The Three Evesham Daughters: Books 1-3: A Regency Romance Trilogy

by Audrey Ashwood

  There was the letter that was probably in the hands of the man who called himself ‘the priest.’ There was the person, who had tried to blackmail her and had not contacted her a second time, which made her even more nervous than a new message would. And there was the fear that her unfortunate involvement in the viscount’s death may somehow come to light and ruin her little sister’s future prospects.

  The last thing she needed was the added worry of Lord Layton courting her.

  Chapter 8

  “It is only a ride through Hyde Park!” Luke chased Branwell away with an impatient wave and readjusted his lapels himself. “Her mother will be present. Do not make such a big fuss about it!” His half-brother’s laugh became louder, and even Branwell had to turn away to hide his treacherous grin from his master.

  “And I was always under the impression that my big brother knew more about women than I did,” John commented and playfully punched him on his upper arm. “If you still do not know that you should treat every woman like a princess, regardless of whether she is a flower girl or the daughter of a duke, then I question where you have lived.”

  Luke grabbed his gloves and then his cane, and for a moment, he contemplated giving John a warning blow.

  “I already told you during lunch, and I shall repeat myself once again – this excursion does not mean anything. I am just being polite, nothing more. If this short trip means I will gain a few quiet days from my father’s insistence on an heir, then all the better.” Luke avoided looking at his desk, where the letter was still stored. Last night he had held it in his hand for a long time, trying to come up with an inconspicuous plan to get it back to Lady Felicity, without embarrassing her, and without having to reveal his secret. The simplest solution would be if she confided in him, however, that was unlikely. Her mother’s presence (or that of any other chaperone) during today’s outing in Hyde Park was inevitable, but he still planned to try to speak with Lady Felicity. Maybe an opportunity would present itself to him, where he could give her the letter with a few explanatory words. Luke did not believe that this would happen, but he wanted to leave no stone unturned.

  “Did you send flowers to the lady?” John inquired, as if Luke had not just loudly announced to all of them that he was not interested in the lady.

  “No,” he replied and glanced at the little grandfather clock on the mantelpiece. He was expected within the hour. “As I have already said…”

  “Luke, you are a fool,” John now said with a genuine rush of anger. There was a snort from Branwell, which turned into a coughing fit under Luke’s threatening gaze. “I do not know what game you’re playing with Lady Felicity but let me tell you something: she is a smart young woman and exceptionally pretty. You should not play with her heart, nor should you get on her wrong side. Once the two of you are married, she will complain that you did not court her properly. She can make your life heaven… or hell, old boy.”

  Well, they would never step before the altar, but he could hardly tell that to his brother.

  “You should give her a present. It will cost you little,” John continued relentlessly. “A bouquet of flowers is sufficient in the beginning. Every lady loves to receive flowers. Then you find out what she is interested in – and I am not talking about the humdrum things such as pressing flowers and the pianoforte. Does she like literature? I could arrange a visit with Lord Byron. Does she love the opera? Then show her what it looks like behind the curtain. Perhaps I could even introduce you to Julia Scarlatti, the most divine soprano singer…”

  “That. Is. Enough.” Luke prodded each word one at a time between clenched teeth. “I know how to court a woman and certainly do not need your help.” He spun around and stared at John, who was casually lounging on his bed. “Besides, a visit to the city’s most depraved poet or the acquaintance of a singer, is certainly not for a young lady like her.”

  “I hope you do not deceive yourself in this regard,” John said calmly. Branwell had fled the room and busied himself next door. “There is a freedom-loving spirit inside of her, I can feel it. Surprise her, indulge her, and she will love you forever… even if you make a mistake… or two.” The clock sounded for the half hour.

  “I must go,” Luke said. He would instruct the coachman to take his time and perhaps circle around Hanover Square if it were too early. Anyone who saw him would take it for the impatience of a lover that had driven him to her house too soon. The played superiority of his brother was beginning to wear on his nerves, and for today, he had had enough of John’s advice.

  “You look beautiful, Lady Felicity,” Lord Layton told her as he helped her into his barouche. Involuntarily, she peered up into his face but found nothing but sincerity in it. That seemed, to say the least, strange. Except for the carriage driver and Brigid, nobody else was close enough to hear the compliment, so why had he bothered to say anything? “Please sit here. I have arranged for a blanket to be put inside. It may be a bit chilly in the open vehicle, but I assumed that a ride through the park in an enclosed coach would certainly not be to your liking.”

  “Thank you,” Felicity replied a little stiffly, as she watched Brigid take her seat next to the driver. It was pleasantly warm under the fur blanket, but she did not like the fact that an animal had lost its life for her comfort. Besides, she would have liked to have had her maid closer. But when she saw the young woman’s excited eyes, as she looked around her curiously, she could not bring herself to ban her to the inside of the carriage.

  Felicity turned towards Lord Layton. “You do not have to be friendly to me.” The words just burst out of her. “We both know that this” – Her gesture included the coach as well as the two of them – “is a farce and that you have no interest in marrying me.” The driver clicked his tongue and the horses began to move. She should just lean back and enjoy the ride, Felicity thought. Her mother had excused herself due to suffering from vapours, and her father had plainly forced her to keep her appointment with Lord Layton, regardless. At first, she had been rather surprised that he allowed her to go, but then she had become sad. Did her parents really care to rid themselves of her that much? The only good thing was that Felicity was now… not free, but less restricted than she would have been in the presence of her parents.

  Lord Layton’s head turned towards her and he looked at her with a strange expression on his face. “You must really have a very bad opinion of me, Lady Felicity.”

  Secretly, Felicity wondered, if he was suffering from temporary memory loss. How could she not have a bad opinion of him, after he had acted like a self-righteous upholder of moral standards in the last year, despite the fact that they were not even close to each other. Well, he had been right in the end, but it did not justify the conceited, autocratic manner in which Lord Layton had spoken to her. More precisely, how he had spoken over her. It had been a pretty one-sided conversation.

  “Perhaps, first of all, we should clear up some misunderstandings between us,” Lord Layton suggested. It was only just after four o’clock in the afternoon, but the sun had already lost its warmth. There was a slight hint of snow in the air. Felicity noticed that his high cheekbones were getting a touch of colour that suited him well, and his blue eyes seemed to shine more brightly than they had the night before. Maybe, it was because of his dark-blue spencer, which suited his short blonde hair well, or… her imagination was running wild.

  “If you are referring to our conversation from a year ago, then there is no reason to discuss it further, I can assure you,” she replied. Another thought shot through her head, and it caused a whirlwind of conflicting feelings inside Felicity’s chest. What would she say to him, if he demanded to know what her connection to the viscount had been? She certainly thought him capable of gloating at her discomfort, regardless of how friendly he was pretending to be today.

  “You will never let me forget that my advice was not welcome back then, am I right?” The blue in his eyes darkened, and it had nothing to do with the fading sunlight.

/>   “No, I suppose not,” Felicity said and held her hand in front of her mouth. How could she be so careless! She had spoken out loud what she had been thinking! Lord Layton threw back his head and laughed. At first, she thought that he was laughing at her, but then he grabbed her hand beneath the blanket and squeezed it.

  “All right, I will not repeat myself a hundred times about how much I regret my pretension, even though the warning was only well intentioned.”

  Felicity felt her cheeks blushing. She looked awkwardly aside and withdrew her fingers from his. “Then let’s agree to do one thing right now, and that is to enjoy the ride.”

  He leaned backwards and nodded towards a couple, whom Felicity recognised as Lord and Lady Rotherfield. Felicity had almost hidden behind Lord Layton’s broad back, but then she remembered there was no reason to do so. This was different from her secret meetings with Greywood. She straightened her shoulders and presented the sour-looking Lady Rotherfield with her brightest smile.

  “That is better,” Lord Layton murmured beside her. “What would you think if we drove along the Serpentine River? It is not as busy as it is here, and the views are more beautiful.”

  “As you please,” Felicity replied politely, even though her heart sank when she saw one of her old friends. Lady Lenore caught her eye at the very same moment as Felicity looked at her, and she laughed at something that the Earl of Cunningham’s son had just said to her. Judging by his stunned facial expression, he had not said anything particularly witty and was taken aback by the lady’s reaction. Lenore’s mother, on the other hand, only needed a moment to realise why her daughter had suddenly pretended to be so extremely cheerful, and she made to turn her head away from Felicity. When she saw who the former rival of her daughter was sitting next to, she decided otherwise and raised her hand in a greeting.

  “Smile, Felicity,” Lord Layton remarked and pulled her hand out from underneath the blanket. He held it against his lips and looked straight into her face. “Do not allow these two people the satisfaction of upsetting you.” Felicity did as she was told, however, when her smile turned into a real one, it was not aimed at the two women, but at him. It was not until they passed Grosvenor Gate that she realised he had addressed her by her first name, as if they were old acquaintances or friends even.

  Her heart jumped painfully inside her chest. Could she trust him?

  But his next words ruined everything.

  “Tell me what happened back then with Viscount Greywood.”

  Chapter 9

  Dammit, dammit, triple dammit! He had been so close to gaining her trust, but then he had destroyed it all because of his own impatience! Why had he not been able to simply hold back? Felicity was like an untamed foal, or more like an animal that had been beaten by its previous owner, although he was certain that she would not have approved of this comparison. She was one big bundle of contradictions, smart and confident one minute, shy and fearful the next. He still had not managed to find the opportunity to hand her back the compromising letter without frightening her, or without making her parents realise it. He was not familiar enough with the servants in the Duke of Evesham’s household to be able to bribe one of them and have the letter smuggled back into her private chambers – and even if he was, she would quickly find out that he had initiated it. No, no, no.

  “What is wrong with you? Was the excursion in the park not a success? I told you to take flowers with you.” John interrupted his thoughts.

  Luke spun around on his heels and grabbed John by his lapels. “I have had enough of your clever bits of advice, brother,” he said and quickly let go of John before he completely forgot himself.

  “So, I assume that it went wrong, whatever you were up to,” his brother determined. When Luke recognised the expression of empathy on the man’s face, he took a step back. This feeling was the last thing he needed right now! If only he could have stepped into the ring tonight and not in two weeks’ time!

  “This girl has truly gotten under your skin,” his brother said.

  “Nonsense,” Luke rejected his remark. “She irritates me like an insect humming in the bedroom at night, preventing me from falling asleep… nothing more.”

  John waved his hand at his reply. “You are clearly deceiving yourself, my friend. But if you prefer it this way, be my guest. I will not stop you from continuing to poke your head in the sand.” John paused for a moment. “If I can help you in any way, just tell me. I cannot shake the feeling that the connection between you and the lady is more than just a romance.”

  “It is complicated,” Luke replied evasively. The restlessness in his mind had begun to take over his body. It was almost the same feeling as it had been before his first battle as a naval officer. He had had no idea what to expect, nor whether he would survive that day or not. Granted, it was not half as dramatic, and maybe he was exaggerating, but if he were to spend the rest of the evening at home trying to read or to sleep, he would lose his mind. He needed a challenge, or at the very least, some exercise – anything that would clear his head so that he could think normally again. Then again, none of his dealings with Lady Felicity could have been described as normal. Under the influence of this young lady, even he turned into a man who made his decisions based on his gut feelings, rather than on reason.

  “Ah, you are still able to smile,” his brother remarked dryly, and slapped his shoulder. Luke quickly averted his face. Had the mere thought of Felicity really caused him to smile?

  After all, his brother was not so bad, even though he was sometimes quite exhausting in his bluntness. Besides, Luke did not know any other man who could compete with John in stubbornness. Once he had set his mind to something, nothing could stop him. John was also extremely courageous and loyal. Luke had to admit that he would have liked his brother as his ally, but he hesitated. It was not his place to pass on the lady’s secret. But there was one thing he was able to share with his brother, and that was his well-protected secret identity as ‘the priest.’

  “Do you have plans for tonight, by any chance?” he asked.

  “I wanted to stop by the club to have a chat with…” John replied and raised his eyebrows with a questioning expression. “But I could always do that later. Why do you ask?”

  Luke did not accept his brother’s evasive answer and instead countered with another question. He grinned openly. “How about a trip into the dark centre of Whitechapel?”

  An hour later, both men exited the hackney and crossed the street towards the Black Heart. Even from a distance, they were able to hear the cheers, whistles, and shouts, as well as what sounded like breaking glass. John gave Luke a sceptical look. “Do you mean to tell me that you are regularly beaten up by random men, just for sheer fun?” He shook his head as if unable to believe what Luke had told him on the way to one of the city’s most disreputable neighbourhoods.

  “Is it so hard to believe?” Luke stopped in his tracks before peeking through the iced-over windowpanes. “I do not get beaten up, I box. That is something else entirely. There are rules for the fight, and everybody has to adhere to them. At least in theory,” he admitted. “And yes, I find it quite entertaining. It helps me to remain grounded, if you know what I mean.”

  “I think I do.”

  Luke turned around. “We will have to separate for a moment. I will use the back entrance and will ask Marlowe if he is willing to let me fight. You go and mingle in with the guests. Enjoy yourself.”

  He was just about to turn into the alley that led to the back door when something else occurred to him. “If I catch you betting even one dime against me, I promise you, I will have you as my next opponent!” He heard John’s laughter before it was swallowed by the noise inside the tavern.

  Marlowe was pleasantly surprised when ‘the priest’ had knocked at his back door, asking to get into the ring that night. Just as Luke had anticipated, there was no objection from the host’s side. On the contrary, he said that this unannounced fight was the best way to promote an
even more popular, upcoming one in fourteen days’ time.

  “I might be able to charge an entrance fee, as they do in the theatre,” he pondered loudly and waved Luke through to the back room. Luke was only listening with half an ear. The only thing that interested him at that moment was, getting rid of his bottled-up turmoil.

  A good hour later, he was pummelling his second opponent of the evening with some well-placed punches. The man who faced him with his rolled-up shirtsleeves, was the Earl of Roxbury – an arrogant fool, who fancied himself in the role of a wild man. The earl had commented on ‘the priest’s’ first fight from the front row with snarky remarks that even Luke had been able to hear. At some point, Luke had had enough of it. He had stopped playing with his opponent and had sent him quickly and mercilessly to the floor. Then he had walked over to the earl and asked him whether he was only a loud-mouthed windbag, or if he was just stupid. The earl’s pale face (with an absurd hair growth on his upper lip – too silly to be described as a moustache) had reddened. “I will not fight anybody who does not follow Jackson’s rules.”

  “No kicking. No biting. No hair pulling.” Luke recited the rules, his gaze lingering demonstratively on the shoulder-long curls of the vain earl. One of his friends, who stood right beside him, put his hand reassuringly on the earl’s shoulder, but Luke already knew that he had won. He caught John’s eye. His brother was watching him from a little further back, shaking his head in warning, but it was too late. The Earl of Roxbury took off his spencer, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and danced a little bit from side to side, probably to warm up. It reminded Luke of a peacock spreading its tail feathers. Then it began.

  Luke could easily have ended the fight rather quickly, however, after the first few testing punches, which let him assess his opponent’s strengths and weaknesses, the earl forced him to change his tactics. The man was not the best boxer and he lacked manoeuvrability and the ability to think ahead, but he was not stupid. As soon as Luke came close enough to serve him a punch straight into his midsection, the arrogant peacock did nothing to protect his body. Instead, he reached up with both his hands and tugged at the cloth that covered Luke’s face. Luke barely managed to jump out of reach and to readjust the fabric before it could slide completely off. He could see a triumphant glint in his opponent’s features. Luke cursed silently, but it was too late. He had revealed his biggest weakness to his rival. Now, he had only one option – to end the fight as quickly as possible, with no regard for Marlowe, who expected a drawn-out spectacle, or for the spectators, who would certainly be disappointed. Since the Earl of Roxbury was half a foot shorter than he was, Luke had the advantage of a longer reach, and he believed he could knock his opponent out with a single well-placed strike.