Page 39 of Drawn to the Duke
No one believed a liar and, clearly, Selina had lied to His Grace.
Her stomach roiled and her heard hitched as she put her head in her hands and tried to think.
Lady Saunders accused Selina of hiring the assassin.
But surely it could only have been either Lord or Lady Saunders?
They had stolen the drawing of Lord Chauncy that had been found on the assassin’s body because she had recognised it.
She tried to recall what else she’d heard of the couple’s conversation when Selina been hiding in their bed chamber. Lady Saunders had said something about waiting until Lady Rushworth’s ball to ask for a loan. Lady Saunders had also been rejected by Chauncy.
Bile rose up her throat. Who would believe Selina over Lady Saunders?
The door opened suddenly and Sir Simeon barked, “His Grace is asking for you.”
He took Selina’s arm as if suspecting she’d run and marched her down several corridors and into the drawing room, where a cluster of people turned to stare at her as Sir Simeon pushed her in front of Lord Chauncy.
He seemed taller and broader than she remembered. But not as yielding. And there was no tenderness in his expression as he waved her to a seat while he stood with his back to the fireplace.
“This likeness,” he said, holding up the very first drawing Selina had done of Lord Chauncy, “ was found on the person who tried to kill me tonight. With the aid of a looking glass, LadyBoothe, it does, indeed, bear the words you claim. Therefore, there weretwolikenesses—the other being the one given to me.” He stopped, sent her a long, considered look, then asked, “But, first of all, whoisLady Boothe? It is not you, madam. And, if you are not Lady Boothe…whoareyou?”
Selina shifted on her seat as she drew upon her courage.
“I am Selina Boothe,” she replied. “At least, that was the name I was born with.”
Lord Chauncy nodded. “Selina Boothe, eighth child of Sir Francis Boothe, Baronet. Widow of Samuel Martin. Footman.” He drew out the pause. “Sisterof Sir Edward Boothe. The artist who drew my likeness. Supposedly.”
Selina said nothing.
“So, Selina Boothe,youclaim to have done this drawing; an excellent likeness, I might add.” He glanced at Edward, who lowered his head.
“Then please prove it.” Lord Chauncy passed her pencil and paper.
“Whom shall I draw?” asked Selina.
Lord Chauncy shrugged. “I don’t care. I only want to see for myself how fast and accomplished—and accurate—you are.”
Lady Saunders, after a quick word to her sister, interjected. “Really, Chauncy, what does it matter who drew the likeness? The mere fact that it says in writing that Iapparentlystole it is clear evidence that I have been falsely maligned. There can be no other explanation other than that this woman is behind the attempt on your life. You insinuate that she is not Lady Boothe? Then she must be connected to one of your political enemies. And whoever that is needs to be teased out of her. For there you will find the motive for your would-be murder.”
Chauncy ignored her, watching intently as Lady Boothe’s pencil raced across the paper, outlining, drawing, shading.
“There!” She said finally when the sketch was drawn, as she thrust the paper at Lord Chauncy.
He stared at it a moment,a look of surprise dawning before he let out a short shout of laughter which he immediately quelled, saying in serious tones, “I think you have established that youarethe artist though I think I also should have asked you to draw my likeness rather than that of Mrs. Piggott.”
A gasp of outrage shook Mrs. Piggott out of her seat as she declared, “Do I have to destroy another of this woman’s vile parodies? Why, she drew me the night she falsely claimed to be thewifeof the so-called artist. Such malice in her rendition.Soupsetting. I had no choice but to burn it.”
Selina threw wide her arms as she declared hotly, “But at the same time you also burned the drawing I’d done of His Grace, meaning I had to find another opportunity to draw him, which I did, looking through the conservatory glass from the outside. But when I hid the picture under a stone, Lady Saunders stole it. Of course, I didn’t know it was Lady Saunders at the time, though I suspected it was one of you seeking revenge for the picture I’d drawn of you, Mrs. Piggott, and I was right, for I found my picture of His Grace on Lady Saunders’ desk. I resolved to make another copy in a hurry, but to mark Lady Saunders’ as stolen as indeed it was.” Selina glared at the two women while Edward sat quietly on a chair, glowering at her as she told her side of the story.
But what could Selina do? She had to tell the truth. Right now, she was being accused of not just madness but of hiring an assassin.
Lord Chauncy considered her words.
Selina wished he would speak. Instead, it was Sir Simeon who said, “Petty revenge appears to be your motive…MissBoothe? I’ve seen it before with your kind. Your drawing of Mrs. Piggott proves that you are quick to resort to petty revenge. Clearly, you wished revenge on Lord Chauncy, too. Why? Because he scorned you?”
Selina glanced at Lord Chauncy and, for the first time since Selina had been accused of murder, his expression was not harsh and unflinching. Instead, he looked thoughtful. No, perhaps that was doubtful.
She seized her moment. “I have been accused of many things in my life, but murder is not one of them. I did not hire an assassin to kill Lord Chauncy!” Selina said hotly. “Why would I? He has proved a … a kind benefactor to my … brother and me. He promised to help us find other painting commissions. Why would either of us have any desire to kill him? He’s not scorned us. He’shelpedus.” She hesitated, knowing she couldn’t accuse Lady Saunders directly but needing to plant the seed of doubt in the minds of her interrogators as she suggested, “Perhaps Lord Chauncy scorned someoneelsewho then hired an assassin to have their revenge? Perhaps Lord Chauncy scorned… Lady Saunders?”
