Her Secret Fantasy

by Gaelen Foley

  It spread through her entire body.

  Derek was panting as he laid his head on her heaving chest. Lily wrapped her arms around him in weary devotion and looked up at the stars, flat on her back in the meadow on that summer’s night.

  She let out an idle laugh of sheer, joyous astonishment. He joined her, understanding the noise without need of explanation.

  How fortunate they were, she thought as she dragged her lips along his hairline, amazed to think that Derek Knight was hers and had just made love to her beneath the stars.

  No fortune. No gold. Not even any clothes to hamper them. No worldly possessions in sight, but they had escaped with their lives. They had each other, and that was all they needed.

  In this moment, they had everything.

  “What do you mean, you lost them?” Ed Lundy demanded, glaring at Bates.

  Bates started stammering excuses, but Lundy barely heard, shaking his head at him in disbelief. Didn’t any of these fools seem to grasp that his bloody world was caving in?

  His stable was ashes, his horses were loose, his prisoners had vanished, and he could all but feel the cold hand of doom tapping him on the shoulder, whispering in his ear that he was done for.

  His fears swam around him in the night. His mother might not get back in time with the proceeds of his land sale, and if he did not replace the money he had borrowed from the committee’s treasure trove, then he’d be hanged.

  Hell, he’d be hanged anyway, for even if his mother somehow rushed back magically in the blink of an eye, he had another problem, for in the meantime, he had committed more crimes. He had kidnapped two people, one of whom had half an army for a family. If the law didn’t get him, all those fearsome Knight brothers would. Damn, he should have killed the major when he’d had the chance! But the truth was, he hadn’t had the heart—and didn’t that prove that he really wasn’t such a bad fellow?

  Merely an ambitious one who had aimed a bit too high in life and got in over his head.

  He was shocked, though, that little, fragile Lily Balfour had rescued her cavalry hero. Well, good riddance to her, too! The fact of the matter was, he felt a hell of a lot easier with Bess.

  But even if he married Bess tomorrow, his long-simmering problems had just exploded like so many spewing volcanoes around him. He had thought he could keep them all under control, but now he barely knew which one to cork up first. Everything had gone to Hell at once.

  His furious, panicked confusion made it difficult to make a plan for how to proceed. Downing another large swig of whisky from his flask did nothing to help clear his head, but it was time to recognize that he was in serious trouble and he needed help.

  God, he wished his mother were here. She had a hardheaded side few people ever saw. Sainted woman, so strong in a crisis. If she were here, she would know what to do, but of course, she was already on her way to do whatever she could to save him.

  He thought of going to Lord Fallow, the closest thing to a father he had ever known, but he could not bear to face his mentor’s fury and disappointment at his bungling. He dreaded telling Lord Fallow how completely he had let him down. Still, Lundy knew he was in over his head and had no choice but to seek help. So instead of approaching Lord Fallow, he did the only rational thing he could think of and sent Jones out to summon Lord Sinclair.

  It was the dead of night, but too bad. The message he had sent with Jones would make the old man understand the critical nature of the situation.

  God, he thought as he paced and waited and barked orders at his useless men until he was hoarse, this was not going to be pretty.

  He had dodged the chairman’s laborious inquest and Knight’s tricky investigation at the same time, like some poor bounder trying to cross a patch of quicksand. No wonder he drank! It was enough to wreck a man’s nerves. He swallowed another gulp of whisky and thought, Well, I led them on a merry chase for as long as I could. Obviously, however, his only hope now was to come clean.

  Though he was backed into a corner, Ed Lundy had not yet reached the end of his tenacity. He had not come so far in life just to give up. He knew full well that Lord Sinclair would have no choice but to help him, for the chairman’s own reputation rested on the credibility of the committee as a whole. That was the way it worked in London, the gentlemen’s club that Lord Fallow had helped him get into.

  Sinclair wouldn’t like it, but he’d have no choice but to help him cover it up. Lundy was sure of it.

  When the chairman arrived, relief washed through him. The portly old earl marveled at the fire and his horses galloping everywhere, but Lundy hurried him inside to explain the situation.

  Though he cringed over the shameful confession he had to make, Lundy felt better knowing that at least now someone had come who would tell him what to do, how the hell to handle the situation. Sweating profusely, he showed Lord Sinclair into his office, sat him down, and told him the whole, sordid story.

  How Phillip Kane had sweet-talked him into investing in nonexistent canals, promising huge returns through an “exciting” new speculation company with opportunities for profit that no one else had been told about yet. As the candles burned lower, he revealed every detail of how this silver-tongued snake-in-the-grass had lured him into taking part in the scheme in the hopes of tripling his investment in just a few years. He had made it all seem like such a sure thing that Lundy had concluded he had to sign up before he lost out.

  “I was going to replace it all as soon as I was able. I was going to use the money to make more and then put it back before anyone noticed,” he continued. With the enormity of the bills he already met faithfully month after month, Lundy had not wanted to part with any of the possessions that had helped him gain the ton’s acceptance—the sprawling mansion, the opulent stables, the horses who ate better than he used to as a boy, nor even his expensive porcelain doll and bride-to-be, Lady Lily.

  But before long he discovered that his pride had done him in. His greed had got the best of him.

  As it turned out, there were no canals.

  There was no such company.

  And after swindling him out of a kingly sum, Phillip Kane had nipped off to the Continent to live the high life.

  Lundy had immediately hired an investigator to track Kane down, but when his former Bow Street man found the blackguard, he was already dead. Lundy was not about to make a stink about the theft at that point, for fear that he would be accused of murdering him!

  “I know this is terrible, sir,” he admitted while, sitting across from him, Lord Sinclair shook his head in fretful silence, his clasped hands resting over the silver head of his walking stick.

  “Dear, oh, dear.”

  “I never meant any harm. You said it was all right to borrow from the fund as long as we put it back before anyone noticed. I tried! I’m still trying, and I will replace the sum I took—but surely you can see it’s not my fault! It’s just that the timing was disastrous! How was I to know there’d be another war?”

  “Now, now, calm yourself.”

  Lundy lifted his flask for another swallow, but it was empty. He threw it aside with an angry curse.

  “There, there, have a drink, my boy,” Lord Sinclair said with a paternal air, reaching into his waistcoat. He pulled out his very own flask and offered it to him. “It will help to calm your nerves.”

  Lundy was startled, indeed, touched by the gesture. He lowered his head. “Thank you, my lord,” he mumbled as he accepted it. “You’re very kind.”

  “Not at all. Now, then, we must find a way to put it right.” There was something strange in Sinclair’s gaze as he watched Lundy toss back a swallow of his whisky. “You mustn’t worry your head. You’re young! How were you to know? You’ve mucked things up rather badly, but now that at least you’ve told the truth, it will all be sorted out soon.”

  “Do you really think so, sir? Can we fix it?”

  “Oh, yes, dear lad. I know it for a fact. You relax. I know just how to make all your problems
go away.”

  Relieved by his confession and touched by the old fellow’s reassurance, Lundy pursed his lips together and nodded earnestly. “Thank you, my lord. Thank you.” He attempted a trace of a sheepish smile and added, “Good whisky.”

  Lord Sinclair smiled sagely. “Drink up.”

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

  “So, what do we do now?” Lily asked as they dressed again hastily out in the field.

  Derek turned to her with a dazed smiled as he fastened his breeches, still a bit lost in his thoughts.

  He had been looking around at the sky, the lake, and the cool, breezy meadow, taking a moment to imprint it all on his memory. Savoring the moment was a habit born of knowing every day could be your last, but he marked this night in his mind as his greatest victory, the night that he had won his greatest prize.

  He was looking straight at her, her skin aglow after their lovemaking, her hair wet and rumpled, the same ethereal, pale shade of the golden moon.

  No citadel stormed, no foe defeated, no army scattered before his forces could compare to the quiet triumph of this love.

  In the past, whenever women had started to get too close, or seemed poised to slip past his defenses, he had always chased them off with a simple question, all the while longing for a lover who would prove her devotion by pledging to follow the drum, to follow him anywhere.

  But tonight Lily had done more than that. Indeed, she had surpassed his wistful fantasies. The girl had been prepared to die with him in that stable rather than leave him behind. She had told him her deepest secrets and had given him her all. Perhaps his proposal had been a little spontaneous, but he was absolutely sure she was the woman he was meant to marry.

  Sweeter still, he knew he was in love. This condition, he now understood, was easily as dangerous as any cavalry charge, though in a wholly different way. But he wasn’t afraid. He had never felt stronger before in his life.

  And to think when he was young his mother had always warned him not to count on anyone ever loving him, a younger son, unless he first attained great fortune and glory in battle. Tonight Lily Balfour had dispelled that painful myth. Her trust was more treasure than any mountain of Indian gold to him, her love all the glory that any man could desire.

  All of this reminded Derek that his new top priority in life was to ensure that Lily was protected.

  This dark business with Lundy was not over yet.

  Lily would not be totally safe until Derek had seen it through to the end.

  “You’re staring at me.”

  Her pert comment drew him from his thoughts. “You’d better get used to it.”

  She put her hand on her hip and gave him her adorable little scolding smile. “Did you even hear what I just said?”

  “Of course I did, my love.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “Well?”

  “If you’d repeat it, I’d remember better.”

  She snorted. “Oh, I was only saying how unpleasant it is that Edward’s completely out of control and trying to kill us. Hm?”

  “Ah, no worries,” Derek replied in a breezy tone. “You and me against him? He’s the one who ought to be afraid.” On his way to check on the horse, he paused to help Lily wiggle back into her smart, tailored riding habit.

  When she pulled up the sleeves, he frowned at her torn bodice, reminded anew of how close Lundy had come to harming her.

  “You’re glowering,” she murmured, then cupped his cheek. “I’m all right, darling. Honestly.”

  “Maybe so, but I’m not about to let half of London view the snowy bosom of my beloved,” he drawled. He untied the strip of black cord with which he had bound back his hair, crooked his finger at her to come closer, and then used the cord to tie the two sides of her ripped bodice back together.

  She caressed his chest with a dreamy, sated smile. “You fix everything.”

  “At your service, madam.”

  “Mm, really?” she answered wickedly.

  He gave her a cheeky bow and continued ahead to check on Mary Nonesuch, grazing in contentment nearby.

  Lily followed him, still working on her buttons. “So, what do we do now? Mrs. Clearwell must be mad with worry.”

  “Well, we can’t contact her yet, I’m afraid. Lundy’s probably got men stationed outside both our homes, waiting for us to return.”

  “Oh! You’re right. We’d better not. Maybe we should go to the authorities and tell them all that’s happened?”

  Derek shook his head. “No, Lundy’s back is to the wall. I think we’ve got to be very careful how far we push him right now. If we go to the constables, they’ll rouse a hue and cry to go and take him, but considering his army of hirelings, things could turn very bloody, indeed. And if Lundy gets killed, I’ll never be able to track down the rest of the army’s money. Besides, he’s not allowed to die until I’ve paid him back for what he did to you.”

  “Just don’t get yourself killed,” she warned. “I can’t do without you, you know.”

  “How sweet.” He leaned over and stole a kiss.

  Lily sighed, swaying a little on her feet with drowsy contentment, but Derek steadied her again and then smiled in amusement as the funny little thing shook herself briskly back to business.

  “Maybe we could get Lord Fallow to come and try to reason with Edward,” she said, “calm him down. Aside from his mother, the earl is the only person Edward truly respects.”

  “That,” Derek replied, “is actually a very good idea. Lundy obviously isn’t going to talk to us, but Lord Fallow might just succeed in getting the cretin to spill his guts.”

  “Oh, but what if we tell Lord Fallow all this and he doesn’t believe us? If only we had some proof! I wish I had succeeded in stealing those papers about the canal scheme. I almost had them!”

  “Can you remember anything specific about them?”

  While he got the horse ready to resume their journey, she ticked off what she knew. “The name of the supposed firm was Warwickshire Canals and Company. The total sum that Edward lost was some three hundred thousand pounds. The payments stopped without explanation a little over a year ago. Oh—and all the correspondence was conducted by the company’s supposed president, Mr. Phillip Kane.”

  “Phillip Kane?” Derek exclaimed, turning to her in astonishment.

  “You know that name?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Unfortunately, yes.” He paused. “Charles found a significant payment to Phillip Kane while he was searching Lord Sinclair’s financial records.”

  Lily tilted her head in puzzlement. “Why…might Lord Sinclair have wanted to pay off Phillip Kane?”

  Derek was silent for a long moment.

  “I don’t know, but you were right,” he answered grimly. “We need Lord Fallow to reason with Lundy, and we need him fast. He may be our only hope of getting answers out of the blackguard. Ready?”

  She nodded. He set her up on the mare’s back as before, and swung into the saddle behind her, gathering the reins. “Let’s go.”

  “Who are you two young people, and why the devil are you bothering me at this hour?” Lord Fallow demanded, roused from his bed, still in his nightcap and dressing gown. “It’s the middle of the night! You had better have a very good explanation—and so had you!” he warned his butler, who gave him a cringing look of apology.

  “We’re very sorry to disturb you, sir,” Derek stared at once. He refreshed the earl’s memory about who each of them was and their prior invitation to his home on the night of the garden concert. Then he got straight to the point. “I’m afraid it’s a bit of an emergency, sir. It concerns your protégé, Mr. Lundy.”

  “Edward?”

  “My lord, something’s very wrong with Edward,” Lily chimed in. “He attacked me in a most unspeakable fashion and then abducted Major Knight most violently. We got away, but now he’s trying to kill us!”

  “Surely, Edward wouldn’t—” he started, then reconsidered. “But why? What did you do to him
?”

  “We discovered serious misconduct on his part regarding the army funds entrusted to the Appropriations Sub-Committee,” Derek clipped out. “To try to silence us, he took Miss Balfour prisoner. I was to be thrown into the hold of the first ship bound for India, where I couldn’t cause him any trouble.”

  “Oh, dear.” The earl’s lined face had paled.

  “We got away, but Edward’s men are still chasing us,” Lily said. “That’s why we came here. We know how much Edward loves you. We were hoping you might be able to reason with him. With Mrs. Lundy in the West Indies, you may be the only one now who can calm him down.”

  “She’s right,” Derek agreed. “We don’t need the situation to escalate any further. Will you come with us?”

  “Yes, yes, let me get dressed. Make yourselves at home, I’ll be right back. Fenley, bring them something to eat.”

  “Very good, sir,” the butler replied.

  “And rouse whatever male servants can carry a weapon,” the earl added.

  “Sir, I’d recommend we bring no more than three or four of your men,” Derek interrupted. “We’ll be outnumbered, but any more than that could set him off.”

  The earl nodded and the butler turned to them, but Derek had one more question.

  “Lord Fallow?”

  “Yes, Major?”

  “Lundy told me that Lord Sinclair once took him aside privately and explained that the committee members have a certain privilege over the money placed under their control. That they were at leave to borrow discreetly against the fund like their own personal bank, as long as no one found out and they put the money back in short order.”

  “What?”

  “Is it not true?”

  “Absolutely not true! It is expressly forbidden in our bylaws!”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. I’m the one who wrote them!”

  “But an unofficial policy, perhaps?”

  “Never. Not while I was chairman, anyway,” he said warily. “I am certain Lord Sinclair would realize such a practice was highly unethical.”