by Claudy Conn
His brother regarded him with horror. “Duncan, you don’t mean, my God! Duncan, that girl, Melony…her death, did you…?”
Duncan’s smile was as cold as a dark dank cellar. “Don’t concern yourself with details, brother. You will never be in danger of me, and that is all you have to know. We have led…a hard life, our mother has had to endure years of snubs, but never again.”
Orson shuddered. “Do you know, you are positively terrifying at times!”
“Do you think so?” Duncan patted his brother’s shoulder and gazed at the portrait of Montlaine. “It is a wonder he never took me seriously, but then he didn’t know I had taken your place here and you mine in London. He never lit onto what I had planned and executed from the start of my visit.” Duncan’s laugh was almost maniacal.
Orson closed his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The hour was late, and Lady Penrod’s guests were due to arrive soon for the dinner she had planned.
Richard had watched her ladyship flutter about with his sister during the late afternoon. Tonight would be filled with tension and quite a bit of drama.
He put the finishing pinch to his bright white cravat and appraised the results as he smoothed his blue embroidered waistcoat and gave his lapels one last adjustment.
He checked his hessians, which came up just below the knees of his buff breeches. Excellent shine. Right then, he had achieved the elegant appearance he had been at pains to accomplish. He needed to play a part tonight. He needed to promote an imperious and authoritative personality. He wondered if he should dig about his portmanteau for the quizzing glass he had once purchased when they came into style. No. He had never acquired the art of the quizzing glass and might look foolish.
He gave his blond locks one last tweak, smoothed his impeccable dark blue superfine, and stepped away from the mirror.
He took a long breath of air and left his room, made his way down the long hall to a small arched oak door. He opened this and took the winding stone steps to yet another larger door and pounded unceremoniously. “Mary! Come on, girl…Mary. Are you going to keep me out here waiting in this drafty place?”
The door opened wide and Mary of Montlaine was roused to expostulate in awesome terms. “Richard. How grand you do look. Why, you are ever so beautiful.”
“Beautiful? You little wretch,” he returned on a chuckle. “You don’t call a man beautiful.” He moved within and did a turnabout of her, appraising her carefully, thoughtfully, and with one finger to his nose.
She appeared, with her dark curls flounced around her well-shaped head and her dark eyes glittering, to be a veritable imp, but also showing promise of the beauty she would soon be. She was nearly seventeen and already showed signs of being hailed ‘a diamond in the first water’.
Her dress suited her age and station, he thought. It was a very proper white muslin, but her figure was certainly no longer that of a schoolgirl.
He cleared his throat and said, “I say, Mary, you aren’t looking half bad yourself, for a chit still in the schoolroom, that is.”
“Ooooh! I should kick you for that. You would think a man who has been on the town would know how to properly compliment a woman,” she fired up at once.
“Aye, so he would,” Rick teased, “if he were addressing a woman and not a schoolgirl!”
“You are quite horrid, Richard. You are escorting me to dinner and should have said something…nice. Instead, you, you…”
“I do beg your pardon. You look quite lovely, Mary of Montlaine,” he said, his lips curving in spite of the fact that he meant to look serious.
“Oh!” she said, not at all mollified.
He laughed and said, “Now acquit me of any wrong doing, Mary. Think about my situation as a gentleman. You are sixteen and quite seriously attractive. I have no wish to seduce you with outrageous compliments. Only a scoundrel would do something like that. You will be a woman soon enough. Don’t wish this time of your life away. Indeed, I am told that as we take on years, we wish our childhood would return.”
She looked up at him and sighed. “I will be seventeen in just a couple of months. But I know what you are saying, and I do like you for it, Richard.”
He took her hand and slid it through the crook of his arm. “Good, I hope I may set an example for you of how a gentleman behaves, because soon, my dear, you will be barraged by them and you will need to use your very clever mind, as well as your heart.”
“Oh Richard, no one will ever measure up to you.”
He laughed. “Thank you, but one day, one young man will and more. Now, are you ready for this? You can change your mind and I shall stand by your decision, you know.”
Her little face took a grim expression and one beyond her years. “Yes, Richard, it must be done, you know that.”
He was struck to the heart by her bravery. She was literally walking into a den of wicked people. He truly believed the Echworths—all of them, totally without scruples and capable of anything.
“You are pluck to the core, Mary, but the devil’s in it this time, I wish it weren’t so,” he said, and patted her little hand.
“No, you don’t mean that. You want me to take them on and defeat them. You want it over with and see this as the only way,” she said, and wisdom shone in her dark eyes.
He gave her a long admiring gaze. “Well then, brat, nothing for it but to head on.”
* * *
It was all happening too fast, Orson thought as he moved into the room. Candles cast off a soft golden glow in the wall scones and around the sitting room.
A small fire in the grate alleviated the night chill from the ocean. They had been announced by the Penrod butler to the sound of warm laughter in the room.
His brother had not given him enough information.
He was supposed to know these people and he did not feel up to the task. What was he doing…walking into the room as heads turned to welcome them?
Why had he agreed to this unholy scheme?
Was his brother the monster he had always had nightmares about? He must be. This was no longer a prank. His brother was plotting evil.
At that moment, he had no doubt that his twin would even harm his own family…even him, if it proved expedient.
Nothing for it now. He had to complete his task. He had to walk up to Lady Vanessa, a woman he had never met before, and pretend that they were known to each other…that he had even shown a romantic interest in her.
How was he supposed to do that?
He could feel his hands trembling as he clasped them behind his back. This was a habit of his, not his brother’s. Had Duncan remembered to do this from time to time? Would anyone notice such a small thing?
He saw her across the room, quietly conversing with Lady Penrod as he and his family were announced.
He watched as a young man with sandy colored hair walked forward to greet them, but immediately turned his attention to Sheila. Ah, he thought, Duncan had told him about Randall of Southvale’s interest in their sister. He watched his mother interrupt Lady Penrod and Lady Vanessa’s conversation, and he saw immediately why his brother had formed a tendre for the beautiful young woman.
He made his way to her when he realized his brother had stopped to chat with Randall and Sheila.
Orson eyed his brother and beckoned him to join him as he gave Lady Vanessa a short bow and said, “Lady Vanessa.” He heard his own voice, and there was a touch of uncertainty in it. He would have to smile as though they were acquainted. He tried one on and continued, “I am pleased to present my brother to you—Duncan.”
* * *
Ness had been softly conversing with Lady Penrod when the Echworths were announced. She saw Orson step forward. Another man was slightly behind him, his face in the shadows created by the candlelight.
He stepped forward and her initial reaction was shock.
Orson introduced him as his brother. His brother, Duncan, was his twin!
Why had no one ever mentio
ned that? She looked at Lady Penrod, now making polite conversation with Mrs. Echworth. She would ask her afterwards if she knew the two were twins.
Now, she could do naught but smile up at Orson’s twin as Duncan bowed over her fingers and said, “Enchanted, Lady Vanessa.” His smile was smooth, as though practiced for polite society.
She merely and impolitely stared, but did not respond, happy that he continued to speak so she wouldn’t have to.
“My brother has told me so much about you, I feel already that we are acquainted,” Duncan said suavely.
Ness’s thoughts were in a turmoil as she sorted out the conclusions she was trying to form. Orson and Duncan were twins. This meant something she could not quite fathom and yet was sure was an important fact. There was something just out of her immediate reach.
“I…er, rather feel the same way,” she answered at last, noting that the curve of Duncan’s lip reminded her exactly of the trick Orson had with his flitting expressions. Well, of course, she told herself. They would have similar mannerisms—they were twins. She shook her head and added, “Please, do excuse me, I must appear very stupid to you, but you see, I find myself overwhelmed at the likeness between you and Orson. No one ever mentioned that Orson’s brother was his twin.”
Duncan smiled benignly. “Most people find it disconcerting at first, but I fancy you have a discerning eye and will soon learn to tell us apart.”
“Oh,” she said, “I think you credit me with more discernment than I possess.”
He chuckled and she considered him. There was something so familiar about him, but, of course, there would be.
“Do but consider the realities, Lady Vanessa. Look there at my brother, at his mode of dress, at his cool exterior. My brother is every hostess’s dream. The perfect gentleman. He is never flustered in any given situation, he is always tasteful, always ready to do the correct thing at all social functions,” he hesitated for a moment and then archly continued, “and now, beauty, take an appraisal of me.”
He seemed to be waiting for her to turn an examining eye over him, so she made a show of doing just that.
He smiled and said, “That’s right. I dress well enough, but nothing to denote the touch of Brummell about my person. I should always be invited to the Season’s routs, but I will tell you that mothers would steer their daughters clear of me…”
She laughed, which interrupted him. “No, they would not, Mr. Echworth. You are doing it up too brown. May I remind you that you are soon to inherit an old and honorable title and…”
He cut her off, “Ah, yes, perhaps you are right. My future will have any number of mothers now ready to throw their daughters my way, ah me. They shouldn’t, you know. I am as callous a cavalier as ever did live. I will continue to break hearts if they throw said hearts in my direction.”
“What a very wicked picture of yourself you do paint,” Ness said quietly. “I am fairly warned.”
“Not my intention. You are not someone I wish to warn away.”
He moved in very close and Ness wanted to run. He made her want to find cover when her gaze met his. “Am I not? And why should I believe that after all you have just disclosed to me?”
“Because I did disclose it, with a purpose. I mean to reform my ways…for you, my lady.”
“But, sir, you don’t even know me,” Ness said on a breathless note. He was intense and yet calculating.
“Ah, but I think I do,” he said softly. “Do you believe that I can reform for you?”
“Stop.” Ness tried to laugh but instead she found she was scarcely able to speak. “If you are a cavalier, so you must remain. You are the romantic figure women are forever dreaming about. By your own admission, you are the rogue fanning the passions of passionate women. I should not like to remove you from their sphere,” Ness bantered, trying to keep their conversation—his flirtation, as light as she could.
He gave her a measured look. “At the moment, there is only one woman worth my bother.”
Ness was familiar with the art of dalliance. Even so, his boldness set her on guard. She had only just met him and yet he behaved as though he had been actively courting her for weeks. She had learned early on how to turn a phrase and put a stop to such pointed flirtation, but something about him made her wary.
Here was someone that frightened her. For the first time, a man actually had her nervously wishing she was anywhere else but standing so near to him.
Another thing that nagged at her. Orson had been intently courting her from nearly the first moment they had met, and yet here he was, across the room, totally ignoring her. In fact, Orson was allowing his twin, Duncan, to completely cut him out. That seemed odd, very odd.
Fortunately, she was spared Duncan’s full attention, for at that moment, her own brother…with Mary on his arm, stood at the wide entrance, and were announced by Toby.
All speech was halted. All eyes were on the two as they stepped forward—yes, all looked at her brother and Mary, but Ness, Ness watched the assembled Echworths.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Edward parks put his fork down and sat back in his chair to frown across his dining table at the viscount.
“I tell you, Bret, something is afoot. I can feel it.”
“In what regard?”
“Look, I managed to take your man aside, Epps, and he tells me that the Echworths are invited to Penrod tonight for dinner. I find that…strange.”
“Lady Penrod wouldn’t have them again? It is impossible. Not with Mary in the house. Besides that, Guss loathes my cousins, and well you know it. Are you sure he said they were invited?”
“I am sure and what is more, I quite agree with you. Makes no sense, but, nevertheless, they go tonight, and what is more, what is worse, Duncan is with them.”
“Burn it! Never say he is here already! Bloody hell!” The viscount got up, ran a hand through his hair and took to pacing.
“Well, as to that, I’m glad of it, as now we may proceed with our plans. He arrived some minutes after I took my leave of Sheila to go into town. On my return trip, I met Epps in the field, as he had been waiting for me, and he gave me the news to give to you if I saw you. Also, he left some buckets of water near the cliff for Midnight.”
“Thank you, Edward.” The viscount sat back down and took up his snifter of brandy, drinking it down instead of savoring it. “Edward, this worries me. Duncan coming just at this time…it is too soon.” He shook his head. “The Echworths dining at Penrod while Mary is there…while Ness is there. I don’t like it…damn, I don’t.”
“Are you worried that Lady Vanessa will give Mary away to them?”
“I am not sure,” the viscount said quietly.
“She has not given you away, Bret,” Edward pointed out, and as Bret stood up again, he motioned for him to be seated. “Stop your restlessness. You are making me dizzy.”
The viscount sat once again. “What if she does give Mary away, thinking that she is doing the right thing for m’sister?”
“No, that doesn’t fadge. I don’t see Lady Vanessa in that light and I fancy you don’t either,” his friend answered thoughtfully.
“Who knows what a woman will do?” the viscount snapped.
“I will agree with you there. Women have always been a mystery to me.” Edward smiled and then grew somber. “And come to think of it, she seemed taken with Orson the night I was there. Spent a great deal of time in his company.”
“Orson? No. I can’t credit it. He isn’t in the petticoat line and wouldn’t know how to turn a pretty phrase to impress a woman of Ness’s stamp,” the viscount scoffed. “No, I tell you, she isn’t interested in Orson. I don’t believe it. For all her wild spirit, she has more sense than that.”
“Ah.” Edward grinned. “Well, Orson seemed very much in a flirting mode and gave Lady Vanessa more than a compliment or two. But she did not give you away when your name was mentioned, and I even heard her defend your honor. No, quite frankly, I think the woman means to keep y
our secret.”
The viscount said nothing to this. Instead, he poured some brandy in his friend’s glass and then some for himself. Once again, he downed it in short order and then got to his feet. “I’m off, Edward.”
“Ho there, my friend, not so fast. The hour wants but ten minutes to nine. It is far too early for you to make tracks…just to drop onto a straw bed. Best wait until all the revelers are safely tucked away.”
The viscount fidgeted. He wanted to return to his cave. He couldn’t say why. It was a driving need. He wanted to mount his horse and ride like the wind, yes, it would dissipate some of his angst, but it wasn’t just that. Specifically, he wanted to return to his cave.
In his heart, he actually knew why and, in that moment, acknowledged the truth. Even the slight possibility that Naughty Ness would attend him there made his spirits soar.
Confound it! He railed against himself. What hope had he that she would ever think of him again? Not after the way he had so ill used her and the way he had spoken to her. He should count himself lucky if she kept her promise to not give him away.
He poured himself another glassful and under the disapproving eye of his friend, once again downed its contents.
* * *
With Mary’s arrival, some confusion and a bevy of questions flew around the room.
Ness immediately took something of a backseat to the proceedings and watched the Echworths, one by one.
She almost clapped at the grand entrance her brother and Mary made, and having the butler announce them had been brilliant, indeed. That must have been Rick’s idea, for she had not thought of it. Her brother, only a year older than she, had suddenly grown in her estimation. He seemed so in control and wise.
