Lady In Disguise (The Langley Sisters)

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by Vella, Wendy




  LADY IN DISGUISE

  Desperate and penniless, Miss Olivia Langley is out of options. To ensure her family's survival she and her sister decide to take a drastic step - they don masks and take to the road as highwaymen. Disaster strikes when, inside the first carriage they rob, they find the one man Olivia had hoped never to see again. Five years ago Lord William Ryder had broken Livvy's heart. Now he has returned and she has a bad feeling that if anyone can succeed at unmasking her deepest secrets, it will be him.

  Will knew his return would be greeted with both joy and resentment, but after five years of hard living he was ready to come home and take his place in society. He had never forgotten Olivia no matter how hard he'd tried, and whilst he hadn't imagined she would welcome him with open arms, the hostility and anger she displays are at odds with the woman he once knew. It is not long before he realizes she's living a dangerous lie, and now that he’s back, Will is determined to keep her safe and finally claim her for his own.

  By Wendy Vella

  Visit Wendy at: Wendy Vella, Romance Author

  Also written by Wendy Vella:

  The Reluctant Countess

  Winner of the Readers Choice finalist and Clendon Award

  Duchess-By-Chance

  Winner: Romance Writers of New Zealand Clendon Award for a full-length romantic manuscript.

  Lady In Disguise is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Lady In Disguise published by Wendy Vella

  Copyright © 2013 Wendy Vella

  ISBN KINDLE: 978-0-9922643-0-7

  Dedication

  For Denise

  A special friend who listened as I talked of endless plots and characters and who makes the best tea and cheese puffs in the world. You always knew I could do it.

  Thanks for believing my friend xx.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lord William Ryder woke suddenly as he flew across the carriage to land face first on the opposite seat. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear the sleep-induced fog, he wondered what the hell Luke was thinking pulling his horses to a halt so quickly. Slapping both hands on the seat he levered himself upright.

  “Stand and deliver!”

  Hands still braced on the seat, Will shook his head again; surely he hadn’t heard those words correctly.

  “Those within the carriage step down at once or I will blow a hole in the side!”

  In the past few years Will had been shot, stabbed, held hostage and forced to leap from a burning ship, and now he had arrived, to what he believed the safety of his homeland, and within hours he was being robbed. If rage weren’t nipping at his heels he’d laugh.

  “I will give you a five count!”

  “I’m coming!” he bellowed, reaching for the door. Pushing it open with enough force that it banged loudly against the carriage, Will stepped down. Cooler now that dusk had settled, he could smell the trees and earth of his homeland.

  “No risks, Luke,” he cautioned his driver quietly as he looked at the riders before him. “Well?” he then questioned the two masked men, waiting for one of them to speak; curiously both seemed almost unnaturally still. “Are you robbing me, or did you want to take tea?” His drawled words had the required effect, as one of them spoke.

  “Throw your money over here, or I will shoot you!”

  “You had better make that shot count, because you can be assured if you miss you won’t get a second one,” Will stated calmly, looking at the two riders. Both wore black hats pulled low to cover their eyes and scarves hid the lower half of their faces. Pistols were pointed at him and his driver. They looked menacing, yet not overly big, he thought, eyeing the slender thigh of the one closest to him.

  “The penalty for robbing a peer is death I believe,” he added, reaching into his pocket and removing a money pouch.

  “The penalty for starvation is the same, my lord!”

  With the coin pouch now in his hand, Will looked at the man. His words were muffled, yet he could hear the desperation.

  “You’ll end up with your neck stretched by the hangman’s noose if you don’t rethink your choice of career, young man.”

  “Spoken like a cosseted nobleman, Lord Ryder. Now throw me that purse and we shall be on our way.”

  Will paused, holding the highwayman’s gaze and then slowly threw the purse in the air, the coins making a chinking sound as they resettled in his palm.

  “It appears you have me at a disadvantage, sir. You know who I am, yet I am at a loss to remember you. Of course that could be because you have your face covered and a pistol pointed at my head.”

  Will watched the horse lift its head as the man’s hand tightened on the reins. Interesting. It was dark, and the moonlight was weak, but the highwayman had recognized him immediately, if that reaction was any indication. He’d seen the worst life could offer, yet it saddened him that someone who had crossed his path would need to steal to survive.

  “This is not a social call, Lord Ryder, just hand over the pouch and we shall leave you to continue your journey.”

  “And if I say no will you kill me where I stand?”

  “We don’t want to kill you!”

  “Then turn your horse around and leave,” Will said, his voice now low and menacing. The gun wavered and then steadied as the man transferred the reins into the same hand as the gun, the empty one he now held out to Will.

  “Throw me that pouch.”

  “No.” He watched the two highwaymen look at each other after he spoke. A suspicion formed in his head as the leader raised a shoulder in a gesture that looked far too feminine for a man.

  “I will shoot your driver.”

  Will had not survived the last few years to be shot just miles from his home and he realized that a young desperate man aiming a gun at his head was a situation that could get out of hand quickly.

  “Here.” He threw the bag at the leader who caught it easily.

  “Now go before I decide that you two need to be taught a bloody good lesson in manners,” Will added, scowling at them.

  They turned their horses and began to leave.

  “I’ll stop them!”

  “No, Luke!”

  Too late, Will watched his driver’s knife sail through the air and lodge itself in the shoulder of the lead highwayman. The scream that filled the air told him his original guess had been incorrect. They weren’t youths; in fact, they were women. He took a step towards her as she lurched sideways in the saddle, but she saved herself by gripping the horse’s mane, and soon they were gone from his sight.

  “Christ, I just stabbed a woman, Will.”

  “Just a flesh wound, Luke. She will recover.” Will waved a hand at his friend. “Now shift over, I’ll drive from here.” Throwing a final glance in the direction the riders had taken; he then climbed up beside Luke and took the reins, eager to get home.

  Forty minutes later Will brought the horses to a halt on the rise; passing the reins to Luke he then jumped down.

  “Five years is a long time, Will.”

  “Aye, Luke.”
Will felt something ease inside him as he walked forward to take in the sight below. He had carried this place in his heart for so long often believing he would never see it again.

  Built by his ancestors, the grey stone walls of Rossetter House rose proudly up into the night sky. A flag fluttered from the turret that one of the previous dukes had built to add grandeur to the home. He knew every inch of the crest that was embroidered on that flag; two lions for dauntless courage, and a cross that was added for faith and service in the Crusades. Blue for truth and loyalty. In this Will had fallen short; at the first test of loyalty, he failed and fled.

  A light twinkled in the turret room, and Will wished that he would find his mother in there spending time in her favourite room. Filled with light from sunrise to sunset she had claimed it for her music. A cold wind ruffled his hair as memories assaulted him, memories that, until today, he had chosen to keep locked inside.

  He saw his little sister crying, begging him not to leave as he stormed from the house with his brother’s angry words resonating in his head. Joseph had called him a leech on the dukedom, demanding to know when he would become the man his parents had raised him to be. Will had remembered those words. They had motivated him to become the man who stood here today.

  “How can so much time have passed, Will, yet there Rossetter sits the same as it always did?”

  “Its history binds it to the earth as it has for hundreds of years, Luke. It would take more than the two of us to change that.”

  Would his sister and brother forgive him for his desertion?

  His eyes followed the path that led to the lake, the water glittering in the moonlight. There he had kissed Olivia Langley, the only girl to ever touch his heart, and he had walked away from her without a word too.

  “It is hard to believe we are really here.”

  “You forgot to add finally, Luke.”

  “So I did.”

  It was time for William Ryder to go home, time to heal the wounds that had driven him away. Returning to the carriage he once again pulled himself up onto the driver’s seat. Taking the reins, he urged them down the driveway.

  “It’s bloody freezing.”

  “There is not even a flutter of snow, Luke, don’t let your siblings hear you speak of it being cold, they’ll think I’ve turned you into a Molly.”

  “We need to acclimatize, so Freddy told me,” Luke said, blowing on his hands.

  “I hope your mother forgives me for allowing you to come to India with me.”

  “As I’ve told you many times, there are eight of us, Will.” Luke’s words were

  mumbled from the depths of his scarf. “I should imagine she was dead chuffed when

  I left.”

  Luke Fletcher and Will had grown up together. His father worked in the Duke’s stables and when he was old enough he had worked there too. He had seen Will storm from the house that day and when Will had told him he was not returning to Rossetter, Luke had asked to accompany him. There had never been a moment in the past five years that Will had regretted the decision to take him.

  “I’ve never said this before, Luke, but I’m grateful to you for coming with me, it would have been harder had you not been there,” Will said, pulling the carriage to a halt in the circular driveway. “To have my closest friend at hand, should I need him, was worth more than all the money we made.”

  “It was an honour, Will,” Luke said gruffly, about as comfortable with sentiment as the next man.

  Giving his friend a last look, Will then jumped down. Running a hand through his hair, he noticed his fingers were unsteady. Dragging in another deep lungful of cold air, he looked up the stone walls to the corner window on the third floor that had once been his bedroom. Was it still his, or had Joseph moved his belongings somewhere else?

  “I’ll take the horses to the stables and then head home.”

  “Good night then, Luke, and give my regards to your family. I shall call upon them soon.”

  “There is no need—”

  “As I was the one to lure you away, there is every need. I have no wish to be at odds with your family, my friend.”

  “And yours will be happy to see you’ve returned, Will, I promise you that.”

  “Perhaps,” Will said, feeling suddenly nervous.

  He watched Luke until he was out of sight taking those precious seconds to steady himself. Realizing the carriage would have been heard, he approached the front door. Lifting one hand, Will took hold of the iron knocker and banged it three times. Standing back, he waited. The sound of footsteps arrived several minutes later and light spilled through the door as it opened.

  “May I help you?”

  “It’s only been five years, Alders, surely I have not changed that much?”

  Will watched the faded hazel eyes before him widen and a huge smile crease the face of his family’s oldest servant.

  “Welcome home! My lord, welcome home!”

  Leaning forward, Will gripped Alder’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. The butler wrapped one gnarled hand around his forearm and returned the gesture with surprising strength.

  “Do you never age, Alders?”

  “I have not yet found the time, Lord Ryder,” the butler said, stepping to one side to usher him in.

  “Come, my lord. Your family have just finished their evening meal and are reading in the gold parlour. They will be pleased to see you.”

  “Lord, I hope so,” he muttered, walking over the threshold. Stopping just inside he looked around him. Growing up here, he realized now, he’d taken its beauty for granted.

  To the left and right three stone arches defined the long entranceway, and each was carved with intricate patterns of knights, lions, and stories of history that he had never taken time to study. Above hung tapestries and paintings in hundred-year-old gilt frames. Tilting his head, Will looked up to the cream ceilings from which hung a chandelier.

  “I hope they don’t still have you cleaning that, Alders?”

  “I send the younger staff up there now, my lord.”

  Each floor had a gallery that looked down to the entrance where patterned carpets covered the huge floor area and drew the eye to the sweeping staircase at the end.

  “Is everyone well, Alders?” Will said quietly.

  “They are, my lord.”

  He felt some of the tension in his chest ease as he followed the butler down the carpet to the stairs. Walking up slowly, Will trailed his fingers over the polished banister he had slid down many times in his youth. Looking to the top he studied the pictures of his parents, immortalized in canvas, smiling at each other as they had in life and down on all who entered their home.

  “God I still miss them, Alders.”

  “As do we all, my lord.”

  Their feet were muffled as they turned left at the top and continued along the hall to the gold parlour. Will feared his heart would give out, it beat so loudly. Alders didn’t stop at the door, just opened it and walked inside, leaving him no choice but to follow.

  “Lord Ryder has returned home, your Grace,” Alders said in sombre tones.

  Will stepped into the room and paused. Joseph, his brother, had turned to face the doorway; his features looked as if they had been chiselled from stone, cold and emotionless. Thea, his sister, was standing, one hand pressed to her lips the other braced on top of the piano before her. Joseph’s wife, Penny, stood beside her with a tea cup in one hand. Will took this all in within seconds—the longest and slowest seconds of his life.

  “Will?” Thea’s voice was a hoarse whisper as she slowly began to move towards him. “Is it really you, Will?”

  He couldn’t speak; something had lodged in his throat as he watched his little sister. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she kept repeating his name and then with a sob, she launched herself at him. Will caught her and wrapped his arms awkwardly around her trembling body. She had grown so much in his absence. He breathed in her sweet scent and felt the burn of tears behind his own eyes as
she sobbed. He hadn’t been this close to another person in years and had forgotten what it felt like to be held by someone who cared about him.

  “Sssh, Thea, I’m home now.”

  Will felt her breath heave with a sigh, then she simply laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. She gave him the strength to lift his head and look at his brother.

  Will now saw the grey hairs and lines on the face of Joseph Henry Edward Ryder, sixth Duke of Rossetter, that had not been there before he had left England, but he could discern nothing from his blank expression. Still standing where he had been when Will entered, the only thing indicating the Duke was less than his composed self was the clenching of his large hands into fists.

  Their eyes met and held, neither moving, the only sound in the room the small hiccups coming from their sister.

  “So you have returned.”

  Will’s arms tightened briefly around Thea then eased as his brother spoke, the deep controlled words sounding unerringly similar to the late Duke’s.

  “I have, your Grace.”

  Will hadn’t meant the words to be an insult, he had simply not known how to address his brother after so many years. They had never been close. The bonds other brothers shared had been lost under the responsibilities forced on his brother from a young age. Yet he saw instantly that Joseph had thought the formal use of his title an insult, his body growing more rigid, eyes narrowing.

  “One hopes the years have changed you for the better, William.”

  Will would not have stood passively whilst his brother made a statement like that before leaving England, but the years had changed him, he had learnt that strength came from remaining in control at all times.

  “I believe I have.”

  The brothers once again looked at each other, the gap between them only a few feet, yet to Will it was the width of the ocean he had just crossed.

 

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