Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance) (56 page)

He is the only officer to be awarded an honor of the magnitude after this most difficult battle.

''What do you think of that, then?'' Alice's father asked her, when she'd finished reading.

Sophia was too emotional to answer. ''Is Alice at home?'' she asked after a short time. I must speak to her.

''I believe she is. Alice,'' he shouted at the top of his voice.

''Father why do you have to shout so.....oh hello Sophia. What a hero David is. I am so pleased he has returned to you safely.''

''So am I. Alice can I please talk to you? I need your help most urgently.''

The two ladies walked into the garden and sat under an apple tree.

''Alice, I have been most senseless and shortsighted. May the Lord strike me down for the injustices I have done to David. When he returned to me he was magnificent in bed and totally exhausted me.''

''Then why was he so pathetic on your wedding night?''

''He was afraid. He knew he would go to war and the poor man was frightened. It is totally understandable, if you give it some thought.''

Alice looked at Sophia and nodded. ''Indeed it is. Oh, I have just realized your problem. You and the Duke.''

''Yes, precisely. I now have the most enormous problem. I do not want to be unfaithful to David. He is the most wonderful man. Sensitive and brave. But I know you told me how difficult the Duke can be. What am I to do?''

''Go to him and tell him. All you can do is throw yourself at his mercy. Your husband is a national hero, he may understand and let you go.''

''Very well, I agree. I have no choice but to ask for him to be sympathetic to my situation.''

*****

12 Greys Inn didn't look so inviting as it had when Sophia stood outside the door. She knocked and waited. After what seemed like an age, the Duke answered. His shirt was open and his hair disheveled. He had lip rouge on his neck.

''Sophia, it isn't' our day. Go away, I'm busy.''

''Please, my Lord. I need just the briefest moment of your time.''

''Then prey speak woman. I haven't got all day.''

''I am afraid I cannot see you any longer. My husband has returned home and it is my intention to remain faithful to him from now on. I am sorry. I ask you to accept my decision.''

''Madam, you are a disgrace. First you come to me because your husband can't get it up. You beg me to relieve you of your sexual burden, and now you are rejecting me for the very man that drove you to me.” The Duke grabbed Sophia’s arm. “Unfortunately for you, I will not be used in that way. You will uphold the arrangement we have. You will visit me, every three days or I will expose you and your husband. I don't think he would find it very amusing if society suddenly finds out he has problems satisfying his wife.''

''Is that your final word, my Lord? Can I not throw myself on your mercy? I have been foolish and feel punished enough. Please my Lord, don't make my suffering any greater.''

''You should have thought about that before you betrayed your husband. What kind of a woman are you?''

''The very worst kind, it seems.''

''Yes. And if you are not in my bed on Wednesday as we agreed, you will regret it for the rest of your life.''

*****

Sophia stood in front of the most imposing building she had ever seen. As she looked up she saw the words, 'War Office.' She held her breath for a second and pulled the giant oak door open. When she was inside, she saw the most beautiful staircase. It was a split staircase that joined on a platform halfway up. The hallway she was in echoed with footsteps, as civil servants walked to and fro about their business.

She walked up to a desk behind which a bald man was sitting. He looked over his spectacles and said, ''Yes, madam. How may I help?''

''Good afternoon. I was wondering, if it might be possible to have a word with the Duke of Wellington?''

The man looked her up and down and began to laugh. ''The Duke of Wellington?
THE
Duke of Wellington,'' he mocked. ''The Commander in Chief of all British Forces. The man who has just won our country its freedom at Waterloo. Do you mean that Duke of Wellington or is there someone else here with that name?''

''You mock me, sir. Perhaps I am deserving of it. However, I would kindly ask you if it is possible to make an appointment with the Duke?''

''Madam have you just lost your husband at the Battle? Because if you have, there is a building just down the road to which you can go for support.''

''No, I haven't just lost my husband, thank God. I need to see the Duke.''

''Really. There is no more I can do for you. The Duke of Wellington is a national hero, he doesn't have time to see people who just drop in off the street.''

''My husband is Captain David Marshall.''

The man stood up suddenly and bowed. ''Please forgive my impertinence. We do however from time to time get some ridiculous requests. Now let me see. I have no idea whether the Duke is in the building or not. If you would kindly wait here, I will see.''

''Thank you,'' Sophia said gratefully.

When the clerk returned, he just nodded and gestured. Sophia followed him up the spectacular staircase and down a wide corridor. They stopped outside a double door and the man knocked. He opened the door and gestured for her to go inside. It was a side office. A young man in uniform was sitting behind a desk. When he saw her, he stood up and bowed to her. ''Mrs. Marshall. It is an honor to meet you. Your husband is one of the bravest men to have served in the British Army. You must be very proud of him.''

''I am very proud of him.''

''The Duke has asked me to keep you here for a few moments while he finishes his meeting. Would you be kind enough to take a seat?''

Sophia sat down and watched the young officer continue writing. He was very young indeed. The sound of horses’ hooves rose from the street below as she looked out of the giant sash window up to the sky.

When the double door to the main office opened, the young man sprang to attention. The man who left the office looked terribly important and vaguely familiar to her. When she realized it was the Earl of Liverpool, the Prime Minster, she felt out of her depth and suddenly very nervous.

The young man came from behind his desk. ''Madam, please follow me.''

''My Lord, this is Mrs. Marshall.''

Sophia curtsied as the Duke of Wellington got up from his chair, came round the table and took her hand.

''Madam. It is a pleasure to meet you,” the Duke said. “Your husband is a brave man. One of only a few it has been my pleasure to command. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?''

Sophia studied the Duke of Wellington. He was tall and had dark hair, brushed forward. He was well over six feet and broader than any man she had ever seen. He looked like a Roman Emperor more than a British General.

''My Lord, it is kind of you to see me. I am humbled that you found the time. I will come to the point. I will only ever in my life ask you once for your help, and that day is today. While my husband was away defending his country, I was propositioned by a man of the most devious character. I flatly refused his advances. Since that time, he has threatened to make up a story about my husband that simply is not true. My husband has been through a lot, and I do not want to burden him.''

The Duke studied Sophia now. He was charmed by her. After years of military service, it was always refreshing to see beautiful women in his office and not stuffy politicians. This was the country he fought for, a country that could produce magnificent women like Sophia.

''I see. And what, may I ask, is this man threatening to say about your husband?''

''My Lord. It is a very delicate matter and one a lady should in all probability not discuss outside the home. However, I feel I have no choice. In plain words this man has told me that if I don't lie with him, he will tell the world that my husband is impotent.''

''I see, and why can't you just tell this man to be off and have done with him?''

''Because my Lord, he is the Duke of Beaufort, one of the richest men in London. Who will believe me and my husband against a man as powerful as him? He has the power to ruin us.''

The Duke raised an eyebrow and Sophia noticed a look of anger cross his face. ''Jenkins,'' the Duke shouted. The young man appeared.

''Find out where the Duke of Beaufort lives, send some men round to his home and drag him here. At once.''

''My Lord, I can tell you where this despicable character is usually to be found. 12 Greys Inn.''

''You heard the lady, Jenkins. Send twenty men round there and bring him to me.''

*****

Sophia passed a very agreeable hour with the Duke of Wellington. He told her story after story about battles he had been involved in, and campaigns he had fought. He also talked about Napoleon. When he referred to David, the Duke was especially complimentary. ''Your husband can go to the top of the military if he so wishes. He is a man of steel,'' he said.

''He was very frightened before he left for France, my Lord,'' she said.

''There is not a man alive who isn't frightened of battle. I have seen grown men cry like babies before a battle, but once it started, stand their ground and fight with dignity. Do you think I am not frightened sometimes?''

''My Lord. I have learned a lot in the last few days about the feelings of a man and I would not suggest that at some point in your life you have not been scared of something.''

''You are correct. I am often scared, but I march on through it.''

There was a knock at the door. It was Jenkins. ''My Lord, the man is here, I have to tell you he is being rather difficult.''

''No matter, show him in.''

The Duke stood up as a handful of guards carried the Duke of Beaufort into the room. When he saw Sophia, he scowled at her. ''Is this the man of whom you spoke?'' the Duke of Wellington asked.

Sophia nodded.

''Alright. Men set him down.'' They dropped the Duke and he landed in a heap on the floor.

As he looked up he saw the imposing figure of the Duke of Wellington towering above him.

''I hear you have been less than kind to this young lady. What do you say?'' The Duke of Wellington said.

''My Lord, I think there must have been some misunderstanding. Miss Sophia is a delightful young lady. No one could ever do her harm. I do not know to what you refer.''

''Let me make it plain. If you contact this lady again or even speak of her to anyone, or if you contact her husband or even speak of him to anyone, I will have my henchmen, as you call them, hang you from London Bridge. I command thousands of men, and I am sure a lot of them would be only too happy to take a man, who spends his time avoiding military duty and blackmailing women, to the bridge to have some fun with. Do you understand?

''Yes, my Lord. I do.''

*****

Sophia sat on the edge of their bed and looked at David asleep. It was well into the afternoon, and he had slept all day. When she stroked his hair. He opened an eye. ''Hello, my love,'' she said. ''How did you sleep?''

''Long and well. I feel quite refreshed now. What have you been doing today?''

''Oh, I went to see Alice, and I had a few things to attend to in town. Nothing too important.” Sophia brushed her husband’s cheek. “I am so proud of you, words cannot begin to explain.''

Sedgefield House was a magnificent English manor house, set in ninety acres of beautiful parkland. Lord Wallace, its occupant, had a seat in the House of Lords, and was the chairman of the company his father had founded over fifty years ago, Wallace Stock Brokers Ltd.

''What do you think, Emily? The roof is leaking, do you want to have it repaired now or after the winter has finished?''

His wife put down the book she was reading, and looked at him. ''Peter, I really don't know. Perhaps you could decide. Ask the builder what he thinks.''

''Alright, I'll see to it. It's just that you bought this house, and I always feel I should ask you when we need to repair something.''

''My dear, there really is no need for you to consult me. This house is yours, not mine. The law of the land clearly states that any fortune brought by a woman to a marriage automatically becomes her husband’s. It’s yours to do what you like with. When your late father and my father arranged for us to be married, it was for a sole purpose. That my wealth may help you after the financial crisis left you bereft of funds.” Emily paused. “Since our wedding three years ago, I have come to love you beyond imagination, all I have is yours and always will be.''

Peter Wallace looked at his wife. She was very beautiful and only twenty five, eight years his junior. She had blonde hair with ringlets, which dropped down the side of her head, framing her face beautifully. She was quite tall and slender, and her green eyes pierced every man's heart. When she'd bought Sedgefield House, she had spent almost a year redecorating and refurnishing it. It was now a beautiful home, and a very comfortable one.

In the evenings they often sat together in the drawing room. It was a long room with a beautiful fire place. On winter evenings, they were kept warm and cozy by enormous fires. They sat on separate sofas, each close to the fire. Their two Labradors, Milly and Flossy always fought for the warmest place, as they huddled down for the evening.

Shortly before bedtime, Joseph the butler came into the room, and asked Lord Wallace if he would like a nightcap. He usually partook of a whiskey before bed. This evening he did not.

''I'm tired, I'm going up. Will you come too?'' Emily asked him, hoping he would say yes.

''No, I want to finish this article. You go ahead. I'll be up shortly.''

Emily climbed the grand staircase, which led directly from the hallway up to the first floor. The landing was long. There were five polished mahogany doors on each side. Emily opened the third on the left, and went inside.

''Good evening, Mary,'' Emily said to the maid who was waiting for her.

''Good evening, my lady, I have prepared your bath and put out a clean night gown.''

Emily stood in the middle of the room as Mary undid her evening dress. It was a large room with a huge four poster bed, and a fireplace on the opposite wall. Mary had stoked the fire, and as Emily bathed, it crackled cozily. When Emily got out of the bath, Mary dried her and slipped her nightgown over her head.

After Mary had gone, Emily lay under the fresh bed sheets, and looked at the fire. She so wanted Peter to come up to bed. She waited as long as she could for him, but sleep overcame her and she drifted away. When Peter came to bed, it was one in the morning. Emily woke when he rolled under the covers next to her.

She moved closer to him and put her arm around him. She slowly let her hand glide down to the place she had been longing to touch all evening.

''Emily, please stop, I'm tired.''

''But Peter, we haven't made love for such a long time. I want you. Please take me.''

Peter didn't reply, he rolled onto his side, and closed his eyes. Emily played with his manhood for a while, but when she got no reaction, she rolled over, frustrated.

When the first shades of winter light began to fall through a gap in the curtains, Emily still hadn't managed to fall asleep again. When Peter woke, she watched as he got out of bed. He was a handsome man. The moment she had met him, she was attracted to him. Unlike her, he was dark and his skin was brown. When he stood naked at the foot of the bed, she noticed that he seemed to be leaner than when he'd last allowed her to look. When he slipped into his underwear, she saw how taught his buttocks were, and how strong his thighs looked. He left the room without saying anything.

When Emily came downstairs, she walked into the breakfast room. ''Good morning, Peter.'' she said, as she sat down at her end of the long table. Joseph put a pot of fresh tea in front of her, and a plate of toast. Peter always had eggs and bacon, but Emily's fine constitution wouldn't allow her to eat fat. Her day always began with toast and jam, followed by an apple.

''What have you got planned today, my dear?'' she asked Peter.

''I'm going up to London. I have a meeting. I won't be back until tomorrow. I'm dining with clients and then I'll sleep at my club.''

''You seem to be spending a lot of evenings in London these days.''

''It seems everyone is too busy to talk to their stock broker during the day. It is far easier to make appointments in the evening. After talking business all evening, I really do not feel like taking the journey home. It's very comfortable at the club.''

After Peter had gone, Emily finished her breakfast and put on her coat and walking shoes. Emily enjoyed walking the grounds of the Manor. In the frost and snow, everything looked quite spectacular. As Milly and Flossy bounded around the lawn, Emily looked at the house she had bought for them.

The front door was blue, and it had an enormous brass knocker in its middle. Emily made sure it was polished daily. Joseph was used to the phrase, ''it's the first thing visitors put their hands on.'' To each side of the door were four windows. On the left, the drawing room and on the right a small library, and Peter's study. Below the windows were flower beds, which at this time of year were empty and frozen.

''Hello,'' someone said, making Emily jump.

''Sir John, you really mustn't creep up on me like that. You could give me a heart attack.''

Sir John, Emily’s neighbor, was around Peter’s age and almost as handsome. He was a rugged type, always with his cravat loosened, his hair slightly tussled. Had Emily not been so in love with her husband, lonely at night, she could have easily fantasized about Sir John’s body that she imagined underneath his shirt.

“I was just out for a walk, and thought I would say hello.'' he said enthusiastically.

''I thought you were in the middle of having that enormous house of yours redecorated?'' Emily asked.

''I am, but the place has got sixteen bedrooms and countless other rooms. It's taking forever. It's full of workmen and if I didn't get out for at least an hour a day, I would go mad.''

''Are you sure they won't pinch any of your valuable furnishings? All they would have to do is steal one of your statues and they wouldn't have to work ever again.''

''Quite true, but Patterson is keeping an eye out.''

''How is he? He wasn't very well I heard.''

''Do you know, he's seventy five. He served my grandfather when he was a young man and he's remained faithful to the family ever since. He’s the most marvelous butler a man could wish for.''

''Well please treat him well. He is very old still to be working.''

''Where is Peter?'' John asked.

''Gone to London, to his office, and then on to his club.''

''Will he be away this evening?''

''Yes.''

''Splendid. Then you are free to come over to Eagle Lodge for dinner.''

''Thank you for you kind offer, but I have many things to do here. Please do not be offended.'' Emily was loathe to refuse because she knew how lonely Sir John was after his parents had been killed in a boating accident while on holiday in the South of France.

''Of course. Well, I'll be off.''

Emily watched him walk through the gate, and over the fields in the direction of his property.

*****

Peter looked out of his office window across Trafalgar Square. As usual there were hundreds of pigeons walking around, pecking at the ground. There were at least ten perched on top of Nelson's hat. He turned back to the room and sat at the enormous oak desk his father had bought, when he'd started their stock broking business, fifty years ago.

There was knock at the door and Jackson, Peter's clerk, came into the room. ''I just wanted to check on the fire, it's bitterly cold outside, and we shouldn't let it go out,'' he said, as he picked up a brass topped poker.

''When you've done that can you bring me the client list?'' Peter said. Jackson stoked up the fire, went out of the room and reemerged with a bundle of papers. He sat down opposite Peter, and handed them to him.

''Let's see,'' Peter said, as his glasses threatened to fall from the end of his nose. ''I'm especially interested in the investments we have made on behalf of Sir John Waterford.''

''At the bottom of the page sir. 'W', almost last in the alphabet,'' Jackson said, stating the obvious.

''Yes. I see. Not performing very well are they?''

''No sir, they are not. But may I remind you, we offered Sir John much advice at the time. We warned him not to invest in those stocks. Unfortunately, he didn't listen. It is of his own doing that his fortune is disappearing before his very eyes.''

''Indeed, I remember. It's very awkward, he's a neighbor and I don't want to see him go under.''

''I understand sir, perhaps you can talk to him and get him to sell, and at least retrieve some of his investment.''

''Yes, I will. Now what messages do you have for me?''

''Mr. Stopps called by, he wants to invest two thousand in the East India Rubber Company. Mr. Rawlings wants you to sell his stocks in GNER, and reinvest in some company I have never heard of, and Miss Pemberly send notice that you should meet her at five o'clock in the tea room at Claridges.''

''Thank you, Jackson. Just so you don't misunderstand, Miss Pemberly is also a neighbor of ours out in the Shires. She's in town to do some shopping and I said I would meet her to discuss her finances.''

''Of course, sir,'' Jackson said, as he lifted his tiny frame out of the chair. As he turned his back on Peter, and walked towards the door, he smiled at Peter's explanation of his association with Miss Pemberly.

*****

Peter lifted the collar on his coat when he jumped out of the cab. A biting wind was blowing down Brook Street, and the cab had been unable to drop him right outside Claridges because some workmen were digging a hole. When he got to the Hotel, he saw the doorman in his top hat and yellow coat, carrying some cases for an elderly lady, who it seemed had brought her entire belongings with her to stay at the luxury hotel.

When he went inside, he marveled at the sheer beauty of the place. The floor looked like a giant chess board, with its black and white tiles. Immediately to the right was a staircase with an exquisite oak handrail held up by decorative metalwork. He was pleased to see the welcoming fireplace. He noted that the giant chandelier overhanging the entrance hall still hadn't fallen down, as he always imagined it would one day. He turned to the left and walked into the busy tea room. Claridges was expensive, but it was very popular with the wealthy London set.

He spotted Miss Pemberly, sitting at a small table, in the far corner of the room. As he made his way to her, he could see something was different about her. She was dressed in a maroon bonnet made of silk velvet. It had an pink ribbon tied around the crown and down under her chin. She wore a maroon dress with a square décolleté which showed of the tops of her ample breasts.

''Miss Pemberly, how are you?'' Peter said as he took her hand to his lips.

''Quite well, Lord Wallace. And how are you?''

''Fine, thank you that you ask.''

The two then burst into laughter at their pretense. ''You look lovely,'' Peter commented as he let his hand brush over hers.

''Thank you. And you Peter, look your dashing self, as always.''

''Can you stay tonight?'' he asked anxiously

''Yes. Oh Peter, it has been so long since we were able to sleep in the same bed. I have so missed you.''

''And I you, dear Charlotte. My heart aches for you every time we are apart. How cruel life has been to me. Why did the Lord see fit to have me married off before finding you?''

''I don't know my dear, and I weep almost daily at the situation. If I were wealthy, you could divorce her and come to me. As you know my late father made some terrible financial decisions, and things are really quite tight for me financially. How are your finances coming along now, after your difficulties?''

''Not as well as I'd hoped. I still rely on Emily's money. I only hope one day that my fortunes will change. If they do we can be united. Until that time, my dear Charlotte, I'm afraid we must content ourselves with infrequent encounters like this one.''

''How much is Emily actually worth?''

''A vast amount. Enough to buy this street.''

''We are in the middle of London, and this is a long street, she must indeed be very wealthy.''