The Mammoth Book of Regency Romance

by Trisha Telep

  Then war broke out, worse than the previous skirmishes between the British and the Americans. The Americans resented the English impressing their seamen to fight against the French. The British felt the colonists were trying to steal the best acreage for farming. Each had allies among the various native tribes, who had reasons of their own for defending their ancestral lands. The French were stirring up trouble, too, as usual.

  Ted sympathized with the sailors and the settlers, but he was a loyal Englishman. So he volunteered to act as guide to the uncharted regions he’d been exploring. They made him a lieutenant, and soon sent him as a forward scout for a company of young, inexperienced soldiers. He was shot by men hiding in the woods, not Americans, not hostile natives. The marksmen spoke the King’s English, with Yorkshire accents. Ted knew because he was just barely conscious when they dragged him off the path he’d been following.

  He heard the gunfire when his green troops marched right into the ambush. Every Redcoat was killed. Then the attackers came back for Lt Driscoll, who was still alive. So they tossed his limp body into a gorge above a turbulent river. Ted did not remember much of what happened next, just the cold and the clutching for branches, rocks, dead trees. He remembered waterfalls and rapids, but not how he survived. He awoke with no idea how many days had passed, to find himself being cared for by a native tribe that spoke no Indian language he knew. Besides the gunshot, the loss of blood, fevers from exposure and the near drowning, half the bones in his body were broken or bruised. He was in too much pain, delirious most of the time, to care if he was patient or prisoner, or where they were taking him, slung between two ponies.

  Months passed. He had no idea how many, but his beard grew, and his wounds healed. He learned some of the natives’ tongue; they learned some English, which would help them in the white man’s world. Eventually he was strong enough to leave, but more months passed at the slow pace he was forced to travel, until he found a British village that had mail service, infrequent and unreliable as it was. He sent word of his survival. Before he reached his business partners or his army outpost, though, he heard rumours that a Lieutenant Driscoll had turned traitor. That he’d led his men into an ambush.

  He was ready to march into the commanding officer’s headquarters and declare his innocence. But first he collected his mail from England.

  “My brother wrote that the family had received an invitation to your wedding.”

  “There was no wedding.”

  “I did not know.”

  “I did not know you were alive, either.”

  Ted could only shrug now, years later. How to describe his despair? His dreams were dead. He might as well be too. What reason did he have to return to England? Why should he prove himself to someone who did not care?

  So he disappeared. He was officially dead, except to a trusted few.

  “I wasn’t one of those you trusted.”

  “You were married.”

  “No, but if I were, I was still your friend. I mourned for you every day.”

  “As I mourned my loss of your love.”

  She shook her head as if to say no, she’d never stopped loving him, but he stared out the window, not seeing.

  He went on to explain that eventually he started to recover his ambition. After all, a man had to do something with his life. With a new name and new appearance, he conducted business away from the cities and the larger settlements. He also conducted a covert investigation into the circumstances of the ambush. He discovered that his death was no accident of war, but a planned and paid-for assassination. When that effort apparently failed, his enemies plotted his dishonour, counting on a firing squad to end his existence.

  “Who would do such a dastardly thing?”

  “Oh, it was easy enough to trace the orders, once I recognized one of the barbarians who tossed me off the cliff. I, ah, convinced him it was in his best interests to name his employer. He reluctantly but eventually named the commanding officer, Major Frederickson himself. Who happened to be first cousin to the only man in England who had reason to wish me dead.”

  “Why did you not come home and bring charges against him if you knew his name?”

  “Because my enemy was highly placed. No court would convict him. I would have had to kill him myself, instead.”

  “The maggot deserved to die.”

  “Yes, but I could not shoot your husband.”

  Millie clutched the handkerchief from her pocket. “My husband?”

  “Stourbridge wanted me out of the way so he could marry you. He needed your dowry and the other money it seems you recently inherited.”

  “No,” she started to protest. But then she recalled the Earl’s greed, his implacable determination to get his way in everything. “But we never married.”

  “Why? It is your turn to explain. A broken engagement is bad enough, but a cancelled wedding? That is unheard of.”

  Millie started picking at the threads of the handkerchief she’d so tediously hemmed. She could afford to purchase store-made ones now, she thought, irrelevantly. Ted cleared his throat.

  Millie cleared hers too. She wished for tea. Or wine. “I thought you were dead. I wished I were too, but one doesn’t die of a broken heart, it seems. As you said, a person has to do something with his or her life. So when Papa announced that Lord Stourbridge wished to marry me, I agreed.”

  She knew she could never come to love the arrogant Earl or be happy under his domineering ways, but she hoped to have children to give her existence meaning. At first the Earl was courteous and complimentary. Then he started to show his true colours, in his eagerness to begin their family long before the wedding.

  Millie tried to tolerate his kisses, but he wanted more. She could sacrifice much for her unborn babes, but not yet, not until she said her vows. The Earl turned nasty at her refusal which he took, rightly so, as her reluctance to share intimacies with any man other than Theodore Driscoll.

  “He . . . he tried to force me.”

  “Now I have to kill him twice.”

  “He did not succeed. I used my knee, the way you taught me before you left. He let me go, but he vowed to make me pay for my insolence after the wedding. He would take pleasure in showing me who was master.”

  “Three times.”

  The handkerchief was in shreds now, pieces littering Millie’s lap. “I knew I could not go through with the marriage to that beast. Neither Papa nor Ned would listen. The contracts were signed, and they expected me to do my duty for the family. I was a silly goose, they said. I suffered bridal nerves, they said. But I knew better. So I ran away. On the day of the wedding.”

  Ted whistled. “You left Stourbridge at the altar?”

  “St George’s, with hundreds of guests. The Prince was invited. I do not know if he attended or not.”

  Now Ted grinned. “That’s my girl!”

  “No, I was no one’s girl. You were dead, remember? My father disowned me and sent me off with Aunt Mary to live in poverty near Bristol. Ned did not plead my cause. I hardly blamed either of them. The Earl sued for breach of promise, of course, and won my dowry plus a huge sum for his public humiliation. He took his revenge further by seeing that every door in London was closed to my family, and by claiming I was a slut anyway, most likely carrying another man’s child. We were all ruined by that evil man.”

  Ted left the window and stood in front of Millie’s chair, brushing crumbs of handkerchief off her skirts. “Then come with me to London and we’ll both have our revenge. I have written proof of Stourbridge’s perfidy, and I have influential friends who will support my testimony. Come with me, Red.”

  “What are you asking of me?”

  He knelt down and took both of her hands in his. “I cannot ask you to marry me, not until my name is cleared. But I am asking you to follow me to town. I’ll leave tomorrow, open Driscoll House and fetch a special licence. By the time you arrive, I’ll have Stourbridge run out of London, or run through with my sword.”

&nb
sp; “No, I cannot go. I would have followed you anywhere, to the ends of the earth, once. But I cannot marry you.”

  “What, because this isn’t a proper proposal? I’ll have my mother’s rings waiting for you in town, and do it up right, I swear.”

  “I am not fit to be your viscountess. Haven’t you listened? I am disgraced.”

  “Worse than a traitor and army deserter? We’ll both disprove our guilt. And if people do not accept us, we can simply return to Kent and start filling the big empty house with our own family.”

  Millie stared at their two hands, joined, without speaking.

  “Is it the money? Do you fear I cannot support you and our children? I am a wealthy man, my love, even without the Driscoll fortune. Not even your father could complain.”

  “I seem to have a fortune of my own suddenly. And I would have married you when you had nothing.”

  “But not now?” He put a finger on her chin and tipped her head up, forcing her to look at him. “You do not wish to marry me?”

  “More than my hopes of heaven. But I do not trust you.”

  He dropped her hands. “You think I am a traitor, a coward?”

  “I think you will continue to decide what is best for me, like every man has been deciding my entire life. I think you’ll challenge Stourbridge, not caring that you could lose or be hung for an illegal duel. I’d be a widow, mourning you all over again. Mostly I think we are not friends any longer. You do not trust me.”

  “I thought you had not waited.”

  “If I knew you were alive, I would have waited for ever for your return.”

  He dragged his hands through his shaggy hair. “Deuce take it, Red, we cannot change the past. Must we suffer for it for the rest of our lives?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Come to London and find out. Now that you’re an heiress, go buy new clothes and jewels, another three dogs for your aunt. Attend the theatre, see the opera. Enjoy yourself, my love. You deserve it, and we deserve another chance to become the friends we used to be, the lovers we should have been. No one will shun a beautiful, rich woman, I promise you, especially after we reveal what a villain Stourbridge has been. Hints of an engagement, and your aunt as chaperone, will still any gossip. As for your worrying over a gentlemanly duel, I never intended to give Stourbridge that much of a chance to shoot me in the back. He did not offer to meet me at dawn, or treat my lady with honour. The scoundrel is no gentleman.” He grinned. “And I have learned how to fight dirty.”

  Millie still wasn’t sure. She was certain of her heart, but not of her courage.

  Five

  “Take me instead,” Winnie pleaded.

  She tumbled into the room from where she’d obviously been listening with her ear against the door. “I’ve never had my chance in London, and they—”everyone knew she meant her brother and his wife, who were right behind her in the hallway “—will never take me because of what happened to Millie.”

  “You cannot go stay in a bachelor’s house with no one to chaperone but a crazy old lady who speaks to dogs,” Lady Cole pronounced.

  At which Aunt Mary shot back: “And you should hear what they say about you, you tub of lard.”

  “I suppose we could all go,” the Baron suggested, “since no one could find fault if my sisters are under my care. Driscoll needs my help to prove his bona fides and re-establish himself. My knowledge of the law, don’t you know.”

  No one believed he had any such knowledge, but Winnie enthusiastically seconded Cole’s offer to let her go to London. So did Noel, for reasons of his own, having to do with the little beauty.

  “And if Stourbridge is routed,” Cole added, “we can be comfortable again in town.” Which he sorely missed, with his clubs and his convenients. “But Cole House is leased for the year.”

  Ted bowed to the inevitable, and the only way he could guarantee Millie going to London. “You are all invited to stay at my home, of course. I am afraid, though, that there is no provision for children at Driscoll House. The nurseries have been in holland covers for decades, and the armament collection is too dangerous.” To say nothing of the priceless heirlooms.

  Lady Cole loved the idea of getting back her rightful place in the beau monde, but she hated giving up control of her disappointing husband or her spoiled sister-in-law, especially to this great hairy bear of a man whose social standing had not been settled. “I refuse to travel without my children,” she said.

  Her husband smiled. “Good. That’s settled then. I’ll escort my sisters and my aunt, and you shall stay behind with the little dears.”

  “What? I never said—”

  No one listened to her sputtering. They all waited for Millie’s decision. They couldn’t very well go if she didn’t.

  Ted knelt beside her again, his hand cupping her face. “I need you beside me, Millie Mine. Every day, every way.”

  A tear ran down her cheek, on to his fingers. “Heaven help me, I need you too.”

  Now Aunt Mary sniffled, and even Noel had to clear his throat.

  “But you have to promise me, Theodore Driscoll, on your word of honour, that you will not let that man kill you. That we will run away together if your innocence is not proved. That you will never go off and leave me again.”

  “I promise, my love,” he said, and sealed the bargain with a kiss.

  Lady Cole started carping about how they’d simply cause another scandal at this rate. No one listened to her that time, either. Lord Cole called for champagne, for a toast.

  They were going to London.

  This trip was far different from Millie’s recent one. The journey took hours, for one thing, not days. And Millie’s conveyance was a fancy open curricle with a competent whip for a driver: Ted. Noel and Cole were on horseback alongside, and Aunt Mary and Winnie – who was threatened with staying behind with Lady Cole unless she was on her best behaviour – sat in luxury in the Driscoll family coach. Mr Armstead rode with them. The solicitor joined the travellers because he knew the best barristers, if one should be needed for Lord Driscoll’s affair; he also felt a debt to Miss Mildred Cole for letting her languish in Bristol so long. At first he worried about a conflict of interests, representing both families, but Mr Armstead could see for himself how the new Viscount and the former outcast were on close, even intimate terms. The distinguished, middle-aged bachelor was also relieved, and delighted, to be seated across from Miss Marisol Cole, a lovely woman of delightful nature. Her dogs were delightful too.

  Ted had sent word of their arrival, so servants were lined up outside Driscoll House waiting to welcome them with every comfort a viscount’s dwelling could offer. They dined at home that evening and made an early night of it after the excitement of the move. The campaign began the next day.

  Ted went to the War Office. Millie went to the shops.

  Ted met with the Home Secretary. Millie met with a banker Mr Armstead recommended, to transfer her monies into her own name with a separate account for Aunt Mary.

  The new viscount hired six brawny men to guard his back, his home and his beloved. Millie hired two lady’s maids, a dresser, a coiffeur, a seamstress, a dance instructor and a social secretary.

  Ted called on his godmother, the Dowager Duchess of Southead. Millie called on her late mother’s best friend, the current Duchess of Southead.

  Ted visited the gentlemen’s clubs, his own, his brothers’, his father’s. Millie visited the modiste, the corsetière, the bootmaker and the lending libraries.

  Ted got his hair cut. Millie did not.

  At night they all attended the theatre, the opera, even the circus at Astley’s Amphitheatre. Millie was never far from the Viscount’s side, while her beautiful young sister hung on Lord Noel Driscoll’s arm. A maiden aunt and a well-respected lawyer provided watchful chaperonage, along with the girls’ brother. They were all seen, admired and endlessly speculated about. No one approached them or sought their acquaintance, however, despite the rumours flying through town
that the Prince himself was considering taking up Driscoll’s cause. No one wanted to risk the powerful and prickly Stourbridge’s displeasure until they saw how the cards fell.

  Stourbridge was at the races in Epsom, due back in London in a week. He had to know of Ted’s miraculous survival via the servants’ grapevine, and of Lord Driscoll’s arrival with Stourbridge’s former fiancée to boot. The Earl had to be seething. Or shaking in his boots, if half the gossip were true. The ton was atwitter with the talk, aghast that one of their own could behave so reprehensibly, agog for the Earl’s return and the outcome.

  Millie and Ted were alone almost never. How else to restore a lost reputation? But how to reclaim a lost friendship? They stole hours at night, long after the others were abed and the servants dismissed, that’s how.

  Millie marvelled at how Ted was even more handsome than she remembered, now that he’d shaved. She wept over the scars the beard and moustache had hidden. The Viscount admired how Millie’s figure had grown more womanly, and her glorious hair had grown longer. He spent hours combing it through his fingers, smoothing out the night plait her maid spent hours braiding. They spoke of books, Bristol and his business, of travels they hoped to take and changes they would make in the townhouse. They discussed the reforms Ted could enact when he took his seat in Parliament and which party best suited their values. Sometimes they disagreed, but they listened to each other with respect and considered the opposing views. They fell back into the old camaraderie as easily as Aunt Mary’s dogs found the most comfortable sleeping nooks and the most sympathetic servants in their new residence. It was as if Ted and Millie’s closeness was part of their very natures, unaffected by time or distance.

  What was new was passion. Not that the pair hadn’t felt attraction before or had treated each other like siblings, but they’d been young, innocent and honourable. Now they were adults, aroused by each other’s scents and shapes and skin. They had grown-up desires, growing by the minute, and so many wasted years to make up for.

  The household might know how Ted and Millie spent their late-night/early-morning hours and why Miss Cole’s hair looked like one of the dogs had slept in it, but no one interfered. The sooner the wedding, the better for everyone. Driscoll House would have a mistress. Aunt Mary would have a comfortable home – if her hopes for Mr Armstead went unfulfilled. Winnie would have a wealthy sponsor for her season, her brother a high-placed brother-in-law, and Noel freedom to pursue his own pleasures.