Never Miss a Chance (Kellington Book Two)

by Maureen Driscoll

  “Whatever you need, Inspector.” Riverton turned to Mansfield, who was already on his way to summon the servants.

  Stapleton turned to Lynwood. “Your grace, I am commandeering your carriage for the transportation of prisoners.”

  “I shall have it readied straight away,” said Lynwood, who was trying hard to keep the smile from his face.

  “Inspector,” said Lizzie. “I don’t want them in the Lynwood carriage. We just had the seats re-covered. Isn’t there a Riverton coach you can take?”

  “Yes,” said Edith. “Take the one that’s five years old with the broken spring. It’s dreadful.”

  Lizzie turned to Edith. “Why hasn’t your brother replaced it?”

  “He’s terribly stingy,” said Edith. “Says we can share the one that’s three years old, but I want my own. You will talk to him about it, won’t you?”

  “Whatever you say, Edith,” said Lizzie. “Whatever you say.”

  * * *

  Dinner turned out to be a short affair, in part because it’d been so very awkward. Lady Nicholls and Melissa ate in their rooms. They weren’t under arrest. Once they’d realized Inspector Stapleton truly intended to take them back to London and throw them in gaol, they tried to laugh off the entire thing as a most delightful joke. Stapleton warned them that while he wouldn’t be arresting them at the current time, he wouldn’t take kindly to any malicious statements the two might make about anyone who’d been at the house party. Lynwood also impressed upon the two ladies that any attempts to have Stapleton fired would be met with the full wrath of both himself and Riverton. The ladies finally knew when to give up.

  Aunt Prue and Mariah had originally opted to have dinner in their rooms, but the Kellington family had descended upon them en masse and insisted they join everyone else. Lady Riverton and Aunt Prue spent the meal talking about the weather, with occasional input from Mariah.

  Charlotte spent most of the dinner flirting with Lynwood and talking about how terribly common countesses were. Edith and Stalford had eyes only for each other, and were doing something under the table with their feet that Lizzie didn’t quite understand.

  Hal enjoyed watching his oldest brother being tortured by Charlotte, while inwardly planning his next wager with his friends when he returned home. Arthur listened as Miss Rennard and Stapleton discussed the best strategy for apprehending the Marleys.

  And Lizzie just basked in that knowledge that she and Marcus were back together again and headed toward their future.

  * * *

  As Arthur walked Miss Rennard to her bed chamber after dinner, he was confused by what had happened over the past few days. At first, he’d been attracted to her for the obvious reason: she was a beautiful young woman. But the more he got to know her, the more interested he’d become in who she was and not just what she looked like. He’d never been so frightened in his life as when he’d seen her approach the cottage to seek his release. He still couldn’t believe she’d compromised her mission to save a man she barely knew.

  It scared the hell out of him. And made him feel very good, indeed.

  “I’m coming with you,” he said as they arrived at her door. “Tomorrow. We’ll set out after breakfast and track them down – if they survived the river.”

  “That is a very kind offer, Lord Arthur,” she said.

  “It’s just Arthur.”

  “Arthur.” She smiled as she said it. “But the Home Office has very strict rules against involving civilians.”

  “I’m not really a civilian and I thought we’d grown rather close,” said Arthur, as he leaned in to her. “After all, I’ve touched your undergarments.”

  “Fondled them, no doubt.”

  “No, I was waiting to do that until you were in them. What do you say? Will you take me with you? We’ll leave after breakfast.”

  Miss Rennard looked into his eyes. She studied his face. Then she nodded. “Tomorrow. After breakfast.”

  He smiled, then was going to lean down and kiss her, but she slipped through her bed chamber door, which she immediately bolted shut.

  He grinned as he walked back to his room. He couldn’t wait for his adventure with the delectable Miss Tara Rennard.

  * * *

  It had been a long and trying few days. Riverton was in his bed chamber but couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t get Lizzie off his mind. And his thoughts were affecting other parts of him, as well. How he wished they were already married. Riverton wanted the ceremony to be done with as soon as possible so Lizzie could finally be where she belonged: by his side and in his bed.

  There was a knock at the door. Silently, he padded to it, hoping against hope it was Lizzie.

  Sometimes wishes did come true.

  She stood there in her virginal white night rail with a matching wrapper. Her hair was unbound, her feet were bare. “May I come in?” she whispered.

  Denied his very breath and cursed with a dry mouth, he merely nodded. She swept past him and walked into the room to explore her surroundings. Eyes wide, hands out to touch the velvet bedspread, the silk hangings.

  “So, this shall be our room,” she said. “Or have you changed your mind and decided I should have my own bed chamber after all?”

  “Never,” he said. “You are stuck here with me until we are both old and gray. There may come a time when we can’t climb stairs as well. At that point, we shall have a bed chamber on the ground floor. But even then, only one room. You and me together. Forever.”

  It was what she’d been waiting to hear.

  “I love you Marcus,” she said, as she walked toward him.

  “I love you, too, Lizzie. From now until the end of time.”

  “Marcus, you are a poet. I always suspected.”

  “Then sometimes it pays to be predictable.”

  “One more question, Marcus,” she said as she reached up to kiss him lightly on the lips.

  “Yes?” he asked, as he tried to resist throwing her on the bed and having his way with her.

  “I may write more treatises in the future. In fact, I can’t imagine I would give them up.”

  He kissed her lingeringly, then came up for breath. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

  “Excellent, because I would like to advocate the distribution of contraceptive devices. Not for me, of course. Frankly, I cannot wait to have tiny Marcuses running about the house.”

  Marcus buried his head in her neck, not sure whether to laugh or cry. So he did what he’d wanted to do for so long. He kissed her. Slowly, with banked heat and the promise of more to come.

  Because they didn’t just have all night.

  They had the rest of their lives.

  * * *

  The next morning, Arthur was the last one down to the breakfast room, other than Lady Riverton and her daughters, none of whom ever rose before noon. The Earl of Stalford was, as Lady Edith’s traumatized maid could attest, also absent.

  “Miss Rennard has left,” said a stunned Arthur, as he held aloft a note. “She is in pursuit of the Marleys.”

  “I cannot say I’m particularly surprised,” said Lizzie. “You should’ve offered to go with her.”

  “I did!”

  “Oh,” said Lizzie. “That’s not a good sign.”

  “You’re losing your touch, brother mine,” said Hal.

  “She sounds,” said Lynwood, “like a woman it is just as well to see the back of.”

  “She did have a particularly pleasant backside,” said Hal. “Can’t say I didn’t spare a thought or two to that part of her anatomy a few times. Oh, don’t scowl at me, Arthur. I shan’t stand in your way.”

  “But didn’t Arthur just say she was gone?” asked Riverton.

  “That doesn’t mean he won’t pursue her,” said Lynwood. “I just wonder if he’d like some company along the way. I’ll come with you if you’d like, Arthur.”

  “As will I,” said Hal.

  “And I,” said Stapleton.

  “Riverton’s staying clos
e to home,” said Lizzie. “So don’t even consider taking him.”

  “I thank all of you,” said Arthur, “but this is something I must do alone. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself, except for one thing. It seems Miss Rennard has stolen my horse.”

  “She took Merlin?” said Lizzie. “Now, I really like Miss Rennard, having stolen your prize horse right out from under you. Well, almost. You weren’t actually on Merlin when she stole him, were you, Arthur? Please say you were. It’s the only thing that could make this story even better.”

  “I was not on Merlin. I’m just surprised my horse would go off without me.”

  Hal looked at him. “Given the choice of ferrying the delightful Miss Rennard or having to lug you around, I can only say Merlin made the right decision.”

  Arthur ignored his brother. “Riverton, I must ask for the loan of a horse. If I don’t set out to find her now, I fear I shall never catch up.”

  “You may have any horse in my stable,” said Riverton. “But how do you know where she’s gone?”

  “I have my suspicions,” said Arthur, as he folded the note and tucked it away. “I shall see you all soon.”

  EPILOGUE

  London, Three Weeks Later

  It was a decidedly odd feeling to have married off one brother and to have a sister affianced, thought Lynwood as he took a seat at White’s before ordering a brandy. It was even odder to realize the baby of the family was a full-grown woman and soon to be a marchioness. He couldn’t imagine a better husband for her. Her marriage would be as happy as Ned’s.

  Lynwood House was going to be a good deal quieter without Lizzie. And much of the joy and liveliness would be gone as well. First Ned had left, now Lizzie. While Arthur would eventually return, it was only a matter of time until he was married and setting up his own household. And Lynwood had a pretty good guess of who his bride would be.

  That would leave only Hal at home. While there was little chance Hal would marry any time in the near future, the life he led as a young buck on the town was very different from the one Lynwood lived. And, if he were honest, that life had begun to pall. He currently had no mistress, nor did he have anyone in mind to fill the position. He’d always avoided married women and a dalliance with a widow didn’t particularly interest him at the moment.

  But listening to Ned talk about his growing family had been illuminating. He was absolutely besotted with his wife and obviously loved Vi and his unborn child. He was contented with his life and it made Lynwood wistful.

  Liam had always known he would marry and have children. It was, after all, his duty. Maybe now was the time to tend to it. And if he thought long and hard, perhaps there was one lady who would be a good wife. One he’d like to have by his side, to be mother to his children and to warm his bed at night.

  Yes, there was one woman indeed.

  Applause and cheers from the next room roused him from his imaginings.

  “What’s going on?” he asked the Earl of Stalford, who’d just come from there.

  “Fallmoor’s gone and found himself another fiancée. Seems like the sot is determined to marry and get an heir off some chit before he departs this earth. I’d pity the girl if he weren’t so insanely wealthy. Maybe I’ll bide my time and look after his widow once he finally sticks his silver spoon in the wall.”

  “Aren’t you a married man?” asked Lynwood, knowing very well he was, since he’d attended Stalford’s wedding to Lady Edith, where he’d strained his forearm protecting his manhood from Charlotte’s grasping hands. He also knew that while Stalford talked a good game, his marriage had every appearance of being a love match.

  “What the devil does my marital status have to do with anything? I’m just thinking of consoling the poor girl, that’s all. Don’t you want to know the name of the bride-to-be?”

  Never one to gossip, Lynwood just shrugged. But that didn’t stop Stalford from continuing. “It’s Lady Rosalind Carson.”

  Lynwood was barely able to put his glass back on the table without shattering it. Before he could reply, a footman bowed before him, holding out a silver platter.

  “A message from Lynwood House, your grace.”

  Lynwood took the sealed message with nerveless fingers. Heskiss had forwarded on a message from Arthur.

  Dear Liam, the note began. Have found Miss Rennard and agreed to help her locate the chest. Situation complicated, but no need to worry. Have written to Stapleton with particulars. Hope everything is well at home. Women are maddening creatures. Yours, etc. Arthur.”

  Yes, thought Lynwood to himself, women are, indeed, maddening creatures.