Winning the Mail-order Bride & Pursued for the Viscount's Vengeance & Redeeming the Rogue Knight (9781488021725)

by Robinson, Lauri; Mallory, Sarah; Hobbes, Elisabeth

  She did not reply and he asked her what had influenced her to live in this small market town. She considered her words carefully before answering.

  ‘When Randolph and I were children our time was divided between here and the house in Liverpool. Mama loved Fallbridge, but Papa still had some interest in the shipping company that our grandfather started and was obliged to be in Liverpool for several months of each year. We always went with him. It was very different from Fallbridge and we did not have the freedom of the country, but the house was so large Ran and I could spend hours playing hide and seek, from the attics to the cellars.’ She laughed. ‘I have no doubt the servants thought us a veritable nuisance!’

  ‘It sounds like a very happy childhood.’

  ‘It was.’ She stopped, swallowing a sigh as she wished it was possible to return to those carefree days.

  ‘And now you live alone with your brother?’

  ‘Yes.’ She nodded.

  ‘And your mother?’

  ‘She died just a year after Papa. She had been in poor health for a long time.’

  ‘I am very sorry. Who—?’

  He broke off and she looked up at him, brows raised.

  ‘Yes? What were you going to ask, sir?’

  ‘Forgive me if I am impertinent, but did you not need a chaperon, if your mother was so ill?’

  ‘A widowed aunt had lived with us for years and continued to do so for a while after Mama died. Now, of course, I have Randolph.’

  She said no more. He did not need to know Ran had insisted they live alone, that he was too ashamed to have anyone other than Deborah know of his addictions.

  Mama had always planned for Deb to make her come-out in London under her aunt’s aegis and they would take Ran with them. But that had been postponed because of Papa’s ill health and when he died Deb had given up her dreams of a glittering presentation. By then Ran was already drinking and gambling to excess and she had been afraid to expose him to the temptations of the capital. She had always hoped that at Oxford he would make new, more sober friends and grow out of his excesses. A vain hope, she realised now.

  ‘And now you live here most of the year.’

  ‘Yes.’ Should she say more? ‘You may think it odd that a young man like my brother would choose to live in such a small out-of-the-way place. Randolph suffers from, from ill health. It is better that we live quietly.’

  ‘I see.’

  There was such a wealth of sympathy in the two words that Deb was tempted to tell him everything, to unburden herself of the cares and worries that beset her. But, no. He was little more than a stranger, after all, and Randolph did not like her discussing family matters.

  ‘Your brother is lucky to have such a devoted sister.’

  ‘Anyone would do as much.’ She added lightly, ‘And Fallbridge really is a very agreeable town. We have everything we need here for entertainment. The countryside is very fine, there is some hunting to be had in the season. And we are not ten miles from the coast.’

  ‘Yes, I have noticed you have the benefit of bracing sea air,’ he commented as the wind made a sudden snatch at his hat.

  Deb laughed. ‘Very bracing!’

  She put a hand up to her face. Several wisps of hair had escaped and were curling about her face. She tried to tuck them back under her bonnet.

  ‘No, don’t do that.’ Her fingers stilled. He added softly, ‘It suits you.’

  Her cheeks flamed and she walked on quickly, unable to think of a suitable reply.

  ‘Do you know,’ he continued, in a conversational tone, ‘I have made myself familiar with the local rides around here, but I have not yet been to the coast.’ He stopped and turned to face her. ‘Do you ride, Miss Meltham?’

  She should walk on, but her feet had stopped, too.

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Do you have a groom to accompany you? If so, there could be no impropriety if we were to take a little trip together. Will you not take pity upon a poor stranger and ride out with him?’

  Deborah hesitated. They would be gone from breakfast until dinner. It was unthinkable. She determined to say no, but then she looked up to find him smiling down at her and she could not speak at all.

  ‘Say you will come with me,’ he murmured. ‘I promise I will look after you.’

  Physically, perhaps, but that was not what was worrying her. Deb was aware of her growing attachment to Mr Victor. It would be wiser not to see too much of him. And yet…

  Ran was engaged to go shooting with Sir Geoffrey and a party of friends at the beginning of the week. They would make an early start and he would dine at Gomersham Lodge, so Deborah would have the day to herself.

  ‘I might be free on Monday,’ she said slowly.

  His smile deepened. ‘Monday it is, then. I shall call for you.’

  She shook her head, suddenly panicked. ‘I do not know; it is not certain I shall be able to come.’

  ‘Then you may send word to me at the George.’ He hesitated. ‘Will you not take my arm for the remainder of the journey? No one would take it amiss, I am sure, for the wind is much stronger now we are clear of the town and I am afraid it might blow you away.’

  * * *

  What was she doing?

  Deborah handed her cloak to Speke, but instead of going upstairs she went into the morning room and ran to the window, just in time to see her escort striding out of the drive. When he was no longer in sight she turned away with a sigh. He was handsome, kind and gentlemanlike.

  And dangerous.

  She shook her head, as if to clear the doubts. It was not really dangerous, it was only a ride, after all. She would take her groom, who could be relied upon to look after her. She would enjoy a day’s riding in agreeable company. It was nothing more than that.

  Having made her decision, Deb went off in search of her brother, but by the time she went to bed she had still not told him of her forthcoming excursion, and as she drifted off to sleep she knew she would not disclose it to him. Not until after the event.

  * * *

  Monday morning dawned to a heavy mist, but by the time Gil reached Kirkster House it had burned off and the day promised to be fine. As he trotted up the drive he saw Deborah Meltham riding out of the stables on a neat bay mare, a groom following at a respectful distance behind her. She was wearing a dark green riding habit and her hair was firmly clipped back beneath the matching hat, but the severity of her outfit only enhanced her trim figure.

  She was looking serious as she came up to him and he said without preamble, ‘Are you having second thoughts, Miss Meltham?’

  The way her green eyes flew to his face told him he was right. Part of him hoped she would tell him she had changed her mind, that she would not go with him, but he knew he would be bitterly disappointed if she did that and not just because it would be a setback to his plans.

  She leaned forward to pat the bay’s neck. ‘We go out rarely now, so it will be good take Bramble for an airing.’

  She had not really answered his question, but he let that go. He turned his horse and came alongside her.

  ‘Is she fast?’ he asked, nodding at the mare.

  ‘Fast enough,’ she said and Gil noticed the sober look had been replaced by a definite twinkle. ‘We ride cross country most of the way, so you shall see for yourself.’

  They turned west from the gates of the drive and headed away from the town. He was at pains to set her at her ease and within a very short time Deborah was chatting to him as if they had known one another for years.

  * * *

  It did not take long for him to learn that Deborah was an accomplished horsewoman and when they reached a stretch of open ground it seemed the most natural thing in the world to set the horses racing. The chestnut gelding had the advantage of size and st
rength over the mare, but for most of the way they were neck and neck, Gil just pulling away for the last few hundred yards. When he reached the hedge that separated them from the lane he drew rein and waited by the gate for Deb to come up to him. When she did, her cheeks were flushed and her smile was as wide as the sky. He could not help grinning back.

  ‘Did you enjoy that?’

  ‘Very much.’ She watched him as he manoeuvred his horse around to come alongside her and said, ‘You do not need to do that.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘I have noticed that you keep to the left of me, so I do not have to look at the scar on your face. I am not offended or repulsed by it, Mr Victor, believe me.’

  She was smiling at him, nothing but warmth and kindness in her green eyes, and he felt something stirring inside of him, as if there was a chink in the armour he had built around his heart. She had touched softer feelings that he had kept buried for years.

  ‘Gil,’ he said suddenly. ‘Call me Gil.’

  ‘But your name is James.’ Her brows drew together. ‘You are James Victor, are you not?’

  He was already cursing himself for inviting her to use that familiar name. He had not intended to allow her such intimacy, but he was not so much in control as he should be in her presence. He would need to be more careful.

  ‘Gil is what my family and close friends call me,’ he said, recovering quickly. ‘I should be honoured if you would use it, too.’

  ‘I cannot. It would not be seemly.’

  She turned the mare and went ahead of him on to the lane, but he knew it was more than a physical distance. She had withdrawn from him. He brought his horse alongside her and began to talk of mundane matters until their previous rapport was re-established, and after that he was careful to say nothing more that might upset the easy camaraderie.

  Gil knew he had been at fault. When they had raced across the turf he had forgotten his ulterior motive in befriending Deb Meltham. He found himself wishing that they could just be friends, that he had not set himself upon this path. But he had chosen his route and he could not change it now. He must approach it like any other military operation. Sometimes one’s duty was unpleasant, yet it must be done. But it was difficult, when she looked at him with those large trusting eyes and all he wanted to do was to protect her. He hardened his heart. She would be hurt, there was no help for it. In any battle there were casualties, it was the nature of war.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  They rode westwards, the sun climbing higher in a clear blue sky. Deborah stopped on a slight ridge and pointed.

  ‘Look, there in the distance is the town of Formby, and do you see the sandhills? Beyond them lies the sea.’

  There was an excitement in her voice and the lively anticipation in her face amused Gil. Seeing his smile, she laughed.

  ‘I have not been to the coast for years. When we were children Ran and I used to come here with Papa. The greatest treat was to call upon one of the local families, where we would dine on shrimp before we returned home.’

  He waved her on. ‘Lead the way then, Miss Meltham. I am anxious to see it for myself.’

  They set off again at a brisk trot, but Deborah’s mood began to dip as she contrasted those happy carefree memories with her brother’s life now. Even to be out enjoying herself today seemed wrong, when Ran was so unhappy. And last night she had come very close to despair.

  When Randolph had joined her after dinner he had gone straight to the side table and poured himself a brandy from the decanter.

  ‘What?’ he demanded, looking up and catching her eye. ‘Why do you look like that?’

  ‘Have you not drunk enough? Doctor Reedley said—’

  ‘Damn the doctor and damn you!’ The outburst seemed to sober him. He passed a hand over his eyes and said more quietly, ‘I beg your pardon, Deb, I know you are trying to look after me.’

  ‘You are all I have left, Ran.’

  He frowned at her, then took the brandy in one gulp and refilled his glass. He sat down, cradling the glass between two hands and staring moodily into the amber depths.

  ‘You should leave me,’ he said abruptly. ‘Go and make a life for yourself somewhere far away.’

  She smiled lovingly at him. ‘And just where would I go? What would I live on? An income of fifty pounds a year will scarce support me.’

  ‘I could make you an allowance.’

  Her smile slipped a little, ‘How will you do that, when the estate is already mortgaged to the hilt?’

  She pressed her lips together to avoid saying anything more. For all his faults Ran loved her. She knew that. It was the knowledge of her family’s love that had helped her survive those dark days when she had given her heart to a man, only to have it trampled and broken. She had sworn then she would devote her life to her family, but with Mama and Papa both dead, there was only Randolph. He might be weak, and flawed, but he was the only man she was prepared to trust and to love. She crossed the room and dropped to her knees beside him.

  ‘I promised Mama I would look after you,’ she whispered.

  A lock of fair hair had fallen over his brow and she reached up to brush it back. He did not look up.

  ‘I am beyond redemption, Debs.’

  The hopelessness in his tone tore at her heart, but if she showed him sympathy it would only increase his self-pity.

  ‘No, no,’ she said bracingly. ‘You will come about, in time.’

  ‘Time!’ He laughed bitterly. ‘And meanwhile I must remain here, mouldering away in this dreary, forsaken little town.’

  ‘We discussed it with Dr Reedley, do you not remember, Ran? We agreed it would be best for you to live here quietly.’

  ‘No, you and Reedley agreed it, not I! You want to keep me here, a prisoner. Can we not live in the Liverpool house? At least at Duke Street I was close to all my friends!’

  It was those friends who are responsible for your present state!

  Deb closed her lips tightly to prevent the words escaping. With an oath Ran pushed himself out of his chair.

  ‘I am sick of it, do you hear me? Sick of this place, where everyone knows our business, where they all look down their noses at me.’

  ‘That is not true, Ran.’

  ‘Oh, isn’t it? Playing cards for penny points, Sir Geoffrey Gomersham wanting to show me the prize bull he has added to his estate—as if I cared about such things!’

  ‘Well, you should,’ she said sharply, her patience breaking. ‘This estate is your responsibility now and needs you to take an interest.’

  ‘Hah, what odd notions you have, Sister! Let the farmers take an interest in the land. As long as they pay their rent I do not care what goes on here!’

  She had watched him lounge away, staggering a little as he left the room. No, she thought sadly. Ran cared nothing for Kirkster or its people. Their people. He saw it only as a purse to dip into whenever he wanted money. That purse was nearly empty now, but an even greater worry to Deborah was Ran’s health. Doctor Reedley had been blunt.

  ‘If Lord Kirkster continues with his mode of life he will not live the year out. Keep him here, quiet and sober, and he has a chance.’

  But how was she to do that? She could not physically restrain him and sometimes she thought her brother was hell-bent upon self-destruction.

  * * *

  ‘Deborah, what is it, has something upset you?’

  Gil’s voice broke into her despondent thoughts and she gave a little start.

  ‘I was thinking about my brother.’

  ‘I see.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, how could you?’

  ‘You could tell me.’

  She closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted by carrying the burden of it on her own. She wanted to share it, at least a little of it, and Gil�
��s tone was so calm, so kind, it invited confidences.

  She said, ‘Ran was just eighteen when Papa died. He was really too young to take responsibility for his inheritance, but his guardian was a distant uncle, who saw no profit in his putting himself out for his nephew. Wild friends and wilder living soon swallowed up the funds from our modest estate. I did not know how low Randolph had sunk until I visited him unexpectedly in Duke Street and he confessed the whole. That was when I persuaded him to come and live with me at Fallbridge and close up the Liverpool house. It is an attempt to retrench. I know full well that Ran is doing it only for my sake. But that is not the worst of it.’

  She saw Gil recoil and raise one hand as if to silence her, but the next moment that hand was reaching across and covering hers in a brief, comforting grip. ‘I beg your pardon,’ he said quietly. ‘I did not mean to stop you. Do go on, my dear.’

  She shook her head, realising how close she had come to unburdening herself fully, but these were not his problems. And Randolph would not wish her to tell anyone that through his own actions he had destroyed his health so comprehensively.

  ‘I should not have said so much. It is unforgivable to disclose my family’s problems to you or anyone else.’

  Gil’s heart contracted when he heard the distress in her voice. What had she been about to tell him? That Kirkster had seduced an innocent schoolgirl and then killed her brother in a duel? He did not want to hear her say it, even though it was the truth. For one wild moment he had a craven impulse to turn his horse and gallop away, but he couldn’t do it. He could not leave Deborah now. He swallowed, clearing his throat of the constriction that threatened to choke him.

  ‘You can tell me, Deborah. If it will help, you can tell me anything you wish.’

  Somehow he managed to meet her eyes, even to smile, although he hated himself for it. But she was shaking her head and dashing away a rogue tear.

  ‘No, no, I must not burden you with such things. And it is not so very bad, after all. We shall come about, I am sure.’