Suddenly it was overwhelming, the heat of the fire and her body combating with one another.
“Alexander,” Vivian gasped. “I came to speak to you.”
“About?” he asked against her ear. His breath sent tingles of awareness down her body. Meanwhile, his hand continued caressing her leg, moving up until reaching her hip.
“I-I can’t think straight,” she replied, grateful when he covered her mouth with his.
Vivian turned sideways, pressing against him, kissing him back hungrily.
He rolled onto his back, bringing her against his chest. “We should stop, else I may not be able to.” His breathless words along with the lifting and lowering of his chest made Vivian giddy with the effect she had on him.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now tell me, what did you wish to speak about?”
Chapter 11
January 1818, London
“They will show up,” William said, his gaze pinning Alexander. “It is the right thing to do. You have to make a stand.”
Along with the local constable and two inspectors, he and Alexander waited in the banker’s office. The poor man looked about to faint, his face glossing with perspiration. Just as the man mopped his face, the pair they for waited for entered the bank.
A woman greeted them. Unlike the banker, she was not nervous as she’d not been appraised of what occurred.
“We are here to close an account,” Bettina said, a handkerchief at the ready. “It is imperative that we meet with the banker.”
“Who should I say is here?” the woman asked them.
Jasper and Bettina exchanged looked. Jasper cleared his throat. “Jasper and Bettina Yarnsby.”
“Yarnsby?” Alex said and huffed.
William shrugged. “Helps them get in the door.”
“Go out to them and ask what they need,” the inspector prodded the banker, who once again mopped his face.
Somehow the banker managed to walk in a straight line. Everyone in the room strained to hear what happened next.
“I am Mr. Walters,” the man said and hesitated. “How can I help you?” In the silence that followed, Alex assumed he was inviting them to sit at the newly positioned desk just outside the door where they all were.
“Unfortunately, our half-brother died recently,” Bettina said with a loud sniff.
“His name was Alexander Yarnsby,” Jasper added. “We are here to liquidate his account according to his wishes.”
At the next moment of silence, the sound of papers being shuffled meant they brought paperwork to present.
“It is a rather large amount. You may have to return in a day or two,” the banker replied after a few minutes.
“We can wait,” Jasper said. “Can you tell me how much is available today?”
“I will check. If you would please give me a moment.” The sound of a chair scraping meant the banker stood.
“Are you unwell?” Bettina asked. “You look about to faint.”
“I’ve been suffering from upset stomach,” the banker replied. “May I inquire how the young Mr. Yarnsby met his demise?”
“He fell ill,” Bettina replied and sniffed. “It was very quick.”
“My sincerest condolences,” the banker replied. Footsteps neared, and the man entered the room. He let out a long breath and sunk into a chair.
Alexander gave the man an annoyed look. It wasn’t as if his life was threatened. He supposed knowing they’d attempted to kill him could be distressing.
“Mr. Yarnsby.” The constable motioned for Alex to follow him out. “I will approach first to ensure they are not armed.”
He bit back a curse and nodded. Following the man out, he kept his gaze sharp, needing to see the duo’s reaction.
At first, they focused on the constable, then upon his appearance, their eyes widened.
Jasper jumped to his feet, his face contorted in rage. “Why aren’t you dead?”
“You killed the wrong man,” Alexander replied dryly.
Unlike her brother, Bettina seemed to shrink into the chair, her pale face turning white. She looked from Alex to her brother. “You said he was dead. How is this possible?”
“Shut up, Bettina,” Jasper snapped. “Don’t say a word.”
Bettina began to sob, her thin shoulders shaking. “I don’t want to be jailed.” When she flailed and flopped onto the floor, Jasper took advantage of the distraction and sprinted to the front door.
Thankfully, the constable had posted two officers at the door, and he was nabbed immediately.
Jasper glared at Alexander. “Why should you get everything? He was our father; he should have left us something.”
Despite the anger, Alex walked up to Jasper. “I allowed you to close one account and keep the money. Instead of taking that and quitting, you decide to kill me and take everything.”
As there was nothing he could say in response, Jasper looked past him to his sister. “Bettina had nothing to do with this.”
“We were informed by the local constable that you were both in Berkhamsted,” the constable replied. “It will be up to the judge to decide your fates.”
When Jasper was taken out, two other men escorted a still sobbing Bettina out. She looked at Alexander. “Father would not stand for any of this.”
“If he was your father, he would have left you something,” Alexander replied. “My father would not have left you without financial recourse.”
Her face contorted with fury. “He was my father. He was.”
Alexander remained rooted to the spot until William came up to him. “Let’s review the papers they brought. Perhaps some of them are legitimate.”
* * *
It was late in the evening when Alexander finally put down the paper he’d read several times. An expert had arrived and authenticated only a birth certificate. Everything else was forged. The death certificate for Alexander, of course, as well as a copy of Lord Torrington’s Last Will and Testament were fake. Both had William Torrington listed as their father. The mother was a woman named Natalia d’Arques.
“Now we know what N.D. stands for,” William said in a flat tone.
“What now?” Alexander asked the inspector who’d remained at the bank with them.
He’d met the man only once before and admired his dedication to maintaining law and order in London. The man stroked his mustache. “We will be in touch with you once we question them. All the evidence must be reviewed.”
“Thank you,” Alex replied, watching the papers being placed into an attaché.
* * *
The townhouse was silent as they entered. After so much activity at Lark’s Song, the stillness of the townhouse stood out.
George, the butler, walked into the parlor with them. “Your correspondence,” he said, holding out a tray with several envelopes.
Alexander looked at him. “For me or William?”
“For you. Obviously, news has reached the ears of eager hostesses that you are in town.” The man’s dry tone made him bite back a chuckle.
William laughed. “I wonder how many you would have received if they’d been aware you are to be married?”
As Alexander leafed through the invitations, he discounted one after another. “One.” He held up an invitation for dinner from Lord and Lady Barrow.
He placed the invitation down and sat. “It is as if instead of a burden being lifted, a heavier one is on my shoulders now,” Alex said. “It seems they are my father’s children.”
“They should have gone about things legally. Instead, they allowed resentment to misguide them.” William handed him a glass of brandy. “Alex, look at me.”
When Alex met the eyes of the man he considered to be his only brother, there was strength.
“Alex, you could have been dead. Believe me when I tell you this—if they’d succeeded, I would have ensured their demise.”
His eyes widened at the truth of William’s words. “They would not have lived past arriving at the bank. Instead of the
constable, I would have had others with me that would not be as...law abiding.”
Finally, Alexander nodded, acknowledging that it was out of his hands now. “I will ask to speak to them, then make a decision about whether or not to speak on their behalf. I have a feeling it is not Jasper who was behind the entire thing. He spoke up, but did you notice how he kept looking to her? As if for approval.”
“I did.”
* * *
He’d never been in a jail cell before, and Alexander hoped to never have to be in one again. Jasper sat inside, his head hanging, not willing to look at him.
“Jasper,” Alex started. “Do you wish to know who the man you killed was?”
Jasper’s head came up. “No. It is best that I don’t know.”
“He is the reason you may die here.”
Closing his eyes, Jasper took a shaky breath. “How did things go this far?”
“Where is your mother?”
At the change of subject, the man finally looked to him. “In France. I’d gone there as well, to live.”
“But Bettina came for you. She convinced you to return to England, didn’t she?”
Instead of a response, Jasper took another shaky breath. “It is like I said, I was the one who did everything. It was all my plan.”
“What kind of poison did you use?”
Jasper frowned. “Rat poison.”
“Is wasn’t,” Alex said flatly, noting Jasper stiffened. “What did you put the poison in?”
“The tea...” Jasper gave up. He had no idea. “I hired someone to do it, so I am not sure.”
“A man there to repair the roof saw a woman leaving the house one morning.” Alex hesitated. “Slender and pale with dark hair.”
Jasper shook his head. “It is not possible.”
“Admit it. Bettina is the one who was not satisfied with the amount you stole from one account. I know this because she is the one who went to the forger, not you.”
Jasper met his gaze. “I will not speak against my sister. She only wanted to claim what is rightfully ours. Don’t you understand? Our entire lives, you lived like a prince while we got whatever our father decided to give Mother.”
“I was sent away to boarding school. I was raised by another family,” Alex said, staring at him, daring him to look away. “I have seen Father’s ledgers. The monthly stipend Father gave your mother is staggering. Enough to live at the same level as my own mother. You should have checked everything before going on this desperate journey. Your mother lied to both you and your sister.”
Jasper’s expression changed. Upon arriving in France, he must have been shocked at his mother’s living situation. No doubt the woman lived well on the money she’d been keeping for herself.
“It looks as though our father preferred selfish, distant women,” Alex said. “I’m sorry.”
“Bettina...she is not a good person, but she’s my only sister, and I care deeply for her.”
Alex studied Jasper. There was a bit of resemblance to his father in the shape of his nose and lips; the dark eye color and pale skin he must have gotten from his mother. It was a striking combination. “I regret to get to know you under these circumstances.”
His half-brother shook his head. “Bettina is not Father’s daughter. She was already born when Mother and he met. I think she’s always felt left out because of it. Although he was generous in his affections toward me, he often ignored her.”
There was so much to say, but at the same time not enough. Alex realized that Jasper was young and impressionable. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“I will speak to the judge on your behalf. However, I doubt there is little that can be done for Bettina. She killed a man.”
Chapter 12
Vivian kept vigil from the dining room table, where everyone had eaten and one by one, meandered away.
Ladies Torrington and Yarnsby, along with her mother, had gone to the Torringtons home to prepare for the Twelfth Night celebration. The duke and her father had gone as well. It was gratifying to see that all the parents got along so well.
Clara and Penelope had gone for a ride to the village, and although they’d insisted she go with them, Vivian wished for some quiet time alone.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” Mary, her wonderful companion, neared and lowered to a chair. “It will make the wait better.”
She reached for Mary’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re right. But I find that I am enjoying the quiet of this moment. How do you feel about moving here with me, Mary?” Vivian had been avoiding asking. The idea of Mary leaving her side saddened her greatly.
Mary looked out the window, her face a study in calmness. “I like this place. It gives me peace. I will not mind it at all.”
Letting out a long breath, Vivian smiled widely. “I was scared to ask you. If you would have preferred to remain in London, it would have broken my heart. Mother would have insisted you remain at the house, so you should not worry about not having employment.”
“I prefer to come here,” Mary said with a soft smile. “It is not so far from London that I cannot see my parents on occasion.” She then added, “I wish to remain with you.”
Mary’s mother was Jamaican and her father British. They were kind people who Vivian had visited with Mary quite a few times.
“They will be welcome to come visit as often as they wish, you know that.”
“Mother will enjoy it so very much. She loves getting away from London on occasion. Someone arrives,” Mary said and stood. “It may be Mr. Yarnsby.”
It was indeed Alexander who entered and went to her directly. He pulled Vivian into a tight hug. It was most unusual for a man to openly show affection, but Vivian loved it.
Vivian melted against him, reassured to know he returned unharmed. “I was afraid something horrible would happen to you.” She lifted her face to him and was rewarded with a soft kiss.
“I will tell you about it. First, allow me to hold you a bit longer.” The hoarseness in his voice made Vivian wonder what had happened, but she refrained from asking and allowed the embrace to linger.
The thought of Alexander becoming a constant in her life brought tingles of excitement. She couldn’t wait to know what it would be like to be fully his. To experience the magic of lovemaking again. Although the night she’d sneaked to his bedchamber, they’d not gone so far as him claiming her virginity, she’d learned enough to know that when it happened, he would not disappoint.
“I cannot wait to live with you and spend every day together,” Vivian said. “I know we will be very happy, Alexander.”
He took a deep breath and slowly released her. When he met her gaze, there was warmth in his. “I missed you. It will be very hard to be away from you until our wedding. Tell me we will not prolong it.”
Vivian bit her bottom lip. “I have an idea.”
His brow furrowed. “I am afraid to ask.”
“Did you not like the intimacy and lack of pomp of Clara and William’s wedding?”
He nodded, and his lips curved.
* * *
Twelfth Night at Haven Estate
The house was alit with candles, and there were many more people than Vivian had expected. When she and Penelope entered, Vivian gasped at the beautiful décor in the parlor.
“It’s exactly as I wished it,” she exclaimed. “Do you not think it perfect?”
Penelope gave her a curious look, then nodded. “It is.”
Everyone important in her life was there. Alexander, her family, the Torringtons, Lady Yarnsby, and the Barrows, who’d arrived the night before.
Music wafted through the house as Vivian made her way to find her mother. Just as she passed a mirror, she paused at noticing her own bright expression. Mary had styled her hair with the top brought up and pinned, and the back of her hair flowed down past her shoulders in carefully formed curls. She wore a green gown with soft white ruffles down the sides of the skirt. The round neckline was
modest but flattering.
“You look radiant,” her mother exclaimed at seeing her. “I knew that gown would be flattering, but my darling, you are stunning.”
“I must speak to you,” Vivian said, pulling her into a room that turned out to be a library. “Mother, I plan to...”
There was a light knock at the door, and Duchess Torrington peered in. “Lord and Lady Barrow have a surprise for us.”
Everyone gathered in the parlor. Penelope leaned into Vivian’s ear. “Where is Alexander?”
She’d been so intent on finding her mother, she’d not noticed he was missing. “I don’t know. I’m sure he will be here shortly.”
Lord Barrow cleared his throat and looked to Lady Barrow, who beamed. “I am so pleased that those closest to us will help welcome our son home.”
At Gideon Barrow’s entering, Clara, Penelope, and Vivian rushed to him. They’d grown up knowing each other and hated every long year he’d been gone after being sent away.
He’d left a young, easygoing man and returned a handsome, somewhat brooding man. His gaze was familiar, but it was hard to recognize the Gideon she’d known. His jaw was harder, his cheekbones sharper.
“Has he always had such long eyelashes?” Penelope whispered. “My goodness, he has changed.”
Vivian chuckled. “Having second thoughts about marrying Tommy?”
“Of course not,” Penelope snapped, making her laugh.
After everyone took turns speaking to Gideon, he promised to tell them about his adventures the next day. “This night, after all, is about celebrating the holiday,” he told them.
“I have a surprise as well,” William said, getting everyone’s attention.
Vivian frowned. If everyone was going to have surprises, hers would end up being a disappointment, if she got to share it at all. By the way things were going, dinner would be served at any moment, and there would not be a chance for her surprise.
“Vivian.” Clara took her arm. “Come with me. Hurry.”
The Seduction of Mr. Yarnsby Page 10
