fingernails. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hetty. Who is Jem and what letter is this you speak of?”
Sir Aubrey took a step forward and, to Hetty’s outrage and despair, took Araminta’s hand, turning her to look at him. “I believe damaging allegations were made in that letter, Miss Partington.” His tone was far too intimate for Hetty’s liking. “Allegations regarding Lord Debenham’s allegiance to his country, not to mention the writer’s own feelings toward her husband. Perhaps you’d do me the great service of divulging what the letter contained.”
Araminta smiled into his eyes. “Have no fear, Sir Aubrey, you were well spoken of by the writer, who felt only remorse. So sad,” she added on a sigh, closing the gap an inch with no regard for Hetty. Or perhaps with only too much, for her sister enjoyed goading her and she was aware of Hetty’s feelings for Sir Aubrey.
“We really need to have possession of this letter, Miss Partington.”
“Jem has it.”
Angrily, Hetty said, “You’ve put Jem in danger, don’t you know? Jane came to me not five minutes ago in great agitation, saying she’d had word from one of Lord Debenham’s servants that Jem has gone missing.”
Araminta raised her eyebrows. “If we all got into a fluster when we were five minutes late, I don’t know where we’d be.”
Hetty stamped her foot. “You don’t understand, Araminta. Lord Debenham didn’t know for sure the letter existed until you told him. Now he’ll go after Jem for it, for certain.”
Araminta smiled. “Why should that be? I’m sure you’re all much too concerned over Jem and, really, the letter wasn’t too bad though I can see why Lord Debenham wouldn’t want the world to see it.”
Boldly, Sir Aubrey put his arm about Araminta’s shoulders and walked her to the window embrasure. Hetty could hear his voice, low and intimate as they stood talking. Dull misery churned in the pit of her stomach as she stared, listening, into the fireplace.
“May I exhort you, Miss Partington, to try to recall the contents? You need to understand that what might not seem important to you could perhaps be very important.” Sir Aubrey was speaking to Araminta as if she were a child and she, clearly, was enjoying the attention.
Hetty, slanting her gaze across at the pair, noticed that her sister’s eyes sparkled as if this were the greatest of games. Or perhaps that was only for Hetty’s benefit.
“Did the letter mention the name Spencean in relation to Lord Debenham?” asked Sir Aubrey.
A sly smile creased Araminta’s brow. “Oh yes. I believe that’s the club he belongs to.” Her tone softened. “I know you want the letter made public so that it proves your wife regretted…certain decisions she made, but I’m sure the world won’t judge you on that, Sir Aubrey.”
“Araminta, don’t you realize what you’re saying?” Hetty cried, dashing forward to grip her sister’s wrists, more to pull her away from Sir Aubrey than anything else. “If the letter calls Lord Debenham a Spencean and cites evidence, then of course Lord Debenham will do anything in his power to silence any who have seen or would speak of this letter. To be called a Spencean is to be called a traitor.”
Araminta looked doubtful. “A traitor?”
“Traitors swing, Araminta!” Hetty heard the shrillness in her tone. “From the gallows.”
She was glad this seemed to discompose Araminta.
