Devil of Montlaine (Regency Rendezvous Book 1)

by Claudy Conn

  Mrs. Echworth was moved to a convulsive display of feelings. Sheila’s attitude could not be checked and flowed freely, while the twin Echworths remained completely silent at first.

  “Mary! Why, you should be ashamed of yourself, cousin!” Sheila exploded, taking a step toward her and looking as though she might slap the girl.

  Ness moved forward in the chair, ready to intervene, but Rick put himself slightly in front of Mary, all the while keeping her little hand in the crook of his arm.

  Ness smiled to herself and sat back again.

  Mrs. Echworth immediately put her hands together and wrung them as she wailed, “How can you have put me to so much grief and worry?”

  “Indeed, Mary, it was most thoughtless of you to do this to us…and then to come here…instead of your own home—to us!” Sheila ranted, her cheeks flushed with obvious rage.

  “I should think we might consider Mary’s emotional state before we allow ourselves to run the girl through,” Duncan said quietly, and Ness stared at him, not at all fooled.

  His face and eyes could not hide his fury.

  He must have felt her eyes on his and turned to look at Ness over one shoulder. His expression clearly said, you knew and you kept it from us.

  She put up her brow and her expression said, yes, I did know Mary was here.

  “Indeed,” Lady Penrod said, taking command of the situation as she stepped into the middle of the fray, walking over and touching Mary’s shoulder where she stood beside Rick. She added, “My dear, dear heart, my Mary has lost her brother under grave and mysterious circumstances. I understand from the friends she has been with these last few weeks that she was in an emotional and physical decline. I should think the last thing she needs now is chastisement and even if you don’t agree, I shall not allow it under my roof.”

  Ness nodded and said softly, “Bravo, my lady.”

  “Are you trying to tell us that she wasn’t actually here with you?” Sheila said with disbelief to the point of insult.

  Lady Penrod shot her a cold look. “I have already told you that on another occasion. Mary has only just arrived at Penrod yesterday afternoon. Hence my invitation to you for dinner.”

  Ness marveled to herself how her Guss took control and lied without the slightest bit of guilt. Easy enough, as they all believed that the Echworths meant, at the very least, mischief towards Mary.

  “I demand you tell us at once where you have been!” Mrs. Echworth snapped at the girl.

  “In what capacity do you make such a demand?” Richard of Grey asked, his brow up, his eyes frosty blue.

  Ness almost laughed. Was this her brother? Why—he was perfect!

  “In the capacity,” Duncan said, and now he could not hide his fury, “of her guardian.”

  “That is not what any of you are,” Lady Penrod said, and whipped out an official looking document from the pocket of her gown. “This is a codicil to the viscount’s will. It stipulates that should anything happen to him, I am named as Mary’s legal guardian.”

  The Echworths broke out into argument amongst themselves, all of them speaking at one another and then turning on Lady Penrod.

  Duncan finally raised a hand and said, “May I see that?”

  Lady Penrod handed it over, her chin well up. “My man tells me it is in order, but you are welcome to question it in a court of law, or anywhere you choose.”

  Ness marveled. She had no idea that Lady Penrod had such a document. This was astonishing news. The Echworths could not remove Mary from Lady Penrod’s care without going to court, where they must know they would lose.

  “Why did you wait to advise us of this?” Duncan demanded irritably.

  “Ah, why, indeed. I wanted to consult with my attorney and ascertain its validity before I took control of this grim and sad situation. No matter, the bottom line is, Mary will remain with me.” She eyed Mrs. Echworth, who was spluttering incoherent sentences, and added, “In addition to that, as Mary’s guardian, I have asked the Home Office to look into the event that led to the Viscount of Montlaine’s untimely death. He should not have been chased onto the moors in fear of his life. He should not have been accused with a mob at the magistrate’s back. It should have been done in private and at a reasonable hour. You can be certain the magistrate, who conducted that ugly affair, will have to answer for his mishandling of that situation. The name of Montlaine is ancient and respected. This will not stand, you may count on my contacts to look into this from every aspect.”

  Mrs. Echworth sank into a chair.

  Ness’s mouth opened, as did her brother’s. Randy stood oddly quiet during all of these proceedings while he watched and frowned at Sheila.

  All this while, Mary had not said a word.

  “I am going to fight this,” Mrs. Echworth said, her voice scarcely audible. “Meaning no disrespect, Lady Penrod, but you are not her nearest relative. I am. She should be with me.”

  “Yet…she will not be. I am her legal guardian and Mary will be under my care, as will her part of the estate. I believe her brother knew what was best for her,” Lady Penrod answered sharply.

  “Duncan?” Mrs. Echworth said. “Do something.”

  Mary cleared her throat and all eyes went to her. “’Tis not your place to argue with my brother’s wishes. You never lifted a finger to help him or take his part, or mine for that matter, when the mob was upon us. You—not any of you are capable of being my guardian and my brother knew this and provided for my care.”

  “How dare you speak to our mother…to us, in that manner!” Sheila snapped, and in fact took another threatening step towards Mary.

  “Sit down…or go, but don’t you ever storm up to Mary like that again,” Rick said sharply, his eyes looking like blue ice to his sister.

  Ness was simply too fascinated by this grown up man before her eyes to take part in any of this, and thought that Lady Penrod and her brother had it well in hand.

  Duncan touched his sister and said, “I think, Sheila, you take affront too easily, however, I believe we shall forego dinner at this time. I no longer think it appropriate under these uncomfortable circumstances, and while tempers are heightened, to sit to a meal.” He offered his arm to his mother and turned to Orson to take hold of Sheila.

  Sheila shrugged away from Orson and said, “You think this is done? We have an attorney who will contest this for us, see if he won’t.”

  “He may try,” Lady Penrod answered quietly. “Good night.”

  Ness rose then and went to stand beside Lady Penrod in a show of support. She saw Sheila turn to Randy and wailed at him, “Randall…are you going to allow these people to treat us like this?”

  “Indeed, I should very well be pleased to see you leave…now,” Randy answered coldly.

  Ah, Ness thought, her cousin had thankfully seen the light. That was one situation thwarted without any help from her.

  * * *

  Outside, Duncan fumed as he helped his mother and sister into the coach and climbed inside. He waited only long enough for Orson to climb in and take the seat beside him. Orson had not said a word while this new revelation had hit them.

  Sheila, however, was still wailing and complaining.

  “Do shut up, sister,” Duncan snapped. “We are momentarily nonplussed, but not out. I have yet another more thorough plan. Mary will now think herself free to get back into her normal routine activities. She will…”

  “Well, abducting her won’t serve,” Mrs. Echworth said. “You will have to do something about that will. Get that attorney…what is his name, the one that has a tendre for Sheila…Parks, that’s it. Parks. Get him to do something about this codicil. How can Montlaine have appointed Lady Penrod as guardian?”

  “He was her brother and legal guardian and had that power. It shows he did not trust us, and Mary’s part of the estate was his to control until she comes of age or marries.”

  “Well, you can’t marry a sixteen year old,” Orson finally said. “We have enough fortune no
w…”

  “You mean, I do,” Duncan said on a hard note. “And there is never enough when there is more to be had.”

  “That Mary—she played us for fools. She made her brother write that codicil, mark me on this. I wish she were dead,” Sheila said.

  “Aye, as do I,” Duncan agreed.

  Only Orson squirmed and looked away. Duncan laughed. “You have no spine, brother. You know what needs to be done but won’t do it. So, I shall. Mother and Sheila will not mind.”

  “I don’t wish to know anything more,” Mrs. Echworth hurriedly stuck in.

  “Nor I,” Sheila said.

  “Then keep your ears covered and your eyes averted, for Mary will not survive the week!”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It was nearly midnight when the viscount arrived at his seaside habitat. He lit the torch, and then began unsaddling his horse. The stallion seemed cool enough, so he led him to his roped off bedding, saw to his water and hay, then put away his saddle and reins.

  He plopped heavily down on his thick straw bed and lay back against his pillow, silently thanking Epps for all that he provided for him.

  He found he couldn’t sleep, so he propped his hands behind his head and stared at the shadows on the cave wall.

  He had seen no signs that Ness had visited his cave during his absence. If she had, she had not left him a note. Would she ever acknowledge him again when he got out of this mess?

  Confound it all! Bloody hell! How had he allowed the woman to get under his skin like this? He was up on his feet again. He walked to his cave entrance. It was a sultry night and even the breeze off the ocean was warm.

  He undid his shirt ties at the neck and unbuttoned it as he pulled it out of his breeches and let it hang. His mind was full with images of Ness, her face alight with humor, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Edward was correct. She had not given him away. She had been honorable about her promise to him, in spite of his cavalier treatment of her.

  He relived his moments with her in her bedroom and closed his eyes.

  It had not produced the results he had wanted. She had looked at him with eyes full of hurt and anger. He had not realized just how ugly his words sounded until he had replayed them in his mind.

  He had wanted her to the point of distraction. He had assumed, from her own conversations, that she was ‘experienced’ in the art of making love. He had not thought her a maiden—did not think it now, and still he wanted her, wanted her for all time!

  Burn it! He was lost in a world that was becoming less sustainable, and thinking of a future with Ness in it. How could he court her when he couldn’t travel by light of day and was wanted for murder?

  And what in blazes had Edward meant about Orson and his Ness? Was Orson actually paying her court? Was she actually interested in the worthless cad?

  Ah, here was the pot calling the kettle black.

  He was, he admitted to himself, a rogue…and now a man hiding from the law. What right had he to think he could have her for his own? None.

  It was at this moment that a sound came to his ears and he flattened himself against the inside wall of the cave entrance. His gun was with his saddle behind him, so he picked up a hefty rock, as he looked to ascertain whether or not the light from the torch would give his shadow away. It did not, but it would shine on whoever entered, as was its purpose.

  Whoever it was tripped over something and voiced an impatient oath, and the viscount came to life. Indeed, before he heard her voice, he had been walking about like a man half-dead.

  He stepped forward and the Naughty Ness let out a small scream before she put a hand over her mouth to stifle herself.

  He saw no smile in her beautiful blue eyes, eyes that made him want to take her into his arms. She drew herself up and regarded him with a businesslike demeanor, which irritated him into making her a mock bow, and as soon as the words were out he wanted to smack himself. “Ah,” he said, “so, you are here. Does the Lady Vanessa once again seek the forbidden?”

  * * *

  Ness stamped her foot. He infuriated her. “Drop that rock so that I may tell you how very despicable you are!” She decided that she should immediately leave and started to turn.

  He took hold of her arm. “No…don’t go, stay, Ness, please. Forgive my wayward tongue. It does not betray me, but makes a fool of me.”

  She hesitated. What did he mean by that, precisely? She wasn’t sure and she eyed him suspiciously but relented. “Very well.” She had, during their exchange, dropped her horse’s reins, but her mare had trotted inside the cave and had gone immediately to Midnight, where the stallion grunted and nuzzled her.

  Ness and the viscount both laughed, easing the tension of the moment. They took a moment to watch the mare pick at some of Midnight’s dinner.

  She walked over to her mare and said, “Here now, Shadow, let me loosen your saddle and make you more comfortable.”

  Done with settling her horse, she turned and found the viscount towering over her. She stood frozen for a moment, taken by his nearness.

  He stepped back and Ness immediately moved away from the straw bed, only a couple of feet away. Why had she come here? To update him on the information she had discovered from Bess Widdons and to tell him Duncan was in town and Mary was safe because of the brilliant codicil to his will, giving Lady Penrod guardianship over Mary.

  But his nearness was all too confusing. Finding herself here with him, with his glorious broad chest exposed, with his dark penetrating eyes beating a path to her heart, being alone and feeling free to be with him, close to him, was thrilling, more thrilling than anything else in her life. She had feelings for this man—deep, genuine feelings, but how could she? She didn’t really know him. In addition to those feelings was the fact that her body screamed for him. He made her feel like a wanton woman and if she looked into herself, she knew exactly what she wanted—him, all of him.

  He said, “You must be warm with that cloak so tightly wrapped around you. Allow me.” He reached and in one fluid movement had it unclasped and off her shoulders.

  She wore a loose boy’s white, slightly yellowed with age, shirt. He smiled to think it probably had been her brother’s at one time. Over her perfectly shaped legs were tightly fitted breeches. On her feet, covering most of her calves, were well worn riding boots.

  He looked her over slowly and smiled. She put up her chin. “I am sorry if my mode of dress doesn’t conform to the traditional. I wear what is expedient and let us understand something, my lord, I don’t give a jot for your good opinions. Those who know me could not, would not think poorly of the way I dress or live my life. I came here because there is much that has happened today that will affect your future. I don’t owe you this visit, I don’t owe you the benefit of the doubt, but I have allowed you both. I think your sister is a jewel worth saving and in order to ‘save’ her, I need must prove your innocence. She believes in it and so do I. It is my intention to clear the good name of Montlaine and that alone is why I am here this night.”

  He inclined his head as though abashed.

  She was suspicious of it, more so when he spoke.

  “I suppose I must thank you, and I do.”

  She so loved the way his silky black hair fell over his forehead and had the absurd urge to run her fingers through its glorious waves. She blinked as she silently berated herself. She must remember how arrogant, how rude…how much she…liked him.

  Indeed, she liked him. In spite of everything…and that like bordered on love. It was impossible. How could she love someone she did not know? Why did she feel that she knew him right into the spirit that moved his heart?

  “Don’t apologize,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. “It would not be in keeping with the façade you wish to promote.”

  He smiled. “My lady’s tongue is as sharp as her eyes are bright…both pierce me to the quick.”

  She laughed. “Right then, shall we banter the night away, or shall I tell you why I am here?” />
  He chuckled and then slid his arm around her as he pulled her in close. “Do, my Naughty Ness, my sweetheart, tell me why you are here.”

  She wanted him to kiss her like he had the other night. She wanted his hands to roam all over her, even though they weren’t married, even though it went against the ‘mores’ of her time. Society would label her a tart if they knew. A thousand and one little voices screamed that this time she was going too far and might not ever recover.

  She wanted him in ways she was sure did, in fact, make her a tart. Oddly enough, the notion made her smile.

  She wanted to give her hands the freedom to roam over his hard, oh so desirable body. Yes, she wanted!

  Eyes wide open, she told herself, but the words that came out of her mouth surprised her. “I am not your sweetheart.”

  “Are you not? Look at me, Ness. Look into my eyes and tell me what you see,” he said simply. “Admit to yourself that you are the sweetheart I am determined to have and no other.”

  “Stop!” She pulled away but felt his hand still touching, still ready to draw her into him. “My lord, I am here because of what I have to tell you. The information is complicated and I am not certain how I shall begin, but I must begin. Please, don’t distract me with your…er, flirting,” she said earnestly.

  He released her and gave her his back as he sprawled upon his straw bed, leaned onto one bent elbow, and looked at her and said, “Very well then, if you have something to tell me, sit, be comfortable, and tell me all.”

  She sighed, but plopped down, drew up her knees to her chin for a moment, eyed him, and shook her head. “I honestly don’t know where to start…there is so much.”

  “Start at the beginning and then take me through it to this moment. Start with your morning yesterday. I can tell you mine was wrought with self-recrimination.” He eyed her, then added with a wry curl of his lip, “Time is fleeting, and we wouldn’t want you to risk wasting your valuable time sparing whatever concerns you think your information will give me.”