Mary Blayney - [Pennistan 03] (40 page)

There was no line of carriages. Meryon had arrived beyond fashionably late, and for a moment he worried that Bendas might have left already.

Meryon was greeted by the ambassador and his wife, who were still receiving guests in the hall, then made his way, with Wilson trailing him, through knots of people discussing everything from the business of Parliament to the best way to train a dog to attack.

Besides the best of society, the company was filled with foreign dignitaries and “friends of Italy.” The Duke of Bendas, most likely invited because his long-deceased wife had been Italian, sat by himself and was easily the oldest person present.

The Gossips had found a spot near the door where they could see who came and went in the passage and at the entry, and still keep an eye on the main salon. At the moment they were talking among themselves, though they never stopped looking around for something of interest. Meryon nodded to the cluster and they all nodded and curtsied back.

He moved deeper into the overcrowded salon. Perfume, candle wax, and the smell of overheated bodies made it more of a crush than was pleasant. Finally he heard Elena’s voice and headed toward it, determined to have a word with her before the drama unfolded.

Standing at the center of a group of gentlemen, Elena was doing more listening than speaking. She was wearing a maroon gown and an exquisite diamond necklace that called attention to her discreet décolletage. He watched for a long minute until she looked up and saw him, then he walked straight to her. The crowd stood back and he bowed.

“Good evening, signora.”

She curtsied, eyed Wilson with a moment’s curiosity, but did not answer Meryon’s greeting.

“Take my arm for a moment.”

Her eyes spoke for her, their chill freezing him to the bone.

“Please,” he added hastily.

“No, thank you, Your Grace.”

That was all she said, without an excuse, without a regretful smile. Then she doubled the offense by resuming her conversation, in German, with some gentleman Meryon did not recognize.

Meryon recognized a sickening mix of anger and embarrassment that he had not felt since his days at Oxford. Now The Gossips had something to talk about. With a curt nod, which Elena ignored, he moved away on stiff legs. He would have to move forward with his plan without warning her.

If she and Bendas had reconciled, what he intended
would hurt her as much as it hurt Bendas. Meryon did not care. He could not care.

When he saw Lord William come into the room, Meryon gave himself no more time to think about the consequences. He nodded at Wilson and they took their places halfway across the room but in direct line of sight of the Duke of Bendas. And Rogers.

Meryon and Wilson stood by themselves, a sea of people moving around them. Wilson did as directed and stared at Rogers, who felt the scrutiny in less than a minute. Bendas’s secretary glanced around the room until he saw Wilson. They stared at each other and then Rogers pretended to ignore him.

A minute later The Gossips had noticed Rogers’s discomfort and Wilson’s intense stare and had begun to watch and, more unsettling, to speculate.

Meryon could see Rogers growing restless, unable to decide what to do. Short of panic, but confused. Finally he bent down to speak to Bendas, who looked over with sneering disdain at Wilson and Meryon.

Perfect
. But Meryon had claimed victory a minute too soon. In that minute, Elena approached the Duke of Bendas.

No, he thought. Elena was most emphatically not part of the plan. Meryon watched as if it were happening in a dream.

Elena curtsied graciously and waited.

Bendas stood slowly, giving her a perfunctory bow, but smiled as he did.

Bendas glanced at Meryon with cold calculation replacing the smile.

Then the old duke nodded at Elena, giving her permission to speak.

Walk away. Oh, Elena, dear heart, walk away
. Meryon wanted to shout, but knew that it would no more than delay the inevitable. Bendas was going to attack him through Elena. Bendas might not know precisely what Meryon had planned to ruin him, but that would not keep the old duke from taking his revenge beforehand.

Meryon did not hear what Elena said; her back was to the room as she spoke, unaware that most everyone was watching them.

Bendas must not have heard her either, because she took a step closer and spoke again.

Bendas said nothing at first.

Terror was not too strong a word to describe what Meryon felt. Acting on a moment’s thought, not quite impulse, he moved closer to her to lend his support. Elena had made it clear she did not want him involved. Torn between what he knew was going to happen and what Elena wanted, he stopped six feet from her and the duke, praying that his trap had not compromised her attempt at conversation, if not reconciliation, with her father.

Bendas faced the room and spoke out loud as if he wanted to entertain, not just The Gossips, but everyone in the room.

“You want me to sell you the Verano violin?”

Meryon was close enough to see that Bendas’s smile was wicked and unfriendly. Elena herself took a step back.

“I will give the violin to you, Ellen, if you admit that you were a disrespectful girl and have grown into a vain and stupid whore.”

The crowd gasped, almost as one. Elena did not say a word, or not one that Meryon could hear, but she did begin to turn away from Bendas, swaying slightly.

Meryon hurried to her side, just as the old man lifted his cane and blocked her way. She reached down to move it aside and he swatted her knuckles with it.

Now Meryon did act on impulse. Whether she wanted his help or not, whether he was the reason for Bendas’s insult or not. Meryon took her injured hand, kissed the red mark, and kicked the cane out of Bendas’s hand.

“You are the vain and stupid one, Bendas.” Meryon held on to Elena’s ice-cold fingers. They were all the inspiration he needed. “You are a disgrace to your name. Everyone here is now a witness to your insanity. You no longer even know right from wrong.”

Bendas narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth but Meryon wasn’t finished.

“Tell us: What was your excuse when your daughter was fourteen and you disowned her?”

“She is
not
my daughter,” Bendas declared

“Oh, yes, she is. Your son and heir as well as his son, Lord William, will attest to it. Lord William has been her staunch supporter for all these years.” He could feel Elena begin to shake and he tucked her hand over his arm, pulling her close. “Lord William has a letter from his father swearing that you threw your daughter out of your house because she chose to sing a song that displeased you.”

Meryon turned his back on Bendas, who had collapsed
into his chair. Facing Elena fully, Meryon bowed to her. “I know better than to ask if you are all right. May I escort you home, my lady?”

Meryon had no idea what would come next, but was almost sure she would not refuse him. Elena did not answer or could not, but did not let go of his arm. They had taken two steps away when Bendas yelled, “Wait!”

Meryon would have ignored him if the old duke had not pulled the violin case onto his lap.

“I bought this from DeBora.” Bendas’s half-blind eyes radiated spite. “I was going to keep it to remind me of my child’s perfidy, but I think I will give it to you so you will have a constant reminder of how much I hate you.”

Elena murmured, “Why?” to no one in particular but Meryon whispered back, “Because he knows you are not afraid of him, will never bow to him. Using his title to cow people is the only sick pleasure he has left in life.”

Bendas could not hear what he said. But Bendas had apparently reached his limit anyway. The old man pushed the violin case at them, and when neither one of them would take it, Bendas opened the latch and emptied the case.

The Verano violin, broken into pieces, clattered to the floor.

Elena screamed.

The crowd surged forward, and for a moment Meryon thought Elena had fainted. But no, she was kneeling, laying fingers that trembled on the ruined instrument.

Bendas laughed.

As Elena began to gather the pieces and put them in
the case, she spoke loud enough for Bendas to hear. As the room was dead silent that meant it was loud enough for everyone in attendance to hear as well.

“I am
ashamed
to be your daughter. I renounce you once and for all and will never, ever acknowledge you again.”

Bendas grunted a dismissal.

Meryon bent to help Elena, his temper on the breaking point. His own hands were shaking with rage and he could not handle the pieces as carefully as Elena, so he held the case as she continued to fill it. It took all the control he had to ignore Bendas. Elena was far more important. He would attend to Bendas later.

Whether or not Meryon had ruined Elena’s chance at reconciliation with her father, Garrett was right. His fight for justice was too much like revenge. It had cost too much.

He heard Bendas spit and felt the spittle land on his shoulder. It was such a vulgar insult that Meryon was sure the people watching would realize that the man was insane.

Meryon stiffened and cast Bendas a withering glance. He latched the case, gave Elena his hand, and helped her to stand again.

Then he took out his handkerchief to wipe the spittle from his shoulder.

“So it comes to a duel,” Meryon said, as though it were hardly worth noting. He turned to Elena. “My lady, I love and respect everything about you and will do as you wish in this.”

She was shocked. He could tell she could barely take
in what was happening.
Courage
, he said with his eyes.
You have only one more decision to make
.

“My lady, I ask you as your servant, do you want me to kill this man in a duel?”

“No, no,” she said, finding her voice. Her white face was now flushed. She raised a hand to her heart.

“And so it will be, my lady.” Meryon turned back to Bendas, who looked disgusted by Meryon’s consideration. “He is no longer a gentleman and not worthy of a challenge.”

Meryon offered Elena his arm and escorted her from the salon, the crowd making room for them, most of them edging away from the corner where Rogers was Bendas’s only support.

As they left, Meryon saw William and the trustees talking together with Wilson nearby, ready to tell his story. Bendas was at the end of his road to ruin, at the gate of Hell.

E
LENA SAT CURLED UP
against Meryon in his carriage, her brain unable to take in the enormity of what had happened.

Her father’s behavior had shocked her. Meryon’s behavior had too. Elena really was not sure which of the two surprised her more.

She did know that next to Meryon was exactly where she wanted to be.

He hugged her to his side. “We will be in Bloomsbury soon,” he whispered against her hair.

She could not face Tinotti and Tina. Mia would cry even more than she already had at not being able to attend.

“I will never be your mistress, Meryon. There is no room for discussion on that.”

She could feel him straighten a little and draw in a
breath to answer her. Elena went on in a rush. “If you accept that, then I would like to go to the little house on St. German Street.” She sat up and hoped she did not look as bad as she felt.

“I cannot take you to St. German Street.”

“All right.” Elena looked out the window, too drained to cry, though her heart ached at the rejection.

“Elena, darling, you misunderstand. You are better off without me. Please listen. I am the reason Bendas treated you so badly. If I had not pursued him for my version of justice, he would have, at the very least, left you alone and, at the most, welcomed you as his daughter again. I saw Rogers whisper to him that there was going to be trouble. Bendas saw what I had put in play and he thought to escape it through you. When that did not work, he tried to hurt you as a revenge on me.”

“You take too much responsibility, Lyn.” She was not going to argue with him about this.

“That could be.”

Was that agreement she heard from him? She
must
look awful.

“Elena, no one knows when the man’s mind first began to fail. It could have started when you were fourteen. We would have to be as mad as he is to understand why he has acted this way.”

“Then we cannot let him win. Please, Meryon, take me to the little house.”

“Of course I will.” His voice registered his surprise. “If you are sure. It is not the seat of our happiest memories.”

“It was the place of our greatest intimacy and our first
truly awful misunderstanding. That makes it as much a home as any other place where we have kissed and argued.”

“Then you will have to find a Canaletto when I redo the small salon.” He raised a finger and pressed it against her lips even though she had made no move to speak. “In this case I am not going to ask what you wish, but hope that I can read your mind. I will happily take you to the little house, but you must rest. I can see you are still very shaken.”

“Yes.” She could agree to that. “If you will rest with me.” Meryon smiled and kissed her forehead, which was almost annoying. She was not an invalid.