Second Chance Love: A Regency Romance Set

by Wendy Lacapra

  “Love me?”

  Niles swallowed hard before touching his lips to her forehead again.

  “I have since I met you.” His whispered words were met by silence. Perhaps she hadn’t been so ashamed after all. But then, no. He dismissed the thought. She was out of her head with exhaustion. “I’ll see you tomorrow love. Rest up.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Always the Money

  “Mrs. Mossant? You must not dally. There’s little time to dress.” Eve didn’t recognize the nervous voice pulling her from sleep. “I’ve hot tea and something for you to eat. Mr. Mossant has requested you join him in the study in one hour.”

  The words barely penetrated this fog she couldn’t seem to escape. Mr. Mossant? But Jean Luc was dead.

  When had this cloying fog dropped on her? Eve tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. So dry.

  Hands pulled her to sit up and began tugging at her gown. A woman’s hands. A maid. Not Lucy. Where was Lucy? “Come this way, Missus.” The hands assisted her off the bed so that Eve stood swaying unsteadily.

  Her old suite. The one she’d occupied years ago. When she’d lived with Jean Luc.

  Jean Luc. That’s when the fog lowered around her. She’d been staring at his lifeless corpse contemplating the tragedy of his life. Darius had entered behind her. He’d told her she’d gone pale.

  She couldn’t remember anything after that. She must have fainted.

  And now she could hardly open her eyes. She’d never been one of those squeamish women. Why had she fallen apart then?

  And why could she not rouse herself now?

  Tea. All she needed was some tea.

  Eve fought to open her eyes and took the cup from the unfamiliar maid.

  “Where is Lucy?”

  “Lucy, ma’am? I wouldn’t know who Lucy is. You’ll have to ask Mr. Mossant.” The maid helped Eve to the bench in front of the vanity and began brushing out her hair. The calming strokes of a brush never failed to soothe her. Eve took another sip and closed her eyes again.

  She’d dreamed of Niles. That he’d come to her. Held her and called her his ‘love.’ Oh, the fog was falling again. Had she fallen asleep sitting here?

  “Eve, my love. You look ravishing.” A strong arm assisted her to her feet.

  Weights seemed to hold her eyelids closed. She wanted to see. Was this Jean Luc holding her arm? Not Niles? Niles was taller. Stronger.

  Safer.

  Using all her strength, she barely was able to crack open one eye.

  She could make out a few forms, but they were shrouded in the black fog.

  “Thank you,” she managed, and then gave into the arms holding her up. All she wanted to do was sleep.

  ***

  Worry plagued Niles as he made his way to the study for the reading of the will the next morning. A disquieting thought had struck him in the middle of the night.

  Where had Lucy gone? Why hadn’t Eve’s maid been with her?

  Had she taken ill again, herself? She hadn’t been well enough to travel initially. Or had she simply been occupied elsewhere?

  He’d spent what remained of the night studying the numbers and transactions in the document’s Mossant had provided. Nothing surprising in the accounts. What had interested Niles was the page that had been torn out at the end.

  He’d used a piece of charcoal to lift the indentions from the blank page beneath it.

  A number had been written boldly and underlined twice. It was the precise amount of Eve’s winnings. And Eve’s winnings amounted to only three hundred pounds more than the negative number at the end of the ledger.

  Regardless of whether the dead Mossant or the live one had written it, one thing was becoming very clear to Niles. The owner of Pebble’s Gate believed the answer to all his troubles lay in Eve Mossant. And the obvious means to get to her would be marriage.

  The door to the study had been propped open, and the room was already mostly occupied. A few servants, including Mr. Forrester, had taken the chairs set back from the desk. Mossant and a woman draped in black, sat behind it.

  Eve? Surely it wasn’t.

  Only it was. He knew that posture. The lovely tilt of her head, but shrouded in black?

  “Ah, Mr. Waverly, thank you for coming. We’ve been waiting for you.” The doors closed shut behind him, and Mr. Mercer Priebus, Jean Luc Mossant’s personal solicitor, gestured for Niles to take a seat.

  Niles glanced at the clock. He’d been told the reading would be at ten in the morning. It was only now nine forty-five.

  Mossant sat with a smug look on his face. Of course, he’d told Niles the wrong time.

  Eve hadn’t so much as angled her head in his direction. Closer now, he could make out her profile, the outline of her lips, and her downcast eyes hidden behind the dark veil.

  “Most of this is a mere formality. I’m sorry if any of you have traveled far with hopeful expectations.” Mr. Priebus donned a pair of spectacles and continued squashing the few servants’ hopes. “Although the deceased made mention of stipends for, ahem, Mr. Reginald Forrester, Mrs. Maude Cooley, Mr. Donald Smith, and a Mr. John Blaycock, the estate’s funds have been absorbed by debts incurred by…” And he went on to list a litany of vendors, some reputable and some not so much.

  “Mr. Darius Mossant, as the next male in the deceased’s line of kin inherits the Pebble’s Gate estate and all debt and incomes incurred and generated.”

  “Mrs. Mossant.” The solicitor addressed Eve. “As the deceased’s widow, you are welcome to reside at Pebble’s Gate at Mr. Darius Mossant’s discretion. In the event he decides to evict, a dowager house on the north side of the property shall be opened up and made available.”

  Niles knew of Eve’s plan to reside in London. He looked to her for some response — any response at all. What had happened to the woman he’d known the past year? The woman he’d left here yesterday morning?

  “I’d like a word with my client.” Niles rose and crossed the room to stand before her. “Mrs. Mossant?” He held out his hand.

  “She has no further need of your services, Waverly. Isn’t that right, my darling?” Mossant placed one arm around her shoulders. Eve seemed to nod, almost as though moving under water.

  Niles dropped to his haunches, taking her hands in his. What in the hell was going on?

  “Mrs. Mossant, Eve. He didn’t give a God damn at this point what anyone thought. “You haven’t any intentions of staying on at Pebble’s Gate, do you?” He willed her to raise her chin and tear off the black veil.

  “But of course, she’s staying on. We’re to be married by special license this afternoon.”

  Oh, hell no. But why was Eve not making her own denial?

  “Is this true?” Niles rubbed her cold hands between his.

  “You’ll remove your hands from my fiancée.”

  Again, Eve made no protest.

  She might as well have slapped him. Could this be what she wanted?

  “What have you done to her?” Niles demanded as arms grabbed him from behind. The servants were already shuffling toward the door, and Mr. Priebus was gathering some papers together.

  Darius Mossant clucked his tongue obnoxiously. “Such a shame. She told me everything. How you’d fallen in love with her, taken advantage of her weakened state. I expect all of her personal accounts transferred to me without delay. With a husband, Mrs. Mossant shall no longer require your services.”

  Niles didn’t care that the arms clasped around him were crushing his ribs which had not even begun to heal. He threw all his weight forward and managed to make contact with Mossant’s chin.

  “Get him out of here!” The blighter’s hand flew up just in time to catch the tooth that had broken free. The arms around Niles grasped tighter, dragging him out the door.

  He was no match for two hefty laborers.

  In less than two minutes, they tossed him unceremoniously onto the gravel drive.

  Niles stared up at the wispy clouds set agai
nst a blindingly blue sky.

  He was getting too old for this sort of thing.

  “Mr. Waverly? What on earth are you doing on the ground?”

  “Been out drinking, old man?”

  Eve’s eldest daughter and her husband. Niles turned his head in time to see the Countess and Earl of Carlisle making their way in his direction. Niles had no idea where they’d come from but was happy enough at their timely arrival.

  It was all the encouragement he needed to push himself off the ground. And he only groaned a little as he found his feet.

  “My Lady.” He nodded. “Lord Carlisle. I’ve reason to believe Mrs. Mossant is in danger.” He brushed the gravel from his backside and undertook to explain his suspicions.

  “He says mother’s agreed to marry him? But that’s outrageous!” Lady Carlisle made a move toward the manor, but her husband grasped hold of her arm.

  “Rhododendron.” The earl pulled her closer. “If your mother is in danger, I’ll not have you charging inside. We need the magistrate.”

  The young woman, who looked so much like her mother, was shaking her head in denial. “But Mama would never agree to marry. Not unless she was in love, and I’ve met Cousin Darius. Believe me, she is not in love with him. Why on earth is she going along with this?”

  “She’s been drugged.” It was all beginning to make sense to Niles now. “It’s the only explanation.”

  Lady Carlisle wrung her hands together.

  “Rhoda.” Carlisle turned to his wife. “Have the driver take you to fetch the magistrate.”

  Niles had an idea. “Excellent. Meanwhile, Carlisle, you and I can stop the wedding. I believe I know exactly what will accomplish that.”

  The countess nodded. “Be careful, Justin, and you too Mr. Waverly. Don’t let her marry him!” She then took off at breakneck speed toward the stables while Niles began sharing his plan with Lord Carlisle.

  “Remember that ship that went down last month? Well…”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  If Anyone Has Any Objections…

  This was wrong. Eve knew it was in her mind, but her thoughts would not connect to her voice. Or her body.

  The veil, the darkness. And the fact that two very large brutes had dragged Niles away.

  Whose arm was she leaning upon? Niles ought to be beside her. She fought through the heaviness and forced herself to hear the words being read out loud.

  The reading of the will?

  “…we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of these witnesses, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the time of man's innocence…”

  A wedding?

  Rhoda and Carlisle had married already, hadn’t they? Of course, they had. He’d whisked her away… Eve had never been so happy as when Rhoda and Carlisle married. Her eldest had fallen into a love match.

  The man beside her vibrated as he mumbled something…

  Eve would be utterly content if Coleus and Holly found themselves husbands with even half as much good character as Lord Carlisle. Even so, if they did not, they’d never worry about security. They could remain with her. Host exhibitions and readings at their home.

  She would purchase her home in London now that Jean Luc was gone.

  Niles had assured her she’d have no difficulties.

  “Marigold Evelyn Mossant.” The voice read.

  How she hated her given name. Marigold. But then she’d done the same to her own daughters. A hint of a smile touched her lips. She’d protect her daughters with her life. Darius Mossant would never get his hands on Coleus, as he’d hinted. He was too much like his uncle. Too much like Jean Luc. Eve had sensed it after only a few minutes in his presence.

  The memory, for some reason, brought her back to the present. She was leaning upon Darius. Not Niles.

  And then the words floating around the room began to take shape.

  “Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

  Silence.

  “Eve dear, tell the man yes.” That voice, so much like Jean Luc’s sent shivers racing down her spine.

  “No.” Barely a whisper emerged past her dry lips. She swallowed and summoning all her strength lifted her chin. “No.”

  “She doesn’t mean it.” Darius again, trying to silence her now.

  “No.” She spoke the word again and pushed away from the arm she’d been leaning on.

  How had this happened? Hands gripped her elbow so tightly that it hurt. But she welcomed the pain. Something was very wrong with her.

  The tea.

  He’d put something in her tea.

  Memories of people attending some of Jean Luc’s parties, lying about with heavy lids and blanks stares, pressed themselves upon her. The opium.

  God help her. She’d been drugged.

  “Send for my maid, please.” Eve tried to lift the veil away from her face, but her arm was too heavy.

  “She’s confused.”

  “I think, perhaps, we ought to wait until Mrs. Mossant is feeling better?” The vicar suggested.

  “If you value your position you’ll continue with the ceremony.”

  But the ceremony would, indeed, be delayed.

  The heavy door flying open sent Eve jumping. She didn’t move far, however, as the hand holding her squeezed even tighter.

  It seemed, one of the guests was late to arrive.

  Niles.

  Ah, yes, she recognized him through the veil. She’d always recognize his stance, his posture. Like a knight to her rescue, his sturdy frame filled the doorway.

  Her man of business, but so much more.

  “Pardon my interruption, vicar.” Niles sauntered across the room quite unperturbed.

  Eve cheered inwardly at the sound of that calm soothing voice she’d come to love.

  “The groom here has requested some papers from me. I do believe he’ll be quite interested to look at them before making any rash decisions.”

  Eve had no idea what Niles was nattering on about, but it didn’t matter.

  He was here.

  “Explain yourself, Waverly.”

  Darius loosened her arm to swipe the papers away from Niles, leaving Eve standing on her own. She wavered and then leaned against a chair.

  “The investments? Her accounts?”

  Niles chuckled softly. Eve felt not one iota of concern that Niles would hand over the information Darius wanted.

  “What’s left of them.”

  “What do you mean, what’s left of them?” Darius Mossant’s voice shook.

  And then Eve somehow managed to push the veil over up and over her head. “Yes, what do you mean, what’s left of them?” Surely, Niles wouldn’t have been careless with her money.

  “Sometimes investments pay off.” Niles shrugged. “And sometimes, they do not.” He didn’t look all that worried, or contrite for that matter. He turned to Eve, looking quite adorable despite his alarming announcement. Frustrating man that he was.

  “That shipment we discussed, remember? It would have tripled the value of your shares, Mrs. Mossant, and I really hadn’t foreseen much risk but…” He shrugged again. “The Estonia went down last month. I’m sure you heard about. The news has been all over the papers.”

  But they’d decided not to invest there! Oh!

  Oh!

  “My money’s all gone?” Eve would play along. Her dear, sweet, Mr. Waverly was making all of this up.

  “How in the hell am I supposed to afford this damn estate then?” All of the pride and bluster seemed to flee Darius Mossant in that moment as he dropped into a nearby chair.

  “You could try learning how to run it properly. A little work never hurt anybody.” Lord Carlisle spoke up from the doorway
. When had he arrived? If he was here, then surely Rhoda could not be far away.

  Niles was by her side now, leading her to the only settee in the room

  “Eve? Look at me sweetheart. Are you all right?” That familiar cultured, yet completely unaffected voice was nearly her undoing. When had her hands begun shaking? Her legs lacked the strength to keep her up even a moment longer, and her stomach had become disturbingly unsettled.

  “He gave me opium.” She burst into tears. The dawning realization horrified her.

  And the she embarrassed herself quite beyond redemption.

  Nile’s boots would never be the same.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Clear Heads Prevail

  “I knew something must be dreadfully wrong, as soon as Mr. Waverly said you intended to marry.” Rhoda sat beside the bed and dabbed a cool cloth over Eve’s forehead. “Opium! The scoundral! He had to have known how you opposed the poison!”

  “I’ll never forgive him for it.” Although feeling weak and horribly humiliated, Eve no longer experienced the heavy darkness she’d been subdued by for the past twenty-four hours. Shortly after Eve’s…unfortunate bout of sickness, Rhoda had arrived with a magistrate and as luck would have it, Lucy. Apparently, Darius had fired the poor girl. She’d gone into the village and had been looking for Niles.

  With her daughter and maid to assist Eve up the stairs, she wondered that she hadn’t realized earlier that she’d been drugged. Even now, she could hardly lift her feet up each step. All that tea she’d drank… Eve shuddered at the thought and turned her mind to eavesdrop on the arguments drifting up from the study. Loud at first, but gradually subsiding as Niles’ steady voice took control.

  Her mind conjured images of how he’d looked that day in the rain. Catching her from falling, holding her in the shelter of the trees. He’d put her before himself, despite his injury.

  The three women shuffled into her chamber and assisted her onto the bed.