Loving a Lost Lord

by Mary Jo Putney

  “He’s my brother,” Charles replied, looking every inch the aristocrat. “I’ve been away for some years, and I am happy to be home again.”

  Georgiana frowned more deeply as she glanced at Mariah, who was now established as the granddaughter and niece of an earl. It was a status that would be quite acceptable in a duchess and made Mariah even more of a potential threat. Adam’s aunt didn’t have enough faith in his sense of honor. He would not betray Janey.

  He tried to remember if his aunt had always been so bad tempered. She’d never been particularly warm, but she’d treated him fairly. At least, until her husband died. After that, her disposition had turned more sour.

  Last to arrive were the Stillwells, including all three children. Lucia, barely out of the schoolroom, was bubbling with excitement to be at a glamorous adult gathering.

  Smiling, Adam moved forward and kissed his mother’s cheek. She was also beaming with delight. In her gold-embroidered crimson sari, she looked very young and exotically beautiful. “My handsome son,” she said softly. “Worth sailing halfway around the world to find.”

  After greeting the general and his brother and sisters, he turned to his other guests. “I have the great honor to present my mother, recently arrived from India, and my stepfather, General Stillwell. Also, my sisters and brother, Lady Kiri Lawford and Lucia and Thomas Stillwell.”

  Kirkland said fervently, “Ashton, how have you managed to find so many beautiful ladies in one place?” His gaze on Kiri, he bowed a greeting.

  “The credit goes to two beautiful mothers who produce beautiful daughters. Let us have a toast to the ladies!” Adam raised his glass to Lakshmi, then to Anna Townsend. His gesture and words were echoed by the others.

  Aunt Georgiana was quietly fuming, her narrow-eyed gaze fixed on Lakshmi. Adam recognized her distaste for having to meet socially with a person she considered inferior. He’d seen that expression in other eyes when they’d regarded him, but his aunt should have enough social sense to conceal her intolerance.

  He took his family around the room to make the introductions more personal. Mariah was also quietly acting as a hostess, bringing people together. She and Adam worked together so naturally.

  Soon the room was full of happy chatter. The young people drew into groups, with Sarah and Kiri and Lucia receiving enthusiastic attention from Adam’s friends. More surprisingly, General Stillwell, Thomas, and Mariah’s father were intent in conversation and Lakshmi and Mariah’s mother looked as thick as thieves.

  Adam scanned the room, checking to see that no one was left out. Aunt Georgiana was a rather tight-lipped third to a discussion between Julia and Hal, but everyone else seemed to be having a good time. He should have included her in his toast even though Janey wasn’t present.

  He happened to be looking in the direction of the main door when it opened to reveal a tall, travel-rumpled woman who carried herself like a Greek goddess.

  Lady Agnes Westerfield had arrived.

  “Lady Agnes!” He crossed the room in a dozen steps and hugged her.

  “Ashton!” She hugged him back, beaming. Her brows rose as she felt the pistol under his coat. Softly she said, “Armed in your own home, my lad?”

  He grinned. This room contained his real mother and the aunt whose home he’d visited regularly in his growing years, but neither was more truly his mother than Lady Agnes, who had been the foundation of his English life. “I’ll tell you about that later. For now, it’s enough to say that I’ve regained most of my memory and I’m delighted that you’re here, even though I remember every scold you ever gave me.”

  She glanced around the room. “Since my problem student recovered and is now mad for cricket, I decided to come up to town. I won’t interfere with your party, but I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.” She chuckled. “On my way into Ashton House I found someone else you’ll want to see, but when she heard you had guests, she went to refresh her appearance. At my age, looking disreputable doesn’t matter.”

  “You look wonderful, and you are staying for dinner.” He took a firm grip on her arm. “You will start by meeting my mother, Lakshmi Lawford Stillwell.”

  “Adam! Truly?” she exclaimed with delight.

  He explained briefly as he guided her across the room, accumulating other Westerfield graduates anxious to greet her. As they reached Lakshmi, he said, “Mother, may I present Lady Agnes Westerfield, who looked out for me when you were too far away?”

  His mother rose from the sofa, then dropped into a deep curtsy, crimson silk pooling on the floor around her. “You have my heart’s gratitude, Lady Agnes.”

  Mildly alarmed by the dramatic gesture, Lady Agnes said, “And you have my gratitude for producing such a fine son. He was the inspiration for my school.”

  Adam withdrew, leaving the women to talk, and made his way to Mariah. She stood a little apart on the far side of the room, watching the guests. She greeted him with a smile. “So many wonderful people in one place. I hope to meet Lady Agnes later.”

  “You will.” The service door in a corner of the room opened and several footmen entered the room carrying silver trays. One spotted his employer and immediately came to offer a tray filled with small flaky pastries, each impaled with a toothpick.

  Mariah took one. As she daintily nibbled it from the toothpick, licking buttery flakes from her lips between bites, Adam had to look away. It hardly seemed fair that she was so alluring without even trying.

  “Delicious,” she reported. “There is a lovely cheese melting inside.” She took another, then sighed happily.

  Adam tried one, then another. And a third. When they refused more, the footman moved on to another group. A different footman headed toward them, his tray containing tidbits of roast sausage. His livery was different from the others, and after a moment Adam identified the fellow as a Lawford servant. He must have accompanied Hal and Aunt Georgiana and been pressed into service.

  Mariah frowned as the man approached, as if something about him disturbed her. Then a buzz of voices sounded from the main entrance to the drawing room as several people exclaimed, “Janey’s here!”

  Adam looked across the width of the room and saw his betrothed poised in the wide doorway, her gaze scanning the group. She had to be the female Lady Agnes had mentioned as arriving at the same time. Though she wore a plain traveling gown, her fair hair was neat and her lovely face vivid with interest. “Hello!” she said gaily. “I just returned home from Lincolnshire and learned that everyone is here. I hope I’m not unwelcome, Ash.”

  “Of course not,” he called across the room, his nerves clenching at the knowledge that her arrival changed everything.

  Beside him Mariah cried, “Adam! Look out!”

  His head snapped around at her urgency. While attention was on Janey’s entrance, the approaching footman had pulled a wicked dagger from under the tray, and he was raising his arm to stab Adam.

  The footman’s tall, heavy figure was familiar, and so was his menacing snarl. “You won’t escape this time, you heathen bastard!”

  Adam dodged backward and grabbed for his pocket pistol. The knife sliced through his right sleeve. His forebodings had been correct, and now that the moment had arrived, he was steely calm. He drew the pistol and aimed it. “Drop the knife, Shipley!”

  Shipley’s eyes widened at the sight of the gun. “Damn you!”

  He threw down the tray, sending sausage slices bouncing, and seized Mariah. Yanking her hard against him with an arm around her waist, he set the knife to her throat. “Shoot and you’ll kill your pretty little whore!”

  Gasps of shock echoed round the room as the other guests saw what was happening. Hal exclaimed, “Shipley, what the devil are you doing!”

  Randall swore and started to move toward the intruder. “Don’t!” Shipley pressed the tip of the blade into Mariah’s neck. A trickle of crimson rolled down her pale skin and stained the golden silk. “Or I’ll cut the slut’s throat.”

  His raging ey
es were half mad. No one sane would have pursued Adam so relentlessly, risking a murder attempt in a room full of witnesses. Nerves taut, Adam lowered the gun to his side. “Release her and you can leave this house freely,” he said, hoping he could persuade a madman. “She’s done you no harm.”

  “She spread her legs for a filthy Indian duke,” Shipley growled. “No decent Englishwoman would do that.”

  Sarah moved forward, her face white but her voice steady. “Are you sure it was her you saw? Or could it have been me? Let her go!”

  Shipley jerked in confusion as he looked at Sarah, then at his captive. He began backing toward the service door, dragging Mariah with him. “Even if this is the wrong slut, I’ll kill her if you come after me!”

  Adam knew with devastating certainty that Shipley would murder Mariah as soon as they were out of the room. Full of hatred and frustration, he wanted blood.

  Adam waited until Shipley’s glance flicked to the other side of the room. Then he raised the pistol, glad the top of Mariah’s head barely reached Shipley’s chin.

  Uttering silent prayers for perfect aim to all the gods he knew, he slowly squeezed the trigger and fired.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Mariah’s heart pounded like a frantic drum as Shipley dragged her backward. His knife hand jittered against her throat as he scanned for possible attack from one of the furious men in the room. Only the fact that the devil could kill her faster than anyone could intercede saved him from being torn to pieces.

  She drew a shaky breath, trying to prevent fear from overwhelming her. Was she the only one who realized that Shipley would kill her once he was safely away? Four times he’d tried to kill Adam and failed, and his bloodlust could no longer be denied.

  Adam realized. She saw the knowledge in his stark eyes. He was going to act, and she’d have only an instant to increase her chances of survival.

  When Shipley’s head was turned away, Adam raised his pistol and took aim. Hoping he was as good a shot as his friends claimed, she grabbed Shipley’s wrist and shoved the knife away from her throat. Otherwise, even if Adam’s aim was true, her captor’s hand might spasm and kill her.

  The blast of the gun numbed her ears as the ball smashed into Shipley’s skull. Her captor collapsed onto Mariah, dragging her to the ground under his heavy body. She felt the blade slice into her throat as she fell. She lay on the carpet stunned, unable to breathe, fearing she was mortally wounded and just didn’t know it yet.

  “Mariah!” Adam threw Shipley’s body aside and crushed her into a desperate embrace. “Are you all right?”

  Freed of Shipley’s weight, she gulped air into her lungs. “I…I think so.”

  She touched her throat and her fingertips came away scarlet. There was blood everywhere. She looked away from Shipley’s shattered skull as she drew another breath. “Breathing would be easier if you loosen your grip.”

  He laughed shakily and complied while keeping a firm hold on her. She closed her eyes, shivering, grateful for Adam’s warm embrace. He was all that was keeping her from falling into shrieking pieces.

  Georgiana Lawford said in a horrified voice, “Merciful heaven! Is the villain dead?”

  “Quite,” Kirkland said grimly. “A death he richly deserved, but now we can’t learn who hired him.”

  Julia dropped on her knees beside Mariah with a man’s white handkerchief. “Let me take a look at that.” Gently she blotted the blood away. After a moment, she said, “The cut is shallow. Bloody, but no serious damage done.”

  She folded the handkerchief into a long, narrow pad and carefully tied it around Mariah’s neck. “Ashton, how badly is your arm hurt?”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” Adam said, startled. “I don’t think it can be serious, though.”

  Mariah glanced down and saw that his right sleeve was dark with blood. Please, God, don’t let it be serious. He has endured so much already.

  A woman took her hand, and she knew instantly it was her twin. “I was so frightened that I would lose you when I’ve just found you, Mariah!” Sarah said.

  “You won’t be rid of me so easily.” Mariah smiled at her sister. “That was brave of you to try to distract him. In return, I’ve ruined your lovely gown.” They squeezed each other’s hands, needing no more words.

  An unfamiliar female voice spoke. “Is this Mariah Clarke? I’d thought you would be much older.”

  Mariah raised her gaze and saw Janey Lawford in the circle of watching people. She was beautiful, with hair like polished golden oak and lively green eyes. Would Adam remember their betrothal now that Janey was here in person? Other women had triggered his memory on earlier occasions.

  Mariah pushed herself into a sitting position. Since Adam’s future wife had arrived, it was time for Mariah to leave his embrace forever.

  Adam helped Mariah stand, since she seemed determined. “When I wrote you, I was trying to sound mature and disinterested,” Mariah explained to Janey.

  “You don’t seem disinterested now.” The other girl’s gaze moved from Mariah to Adam and back again.

  Ignoring that, Mariah said, “You’re looking well recovered from the ague.”

  “The ague?” Janey said, startled. “I’m never ill.”

  Adam kept his arm around Mariah, still shaken to the marrow by how close she’d come to death. The horror of almost losing her cut through all the social strictures he’d been raised with. He couldn’t let Mariah go, not now.

  Catching his cousin’s gaze with his own, he said gravely, “I’m glad you’ve returned, Janey. We must discuss our betrothal.”

  “Hal said your wits were scrambled, Adam, and here’s the proof.” Janey’s brows furrowed. “Why do you think we’re betrothed?”

  “Since my wits were indeed scrambled, your mother told me about the betrothal and our plans to keep it quiet until we both returned to London.” He winced as he recalled Janey’s face. “The memory isn’t clear, but I remember you and I embracing. You looked very happy. Wasn’t that when I offered for you?”

  “I remember the occasion,” Janey said with a wry smile. “But you didn’t ask for my hand in marriage.”

  Adam stiffened as new memories fell into place. “No, I didn’t,” he said slowly. “You were mad for a rather unsuitable man. Aunt Georgiana was flatly against it, but I’m your guardian so I could grant permission even if she disapproved. I said that if you felt the same way after six months, I would consider the fellow’s offer.”

  Janey nodded. “I was so excited I kissed you. It meant so much that you were listening to me. Mama was furious with you for saying you’d grant permission if Rupert was who I truly wanted. But she was right—he would have been a dreadful mistake. I realized that when I’d been away from him for a few weeks.”

  “That doesn’t explain why your mother claimed we’re betrothed.” Adam looked across the room to his aunt, not liking the direction of his thoughts. “I know you’ve always hoped we’d marry, Aunt Georgiana. Did you think to use my amnesia to persuade me to the altar?”

  “You would have had to persuade me, too!” Janey exclaimed. “I adore Adam, Mama, but it would be like marrying Hal!”

  “Once you got over that other stupid boy, I thought you might change your mind,” her mother said defensively. “You and Ashton always get on so well. It would be an excellent match.” She shot a venomous glance at Mariah. “I wanted to make sure that some fortune-hunting trollop didn’t entangle Ashton before you returned to London.”

  Janey shook her head. “Even if I was willing, and I’m not, Adam has never seen me as anything but a little sister.”

  “Our mother might have had deeper plans,” Hal said with an edge in his voice Adam had never heard before. His gaze locked on Georgiana. “You’re the one who hired Shipley, Mother. The other servants despised him because he was such a brute, and his duties were never clear.”

  “I knew Shipley’s family in Ireland,” she snapped. “That, plus the fact that he had served in the army mad
e me feel that he deserved a decent job.”

  “Did you hire him to murder Adam?” Hal’s voice cut like a whip.

  His mother arched her brows. “Don’t be absurd, Hal! He was a footman, no more. How was I to know he would run mad and try to kill Ashton?”

  “During a previous attempt, Shipley said that killing a filthy heathen like me would be both business and pleasure,” Adam said flatly. “I think he despised my mixed blood, but he was also being paid to murder me.”

  Hal moved closer to his mother, his face despairing. “Mother, how could you? Adam was like your son!”

  “He was no son to me! It was your father who insisted that he spend the holidays with us.” Georgiana exploded with rage. “I did it for you, Hal! You should have been the duke, not a cousin’s foreign by-blow.”

  She turned her poisonous glare on Adam. “My husband should have been the Duke of Ashton, and I the duchess, with Hal to follow. Instead, I was forced to accept you into my own household. I pointed out to my husband how easily small boys died, but he was shocked at the idea.” She drew a harsh breath, her face twisted with fury. “If you married Janey, at least she would be Duchess of Ashton and my grandson would be a duke, but you wouldn’t do it even though there’s no more beautiful girl in England!”

  “How did you find Shipley?” Adam asked, wanting to get all the answers while she was enraged enough to speak.

  “His family was employed by mine in Ireland,” she said sullenly. “When he came to me in London and asked for work, I realized that he was the perfect tool to get rid of you. He hated heathen foreigners and he knew how to kill. When I told him what must be done, he was delighted. He said he would try to make it look like an accident, but when that didn’t work, he turned to a more direct approach.”

  Her words fell into the silence like stone. General Stillwell wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders and Janey pressed her hands to her mouth, near weeping.

  “So you chose to murder Adam to give Janey and me something we didn’t want,” Hal said bitterly. “You’ve disgraced us all. I am ashamed your blood runs in my veins.” He turned to Adam, devastation in his eyes. “If you have her charged, she’ll hang. Everyone here is a witness to her confession.”