Samantha glanced up at Marian’s entrance. Her midnight tresses were up in an elegant chignon with curls framing her beautiful face. Her eyes were a blue so dark they bordered on black. A trait that ran in her family and was passed down generation after generation—her brother, Gregory Cain, the current Earl of Shelby, had them too. They made him almost devilish. Something a lot of ladies in the ton fancied—that, and they all believed they would be the one to bring him to scratch. He was a bigger rogue and scoundrel than Lord Harrington.
“Oh, you’ve returned,” Samantha said as she came to her feet. “Please sit and tell us everything.” She motioned to an empty seat.
“Did Sir Anthony agree to help?” Kaitlin asked. She brushed back one of her golden curls behind her ear. Her blue eyes were the opposite of Samantha’s. They were a brilliant cornflower blue. Kaitlin was the epitome of everything an English gentleman was supposed to want. She was blonde, blue-eyed, and as sweet as the most delicious desserts. Unfortunately, her shyness turned her into a wallflower. Most of the eligible bachelors overlooked her because she didn’t stand out.
Marian shook her head. “He refused.”
“I’m sorry,” Kaitlin said.
“It’s not your fault, Katie,” Marian said softly. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t really expect him to.”
Even if Lord Harrington hadn’t been there, Sir Anthony would still have turned her away. He wasn’t inclined to think females intelligent enough to read, let alone study to become a physician. She shouldn’t have bothered, but she had to try something. How else would she further her education?
“That may be,” Samantha began. “But there might be another way.”
“To become a member?” Marian was confused. There wasn’t any way she could think of that would allow her to join the Royal Medical Society. “That’s not possible.”
“You’re correct,” Samantha said.
“This has nothing to do with those stuffy, opinionated men,” Kaitlin said then grinned. “We heard a rumor about a lady physician who knows even more then all the members of the Royal Medical Society combined.”
“A rumor isn’t the truth,” Marian replied sadly. They meant well, but she couldn’t pin all her hopes and dreams on something that might never come to fruition. There was no mythical female physician that would be able to teach her. “It’s hopeless.” She wanted to keep working toward her dream, but sometimes that was the only option left.
“You don’t understand,” Samantha said. “This is real.”
“No,” Marian replied. “I can’t keep doing this. It’s time to let go.”
Kaitlin bounced in her seat and clapped her hands in a rapid staccato. “You will not do any such thing. You’re going to go to this house party.” She picked up an invitation from a nearby table and waved it at Marian. “The Duchess of Weston will be there, and you will discuss your dreams with her.”
“And why would this duchess deign to listen to anything I have to say?” This was ridiculous. She had to put a stop to it once and for all. “A house party isn’t my thing. I don’t socialize well, you both know that. Besides, I doubt my father would allow me to go. His business keeps him occupied here in London, and he won’t take the time to escort me there.”
“We’ll work that part out later. I’m sure there is someone that can do it—I might be able to talk Shelby into it.”
“My father likes your brother,” Marian said. “But I doubt he’d trust him with my virtue.” Not that she would give in to the rake, but that wouldn’t matter. If she was alone with him for a lengthy carriage ride, her reputation would be ruined. The short distance home with Lord Harrington had been risky too, and she should have found a way to tell him no. She didn’t have a maid as chaperone, and if anyone had seen them… In this one instance, the rain had been her saving grace. Generally, no one in society bothered going out in a heavy downpour.
“I’d accompany you, of course,” Samantha said. “That would make it all above reproach.”
Marian sighed. “I know you both mean well…”
“You can’t say no,” Kaitlin interrupted her. “The duchess is a physician. I know it.”
“How can you possibly?” She hated being difficult—well, at least with her cousin. Kaitlin had a hard life, Marian she didn’t like to add to it. Their family was limited to the two of them, Kaitlin’s brother, Colin, and Marian’s father. They had to stick together. Colin was off at Eton finishing his education and was rarely in residence—so really, for the most part, it was just the two of them. “What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not,” she said. “I overheard the Marquess and Marchioness of Seabrook at a ball. They didn’t realize I was there—no one ever does.”
Poor Kaitlin… “What did they say?” Marian could at least listen to her cousin. “What’s their connection to the duchess?”
“The marchioness is the duke’s sister. They’re family.”
That made a difference. If they were that connected, then they would have inside knowledge to the duchess’s skills. Maybe meeting her wasn’t a bad idea after all. Still, she’d need more information before she made a decision.
“We have you, don’t we?” Samantha said. Her lips tilted upward. “Don’t say a word. I’ll go home and start the process of convincing Shelby to escort us. You, my dear, need to pack for a fortnight in the country.”
“I didn’t say yes,” Marian told her.
“But you will,” Samantha replied. Her voice held a hint of arrogance to it. “I do know how you think, and we snared you with that bit of information. Admit it.”
Marian blew out a breath. “Fine. I am intrigued. What did the marquess and marchioness discuss?”
“They were rather secretive and trying to keep their voices as low as possible,” Kaitlin replied. “But they mentioned she saved her husband’s life once. She performed surgery on him—before they were married. But more importantly, they thought she could help someone they knew who was injured in the same way the duke had been. The marquess didn’t think the duke would be too keen on allowing her to do it.”
“Oh?” This was fascinating. What exactly did the duchess know, and how had she learned it? “What was the injury?”
“A pistol wound,” Kaitlin replied smugly.
Damn… Her heart raced with excitement—so many possibilities... “Fine. You’re both correct—I have to meet her.” She turned to Samantha. “Let me know when you’ve convinced your brother.” Then she met Kaitlin’s gaze. “Will you come too?”
She nodded. “This is your dream, Mary. I want to see you achieve it. I’d love to meet the duchess too.”
“She sounds positively provocative,” Marian replied happily. “I’d love to meet her.”
“I’ll send a missive over once I’ve talked with Shelby,” Samantha said as she stood. “I expect you’ll be ready to leave after it’s all arranged—hopefully he doesn’t take long to convince.”
With those words, Samantha exited the sitting room, leaving Kaitlin and Marian alone. There was a lot to do. The biggest was to convince her father to allow her to travel. She could have her maid start packing while she figured out the best approach. This had to work—it was her last hope.
CHAPTER 3
JONAS WHISTLED as he headed to the club. He’d had a particularly long day and couldn’t wait to unwind with some of his closest friends. Asthey and Shelby would come in at some point. They could decide if they wanted to stay at the club or go for entertainment elsewhere. Sometimes Shelby had to escort his sister to a ball or soiree of some sort. If Jonas and Asthey were feeling generous they might go with him for moral support—or to laugh at his predicament.
Fortunately, he didn’t have a little sister to look after, or any sibling for that matter. It had been a lonely childhood, but at least Jonas could be grateful his grandfather didn’t have anyone else to torture. It was hard enough to protect himself let alone a brother or sister. That was part of the reason Jonas had no desire to marry.
Sure, not giving his grandfather another heir was part of it, but mostly he didn’t want to risk putting a wife or child at risk. They would be a weakness the duke would be more than happy to exploit. It was better for him to remain alone for the rest of his days. At least until his grandfather decided to die and leave Jonas in peace. The old man was fighting until the last breath. He probably knew he was heading to hell and had no desire to enter its fiery depths.
Some days were worse than others. Since the death of his father, Jonas hadn’t had a whole lot of days worth celebrating. Luckily, Charles Lindsay, the Earl of Coventry, had taken an interest in his life. Jonas still didn’t understand why; however, he was grateful for his aid. The Wicked Earls’ Club was his salvation in so many ways. It gave him a brotherhood and beacon of hope. Coventry had been instrumental in helping him build his fortune, and in turn, keeping his grandfather as far away from him as possible. The duke wouldn’t give up easily though and still attempted to make him return to the fold. Something Jonas would never do.
A light wind blew over him as he turned the corner. He quickened his pace as the club came into view. The sun was starting to set in the sky and soon the club would be filled with many of the members in town. Not every earl was in town at once, but even if they were, there was plenty of room for everyone. They didn’t invite just any earl to join. They were all carefully vetted for membership, and if the leader believed them acceptable, he extended the invitation. Coventry was their leader, and his word was final on all new additions to the club.
A crash came from directly behind him. He spun on his heels to figure out what was going on. Asthey had the heel of his Hessian pressed against a ruffian’s chest. The ruffian thrashed around, trying to escape, until Asthey pulled out the pistol he carried and pointed it at the man. “Go ahead. Give me a reason to use this. After the day I’ve had, it’ll make me feel a whole lot better.”
“Please, my lord,” the man begged. “Don’t kill me. I have a family and they need me.”
“Maybe you should have thought about them before you tried to accost my friend.” Jonas’s eyes widened as he listened to the exchange. Had he been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the man? It was possible. After all, he was in a particularly maudlin mood. Turning thirty did that to a man, or so he’d been told. Asthey cocked the pistol while the ruffian started to shake. “Who sent you?”
Jonas closed the distance between them and stared down at the ruffian. “Do we really need to ask? I’m sure we can ascertain who was stupid enough to send someone to hurt me.”
“I wasn’t supposed to cause you any unnecessary harm,” the man said. “He wanted you delivered relatively safe.”
“Is that so?” Jonas lifted a brow. “I suppose that’s true. I haven’t done my duty to beget an heir. He wouldn’t want me to die before doing so.”
“Don’t be so glib,” Asthey nearly growled. “This is your life, and these attacks have to stop.”
Jonas agreed, but he had no idea how to make his grandfather give up on his ludicrous ideas. The man was too persistent and would not leave him be for any given reason. “Why don’t we use the lad here to deliver a message to the old goat?”
“You want me to shoot him and have him delivered to Southington in pieces?”
“How macabre,” Jonas drawled. Asthey wasn’t serious. Oh, he’d shoot the man if necessary, but he didn’t commit murder outright. He had a bad incident a while back that made him skittish around people he didn’t know or trust. Hence the pistol he carried. “I don’t believe we need to go to that extreme.”
“Please don’t kill me.” The man had gone a ghostly white. “I’ll do anything you ask.”
“See, he wants to be of use.” Jonas smiled. A touch of wickedness spread though him, and he couldn’t hold it in even if he wanted to. “If he doesn’t do as we ask, you can always shoot him later.”
“I’d rather do it now,” Asthey replied almost maniacally. “But I can see the wisdom of your plan.” He lifted his boot off of the man slowly. “Don’t run. I’m a crack shot with this particular pistol, and you won’t make it three steps before you feel a ball burning through your chest.”
Jonas shook his head. He owed Asthey a lot for his aid throughout the years. This was one more thing he could add to the list. He’d never be able to fully repay his friends for all they’d done for him.
“What would you like me to do?” the ruffian asked, keeping his hand in the air. Asthey still hadn’t lowered the pistol. “Tell me and I’ll see it done tonight.”
“Go to the duke,” Jonas began. “Tell him about this little chat we’ve had—in detail. The next time he sends someone else to do his dirty work, he won’t be pleased at the results. This is the only warning we will give. I’m done with his games, and this is going to end.”
The duke probably wouldn’t head the warning, but Jonas had to try. Dispatching the many men his grandfather sent hadn’t worked, and it was time to change his strategy. They hadn’t threatened murder and dismemberment to any of them before. Asthey was crazy enough that the man probably believed him capable of it all too.
“And don’t come back here,” Asthey said. “If you do, I’ll take that to mean you liked the attention I gave you tonight.”
The man nodded frantically, then turned and ran as fast as his feet would take him. Jonas laughed as the ruffian disappeared from sight. “Do you think he’ll go to Southington?”
“If he values his life he will,” Asthey replied. “So that is a yes.”
“Thanks for handling him,” Jonas said. “I didn’t realize he was there.”
“Let’s go inside.” Asthey didn’t like anything that was emotional in any way. He wouldn’t acknowledge the thanks, but Jonas understood. It was his way, and they’d been friends long enough to know each other’s deepest darkest secrets.
“After you.” Jonas held out his hand. “You earned it.”
“Are you daft?” Asthey asked. “I’m not letting you out of my sight after that. Get your arse inside.”
Jonas shook his head and headed into the club. Asthey wasn’t far behind him. They went into the main room and Jonas was surprised to find it filled to capacity. Almost, if not all, the earls were inside. Was there a meeting he didn’t know about? Like Moses parting the sea, the earls separated to allow a path for Coventry. The older man made his way toward Harrington. His age was starting to show. His hair had turned to a mix of white and gray, and wrinkles were forming around his light green eyes. Other than that, he appeared strong and robust for his age. When Coventry reached him, he pulled Jonas into a hug and then stepped back. With his hands resting on Jonas’ arms, he said, “Happy Birthday.” Then all the men lifted their glasses and shouted it.
“What is this?”
“A celebration,” Coventry replied. “To this birthday and many more to come, but most importantly, to your freedom.”
“My what?”
“I think he hit his head,” Asthey said. “It’s your birthday, or did you forget that part?”
“No,” Jonas said carefully. “I’m well aware of what today is. It’s the freedom part I don’t understand.”
“You have full control of your inheritance now,” Coventry said. “Southington doesn’t have a say in your purse strings.”
Jonas sighed. “I didn’t need the funds from Harrington Manor to survive for a long time now. That doesn’t matter to me.”
He’d given up hope on having anything to do with the estate. The title, for the most part, had been in name only for years. His father hadn’t taken the courtesy title from being the duke’s son. If he had, then his father would have been the Marquess of Starling—and Jonas too upon his father’s death. Instead, he’d taken his other grandfather’s title, on his mother’s side, and became the Earl of Harrington. He had been the sole living heir, and it had more honor in it.
With his father’s death, Jonas had become his grandfather’s ward. The duke had tried to make him take the Starling title, but Jo
nas had refused it as his father had. Unfortunately, it gave the duke control over the Harrington estate, and in turn, tarnished that honor. His grandfather had his hands in everything involving the Harrington estate and ruled it with harsh demands and cruelty. The tenants were miserable, and the duke found pleasure in it.
“Doesn’t it?” Coventry said softly. “Think about it, and when you’re ready to claim your home again I’ll help you.”
Perhaps he should claim his estate. He hated dealing with his grandfather, but he owed it to the tenants to wrench control from the evil bastard. They might be able to find a level of happiness at least. Someone should even if it wasn’t Jonas. He nodded. “How did you get everyone here?”
“We’ve been planning this for a while,” Asthey said. “Shelby and I decided your thirtieth year shouldn’t go unmarked by celebration.”
He had great friends. “Thank you.” Jonas glanced around the room. “Where is Shelby?”
“I’m here,” Shelby announced from behind him. “Sorry I’m late. Had a disagreement with my mother.”
Shelby was always arguing with his mother. She was the one who pushed him to escort his sister to all the balls. It was his duty as the oldest male relative. Unfortunately for his sister, Shelby hated ton parties and tried to avoid them as much as possible. Too many innocents looking for marriage for his taste.
“About?” Jonas asked even though he suspected he knew the answer.
“Same thing as always,” Shelby replied. “Don’t suppose I can talk you two—” He gestured to Asthey then Jonas. “—into attending a ball tonight?”
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