“You rat!” Amelia leaped up and snapped her fan across the brigand’s face. Fredrick flinched, and seized her arm again. He forced her to stride with him toward the exit. Meanwhile, Timothy wore a dazed look, and pressed his fingers to his bleeding nose.
Amelia slapped Fredrick again, but the blond man’s meaty hand squeezed her arm harder, turning it white. Amelia cried out. Lucinda gasped. Suddenly, Timothy appeared out of nowhere and clipped Fredrick on the jaw.
With a snarl, Fredrick turned on him. Fear flashed across the younger man’s face. Fredrick swung for him, but Timothy side-stepped and clobbered Fredrick’s eye this time. Timothy punched him again and again, with amazing speed, and blood spurted out of Fredrick’s nose. Another punch made him double over with a moan of pain.
Men, including Riel, advanced on the fighting pair and pulled them apart. Fredrick, clearly the worse for wear, sagged on the arms of those who had rescued him. “You’ll pay!” he spat. The charge seemed to include everyone in the room. “I’ll call you out. I will kill you!”
“I’m better with a blade,” Timothy said, swiping his bloody mouth. Incredibly, he smiled. “Tell me the time and the place.”
Fredrick’s eyes narrowed, and his face turned a bilious purple. “Trash,” he spat at Amelia, and then, for some unknown reason his gaze fixed upon Lucinda. “Trash!” he screamed. Riel and the others dragged him to the door, and bodily threw him out.
Amelia rushed to Timothy. “Are you all right?”
The dance had stopped by now. One matron lay slumped on the floor in a dead faint.
“I’m fine,” Timothy said with a sheepish smile. “I’ll clean up. I must look a sight.”
“No.” Amelia raised a hand to his face, but quickly lowered it. “Thank you.”
Timothy disappeared in the direction of the washroom, and Lucinda joined Amelia at the wall.
“Timothy is your knight in shining armor!”
“Yes,” Amelia said softly.
Lucinda didn’t want to pry into her friend’s feelings. They might still be too new to share. Instead, she said, “I think he likes you.”
Amelia nodded. “It’s flattering.” Her cheeks flushed. “But he’s so young.”
“He’s grown up, and he’s filling out nicely,” Lucinda pointed out. “And think about this; perhaps in a year or two he’ll master his dancing, and his charm will attract all the girls. Best to lay the groundwork now, Amelia,” she advised with a small smile. “In case you might be interested later.”
Timothy reappeared with a clean face, and Amelia glanced at Lucinda, her eyes suddenly bright. “I might. I just might at that.”
* * * * *
Lucinda managed to avoid Riel until supper the next day. When she came down to request that another tray be sent to her room, she found her guardian in the kitchen speaking to the cook.
Lucinda silently waited for him to leave.
He turned to her. “I want you to dine with me this evening.”
Instead of arguing in front of the cook, she followed him into the dining room. There she stopped. “I would like to dine alone.”
“You are behaving like a child,” he said, pouring a glass of wine.
She frowned. “Better than a close-minded, dictatorial pirate.”
“I know you won’t believe me, Lucy, but I refused Jonathon with only your best interests in mind.”
“Tell me then, once and for all, why you hate him so. And leave out the part of him being a rake, if you please. That excuse has worn thin.”
“Sit with me, Lucy. Please.”
With a faint huff of a breath, she did as he asked, just in time for the first course to arrive. Both tucked into the succulent roasted asparagus and bread.
“You won’t answer me, will you?” she asked after a while, when he said nothing.
“I care about you, Lucy.”
The words felt like an unexpected punch to her heart. “You do?”
“You deserve an honorable man, and one devoted only to you.”
“Jonathon is devoted…”
“Jonathon cares only about himself.”
“You don’t know him! You’ve judged him from the first.”
“Do you truly want him, Lucy? Are you in love with him?”
The question caught her off guard. With that direct black gaze holding hers, as if able to read into her soul, Lucinda floundered. “I…I think he is a fine man. And certainly no one better has asked for my hand.”
Riel would never ask for her hand. If only he would.
“Do you love him?” he pressed.
Lucinda didn’t know what to say. She did not love Jonathon. She loved this recalcitrant man before her. But since he would never want her, she would have to settle for second best. “Would you change your mind if I did?”
He sipped his wine. “Perhaps.”
Lucinda felt a sick flare of victory. “Well, know this. I care about him, and I want to marry him.”
A loud noise suddenly pounded from the front of the house.
Riel immediately strode from the dining room. Lucinda followed, after wiping her mouth with her napkin.
George swung open the door to reveal Jonathon. Fury flashed when Jonathon’s gaze landed upon Riel. “Montclair,” he gritted through bared teeth. “I would like a word with you.”
Riel stiffened, and for one second Lucinda tasted his fear; an emotion she’d never sensed in him before. The next moment, it vanished. “Of course. In my study.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lucinda paced the hall, biting her lip. She could hear nothing. She’d tried to press her ear to the door, but had heard only a low rumble of hard, unfriendly voices.
Unexpectedly, the door wrenched open and Jonathon stalked out. “I will tell all of London,” he snarled over his shoulder.
Riel appeared in the doorway. His tanned face looked pale. “Tell whomever you wish. It’s old business, and settled long ago.”
Jonathon whirled on him. “I will tell Lucinda.”
If possible, Riel grew paler still, and his hand clenched the door frame. “Tell her,” he said in a low, rough voice.
“I will.” Jonathon turned to her.
Lucinda’s gaze flickered between them. A horrible, sick feeling swelled within her. All of a sudden, she did not want to hear what Jonathon had to say.
She licked her lips. “Wait. I do not…”
Jonathon gripped her arm. It hurt. “You must listen. You must learn what manner of man your guardian is. Then you can decide if he’s worthy of your respect.”
“You’re hurting me,” Lucinda said faintly.
“Sorry.” Jonathon removed his hand. “But the truth must be aired now.” His green eyes looked like frozen chips of ice. The hostile glance he sent Riel glittered with cruel triumph.
Riel stood like a statue in the doorway. He said nothing to discourage Jonathon’s proclamations.
Lucinda didn’t want to know what Jonathon was talking about, and yet she had to know. If Jonathon knew an important truth about Riel—important enough that he insist she listen—shouldn’t she discover what it was?
With apprehension, she said, “What…what is it, then?”
“Perhaps you should sit down.”
“No.” Lucinda’s mouth felt dry. “Tell me now, please.”
“Very well.” Jonathon glanced at Riel, but made no effort to hide the anger and the glee in that one hard look. “I’ve said several times that I thought I remembered Montclair. I could not remember from where, though, for the life of me. And then, last night, after watching that brawl between Fredrick and Fenwick over Amelia, the feeling became stronger. This afternoon, after a short nap, the memory finally snapped free. I saw him thirteen years ago in Tangier, Morocco. Aboard the British Naval frigate, HMS Endurance.”
Lucinda glanced at Riel. “I didn’t know you were in the Navy.”
“He wasn’t,” Jonathon interjected. “He was on trial, and my father was the judge. I came with him to
work that day. I heard the charges against Montclair, and he confessed to his crime. Murder.”
Lucinda’s mouth fell open. “Murder! No.”
“Yes. He killed a man and he should have swung. Some pansy Captain of the Royal Navy took pity on him and got him off, more’s the pity. Captain…”
“Hastings,” Riel said quietly.
Lucinda’s gaze shot to his. “Father set you free?”
“I didn’t deserve freedom.”
“So it’s true?”
“Yes,” he said flatly.
She couldn’t believe it. She staggered back a step. Instantly, Jonathon cupped her elbow and led her to a nearby bench.
Lucinda, however, could not remove her eyes from Riel. “You murdered someone?”
He said nothing; just watched her, his face devoid of expression.
“You killed someone,” she whispered. Lucinda’s world began to crumble. The stones of their relationship, so carefully built, collapsed about her, one after another. Trust in Riel. Respect. Hero worship, from time to time. Love.
A sob choked her throat. From the beginning, she had suspected he harbored a dark secret. But she’d had no idea how dark or depraved it could be.
Riel was not the man he pretended to be. He never had been. She’d fallen in love with a murderer. A murderer!
She averted her face, unable to look at him.
“I would like a word with Lucinda,” Jonathon shot over his shoulder, and knelt beside her.
Riel remained where he was, as if frozen to the spot, and said nothing at all. He appeared to be in a state of shock.
“Lucinda.” Jonathon wiped at her tears. “Lucinda, listen to me. See the manner of man your guardian is? He says he wants to protect you from me, but perhaps it is you who needs protection from him.”
Lucinda bit her lip, trying to control her shuddering breaths.
Softly, Jonathon said, “I know this is a shock to you, but listen, you don’t have to remain under his authority. I will rescue you. If you’ll give me your hand in marriage, I will be a devoted husband. You will not regret marrying me for one single day.”
But how could she? Nothing had changed. Riel was still her legal guardian, and he’d forbidden the marriage. Or did Jonathon want her to run away with him?
“I…I do care for you, Jonathon.” But she did not love him. She loved a certain raven-haired pirate. A murderer. Again, the devastation of it ripped through her. What a fool. What a fool she was! She’d known from the beginning he’d hidden something from her. Yet she’d turned a blind eye to this truth. She’d believed she had been wrong.
And yet she’d been right all along.
The last tiny, illogical hope that she’d nurtured, deep in her heart, that maybe, someday, Riel might want her, vanished. Riel was a murderer. A criminal. And completely unacceptable as a husband.
Anguish suffocated the breath from her lungs. She could never marry him. Never.
More tangled thoughts tumbled through Lucinda’s head. She had to get him out of her life, and at once. Not only because he was a murderer, but because she loved him. She couldn’t spend another minute with him, or her heart would break, more deeply and painfully every day. So she must marry immediately, so he’d leave immediately. And Jonathon seemed as good a choice for a husband as any.
Jonathan said in a low voice, “Are you all right, Lucinda?”
“Yes.” She drew a shaky breath. “I would be happy to marry you. But how?” she whispered. “Riel still doesn’t approve.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Jonathon whispered now, too. “Come away with me. We’ll get a special license. If we’re discovered before the marriage, Riel will have no say in the matter, for we’ll spend a night alone together. Then he’ll have to agree to the marriage.”
This plan made complete sense to Lucinda. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Riel finally move out of the study doorway. She could not look at him. She felt sick inside, as if someone had dug out her heart and left her alone to bleed and die. “Yes.” She licked her lips. “When should we go?”
* * * * *
Riel felt uneasy as he readied for bed that night. What a hellish evening. Earlier, at dinner, Lucy’s blue eyes had flashed fire when she’d insisted she wanted to marry Jonathon. The pain of that wrenched through him again, but it meant little compared to what had happened later.
Lucy had finally learned he was a murderer.
Again and again, the shock and horror in her eyes damned Riel to the darkest pit of hell. She’d barely looked at him after that. But she’d spoken plenty to Jonathon.
Lucy had retired to bed the instant Jonathon left, and that fact raised Riel’s suspicions, too. His gut told him something was wrong—besides Lucy hating him with all of her heart now. But what?
Riel stayed up until midnight with the half-formed idea that she might try to sneak out. If so, he’d stay up and catch her. It didn’t happen.
Where would she go if she did? And with whom?
Jonathon. Tension gripped Riel’s heart now, as it had ever since Lucy discovered the truth, and she and the Duke had whispered together afterward.
He stripped off his jacket and hung it over the chair back. He wouldn’t put it past Jonathon to formulate a plan to make Lucy his own. Then Riel would no longer hold authority over her life. She would be at the mercy of that viper.
Frustrated, Riel sat down hard and yanked off his boot. If only he possessed proof that Jonathon was a two-faced weasel. Of the very same stock as his brother.
Riel’s fists clenched hard, remembering the self-satisfied sneer Jonathon had sent him before exiting this evening. Riel had wanted to cuff him then, and longed to punch him now.
Fury simmered through his veins like a hot, mindless song. He had succumbed to its seduction long ago. He would not now. This time, he’d keep a level head. Riel would find out what Lucy plotted. Tomorrow would be soon enough.
Riel pulled off his other boot and chucked it to the ground.
Suddenly he was on his feet, striding for the door. He had to make sure Lucy was all right. Deep in his gut, he felt that something was wrong. Once upon a time, he had failed to listen. This time he would not ignore it. He’d check and make sure she was still there. And if he woke her up, better yet. They could talk tonight.
Riel ignored the civilized whisper that said it was improper for a man to enter a woman’s room while she slept. His other half—his barbaric half—would not listen. By all that was holy, Riel told himself, he was her guardian, and he would make sure she was safe.
He rapped once on her door.
Silence.
Of course. She was asleep. He’d look in, just to make sure, and relieve the knot of unease in his chest.
Riel pushed open the door. As his eyes adjusted to the dim room he saw Lucy’s bed, and the lump upon it. So, she was there.
Riel never knew what made him stride over and twitch back the bedclothes. A corner of a pillow peeked out. For a second, he couldn’t believe his eyes, and then, with one savage jerk, he ripped off the entire quilt.
Gone! Lucy was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lucinda’s heart pounded after her nocturnal climb down the trellis outside her window. Jonathon waited for her below, his arms open to catch her if she fell. Of course, she didn’t.
Jonathon had already caught the valise she’d tossed down to him.
Lucinda cast a backward glance at her guardian’s townhouse, which lay silent and dark, except for a light in the study. Riel was still up, but unaware she’d finally escaped from him at last. After tonight, she would be freed from him forever.
Once, that had been her dearest wish. But no more. Tears ached in Lucinda’s throat at the impossibility of it all, but she swallowed them back.
A few hours earlier, she’d almost abandoned her impulsive plan to marry Jonathon. Once the shock of learning the truth had worn off, she’d at last thought of Sophie. How could she possibly leave her dear friend now, while So
phie fought for her life? She could not. Then Lucinda realized she could come back and spend as much time with Sophie as she wanted, after she married Jonathon. Jonathon wouldn’t mind.
Somehow, Lucinda would manage the pain of seeing Riel during that time, too. She could not leave bear to leave Sophie during her remaining days or weeks; not for longer than this one night. And she had no intention of doing so, either.
“Come,” Jonathon urged, tugging at her hand, and with one final look at Riel’s house, Lucinda ran after him to the waiting carriage.
Heart beating rapidly, she settled into Jonathon’s carriage. It seemed surreal that she was on her own. Unfettered. Free finally to make all of her own choices. Free of Riel.
A hot tear rolled down her cheek, but she quickly dashed it away. She’d made the right choice. Now her fate rested in Jonathon’s hands. He was a true, civilized gentleman.
She’d made the right choice.
Jonathon sat silently, too, as the carriage rolled through the dim London streets. Perhaps he was tired. It was late. Lucinda didn’t feel much like talking, either.
“Where are we going?” she ventured after a little while.
“The Drury Inn, on the edge of town. I’ve arranged the special license, and we can be married tomorrow.” It was hard to hear Jonathon’s voice, and an odd timbre seemed to resonate through it. Lucinda dismissed the thought. The carriage was small, and the cobbles of the street outside magnified noises, distorting all normal perception of sound.
Jonathon did not seem to want to talk, so Lucinda fell silent, too. Her heart felt heavy, and she struggled not to think about Riel. She peered out the window at the dark, gloomy streets of London. Depression licked through her spirit. She remembered the girls who had been left to wander the streets alone, after being attacked by that madman rapist. She shivered. How lonely it must have been for them. How horrifying.
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