17. Machinations

Halfway through breakfast the following morning, a letter arrived from Ravenstag. Hannibal recognised his sister’s hand immediately and frowned as he broke the seal.

‘Is anything the matter?’ enquired Margot as she poured the tea.

‘It is from Mischa.’ And, as she looked uncomprehendingly at him, ‘I received a letter from her only two days ago.’

‘Perhaps she is tired of her Derbyshire acquaintance and wishes to join us here,’ suggested Mason, wincing as he hobbled across to the serving table for a third helping of sausage. ‘Dear Mischa. We are practically family, after all.’

But Hannibal was barely listening. Grimly, he scanned the letter before reading aloud, ‘Elizabeth’s mother visited Uncle Robert last week and was alarmed by his pallor and general weakened state since seeing him at the ball last July. He claims to have been suffering from a cold and refuses to summon a physician. Mrs LeBeau suggested that I write to you, that perhaps you might take it upon yourself to visit our stubborn uncle and attempt to ascertain the true state of affairs for yourself.’

‘Oh, Hannibal!’ Margot set her cup back onto its saucer with a clatter. ‘Of course you must go. Where is your uncle at present?’

‘At the London house.’ Rising, Hannibal folded up the letter. ‘I shall leave within the hour.’

‘What? And miss a day’s sport?’ exclaimed Mr Cordell.

His wife looked a little ashamed of him and busied herself buttering a scone.

‘Hannibal, wait.’

He turned at the door in surprise, to find Margot beside him.

‘May I speak with you for a moment? I shall not keep you long.’

‘Yes, of course.’

They withdrew to the study; and despite Margot’s promise, for some minutes she did no more than look at him and bite her lip.

Hannibal leaned against the desk, arms folded. ‘Come, Margot. Out with it. Although,’ he smiled, ‘I think I can guess the reason for this tête-à-tête.’

‘I think not.’

‘You wish to tell me that you are in love with Miss Graham and intend to propose marriage to her.’

Margot stared at him. ‘I – oh. As a matter of fact, yes.’

It was then that Hannibal realised he could procrastinate no longer. ‘Then before I go,’ he said gravely, ‘there is something which I must tell you.’

Confessions and apologies did not come easily to him, but Hannibal gave himself no quarter as he laid out the full extent of his past interference in Margot and Miss Graham’s affairs. Expression solemn, Margot listened without interruption. And only when he had finished speaking did she walk up to him and lay a gentle hand on his arm.

‘I know how difficult that was for you to say. And I forgive you, Hannibal.’

He shook his head. ‘You ought not. I do not deserve it.’

‘Who among us does?’ Margot laughed softly. ‘Do you think that I share no blame in this? I allowed my brother and my friend to influence me because it was the easiest course. I knew that there would be opposition to the match and I had not the courage of my own convictions.’

Hannibal covered her hand with his own. ‘You have them now.’

‘I do. And,’ glancing at him slyly, ‘so, I hope, do you.’

‘Margot –‘

‘I know full well why you helped Miss Graham’s family,’ she insisted stoutly, ‘and it was not merely on my account.’

‘Hm.’

A grin lit her face. ‘Perhaps it could be a double wedding.’

‘I think not.’ He looked at her for a moment, scandalised, before adding soberly, ‘Besides, I am by no means certain that I shall be having a wedding of any kind.’

***

A few days after the dinner, Miss Verger called again, and alone.

‘Mr Lecter sends his regrets; he is at present in London visiting a sick relative,’ she said, as she was relieved of her bonnet and coat in the vestibule. ‘He has, however, assured me that he will return before the fortnight is up.’

It seemed to Will that this last was directed at him, and he glanced aside in a confusion of warring disappointment and anticipation.

It was soon clear, however, where the chief focus of Miss Verger’s attentions lay. Although her manners could not be faulted, and her conversation excluded no one, enough of silent communication passed between Alana and herself to convince Will that at the very least, an official confirmation of their courtship was imminent.

After tea, Mr Graham retired to the library, as was his habit, and Molly went upstairs to practise on her pianoforte. Two obstacles having been thus removed, Mrs Graham sat winking at Fredricka and Will with a mortifying lack of tact, until Will removed himself to the other side of the drawing room on the pretence of searching for a particular book.

When at last Fredricka noticed her mother’s frantic gesturing, her response was entirely mischievous. ‘What is the matter, Mama? What do you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?’

Will groaned and looked anxiously at Alana, but to his relief she appeared merely amused. Miss Verger, seated by her, seemed also wholly unconcerned, although the same could not be said of the lady of the house.

‘Nothing, child! I did not wink at you! Heavens, what a notion!’

Her voice rose several octaves, and the glare she directed at her middle daughter warned of a severe scolding to come. It seemed suddenly to occur to her, however, that here was an opportunity not to be missed, and she sprang to her feet.

‘Come, Fredricka, I would speak with you.’

The precocious imp flashed a grin at the three remaining occupants before following her mother out. Will, unsure whether his company was desired or not, busied himself at the bookshelf until the decision was taken out of his hands by the speedy return of Mrs Graham.

‘Will, my dear, I want to speak with you.’

It took only a glance at the couple to see that this turn of events was by no means unwelcome, and Will left the drawing room with a quick step and a light heart.

***

An hour passed before Mrs Graham would allow anyone even to approach the drawing room; but at length, Will managed to evade her and make his way back. On opening the door, he observed Alana and Miss Verger standing together beside the fireplace, hands linked.

‘Oh, pardon me,’ he said, thoroughly delighted and prepared at once to withdraw, but Alana shook her head before whispering something to Miss Verger.

‘Yes, of course.’ And with a brilliant smile, and a final press of hands, Miss Verger hurried away.

The instant that she was gone, Will embraced his sister warmly.

‘At last!’ he exclaimed. ‘I was beginning to fear that I would have to put to use my own sorry skills as a matchmaker. But you have managed the job tolerably well yourself.’

‘Will!’ Alana choked down a laugh. ‘You really are a terrible tease!’

‘You must admit this has been an exceedingly long courtship,’ he continued, unabashed. And then, relenting, ‘But as long as you are happy, that is all that matters.’

‘I am.’ Eyes shining, Alana hugged him tightly again. ‘I really am. Oh, Will, if I could but see you as happy!’

‘Well,’ he mused, swallowing down the lump of longing which rose in his throat for Hannibal, ‘perhaps if I have very good luck, I may meet with another Mr Franklyn.’

***

The first day of October began unremarkably. Miss Verger called early to surprise Alana with the proposition of an expedition and a picnic, a scheme to which she assented gladly. Molly took up with vigour the practise of her newest instrument, a flute, which promptly drove Mr Graham to retreat to his library and Mrs Graham to bawl at her youngest child that the summer house was a far more suitable venue for such an occupation. Thus, shortly after breakfast, only Will, Mrs Graham and Fredricka were present in the dining room when the sound of a carriage coming up the drive alerted them to the arrival of an unexpected visitor.

Absorbed in fly-tying, Will left it to the others to rush to the window, though his curiosity was piqued by his mother’s exclamation that the chaise and four bore a wholly unfamiliar crest. Conjectures flew left and right between mother and daughter, until the door was thrown open and their visitor entered.

It was Lady Bedelia du Maurier.

She swept into the room trailing clouds of stifling coconut sweetness, acknowledged only Will – and then with a mere lift of an eyebrow – and sat down. In her fine Indian silk and plumed headdress, it struck Will that she resembled an exotic bird of paradise stranded accidentally among sparrows – sharp-eyed, twitchy and resentful.

‘I hope you are well, Mr Graham,’ she said, in a tone which suggested precisely the opposite. ‘That lady, I suppose, is your mother.’

Mrs Graham gaped, Fredricka giggled nervously, and Will narrowed his eyes.

‘You suppose correctly.’

Ignoring Fredricka altogether, Lady Bedelia appeared to study the dimensions of the room, and the view outside, for several minutes before pronouncing, ‘You have a very small park here. However, I noticed a prettyish kind of little wilderness on one side of your lawn.’ And rising, ‘Mr Graham, I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you will favour me with your company.’

One thought was uppermost in Will’s mind as he accompanied Lady Bedelia outside. Her nephew is nothing like her. How could I ever have thought it? Here is true Alpha superciliousness.

They entered the copse of which Lady Bedelia had spoken; and before they had taken many steps, Will found himself addressed thus:

‘You can be at no loss, Mr Graham, to understand the reason for my visit.’

‘Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam,’ he replied, endeavouring for Hannibal’s sake to err on the side of politeness. ‘I cannot at all account for the – honour – of seeing you here.’

His endeavour had evidently failed, for the lady positively bristled as she turned on him.

‘Do not trifle with me, young man. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only was your eldest sister to be most advantageously married, but that you – Mr William Graham – would soon afterwards be united with my nephew.’ And she drew herself up to her full height, looking down her sharp nose. ‘What have you to say to that?’

For an awful moment, Will could think of precisely nothing. He flushed, stared and finally offered, ‘Only that perhaps your ladyship might have saved yourself the trouble of coming so far.’

‘Because you refute at once such a scandalous rumour?’ she pounced.

‘Because it is not a subject I wish to discuss.’ He folded his arms.

‘Then it is true.’

Lady Bedelia paled, and for a moment Will felt almost sorry for her. The moment did not last.

‘This is not to be borne. I suppose I should not be surprised, however.’ And she raked him from head to toe with disdainful eyes. ‘Your Omegan arts and allurements have clearly drawn him in to a reckless infatuation. How otherwise could he have put aside all sense of duty and honour?’

Will flushed. ‘You would consider the union of a gentleman with a gentleman’s son dishonourable?’

‘Oh, come, Mr Graham.’ Lady Bedelia looked at him scornfully. ‘Yes, it is true that you are a gentleman’s son, but who was your mother? Who are your uncles and aunts?’

With cold anger, Will replied, ‘Whatever my connections may be, if your nephew does not object to them, they can be nothing to you.’

‘Do you deceive yourself so much?’ she sneered. ‘He may hunger for you now, but such base appetites are no foundation for a lasting union.’

‘I see. And does your ladyship speak from experience?’

Lady Bedelia drew in a shocked breath. ‘I came here hoping to find a reasonable young man and instead I am confronted by insolence. I tell you plainly, Mr Graham, that if you insist on carrying on with this foolish plan, you will be censured and despised by everyone connected with my nephew. Your alliance will be a disgrace!’

Forgetting for a moment that no such plan was in existence, Will retorted, ‘These are heavy misfortunes. But the happiness which such a marriage would bring must surely outweigh any external inconveniences.’

‘Reckless child!’ spat Lady Bedelia. ‘And if I tell you that he is engaged already, to my son?’

Will’s heart gave a sickening lurch. And yet... ‘If that is the case, then I wonder that you are here at all.’

Lady Bedelia hesitated. ‘The engagement is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy they have been intended for one another.’

‘Mr Lecter hardly strikes me as one to blindly obey the machinations of others,’ he retorted, ashamed that he had allowed Hannibal’s aunt to cast doubt in his mind even for a moment.

Looking fairly beside herself with rage, Lady Bedelia stepped closer, forcing Will to take several steps back from her stifling scent.

‘Unfeeling, selfish boy! Tell me once and for all – are you engaged to him?’

In that moment, Will would have given much to have been able to hurl an affirmative at his interrogator. But common sense prevailed and he replied quietly, ‘I am not.’

Visibly relieved, Lady Bedelia pressed, ‘And will you promise me never to enter into such an engagement?’

This, far easier to answer. ‘I will make no promise of the kind.’

The formidable lady gasped, glared and all but gnashed her teeth.

‘Then you are resolved to have him! You, with your ignoble background and infamous youngest sister – oh yes, I know it all. Sir James and Lady Price have been good enough to keep me informed of all the goings-on here, despite their daughter’s frankly absurd protestations. Heavens,’ she cried, throwing out her arms in an expansive gesture, ‘are the shades of Ravenstag to be thus polluted?’

It was no surprise to learn that the local gossips had been hard at work. And certainly Beverly was to be credited for attempting to subdue them. But Will had heard enough.

‘Lady Bedelia, as you have now insulted me in every possible method, I must beg to return to the house.’

Bowing stiffly, he walked away. Her Ladyship followed, and he felt the weight of her seething disapproval all the way to the door of the carriage, whereupon she turned on him.

‘And this is your final resolve! Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Mr Graham, that your ambition will ever be gratified.’ Mounting the carriage steps, she shunned the offer of his hand and, once seated, bestowed on him one final furious glare. ‘I am most seriously displeased.’

It occurred to Will only after the carriage had pulled away that he had never actually denied a resolution to marry Hannibal, and feeling slightly sick he re-entered the house.

***

‘Will,’ said his father the next morning, as together they left the breakfast room. ‘Come into the library for a moment. I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me greatly.’

Following him, Will was at once on his guard. But his immediate fear, that Lady Bedelia had sought another way to discourage him, was laid to rest when Mr Graham picked up a sheaf of papers lying on his desk and, chortling, said, ‘I did not know that I had two children on the brink of matrimony. But according to Mr Franklyn, such is the case.’

‘Mr Franklyn?’ Will sank onto the sofa, half-amused and half-irritated. Was there to be no end to this? ‘What can he have to say?’

‘Only that your chosen partner is one of the most illustrious Alphas in the land.’ And Mr Graham winked at him. ‘Mr Lecter, you see is the man! Mr Lecter, who had not one good word to say about you through the whole of last winter. Are not you diverted?’

‘Excessively,’ murmured Will, eyeing the letter with some trepidation. ‘What else does he say?’

‘Ah, well, he seeks to caution me against encouraging you, as he has reason to imagine that Mr Lecter’s aunt does not look on the match with a friendly eye!’ Chuckling, Mr Graham skimmed over the remaining papers. ‘Much of the rest is even more nonsensical, as you can imagine. Although he does wish to tell us of his dear Beverly’s situation and the expectation of a young Franklyn olive branch.’

‘Beverly is expecting?’ Lifted momentarily from his gloomy thoughts, Will grinned. ‘I must write to her at once.’

‘Well, when you do, be sure to convey your assurance of the inaccuracy of her husband’s report, lest Lady Bedelia should come charging back here to refuse her consent,’ his father said gleefully. ‘Mr Lecter indeed! His perfect indifference and your pointed dislike make this so delightfully absurd!’

‘Indeed.’

Painful, the necessity to laugh when Will would far rather have cried. And his father’s blindness to the truth of the situation filled him with a fear that perhaps, instead of Mr Graham seeing too little, Will might perhaps have fancied too much.

***

‘Really, Hannibal, I thought that I was the invalid.’

Startled, Hannibal put down his knife and fork, and frowned at his uncle.

‘Whatever do you mean?’

Robert Lecter brandished his spoon at his nephew’s half-full plate.

‘Well, what do you call this? I swear you have yet to finish a meal since you arrived here.’

‘Nonsense.’ Hannibal clucked his tongue. ‘It is your cook’s servings that are inordinately large, that is all. And as for you being an invalid, I think we can both agree that this has been the fastest recovery in history. Really, Uncle,’ shaking his head, ‘if you wanted company, you had only to ask. You know that you are welcome in Derbyshire and Hertfordshire both!’

‘I do not know what you mean.’ His uncle’s face was the picture of innocence. ‘Although if I did, I would have to say that, dear Margot’s company notwithstanding, the idea of spending any length of time with that appalling brother of hers is not to be borne.’

‘Hm.’

At that moment, a flurry of activity in the outer hall diverted the attentions of both, and in the next moment they rose hastily from their chairs as through the dining room doorway walked Lady Bedelia, face set in a mask of displeasure.

‘Hannibal, I must speak with you this instant.’

‘Good morning, Aunt,’ he replied dryly. ‘I trust that you are well. Now do you see, Uncle, that spreading false reports of your imminent demise is perhaps not the best way to invite guests?’

‘Hmph.’

‘Oh, that.’ Lady Bedelia waved her hand dismissively. ‘I took no note of that. Robert, I see that you are as impossible as always.’

‘Bedelia,’ he returned, not one bit abashed, ‘I see that you are as cheerless as always.’

‘It is of a false report of another kind that I wish to speak,’ she snapped, sparing him a single withering glare before turning again to Hannibal. ‘I would have you know, Hannibal, that there is a most scurrilous rumour abroad about you – a rumour which, I believe, has been industriously circulated by certain persons known to all present.’

‘A rumour, eh? And a scurrilous one at that! Well done, my boy.’

Hannibal cast his uncle an impatient glance. ‘Uncle, please. Aunt Bedelia, do sit down.’

He drew out a chair and after a pause she seated herself, back ramrod straight, still the picture of indignation.

‘Now tell me. What is this rumour?’

‘That you, my nephew, Mr Hannibal Lecter of Ravenstag House, are engaged to be married to Mr William Graham, that upstart Omega of ignoble birth from Hertfordshire.’

So taken aback was he that it took Hannibal several moments to register the less-than-flattering description of Will.

‘Aunt,’ he snapped. ‘I would ask you to modify your language when you speak of my – of Mr Graham.’

‘I am sorry,’ she sighed, pressing a hand lightly to her forehead. ‘Perhaps that was indelicate of me. But you must know that this dreadful rumour will only gain credence as long as he refuses to deny it!’

‘What do you mean?’ Hannibal stiffened. ‘Aunt, please tell me that you have not confronted Mr Graham about this.’

‘Of course I have!’

‘That is totally unacceptable!’

Half-rising from his seat, protective Alpha instincts surfacing strongly, he was stopped by his uncle, who motioned for him to retake his seat.

‘Bedelia, do you mean to say that the young man claims to be engaged to Hannibal?’

‘Well, no,’ she admitted, looking haughtily from one to the other, ‘but neither would he give me any assurance that such an idea was beyond his province!’

‘He would not?’

How quickly Hannibal’s anger drained away upon hearing those words.

‘Indeed he would not!’ she asserted strongly. ‘In fact, he had the temerity to lecture me – me – on terms of equality between gentlemen. And he flatly refused to discount the possibility of entering into a future engagement with you! Can you imagine?’

Hannibal certainly could, and he could no more prevent the smile that spread across his face than he could stop the sun from rising.

‘Thank you, Aunt Bedelia.’ He took her hand and kissed the back of it. ‘I am eternally indebted to you.’

‘But of course, dearest Hannibal,’ she exclaimed, softening immediately.

Standing, Hannibal straightened his coat. ‘And now, if you will both excuse me, I must return to Hertfordshire this instant.’

His uncle grinned. ‘About time, my boy. About time! I wager you have got your appetite back now, eh?’

‘Robert? What can you mean?’ Lady Bedelia stared, first at him and then at Hannibal. ‘Hannibal?’

But Hannibal was already striding towards the door.

‘Goodbye, Aunt Bedelia. Uncle, I shall see you again soon.’

‘At the wedding, I should not wonder,’ his uncle called after him. ‘I look forward to receiving my invitation very soon!’

‘Of which wedding do you speak?’ Lady Bedelia’s voice grew shriller by the moment. ‘Robert? Which wedding?’

The last thing Hannibal heard before hurrying upstairs to instruct his valet and summon the carriage was his uncle’s laughter ringing merrily through the house.

***

The Graham household was by now accustomed to receiving morning calls from the lady of Muskrat Hall; and so when Miss Verger was announced, and Mrs Graham immediately set to fussing over Alana’s hair, Will continued reading his book.

‘And Mr Lecter.’

He started, looked up, and their eyes instantly met. Impossible not to recall Lady Bedelia’s warnings, and Will blushed, not least at the thought that his mother might mention their illustrious visitor. Anticipating an agony of embarrassment, he looked quickly away again. Happily, however, Miss Verger managed to get in the first word.

‘Good morning, Mrs Graham. It is such a beautiful day, I should like to propose an expedition. Perhaps a walk across the fields to Muskrat Hall?’

Mrs Graham blanched visibly at the idea of doing any such thing.

‘Oh, my dear, I fear my walking days are over. But by all means take the children.’

‘I must practise for my recital at Sir James’,’ protested Molly.

‘And I have promised to call on Brian – that is, Mr Price,’ amended Fredricka hastily. ‘He took away my pens last week to mend them, and I cannot write my journal without them.’

‘Oh, you and your scribblings,’ sniffed Mrs Graham. ‘Very well, then. I fear, Miss Verger, that you shall have to make do with only Alana and Will for company this morning.’

Miss Verger only smiled. ‘Company which we should be very glad to have, should not we, Hannibal?’

‘Indeed we should.’

The warmth of Hannibal’s tone drew Will’s gaze back to him. He was at that moment looking at Miss Verger, and Will took the opportunity to admire the very fine figure his lover cut in his coat of olive green, high-crowned hat held between gloved hands. Every inch the aristocratic Alpha. Yet Will knew the man beneath the trappings; his scent, his taste, the smooth planes of his body, the delicious roughness of hair beneath his palms. Knew him and ached for him, as he ached still at the memory of the beautiful interlude they had shared at Ravenstag, where for a few sweet days they had existed in their own private world when all things had seemed possible.

‘Will?’ Alana was looking at him with enquiring eagerness. ‘What say you?’

A resolution forming in his mind, Will flashed a grin at his sister. ‘Why not? It is, as Miss Verger says, a lovely day.’

He avoided looking at Hannibal as they all set out together, allowing Alana and Miss Verger to fill the silence with talk of the upcoming party at Sir James’s. Hannibal was equally quiet, and it was not until they had been walking for some time, Wolf Manor far from their sight, Alana and Miss Verger lagging behind, that Will drew a deep breath and began.

‘Hannibal, there is something that I have wished for some time to say to you.’ He flicked a glance sideways; and satisfied that he had Hannibal’s full attention, ploughed on. ‘I want to thank you, most sincerely, for what you did for Abigail. I know it all, as does Alana, and I cannot tell you how grateful we are. It is a debt that can never be repaid.’

There was a long silence, at the end of which Hannibal replied, in a tone rather less than tranquil, ‘I am sorry. I did not think that Mrs Crawford was so little to be trusted.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Will stopped and stared at him. ‘You would blame my aunt for telling me? Why? Because you would rather have told me yourself?’

‘Because it is not something I intended you ever to know,’ replied Hannibal stiffly. ‘It was a situation of my making, and I alone was responsible for its solution.’

In that moment, Will could happily have kicked him in his aristocratic shins.

‘You would really not have told me?’

‘I would not.’

Mouth firmed, Hannibal set off walking again; and Will, aware of Alana and Miss Verger closing behind them, fell into step beside him.

‘It was not my aunt’s fault – Abigail let slip your involvement in the wedding and I pursued the matter.’ He huffed a harsh laugh. ‘My aunt was, I think, surprised that I did not already know.’

He felt Hannibal’s eyes on him.

‘You are angry.’

‘I am singularly angry.’

‘It is not good to see me, then?’

Will ground his teeth. ‘Good? At this particular moment, no.’

‘May I ask why?’

Will spread his hands in a gesture of utter frustration.

‘Why do you think? Because in Bakewell you walked away without a word. Because you planned all of this and communicated none of it to me, not even when you came back. Because you allowed me to believe that you had abandoned me. That I no longer meant anything to you.’

‘I did no such thing!’ Sounding highly affronted, Hannibal jammed his hat back onto his head and strode on. ‘I told you how much I had missed you!’

‘I am not some weak little Omegan doll to be soothed and pacified,’ snapped Will, easily keeping pace with him. ‘I will not live my life being fed half-truths and platitudes.’

‘Being –’ Hannibal’s breath hissed between his teeth. ‘Well, Mr Graham, if that is truly what you think of me then perhaps you would rather not keep company with me any longer.’

A knot of dread twisted in Will’s stomach, even as he replied with bitter emphasis, ‘Oh, most assuredly not, Mr Lecter.’

Turning on his heel, he stalked back in the direction of the house, passing Alana and Miss Verger with barely an acknowledgement of the concerned-looking couple. And several times on the way home he stumbled, as tears filled his eyes and spilled hotly down his cheeks.