The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  "I want to know, John, will there be any lasting effects from the poison?" he blurted out as soon as he walked into the room.

  Dr. Gold looked up from his paper and motioned his guest to a chair by the fire. "It is hard to say without knowing for certain how much she ingested, or how long it was in her system before she voided it herself. If it was poison. I have to say I'm still not convinced it was poison, son. But I'm confident that she's young and strong, and has made excellent progress today. With rest and proper nourishment, and no more distressing events in her life, I'm confident that she will recover fully in time."

  Clifford sighed with relief, and sat down at last. "I just feel so responsible, John. Guilty, even. I'm convinced he never would have attempted to kill her had it not been for me winning her at cards."

  "Even assuming it was poison, why on earth would you think that?"

  "Because I'm the one man Gerald knows he cannot manipulate or intimidate, Clifford said, leaning forward in the low armchair. He must have been dazzled by all the wealth she inherited. And is desperate to alleviate his own financial plight. He must have been willing to risk killing her as his last chance to get his hands on her fortune. With things all in a state of flux now that her Aunt Agatha is dead, he must have seen an opportunity to claim it for his own."

  Dr. Gold shook his head. "You can't blame yourself for Gerald Hawkesworth's irrational behavior. He would make up any excuse to get her money. So would her two cousins. It really has very little to do with you. If indeed it was poison, it would have been more to do with him regretting having acted impulsively without thinking through how best to use her fortune to his own advantage. He was cornered at the card game, and did the only thing he could think of to avoid bankruptcy and certain social ruin."

  Clifford nodded. "Perhaps you're right. Vanessa did say that she'd warned him that she was to be the new title owner of the house, and was only going to give him a set allowance. And only upon the condition that he behave responsibly from now on. Her scrutinizing his every expense? Examining all of his affairs with her sharp, penetrating mind? That must have pushed him over the edge."

  "We still have no proof," John reminded him in a mild tone. "As Henry said, Peter and Toby were there as well. All of them practically grew up together at Hawkesworth House, remember? Aunt Stephens went through a delicate phase, as it were, after Mr. Hawkesworth remarried. Vanessa's mother ended up with three boys to look after. Vanessa and Paul coming along made five."

  "Yes, Mrs. Stephens' miscarriages were the talk of the neighborhood. The poor woman tried for years for a daughter, and ended up with Paul. I can remember my own dear Mama sympathizing, for she was in a similar position herself. She risked all for a little girl, and died in the attempt," Clifford said morosely.

  Dr. Gold rose from his desk to draw closer to Clifford's chair. "I'm sorry, my dear fellow."

  "Which is why it enrages me that Gerald or indeed either cousin could wish to harm a defenseless young woman simply for the sake of money," he said, raising his voice in a most uncharacteristic manner.

  Dr. Gold blinked. "Clifford, pray do not agitate yourself so. We have no proof that anyone tried to harm her. Alas, sudden death is all too common. We have made advances in medicine and surgery, but there are many things I cannot cure."

  "Well, I will need to get proof then."

  The doctor's kind grey eyes bulged. "How, for Heaven's sake?"

  "Get Geoffrey Branson to search the house for clues?"

  "Out of the question! It would only alert everyone to our suspicions. And Gerald has flown the coop. Far better to wait until he returns from his jaunt."

  Clifford sighed and ran his fingers though his thick blond hair. "Very well. I shall just have to bide my time. But please ensure that if he does have the gall to show up here pretending to be concerned for his sister, that we don't leave him alone with her for an instant."

  "I shall, I promise." Dr. Gold moved to the decanters on the sideboard to pour them each a glass of sherry. He sat back down by the fire next to Clifford and they both sipped appreciatively for a moment in silence.

  Clifford gazed around at the snug room lined with bookshelves full of thick medical tomes. A more safe and ordinary room it would be hard to find. The same would be said of Dr. Gold's entire house. So why did he feel that danger lurked in every corner?

  "I don't think he will show up at this point," Clifford said after a time. "I feel sure he has gone off to London to spend his new-found wealth. And to plot and scheme on what to do next now that she is not actually dead as he had hoped. The trouble will be if he lies low, fearful of the finger being pointed at him. It will be hard to get proof if he starts behaving circumspectly."

  "Especially since you never had any proof before. Anyone could have committed the depredations upon your estate."

  "And what of the molested women?"

  "Millcote Forest is a strange, eerie place. Everyone in the district says so."

  "You must have seen some of the injured women."

  The doctor sighed deeply "They were terrified, and did not wish to speak of their ordeal. They either had no idea who had attacked them, or were too scared to say."

  "Someone must have seen something!" Clifford said with an impatient wave of his hand. "We just need to get one of them to tell us the truth. Even one could help us keep Vanessa safe."

  "It is not the kind of thing these women would wish to either discuss, or have made widely known. It is sad to say, but in our society women are thought so little of that these sort of attacks are perceived as their fault. The temptations of Eve, don't you know. I can tell you that some of the girls were very young, and one of them a most respectable young lady coming back from visiting the poor. She was left pregnant and had to flee the area."

  "Can we find her, do you think?" Clifford asked hopefully. "Even just one witness would be enough to help us arrive at the truth."

  "But not bring Gerald to justice, at least not on that score. It is too long ago, and no decent woman would want to subject herself to a public trial upon such a matter."

  "You say she was respectable, though?" Clifford asked, trying to work out which of the local young girls had left the district within the past couple of years. He had been away in the Army for several years, but still....

  "Indeed, but I have already said too much. I promise to make further inquiries if in turn you will promise me not to probe into this matter. I know the girl is spirited, but terrified of reprisals, or the loss of her child."

  "Loss?"

  The doctor wrung his hands together nervously. "Let us just say that I firmly believe she knows who the man is, and is frightened of him not only for her own sake, but also for that of her son. In case the man should ever try to lay claim to him. Her family has cast her off. She is alone in the world now. I look in upon her from time to time when my travels take me in that direction, and she is trying to rebuild her life, but it is not easy. She does not, well, she does not wish to be disturbed. Found."

  "So she is not far away?"

  "Clifford, please, I have said too much already."

  Clifford pulled out his billfold and emptied it. "Even if she does not give you any information at all, please do persuade her to take this. A growing baby has all sorts of needs all the time."

  "That is very kind of you. She is proud, but not foolish. She will be very grateful. I will explain things as best I can the next time I can get away to see her."

  "Let me know if she needs anything. I'm shocked that her family could cast their own child and grandchild adrift in such a callous manner."

  Dr. Gold sighed. "It's all nonsense. Social standing, appearance, yet they ignore simple Christian charity." He fixed his friend with a long stare. "But just keep in mind that there's a huge difference between rape and murder. Or between vandalism and theft, and poisoning."

  "I know."

  "It's very worthy of you to take such an interest,"' John said, patting him on the shoulder. "We do seem t
o be plagued with more than our fair share of crimes in this small quiet area of the world, do we not. If we include the highwaymen on the London Road, we are indeed a most lawless place."

  Clifford's expression grew thoughtful. "But the crimes have all happened over extended periods of time, and have seemed for the most part to be unrelated except to each other. What if they were related?"

  Dr. Gold pondered this for several moments in silence. "Then I would say it is possible, except that Gerald would be awfully busy. And I would have thought that some time in the last few years he would have made some sort of error."

  "The Bransons will check the records again carefully. He might well have and they did not appreciate it at the time."

  "Well, only time will tell at this point."

  "Yes, but until then, I think it's best to assume the worst."

  The doctor gave a tight smile. "If I were you, I would worry about how you are going to convince her to marry you without telling her the real reasons. That you believe her life is in peril, that Gerald is a dangerous man."

  "I'm not without my charms and personal attributes, John," Clifford said with a slight lift of his chin. "Don't sound so skeptical. She might actually want to marry me for myself, you know."

  "Let's hope so."

  "I shall do more than hope," he said, flashing his friend a bright grin which lit up his whole handsome face. "I shall do my best to win the lady's hand!" With a mocking flourish, he bowed and left.

  Clifford went upstairs to read to Vanessa, and found her in a pensive mood.

  "Are you all right? You seem awfully quiet."

  "I hate being ill. Being forced to rest. It reminds me of when I was a girl and--" She clamped her mouth shut.

  "And?" he prompted softly.

  She shrugged. "Father telling me I needed to rest. That I would only get better if I did."

  "Get better? Were you sickly?"

  She blushed. "No, never, apart from the brain fever."

  Clifford digested this information in silence. She looked so uncomfortable that he decided not to pursue the subject any further. He settled himself in the chair by her side, and read aloud her favorite poetry as she requested, until at last her lids began to droop.

  Malcolm and his sister returned a short time later with some night rails, her robe, and brushes and underclothes from Hawkesworth House, and offered to take a turn sitting with her.

  Clifford went to lie down in the chamber the doctor had assigned to him, but all he could do was toss and turn, thinking of the pain-filled amethyst eyes of the woman who had suddenly begun to mean the world to him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  At two o'clock in the morning, after tossing and turning as if sleeping on a bed of gravel instead of softest goosedown, Clifford could bear it no more and went in to see Vanessa. He relieved the Bransons and Emma was called to sit with him. Clifford spent all of his time staring at the sick woman's pale features.

  Emma said quietly, "I'm so glad she's the one. If I couldn't have you myself, I'm delighted that none of our frivolous acquaintance, and particularly not the loathsome Widow Pearson, got their claws into you."

  Clifford started and blushed. "Emma--"

  "No, really, Clifford, you don't have to say a word. I didn't mean to embarrass you. You have always been so forthright and candid, I felt I should be the same. I really do wish the both of you a world of happiness. If she asks about your character, I shall say nothing less than the truth. That you're the best man I have ever met, though Henry and Malcolm are certainly very close to perfect themselves."

  "I'm far from perfect. But I like to think I at least try to do better every day."

  "Like the characters in Pilgrim's Progress. It always was one of your favorite books."

  "I only hope I've learned all the lessons Christian does in the book."

  "If you haven't already, you shall. I doubt you have so many to learn. You were born wise."

  He laughed shortly. "Well, it was certainly a piece of folly to have gambled for a wife."

  "No it wasn't," she said in a firm tone. "Not when you were trying to protect her good name. Besides, it was fate. The cards fell to you. You won her fairly. You're meant to be together, I just know it. What woman wouldn't love a man as dashing and devoted as you?"

  Clifford said nothing, for he knew he had allowed Malcolm to help him cheat. Why had he done it? Why? But now that he had, he had to keep what was left of his honor.

  They then discussed the new Hancock baby, which was thriving, though her husband had decided to sue for divorce rather than wait for another child.

  "Stephen is a cursed fool. It's not Esther's fault. I shall send her a message saying that as soon as she is well enough to be moved, she can take one of the gatehouses for her own. I can move either Sam or Bill in a trice, as they're not married. It would need to be cleaned out though, and given a few womanly touches, if you and your sister don't mind helping."

  "We don't mind at all. It would be a great kindness to her, and of course, we will be only too glad to be her friend and support her."

  "I can give Esther an allowance, but I can go one better even then that, and let Alistair Grant take her case. He will get every penny out of Stephen that she is entitled to. I only hope it doesn't break the poor woman's heart being cast off in such a cavalier manner, with her only fault being simply having a daughter rather than a son. Marriage is a dashed bad business for women sometimes."

  "But not for Vanessa," Emma said sincerely. "Never fear, I shall see to Esther's welfare. You decide which man should move into the workers' cottages, and I will ensure that all is in readiness for her and the child. I know of a good wet-nurse too, and Josephine shall have one of the men take her around wood and water every day."

  She paused for a moment, and then observed, "It's very good of you to get involved in this way. You know for a fact what the more evil-minded gossips will say. That the baby is yours, and you're only looking after one of your own."

  Clifford shrugged. "I know, but I don't care. There's no one in the world whose opinion I value so much that I would hesitate to do the right thing for fear of their censure."

  "Does that include Vanessa? It's bad enough that Gerald has told lies about you and Widow Pearson, and connected you name with half the women in the district. Any gossip about Esther might convince her that there was some truth in what her brother has said."

  Clifford sighed. "Then she shall simply have to learn of my true character for herself. If she chooses to be angry with me or believe those lies, there's little I can do about it. It will be difficult to build a good marriage with that hanging over our heads. There can be no love and respect without trust. She can place her faith in me or not as she so chooses. But I will not abandon a friend who needs me."

  Vanessa lay quietly with her eyes closed, but she had heard the entire conversation. Nothing Emma had said in front of her apparently unconscious audience coincided in any way with what Gerald had told her about Clifford's supposed immoderate behavior. He seemed the soul of kindness and decency.

  None of what he said could be an act in front of her, could it? Not when he thought her asleep. He seemed to mean every word he said. Emma Jerome obviously thought the world of him, knew him to be a decent man.

  Surely Emma was not a wanton herself? Nothing she had heard or seen could lead her to that conclusion.

  But Gerald? Now there was someone capable of excess, she had to admit. He and his friends.

  She was confused, and in turmoil over the doubts and suspicions creeping into her mind about her brother. Her aunt had always told her to listen to her heart. She had never had anything affect that organ so deeply as the past couple of days in Clifford's presence.

  The truth was that she liked Clifford Stone. Liked him more than any man she had ever met. He moved her to joy, tenderness, even fear at times, but at least he caused her to feel. It was as though she had been completely dead inside until he had snatched her from the jaws of deat
h. She could feel her whole mind light up, her entire body start to quiver whenever he was near. Could feel a lambent dewy moistness between her thighs, a languor flooding her limbs, whenever he was near. She desired him!

  She, who had always fancied herself a bluestocking immune for Cupid's arrows, longed for his as a woman longs for a man! She knew people did the most irrational things in the name of love. But her feelings were so strong, poignant and acute every time he was near. At times she felt she could scarcely breathe, though he had never behaved in a lover-like manner once. Would it be so wrong to marry him?

  That was assuming, of course, that her solicitors approved, Vanessa's more rational side reminded her, lest her new-found feelings get the better of her. The solicitors might be swayed by Gerald into permitting her to become the owner of Hawkesworth House and lift his burdens. On the other hand, perhaps she could persuade them?