Regency for all Seasons: A Regency Romance Collection

by Mary Lancaster

Blessed saints! A duke’s son? And not just any duke, merely one of the most powerful men on this sceptered isle. How in heaven did his offspring get sent off as a cabin boy? “My lord, the pleasure is all mine,” Romulus said, quite impressed by the poise of this nine-year-old who had a thick mass of curly blond hair and green eyes the hue of an English meadow in summer.

  “Thank you.” He cast Romulus a nod of acknowledgment. “Lord Admiral Melville speaks quite highly of you. I look forward to sailing with you on The Plover.”

  Was the lad a tiny forty-year-old in disguise? He’d never met a child who appeared so grown up. As the boy was escorted out of the war room to bid farewell to the governess who had brought him down from Castle Easingwold, just north of York, the Lord Admiral gave him a quick account. “He’s the fifth and youngest son of Buchan, sired by the duke and his second wife.”

  “And she sent him away?” He could not comprehend why a mother would wish to be rid of such a boy.

  “Wife number three has insisted he be sent away. The boy’s mother, wife number two, died in childbirth when he was born.”

  Romulus felt a tug to his heart. “Poor lad.” Violet would be beside herself to fuss over him. Indeed, the Farthingales might quite suffocate the boy with love, something he doubted Innes had ever experienced. Certainly not a mother’s love, and certainly not from his stepmother.

  “The duke loves the boy, but he cannot have him underfoot right now.”

  “What about preparatory school? The boy is old enough.”

  “His father would like him to experience life aboard a ship. I suspect he wishes to groom the lad as a future First Lord Admiral,” he said with a wry smile.

  Romulus nodded. “The country will be fortunate to have him leading the Royal Navy.”

  “I heartily agree. So, try to keep him alive and uninjured, Brayden. He’ll be sent to Eton when he’s older, but for now, he is all yours.”

  The boy walked back in the room.

  “Come along, my lord. My wife is eager to meet you. She’ll have lemonade and ginger cake waiting for us. Do you like ginger cake?”

  The boy nodded, his blond curls bobbing with vehemence. “My favorite.”

  Romulus decided it was a good thing he’d been ordered to take charge of the boy today.

  Violet melted at the sight of him and had to struggle to hold back her tears when Romulus took her aside a moment to tell her of the boy’s circumstances.

  “It is unpardonable the duchess would insist on sending him away,” she whispered.

  “She views him as a threat. Perhaps the duke sees too much of his second wife in the boy. I suspect his second marriage was a love match. Wife three does not wish to compete with that.”

  “How is this the boy’s fault? The duke might grow to love her if she showed love toward his son.”

  Romulus kissed her on the forehead. “Then she’d be you, and the duke would fall hopelessly in love.”

  She rolled her eyes and tsked. “My lord,” she said, turning to the boy, “would you care for more ginger cake?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  Once Innes had finished, she asked him if he enjoyed playing marbles. When his eyes lit up, she went next door and came back a few moments later with two boys slightly younger than Innes. “These are my cousins, Charles and Harry. They are champion marbles players.”

  Charles held up a pouch and rattled it. “I have aggies and alleys, and shooters and taws.”

  “Any mibs and ducks?” Innes asked quite seriously.

  Harry, the youngest, nodded. “Bumblebees and jaspers, too. Charles has them all.”

  “Bumblebees,” Romulus remarked, grinning over their heads toward Violet. “Those are my favorite.”

  The boys played for over an hour, stretched flat on their stomachs on the parlor floor and rising only to grab a milk biscuit or currant scone before dropping to their knees for another round of marbles.

  By six o’clock, Charles and Harry were returned next door, escorted by Violet and a footman.

  Romulus took the opportunity to ask Innes if he’d like to remain at home under the care of the Mayhew girls, or come with him and Violet to the Royal Society hall. “My wife and I would be delighted if you joined us. But the choice is entirely yours.”

  “Truly? She won’t find me inconvenient?”

  “Not at all. In truth, she’ll probably miss you and worry about you if you don’t join us.”

  His eyes lit up. “She would? Then may I go with you, Captain Brayden?”

  “Yes, my lord. You are most welcome.” Bollocks, the boy tore at his heart.

  By seven o’clock, Romulus and Innes were standing in the entry hall, waiting for Violet to descend the stairs. When she did, the blood rushed into Romulus’s head…and lower, of course, because his low brain had taken control again.

  Young Innes gaped at Violet, his jaw dropping and his eyes about to pop out of their sockets. “Is she an angel?”

  “She certainly looks like one, doesn’t she?”

  Innes nodded.

  Hell, if a nine-year-old boy could fall in love with her on sight, how would the grown men in the audience respond? He was glad the wildebeests would be joining them. He’d position them in a line in front of the stage to catch any fools who attempted to run onto it.

  As for him, he’d do his best to keep an eye on Forester and his sister, although it would be harder to do now that Innes was coming with them. He’d draw Finn aside and issue another warning about that pair.

  Finn would be angry with him, for the caution would be taken as an insult. He’d apologize to his cousin afterward.

  He took Violet’s arm and helped her into the carriage, then gave the lad a boost in. Romulus took the bench opposite them, stifling a smile at the look of wonder on Innes’s face. Of course, the boy was staring at Violet, and she was smiling back at him, a lovely, openhearted smile that would shoot straight to any man’s heart.

  He suddenly became wistful.

  He would be leaving for Cornwall shortly, leaving Violet behind. They’d coupled often enough that she might be carrying his child. They would not know it for some time yet. But in watching her gentle manner with Innes, his love for her swelled. She’d be a good, kind mother to their children.

  He gave silent thanks for whatever had brought them together. Those bees. The Book of Love everyone was beginning to believe was magical. The tiny termagant, Lady Withnall. Perhaps all three played a part in uniting him with Violet.

  He supposed it did not matter.

  Whatever the reason, he was grateful for it.

  Now all he needed was this night to pass without incident. Why were the short hairs on the back of his neck still spiking in alarm?

  Chapter Nineteen

  A crowd was already gathering in front of the Royal Society by the time Romulus’s carriage drew up to the building. However, the carriage was steered to a spot toward the back of the hall, and they were all escorted inside through a side entrance that led down the small passageway directly to the ancient relics room where Violet and Innes would remain until her performance began.

  The relics room, as the Duke of Lotheil had promised, now contained a settee and small table. Atop the table was a pot of tea and several cups. “How thoughtful of the duke,” Violet said. “Would anyone like tea?”

  “No, love. But I shall pour you a cup if you wish to have some. How about you, Innes?”

  “I’m fine, Captain. None for me.”

  Violet nodded. “Nor for me. I can’t put anything in me so close to my recital time or I’ll be belching out the songs.” She then belched a few notes.

  Innes thought her antics hilarious.

  He exchanged a glance with Violet, loving her more for this. She wanted the boy to laugh.

  Innes now looked at her in adoration.

  Romulus understood why. Here was an angel who could belch. What more could a man want in a woman?

  “Love, I’m going to see what’s going on in the grand hal
l. Innes, do you want to come with me?”

  His eyes grew wide. “May I?”

  “Yes, of course. But stay close to me. The hall will be packed by now, and the First Lord Admiral will not be pleased with me if I lose you.” As much as Violet liked the boy, Romulus knew she needed a moment alone to concentrate on her performance and do whatever throat exercises one did in preparation…or whatever one did before walking on to the stage, ready to appease a hungry audience.

  To his dismay, he realized he did not even know which songs she was going to sing. The list had been planned between Violet and the Foresters, but she had told him which songs and it now escaped him.

  Not that the song list mattered much. What mattered was that she had told him, and he had forgotten. He’d been so caught up in Admiralty matters, he’d dismissed this recital as unimportant.

  Yet, Violet was the most important thing to him. How could he have shown such lack of interest? He felt worse because she had never once called him to task for it.

  He shook out of the thought and concentrated on locating the Foresters amid the crowd. He couldn’t see them, but they had to be in here somewhere. He knew they’d arrived ahead of him and Violet.

  He expected to find Jameson Forester front and center, taking all the accolades for himself. He led Innes in a turn about the hall before going out front to where Violet’s cousins and their husbands were collecting the entrance donations. Finn would likely be with them, and wherever Finn was, Lady Rawley was certain to be close by.

  He quickly introduced Innes to Dillie and Daisy and their husbands, then asked them about Finn. “Have you seen him?”

  Daisy nodded. “Our box was full, so we gave him the receipts taken in so far. He went to place them in the vault in the relics room.”

  “He went alone?”

  Ian frowned. “He’s a big, hulking Brayden. Who is going to mess with him?”

  “Besides,” Gabriel added, “the hall is a crush. Perhaps there are a few pickpockets about, but no one is going to steal the donations in front of a hundred people.”

  “Lady Rawley accompanied him,” Dillie said.

  “Christ! And where’s Forester? Have any of you seen him?”

  Ian’s frown deepened. “Not in a while. He was here earlier, but–”

  “Innes, stay here. I’ll be right back for you.” But Innes clung to his hand and wouldn’t release it, no doubt petrified he was about to be abandoned again.

  “Come, Lord Innes,” Dillie said gently, “take the seat between me and Daisy. You can help us take in the last of the donations. I promise you, Captain Brayden will return shortly.”

  Romulus shouldered his way through the crowd and back to the relics room the moment Innes let go of his hand. He heard Ian calling behind him. “What’s going on?”

  Romulus briefly confided his concerns about the Foresters. “I could be wrong.”

  “I hope you are. Tell you what, I’ll check around back.”

  “Alone? I know your feats of valor are legendary, Your Grace. But your wife will mutilate me if any harm befalls you. Are you armed?”

  He nodded. “To the teeth. You can’t tell by looking at me, can you? My tailor is quite talented. Hidden sheathes for daggers, pistols, garrote, manacles. I’ll give you his name, if you like.”

  “Lord, I’m glad you’re on our side.” He saw his cousins, Ronan and Joshua, standing close by. “Take them with you.”

  “Gad, they’re big fellows. Any runts in the Brayden litter?”

  Romulus grinned. “I’m the runt.”

  He quickly explained the matter to his cousins and hurried to the relics room. If the Foresters planned to steal the donations, now would be the best time to do it. The Farthingales were at the front door collecting the entrance fee. The Braydens were in the grand hall, ready to protect Violet when she took the stage.

  If he were Forester, he would grab whatever he could while everyone was occupied. The Foresters would not get all, of course. More would come in after Violet’s recital. But they would get the thousands of pounds already brought in. Finn would turn over the donations without hesitation if the Foresters had pistols trained on Violet.

  Violet. The thought she might be injured sent his heart pounding through his ears. Stay safe, love. Don’t resist. Let them take it all.

  The narrow hallway leading to the relics room was dark. Someone had put out the candles mounted on the wall sconces, for they had been lit when he’d left with Innes moments earlier.

  He crept along in darkness, hardly breathing. Hardly daring to make a sound for fear it would cost Finn and Violet their lives. The laughter and general buzz of chatter filtered in from the grand hall. This area had been closed off, so he knew no one else would saunter down here. He was quite alone in this passageway and preferred it. He did not want the Foresters to panic and do something desperate.

  He dared not simply burst into the room. Instead, he leaned his ear against it, hoping to hear something and locate the positions of Forester and his sister, Lady Rawley. If he could hear what they were saying, he could determine if they had pistols trained on Finn and Violet.

  But all was quiet.

  Then he heard a pistol shot and burst in like a raging bull, his only thought to shelter Violet and praying hard that she had not been injured…or worse. His gut twisted. Finn was lying motionless on the floor, and Violet was struggling with Lady Rawley and Forester. Pound notes were flying in the air, and some had already landed on the floor, now strewn all over place.

  He realized immediately what had happened.

  Violet—and he was going to give her a good talking to when the recital was over—had grabbed an ancient spear and used it to knock the box of donations out of Lady Rawley’s hands. She was now swinging that spear wildly as Lady Rawley was trying to grab it away.

  As Forester raised his pistol to aim it at Violet, Romulus grabbed the blackguard and flung him across the room, hearing the crack of bone as he slammed into the opposite wall hard enough to leave him dazed. His pistol had fallen from his hands, and Romulus hastily picked it up.

  Then he grabbed Lady Rawley. She tried to hit him with her pistol, but that meant she had been the one to spend her shot. On Finn, obviously.

  He handed Forester’s loaded weapon to Violet. “Keep it aimed at Forester. If he stirs, shoot him. I’ll be right back.”

  Violet set the spear back on its mount and turned breathlessly to Romulus. “Where are you going?”

  “I sent Ian and my cousins out back. They must be there by now. If there are more ruffians waiting outside, I don’t want you anywhere near them.” But he still held on to Lady Rawley. She was struggling against him with all her might, although rather uselessly. All she could do was flail at him with her gloved fists.

  He did not like the idea of carrying a woman into a possible fight, assuming one was going on out back. But neither could he leave her with Violet. And she’d been the one to shoot Finn.

  He wanted to break the woman’s neck. He might have, had he not blamed himself more for getting Finn involved in the first place. But as his rage was mounting, and he truly feared he would snap this woman’s neck, Finn chose that moment to groan and attempt to rise.

  He’s alive. Blessed saints.

  Romulus wanted to weep with relief. “Stay where you are, Finn. Help is on the way. Violet is safe.”

  Finn nodded. “Hurts like blazes. It’s only my shoulder. But someone cracked me over the head…or I hit my head when I fell. I don’t know.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We’ll sort it all out afterward. Lie still. It isn’t quite over yet.” He carefully opened the back door.

  In the moonlight, he could make out a carriage. As his eyes adjusted better to the dim light, he saw that Ronan had the driver subdued. Joshua was holding on to a woman who was trying to kick him as she hurled epithets at him.

  He recognized the sound of her voice. “Damn it, Felicia. What lunacy possessed you to get involved with these fools?”


  She turned to him with open hatred in her gaze. “You bastard! You humiliated me.”

  “How? By marrying Violet?” He did not bother to hear her answer, for Finn was wounded, hopefully only a shoulder wound. “Ian,” he said quietly, not sure how to break the news of their brother being shot to Ronan or Joshua just yet, “fetch George Farthingale and bring him to the relics room as fast as you can. Finn’s hurt. And then summon the Duke of Lotheil to take care of these three and Forester.”

  He wasn’t certain what to do with Lady Rawley who was still in his arms and had now joined Felicia in cursing him. The widow of a marquis and the wife of a viscount tossing out insults like the bawdiest bawds in any seedy dockside tavern. He’d laugh if this haughty pair hadn’t caused so much damage.

  He turned to his cousins. “Can I trust you to watch all three of them?” He wanted to be rid of Lady Rawley so he could hurry back to Violet. He’d been gone less than a minute, but it would only take a matter of seconds for Forester to do something rash. He didn’t think Violet had it in her to shoot him if he lunged at her. But that bastard would not hesitate to shoot her if he got his hands back on his weapon.

  “We’ll watch them,” Joshua assured.

  Romulus hurried back.

  Violet still had the pistol aimed at Forester.

  “I’ll take that, love.” He eased it from her tense grasp. “Your Uncle George has been sent for. He’ll tend to Finn.”

  “I think you broke Jameson’s collarbone when you hurled him against the wall. He ought to treat him as well.”

  “He will, after Finn.”

  Ian came in a moment later. “Lotheil’s men are taking care of the driver and the ladies. I’ll have them take Forester as well.”

  “No, he’s injured. Uncle George should tend to him before he’s removed,” Violet said, her voice and hand obviously trembling.

  Ian glanced at Romulus. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Busted collarbone.”

  Ian nodded. “I can fix that. Done it often enough during the war.” He strode toward Forester and helped him out of his jacket. Then with a brief warning to “hold still,” he worked the bone back in place.