Devil of Montlaine (Regency Rendezvous Book 1)

by Claudy Conn

  “You weren’t in a position to do very much, Bess. Think about it. If you had told her not to see this Master scoundrel while she was in the first throes of infatuation, she would not have listened. By the time she discovered how wicked he really was, she was already in trouble. I don’t know what you could have done, even if you had gone to your father to expose…”

  “No! Please, oh please, don’t tell my father. It would break his heart. He has always thought me so special…”

  “Hush, child. Your father needn’t know. There is no reason to name you in this. Obviously Melony knew who the Master was. Did she never tell you or hint at his identity?”

  “No. She couldn’t. She said if she did it might prove to be dangerous for me. She was desperately in love with him those first couple of months…and then she became afraid of him.”

  “What happened when she told him she was with child?” Ness pursued.

  “He was angry. He told her she planned it and he wouldn’t have it. He said he wasn’t going to let her stand in his way. That was when he started taking at least two of the other girls in our group as lovers. He wanted to hurt her…drive her away.” She took a long gulp of air and fought back the tears and added, “That was when Melony flew into a rage. I have never seen her so angry. She told me she knew what his plans were and she would ruin them, just as he ruined her.”

  “She said that exactly? Ruin his plans?” Ness frowned.

  “Exactly those words. It was then, even if I had not seen Montlaine in town that night, I still would have known it wasn’t him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because now and then we would meet him on the pike and he would stop to wish us a good-day. He always passed a pretty word with us, not even singling Melony out over me. I thought him kind. She liked him, but she was not in love with him. Besides that, he was always mounted on a huge black stallion. The Master’s horse was dark…perhaps black, but it had a small white marking between its ears. I love horses, and noted it at once.”

  “Brilliant girl,” Ness exclaimed. “Right then, I will just ask again to be sure. Melony didn’t say she was going to expose him to the village for his demonology?”

  “No, she said she was going to ruin his plans. Her words,” Bess reiterated.

  “Knowing all this, you allowed them to accuse the viscount?” Ness asked gently.

  “How could I come forward and say I was a part of the cult? I went to my mother and told her that Melony had told me she was with child and that I had reason to believe it wasn’t the viscount. My father went to the magistrate, but by that time a mob had collected and was on their way to Montlaine.”

  “What about the Master’s voice?”

  “Indeed, he always took great care to muffle it. Easy enough, I suppose, behind that awful mask he wore.” She sighed heavily. “I don’t know how any of this can help you clear Montlaine’s name.”

  “Don’t you? It points me in a direction that cannot be ignored,” Ness said absently. She then turned her inquiring eyes on Bess’s face. “Dear girl, you and I both know that you have a very keen notion of who this awful man who calls himself the Master is.”

  “No…I don’t…please…” Bess stood up. “I must go now. My father will be worried.”

  “Thank you, Bess,” Ness said. “Will you visit with me soon…tomorrow, and allow my Millie to whip up a new style for your lovely hair?”

  “Yes, yes, I will…” She touched Ness’s hand. “Please, Ness. This man is dangerous.”

  “Agreed. I will be careful.”

  “And not tell my father,” Bess said urgently.

  “I understand.” Ness watched her go before mounting her tethered mare and whispering, “Well, Shadow, we have set ourselves a task, haven’t we?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The viscount had climbed back down from Ness’s balcony, taken to horse, and instead of returning to his cave dwelling, rode hard and recklessly over the dark moors until he found himself heading in the direction of his friend. He had never before been so affected by a woman.

  Naughty Lady Ness had him turned inside out. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Her speaking eyes, her openness that simply glowed with her smile. He found himself taken with her in a way that made him feel like a schoolboy hopelessly infatuated.

  Feeling like that, he made a decision. It was with a grim face that he continued until he reached Edward Parks’ grounds. There, he quietly attended to his horse, stabled the stallion, and made his way to his friend’s window. At the window, he grimaced to himself. It seemed his life was reduced to forever climbing through balcony doors and windows!

  He scaled Edward’s wall easily and climbed through the open balcony door.

  He saw his friend, lying asleep, unsuspecting, and suddenly the viscount felt his good humor return. His lips twitched at the thought of giving his friend a good fright.

  He bent and gave Edward’s shoulder a vigorous shake.

  “Edward…” he said on a loud whisper. “Wake up, you old dog.”

  Edward moaned and rolled over, still asleep. The viscount yanked off the covers and gave his closest friend a swift shove. “Edward, I say!”

  “Huh?” Edward awoke with a start and sat up, rubbed his eyes and groaned. “Oh no, go away, Bret, do please, go away.” He groaned and buried his face in his pillow.

  Montlaine chuckled. “This is what you get for professing a life-long friendship with me. Up, I say. Edward, you lead too easy a life. It has made you soft.” He pulled the pillow away and tossed it across the room. When this did not make his friend get up, he pushed him hard.

  “Plague take you and your friendship,” Edward uttered as he rose to a sitting position. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared at the viscount. “You are the devil. Just as they say—the very devil. What in thunder are you about at this hour? It better be damned serious.”

  Montlaine’s lips curved. “It is serious. Very serious. I have made up my mind. This can no longer go on.”

  “What? What are you saying?” Edward was now fully awake.

  “The time has come to end the sort of life I have been living, if life it has been. I plan to go tomorrow afternoon directly to the magistrate and request a trial by my peers!”

  Edward was on his feet immediately. “Thunder and turf! You can’t mean it. Don’t you realize what you are proposing?”

  “Indeed, I do. Do you think I don’t?” The viscount put his hand through his locks and took to pacing. “Damnation. We have made absolutely no progress. We can’t while I am in hiding. We need to openly investigate. Edward…I feel like a shadow living the way I am. I am not worthy of…” He stopped himself. He was about to say he wasn’t worthy of the woman he had decided had to be his. “Of my name.”

  “You would be out in the open, yes, but that will not accomplish a thing. How can you take such a chance?”

  “Because I must,” the viscount said, and dropped wearily into a chair.

  He looked up to see his friend glaring at him. “You are crushing me, Bret. I cannot allow you to do this to yourself. What has put you in such a taking? Tell me, what is it? What happened that you are pushed in such an absurd direction?”

  “Nothing. It is just time,” the viscount said grimly.

  “No, it will not serve. Bret, I am making some headway. You must allow me time to continue this to its end,” Edward said pleadingly.

  “Headway? End? What in blazes are you talking about?” The viscount’s impatience made him stand again.

  “Sit,” Edward commanded.

  The viscount sighed, but sat. “Don’t prose on in your usual fashion, Edward. Just come out with it.”

  Edward pulled a face and said, “The long and the short of it is, I have been courting your cousin, Sheila. I do hope you don’t mind.”

  “Never say so! Why in bloody hell?” The viscount was back on his feet.

  Edward motioned for him to be seated.

  The viscount sat.

  �
�Why indeed, courting her incessantly,” Edward said.

  “Shall I felicitate you?” the viscount sneered. “Now, will you please be serious?”

  “Oh, but I am serious. Bret—I am instantly transported at the very mention of my darling Sheila’s name,” Edward said soberly.

  The viscount regarded him for a long moment and then let go a shout of laughter. “Stap me if you didn’t almost have me believe you.”

  Edward feigned hauteur, “Pray, my lord, why wouldn’t you believe me?”

  “Cut line, you ‘ole dog! Now, what is all this about…you and Sheila? For I tell you frankly, the chit means mischief, and if she has been casting out lures your way, I would be wary if I were you.”

  Edward put up a finger. “I find your remark vastly interesting, for that is precisely what Sheila has done. Now, naturally being a charming fellow, I could have easily supposed the maid had been captivated by my extraordinary good looks and delightful wit. Alas, I am something of a cynic and decided to look further.”

  “And?”

  “Ah, I came up with the only conclusion possible. I needs must sweep the maid off her feet and make her mine.” The tease in Edward’s voice made the viscount laugh again.

  “But, Edward, to what purpose?”

  “Aha, I see that, although you ask, you really already know, don’t you?” Edward said conspiratorially.

  “I think so, but, Edward, this is dangerous…for you!”

  “Is it? I don’t think so. Only hear what I have discovered and how much more we have to gain if I continue on the path I started.”

  They sat together as Edward brought the viscount up to date. They took some time and thorough exploration by both men regarding the obvious obstacles and the hidden threats.

  The viscount rose but stayed a moment longer and asked quietly, “Edward, you are sure Sheila has not formed a tendre in your direction? I may not like or approve of her and her family, but I would not like to see her hurt.”

  “Nonsense. As though I would. No, she has no interest in me other than what I can do for her. Of that you may be certain.”

  Thus, it was not until the wee hours of the morning that the viscount took to his allotted quarters.

  He should have just fallen right off into a deep sleep. He was completely exhausted, but he tossed and turned, and thoughts of Ness troubled his mind.

  When sleep came, it was laden with dream flashes. They were garbled, frenzied, and threaded with terrors that men keep to themselves. Even so, when he awoke at last, the first thought that came to mind brought with it a vision.

  Bright blue eyes, the bluest he had ever looked into, twinkled mischievously at him in a countenance that was exquisitely beautiful. The Lady Vanessa had captured his heart, but his question was, did she want it—or was she only playing a game?

  * * *

  The morning had started out grey, but as Duncan Echworth’s hired post chaise slowly came to a stop before the great doors of Montlaine Castle, the sun began to push the clouds aside.

  Duncan looked up at the warm bright sun and stepped out of the carriage to be greeted with polite deference by the Montlaine servants. He regarded them with reserve. Their livelihood was now dependent on him, as he was the heir. He knew, of course, that none of these servants liked him or his family, but if they did not show their loyalty, they would soon be turned off.

  He watched two of the maids scurry out of view and his eyes narrowed. It had always been thus when he and the family visited. He knew they were held in contempt. Well, well, he would see them starve if they continued in this fashion!

  He knew that some of their confusion was because of the likeness between himself and his brother, Orson. They were twins. Of course, they tried different hairstyles, different modes of fashion, different mannerisms, but twins they were.

  Rarely could they be seen together—side by side, without setting tongues to wagging.

  Duncan and Orson regarded one another as they shook each other’s shoulders. The ginger colored hair, the grey eyes, the outline of their features. It was like looking into a mirror.

  Orson was the dandy. Duncan preferred a ‘country gentlemen style’. Orson prided himself on his neckcloth and his shirtpoints, on his style of address, and had made a name for himself amongst the dandy set.

  Duncan was the elder twin, and while not a slovenly or unfashionable man, he rather despised foppery and never paid the cut of his coat much heed.

  Duncan was wild of mind, forever in search of a jest, a lark, and a woman to bed. He fancied himself a rogue cavalier.

  The twins immediately sought and found privacy within the Montlaine library and there it was that the brothers considered one another.

  One made an exaggerated bow to the other and said, “You are perfection itself. Indeed, Orson, I am thoroughly convinced that you can be none other than the charming Duncan Echworth!” He once again took hold of his brother and gave him an affectionate squeeze. “Did you play me well?”

  Orson Echworth had, for the last few months, been acting out a role in London. He had gone there to play the part of his twin, Duncan. “It was easy enough, brother. It isn’t as though we haven’t done this all our lives,” Orson said, and chuckled.

  “Aye, but this time, everything depends on everyone believing you were me,” Duncan said, one brow up. “So, I ask you, were there any problems?”

  “Not a one. In fact, it will please you to no end, Duncan, but I have even added a few charmers to your long list of hearts, though, in truth, I found no pleasure in the game. Women are all the same, tiresome creatures. What above the physical you find to so intrigue you is quite beyond my comprehension.”

  “Ah, but the physical, Orson, the physical. Orson, you will admit, that at the very least, it must have been enjoyable for you?” Duncan bantered.

  * * *

  Orson had not enjoyed his role in London. He had not enjoyed the look of hurt on one of the women’s faces, one who had been his brother’s forgotten lover. There was something cruel about his twin and it struck him now. Duncan’s charm was deadly. He knew that Duncan was, had always been, the stronger brother. He was a dominant force in Orson’s life. Duncan ruled him and he found he could deny him nothing. He had never understood the hold his twin had over him, but there was no gainsaying that it was a fact. It was a troubling feature of their relationship. Duncan would rule, he would follow. Now, as always, Duncan held the reins.

  “Dash it, Duncan, I hope you managed to curtail that attitude while playing me? Everyone knows I am not in the petticoat line.”

  Duncan laughed. “Be easy, brother. I held myself in admirable check, even when invited to waver, I did not, at least not when I played you, and let me tell you, the temptation was as plump a chambermaid as ever I desired. But never mind. I played your part and resisted her full breasts.” He sighed and took a seat. “In fact, only one fair charmer actually brought me up to snuff. I fancy her, you see…I fancy her on my arm, as well as in my bed.”

  “Oh no, devil take you, Duncan! What have you done?”

  “Naught but a mild flirtation with the Lady Vanessa Grey,” Duncan said, and crossed his arms. “What say you to adding to our fortune?”

  “Oh, no, no, we are in for it now. From the outset I knew this wouldn’t work. How will you accomplish such a feat as me? We can’t be each other forever!”

  “You shall bow out and I shall step in with the stunning beauty. As simple as that. As myself, I can turn on my full charm, you see.”

  “No…no…”

  “Shut up, Orson,” Duncan said severely. “My plan has been brilliant. My plan is going smoothly and I shall have what I want.”

  “But, of all people, the Lady Vanessa? She won’t have you. She could have anyone,” Orson wailed.

  “Oh, do you know her?” Duncan seemed interested. “For I am at a loss to understand how I have not met her while she was enjoying her London Season.”

  “I know of her!” Orson answered. “Duncan, I h
ave a bad feeling about this and I won’t have it. I am not going to continue some charade of yours with Lady Vanessa. Her family is very powerful…and…”

  “And you won’t have to do anything of the kind. I mean to take over as myself. You will introduce us this evening, in fact, for Mother and Sheila have wangled an invitation from Lady Penrod.”

  “Lady Penrod? The Lady Vanessa is connected to Lady Penrod? Damnation, Duncan, have you lost your mind?”

  Duncan laughed.

  “Brother…brother, listen to me. You can’t do this. It is bad enough that you wish to dally with the only daughter of the House of Grey, but Lady Penrod is moving to clear Montlaine’s name. I heard whispers everywhere that his peers are outraged at his treatment by the local magistrate. A full scale investigation is being slated to begin.”

  “I have the Montlaine title and soon I will have the fortune.” He eyed his brother thoughtfully. “Investigations will pull up absolutely nothing. And by the time they are done poking around, we shall have the entire Montlaine fortune in our hands.”

  “I don’t understand? You told me you plan to wed Mary and thereby get control of the entire estate, but if you are going to court…”

  Duncan interrupted with a wave of his hand and an exasperated sigh. “I have decided that there is a better, far better way of dealing with Mary. In addition to settling that in my head, and it is settled, Edward Parks means to throw in with us. He wants Sheila, you see, and together they want a rather hefty sum. I have given it a great deal of thought…as you.” He laughed. “Both Sheila and Parks think they have been dealing with Orson, but that is neither here nor there. I mean to allow Parks to aid us, but Sheila will have to look elsewhere for a husband, for he won’t survive long enough to enjoy her or our money.”