Mistaken Kiss: A Humorous Traditional Regency Romance (My Notorious Aunt Book 2)

by Kathleen Baldwin

  The carriage skidded and jolted to a sudden stop, as if narrowly avoiding a collision. Someone yanked the door open.

  Willa started when she recognized her brother’s face framed in the lamplight of the open door. “Jerome! What are you doing here?”

  “Protecting my sister. Unhand her, you cur!”

  Alex swore.

  “No,” Willa insisted. “You don’t understand. It’s not what it seems.” She quickly tried to stuff some of her recalcitrant hair back up into the ribbons.

  “I can see well enough what’s what.”

  Just then Sir Daniel stuck his head into the doorway and squinted into the dark coach. “Alex, how could you do this?”

  “For pity’s sake! He didn’t do anything. He saved me from an excessively difficult situation. If you will both calm down and let me explain…”

  “Enough, Willa,” Jerome commanded. “We listened to your defense of this scoundrel the other day, and it won’t wash.” Jerome slapped his hand against the doorframe. “The facts speak quite eloquently on the matter of his character. Now get out of that coach this instant.”

  As if the whole world must witness this insanity, Aunt Honore wriggled in between the two men. Willa wondered if this was one of those maniacal dreams, the kind suddenly overcrowded with exactly the wrong people at the worst possible moment.

  Her aunt smiled serenely. “Good evening, m’dear. I take it you were not enthralled with the widow Vessmere’s card party? Come. My carriage awaits.”

  “Not a bit of it.” Jerome put out his hand, barring the way, not that Willa had moved as yet. “She’s coming with me.”

  “Oh?” Honore arched her eyebrow. (A distinctly useful feature. Perhaps if Willa practiced in the mirror she might learn how.) “You want Willa to come with you? And where are you lodging, Jerome? Bachelor’s quarters, no doubt. No female servants. Not at all suitable for a young lady, is it?”

  Willa edged toward the open door as Jerome sputtered ineffectually at her aunt.

  Alex spoke in a low voice as she stepped past him. “I’ll repair this. Trust me, Willa.”

  She had no idea what he meant, but she knew the whole ordeal was her fault. “I should never have—”

  Honore grasped Willa’s hand and firmly tugged her forward. “Do lower you voice, Jerome. Take a look about you. We’re not the only ones on the street. Would you have Willa’s reputation in tatters by morning?”

  Jerome stood his full height and enunciated in clear, ringing tones. “I fear you have already done a job of that. I’ve merely come to salvage what is left of my sister’s life.”

  Honore managed to guide Willa behind her. “Nonsense. As your friend Wordsworth says, you’re making much ado about nothing.”

  Jerome pinched up his face in disgust. “Not Wordsworth.”

  Daniel nodded. “No, indeed. That was Shakespeare.”

  “Either way. Still making a lion’s den out of a molehill. There’s the carriage, Willa.” She gave her a little shove. “Go along.”

  Willa heard Alex rap on the ceiling of the coach as she hurried toward her aunt’s vehicle. She glanced back over her shoulder. His hack slipped artfully around the cabriolet that had waylaid them and then took off at a rapid clip with her door still flapping wildly.

  Sir Daniel ran out into the street waving his arms, trying to summon his fleeing brother back to the scene. Jerome stood, mouth agape, on the curb like a cleric without a prayer. As she walked away, Honore invited him to visit Alison Hall on the morrow for a less public tête-à-tête.

  Willa hurriedly climbed into the calm, dark sanctuary of her aunt’s carriage. If she had truly believed she needed turmoil in order to appreciate the serenity of St. Cleves, she had her more than her fill now.

  Chapter 19

  And She Called For Her Fiddlers Three

  LADY ALAMEDA’S white-haired butler showed Alex into a sunny breakfast room. A huge mural of the Roman countryside graced one wall. The windows on the other side were draped in butter-yellow silk. The lady herself sat at the end of a long table pouring over the society columns of the Post while munching on a slice of toasted bread and jam. She scarcely looked up when the butler announced him.

  “Come,” she signaled. “Sit. Eat.”

  The sideboard was arranged with enough food for a dozen men—kippers and sausages, eggs and curds, muffins and fruit. Alex declined. He was not here to fill his belly.

  “I’ve come to ask for Willa’s hand in marriage.”

  She glanced up. “And why would you do that? A man like you doesn’t want a wife shackled to his leg. Put a crimp in your activities, I should think.” She set her toast on her plate and wiped her hands on the pristine white tablecloth, inspecting him with undisguised interest.

  Alex stood at attention. “Surely, after last night, it’s no less than my duty as a gentleman.”

  “Oh, that.” She waved her hand. “Duty.” She puckered. “Can’t abide it.”

  He had no doubt of that. “There are some of us who take it rather more serious than others.”

  Her head lifted as if he’d angered her. Instead, she smirked. “You? Are you ringing a small peal over my head, young Braeburn?”

  He declined to answer.

  “Yes.” She drew it out. “I do believe you are.” She laughed. “Quite right, too. Ought not to have taken Willa to Lady Vessmere’s house, eh? Is that the set of your jib? Put you in a bundle of trouble, did I?” She stabbed a sausage and contemplated it on the end of her fork. “Well, you needn’t worry. I’ve dealt with the matter. You are absolved, my son. Go and sin no more.” She waved the sausage in a partial sign of the cross.

  “Taken up the priesthood have you?”

  She snorted. “Perhaps I ought.”

  “Nevertheless, I should like to pay my addresses to Willa. The matter may be of more importance to her than it is to you.”

  “I wonder.” She bit the sausage and peered at him shrewdly.

  Alex disliked the way she watched his face, waiting for the slightest hint of weakness. He’d seen that look in pickpockets and thieves. He kept his expression intentionally unyielding.

  She tapped her fingernails on the edge of the table, slowly, tallying each strike against him. “Tell me, what would you do with a wife? Closet her on a farm in Suffolk somewhere and run off to play with your friends in town? I cannot think such an arrangement would be amenable to Willa.”

  “I wouldn’t...”

  But what would he do? He hadn’t gotten that far in his thinking. Knew only that Willa’s reputation was ruined, and he was to blame. That and the thought of anyone else having her made his blood churn.

  “You wouldn’t what?” She cocked her head sideways, like a vulture deciding if it’s quarry was dead enough to peck apart. Finally, she shrugged. “Still, duty is such a distasteful premise for a marriage, wouldn’t you say?” She dropped the remainder of the sausage onto her plate and stood up.

  “I intend to treat her properly.”

  “Ah, proper intentions.” She swished toward him. “A noble sentiment. I hadn’t thought you capable of—”

  An uproar in the hallway distracted her. “What in blazes?”

  Harry charged in with the butler close on his heels trying to prevent him from entering the room.

  Harry went straight to Alex. “What are you doing here, you scoundrel? Lecher! How could you! After all your fine speeches about her being an innocent. She’s the vicar’s little sister, you said. A closed carriage! Ruined her reputation. Whole town’s talking of it.”

  Alex wondered if he’d fallen asleep and awoken trapped in one of Shakespeare’s more confusing plays. “What are you doing here, Harry?”

  Harry took a breath and tugged his waistcoat down. The gray silk vest had a way of folding up at the point of Harry’s fullest girth. He cleared his throat and stuck his finger into the air exactly like a preacher pointing to the omnipotence of the Almighty. In a booming voice he announced, “I am here to defend her honor.
”

  He strode up to Alex and slapped him across the cheek with a long riding glove.

  Alex pressed his lips together and glanced up at the ceiling, trying to maintain his composure.

  Harry bowed to Lady Alameda. “Your servant, my lady. Sorry to intrude. Couldn’t be helped.”

  She opened her palms wide, gracefully bidding him entry. “Delighted to have your company, Mr. Erwin.” She waved the piqued butler away. “May I offer you some breakfast?”

  Harry glanced longingly at the generously laden sideboard, but he pulled himself up short and stopped leaning over the food. “Perhaps later I might indulge. Pressing matters, you know.” He turned back to Alex. “What say you? I’m calling you out. Pistols at dawn.”

  Alex sincerely wished his friend had succumbed to the kippers. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to fight you, Harry. Although, if you care to stand for a few bouts at Jackson’s I won’t deny you.”

  He rubbed his chin. “No. Won’t serve the purpose. Must be shown a lesson. Boxing me won’t work. One knock to the jaw and I’m likely to go out like a candle. No, it must be pistols at dawn. Nothing else will do.”

  Lady Alameda moved back to her place at the table and lifted her teacup and saucer. “I believe the choice of weapons belongs to your opponent. Is that not proper form, Mr. Braeburn?” She took a sip of her morning tea.

  Harry sputtered. “Oh? Oh, yes. Right you are. Well, then. What will it be, Alex? Despoiling maidens—calls for blood of some kind.”

  “Don’t be an ass. I didn’t despoil her.”

  “Not an ass. Defending her honor. A first rate gel. Happy to marry her, too, after I dispose of you.” He turned to Lady Alameda and bowed again. “With your permission of course, my lady.”

  She set her teacup down. “So many offers in one morning. Rather like an auction, isn’t it? I’m quite overcome.” She didn’t look overcome. She appeared to be highly entertained, like a child at the fair watching the dancing bears. “Which one shall I choose? Dear me. Such a quandary.”

  Realization occurred slowly as Harry added up the sum of her words. He frowned at Alex. “You asked already?”

  Alex inclined his head, flexing his jaw, biting back any number of colorful oaths threatening to escape his lips.

  “Beat me to it? Hardly sporting. She can’t want you. You’re the wretch that ruined her. Aside from that, you’ve no ambition beyond your horses.” Harry crossed his arms and shut his eyes as if the matter were settled. “I daresay she won’t have you.”

  Alex inhaled loudly. “No. I pale tragically in the shadow of your numerous qualifications. Nevertheless, the duty falls to me. As you say, I’m the wretch who ruined her.”

  Lady Alameda tapped her finger against her lips. “There’s that niggling word again. So unlovely is duty.” She grimaced at Alex, crinkling her nose up as if the mere word reeked like a dead cat moldering in a closet.

  She turned at the sound of raised voices and clattering in the hallway. “Oh dear, now who could that be?”

  Alex suspected she already knew.

  Jerome charged into the breakfast room waving a piece of paper. The elderly butler tried to restrain him by tugging on his sleeve, and Daniel followed meekly in their wake.

  “Let them in, Cairn. Let them in.” Lady Alameda waved them forward.

  The harried butler threw his hand in the air and turned on his heel.

  “Jerome, my dear, how lovely to see you. What is it? Another alarming letter?” Her voice took on false gravity. Alex observed the recalcitrant play at the corner of her mouth.

  Jerome, oblivious of her jibe, was in high dudgeon. “No. This is a special marriage license. Where’s Willa? Where is she? Up half the night getting this thing. Best solution all round.”

  Lady Alameda clucked her tongue. “Oh, but my dear, when last I checked, it was against the law and quite frowned upon to marry your sister. Do have some breakfast and reconsider.”

  “What? Good heavens, no! Not me. Him.” He pointed at his hapless companion.

  Daniel glared at Alex. “It’s the least I can do after the shame my brother has brought upon her.”

  “Oh my. How very noble you are.” Lady Alameda’s hand fluttered to her breast in a little fanning motion, but she cast a sly look at Alex. “Extraordinarily noble.”

  Daniel bowed his head in assent. “Merely my duty.”

  “Your du-oo-ty?” Lady Alameda dragged out the word, relishing every newly invented syllable. She smiled pertly. “How very like your brother you are. But I’m afraid these two gentleman have preceded you.”

  “You?” Daniel glanced at Alex in astonishment and lapsed almost immediately to into his customary skepticism. “You actually intend to go through with it?”

  Alex stared at his brother steadily, refusing to honor his insult with a reply. He let Daniel stew in his own scorn.

  “Hey ho. See here, I’m the one who loves her.” Harry thumped his chest with his palm and thumb as if he were clearing out a cough. “Me! No need for all this fuss. I’ll put a bullet in Alex at dawn tomorrow. That satisfies the question of her reputation. Then Miss Linnet and I will tie the knot. Nothing could be simpler.”

  Jerome studied Harry with interest. “And who might you be?”

  Alex decided to perform the introductions. “A Jackanapes of whom you should pay no attention.”

  “Here now. No way to speak of your friends.” Harry looked truly injured. “I’m a perfectly respectable gentleman. Mister Harry Erwin, at you service.” He grasped Jerome’s hand and pumped it enthusiastically. “Not a pauper, sir. Good family. Your sister might be comfortably situated as my wife.”

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed in a mercenary glint. Jerome leaned interestedly toward Harry.

  Alex didn’t care for the direction their wheels were turning. He decided it was time to put an end to their speculation. “Unfortunately, Harry, you might be dead come sunrise, unless you withdraw this absurd challenge.”

  Lady Alameda smiled wryly. “Oh yes, quite true. Where do you plan to carry out this little duel? I should be most interested in the outcome.”

  Harry shuffled uneasily. “Don’t know. I expect the seconds decide all those details.”

  “Allow me to spare you the suspense.” Alex paused to make sure they were all attending carefully. “Swords. In Squire Russell’s east field.”

  “Swords! You know I can’t fence more than a farthing’s worth.” Harry tugged at his ill-fitting vest once more.

  Alex shrugged. “The choice is mine. However, if you will withdraw, nothing need be said.”

  “Dueling is forbidden. It’s against the law.” Daniel glared at Alex. “Now you intend to add murder to your list of crimes?”

  Alex managed to keep the anger out of his voice. “What is one more crime among so many?”

  Daniel shook his head. “Reprehensible.”

  “As always.” Alex inclined his head.

  “Sabre or foil?” Harry scuffed the toe of his shoe against the marble tile. “Don’t really fancy sabre. Blade leaves a nasty wound.”

  “As opposed to a bullet?” Alex crossed his arms and walled himself off from the entire host of lunatics populating Lady Alameda’s breakfast room.

  Apparently, Jerome had more important things on his mind than swords or pistols. He tapped his chin and spoke specifically to Lady Alameda. “This is all very confusing. Am I to understand both of these gentlemen have offered for Willa?”

  Lady Alameda raised her hands palms outward. “So it would seem.”

  He laid the special license on the table and laced his fingers behind his back. Clearly, the man wanted to pace as he pondered the events of the morning, but Lady Alameda blocked his path.

  “Do have some breakfast, Jerome.”

  He shook two fingers at his aunt, declining her offer. “Tell me, what has Willa to say to any of this?”

  “I haven’t the slightest notion.” Lady Alameda appeared unconcerned. She plucked a muffin from the
buffet and spread butter liberally atop it.

  “We must send for her. We ought to see which one she wants.”

  “Oh, I hardly think that would be prudent, do you? After all, she’s far too young to know her mind on matters as grave as these.” She chomped unabashedly into the muffin.

  Grave? Alex didn’t like it. There was mockery in her tone. She was up to something.

  Jerome muttered and attempted once again to pace. “Hhmm. She’s unusually opinionated on most matters, if anyone were to ask me.”

  One small corner of Alex’s mouth curled up. Thank God for that, Willa was opinionated. She wouldn’t agree easily to any arrangement other than one she approved.

  Lady Alameda finished another bite of muffin and brushed the crumbs from the front of her gown. “Aside from that, suppose that our dear Willa has her heart set on Mr. Erwin, here.” She laid her hand on the poor devil’s shoulder. “It’s quite possible that Mr. Braeburn will run him through before breakfast tomorrow. Surely you see the complexity of the situation?”

  Harry blanched. “Don’t like the sound of that. Change to pistols, Alex. Sporting thing for a chum to do.”

  “Chums don’t usually challenge one another to a duel.”

  Harry sighed. “Wouldn’t want to kill your best friend, would you? Might tear Miss Linnet’s heart to shreds.”

  “Good grief, Harry. I have no desire to do either one. Would you rather I allow you shoot me? In which case, you might very well spend an interesting twenty years in Australia.”

  “Would’ve aimed high.”

  Alex fought a growing impulse to shake his friend until the dunderhead’s teeth rattled. “I’ve gone shooting with you, Harry. If you aim high, very likely, you’ll strike me square between the eyes.”

  Harry began to bluster about the accuracy of his aim while Alex did his best to ignore him.

  Jerome picked up the special license again and fidgeted with it while looking askance at Daniel. “There’s only one way to settle this. I would like to speak with my sister. Lady Alameda, if you would be so kind as to summon her?”