The Sweet and Spicy Regency Collection

by Dorothy McFalls

  Ah, May . . . a future with you is naught but a pretty fairy tale. Children may believe in such a romantically outrageous ending. Adults are trained to be far more practical.

  His future waited a few blocks away.

  “I am pleased you find pleasure in my decision,” he said warmly to his mother. “Your happiness is very important to me.”

  “As yours is to me, dear.” She gave his arm a gentle pat. “As yours is to me.”

  Lady Evers craned forward then, tilting her head one way and then the other. “Whatever could that be about?” she whispered while craning forward further still. She’d scooted so far off the bench she was in danger of falling off.

  Radford searched the road. His landau was rounding The Circus. A few pedestrians, three young women giggling as they followed an older couple, were strolling on the sidewalk. A carriage rolled by in the other direction. Two carriages sat motionless in front of a couple of townhouses, with grooms attending to the waiting horses. Other than that, he could see nothing. Certainly none of the activity visible on the street was out of the ordinary.

  “What is it? What do you see?” he asked when his mother gasped and fell back on the squabs in a near swoon.

  “Shameful . . . disgraceful,” she muttered. “A harlot being tossed from a home, here, in this respectable area? I cannot believe my eyes.”

  “Really? Where?” Radford asked more to placate his upset mother than out of any kind of perverse interest in viewing another man’s dirty affairs.

  “There.” An accusing finger shot out to identify a townhouse a few doors into the circular row of houses known as The Circus.

  What the devil?

  Radford perched forward on the bench to get a better view. Time moved at a painfully slow pace as he watched a nightmare unfold.

  May, dressed in the same burgundy gown she’d been wearing when he’d met with her earlier in the day, stood at the open door. A long, elegant sleeve had been ripped away. Part of the ruined bodice hung open. She tugged wildly at the wide, masculine arm holding her. A look of naked terror on her elfish face, dimly illuminated in the yellowy lamplight, froze the blood in his veins.

  He rose shakily to his feet, prepared to leap from his landau while it still moved.

  “Hold there,” he called to his driver and swung open the door.

  “Radford!” his mother screamed and wrapped her arms around his strong leg. He fell back onto the bench as his damnable weakened leg collapsed under the strain from his sudden shift of weight.

  He watched in horror as May tore free from her attacker, tripped down the steps, and ran blindly into the brick road. His horses, startled by her sudden appearance in front of them as they were slowing their pace, whinnied and reared. The landau creaked and jolted forward.

  May screamed.

  A deadly silence followed.

  No! Radford pried his mother’s hands from his body and jumped down to the ground. No! He dragged his weaker leg behind him, not caring what he looked like or how he moved. All he cared about was getting to May . . . to seeing her safe.

  “There was naught a thing I could do to save ‘er, m’lord. I swear it. I didn’t even see ‘er,” his driver cried, wringing his hands as he gazed down at May’s crumpled body.

  A trickle of blood oozed from high on her forehead.

  “No,” Radford whispered. He dropped to the road and gathered May into his arms. Cradling her, he hugged her against his chest and felt for any sign of life, no matter how small. She was still in his arms, too still. “Live, damn it. If I have to cling to this cursed mortal coil, you do too.”

  He glanced up pleadingly at the sky. His gaze chanced on the open door and the man who’d tormented her, the man who’d driven her to run in front of his horses.

  The Earl of Redfield.

  A horsewhip hung in his hand. A murderous gleam darkened his face. Why hadn’t Radford seen it? The bounder had been set on ruining May’s life from the start. His power and his comfortable lifestyle were being threatened. Radford should have worried about May’s safety after telling her the truth about her uncle. She must have confronted him and roused the greedy man’s wrath.

  “I should have protected you.” He brushed her hair away from her bloody brow and pressed a handkerchief to her forehead. He’d never forgive himself if she died. Losing May would leave a gaping hole in his heart, which, like his leg, would never heal.

  With a shout, Wynter pushed the earl aside and charged down the steps and across the road. Lady Iona followed closely behind, pausing only long enough to stomp the earl’s toe on her way past.

  After that, time began to gush at a hell-or-high-water speed. It took all of Radford’s concentration just to keep up.

  “Is she dead?” Lady Iona wailed and tossed herself into Wynter’s arms.

  “No.” Radford pressed his palm to her chest and felt a strong, steady heartbeat move underneath her tattered gown. “But she does need immediate care.”

  He glanced up again. The door to the Earl of Redfield’s townhouse had closed. The light in the front parlor had been extinguished. He’d get no help from that villain.

  “Wynter, fetch the best doctor you can find. I’m going to take May back to Longbranch House. She’ll be safe there.”

  “My father—” Lady Iona started to say only to be hushed by Wynter.

  “Let Radford handle this.” Wynter unfurled his arms from Lady Iona’s shoulders and bent down to pluck May from Radford’s arms. Radford refused, holding tightly to May’s body. He unreasonably wanted to keep his woodland sprite pressed against his chest until he knew she was truly safe.

  As if he could protect her. Hah! Her weight trapped him to the ground as surely as his dying horse had on the Peninsula. Radford reluctantly released his hold. As it was, he’d have a struggle to stand with his arms empty, which he started to do as inelegantly as anyone could imagine. He floundered like a fish out of water until Lady Iona offered him a hand. Swallowing pride and a goodly portion of his manhood, he reached out and allowed the slight woman to assist him back into the landau.

  “Oh my, oh my,” his mother was muttering. She weaved on the bench. Her skin was as pale as the moon, and she appeared to be on the verge of collapse. Wynter and Lady Iona looked fairly ill themselves.

  “I will come with you, Lord Evers,” Lady Iona said. She dabbed at her tear-stained cheeks. “I can help with May and your mother.”

  Radford was grateful for the assistance. “Of course, please do.” He moved aside to make room while pulling May into his lap.

  “Go Wynter! Get a doctor!” he barked the order, and as soon as Lady Iona was settled, he gave a nod to his anxious driver to put the horses back into action.

  A block into the drive May’s eyes fluttered open and she sighed roughly when they bounced over a loose stone. Radford’s chest contracted tightly as she stared up at him with wide eyes. Such confusion tainted her lovely violet gaze. If only he could bathe her with kisses and wipe her fears away.

  “Aunt Winnie . . . ” May whispered, turning in his arms. Fighting him. A perfect round breast looked as though it might fall free of her ripped bodice. “Please, Winnie . . . ”

  “Hush, my love. Let me take care of you.” With no thought about the sharp gazes of his mother or Lady Iona watching his every move, he reverently cupped her breast and the soft velvet of her gown. Her chest rose and fell with deep regularity with each smooth breath. Radford took comfort in feeling her warm satiny soft skin. She felt very, very alive.

  He didn’t realize how inappropriate it must look for him to continue touching her, lightly caressing her, until his mother, her lips set in a thin line, reached over and moved his hand. She placed his fingers so he’d clasp May’s shoulder instead.

  Radford shifted slightly, embarrassed. What the two ladies with their set stares must think of him.

  May blinked heavily. Her gaze settled on his face, and a slight smile creased her lips. The adorable look left Radford itching to cover her
petal-soft mouth with his.

  Here he was, a gentleman mere hours from proposing marriage to another, goggling over a half-conscious woman whose weak smile sent his heart tripping like some helpless lovelorn swain.

  This was madness. Pure madness.

  Chapter 18

  May woke up in a strange bed feeling quite out of sorts. Her head throbbed, her arms felt painfully stiff, and her knees burned as if they’d been scraped raw. The strange bed had a full and luxurious down mattress that vexed her. She clutched the heavy comforter to her neck and worried her mind trying to remember what had happened.

  “Aunt Winnie!” She jolted up in bed, only to be confounded by a spinning room. “Aunt . . . ”

  Her head settled back to the silky pillow. A fire smoldered in the fireplace across the room. Clearly the coals had been recently tended. A painting of a happy sheepdog hung on the wall between two floor-to-ceiling windows. Snatches of sunlight stole into the room from around a pair of heavy burgundy drapes . . . drapes nearly the same shade as the velvet gown she’d worn.

  Still feeling dreadfully confused, May slowly lifted the bedding and peered underneath. Her gown was gone. A soft lawn chemise with a satin tie at the neck now covered her.

  A stranger’s house wearing a stranger’s nightclothes. The last thing she remembered—or had that been a dream—was being cradled in Radford’s arms. Had he truly called her his love? No, those fantastic memories could only be from some wondrous dream.

  May closed her eyes and tried to conjure real memories . . . and push away those gentle thoughts created purely by some anomaly brought on by a blow to the head.

  “Aunt Winnie had collapsed,” she said aloud as the events of the previous day slowly returned. A sob burst out as she remembered seeing her aunt lying on her uncle’s bed. She’d looked so pale. So very weak. “Oh, Winnie.”

  Be brave. For Winnie she’d have to be brave and figure this all out.

  “I’d quarreled with Uncle Sires. He was being most unreasonable.” Oh yes, she remembered now. Her heart raced as she recalled how he’d threatened her. He’d been so angry. Out of his head, really. He’d been poised to beat her with that leather horsewhip when she’d bit him and fled like a banshee from his townhouse.

  From there her memory turned fuzzy. Dreamlike. Had she been trapped in a nightmare or a fantasy? A horse had frightened her. Hooves kicking up to kill her!

  With a shout, May shot up in the bed and scooted toward the rosewood carved headboard in an attempt to escape the terrifying images.

  “Hush, hush, dearie.” A slightly crooked maid hurriedly placed a platter on a small dresser and rushed to May’s side. “Just lie still now. That’s what the master said you needed to do to get well again. Just lie still and all will be well.”

  The room was spinning again, but less so than before, thank goodness. May let the older maid arrange the bedding around her until she was tucked in as tightly as dough in a pan.

  “Thank you, um . . . um?”

  “The name’s Lottie, Miss.” The smiling lady lightly caressed May’s forehead. “I’ve been the lady’s maid for thirty years now. And she told me to take real good care of you. His lordship, you see, is worried something fierce. He didn’t sleep at all last night. Since it wouldn’t be proper for him to step foot inside this room, he paced the hall just outside until dawn, the poor cove. And the lady doesn’t like to see him upset. She tells me she wants you well as soon as possible.”

  May wiggled from under the covers so she could sit up against the mound of pillows at the top of the bed. “The lady you speak of? Who is she?”

  “The Viscountess Evers, Miss Sheffers,” the words rolled very properly off a refined tongue before Lottie could answer. May’s gaze darted toward the bedroom’s open door. Lady Evers, dressed in a stark black gown, glowered as she surveyed the room. “You may leave us now, Lottie. I will call for you when Miss Sheffers is ready to eat the porridge you’ve brought up.”

  Lottie murmured promises to return soon and curtsied deeply for the viscountess before scurrying from the room. A clock somewhere nearby chimed the hour.

  Ignoring her aches, May raised herself higher in the bed and smoothed her hand over the comforter. “May I inquire the hour, my lady?” May asked somewhat sedately.

  “It is eleven in the morning.”

  “Eleven? Oh, dear. I have never slept so late.”

  The viscountess smiled tightly. “You were ill.” She stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her with a snap. “I trust you are feeling better.”

  “I am still a little dizzy—” May started to explain.

  “That will soon pass. The doctor did not appear at all concerned last night. I trust his judgment and so should you.” A bitter edge to her soft voice caught May off-guard.

  “Yes, of course, I didn’t mean to complain.”

  “Of course.”

  “My aunt, Lady Winifred?” May ignored the matron’s cool demeanor. She had much more pressing concerns to think about than the reason for the viscountess’ unhappy mood. “Is there any news on her condition? My uncle took her to his townhouse after she collapsed.”

  “Lady Iona Newbury arrived early this morning with all sorts of information.” Lady Evers lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed and continued to glower. She produced a note from a fold in her skirt.

  “Yes? I beg you, tell me of my aunt. She is all I have.”

  “She is, isn’t she, you poor dear.” There was no compassion in the sentiment. “Your aunt is stronger this morning. Her doctors are confident that with diligent care she should recover much of her strength.”

  May breathed a sigh of relief and felt her taut muscles relax into the fluffy bedding. “Thank God,” she whispered.

  “You will want to visit her right away, I suppose?”

  “Oh, yes. She depends on me, and I love her very much.”

  Lady Evers clucked her tongue and wagged her head slowly. “The earl is most upset, however. That shocking scene you orchestrated in front of his home mortified him. I must admit I was horrified having to witness such base behavior from a young lady. Such screaming and blatant displaying of your body . . . I shudder to think upon it.”

  “He was trying to harm me. I only wished escape,” May tried to explain. She remembered the horse again . . . and its great hooves poised to crush her. Her mouth went dry.

  “Radford saved me?” Could he really have called her “his love”? Did he truly hold her tightly in his arms? “Please, I don’t remember what happened once I fled my uncle’s.”

  “It is just as well that you don’t.” The viscountess leaned forward. She placed the letter she’d been holding on her lap and took May’s hand to cradle between her frosty palms. Her slender fingers rubbed the tops of May’s knuckles. “You are fond of my son.”

  Lady Evers had stated May’s feelings toward Radford as if they were common knowledge. Certainly May’s behavior toward him in public hadn’t betrayed her deepest feelings. Certainly she’d acted more carefully than that.

  May tried to draw her hand away. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  The lady tightened her grasp. “Now, now. Let’s not play the coquette. You do not have the personality or the delicate physique to succeed with such games. I’ve watched you. I know.”

  She knew? May fought a desire to crawl under the covers and hide. “Very well,” she forced herself to say calmly while tightening her chin. “I do feel a certain warmth for the viscount.”

  “As does he for you, foolish boy. I don’t know what you’ve done to him, but he seems quite captivated.”

  Radford captivated? Could it be possible? May’s cheeks stung as a blush bloomed over her face and down her neck to touch her chest.

  Lady Evers lifted the letter she’d set aside and tapped it against May’s hand. “I’ve corresponded with the Duchess of Newbury on this matter just this morning, and she assured me that you are a reasonable girl.”

  Praise
from the duchess was a rarity. Iona’s mother had never approved of May’s attachment with the Newbury family. She’d made it plainly known that if she’d had her way, May’s entire existence would be ignored.

  Luckily, the duke heartily disagreed.

  Hearing that the duchess had actually called her “reasonable” gave May cause for alarm. “What else did she say?” May asked, eyeing the letter with grave concern. With the brush of a quill, the duchess could make her life even more difficult. May might be completely rejected by the ton if they knew the full truth of her father’s past.

  Such a man has no place in polite society, Uncle Sires had always insisted.

  “Her grace is not pleased, you must know. My boy was to propose to her daughter last night. That scene you created ruined those plans. Despite my pleas, Radford remained here to worry over your trifling injuries instead of keeping his dinner appointment with the Newbury family.”

  “Oh?” Then he wasn’t engaged to Lady Lillian yet? Knowing that he was still an eligible bachelor shouldn’t have lightened May’s mood, but it did.

  “Miss Sheffers, you cannot truly believe that my son, a viscount, could possibly marry you. You must see that such a match is impossible.”

  Of course she saw that. She knew her place only too well. Yet, she jutted out her chin and tried to look as defiant as possible as if she could scare the truth away.

  “What do you think would happen if my Radford were to marry you, a woman with a history of finding disasters?” Lady Evers asked. Her voice grew a little shrill. “Do you think society would stand for such an ill-advised match? Do you think he would be able to keep the political influence the Evers family has cultivated for generations after proving he cannot even be trusted to pick a proper wife? If you care even a little for Radford, you must let him go.”

  May’s shoulders slumped. No matter how defiantly she held her chin, the truth would never go away.

  Lady Evers slipped the letter from its envelope. “Her grace was kind enough to share a little of your background with me. Your father’s mother was an unmarried gypsy. She and her people raised your father until his twelfth year. You were born to a bastard gypsy father who’d stolen your mother despite the Earl of Redfield’s efforts to protect her. Your father befouled a gently born lady and produced you.”