Page 81 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
“Aye. She was dressed all in white that night. Pretty as an angel, she was, and in such high spirits! It never occurred to any of us we’d never see her again after she left that evening.” Mrs. Payne’s pale, wrinkled hands shook as she sipped from her teacup.
“No, I’m sure it didn’t.” Benedict paused, choosing his next words carefully. “It was a strange evening. From what I understand, something transpired that night that led to a duel between Lord Draven and the Dukeof Kenilworth.”
“There was a duel, aye, and a shameful thing two noblemen should behave so disgracefully.” Mrs. Payne sniffed. “But then that’s what happens when two proud, stubborn gentlemen fancy themselves in love with the same lady, isn’t it, my lord?”
The same lady.
Benedict had assumed, along with the rest of London, that the lady in question must be Jane, but what if they’d all been mistaken, and Jane wasn’t at the center of this mystery? What if it was another lady altogether?
What if, all this time, it had always been about Clara Beauchamp?
His heart was pounding as he turned his attention back to Mrs. Payne. “I understand the Beauchamps were close friends of Lord Draven and his family. Were Clara and Lord Draven friends?”
“Friends? Why yes, my lord. I’ve never seen two children more devoted to each other. One couldn’t separate those two for anything. It did my heart good to see them, such dear friendsas they were.”
“I didn’t realize Lord Draven and Miss Beauchamp were such…close companions.” Georgiana’s keen hazel eyes were fixedon Mrs. Payne.
“Oh my, yes, and a good thing, too. Clara was a sweet little thing, Lady Haslemere, but innocent as a lamb. Lord Draven took care of her, watched out for her, especially when she became a young lady and the gentlemen started sniffing after her fortune. The Beauchamps had a good deal of money, and every scoundrel keen to get their hands on it.”
Benedict’s eyebrows rose. If Clara was prey to fortune hunters, then the Beauchamps must have had more money thanhe’d realized.
Mrs. Payne let out a mournful sigh. “It’s a great pity, what happened to Clara. Broke all our hearts, it did, but no one’s so much as Lord Draven’s. He was out of his head over it. He searched everywhere for her, even after all the rest of us had lost hope. He gave up at last, poor soul, but he’s never got over the loss of her. That’s why he doesn’t come to High Wycombe now. The poor man can’t bear to be here without her.”
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Payne, but let me make sure I understand you.” Georgiana’s voice was faint. “You’re saying Lord Draven wasin lovewith Clara Beauchamp?”
Mrs. Payne looked surprised. “Why yes, my lady, since he was a boy. He was maddened with grief when she disappeared. Went off to London and got himself into enough trouble there his father fetched him home, then ordered him off to the Continent. Saved his son’s life, I daresay. He would have destroyed himself otherwise. That’s how heartbroken he was over Clara.”
“Clara.” Benedict met Georgiana’s eyes. “All this time, it was never Jane, butClara.”
Mrs. Payne looked from one to the other of them, baffled. “Jane? I don’t know of any Jane, my lord. It was always Clara for Lord Draven. She was a kind young lady, and a beauty, too, with that white-gold hair and those big blue eyes of hers. She caught the attention of more than one gentleman. But beauty is both a blessing and a curse, and so it proved for poor Clara.”
Benedict placed his teacup carefully in the saucer, his heart still racing. “I’m not sure I understand you, Mrs. Payne.”
“Why, I mean that dreadful business with the Duke of Kenilworth, my lord. Beauty like Clara’s tempts wicked men as surely as it does good ones, though I always thought the duke was more tempted by her money than he was by her face. He didn’t have any back then, you know. He was still a viscount when he first set his sights on Clara.”
Benedict frowned. “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Payne, but Kenilworth had already become the duke by the time of Lord Draven’s Christmas ball.” He’d inherited the dukedom the previous summer.
“Aye, he was duke bythen, but he set his sights on Clara well before that, my lord. He and Lord Draven were friends, you know. Kenilworth had been to High Wycombe a half dozen times before that party. He took up with Clara…oh, let me think now. She was seventeen, so…yes, it was nearly a year before that Christmas ball.”
Benedict didn’t realize his fingers had gone tight until the delicate handle of his teacup actually snapped. “Damn—that is, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Payne. I believe I’ve ruined your teacup.”
“Oh, you mustn’t think ofit, my lord.”
Mrs. Payne made an attempt to rise and collect the pieces, but Georgiana got there first. “Here, it’s all right. Give it to me, my lord.” She took the pieces from Benedict’s slack hand, and pressed her napkin into his fist. “Here, hold this to the cut.” Benedict looked down, and to his surprise saw one of his fingers was bleeding.
“You mean to say, Mrs. Payne, that on one of his visits to Draven House, the Duke of Kenilworth seduced Clara Beauchamp?” Georgiana rested her hand on Benedict’s shoulder, as if steadying herself. “He seduced and ruined the woman Lord Draven—hisclose friend, Lord Draven—wasin love with?”
Mrs. Payne’s mouth twisted in a sad smile. “Aye, Lady Haslemere, and such a pity it was. He seduced Clara, ruined her, then abandoned her after he became duke. I suppose he thought he could do better than an obscure lady with no title, and he’d squandered most of her fortune by then.”
Do better…
Benedict went still, his body frozen to the chair in Mrs. Payne’s tiny parlor. Kenilworthhaddone better, hadn’t he? He’d met Jane at Lord Draven’s house party, then courted her the following season. Jane was just the sort of beautiful, accomplished young lady a duke would want for his duchess, and she came with a dowry that matched her father’s fortune.
“You look shocked, Lady Haslemere, as well you might be.” Mrs. Payne reached out to pat Georgiana’s hand. “It’s dreadful what Kenilworth did, both to Clara and to Lord Draven. He betrayed a friend, and broke a lovely, innocent younglady’s heart.”
Benedict clenched his hands into fists. Kenilworth had done much worse than that. Betrayal, heartbreak…those were the least of his sins. He’d lied and coldly manipulated everyone unlucky enough to cross his path. He’d trapped Jane in his web of deceit, involved her and Freddy inhis treachery—
Mrs. Payne sighed, shaking her head. “Lord Draven knew nothing about Clara’s downfall at first, but you never can hide such things, can you, my lady? He found out what Kenilworth had done the night of the Christmas ball, and challenged him to a duel. Lord Draven’s father put a stop to it, but there’s not a doubt in my mind Lord Draven would have shot Kenilworth if given the chance.”
