Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Lone SheriffThe Gentleman RogueNever Trust a Rebel

by Lynna Banning

  * * *

  ‘So, Mr Bastion, you were with my brother at the end.’

  Drew, Mrs Matthews and her niece were sitting around a small table in the morning room, wine and a selection of delectable little cakes provided by Mrs Matthews’s indefatigable cook set out before them.

  Drew sipped his wine, wondering how much to tell them. That he and Harry had been thrown out of Paris, ostensibly for cheating at cards? That might not shock the ladies as much as the real reason, that Harry had been having a liaison with the duc’s mistress. He glanced across the table at Elyse, looking very demure as she nibbled at one of the little cakes. She had probably inherited her beauty from her mother, but she certainly had Harry’s charm of manner. She looked up at him at that moment, peeping at him from beneath her lashes in a way that immediately aroused his interest. He fought it down quickly and frowned. She also appeared to have inherited Harry’s propensity for flirting.

  ‘You said he died of an injury,’ Mrs Matthews continued, when he tarried too long over his answer. ‘Was he involved in a duel, perhaps?’ She smiled when he looked up, his brows raised in surprise at her question. ‘My brother was a scapegrace, Mr Bastion. An adventurer with an eye for the ladies. He never made any secret of it. Even when Elyse’s mama was alive he could not change his ways and settle down, so you need not think to shock us.’

  ‘There was a little trouble,’ he confessed. ‘In Paris.’

  He paused, remembering how he had half-carried half-dragged Harry to the inn where Harry had told him he knew the landlord’s wife. Drew’s lips tightened. Harry’s trouble was that he knew every man’s wife.

  Drew saw that Elyse was watching him, although he acquitted her now of trying to flirt with him. Her gaze was steady, direct. He knew she would not be satisfied unless he gave some explanation of what had happened. But her candid look made him uneasy. He wanted to protect her from the truth.

  ‘Footpads. Harry was more seriously injured than we thought at first. I summoned a physician but it was no use, he died within hours, but before he did, he drew up certain papers. Including one making me your guardian, Miss Salforde.’

  ‘Yes, I have been considering that,’ Elyse said. ‘Why should he do such a thing, sir, when my aunt has managed very well on her own for the past dozen years?’

  He replied carefully. ‘Your father was very conscious that Mrs Matthews is a widow.’

  ‘And he thought you a more suitable guardian?’ She raised her brows and he observed the faint look of disbelief before she shifted her gaze to the cakes. ‘I believe you had known my father for some years, Mr Bastion.’

  ‘That is correct. We had become close friends.’

  Her hand hovered over the platter before she selected a tiny iced fancy, saying as she did so, ‘If you were my father’s friend, sir, and you were with him in Paris, it occurs to me that you, too, are an adventurer. And quite possibly a rake,’ she added thoughtfully. ‘I am well aware that my father had that reputation.’

  Touché.

  ‘What I was in the past is irrelevant,’ he told her. ‘As is the future. For now I have a task to perform. Before he died your father was in touch with Viscount Whittlewood concerning your marriage to his younger son, the Honourable William Reverson.’

  ‘Ah, thank heaven for that,’ exclaimed Mrs Matthews. ‘Elyse and William Reverson have been betrothed now for three years and I was afraid they would never marry.’

  ‘Quite,’ said Drew. ‘Harry considered the delay had gone on long enough and he was anxious to have the matter settled. He and the viscount came to an agreement, a date was set for the marriage and Miss Salforde will join the viscount’s household a month beforehand, that she may grow accustomed to her new family.’ He glanced at Mrs Matthews. ‘It was also agreed that you, ma’am, should be invited to remain with your niece as chaperon—and honoured guest—until the wedding.’

  ‘Well, of course,’ said the widow. ‘And that is even more important now, since I am the only relative the poor child has.’

  Drew inclined his head at her before turning his attention to Elyse.

  ‘On his deathbed, your father charged me with the task of delivering you safely into Lord Whittlewood’s care by Michaelmas.’

  The cake fell from Elyse’s nerveless fingers.

  ‘But that is my birthday, and less than a month away.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But I shall still be in mourning.’

  ‘Your father knew that, but it is his express wish that the arrangements stand. The wedding will take place a month later, at the end of October.’

  ‘I cannot possibly be married so soon.’

  From her startled gaze Drew knew that Elyse had not been informed of the forthcoming change in her circumstances. He felt a tiny spurt of irritation. It was just like Harry to want to keep such information to himself until he could return to Scarborough and whisk his daughter off to her new life. He would have considered the speed and surprise of the whole venture exciting. Elyse looked as if she needed more time to grow accustomed to the idea. In contrast to her niece’s shocked countenance, Mrs Matthews was beaming at him.

  ‘But of course you can, my love. Heavens, you have been waiting long enough. With Lord Whittlewood’s money and influence behind the alliance everything can be arranged in a twinkling.’ She turned her smile upon Drew. ‘That is wonderful news, sir. I know Mr Reverson and my niece are eager for the match, but we did not know a date had been agreed. And, Elyse, just think of it. You will be with Mr Reverson for your birthday on the twenty-ninth of September.’

  ‘Yes. I shall be one-and-twenty.’

  ‘At which date my guardianship of you comes to an end,’ stated Drew.

  ‘And not a moment too soon.’

  Mrs Matthews tutted.

  ‘Now, now, Elyse, it was your father’s wish that Mr Bastion should have a care for you and we must respect that.’ She smiled at Drew. ‘So you will be accompanying us to the viscount’s principal seat, sir? I believe it is in Cambridgeshire.’

  ‘No. Lord Whittlewood informs me he will be at his town house in London.’

  Drew recalled the viscount’s letter which Harry had passed over to him. It was unusually specific. Miss Salforde was to be delivered into his care by Michaelmas and not a day later, or he would consider the agreement null and void. Drew did not know how binding that last clause would be, but to drag the matter through the courts was unthinkable. It would not reflect well upon either party. The viscount’s standing was sufficiently good for him to survive it, but Harry’s name would fare less well, and the scandal attached to his daughter would ruin her for life. And as for his own part in the affair, Drew had no wish to attract the notice of the authorities.

  He said now, ‘I intend to deliver Miss Salforde to Lord Whittlewood in London by the end of the week. I will then remain in town for the two weeks until Michaelmas. That will give me time to ascertain that Miss Salforde is happy with all the arrangements before I relinquish my guardianship. After that she will be in the care of the viscount, who plans to remove the whole family to Cambridgeshire for the banns to be called.’

  ‘Yes of course, but...’ Mrs Matthews frowned. ‘To be in town by the end of the week we will need to set out in a few days’ time.’

  Drew nodded. ‘Wednesday at the latest, ma’am. If the weather turns we might easily take a se’ennight to reach London.’

  Elyse had been listening in silence, but now she gave an outraged gasp. The news of her forthcoming marriage was shock enough, but to leave her home at such short notice was intolerable.

  ‘That’s the day after tomorrow,’ she said. ‘We cannot possibly be ready so soon.’

  ‘I’m afraid you will have to be.’

  ‘You are riding roughshod over us, Mr Bastion.’

  His gaze flickered over her,
the blue eyes cold and indifferent.

  ‘I would have thought you would be impatient to join your fiancé. Perhaps you are not so eager for the match as you once were?’

  ‘Of course I am, but—’

  ‘But nothing, Miss Salforde. You have tomorrow to do your packing and make your arrangements.’

  She sat upright in her chair, bristling with indignation.

  ‘It is not long enough. Why, there are a dozen little things I shall need, including new gowns.’ Elyse turned to look at Aunt Matthews, but she received no support there.

  ‘We will manage with what we have, my dear. After all, we shall be able to go shopping in town, and think how much more exciting that will be. Do not worry, Mr Bastion. Elyse and I will be ready.’

  ‘Good.’ He rose. ‘I will organise a post-chaise and send you word of what time it will call for you.’

  Elyse felt her anger bubbling up inside. She had one hand resting on the table and it clenched tightly into a fist as she drew in a breath to retort, but Aunt Matthews covered her fingers with her own and squeezed them warningly as she repeated quietly, ‘We will be ready, sir.’

  * * *

  ‘What an insufferable man!’

  Elyse had struggled to contain herself until Mr Bastion had been shown out and the door had barely closed behind him before her exclamation was uttered, resonant with suppressed violence.

  ‘Hush my dear, he may still hear you.’

  ‘I am sure I do not care. I declare I quite abhor him.’

  ‘Why should you do that, my love, when he is doing his best to carry out your father’s wishes?’

  ‘But in such a high-handed manner.’

  Aunt Matthews chuckled.

  ‘He does appear to be in a hurry to get you to the viscount, does he not? But there, your father’s plans were never straightforward, so doubtless there is a good reason for it,’ she added shrewdly.

  Elyse tossed her head. ‘He is the most arrogant, overbearing man I have ever met.’

  ‘Is he? I think it more likely that he is the first man you have met who has not succumbed to your charms.’

  Elyse flushed, not at all pleased at her aunt displaying such unwonted perspicacity. She said no more on the subject and presently took herself off to bed, where her rest was disturbed by dreams of an autocratic gentleman with searching blue eyes.

  * * *

  Despite a long journey and the bracing sea air, it was a long time before Drew slept. He had very reluctantly agreed to become guardian to Harry’s daughter and now he realised that his qualms had been justified. Harry had described his daughter as intelligent, spirited and beautiful, but he had not told Drew just how spirited she was. Nor had Drew believed she would be so beautiful. A veritable diamond. Oh, Harry had described her as such but Drew had dismissed that as a father’s natural partiality. And after all, Harry had not seen his daughter for three years, he could not have known with any certainty that the pretty seventeen-year-old would become a nonpareil.

  As soon as Drew had arrived in Scarborough he had heard bucks in the taproom toasting the incomparable Miss Salforde and the way they had been clustering around her in her own drawing room convinced him that all the menfolk of the town were in thrall to her. It was not difficult to understand why. She was witty and beautiful and she had a smile that could light up a room. And those large pansy-brown eyes—he had no doubt that her local swains had written odes to them. He had seen for himself how they could be velvet soft or sparkling with anger. He imagined they would be heart-stoppingly glorious when they were shining with happiness. Or love.

  The thought had him turning restlessly in his bed. He might not have his old friend’s weakness for a pretty face, but he could not deny the attraction he felt towards Elyse Salforde. What was it that Harry had said?

  ‘Who better than a rake to look after a beautiful woman? Poacher turned gamekeeper, my friend.’

  Well, perhaps there is still a little too much of the poacher about me, thought Drew.

  There was no doubt that he found Elyse Salforde too damned tempting for comfort. It wasn’t just her beauty, but something within her, some force of nature that shone out. When their eyes met it seemed to call to him, like a kindred spirit.

  By God he was turning into an old fool. He pushed himself up and thumped his pillow before settling down again and pulling the blankets more securely around him. He was honour-bound to carry out Harry’s dying wishes and he would do so. He would deliver Harry’s daughter safe and sound to her bridegroom if it was the last thing he did.

  Chapter Two

  The next morning dawned bright and clear and Drew lost no time in making his arrangements. These went well and with the late-summer sun beating down upon him he began to think the task ahead was not quite so onerous. A few days on the road and once they reached London he could hand Miss Elyse Salforde over to Lord Whittlewood. Mrs Matthews had sent him a polite note, inviting him to join them for dinner and he had grinned as he read it. He doubted her niece was in favour of the idea. She had spent most of the previous evening glaring at him, and in truth he knew he had deserved it. He had ridden her hard and given no sign that he found her attractive. She had more than enough admirers and he was not going to add to their number.

  Amongst the fashionable beauties of London she might not stand out quite so much, but in a provincial spa town like Scarborough she was undoubtedly a diamond, and far too conscious of her own worth. It would do Miss Salforde no harm at all to be brought down to earth a little and if she tried her tricks upon him then he would do it.

  Having finished his business he made his way to the beach to watch the horse racing. He spent a pleasant couple of hours discussing horseflesh with other observers, placing wagers, losing a little money, winning even more before quitting the sands. It was still early and there was time to spare before he needed to change for his dinner engagement, so he decided to stroll through the town. The streets were busy and it was not long before a familiar figure caught his eye.

  Miss Salforde was coming towards him in the company of an elderly lady and gentleman. She wore a dark grey cloak over her black gown and it looked out of place against the more colourful attire of her companions. As they approached he recognised the couple as Mr and Mrs Oliver, guests at Mrs Matthews’s party last night. He was relieved to see that Elyse was not escorted by any of her young swains. It seemed the chit had some proper feeling, after all.

  It soon became apparent that the Olivers had recognised him. When they came up they stopped to acknowledge his bow and exchange courtesies. Only Elyse looked less than pleased to see him, standing back from her friends and looking beyond him with every appearance of haughty indifference.

  ‘We are making our daily visit to the spa,’ offered the old gentleman, the improbably brown hair of his bagwig making a stark contrast to the white whiskers and eyebrows that adorned his aged face. ‘But first we are escorting Miss Salforde to the circulating library and home again.’

  Elyse looked a little self-conscious when she realised she was the centre of attention, lifting her hands to show him the books she was carrying.

  ‘I must needs return them before I leave town.’

  ‘We called upon Mrs Matthews to thank her for her hospitality last evening and she told us the exciting news,’ explained Mrs Oliver. ‘You are all off to London! I am sure the ladies must be very pleased they have you to escort them, Mr Bastion. One can hire a courier, I know, but there is nothing so comforting as having a gentleman in attendance.’

  Drew bowed.

  ‘Indeed, ma’am. But—is the library not out of your way?’

  ‘Oh, nothing to speak of,’ replied Mr Oliver gallantly. ‘We will make a little detour, of course, but we are happy to do so, since Mrs Matthews would have had to send her maid, and she has told us how much there is do
if everything is to be packed up in time. We do not begrudge a little extra walking, do we my dear?’

  His wife concurred readily, but Drew’s eyes dwelled thoughtfully upon the way the old gentleman leaned upon his stick.

  ‘If you wish I would happily accompany Miss Salforde to the library, and save you the extra journey.’ He saw Elyse’s start of surprise, her look of alarm.

  ‘Oh, but I could not possibly impose upon you,’ she began, flustered.

  He gave a wide smile that encompassed all three of them, saying easily, ‘It is no imposition. I have nothing to do until dinnertime and would enjoy the diversion.’

  ‘Well, that is exceeding kind of you, my boy,’ declared Mr Oliver, beaming. ‘And nothing could be better, Miss Salforde, for there can be no harm in leaving you in the company of your guardian, what?’ He gave a wheezy chuckle. ‘And I’ve no doubt you will much prefer to be accompanied by this handsome young fellow, eh?’

  ‘No, indeed, Mr Oliver, I am more than happy to remain with you and Mrs Oliver.’

  Elyse’s response was heartfelt, Drew was sure, but her elderly friends thought she was merely sparing their feelings. They laughed aside her protests and said goodbye, strolling away and leaving Elyse standing beside Drew. She was regarding him solemnly, a discontented frown marring her perfect features. His lips twitched.

  ‘I have no doubt they are very kind,’ he said smiling, ‘But to escort you to the circulating library and back again would have added a good mile or so to their perambulations.’ He held out his arm. ‘Shall we walk on?’

  Elyse knew she had no choice. The streets were busy and to refuse his escort and walk unaccompanied through the town where she was so well known would expose her to censure, and there was even the risk of being accosted. Also, she thought indignantly, she doubted he would let her walk away from him. How she wished now that she had declined Mr and Mrs Oliver’s kindly offer and waited for Hoyle to come with her—or she could even have sent a footman on the errand.