Wicked Designs
Page 29
No one had woken him to change the guard as scheduled. Rather than let anger rise up in him, he merely smiled.
How strange it all was that an act of abduction born of Godric’s wounded pride would end up like this? With Godric hopelessly smitten by a singularly unique young lady every bit his equal.
Simkins came up the stairs carrying a tea tray, which meant he must have wanted to have a private word with Ashton without the other servants overhearing.
“Would you care for a cup of tea, Lord Lennox?” Simkins asked.
“Yes, thank you.” He took the offered cup of steaming tea. “What hour is it, Simkins?”
“It is a little past nine in the morning.”
Ashton ran a hand along his chin where pale two day stubble already shadowed his jaw. “Nine, you say? Lord… We’ve slept too long.” He took a sip of tea. “Is anyone else awake?”
Simkins smiled. “No, my lord, you are the first. The entire house is quite exhausted from the previous day’s events. I let the staff sleep in until eight-thirty this morning. I hope His Grace won’t mind.”
Ashton flicked his head towards the closed bedroom door. “I’m sure he won’t. He has other things to concern himself with at the moment.”
The butler grew serious. “May I speak with you, my lord? I have a favor to ask.”
“Name it,” Ashton said, without hesitation.
“Much has occurred these past few days. His Grace has endured many things.” Simkins kept his voice low. “Stability is needed in his life.”
“Stability?” Ashton took another sip. The hot liquid felt good on his throat. “I suppose you have a suggestion?”
“I hope—that is to say, I wish—for you to suggest to His Grace that he should do the right thing by Miss Parr and marry her. It wouldn’t do for me to make such a suggestion.”
“Because you had to give notice over the matter of the pistol.”
“Oh no, my lord. His Grace forbade me from leaving his employment until I had paid for the hideous vase I broke. Then proceeded to drink so much he forgot I had ever offered my resignation in the first place. No, though I did what I could to tend to His Grace’s needs growing up, I’m afraid when it comes to matters of the heart my instruction was quite lacking. You are the better choice.”
He put his cup down. “Let me ask you something, Simkins. Why do you think he should marry her?”
Simkins stood erect and regal, still holding the tray. “I have never seen His Grace so concerned about another soul in his entire life, except perhaps for you and your friends. But that it is a love he knows and understands. Comradery, if you will. With Miss Parr, he may not recognize that his passions are fueled by a deeper yearning. Perhaps you can help him see that.”
The butler’s words, the weight of importance he’d placed on his duties to Godric and the St. Laurent family, moved Ashton deeply.
“Rest easy, Simkins. I quite agree with you. I’ll speak to the others and we will raise the matter with him.”
“Thank you, my lord. It comforts me to know he has chosen well in his friends.” Simkins bowed his head and retreated down the stairs with his tea tray.
Ashton finished his tea in the quiet silence of the empty hallway, contemplating their other problem. The threat of Blankenship had never left his mind. It was unwise to remain at Godric’s estate while Blankenship plotted Emily’s capture.
The man was more foolhardy than Ashton could believe. Had he actually hired thugs to attack the duke’s estate? It had to be a bluff, but Blankenship was capable of almost anything else. He had destroyed more than one rival in a completely legal manner through financial disasters. Yet those had been over issues of money. With a woman involved, Ashton couldn’t help but fear Blankenship would resort to more violent measures. Well, if that was the case, Ashton would not underestimate him.
Perhaps the best solution was to play a game of thimblerig with Emily in London. They could move her from residence to residence, since the League members owned several. It would be impossible for Blankenship to find her.
In the meantime they needed to convince Godric that he ought to marry Emily. If he did, Blankenship would have no claim to her. Emily would be infinitely safer and a scandalous kidnapping would become a romantic elopement in the eyes of society. A door opened down the hall and a bleary-eyed Cedric came out, shirt and breeches wrinkled as though he’d slept in them. He yawned and then caught sight of Ashton.
“How go the sentinel duties?”
Ashton chuckled. “Intolerably dull. I had expected much more entertainment, but the love birds haven’t moved an inch. Godric is finally getting some rest, though.”
Cedric heaved a sigh. “Thank God for that.”
“Cedric, are your sisters at your house in London?”
“Yes, they’ve been there for two weeks.” Cedric eyed Ashton. “Why?”
“Would you mind if we brought Emily to London and hid her in your house? If your sisters are present they might make for a confusing scene if Blankenship’s men end up looking there.”
Cedric’s brown eyes narrowed. “Are you asking me to use my sisters as bait?”
Ashton held up his hands. “No! But I think that Blankenship won’t expect us to take Emily to London. She might escape notice there. Meanwhile, we will spread ourselves out into the other residences about London and scatter Blankenship’s men until—” Ashton paused here, hesitant to reveal his plans fully.
“Until?”
“Until we can convince Godric to marry Emily.”
Cedric was quiet for a long moment. “You think he will?”
“I think he must. He cares about her to the point of self-destruction. She loves him. There can be no other answer.”
Cedric frowned. “He’s the one who always insisted that matrimony was folly. What if he doesn’t agree?”
Ashton raised his chin. “Then he is a fool. But Emily must be protected. If Godric won’t marry her, then I shall. She’ll be free to live and love as she chooses, as will I. It is not an uncommon arrangement, so long as both parties use discretion. But she needs the protection of marriage.” He couldn’t forget the greed in Blankenship’s eyes, the monstrous coldness that overtook his nature when he’d searched room by room for the girl. “Otherwise, Blankenship will hound her steps until the day she dies.”
“You can throw my name onto the list of marriage options. We can let her choose between us, should Godric refuse.”
This surprised Ashton. He thought he would be the only one willing to endure matrimony for Emily, but it appeared he’d been mistaken. “And what of Anne Chessley? If Emily chooses you, you could never make Anne a mistress, not when you’ve married her friend.”
Cedric’s face transformed into such a state of despair that Ashton set his cup aside and rose from his chair in concern.
“Perhaps not, but I would give Anne up, if Emily chose me. For my sins in this affair, I owe her. I’d do everything in my power to protect her.”
“Let us hope that Emily won’t need to choose anyone besides Godric.”
Godric heard every word from behind the door. He’d been content to let Emily stay nestled up against him, but at the sound of Simkins’s voice, he’d forced himself up. He paused at the door and absorbed the conversation between his butler and later his friends, moved by their views and touched by the sincerity of their wishes.
However their offers hadn’t been necessary. Godric had decided last night he’d marry Emily. As soon as they reached London, he’d start immediately on wedding plans. But, to maintain Emily’s safety, the ceremony would have to be hasty.
With an excited smile, he splashed his face at the washbasin before he changed for breakfast.
He adjusted his cravat in the mirror when Emily stirred. He moved to the bed, leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Stay in bed awhile, darling. I’m just going down to breakfast.”
She sighed, shifted under the covers and drifted back to sleep.
For a long moment,
And, to think, if Albert Parr hadn’t been of such low moral fiber, Godric would never have met Emily, never known her the way he did now.
On an irresistible impulse he bent down to kiss Emily’s lips. Her mouth opened sleepily beneath his and he savored the sweetness. An eternity would not be enough time. He would always yearn for her, all of her, body and soul.
The League of Rogues convened in the dining room that morning to discuss the upcoming London trip while Emily slept.
Godric sipped his coffee. “Once we reach London…” he paused, enjoying the strained looks of his companions. “I have decided that Emily and I shall be married.”
The dining room was silent for several long seconds before Ashton and Cedric exhaled in obvious relief.
“I was worried I would have to twist your arm to convince you to marry. I will be happy to procure a marriage license for you.”
Godric nodded. “Yes. See to it we have everything necessary to arrange a quick ceremony.” He turned to the marquess. “Lucien, it’s up to you to lead Blankenship down a false trail, lest he try to interfere.”
Lucien grinned.
Charles scooted forward in his seat. “And me?”
“You’ll be with Cedric, as part of Emily’s protection. Never let her out of your sight, unless one of us is with her.”
Charles had always viewed himself as a protective knight, and now he would play the part.
Cedric tossed a piece of crust to Penelope, who sat at his heels, tail swishing back and forth. “You know, Godric, you could just whisk Emily away to Gretna Green. It would save you the trouble of having to confront Parr. For all we know he might warn Blankenship of your plans.”
Godric frowned. That was not the wedding she deserved. He didn’t want his future duchess marked by further scandal. No. He would meet and speak with Parr, and get the wretched man to accompany him to the church for the marriage ceremony. Bound and gagged if need be.
“I am the Duke of Essex and I will not run off with my tail between my legs. We will avoid Blankenship if possible, and if we cannot, he will be dealt with.”
There were nods all around the table.
“Ashton, can you arrange for the ceremony to be at St. George’s in Hanover Square?” That was all the rage in London now. It was a lovely church, well known for its impressive front portico supported by six tall Corinthian columns and a tower just behind the portico, near enough to the League’s various residences that the trip would not prove risky.
Ashton grinned. “I suppose. I do have some pull with the bishop. He owes me a favor ever since that incident last year, during Michaelmas, you know.” The other men laughed with him, knowing what trouble the bishop had gotten himself into.
“When are you planning on telling Emily?” Lucien asked.
“Not until after we have all our plans settled and her tucked away in Cedric’s townhouse. I want her to be at ease and feel safe when I propose. She has endured too much these last few days and a rushed proposal will not make her happy.”
Suddenly the dining room door opened and Jonathan entered. An awkward hesitancy marred his steps. He’d never dared to intrude on Godric or the others before.
Godric watched him silently, curious to see what he would do.
Jonathan cleared his throat, “I know you and I have not spoken of our new situation…as…brothers, Your Grace, but—”
“If you are my brother, then you can stop addressing me as Your Grace. Now what do you want?”
“I wish to go to London with you and help with Emily.”
The newly discovered brothers stared at each other for a moment before Godric said, “Very well. She is to be your sister-in-law soon enough. You ought to have some say in all of this. You shall accompany Cedric and Charles. Three is better than two for Emily’s protection.”
Godric didn’t smile, but his tone was calm and accepting. If Emily could forgive him, then he could certainly forgive his brother.
Jonathan visibly relaxed. Clearly he’d expected a fight.
“Sit down and eat.” Godric gestured to the fine breakfast on the sideboard.
Jonathan flushed, but bravely filled a plate and chose a seat next to Ashton, who smiled and gave a warm nod.
“You any good with a pistol, Jonathan?” Charles asked.
“More so with a flintlock rifle, but yes.” Jonathan swallowed a bite of jam-covered toast.
“Excellent. We’ll make a fine team, the three of us,” Cedric said.
“What time are we to leave?” Jonathan asked.
“By noon, we hope. Emily needs as much rest as we can manage to give her. The carriage ride will be unpleasant enough, as ill as she’s been.”
“Well, I suppose the rest of us should be packed and ready.” Ashton rose from his chair with the soft but firm suggestion in his tone that the others follow suit.
They left Godric and Jonathan alone. This was why he loved his friends. They followed his judgment and accepted Jonathan. They had always treated him nicely before—a man’s valet was sacred, after all—but now he was one of them.
“Have you had enough to eat?” Godric asked after a few minutes. Jonathan flicked a glance to his empty plate and nodded. “Good. Join me in my study?”
Godric’s study was still a bit untidy after his self-imposed exile. But Simkins had removed the trays of untouched food and the broken glass, and put back all the books Godric had ripped from the shelves in his rage. Godric sat down and motioned for Jonathan to do the same. Jonathan eased back into one of the chairs facing Godric’s desk.
“There are some matters to settle between us.” Godric leaned forward a few inches. “I want you to move your things out of your current quarters once this business with Emily is settled.”
Jonathan’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I understand, Your Grace. I lost my temper with you, and I put Miss Parr in danger. I should like to make my apologies with the young lady before I go, however.”
It struck Godric how blinded he’d been, never suspecting for a moment they shared a father. It made him wonder what he else he’d missed by simply not looking.
“Jonathan, I’m not forcing you to leave the manor. I only meant for you to choose a room on the upper floor, a room more suitable to your new status in this household.”
“My new status?”
“Yes. We’re brothers, by blood and by law. If you think I’ll toss you to the wayside, you’re mistaken. Unless of course you wish to leave. I wouldn’t insist that you stay. But I’d like it if you would.”
Jonathan’s face flushed. “You really would not mind my staying on here, Your Grace?”
“I’ve always despised being an only child. We are brothers, and that is all that matters to me. Even in my anger I doubt I could have killed you once Simkins told me. I might have throttled you a bit.”
“Your Grace.” Jonathan cast his eyes down again. “I don’t mean to make things more uncomfortable between us, Your…Godric. But how do we go on from here? I’ve been your valet for nearly six years and a servant since I was born. What happens now?”
“Enjoy yourself. You’ve studied nearly as much as I have. You know the proper manners, it’s merely time to employ them. All you must do is raise your head, not look down at the floor and wear different clothes, and learn how to dance, of course. I’m considering settling one of Father’s unentailed estates upon you. I’ll put it in trust. It will be an easy competence. Whenever you are ready to settle down and marry I will turn it over to you.”
Jonathan blinked, eyes round as saucers. “My own estate?”
“As the second son it would be your due. I daresay you’ve worked hard enough for it.”
Jonathan’s eyes began to glisten, which made Godric uncomfortable.
“Damn it, Jon, smile for heaven’s sake. No need to turn into a watering pot,” he said, hoping to raise his brother’s spirits.
Jonathan scraped the heel of his hand over his eyes, blinked rapidly and nodded.
“When I was a child I used to envy you, Godric. But Simkins told me what life was like for you. I was kept safe in my mother’s care, but Simkins never let me forget what you endured. I thought he did it to prevent jealousy.”
Godric’s eyes darkened as they fixed on a spot on the wall. He could still hear his father say, “I need a reason to beat a servant, but not to beat my own son.” There was only one bastard in their family, and it certainly wasn’t Jonathan.
“I suppose what I’m trying to say is, I wish I could have shared the sting. I hate knowing you suffered that alone.”
Godric leaned back into his chair and started to smile, really smile.
“Would you have any interest in joining me and the other lords once a month at our club, Berkley’s, in London?”
“They wouldn’t mind the intrusion?” Jonathan had been there many times as his valet, but not a member.
“They’ve always liked you, and blood is blood. I want you to join our League. What do you say?”
“Absolutely.”
Emily clung to Godric’s side, nervous as they entered Cedric’s townhouse. His sisters, Miss Sheridan and Miss Audrey, were inside. It was strange, but she wanted to make a good impression.
Cedric caught sight of his sisters. “There you are! Come over here and meet Emily.”
The elder, Horatia, was taller, with more classical features, a long neck and sharp cheekbones that reminded Emily of a swan. Though shorter, Audrey was just as pretty, her face rounder and more childlike, but not in a way that hid the intelligence in her eyes.
“Emily, this is my sister, Horatia. Horatia, this is Miss Emily Parr. And this is Audrey.” Cedric chucked his littlest sister under her chin.
Horatia gave a warm smile. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Parr.”
Emily released her grip on Godric’s arm and smiled back. “Please call me Emily.”
“Then you must call me Horatia.”
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