The Danger in Tempting an Earl

by Sophie Barnes

  “I’m thinking we should name him after Gavin,” Patrica said, her eyes meeting Lucien’s for the briefest of moments before she looked at her husband. “If you agree.”

  “I can’t think of a better namesake,” Gray said.

  Lucien felt his heart squeeze with a rough onslaught of emotion. “Our brother would have been honored by the gesture.”

  Patricia nodded. “I didn’t have the opportunity to tell you last night, Lucien, but I’m so pleased that you’re marrying Kate. It’s important to make the most of the time we’ve been graced with. I’m glad to know that you are making the most of yours.” Her words grew heavier as she spoke, and she eventually closed her eyes. “Now, if you’ll both forgive me, I’m extremely tired and would like to get some rest.”

  Wishing his sister a speedy recovery, Lucien went to the door while Gray kissed his wife and whispered a few endearments to her. “Lady Roxberry?” he asked when the dowager countess made no move to leave along with him and Lucien.

  “If you don’t mind, I should like to remain here so I can watch over her.” Her voice was full of emotion. “I can sit just over there without disturbing anyone.”

  Nodding, Gray allowed the request, taking his leave of the two women as he exited his wife’s bedchamber. “Will you join me for luncheon, Roxberry? It’s almost time, and I’d appreciate the company,” Gray said as they headed back downstairs.

  Torn between Gray’s request and the desire to return home so he could check on Katherine, Lucien paused with indecision. “Thank you,” he finally said, “but I—­” Knock, knock!

  “I wonder who that can be,” Gray murmured as they arrived at the bottom of the stairs. They paused there while the butler went to open the door.

  A muffled exchange could be heard in the entryway beyond, then the butler returned. “Lord Starkly has arrived, my lord. May I show him in?”

  A pained expression settled upon Gray’s face. He was clearly in no mood to entertain Starkly and was probably considering denying him entry. “I believe he’s here to see me,” Lucien said. “When I hurried over here, he promised he’d check on Lady Crossby. I’m sure he only means to assure me that all is well.”

  Gray sighed. “Very well then, show him in—­we’ll be in the library,” he said, addressing the butler. Turning away, he started toward the room in question. “Come along, Roxberry.”

  Seating himself in a deep leather armchair, Lucien watched as Gray poured himself another brandy. He’d offered Lucien one as well, but Lucien had declined, considering it too early in the day for that sort of thing. He wasn’t about to stop Gray though—­Lord knew the man probably needed to dull his senses. The bottle was readily available.

  “Roxberry isn’t in much of a drinking mood this morning, but perhaps I can convince you, Lord Starkly?” Gray announced the moment Starkly was shown into the room.

  Coming to a halt, Starkly looked at Gray, frowned and finally said, “I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather not.” Accepting that he must drink alone, Gray replaced the stopper on the brandy carafe and swept his arm toward the area where Lucien was sitting. “Then by all means, have a seat.”

  “Thank you, but I prefer to stand, since I doubt I’ll be staying long.” Starkly looked directly at Lucien, who’d leaned forward in his seat, not liking the earl’s tone one bit. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to arrive, but finding an available hackney took longer than I’d expected. I regret to tell you that when I finally did arrive at your home, Lady Crossby was not there.”

  “What?” Lucien was on his feet in a heartbeat. “Are you quite sure?”

  “Your butler says he saw her step out into the street and climb into a hackney, so yes, I’m quite sure.”

  “Did he tell you where the blazes she was going?” What the devil was she thinking? She wasn’t a simpleton, for Christ’s sake, and ought to know better—­especially after everything that had happened. Clearly she’d taken leave of her senses.

  “I was hoping you would be able to tell me that, Roxberry, since your butler informed me that she’d decided to come here after receiving the same news you did about your sister.” Raking his fingers through his hair, Starkly muttered an oath. He turned to Gray. “Forgive me for barging in like this. I hope things are not as bad as I feared. Your wife . . . is she—­”

  “She is presently resting with my son,” Gray said as he took a large gulp of his drink.

  “Then I must congratulate you, Lord Gray,” Starkly said.

  Gray nodded his thanks and said, “But what of Lady Crossby? She’s not here, and I daresay she would have arrived by now if she was the first to be informed of Lady Gray’s condition.”

  “I’m going to file a missing person report right away,” Lucien said, already heading toward the door. “And then I’m going to insist that every available runner in London starts searching for her.”

  Gray looked a little stunned. “I’m sure she’ll show up soon enough. I mean, even with the threat against her taken into account, I doubt she’s in any real danger at present. After all, if you were meeting with Donovan before coming here, then he’s unlikely to have gone after Lady Crossby, and since Lady Trapleigh has been detained at Cresthaven, she can hardly be much of a threat.”

  “You’re probably right,” Lucien said, “yet I can’t help feeling as though something is horribly wrong. As you say, she should have been here by now if this was her destination.” His stomach twisted and his heart thumped. He should have taken Katherine with him when he went to meet with Starkly. What had he been thinking, letting her out of his sight for even a second?

  A loud banging sound came from the hallway, accompanied by the clicking of heels upon the polished parquet. “Sounds like you’re being invaded,” Starkly said.

  Voices sounded, followed by a quick succession of footsteps, as if someone was running while another person was hurrying after them. The three men stood, frozen, as a flurry of billowing fabric appeared in the doorway. Lucien stared as a woman burst into the room without as much as a by-your-leave.

  Before him stood Katherine, and as relief weakened his limbs, he was spellbound by the wild beauty that graced her as she stood there gasping for breath, her hair tumbling over her shoulders and her crumpled gown in slight disarray. In her right hand, she held a pistol. “How is she?” she asked, eyes wide as she looked at Gray. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, but I—­”

  “Forgive me, my lord,” Gray’s butler announced as he came up behind her, “but I tried to tell her to wait. She wouldn’t hear of it, however, and pushed straight past me. I must say it was rather unexpected—­took me completely by surprise.”

  “It’s quite all right,” Gray said. “We were actually hoping that Lady Crossby would arrive. Weren’t we, gentlemen?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Lucien said, exceedingly happy that Katherine was standing there before him in the flesh, yet anxious to discover what had happened. And where on earth had she gotten the pistol from? Stepping forward, he took her hand in his own and led her over to one of the chairs, where he encouraged her to sit. Once she had done so, he carefully pried the pistol out of her grasp and handed it to Gray. “Tell me everything,” he whispered as he crouched before her.

  “It was dreadful, Lucien. I should have listened to you, but I was a fool and so terribly worried when the footman came looking for you with news about your sister.” Reaching out, she caught hold of Lucien’s arm and pierced him with her eyes. “Please tell me she’s all right.”

  “She has given birth to a son,” Lucien said, unwilling to delve into the details at the moment, since Gray seemed blissfully distracted by Katherine’s arrival. “She’s resting right now, but I’m sure she’d love to see you later. Until then, why don’t you tell me what happened? Why did it take you so long to get here?”

  Katherine took a deep, shuddering breath. “I hailed a hackney in
front of your house and climbed in to find Lady Trapleigh waiting for me.”

  Lucien stilled. “Lady Trapleigh? You mean she’s here? In London?” Anger rose inside him. He clenched his fists. By God he would have to have a word with Katherine’s butler for failing to inform him of this.

  Katherine nodded. “There was a man with her—­an accomplice of sorts.”

  “Did they hurt you?” Lucien asked as he squeezed her hand. When she flinched, he looked down to find the wound on her palm. Wild fury rushed through him, hot and fierce.

  “No,” she said, her eyes holding his. “I cut myself on a piece of glass when I tried to escape.”

  “They held you captive?” Lucien felt his throat tighten at the very thought of it.

  Katherine nodded. “They took me to Lady Trap­leigh’s . . .” She stopped herself, straightened her back and tilted her chin a notch before saying, “ . . . trysting place.”

  “Good Lord!” all three men exclaimed in unison as they stared back at her, wide-eyed.

  Katherine couldn’t decide whether they looked utterly uncomfortable with her mention of such a thing or if they might be intrigued. Whatever the case, their interest only grew as she related the rest of her story.

  “Bravo!” Lord Gray exclaimed as soon as she mentioned hitting her captor with the vase.

  Katherine looked to Lucien, who was watching her with something that could only be defined as deep admiration. “Yes,” he said. “Bravo indeed.”

  “I know where this place is,” Starkly said.

  “Of course you do,” Gray muttered.

  “Perhaps we should go and see if Lady Trapleigh’s accomplice is still there. If we’re lucky, we might find Lady Trapleigh as well,” Starkly continued, ignoring Gray’s comment completely.

  “Lady Crossby comes with us,” Lucien announced. “I’m not leaving her behind this time.”

  “Splendid,” Starkly said, “then I suggest—­”

  “One moment, gentlemen,” Katherine said. “While I understand the need for haste, there is something I would like to look at first. You see, I have brought with me a letter belonging to Lady Trapleigh—­a letter she seemed to be quite protective of. I realize it may be nothing, perhaps merely a note from an admirer . . . but what if it’s not? What if it gives us some answers?” She looked to each of the men in turn. “I think we ought to read it before we do anything further.”

  “Then open it,” Lucien urged her, encouraging her with a smile.

  “Yes, do hurry,” Starkly added. “I’m quite eager for the opportunity to chase after those villains.”

  “Trying to atone for all your sins?” Gray asked.

  Starkly nodded. “Something like that.”

  Acquiescing, Katherine plucked the folded piece of paper from the pocket of her pelisse and handed it to Lucien, who immediately unfolded it and started to read. Was it just her imagination, or was he growing paler by the second? He flipped the page over to see if there was anything on the back, clearly unsatisfied with what the letter contained.

  “Well?” Gray asked. “What does it say?”

  Lucien opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Eventually he handed the letter to Starkly. Katherine rolled her eyes and groaned. This was growing tedious. She ought to have read it herself.

  “By Lucifer’s . . . ahem . . . forgive me, my lady.” Starkly looked mildly embarrassed. “What I meant to say was, this is extremely unexpected.”

  “Would one of you please tell me what that letter says? I’m about to expire from the suspense of it all, and if you’ll only look at poor Lord Gray, it seems he’s faring no better,” Katherine exclaimed.

  “You hit it on the nail, my dear,” Lord Gray said, saluting her with his half-empty glass of brandy.

  “I think you ought to sit down for this, Katherine,” Lucien said.

  She lost her patience with him then. “I am sitting down!”

  “Right. Sorry. I think perhaps this letter has addled my brain.” He handed it to her. “Here, perhaps you ought to read it yourself, because if this is to be believed, it appears as though the man who’s to blame for Lady Trapleigh’s attempts on your life is already dead and buried.”

  “He’s what?” Katherine asked, her gaze dropping to the signature at the bottom of the page. Her heart practically stopped. There, accompanied by his seal, was Charles’s name, scrawled in his own hand. It took a moment for her brain to accept, and then, desperate to understand the meaning of it all, she started to read.

  My dearest lady,

  As I lie here, consumed by sickness and awaiting nothing but death, my only thoughts are of you and our son. It is my hope that you will one day find it in your heart to forgive me for the choices I have made, but you know as well as I that I had to marry her. Revenge, however, is not as sweet as I had hoped, but rather bitter, as it turns out. If only I had been capable of letting go of my anger, my resentment and my hate, then perhaps we could have been happy together. As it is, my efforts have been in vain—­sooner or later, my wife’s lapdog will return to England, and I will have no say in what happens next. If there is one thing I cannot bear, it is the thought of him winning her, but you know this well enough already, for I have spoken to you about it on numerous occasions. Unfortunately, it is too late for regrets. Stay strong, my love, and look after our boy.

  Yours always,

  Charles Langdon

  Katherine read the letter again. She looked up at Lucien. “If I understand this correctly, my late husband had an ulterior motive for marrying me—­one that was so important to him that he sacrificed his own happiness.”

  “That seems to be the gist of it,” Lucien agreed.

  “But that’s ludicrous!”

  “I’m assuming you’re the lapdog in all of this,” Starkly said, addressing Lucien.

  “I suppose I must be, though I don’t understand where all of this animosity is coming from. We grew up not far from each other, you see, attended Eton together and were later enlisted in the same regiment. I confess I never cared much for the man, not even when we were children. He had a competitive streak that bordered on the obsessive, not to mention an arrogant attitude that always raked my nerves, but it never occurred to me that he harbored such resentment toward me.” Lucien frowned. “Perhaps Lady Trapleigh can enlighten us further if we manage to catch her. Thank you for your hospitality, Gray, but we really must be on our way now. If there’s anything you need—­anything at all—­please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Give her ladyship my love,” Katherine added, looking at Gray, “and tell her that I will call on her as soon as possible.”

  Lucien, Starkly and Katherine exchanged a few more words with Gray, then headed back out into the street, where they hailed a hackney, directing it toward the same area from which Katherine had fled only one hour earlier.

  “Well blast it all, he’s gone!” Lucien said as he stared at the vacant spot on the floor where Lady Trapleigh’s accomplice was supposed to have been. “And there’s no sign of Lady Trapleigh either, is there?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Katherine said.

  “Surely there must be a way in which to correct this disaster.” Raking his hand through his hair, Lucien turned to Starkly. “If I were Lady Trapleigh, I think I’d make a run for it. She knows Lady Crossby will have told us what happened and what the consequences will be once we catch her. It’s likely that she will attempt to flee the country. Can you head over to the Home Office? Once you explain what’s transpired, I’m sure that someone will arrange for the roads leaving London to be watched, though I do suggest that you ask them specifically to do so—­the ports too for that matter. I doubt she’ll return to her estate, but you never know—­perhaps you should tell them to check there as well.”

  “I’ll see to it right away,” Starkly said. He eyed Katherine. “I hope you can someday f
orgive me for not doing more in order to help you.”

  “As I’ve recently discovered, you did more for me than I ever would have expected. It is I who should ask your forgiveness for thinking the worst of you all this time.”

  Starkly grinned. “I daresay it was an unavoidable mistake, given my reputation.”

  With a bow, he took his leave.

  “We ought to get going as well,” Lucien said as he took Katherine by the hand. “You’ve had quite the ordeal today—­I’d like to take you home so you can rest.”

  Rest. Yes, that was precisely what she needed on top of that morning’s activities. And perhaps something to eat as well. It was past noon, and she was beginning to feel rather peckish. After all, she hadn’t even had the glass of water she’d requested earlier. Passing it on the way out of the apartment, she said, “Sounds like a splendid idea.”

  Returning home, they found a letter from Katherine’s butler waiting for them. “It’s from Carter,” Katherine said as she read the missive. “He says that we ought to be aware that Lady Trapleigh escaped last night.”

  Lucien grunted. “I daresay we could have used that information earlier. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have acted so recklessly.” His eyes met hers, and she saw in them the fear he’d had of losing her.

  Katherine wouldn’t argue that she had taken a risk by leaving the safety of Roxberry House, or that it had almost cost her her life, but she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t have done so even if she’d known about Lady Trapleigh. “My only thought was of Patricia, and that I had to try and be there for her—­to help her in whatever way I could and to offer her comfort.”

  “I know,” he said, “and your selflessness is one of your finest qualities, but even you must admit that you should have allowed Parker the time to ready a private carriage.”

  “Fear for your sister’s life made it impossible for me to sit and wait for him to do so. My judgment was clouded by circumstance,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  “All that matters is that you’re safe now,” he said as he pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “If all goes well, Lady Trapleigh and her accomplice will soon be apprehended by the authorities.”