Much Ado about a Widow (The Widows' Club Book 4)

by Jenna Jaxon

  Georgie froze. She had to have her wits about her if she were to get out of this without being ravished. Slowly, she breathed in. She must wait her chance.

  “It won’t be the first time I’ve been in a lady who didn’t know what had happened until I was all done. Fine for me, not so much pleasure for her.” He’d rucked her nightgown up again and proceeded to fumble around his hips.

  Unfortunately, she knew very well what that meant. What could she do to stop him from violating her that would also stop him from shutting off her air? He’d trapped one of her hands beneath his body, but he also had to keep one of his hands on her mouth. So they were more or less evenly matched. Breathing slowly and calmly, she tried to take as much air in as she could. At the same time, she stealthily slid her usable hand down between her legs. If he couldn’t get through to her nether parts, he couldn’t hurt her.

  Suddenly, he lunged on top of her, his hard member pushing against her fingers then sliding upward. As he moved, something cool and squishy landed against her hand. Isaac had called them his jewels. They were indeed priceless. Clamping her fingers around Travers’s soft flesh, Georgie gave a mighty squeeze.

  Travers sat bolt upright, screaming in a loud, high-pitched voice.

  “Help! Help!” The moment his hand left her mouth, she screeched aloud, almost as loudly as her attacker. With a mighty shove, she pushed him out of the bed. She couldn’t see him bumping down the steps, but the thudding of his head told her he’d hit at least one.

  Wild barking erupted from the vicinity of the dressing room.

  “Lulu, attack, attack. Give no quarter!”

  Furious growling turned into yips and tearing cloth.

  Georgie dove for the candle on the bedside table, struck the tender, and lit the wick just as Travers’s screams renewed in volume. She lifted the light over the other side of the bed to find Lulu growling, her teeth sunk into the backside of Travers’s breeches as, still screeching, he attempted to crawl away.

  “Oh, no, my lord. You will face the music in full force.” Leaning down, Georgie grabbed the chamber pot from beneath the bed, lifted it high, and brought it down with all the might she could muster on top of the earl’s head. It shattered into a thousand tiny shards, drenching the man as he lay prostrate on the floor.

  The door to the corridor burst open. Rob and Jemmy raced into the room, the candle in Rob’s hand flickering as they tried to look everywhere at once.

  “Georgie!” Her brother glanced from the body on the floor to her, his face blank and pale.

  “Georgie!” Rob started toward her, only to be met by the still growling Lulu. She’d relinquished Travers’s breeches, although around the tear in the seat Georgie spied a red stain spreading.

  “Lulu, stop. Come.” Georgie sat up on the side of the bed, wiping her eyes with shaking hands. The past few minutes had been a blur of terror she still couldn’t quite comprehend.

  Lulu sailed up the stairs onto the cover and sat beside her mistress.

  Georgie wrapped her arms around the spaniel and dissolved into tears.

  “My love, are you hurt?” Rob tried to make his way to her, but Lulu bared her teeth at him, and he stopped. “If he hurt you . . .”

  “No, he didn’t have a chance to.”

  “What happened, Georgie?” Jemmy had made his way to the bed.

  “I don’t quite know.” She sniffed and let go of Lulu. All she wanted was Rob’s arms around her. “I was asleep, and I woke up when someone got into the bed with me.” She used her sleeve to wipe her eyes. “At first I thought it was y . . . you, Rob.”

  “What?” Jemmy rounded on his friend, fist clenched. “Why would she think you would come into her bedchamber, St. Just?”

  “Jemmy, if you don’t stop that I’ll tell Lulu to bite you.” Opening her arms to Rob, Georgie sent a silent plea.

  He darted forward, disregarding both dog and brother, and swept her up in his arms. Cradling her, he carried her to a chair, and sat, Lulu at their feet. “Shh. It will be all right. I’ve got you now. No one will harm you, ever again. I swear it on my life.”

  She burrowed deeper into his embrace, resting her head on his neck, safe at last. Slowly her heart began to calm.

  “Georgie.” Dropping into a chair next to them, Jemmy peered at her, concern in his face. “Can you please tell us what happened? Travers managed to sneak into your room?” He frowned at Rob. “How is that possible?”

  “My first thought is that someone let him in, but I’ve always considered my servants loyal.” Rob’s tone was grim. “So I pray that is not the case. I will make inquiries to see if that avenue is unfounded. And there is another, very plausible explanation. The smugglers’ tunnel.”

  “A smugglers’ tunnel?” Jemmy blinked. “You really were a pirate?”

  “Not until I stole your sister’s heart away, I wasn’t.” Rob kissed her head.

  “Rob was about to show the tunnel to me when we discovered you and Elizabeth and Lord Travers had arrived. Where is it, Rob?”

  “In the larder, behind a false panel. It slopes directly down to the bottom of the cliff. There’s a hidden entrance there where the smugglers would bring the goods.”

  “How would Travers know about that?” Peering at the unmoving earl, Jemmy frowned.

  “He probably plied one of the old timers with drink until he talked about the good old smuggling days and learned about it that way.”

  “But how did Travers know what room I was in?” An even better question than how he’d gotten into the castle.

  Rob shrugged. “I have no idea. Perhaps he bribed a servant? We have several who live in the village and come in to work during the day. An extra coin would be quite tempting to some of the poorest. We shall try to pry that out of Travers when he awakens.”

  Georgie looked over at the downed peer. He hadn’t moved a muscle. “Do you think he’s dead?”

  “Dead? Who is dead?” Elizabeth rounded the corner of the doorway, her dressing gown flying out behind her, and stopped short. “Oh, dear Lord. Is Lord Travers dead?” She wrinkled her nose. “What is that odor? It smells like—”

  “A chamber pot.” Georgie raised her head. “I hit him with mine.” She turned back to Rob, tears trickling again. “I am so sorry, Rob. I’m afraid I shattered it on Lord Travers’s head, so I hope your mother was not very f-fond of that particular p-pot.”

  Gathering her back to his chest, Rob shushed her again. So comforting to be crooned to that way. He made her feel so warm and loved. She never wanted to leave him.

  “I’m certain she will be happy to give it to such a worthy cause.”

  “Georgie.” Elizabeth had turned her attention on her friend again. “What is going on—Oh!”

  Groaning, Lord Travers stirred for the first time since Georgie had hit him, then sank back to the floor.

  Elizabeth skittered away, and Jemmy hurried to her side. “Stay here out of the way, my dear.” He motioned Rob toward the fallen man. “I believe we have a bit of rubbish that needs throwing out, St. Just.”

  Much to Georgie’s dismay, Rob deposited her in the chair. “Stay there, sweetheart. This won’t take long at all.”

  “How is it you two come to still be dressed?” With a glare of suspicion, Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at Jemmy. “It is the middle of the night, you know.”

  “Nothing suspicious, Lady Brack, I assure you.” Rob grinned at her. “After you and the other ladies retired, Jem and I sat to more brandy and reminisced about our Grand Tour travels. We were just coming up the stairs when we heard Georgie cry out.” He glanced down at Travers. “A good thing we are dressed. We have work to do.”

  “What should we do with him?” Jemmy bent over the earl, then rose swiftly. He clamped a handkerchief over his nose. “That must have been an excellent knock, Georgie. He’s only moved that once, though he is alive.”

  “More’s the pity.” Rob went to stand over the body, black fury in his face. “I say we toss him off the parapet. It wo
uld make our lives so much easier, don’t you think?”

  “Don’t be so bloodthirsty, pirate.” Shivering, Georgie sat up in the chair. She wrapped her arms around her chest, trying to get warm. The fire, though close, couldn’t take away her chill tonight. Only Rob could do that.

  “My dear.” Speeding over to her, Elizabeth stripped her own robe from her and pulled it around Georgie’s shoulders. “It must have been a terrible shock.” She looked up expectantly at Jemmy. “Can you tell me, my love, what did happen?”

  “By some foul means, yet to be determined, Travers entered the castle after most of us had gone to bed, got into Georgie’s bed, and attempted to accost her.” Gingerly, Jemmy leaned over and rolled the earl over on his back. The fall of his trousers fell open, exposing his nether regions, his member shrunk away to nothing and his thingamabobs red and swollen.

  “Dear Lord.” Jemmy reared back as Rob leaned closer.

  “Oh, dear.” Georgie and Elizabeth quickly hid their faces in each other’s necks.

  “Georgie, what . . . happened?” Rob stood as well, looking rather pale.

  “He was trying to ravish me. He had his hand over my mouth, threatening to suffocate me if I moved or tried to scream.” She pulled Elizabeth’s robe tighter around her. “So I managed to put my hand down between my legs, to keep him away. And when he lunged at me, his . . . member slid up onto my wrist and his . . . jewels landed in my hand, so I gave them a hard squeeze.” She demonstrated, making her hand into a fist. “Like I was squishing a ripe peach.”

  Both men groaned and looked away. Jemmy bent at the waist, as if he were in pain, while Rob walked stiffly away, cutting his eyes toward Georgie and shaking his head.

  “For goodness sake, Jemmy.” Elizabeth spoke sharply. She’d raised her head to discover Lord Travers still immodestly unclothed. “Make him decent, if you please.”

  “I’m glad I’m only Georgie’s brother,” Jemmy said, stooping to button up the unfortunate man. “You’re going to be married to her shortly. I’d watch my step if I were you.”

  “Can we please just get him out of my home?” Taking charge again, Rob grabbed Travers under the right arm and motioned to Jemmy to follow suit with the left.

  “You will refrain from tossing him off the roof or out the window, won’t you, my dear?” Georgie called as they headed for the door.

  “I promise to restrain myself as much as possible,” Rob called as they dragged the still unconscious earl from her chamber. “When we’re done, I’ll wake a maid to come clean up the mess.”

  “Elizabeth, can you light our way?” With both hands occupied, Jemmy nodded to the candle she’d set on the bedside table.

  “Will you be all right left alone, my dear?” Sweet that Elizabeth would worry more about her than about her own husband falling down the stairs in the dark.

  “I will be fine. I have my guard dog here with me, don’t I, Lulu?”

  Lulu yipped and stood, as though longing for another fight.

  “Then I will leave you for a short while only. I shall light them down, then return to you.”

  Shaking her head, Georgie rose and handed Elizabeth back her robe. “You need your rest. Go back to bed, and take your husband with you.” The only one Georgie would want in her bed tonight was Rob, and that was impossible given the circumstances. “Good night.”

  As Georgie headed for the door to shut it, she met Rob’s gaze in the uncertain light. The longing in his face exactly matched the longing in her heart. She sighed and gave him a small smile that he returned before he vanished into the dark corridor.

  They had to wait this time. But not for very much longer.

  Chapter Twenty

  “I believe I could have slept the clock around after last night’s excitements. Would you pass me the strawberry jam, Elizabeth?” Slathering butter on a piece of toast, Georgie looked expectantly at Elizabeth.

  “Why didn’t you, my dear? You certainly deserved to keep to your bed much later than this.” Elizabeth handed her the pretty-cut crystal jelly dish, fashioned like a shell.

  “I really had thought I wouldn’t awaken until well after noon, since I don’t believe my eyes closed again until almost dawn.” Even then she’d fallen into a fitful sleep, starting up at imagined noises until exhaustion had claimed her for a little while. “However, I found myself awake and alert at eight o’clock, my stomach very noisily demanding food. So I rang for Clara, and here I am.”

  “You should rest today, my dear. Gather your strength for the coming journey.”

  Eying her half-eaten toast, and imagining the rough seas ahead, Georgie slid the bread and jam back onto her plate. She needed to find a way to distract herself from thinking about their voyage. At least at mealtimes. “Perhaps I shall nap this afternoon. I do want to speak to Rob, but I’ve not seen him this morning.”

  “My son is currently in the kitchen questioning the servants about some intruder who appears to have accosted you last night, Lady Georgina.” Lady St. Just sailed into the breakfast room in a swirl of cerulean-blue silk. “Good morning, ladies.”

  “Good morning, Lady St. Just.”

  “Good morning, my lady.”

  “As I predicted, we shall not be in need of any other type of excitement now that Lady Georgina has come to stay.” The lady sat at the end of the long table nearest Georgie and Elizabeth. “I trust you were not injured in any way, my dear. Rob assures me you acquitted yourself rather handily in thwarting the villain.” Nestling a napkin in her lap, Lady St. Just apparently ignored the strangled expression on Elizabeth’s face and Georgie’s choked-back laugh.

  When she could compose herself, Georgie reached for her abandoned eggcup and tapped smartly on the shell. Appetite restored. Lady St. Just would provide a wonderful distraction. “Thank you, my lady. I believe I did go a far way toward helping with his apprehension.” She looked up from her methodical cracking of her egg. “I fear I did use some unorthodox weaponry, so in the process one of your chamber pots was destroyed. I don’t know if your son mentioned it or not.”

  The marchioness stirred her tea, round and round, her eyes mere slits. “He did not. One raises one’s children to be forthcoming; however, I warn you, Lady Georgina, that does not mean you always reap what you sow. When Robin returns from the kitchen, I shall speak to him about the chamber pot without delay.”

  Good Lord. The last thing Georgie had meant to do was to get Rob in the suds. She hit the egg a glancing blow that took the top clean off. It sailed across the table, onto Elizabeth’s plate.

  Wide blue eyes met hers. The utter shock on Elizabeth’s face only made it worse.

  Georgie bit her lip trying to smother the laugh that would not be stopped. She whooped, laughing so long and so loudly that tears came to her eyes. When finally she calmed enough to gasp in a breath, the laughter continued, not only from Elizabeth, but also from the marchioness herself. Georgie looked up in astonishment.

  “Oh, my dear. I see you prefer golf to tennis then. Well played, indeed.” Lady St. Just touched the napkin to the sides of her eyes. “No wonder my son is enchanted with you. You would have the Prince Regent himself in an apoplexy.”

  “Who is having an apoplexy, Mamma?” Rob strode into the breakfast room on the tail end of his mother’s comment. Looking about the room as if expecting to see someone prostrate, he frowned. “What is going on?”

  That sent them all into another peal of laughter, Georgie holding her sides as her eyes streamed. “My dear, you have come at the exact worst time to get any sense out of us.” Breathing hard to stop her giggles, which then brought on a fit of hiccoughs, she stared fixedly at Rob and held her breath. This often worked when she got the dratted nuisance.

  Still frowning, Rob sat down beside her and laid his napkin in his lap. “I do not see what is so funny about having an apoplexy.”

  They burst out again, laughing even harder. Poor Rob. He must think himself the butt of the jest. Now he was sitting back, eying her coldly, his a
rms tightly crossed over his chest. “Georgina, please tell me what is going on. I have news about Travers, and here you sit, laughing like lunatics.” He trained his stare on his mother. “Even you, Mamma. I am surprised.”

  “Do not be, Robin. I still have a sense of humor, despite my decrepit appearance.”

  The marchioness was an extremely handsome woman, scarcely touched by age, save a tinge of silver in her dark hair. Neither could her face or skin give away her years. Rob, of course, must have heard this all before.

  “If you looked any younger or lovelier, Mamma, the villagers would suspect you of witchcraft or perhaps assume you had found a fountain of youth somewhere in the smugglers’ tunnel.” He managed to shake off his brief fit of pique and smiled at them. “Good morning, ladies. Please forgive my lack of greeting earlier, but I was so completely startled by your conversation, which I still do not understand, that I neglected to give you my greeting. Please accept it now.”

  “Good morning, my lord.” Elizabeth had sobered quicker than the other ladies.

  “Good morning, Robin.” His mother’s glance was sterner. Perhaps she was about to inquire about the dratted chamber pot he hadn’t mentioned.

  Taking matters into her own hands before things could get any more out of hand, Georgie smiled brightly at him and grasped his arm. “Good morning, my dear. We have been conversing about a great many very interesting things this morning.” She cast her mind back, trying to retrieve anything that did not hint at their hilarity. “Such as golf.”

  Elizabeth sputtered and dropped her napkin over the incriminating bit of egg.

  “Why, my love? Do you play?”

  Lady St. Just raised one delicate eyebrow. “Apparently only at the breakfast table.”

  In the mayhem that ensued, Rob gathered bits and pieces of the story, laughing himself finally at the mad circumstances that had led to Georgie’s display of golfing and his own unwitting part in the farce.