The Romany Heiress

by Nikki Poppen

  Excited screams broke out from the ladies and men began laying side wagers. Giles landed three successive blows before Manley pushed him off and regained his feet.

  The fight evened out then. Taller than Giles and outweighing him by two stone, Manley managed a jab to the stomach that had Giles reeling against the wall. The man hung back, breathing hard and gathering himself before launching another attack. “I wonder, Spelthorne, did you know what she was or were you the complete cuckold?”

  Giles lowered his head, his temper racing, and prepared to charge the blond giant. Only Magda’s ill-timed words stayed his mad rampage.

  “Oh, he knew” Magda’s voice stopped the brawl. “The perfect earl knew. He married her to save Spelthorne and his miserable pride.”

  “No, Magda. Stop this!” Cate cried out from Isabella’s side.

  Magda whirled on her. “You’re the rightful heir to the title. He married you to silence your claims. I have given you a chance to take back what is yours. Once you’re free of his seductions, you’ll thank me for this.”

  The guests fell on the information like hungry wolves to meat. The volume in the ballroom soared to a roar only to be quieted by Manley’s jeering question. “If Moncrief isn’t Spelthorne, then who is he?”

  “A cottager’s son,” Magda said resolutely.

  Horrified, Cate turned to Tristan. “You’re his friend, do something! Get us out of here” If this went on any longer, Manley and Giles would beat each other to a bloody pulp and that would just be the start of it. Giles’s sense of honor would demand a duel, and she couldn’t bear the risk of losing him.

  Tristan stepped between Manley and Giles. “Gentlemen, there’s much that should be discussed before this goes any farther. Please retreat. Lady Rosamund, my apologies on their behalf.” Tristan put an arm about Giles’s shoulders and ushered him from the room before anyone could protest. Catherine and Isabella followed discreetly behind.

  Lady Rosamund had offered them a private room, but Tristan refused and bundled the group into the carriage, not wanting to give Lady Rosamund any more gossip for the mill. Her ball would be the talk of the town tomorrow morning as it was.

  “I will see that woman in hell,” Giles was still angry an hour later as he sat in his library, a cold rag over the swelling bruise on his cheek.

  “Which one?” Tristan asked wryly, helping himself to a glass of whiskey from the sideboard.

  “Both of them I suppose” Giles sat up. “I can’t be lieve Candice sent Manley to Spelthorne and convinced Magda to talk.”

  Cate sat in a corner by the fire, feeling miserable. Magda’s revelations had made Giles look like a liar. He’d known, he’d devised the deception, trading his name in marriage for the silencing of her claims.

  “This is all my fault,” Cate said, stricken and lonely in her corner.

  Giles looked her way. “No, it isn’t. It’s mine for even thinking such a scandal could be avoided. I was foolish to try to cover it up as if no one would find out. It was not well done of me”

  Tristan cut through the melancholy. “Nonetheless, what is done is done. The news will be all over London tomorrow. We must move quickly to secure Spelthorne in case the crown decides Spelthorne should revert to royal jurisdiction in the absence of an obvious heir, or perhaps decides Spelthorne should go to another male relative with an unspoiled bloodline.”

  He gave Cate a hard look. “You need to decide where your loyalties are. Will you cast your lot with Magda in an attempt to secure your legacy or will you stand by your husband?”

  Cate rose, anger flaring in her green eyes, fists clenched at her sides. “You should not even have to ask. I am for Giles.”

  “Tristan,” Giles spoke sternly. “This is not her fault. She’s not to blame. I will not tolerate such insinuations against her, even from a friend,” he warned.

  Cate warmed a little at Giles’s defense.

  Giles put down the rag and sat forward. “I have a plan to secure Spelthorne. The circumstances are not as dire as they seem at the moment”

  It was a difficult week. Gossip surrounded them ranging from speculation about Giles’s birth to questions about Catherine Winthrop’s gypsy origins. But cool heads prevailed.

  Giles’s plan was a good one, using the very marriage certificate and name in question that had begun Lady FoxHaughton’s accusations. Best of all, it muddled the importance of even determining the legitimate heir to the Spelthorne title. If the heir was indeed Giles’s wife, then all that she had legally reverted to her husband upon her marriage, still making Giles the legally recognized holder of the title. If not, the signature of the bride hardly mattered. Giles Moncrief could marry whomever he liked. After all, hadn’t his friend Baron Wickham married a French citizen?

  The solution was met favorably in the circles that mattered. In royal circles, the prince-regent was only too glad to have the matter resolved swiftly without having to be involved in any legal inquiries. Giles was too valuable a voice in parliament to be risk losing.

  With the prince-regent’s endorsement, the residual gossip about Giles and his new bride turned them into a couple straight out of fairy tales until much had been forgotten, and much had been turned into instant romantic legend about the Moncriefs. Lady Fox Haughton had failed to ruin Giles socially by seeing his reputation falter under the scandal of his inheritance.

  It was with a great sense of triumph and relief a week later that Tristan and Isabella rode with Giles and Cate in Hyde Park. Cate beamed at Giles’s side as they greeted well-wishers.

  “We’ve resolved it. You did it with your marvelous arguments and brains,” Tristan congratulated Giles during a quiet moment.

  “Thank you for standing by me, by us,” Giles returned.

  “Am I too late to toast your gypsy whore?” A voice belonging to Alistair Manley sneered from behind Giles’s group on the path.

  Giles wheeled his horse around to face Manley, feeling Tristan turn with him. “You are warned sirrah, to watch your words when they are directed at my wife.”

  “Do you think a title and pretty clothes can make people forget? A plow horse can never be a thoroughbred no matter who rides it.”

  Giles clenched his jaw against the coarse innuendo. “Have you come here to stir up more of Lady FoxHaughton’s trouble or do you come on your own accord?”

  A few of the gathered bystanders chuckled at that. One of them called out, “He’s got you there, Manley. You’d do better to have your own opinions and let hers go hang”

  Manley’s face reddened at the implications, and Giles saw that the banter had made the situation worse. This man would not back down now and he would be the whipping boy for Manley’s temper.

  “Do you impugn my honor by suggesting I let a woman espouse my thoughts?” Manley said, flushed with temper and dismounting.

  Giles followed suit, ready to swing a fist if need be.

  “No one impugns your honor no more than you impugn mine in regards to my lady wife,” Giles said steadily, knowing the big giant couldn’t agree to one without agreeing to other. If he did, then Giles had a right to fight.

  “I will not be likened to that woman,” Manley growled.

  That did it. Giles swung his fist in a neat motion and connected with Manley’s jaw. Manley fell hard into an unconscious heap.

  The crowd gasped and swarmed closer. Someone emerged to tend Manley but Giles was only aware of Cate at his side. He drew her to him, wanting to protect her, hating that she’d heard Manley’s words.

  “What was that for?” Cate asked.

  “That was for you,” Giles said in a low voice.

  “Giles, you can’t fight them all,” Cate said softly. “Manley won’t be the last to cast aspersions.”

  “No one calls my wife a whore,” Giles said with quiet fortitude. “You’re my Romany heiress.” It was meant for Cate alone but those surrounding the odd scene heard it as well. A few of them burst into spontaneous applause. It was not often such romance p
layed out in their cynical lives full of arranged marriages. This was one for the record books.

  “I like that,” Cate said, trying the phrase out. “Romany heiress it is.”

  Giles smiled at Cate and then couldn’t resist. He bent and kissed her full on the mouth much to the approval of all who looked on.