Page 112 of The Music of Love

Portia walked faster. “Why?” she finally asked.

Her question elicited another frightening laugh.

“Why must you die? Why must your child die? And, most importantly, why must your husband die? Because I married the wrong brother, you idiot. Because our interfering, controlling, monster of a father-in-law threatened to expose everything unless I produced an heir. Did you not hear what he said to you tonight? You are his new broodmare.”

Portia stumbled over an uneven spot in the floor and came to a fork in the tunnel.

“To the right,” Rowena barked. “Our wretched father-in-law has threatened to tell everything if I do not let his disgusting son touch me. He gave me a year, and it is almost over. He will tell the truth and I will live out the rest of my life as nothing more than the wife of a cheating, worthless second son.”

Rowena’s words rang in Portia’s ears and her head spun. “Good God!” she said, her voice a wheeze. “Stacy is the elder.”

“Ah, congratulations, my dear Mrs. Harrington, indeed he is. I suppose I should call you Lady Pendleton?”

Portia had no response for that.

“For thirty-five years the secret held.” Portia felt the pistol jab her in the back. “It most likely would have continued to hold but for you. It is your fault, my lady. But for you the earl would have had no weapon to use against me. But for you the freak would never have found a woman to marry him and would have continued going to whores. Without you the freak would have gone to his grave without ever siring offspring.”

Her brutal words and horrible insults made Portia stiffen—but with rage rather than fear. She squared her shoulders and stopped.

Rowena pressed the gun against the back of her skull before she could turn. “Don’t get any foolish notions. I can shoot you in the back as easily as in the front.”

“Why should I do what you say if you are just going to shoot me? Why should I make it any easier for you?”

“Because I can let you die slowly while I shoot you through the leg, the other leg, the arm, and so on. Or I can offer you something that will give you a painless release.” She spoke with a quiet, menacing certitude that turned Portia’s anger to terror. “Now walk.”

Portia walked.

“Trust me, dear sister, this is not my choice. I tried to do things the easy way. Both you and your husband must have been born under fortunate stars. First he escaped those inept highwaymen I hired. And then, just when I thought I might actually have to shoot you myself, your dearly departed came back to life.”

Portia gasped. “You know about Ivo?”

She gave a bark of laughter. “Know about him? Good Lord! I paid the man to take you away. But what does he do? He decides to make a little more money and blackmail you.”

“So you killed him?”

“Don’t be stupid. Fant killed him.”

“Fant?”

“Yes, the Fants have worked for my family for generations. They are very loyal—and I pay them well, of course. Unfortunately, even money can buy only so much. Fant became frightened that he would hang after killing Stefani so he came running to me to help him out of his fix. He is far more willing to do my bidding now, not that he is any more effective—as he demonstrated by shooting off your horse’s ear instead of your head.”

Portia was too astonished to speak.

“Imagine my irritation when you not only managed to dodge the bullet but stay in the saddle of a half-mad horse.” Her bitter laughter made Portia’s scalp tingle. “I suppose I will have to accept the blame for the minstrel’s gallery myself. Not one of my most inspired ideas but it would have worked if not for Frances.” She paused. “And so, my dear sister-in-law, I came to the conclusion that I would have to take care of matters myself. If you behave, it will be painless. I’ve got something that will make you drift off to sleep. After you are gone I’ll let the truth about your husband’s relationship with the whore be known and there won’t be any doubt in people’s minds why you took your life.

“Then I shall take care of your husband at my leisure. Who knows, maybe he will be so devastated by your death he will do away with himself? I’ve seen the way he looks at you—everyone has. Except you, it seems.” Her voice brimmed with malicious amusement. “You must be an idiot to believe he was planning to run off with the whore. What did you hear in the chapel, I wonder?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “As annoying as all this has been it has given me a good deal of pleasure to watch my own dear husband stew in his miserable juices. If I’d known how enjoyable it would be to watch him suffer and pant I would have thrown the two of them together years ago, instead of working so hard at keeping them apart.”

A small, iron-strapped door appeared ahead in the gloom.

Rowena thrust a large key over Portia’s shoulder. “Open it.”

Portia fumbled with the lock before it made a dull click.

Rowena reached around her and opened the door. “So, here we are dear sister-in-law.” And then she knocked the candle out of Portia’s hand and shoved her into darkness.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“I’m so sorry to pull you away from your family’s ball, Stacy,” Kitty said yet again as they ascended the stairs to the third story. “I feel like such a fool, but I just could not bear another moment. Robert wouldn’t—”