“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Robert snapped. “I’m afraid he is on his way to gaol at this very moment.” He grinned in a calculating manner, as if he knew he held all the cards. “However, I might be persuaded to clear up this little misunderstanding, if you come away with me.”
“She’s not going anywhere with you. Now, or ever.” Jonathan was surprised how calm his voice sounded when all he wanted to do was rip the man’s throat out.
He supposed a jab to the jaw would have to do.
One minute Mr. Linneman had victory shining out of his eyes, and the next, he was sprawled across the ballroom floor, blood dripping from his nose. “You bastard!” he snarled. “I shall see that you are brought up on assault charges for this!”
His outcry caught the attention of several people. Within moments, the dance floor emptied, as they became the object of conversation. A buzz of excitement spread throughout the room as they watched the scandalous scene unfold.
“You can certainly try,” Jonathan returned evenly. “But I would think very carefully before you did so. Such as the fact your case against Mr. Grouseman doesn’t support any evidence.”
“What nonsense are you spouting?” Robert demanded as he scrambled to his feet. “My men apprehended him and five others not an hour past!”
Jonathan turned his head to glance at a nearby group of men in formal attire. “Do you mean those men?” He shrugged. “I could be wrong, but it appears that they are enjoying some punch and light conversation—”
“This is…impossible!” Robert sputtered, his eyes bulging in disbelief. “I received word from my second-in-command—”
“Then I fear he sorely misled you.” Jonathan went for the kill. “In fact, it was your men who were caught red-handed smuggling items from a ship docked at Talland Bay.”
By this time, Robert’s face had grown to a mottled shade of red. “Preposterous!”
“It doesn’t seem that way to the magistrate. Ah, right on time, Mr. Howell.” Jonathan spoke to a man that came forward, separating himself from the crowd. He waved a hand at Robert. “I believe this is the man you are looking for.”
Robert’s eyes widened at the sight of the irons in the magistrate’s grasp. “What is the meaning of this?”
Mr. Howell replied. “Mr. Robert Linneman, you are hereby under arrest by the authority of the King of England for illegal smuggling on the coast of Cornwall.”
Robert’s eyes shifted wildly, spittle flying from his mouth. “You’re insane! All of you! I was set up! Can’t you see that?” Jonathan caught the crazed desperation in his gaze right before he grabbed Fanny around the waist and dragged her to him. Robert withdrew a knife from the back of his trousers and held it to her throat. “I won’t take the blame for something I didn’t do!”
Jonathan clenched his jaw, but he knew he had to remain calm, or Fanny’s life could be in true danger. “You’re only making it worse on yourself. Let her go and perhaps kidnapping won’t be added to your growing list of indiscretions.”
Robert gave a rather maniacal laugh. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, Lord Castleford. To be able to boast about besting a man like me! I won’t let a worthless blackguard like you be the one to take me down.”
“On that score,” Jonathan drawled. “I fear I won’t be able to take the credit.” He motioned to someone behind Robert.
“What—?” The arm that held the knife was suddenly wrenched behind him, and the blade clattered to the floor.
The magistrate quickly rushed forward and secured Mr. Linneman, ignoring Robert’s shouts of protest as he was dragged away.
Now that the excitement was over, the assembled began to disperse.
Edward adjusted the cuffs of his jacket as he walked forward. “That was rather invigorating, if I do say so myself. I was growing rather weary of his blustering.”
Jonathan clapped his brother on the back. “Well done, Viscount Rundell.”
“Did someone say, Viscount?” Agnes and Lilah rushed forward and curtsied rather demurely to Edward. Jonathan grinned as he left them to fawn over his brother while he went in search of another lady who had abruptly disappeared.
***
As the orchestra struck up a lively country reel, the floor was soon filled with several ladies and gentleman. Fanny managed to break free of the crowd and rushed into her father’s arms. She felt tears prick the backs of her eyelids. “Oh, Papa. Thank God you’re safe! What happened tonight?”
He lowered his voice. “A true miracle, that’s what.” He shook his head. “We walked right into a trap. If it wasn’t for Lord Marwood and Lord Castleford and his brother, we would have surely gone to the gaol.”
Fanny was completely at sea. “But how did they know what was going on? How did Jonathan find out?”
Her father’s eyes shifted to a point beyond her shoulder. “I think I’ll let him explain that.”
Jonathan stepped up beside Fanny, and she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him.
Lord Castleford held his hand out to her father, who accepted the offering.
“I’m indebted to you, my lord. If it wasn’t for you—” He swallowed. “When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong. Rest assured, my smuggling days are far behind me. I’m a respectable fisherman from now on.”
“I’m relieved to hear it,” Jonathan replied. “I should hate for my future father-in-law to spend his life behind bars, or worse, face the gallows.” With that, he turned to Fanny. He reached up and ran the backs of his knuckles gently down her cheek. “How about we find someplace a little more quiet?”
She nodded rather numbly. She had so many questions, like why he’d referred to her father as if they were nearly family. As far as she recalled, he hadn’t yet asked for her hand, nor had she accepted.
Fanny felt her heart lodge in her throat as Jonathan led her into the sitting room where they had parted so horribly. She hoped it wasn’t a precursor of what was to come.
He shut the door, and the mechanism clicked as he locked them inside. That mesmerizing gaze held hers as he strode forward.
“What are you doing?” she asked softly, although it was all she could do not to close the space between them and throw herself into his arms.
He lifted a dark brow. “I thought you wanted to talk?”
“Well, yes, I did, but—” She broke off before she started rambling. “Was it necessary to lock the door?”
“As to that—” He stopped in front of her. “We have unfinished business.”
Her heart began to pound in anticipation. “We do?”
He nodded. “Indeed, Miss Grouseman.” He reached out and slowly plucked the pins from her hair, watching as the dark curls fell past her shoulders.
Fanny started to breathe heavily. “I thought you were going to tell me…what happened tonight.”
“What do you want to know?” he murmured, reaching forward to lick a trail of fire across her exposed collarbone.
Fanny was finding it rather difficult to think when he was performing such wickedness. “How did you find out about—” She broke off with a sigh as he found the sensitive spot behind her earlobe.
“The town’s subterfuge?” he asked huskily, his breath warm and inviting next to her ear. “I returned to Killigarth Manor earlier this afternoon. Elliot had just found out that Mr. Linneman and his officers were setting a trap for your father and the others. He was at a loss of what to do, so he finally confided in me and enlisted my help.”
“Why would you do that when we…had lied to you?” Fanny’s lungs hitched as he freed her breast and caressed her flesh, his thumb flicking over her nipple.
“It turns out that I had a personal interest in the matter.” That glittering gaze returned to hers. “You.”
“Me?” she asked breathlessly, as he began to undo the row of buttons at her back, as efficiently as any ladies’ maid.
He smiled, and her heart melted. “If you don’t know by now that I love you, Fanny Grouseman, then I don’t know what
else I might do to prove it.” Her dress fell to her feet in a whisper of silk. His gaze was pure wickedness. “But I fully intend to try.” He lifted a brow. “I have already procured a special license and plan marry you at the earliest opportunity. Unless you object, of course.”
He reached down and found the slit in her drawers, his fingers slowly driving her to madness.
“No,” she sighed.
“No?” He worked her faster. “Well, that is unfortunate—”
“I mean yes!” she moaned. “No… objections.”
“Then that’s all I needed to hear.”
He kissed her soundly on the lips as she came apart in his arms.
She was still drifting in the aftermath when he picked her up and carried her limp body to the nearby settee. He quickly divested himself of his clothes. As he positioned himself at her entrance, he nuzzled the side of her neck. “You know, you never did say you loved me.”
Fanny’s memory was hazy at this point. “What?”
He nuzzled her neck. “Do you love me or not, woman?” he growled.
“Of course I love you, you aggravating man!” she huffed. “Now, are you going to finish what you started or not?”
He looked at her and grinned in the manner that turned her knees weak. “As my lady commands.”
He pushed inside of her, and Fanny closed her eyes in bliss.
Her world was complete.
Epilogue
Two months later
St. Austell, Cornwall, England
Fanny leaned her head back against her husband’s chest.
She grinned. But that wasn’t really unusual. She did that every time she thought of Jonathan — which was often. It was still so surreal to imagine that he was hers. Forever. And she couldn’t be more content.
They were seated together in the modest parlor of their home, albeit a temporary one. Jonathan had wished to remain in Cornwall to oversee Wheal Lady until it no longer needed his attention, but already, it was proving to be rather profitable. In the short time since he’d taken possession of the Marquess of Shropshire’s former tin mine, he’d nearly doubled his investment, much to the chagrin of the previous owner.
Only a week earlier Jonathan had received a letter from the man in question, letting him know that he had his payment in full if he wanted to relinquish his shares. Jonathan had refused, of course, and made sure to thank Nelson for his generosity in offering the mine as payment for his gambling debt.
He had yet to receive a reply.
“She was right, you know.”
Fanny turned her head to see that Jonathan had the handkerchief from the fortune teller in his hand. He was running his thumb over the gold embroidered symbol. “Madame Zeta?” she asked quietly.
“Indeed,” Jonathan murmured. “She told me that I would find whatever it is I sought if only I would be true to myself.”
“The mine?” Fanny guessed.
“It turned out to be a rather fortunate folly, I agree.” He grinned, and her heart blossomed in her chest. “But the answer, Lady Castleford, is right here in my arms. From the moment I met you I’ve had the time of my life.” He gently urged her to move so that he could rise to his feet. He tucked the handkerchief away and held out a hand to her.
“What?” she asked in puzzlement.
“I never got my waltz the night of the ball.”
She laughed, but accepted his hand and got into position. “If I recall, we were rather…preoccupied most of that evening.”
“I do recall.” His green eyes heated. “Quite vividly, in fact.”
Fanny’s heart swelled as he began to spin her about the room. “You do realize there is no music, my lord.”
“We don’t need music,” he returned with a decidedly wicked expression on his face. “Or clothes, for that matter.”
She gasped. “For shame! Such scandalous talk.”
“Well, you do know my reputation…” He winked, and then his face turned solemn. “I wonder if we’ll ever find out what happened to Madame Zeta.”
“Who knows?” Fanny touched his face. “Didn’t she say that sometimes our paths become intertwined? The Path of Life?”
The heat in his green eyes practically smoldered. “I can think of a path of life I’d like to follow right now,” he murmured. “I do need an heir, you know.”
Fanny tilted her head to the side. “Is that so?” She smiled coyly. “Then what are you waiting for?”
He brought his mouth to hers and whispered, “Not a damn thing.”
She twined her arms around her husband’s neck, and they kissed to seal the vow of a future filled with love and promise.
About the Author
Tabetha Waite is the multi-award winning author of the historical romance Ways of Love Series. Her debut novel, “Why the Earl is After the Girl,” was published in July of 2016 and won the 2017 Best Indie Book Award in Romance and the 2018 Second Place Feathered Quill Book Award in Romance. She is a certified PAN member of the RWA. When she’s not writing, Tabetha is reading as true bookworms do, or checking out any antique mall she comes across. During the school year she works as a lunch attendant at the local community college. She is a small town, Missouri girl who held on to a dream for more than thirty years. She continues to make her home in the Midwest with her husband and two wonderful daughters.
You can find her on most any social media site, and she encourages fans of her work to join her mailing list for updates.
www.authortabethawaite.wix.com/romance
Turn the page for a sneak peek at the next book in the Fortunes of Fate series, “Fortune Favours Miss Gold” by Nadine Millard.
FORTUNE FAVOURS MISS GOLD
By Nadine Millard
Prologue
“Hush, Pippa. Papa will hear.”
Eleanor Gold stood at the top of the sweeping staircase of her father’s Grosvenor Square home.
As was his wont, their father had stumbled in the door at close to four o’ clock in the morning.
Eleanor could practically smell the stench of stale alcohol and sweat even from the distance.
Beside her, her younger siblings Phillipa and Trevor trembled with fright.
It was at times like these Eleanor truly felt as though she hated her father.
She was more than used to his escapades by now, having witnessed them since she was in short skirts. But now? Now that she was the grand old age of fifteen and felt solely responsible for ten-year-old Pippa and six-year-old Trevor, her anger burnt hotter than ever before.
Why had they been saddled with such a man for their sire? Why was their mother so useless when it came to dealing with her husband, or protecting her children from his rages, his drinking, his gambling?
It was the outside of enough.
“Lost the damned thing, didn’t I?”
Eleanor’s ears pricked up, and a snake of dread slithered down her spine.
“Lost it?” That was her mother. Her quiet, biddable, church-mouse mother. “What do you mean you’ve lost it?”
“This. The house. We need to pack up and remove to Somerset.”
“For heaven’s sake, Augustus. What are you talking about?”
“Dammit, woman. Do not question me.”
Eleanor winced as her father’s bellows shook the rafters. Beside her, Pippa and Trevor clamped hands over their ears. She pulled them both closer, as though she could shield them from the ugliness that surrounded them every time their father had a drink.
“But, Augustus, we need a house in London if the girls are to have a proper Come Out. And what of Trevor?”
“I can win it back,” the drunken lout slurred. “I just need to figure out a way. That – that young pup thinks he can ruin me?”
“Who?” her mother demanded.
This was the most Mrs. Gold had ever stood up to her husband. And it should have made Eleanor proud, but all it did was increase her fear. If things were bad enough that her mother would actually argue with her husband, then they
certainly were in a world of trouble.
“Tristan Bloody Grayson,” her father spat the name as though it were the blackest of curses.
“Lady Devon’s boy?” Mrs. Gold gasped. “Augustus, he is but a child. How could you have lost our house to him?”
“I’ll win it back, I said,” her father sneered. “Didn’t I tell you I would win it back? I just need some more funds.”
As soon as I’m old enough, Eleanor vowed as they listened to Augustus Gold staggering around downstairs, her mother following and barking questions at him, I’m finding a husband and getting away from him. I’ll take Pippa and Trevor and make sure they never have to witness this again.
There was a series of crashes, followed by a curse or two, and then – silence.
“He’s fallen asleep,” Pippa whispered.
“No doubt,” Eleanor answered, unable to keep the bitterness from her young voice. “Right, the both of you to bed.”
“But I don’t want –“
“I don’t like to sleep alone –“
“I’m scared to be by myself –“
Eleanor sighed as her siblings begged and pleaded to sleep with her as they always did when their father awoke them in the night.
“Fine, come along then,” she said, sounding for all the world like a woman thrice her age.
Before long she had them settled, one on either side of her.
“Ellie?”
“Hmm?”
The night was finally still, and already Eleanor could hear the steady breathing of Trevor beside her.
“Thank you for taking care of us,” Pippa whispered into the night.
Eleanor blinked back the sudden tears that formed in her green eyes.
“I’ll always take care of you, Pip,” she whispered back, ruffling the golden blonde curls so like her own.
“Promise?”
Eleanor gazed unseeingly into the gloom, thinking of how she could happily throttle both her father and mother when she heard such fear and uncertainty in her younger sister’s tone.
“I promise.”
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07N962P37
Lord Castleford's Fortunate Folly (Fortunes 0f Fate Book 2) Page 9
