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

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

  But he could blame himself. What had happened to his iron will and military discipline? He should never have arranged this meeting, never have given in to the temptation to see her again, to kiss her. Whatever her brother’s faults, Deborah deserved better than this. She deserved a good man who would cherish and protect her. Marry her. Love her. He wished with all his heart that he could be that man, but marriage was out of the question. He could not take her to wife believing—knowing—her brother had destroyed his family. And as for love, he was no longer capable of it. The pain of losing his brother and sister was too much and he would not risk his heart any further.

  As he stepped from the shadows he glanced down. His cravat was disordered and the front of his evening coat was creased where Deb had gripped it. Nothing that could not be rectified by Harris with a little water and a smoothing iron, but if he returned to the concert it was sure to be remarked upon by some sharp-eyed acquaintance. He turned and headed for the stairs. He would go home. That at least would relieve Deborah of his shameful presence for the rest of the evening. And in future, he would ensure they kept their meetings formal.

  * * *

  ‘My dear Miss Meltham, where have you been? I looked for you at supper. Did you have the headache, is that it? Yes, yes, I can see that you are not looking quite yourself. But you must not think I was lacking in company. Lady Gosling and I found much to talk of. Such a treat, you know, to be sitting next to a perfect stranger and discover our minds are so alike. I shall be paying her a morning call tomorrow. But come along now, we must take our seats and quickly, for the signora is about to sing again!’

  Deborah smiled and nodded as Mrs Wortleby chattered on. She heard only one word in ten and understood none of it, her brain still reeling from that encounter with Gil. Surely everyone must see how shaken she was, everyone must know that she had been kissed to within an inch of her life, but, no, a quick glance showed her that no one was paying her any attention at all. She sat down beside Mrs Wortleby and composed herself for the second half of the concert.

  As she joined in the applause to welcome the singer back on to the dais she glanced at the space beside her. No doubt Gil would return to the concert at the last moment. But the seat remained empty and a chill little cloud of loneliness settled over Deb’s spirits.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A night’s repose did much to restore Deborah’s equilibrium. She had been at fault to go in search of Gil. Any lady should know the dangers of being alone in the shadows with a man and her previous experience with Viscount Gilmorton should have warned her of what might happen.

  A little tremor ran through her. She had wanted it to happen. She could not deny she had wanted him to kiss her. That the kiss would lead to such an earth-shattering explosion of feeling on her part was unexpected and went to show just what strain her nerves had been suffering recently.

  Gil had left the concert without another word to her, but Deb was as sure as she could be that he would not withdraw his help, so the next morning she was up early and walking in Green Park, as usual.

  She recalled his comment, that the daily exercise was doing her good. There was no doubt that she enjoyed her walks and felt the better for being out of the house. She had quickly become familiar with Green Park, noting that the most crowded walks were at the eastern side of the park, near the reservoir, where the guards paraded every morning. She chose to stroll towards the less popular areas to the west, where shrubs and trees provided a degree of privacy, should it be required.

  * * *

  For two mornings after the concert she looked for Lord Gilmorton in vain, but on the third, when she was beginning to worry that perhaps she was wrong and he had abandoned her and Randolph to their fate, she saw him striding towards her from the western end of the park. She caught his glance for a moment before turning on to one of the more secluded walks.

  She had not gone very far before Gil was beside her and try as she might, Deborah could not quell the relief she felt at seeing him again. She nodded to Elsie, conveying with a look that the maid should drop back to a respectful distance. They walked along the path, in step, but never touching, both looking straight ahead.

  ‘I kept my word,’ he said. ‘I promised you I would not seek you out unless I had news.’

  Her step faltered but she recovered quickly.

  ‘Go on, my lord.’

  ‘I think we have something.’

  Anxiety immediately ousted all other emotion and it only deepened when she heard the grim note in his voice.

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I have discovered a pattern to your servants’ going out. Enfield or one of the footmen goes each night to a certain eating house in Wardour Street where they meet up with women.’

  Deb’s mouth twisted into a little moue of distaste. ‘I am not so innocent that I am not aware that such things go on, my lord. I certainly do not condone it, but I know it is far from unusual.’

  ‘But it is not only prostitutes they meet up with. In fact, most of the women are in respectable trades. They are flower sellers, hawkers, milliners, domestics, all of them poorly paid wretches who would very likely be willing to take forged notes to busy markets and buy some small item, receiving their change in good coin. They get to keep a tiny fraction of what they exchange, the rest goes back to their master.’

  ‘Sir Sydney,’ she said.

  ‘Not necessarily.’

  She stared at him. ‘You still think my brother could be involved in this?’

  ‘I know he is involved,’ he corrected her. ‘What I cannot be sure of is how deeply.’

  Deborah shivered. Ran’s own words to her suggested he was not wholly innocent.

  ‘Tell me truthfully,’ he said. ‘Do you think your brother is aware of what is going on?’

  Her spirits sagged. ‘I believe so. His whole demeanour has changed recently. I think he believes he is implicated too deeply to withdraw.’ She twisted her hands together, ending bitterly, ‘And he finds solace in laudanum.’

  ‘Encouraged in his addiction by Warslow, no doubt.’

  Deborah put a hand over her mouth, sick with misery and fear for her brother.

  * * *

  Gil ached with frustration at Deb’s unhappiness. He felt so helpless, unable to comfort her as he would wish. He was afraid for her, too. He leaned closer.

  ‘Deb—Miss Meltham, I earnestly beg you to move out of Grafton Street. If you need funds, I will help. You have my word that whatever I may think of your brother, I will do my best to keep him out of this, but there is no need for you to take the risk.’

  ‘No. I cannot leave Ran. He is all I have to live for.’

  Her words were like a physical blow to the gut. Her anguish was evident in the downward curve of her mouth, the tension in her jaw as she tried not to cry. He wanted to hold her, to protect her, but he had forfeited any right to do that. He could not even offer her his arm in such a public place. They strolled on in silence and after a while she began to speak again, as if she thought it was necessary to explain about her brother.

  ‘Mama became ill soon after Randolph was born and there was no one but me to look out for him. When he was eight years old he fell from a tree. He suffered nothing worse than bruises, but my hugs and kisses eased the pain. I was his big sister, always there to love and comfort him, until he was sent away to school, where it seems to me that he learned only how to drink and gamble and spend money. But whenever he came home he curbed his wildness and was a loving son.’ She stopped, as if reliving the past. ‘Then Papa died and Mama retired to Fallbridge. I was too busy looking after her to see that he was getting himself into trouble. But after she had died, I should have gone to Liverpool more often. If only I had been there with Ran, to protect him, to help him.’

  ‘We can all look back and think if only, Deb.’ The words were
coming from his heart and Gil realised with a shock that he was speaking to himself as well as her. ‘There is nothing we can do to change the past. We can only live for the future.’

  He knew now that his thirst for revenge had been as much about his own guilt as anything else. He had not been there to protect his family when they needed him, but instead of acknowledging those feelings of guilt he had allowed them to fester into an all-consuming rage that had merely buried his grief, not assuaged it. He knew it was too late to mend the damage he had done. Deborah would never forgive him for trying to exact his revenge through her, but perhaps he could redress the balance, just a little.

  ‘I give you my word I will rescue you, and your brother, from this coil.’

  ‘How do you propose to do that?’

  ‘I do not yet know, but it must be soon. It is too dangerous for you to remain much longer in Grafton Street. If I have been able to discover Warslow’s scheme, then the Bank inspectors will soon know of it.’ He frowned. ‘We must try to find something, anything, that will incriminate Warslow rather than your brother. Perhaps you could leave a door unlocked one night and I could search the house.’

  ‘There is no need for that. I can do so much more effectively.’

  ‘You must not put yourself in danger.’

  She did not answer, but the determined set of her chin told him she would not heed his warning. She would do anything to save her brother. A memory stirred.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘what do you know of a ship called the Margaret?’

  ‘Randolph is part-owner,’ she responded, surprised. ‘It is our last remaining link with the family business. I think Papa kept it because it was named after his mother, our grandmother. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Something I learned in Liverpool. I believe it is bringing some furniture to London for your brother.’

  ‘And why not? If it comes by water it is more likely to reach us in one piece than if it were transported on an ox cart. You do not think…? No, no, I would personally vouch for the captain. He was a personal friend of my father’s and an honest man. He would never carry an illicit cargo. If he knew of it.’ She gave a little gasp of dismay. ‘Oh, heavens, perhaps forged notes would be hidden inside the furniture.’

  Gil waved a hand dismissively, wishing he had not spoken. ‘I am merely speculating. Pray to not let it worry you.’

  But Gil knew it would worry her. Fighting the temptation to keep her with him any longer, he used his cane to indicate the fork in the path just ahead of them.

  ‘We should part here. It is not wise to spend too long together.’

  ‘No. I agree.’

  So we must not meet again until I have some news for you.

  ‘So I shall meet you here tomorrow.’ Gil closed his eyes briefly as he realised what he had said, knowing it was madness.

  ‘Very well.’ They stopped and for the first time she looked up at him. ‘Thank you, my lord.’

  Her green eyes were shadowed with anxiety and she looked so forlorn that his arms ached to pull her close and kiss away her worries, but that would only send her flying from him and he might lose his opportunity to help her, so he contented himself with raising his hand and running the backs of his fingers along her cheek. It was smooth as satin to his touch and immediately desire flared within him. He stamped it down, but dragging his hand away was like pulling against a magnet.

  ‘Do not look so worried, D—Miss Meltham. I will save your brother, if I have to knock him over the head and carry him away.’

  She sighed. ‘We both know even that will not save him. Nominally it is Ran’s servants who are passing on these counterfeit notes. And if you are correct about the Margaret, then that, too, would point to Randolph being involved. Sir Sydney has done everything he can to make sure the blame will land upon my brother, if their scheme is discovered.’

  He could not deny it. If Warslow was caught he would have no hesitation in implicating Kirkster. Even if the boy turned King’s evidence he would still face transportation, a gruelling sea journey that would probably kill him.

  ‘It will not come to that,’ he said, with more confidence than he felt.

  He was rewarded when the faint crease on her brow disappeared and she gave him a brave little smile.

  ‘I know you will do your best, my lord.’ With a little nod she turned to go on her way, but he put a hand on her arm.

  ‘Deborah—I know you have no reason to trust me, but—’

  Her head came up, the shuttered look returned to her eyes.

  ‘I am doing this for my brother’s sake, my lord, and I believe he is innocent, even if you do not.’

  And with that she turned and walked briskly away.

  * * *

  Deborah did not return directly to Grafton Street. Instead she spent an hour in New Bond Street, making several purchases while she considered all that Gil had told her. Her blood ran cold to think that Warslow was distributing his forged notes from Randolph’s house, and although she hoped it might not be true she really did not doubt it. The risks to her brother and herself were huge and it made her feel so angry that she wanted to go back and challenge Sir Sydney immediately, but she knew that was far too dangerous. She must find a way to remove Randolph from London, or trust Gil to do so. And the strange part was she did trust him.

  ‘But that does not mean I shall ever forgive him,’ she muttered as she set off for Grafton Street. She would allow him to help her, but then, for her own peace of mind, she decided it would be best if she never saw nor heard of Viscount Gilmorton again.

  * * *

  Nevertheless, when she found Gil waiting for her on the path the following morning she could not deny the rush of pleasure she felt at the sight of him. It was quickly followed by anger at her own weakness and she resolved to put an end to it.

  ‘You should not be here,’ she said, when he told her he had no news. ‘It is too dangerous—what if we are seen and word reaches Sir Sydney?’

  ‘But you might have something for me,’ he reasoned.

  ‘Then Elsie would bring word to the Running Man, as we agreed. I have searched most of the house, but cannot find anything suspicious. However, I have not yet had the opportunity to search my brother’s study and that is the most likely place to find something.’

  ‘I wish you would not do anything that will put you at risk.’

  The concern in his voice was like a caress. It sent a flutter through her body, as if someone had opened a net full of butterflies in her chest. She recalled how he had made her feel loved, cherished, and she was dismayed to find he still had that power, even though he was most likely quite unaware of it. The only way she could combat the longing it roused within her was with anger which, even to her own ears, sounded half-hearted.

  ‘Meeting you here every day is putting me at far greater risk!’

  ‘Then tomorrow we will meet somewhere else. The circulating library in Piccadilly, perhaps. What do you say to that?’

  Just the sound of his voice was like the touch of velvet on her skin. It distracted her and made it difficult to concentrate.

  ‘No. Yes.’ She shook her head, trying to clear the contradictory thoughts that were crowding in. ‘No. I will not be there.’ She closed her lips, knowing this was the safest, most sensible thing to do. But then, just as he was preparing to leave her, she burst out, ‘Unless I have something useful to tell you.’

  ‘Of course, Miss Meltham.’ He touched his hat. ‘Until tomorrow, ma’am.’

  His voice was grave, but there was a warm smile in his grey eyes that brought the colour flooding to her cheeks. As if he knew perfectly well how much she wanted to see him.

  She hunched one shoulder and hurried away.

  ‘Conceited man,’ she muttered. ‘Hateful, odious creature!’

  ‘I beg your
pardon, miss, did you speak to me?’

  Elsie was almost running to keep up with her and Deb moderated her pace, but her indignation was still growing and she could not help giving vent to her feelings.

  ‘Lord Gilmorton is the rudest, most objectionable man I have ever met. I wish we never had met! I should have known he was a villain the moment I saw his hideously scarred face.’

  Deborah bit her lip, appalled that her temper had caused her to say such a dreadful thing. She had never been repelled by his scar and now she barely noticed it, but she had wanted to strike out and hurt him in order to relieve her own pain. Blinking back tears of mortification, she hurried on with her maid walking beside her.

  Elsie cleared her throat. ‘Well, if you will pardon me for saying so, miss, I think his lordship has a very nice face. Despite that nasty scar. Handsome, I’d say.’

  ‘You, you would?’ said Deborah in a small voice.

  ‘Why, yes, ma’am, I would,’ replied Elsie. ‘And it ain’t like you to take against a person for their looks. And,’ she went on, much more confident now, ‘if his lordship wasn’t trying to help us then I don’t know where we’d be and that’s a fact!’

  But you do not know him, Elsie. You do not know that he stole my innocence!

  Deb bit her lip even harder. No, he had not stolen anything from her. He had promised her nothing. She had been perfectly aware of what she was doing and had gone to him willingly, given herself willingly. That he had had an ulterior motive for seeking her out and taking her to his bed had hurt her, terribly, but she understood his reasons and pitied him for the grief and pain that he must have been suffering. She also conceded that he might have been telling her the truth when he said that he had planned to send her away on that fateful night. After all, what choice did he have, when she had practically undressed before him? She acknowledged now that if he had rejected her at that moment she would have been desperately hurt and humiliated.