Seven Nights Of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors

He laughed, a harsh sound. “No, my dear. Fool is the last word I would use to describe you. I would rather call your solution exceedingly clever. The set up. The timing. The alibi. All of it is quite brilliant, actually.”


Set up? Alibi? Diana was baffled. “I don’t understand you, Ludovic. Are you implying I had something to do with fixing the race? How can you suggest such a thing when your own brother rode my mare?”

“The race?” It was his turn to look confused. “My dear, the race is inconsequential at this juncture. I’m only concerned about how I’m supposed to deal with the dead body in my stables.”

Diana felt the blood drain from her face.”D-dead body? Dear God, Ludovic, what are you talking about?”

***

“Your dead husband’s body!” he snarled. “What the devil other body could we be talking about?”

Diana looked stunned. “R-Reggie? Dead?”

“Yes, dead.”

“But how can that be? Was there an accident? Is that why the horse didn’t run?”

“An accident? I suppose one might call it that if one could mistakenly place a pistol in one’s mouth and pull the trigger.” Her horrified expression made him instantly regret the blithe remark. He feared she might collapse.

“A pistol? In the mouth?” she repeated woodenly and sank to her knees in the grass.

With a groan of frustration abetted by sheer confusion, Ludovic squatted down beside her. “Do you mean to say you truly didn’t know?”

“Know?” she whispered. “How could I possibly know such a thing?”

He clawed a hand through his hair. “Then what the devil were you saying just a moment ago? Please believe me, Ludovic. It’s not what you think. Bloody hell! What am I to think when you just confessed to seeking my protection!”

“Protection as in becoming your mistress! Not as in shielding a murder! You think I killed him?” she answered incredulously. “How? How could I have done such a thing? I was with Edward and Annalee the entire time.”

“Damn it, Diana!” he cried. “I thought nothing of the kind until you began talking nonsense about secrets and things I should know.”

“I was trying to warn you that Reggie threatened extortion. That he found out about you and me and intended to take you to the courts of law.”

“That’s nothing less than I would have expected from that pusillanimous pile of—” He caught himself. “I’m sorry.”

She waved the apology away, but her lips quivered, and her eyes glistened. He couldn’t tell if it was with grief or rage. “How could you think me capable of such wickedness?”

Rage then. He groaned. “What the hell was I to think?”

“But to even imagine for a moment!” she argued.

“Look, Diana,” he retorted. “I’ve just seen a man’s brains splattered on a wall. I may not be in the most lucid state of mind at the moment.”

“Dear God!” she whispered. “What happened?”

“I don’t precisely know. In brief, my man, Pratt, found two bodies in your stallion’s box. One was your unconscious groom, the other was what remains of your husband after he took a bullet through the mouth. The offending pistol was still in his hand.”

“Suicide?”

“A highly suspicious one, if you ask me, but there will, of course, be an inquest. I have sent word to the J.P. I believe he will take charge of the entire affair.”

“Reggie’s really dead, then.”

Was it shock or relief in her expression? “No man could survive what I saw.”

“And Johnson? Has he spoken to anyone yet?” she asked.

“Johnson may never speak again. It’s doubtful he’ll recover his senses.”

“Dear heavens.” She sat in a protracted silence, her fingers convulsively ripping at the grass.

He gazed down on her with a feeling of puzzlement. “Are you all right, Diana?”

“What?” she answered blankly. “Yes, thank you. I’ll be fine in a moment or two. It’s just such a terrible shock.”

He took her hand. She looked into his face. “What now?”

“Now, I think it only appropriate to call an end to the festivities.”





CHAPTER TWELVE


THE PARTY BROKE UP almost immediately upon Diana and DeVere’s return. The only guests remaining were either directly involved in the questioning, or were those who lingered simply out of morbid fascination. Ludovic noted the Duchess of Beauclerc among the latter group.

“What are you still doing here, Caroline?” he demanded. “I thought you would have left with March.”

“But what would I possibly want with him when I have you?” she purred.

DeVere stifled a curse. “This matter has passed well beyond tedious, Caroline. Although it was never my intention to humiliate you, you appear to be doing an excellent job on your own. It’s finished between us. I don’t know how to make myself any clearer.”

“But there you are wrong, my love. It’s only over if and when I say it’s over. And I have not finished with you. Indeed, I think I should like to be your wife, Ludovic.”

“Do you now? I never before thought you dull-witted. How do you propose to become my wife when I have no wish to wed you or anyone else?”

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