Big Bad Royal: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Tia Siren

  *****

  ''But how can that be true?'' Adele said.

  The man sitting opposite her was large and intimidating. A fighter and a small time criminal. When he'd arrived at the house, the butler had wanted to call the police, but Adele had insisted on seeing him. He'd made such a fuss, and she didn't want the man to strike Arthur. When he'd taken off his cap, she'd gasped at his shaven head. Until then, he'd looked half reasonable, but totally bald he looked evil.

  ''I'm telling you it's true. Your husband had a lucky escape.''

  ''What do you mean lucky? How is dying, lucky?''

  ''If you knew the people I do, then you would think him lucky to have died rather than fall into their hands.''

  Adele wrung her hands and threw her eyes to the ceiling in despair. How could he have done it to her? She'd loved him, looked after him, decorated his house and tried to have his children. Tried so hard. ''What does it all mean, I still don't fully understand.''

  Giles Kellet's hands were large, and Adele jumped when he clapped them together in frustration. He knew that the lady was innocent, a gentle creature, but he was beginning to find her ignore of her late husband’s affairs, frustrating. ''I will explain it one more time.'' He leaned forward and lowered his voice, hoping she would understand this time. ''Your husband paid me to murder someone of his acquaintance. I'm not a murderer,'' he said almost proudly as if it was a lifetime achievement. ''I passed the order on to someone I know, who is very much a murderer.'' Adele nodded, her brain full of horrible images. ''The problem is, your husband died without paying us. As his widow, we are appealing to your kindness to see that your husband's debt is honored.''

  ''But........'' Adele held her breath and tried to express herself clearly. ''Did the murder take place?'' She winced. She sounded as if she was involved, a party to the deadly deed.

  ''Not yet, but it will. After you've paid us.''

  ''Mr. Kellet,'' she doubted that was his real name. ''if you haven't carried out my husband's wishes, then how can you justify your fee?''

  ''The deal was, he would pay us upfront, and he didn't.''

  Adele had a sudden rush of bravery. ''Quite preposterous, coming in here, asking me to pay for something my husband allegedly asked you to do. I will not pay. The police would be very interested in your story.''

  Kellet's eyes narrowed and his expression sinister. He leaned even further forward on his chair and grasped Adele's knee. When he looked at her, he saw fear, genuine fear and he loved it. ''You will pay, and the person will be killed. If you do not, I will let it be known in society that your husband was a murderer. What will that do to your reputation?'' He let go of her, and she instantly began to rub the place where his hands had gripped her.

  ''But I don't want to be responsible for.....''

  ''Shut up you stupid woman,'' he lost his temper. ''You have two weeks to pay or face the consequences.''

  Adele began to weep. ''How much is it?'' She just wanted him to go.

  ''Thirty thousand pounds.''

  ''But I don't have that much. I could never pay you.....''

  She saw his eyes shift around the room, looking at all the valuable porcelain. ''Ah, but you're wrong aren't you? You can pay, you just need to....'' he searched for the words. ''Liquidize your assets. This house, your land, your possessions, I'm sure they are worth enough to cover it.''

  Adele didn't know how much everything was worth, but she did know she didn't have that kind of money in cash, not even a third of it. Kellet stood up and looked at her. She seemed to have shrunk since his arrival in her house. She'd sat upright and attentively, now she was hunched in the chair, her head hanging, and her hands white as they clasped each other.

  ******

  Bartholomew Pimms looked like his name, brash. Tall, well over six feet, he was twenty-nine and already at the top of his profession. Dressed in a bright red coat with a yellow waistcoat, he was barrel-chested, much like many of the criminals he defended. Adele imagined him in his wig, playing to the jury in a courtroom. Making events sound more dramatic than they actually were.

  ''Elanor told me you wanted to talk to me,'' he said, as he sat in the same seat Kellet had, just a few hours earlier.

  Adele didn't like him, but she knew of nobody else better placed to advise her. She hated having to reveal this to him. She knew how he would react when she told him. He would gloat, he'd always told her, her husband was a good for nothing. You should have married me, was another statement she expected him to use. ''I have a problem of the gravest nature.''

  Bartholomew leaned back. Very little appeared grave to him anymore. He knew all the country's worst criminals, and he'd seen most of life's gruesome twists. ''Tell me.''

  ''There was a man here, this afternoon. A terrifying man.'' She fought more tears. The ringlets in her hair bobbing up and down as she shook her head in disbelief. ''He asked me to pay him thirty thousand pounds.''

  ''For what,'' he said in his courtroom voice, his hand flicking across his large hooked nose. Something he did when he didn't believe what he was being told.

  ''Listen, Bartholomew, please don't let this get out.'' He nodded. ''The man said that Peter had asked him to kill someone and that he hadn't paid him for doing so.''

  Bartholomew raised his eyebrows. This was graver than he had expected. ''For murdering who, exactly?''

  ''He didn't tell me.''

  ''Did he carry out Peter's request?''

  ''I asked him that too. He said no. He told me Peter had promised to pay him in advance.''

  ''Why didn't you tell him to call off the deed and go away.''

  ''I did, sort of. But he threatened me. He's going to reveal the details to society if I don't pay.''

  ''Scoundrel. You should have married me, Adele. When you had the chance. Why didn't you?''

  She wanted to tell him the reason. The real reason. Because I think you are conceited, pompous and ugly. But she needed him to help her. ''It's a long time ago.''

  ''But I loved you. You turned me down in a brutal, frank, manner.''

  ''Bartholomew, please. I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But we can't go back. What good is it dragging up the past?''

  He nodded. ''But I told you Peter was a good for nothing.''

  ''What do you propose I do?'' she said, trying to drive him in another direction.

  ''Tell the police,'' he said, simply. Was that all he could come up with, she thought? A barrister, in the most important court in the land, and all he could tell her was something a child could have come up with.

  ''But it will become common knowledge if I do that.''

  ''Yes, most likely it will.''

  He wasn't helping at all. ''Then I will pay him. I don't want Peter's good name to be dragged through the mud, and I certainly don't want to be cast from society, I have nothing else.''

  ''Those are your choices. Either tell the police or pay him. But if you pay him you will become an accessory to murder.'' Adele hadn't thought of that. So I face prison for murder, or being cast out of society into a life of shame, she concluded, and there was nothing Bartholomew Pimms could do to help her.

  *****

  Nicholas Geraghty lay in bed and glanced at Georgina. She was his most beautiful conquest of the year so far, and there had been many. He stroked her naked back as she lay face down. She was still fast asleep. Nicholas was a demanding lover, and he'd totally exhausted her. She groaned as his hand slid down her back, onto her buttocks. Just as his hand was about to slip somewhere indelicate, there was a loud knock at the door. He jumped out of bed and covered himself in a dressing gown. He opened the door slightly; it was the butler, Manningham.

  ''Sir, Earl Geraghty has asked me to tell you he expects you in his study in ten minutes.'' Manningham knew Nicholas had a woman in his bedroom. He usually threw the door wide open when he knocked, but opening it just slightly was a sign that he was hiding someone.

  ''Oh, how tiresome. What does he want?'' Nicholas swept his hand through his unkempt h
air.

  ''I'm afraid he didn't tell me what he wants to talk to you about sir.''

  He returned to bed and pulled the covers off Georgina, who felt a sudden rush of cold air and woke up. She rolled over, revealing herself to him. He was sorely tempted by her, but his father was fierce sometimes, and he wanted to avoid confrontation.

  ''Get dressed, you have to leave,'' he said.

  She looked insulted. She'd expected to be invited for breakfast, perhaps to meet his parents, and spend a lazy day, walking the gardens and getting to know him better. If she had known him better, she would have realized that he did this with every woman obliging enough to share his bed. He had sex with them and kicked them out of the house without further ado.

  After he's seen her down the rear staircase, he washed and dressed. He walked down the long landing and took the grand staircase to the entrance hall where his father's dogs were lying. One of them got up and walked with him to his father's study. His father was a fair man, long suffering. He knew his son had a heart of gold, but he was angry with him on this particular morning, very angry.

  Nicholas stood in front of his father's desk, his father seated behind it. He stood like a boy summoned to the headmaster's room after some terrible misdemeanor.

  ''Georgina Fletcher,'' his father said. ''Where is she?''

  ''I have no idea,'' Nicholas replied. Technically he didn't know where she was, exactly. But he did know her whereabouts, in a carriage he had provided, on her way home.

  ''Don't give me that. You know darn well where she is. She's in your bedroom.''

  ''No father, she is not.'' He tried not to grin.

  ''Well, she was a few moments ago.''

  Should I deny it, Nicholas thought. It had never worked before. ''Yes, she spent the night with me.''

  He had never seen his father so angry before. ''Do you know who she is?'' he snarled. His gray hair flopped over his forehead as he looked down at his clenched fists.

  ''Er.......not exactly......she's.''

  ''She's the daughter of Lord Fletcher of Banbury.''

  The name meant nothing to Nicholas. “Who's that?''

  ''Who's that?'' his father mocked. ''He's in charge of the police. The most powerful man in the bloody country.'' He didn't often swear. ''And you had to bed his daughter,'' Nicholas noted his father's white knuckles. ''Do you know how awkward this is?''

  Nicholas shook his head. In reality, he didn't care. He'd had his fun with Georgina. She'd been good in bed, remarkably good. One of the best ever.

  ''You use women. You think they are here to serve your seemingly insatiable sexual appetite,'' his father said. Nicholas wanted to nod because that's exactly what he though the role of women was in society. He'd once shocked a friend by telling him that the only place he wanted to see women was in his bed with their legs open. ''Her father has demanded an apology. Her mother was out of her mind with worry when she didn't come home with the others. You will travel to Lord Fletcher's office, go down on your knees and beg his forgiveness. Do you understand?''

  Nicholas nodded reluctantly and turned away to leave the room. ''I haven't finished with you yet,'' his father shouted. ''This really is the limit. I want you to marry, and stop this ridiculous behavior. So here is what I propose: you will find a wife within the next six months, or I will disinherit you, and your younger brother will inherit everything.''

  ''But......'' he realized it was no use, his father was already waving his hand for him to leave the room.

  *****

  The annual hunt ball was a grand affair. Peter had been a great enthusiast of the sport, and he and Adele had attended each year. The President of the Banbury Fox Hounds had invited Adele this year as well, in Peter's memory. She hadn't wanted to go, she was happy at home, but she'd felt obliged. She knew a lot of the members and didn't' want to appear ungrateful for all their support after Peter had died. Held in the ballroom at Greenfield Castle close to Banbury, it was attended by over three hundred people, including Nicholas.

  When his carriage dropped him off at the Castle, he was in the company of David Henderson. They had been to Eton together, and apart from when Nicholas was pestering women, they were inseparable. Nicholas cast his blue eyes around the ballroom, looking for more prey. David noticed and recognized that look.

  ''I thought your father had told you not to,'' David said inquisitively.

  Nicholas stroked his chin and pursed his lips. ''He did, but it's so tempting. Look at all these angels, just look at them,'' his hand made a sweeping gesture as if he was spreading seed in a field. ''It's more than any man can bear.''

  ''Stop your philandering and find a wife, it's serious. Do you want to be disinherited?''

  ''No, of course not. But I don't want to marry either. Outside the bedroom, women are insufferable, and I'll only marry when I really need an heir, not before.''

  ''Then you will be poor,'' David said in a matter of fact way.

  He's right, Nicholas thought. I have no choice. Contemplating the end of his carefree days was more than he could bear. He cursed his father and followed David to the bar where they downed two glasses of champagne rapidly.

  ''I'm Nicholas Gerathy,'' he said putting out his hand to the woman next to him.

  ''Adele Vaughan,'' she replied. He looked at her. Even more beautiful than Georgina, he decided. He liked delicate women with a large bust. He peered into her blue eyes and saw pain.

  ''Are you alright?'' he asked.

  He was handsome she thought, dark hair and a strong face with green eyes and a white smile, he looked healthy and fun to be with. But she'd seen men like him before. He was a womanizer, of that there was no doubt. ''What business is it of yours?'' It was harsh, but her life was in turmoil, and the last thing she wanted was an evening with such a man.

  Nicholas was taken aback. No woman had ever spoken to him like that before. ''I'm sorry if I have offended you.''

  ''You have. You addressed me without introduction, and what makes you think there is anything wrong with me? And what made you think you can be so forward with me?''

  ''Forward? I am forward when I want to be and with whom I want.'' Nicholas was irritated by her. Beautiful she may be, but just a woman.

  ''No, tell me. Why do you think there is anything the matter with me?''

  ''If you must know, your eyes look sad.''

  ''Oh, my eyes, indeed,'' she spoke sarcastically. ''Do you always look so intrusively into a lady's eyes on first meeting them?''

  ''Miss Vaughan, I really don't know what to say.''

  ''Mrs.''

  ''What?''

  ''I am Lady Vaughan, not Miss. Do I look like an unmarried woman?''

  Nicholas was beginning to wish he'd stayed away from the ball. He looked jealously across at David, who'd drifted over the room to talk to a beautiful young woman in a pink dress. ''I am not sure if it is possible to see by merely looking at a woman, whether she is married or not,'' he offered. Adele turned her back to him and struck up a conversation with the old man next to her.

  “She's the most irritating woman I have ever encountered,'' he told David. ''Do you know who she is?''

  ''Adele Vaughan. Her husband was killed during a hunt some time ago,'' the young woman in pink said.

  ''This is Miss Julia Leatham,'' David said, by way of introduction. Nicholas bowed, and she curtsied.

  ''A very irritating woman. More irritating than I have ever encountered,'' he said, thrusting his hand into his cutaway coat.

  ''Pleas sir, you put me in a very difficult situation,'' Julia said, putting a hand to her cheek in shock.

  ''I apologize. Perhaps you would tell me why you feel disadvantaged?'' Nicholas asked.

  ''She is my eldest sister's, best friend. My sister is called Eleanor Pimms.''

  ''Ah. I'm sorry for embarrassing you. What is she really like?'' He had to shout over the orchestra now; they had started the first dance of the evening. ''I can't believe she is always so sensitive.''

  ''Whene
ver I have spoken to her, she has been most agreeable. Perhaps the manner in which you spoke to her was deficient.''

  Deficient, me, he thought. ''Perhaps. But she is a most interesting woman.'' He meant her looks.

  ''If sir, you have any intentions toward her, I would advise you to turn them to another woman,'' Julia said.

  ''Why?''

  ''She doesn't want to have another man in her life.'' Julia took a fan out of her bag and wafted it around in front of her face. ''My sister told me. They discussed it at her husband's funeral. She's adamant she wants to enjoy her freedom, without male interference.''

  ''Indeed, interesting,'' he said, his eyes floating in Adele's direction again. With her hair pinned up and a tiara on her head, she looked regal. He loved the shape of her neck, suddenly wanting to run his fingers over it's delicate contours.

  ''David, go to her and tell her I'm sorry.''

  ''What?'' David pulled his head back in surprise.

  ''Go to Lady Vaughan and tell her I am sorry. Ask her if I may approach her again.''

  ''Heavens, Nicholas, can't you do that yourself?'' David said.

  ''No, I can't. I don't think she will entertain speaking to me. Go and tell her I am extremely sorry.''

  David reluctantly wandered across the room. ''Lady Vaughan, please excuse me. I am a friend of the man your were just speaking to, Mr. Nicholas Geragthy'' He became nervous when he noticed the expression of indifference on her face. ''He has asked me to tell you he is sorry for his behavior. Very sorry.''

  Adele was beginning to find the whole evening quite tiresome. It reminded her of Peter, and now this with Mr. Geragthy ''Can't Mr. Geragthy come and apologize?''

  ''He thought you would not speak to him.''

  ''Tell me about him. Who is he?''

  ''Mr. Geragthy is my best friend.'' David was careful not to say too much about Nicholas's view on women. ''He's the heir to the Earl of Borrowby.'' Adele listened more intently now. The Earl of Borrowby was one of the richest men in the country.