Someone to Love

by Cheryl Holt

  Mr. Falcon was little more than a criminal. He’d spent his life around circus performers, actors, and other dubious people. He was worldly and flamboyant and much too sophisticated for Penny. What scheme was he hatching? Had he asked her for money? Had she promised to give him some? Or might he have sought other favors? What might they be?

  The answers to those questions were terrifying.

  Suddenly, Mr. Falcon leaned down and kissed Penny. Right on the lips! Right in the garden where there could be witnesses! Then Penny grinned and sauntered toward the house.

  Millicent gasped with dismay and lurched away from the window so Penny wouldn’t glance up and see her spying. She braced herself against the wall, her pulse pounding, her temper flaring to an even hotter temperature.

  Libby Carstairs had burst into their lives with her horrid seamstress and her devious cousin. Could Millicent stand idly by and let the trio wreck Millicent’s bucolic existence? Could she rely on Charles to take charge and handle them?

  No, she could not.

  Drastic measures were required, and she had to figure out what they should be, then implement them in the quickest manner she could devise.

  In the end, Charles would be glad she’d assisted him. She would free him from the machinations of the brazen pests, and he would be grateful for her intervention on his behalf. Perhaps once she’d imposed all the punishments they deserved, he would finally realize how much he cared.

  “I think my heart is broken.”

  “It’s the normal conclusion to a love affair with an aristocrat.”

  Libby glared at Fish. “I don’t need philosophy from you. I just need you to commiserate for once.”

  Fish shrugged. “Lord Barrett is a rich, handsome scoundrel who would never have fallen in love or married you, but you involved yourself anyway. In a situation like that, heartbreak is the only option.”

  They were in London, in the front parlor of their rented home. They were licking their wounds and not yet ready to figure out their next steps. They’d been too battered by their experiences at Roland.

  “What about you?” Libby asked. “Is your heart broken?”

  “By Charles Pendleton? Are you joking? I let him torment me when I was twenty. I’m smarter now.”

  “Really? You’re not devastated by his tossing you over?”

  “I’m feeling a tad low,” Fish confessed, “but it will pass.”

  Libby scoffed. “You’re such a liar. You’re as forlorn as I am.”

  “I won’t admit that you’re correct.”

  “I hate him!” Libby fumed.

  “Who? Charles? He’s your father. You can’t hate him.”

  They’d been back for four days, and they were like lost puppies who couldn’t find their mother. The house seemed particularly empty, the rooms echoing in a way that underscored their misery. They’d always worked for a living, and it was odd to be loafing, to have no evening show to occupy their hours with preparation.

  They jumped at every sound, expecting it to be Simon returning from Roland or perhaps Luke or Charles rushing to apologize. They were wallowing in the same fantasy: that the two men would realize how horridly they’d behaved, and they’d be anxious to proclaim how profoundly sorry they were.

  But that type of ending only happened in fairytales, and this was real life. If Libby had to guess, she’d predict that both men had come to their senses and were delighted to have had the liaisons terminate with so little fuss.

  “Maybe I don’t hate Charles,” Libby said. “Maybe I merely loathe him to the marrow of my bones.”

  “He’s complicated. He’s persnickety about status and class, but deep down, he’s kind, and he worries about how he’s viewed by others. He constantly tries to do the right thing.”

  “You couldn’t prove it by me.”

  Libby was aggrieved over how she’d been evicted. Luke wasn’t a gullible boy. He’d leapt into their amour, but she had been blamed for it.

  She was aggrieved too over how Charles and Luke hadn’t believed her about her parentage. She comprehended Charles’s reluctance to instantly accept her story, but she’d assumed Luke knew what sort of character she possessed. How could he doubt her?

  Where was he at that very moment? Was he still at Roland and ingratiating himself to Penny? Was he about to propose? Would Libby pick up the newspaper some morning and read their engagement announcement? The whole scenario left her sick at her stomach.

  The box of Harry’s letters was on the table between them, and Fish gestured to it. “I’m stunned by how Harry kept your past a secret. He was such a conniver—and a talker too. How could he have swallowed down this information for so many years? If I had to bet, I’d wager that he’d have blabbed simply so he could be the center of attention when the gossip spread.”

  “His brother, Kit, insisted Charles was violent, so Harry must have been protecting me.”

  “Harry—being altruistic? Don’t be daft.”

  “It’s not entirely beyond the realm of possibilities.”

  “Yes, it is,” Fish said. “The more likely scenario is that—if he’d come forward—Charles would have yanked you away from him, and he’d have had to surrender the income you generated. If he’d lost yours, he’d have had to generate some of his own, and he was too lazy to support himself. You were his breadwinner.”

  Libby smirked. “That explanation is probably the closest we’ll ever get to a valid answer.”

  A carriage rattled to a stop out on the street, and they perked up, hoping it would be Simon. They figured he’d tarried at Roland, but if he hadn’t, they had no idea where he might be. They were beginning to fret.

  Libby went to the window to peer outside, watching as several officious-looking men emerged from the vehicle. They milled and muttered, assessing her house as if they were about to throw her out of it.

  “Is it Simon?” Fish asked.

  “No. It’s a group of men in uniform, but I don’t know any of them.”

  She never liked to have strange men stroll in. It was an old fear, fueled by Harry and his wicked habits when she’d been a child. He’d always had creditors circling, so they’d had to brace for any catastrophe.

  Finally, one of the men marched up and banged the knocker. Libby frowned at Fish, wondering what new calamity was about to arise, then she walked over and pulled the door open.

  “Yes?” she said. “May I help you?”

  He gaped at her, temporarily tongue-tied, then he asked, “Miss Carstairs? Miss Libby Carstairs?”

  “Yes, I’m Miss Carstairs.”

  “I most humbly apologize, but I’m here to arrest you.”

  “Arrest me?” Libby cocked her head as if he’d misspoken.

  “Yes, Miss. For spreading lies about Lord Roland?”

  Libby gasped with affront. “Are you joking?”

  “It’s called slander. A common person such as yourself can’t defame such a top-lofty fellow. It’s not permitted.”

  Fish leapt to her feet, and she appeared mad as a hornet. “Charles is accusing her of slander?”

  “Are you Miss Fishburn?” was his reply. He flushed, as if he was embarrassed by his task.

  “Yes, I’m Fish.”

  “My apologies to you too, ma’am, but I have to arrest you along with Miss Carstairs.”

  “On what charge?” Fish demanded.

  “On stealing cufflinks from Lord Roland? Apparently, you were caught red-handed in his bedchamber.”

  Fish’s jaw dropped in astonishment as the other men barged in, and they looked much less civil. One of them blustered up and said, “Let’s go, ladies. We won’t brook any argument or delay.”

  “May I pack a bag?” Libby asked. “I should grab my reticule too, so I have plenty of money once we’re at the facility.”

  “Yes, you can fetch your
things,” the first man said, as the second man said, “No, you can’t pack anything.”

  The first man waved her to the stairs. “Fetch what you require, but don’t dawdle.”

  “I’m sure this is in error,” Libby insisted. “May I write a note to my cousin and have you mail it to him? He’ll post our bail, so there’s no need to take us into custody.”

  “You won’t be allowed any bail, Miss Carstairs. I’ve clarified the gravity of your crimes. You can’t commit a felony like this against a nobleman. You’ll be lucky if you don’t wind up hanged for it.”

  Libby blanched, but Fish glared and said, “If you stumble on Lord Roland before I do, tell him I will kill him for this. I will absolutely kill him!”

  “In light of your situation, Miss Fishburn,” the second man huffed, “you shouldn’t issue threats. It will only make matters worse for you.”

  “Who’s threatening?” Fish retorted. “I’m deadly serious. I will kill him when I next have the chance.”

  Fish stomped up the stairs, and as Libby followed, she sighed with disgust. She’d previously spent a night or two in jail. Harry hadn’t been all that honest, and whenever he’d been incarcerated, she’d been swept up with him as his ward.

  It wouldn’t kill her to be detained, but after she was released, she agreed with Fish. She definitely might kill Charles Pendleton.

  “Mr. Falcon? I would have a word with you.”

  Simon glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Millicent Pendleton had spoken to him, which was a bad sign. From the minute he’d arrived at Roland, she’d treated him as if he were invisible, but he hadn’t minded.

  She didn’t like him anymore than he liked her. She thought she was better than he was due to her having posh relatives like Lord Roland, but he deemed himself to be any man’s equal and never bowed down.

  He pasted on a smile and spun to face her. “Yes, Miss Pendleton, I would be delighted to chat.”

  “Please join me.”

  She was standing in the doorway to Lord Roland’s library, and she gestured into the ostentatious room. He couldn’t wait to hear her comments, and he’d already guessed what the topic would be.

  She sat behind the desk, and he sauntered in after her and plopped into the chair across. He kept his gaze locked on hers, and she struggled to appear very firm, but she wasn’t succeeding.

  Ultimately, when she began to fidget, he inquired, “Are we about to discuss my scorned cousin, Libby? Or will we talk about Penny?”

  She was taken aback that he’d blatantly toss out Penny’s name, but she quickly regrouped and straightened in her seat.

  “We shall discuss both young ladies,” she said.

  “Fine. What did you wish to tell me?”

  “Miss Carstairs has departed the premises, and it’s time for you to leave too. Immediately. I expect—when we’re finished—that you will pack your bags.”

  “I certainly will, Miss Pendleton.”

  His tone was incredibly sarcastic, and she bristled. “You think I can’t make you go?”

  “It’s always been difficult for women to make me do anything. I blame it on my horrid upbringing, but if you’re nice about it, I might oblige you.”

  “Your presence here is no longer necessary.”

  “Yes, I’m getting the general impression that I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He winked at her. “I’ll ask Penny for her opinion.”

  “You cheeky devil! You will not ask Penny, and it’s Lady Penny to you.”

  “She’s happy for us to be on more familiar terms than that.”

  He wasn’t normally so rude, but he just really didn’t like her, and he couldn’t abide such snobbery.

  “It’s come to my attention,” she said, “that you have become entirely too cordial with my niece.”

  “Yes, she and I are great chums.”

  “You’re a bit more than chums.”

  He grinned. “Maybe.”

  “Your scheme has been exposed, Mr. Falcon.”

  “What scheme is that?”

  “When you were plotting with Miss Carstairs as to how you would deceive Lord Roland, you were overheard by a housemaid. Your duplicitous conduct has been revealed, and your swindle has unraveled.”

  “What are you claiming? Speak in plain English, would you? I’ve never been clever enough to solve riddles.”

  “From your own devious mouth, we have learned that Miss Carstairs will step forward and pretend to be Lord Roland’s lost daughter, Little Henrietta. This very moment, she is being arrested in London, and I—”

  “Whoa! What did you say?”

  “Lord Roland is having her prosecuted for blackmail and slander. She’s already been jailed. You will be swept up too—unless you behave exactly as I bid you.”

  “What is it you think you can pressure me into doing?”

  She pulled a bag of coins out of a desk drawer, and she tossed it to him. “You are a confidence artist, Mr. Falcon, and you have glommed onto our family for nefarious purposes. I will not let you hurt Lord Roland, so I am willing to pay you so you’ll cease your torment. I’m sure that’s the ending you’ve been angling for all along.”

  “Oh, yes, I’ve definitely been hoping to blackmail you.”

  “You will take this money and depart Roland at once and forever. You will not confer with Lady Penny about it. Go now—before I summon the law and have you imprisoned too.”

  “I will go—as you’ve requested.” He grabbed the bag and stuck it into his coat.

  “You also have to sign a binding contract that states—in exchange for the compensation I’ve forked over—you will never mention Lord Roland or Little Henrietta ever again.”

  “I won’t ever mention them. I swear.”

  “Should you break your vow—which I’m positive you’ll consider—I will have the contract that proves you’re a fraud and a liar.”

  He’d suspected she was an idiot, and she’d just convinced him of it. For some bizarre reason, she assumed she could negotiate with a criminal, and the criminal would keep his word.

  She retrieved the document from the same drawer, and she placed it between them. She dipped a quill in the ink jar and asked, “Can you read and write?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s the great thing about England. Even a rogue like me can be educated.”

  “Is your full name Simon Falcon?”

  “No, it’s Simon Carstairs. Falcon is my stage name.”

  “I am not surprised by your subterfuge.”

  He stood, leaned over, and yanked the pen away from her. He grabbed the document and signed it with a grand flourish. Then he straightened and started out.

  Behind him, he could sense her stewing. He hadn’t groveled, so she’d be eager to hurl a few more insults, but he wasn’t about to listen. All he cared about was the fact that she’d handed over a small fortune, and if Libby had really been incarcerated, he’d post her bail with it.

  “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she called.

  He halted and glared at her. “Miss Pendleton, you shouldn’t attempt to coerce someone like me. You’re awfully bad at it, but thank you for the money. I’ll put it to good use.”

  He reached the door, and she sputtered with offense. “What do you mean? We have a deal! You’ve agreed to shut your mouth.”

  “I was lying,” he cockily said.

  He exited into the hall, and she shrieked, “Mr. Falcon! Get back here!”

  He marched to the foyer, and she ran after him, bellowing for him to stop. Servants and guests peeked out of parlors, curious to discover why there was such a ruckus.

  As luck would have it, Penny was coming down the stairs, and she frowned at him and asked, “What’s that noise? Who’s shouting?”

  Her aunt rushed up to Simon, and on observing Penny, she clasped his arm and tried to
drag him back to the library. He shook her away and told Penny, “Your aunt has bribed me to vanish.”

  Penny huffed with derision. “Aunt Millicent! You didn’t!”

  “You will not consort with him,” her aunt seethed. “I will not permit it, and when your father arrives home from town, you will learn your lesson about where you stand in this house!”

  Penny rolled her eyes and continued down to the foyer until she was next to Simon.

  “Ignore her,” Penny said.

  “I intend to, but get this. She informed me that your father has had Libby arrested for slandering him.”

  Penny scowled. “Father wouldn’t have done that.”

  “It’s what your aunt is claiming.”

  Penny whirled on Millicent. “You had Libby arrested, didn’t you? How dare you!”

  Millicent wasn’t cowed. “If Miss Carstairs is in trouble with the law, it is only what she deserves. After what she planned to do to your father, I hope she rots in Hell.”

  Millicent whipped away and retreated to the library, then Simon said, “I have to head to London immediately. I have to check the situation there.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “You’d better be.”

  “Beware of your aunt.”

  “I’m not afraid of her.”

  “You should be. She might lock you away so we can’t be together.”

  “I’d like to see her try.”

  “I’ll sneak in, but if you’ve disappeared, how will I find you?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” she said. “I will find you. Now go to Libby. If you need my assistance, send a messenger. I’ll come to town and aid you if I can.”

  “I’ll post her bail, and I’ll have her out like that.” He snapped his fingers, the sound echoing off the high ceiling. “I’ll use the bribe money your aunt gave me.”

  “Good, and I’ll pray you won’t encounter any difficulties.”

  “In the meantime, you should talk to your father. If he’s behind this, he might have to withdraw his complaint before any of it will calm down.”