Once Upon A Regency

by Samantha Grace

  Aubry’s barouche stopped in front of a grand townhouse. A woman stood at the top of the porch steps, but Dewitt could not make out her features from such a distance. When she moved down the steps, the earl took her hand before they both disappeared into the conveyance.

  His sister. It has to be.

  Dewitt dropped the curtain as he sat back against the plush seat. His contacts told him Aubry had a younger sister who bore a striking resemblance to him. They had also informed him that she resided with her husband on Piccadilly. He had not seen her features in detail, but they were in the correct location.

  Could she be the key to Aubry’s undoing? Dewitt would not murder the chit, but perhaps she could prove beneficial in another way. A wicked smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he considered all the ways he might use her. He could have all sorts of fun with her, but given a choice, he would rather deal with the earl directly. It was much less risky. She had a husband to consider, too. A man Dewitt had no knowledge of. He knocked on the side of the carriage with his cane.

  “Sir?” inquired the driver.

  “Do not follow too close. I do not want his lordship getting suspicious.” Dewitt settled against the seat as the coachman set the carriage into motion once again.

  A short time later, his conveyance halted again. Dewitt glanced out at the street. A good distance ahead, Aubry’s barouche turned toward Rose’s cottage. White rage built within him. He tightened his fist around his cane.

  Dewitt’s driver parked a good distance from Rose’s residence. The next two hours moved at a snail’s pace. Aubry remained at Rose’s. Unable to sit still any longer, Dewitt exited his carriage. He had to know what Aubry was doing with his precious flower.

  Grass squished beneath his boots as he crept toward the cottage. He would not benefit from being seen. Taking a deep breath, he crept up to the exterior wall nearest the road. Rage goaded him to march up to the door and demand entrance. However, if he gave in to the impulse, he would never discover what was going on inside. Dewitt shook the idea away and moved directly underneath the parlor window. He peered inside.

  An empty parlor greeted his gaze.

  He moved down the side of the cottage to the next window. His eyes widened. Rose stood far too close to the earl. They appeared to be in the midst of an exchange. The way she smiled at the other man made his stomach turn. Her smiles belonged to him and him alone. Aubry laid a hand on Rose’s arm, and Dewitt’s body trembled with rage. How dare the man take liberties with his betrothed? He would not stand for it.

  The time to take action had arrived.

  * * * *

  As soon as Lord Aubry’s hand settled on her arm, Rose’s body warmed at the sensation. She stiffened at her own reaction. How dare Lord Aubry put his hand on her! And how dare her body enjoy his touch. She needed to get her reactions to him under control. “Please unhand me this instant,” she said stepping away.

  He released her and rubbed his hand across his jaw. “Pray tell, why do you refuse my help?”

  “I have already told you.” She backed up a step. Perhaps some distance would help her regain her senses. “I do not require assistance.”

  “From what I have seen, you most certainly do. Convince me otherwise. Tell me what is going on with Wolfe.”

  “Do hush! Lady Julia will return at any moment. Gran could just as easily walk in.” She lowered herself into a brocade-covered chair. “Please, have a seat and let us forget this nonsense.”

  She had left Lady Julia in the sewing room after adjusting her frocks. Gran was helping her dress. It would be nothing short of scandalous for either of them to come upon Lord Aubry and her acting so familiar with one another.

  Sighing, he moved to sit on the settee across from her. “Very well, if you insist.”

  “I do.” She met his gaze, offering a weak smile.

  He shook his head, but did not speak.

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Her pulse ran amuck as her good senses threatened to collapse. Heavens, but the man wreaked havoc on her internal systems.

  Lady Julia swept into the room, drawing attention. She looked ethereal, draped in the white muslin day gown Rose had delivered on her last order.

  Rose stood as Lady Julia moved farther into the room. She hoped to hurry through the pleasantries so the pair could take their leave. The sooner they were gone, the sooner she could focus on her preparation for the evening.

  * * * *

  Rose had planned carefully. She worked by candlelight most of the previous night, altering her father’s old garments to fit her own form. After donning them, she had smudged a touch of coal across her face, and tucked her hair beneath one of his old hats.

  She was counting on the cover of night to help her pass without notice. Her heart raced and her hands shook as she made her way down the dark street. Wolfe’s office was just around the next corner, if memory served.

  When she was a girl, Father would sometimes bring her along when he conducted business with Wolfe’s father. Even then she found Dewitt Wolfe repugnant, though she would have married him in spite of her feelings to honor the arrangement Father had made for her.

  It was not until years later, after Wolfe’s father passed on, that she became resistant to the idea. Something in him changed after the loss. He became cold, frightening even. Every time she went near him after the tragedy, he filled her with foreboding. She became determined to break the betrothal.

  After turning the corner she stopped to lean against the building. Her feet ached from the long walk and her nerves were frazzled. At least she was almost there.

  Voices drifted to her ears from close by. Rose’s heart jumped as she pressed closer to the building's cool facade. Two voices, both male and growing louder.

  Pray, do not let them see me.

  They strolled a mere five feet from where she hid in the shadows. This was a fool’s errand. She should not have come.

  When the two men moved closer, she ducked her head, her heart thumping against her ribs. The stench and dust of London caused her nose to itch. She raised a hand to cover the sneeze threatening to burst forth. Too late, the pressure rocked her body as her escaping air filled the space around her. She spun, in the opposite direction hoping they would ignore her and continue on.

  “Are you all right?” The man stepped closer and took hold of her elbow. “Miss Woodcourt? What are you doing out here? And dressed like a lad no less?”

  “Ah, so this is the infamous Miss Woodcourt,” the second man added.

  Heart plummeting to her toes, Rose slowly turned. Her breath hitched when she saw who it was. “Lord Aubry…”

  “Explain yourself.”

  His demand rang in her ears, her throat tightened at the idea of being caught. She averted her gaze to the gentleman with the earl before looking at the ground. How could she explain this?

  Wait, why should she have to? The vexing lord should explain what he was doing, not the other way around. After all, it was he who had interrupted her. She met his gaze. “You are interfering with my plans. Kindly continue on your way and forget you ever saw me.”

  Lord Aubry grabbed her arm. “I will do no such thing. You are coming with us.”

  “Remove your hand from me.” She bit the words out through clenched teeth. “You are causing a scene.”

  “She is right, Aubry, and it is the last thing we need.” Aubry’s companion trailed his gaze over her. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Woodcourt. I am Garrett Tumbly, Viscount of Sinclair.” His smile reflected in his gaze.

  She should have dropped into a curtsy, but her body refused. Instead she lifted her foot and brought it down hard on the instep of Lord Aubry’s.

  The earl stepped back, dropping his hand from her arm, his lips pressed into a tight line.

  His friend stifled a chuckle behind his hand. “I like this one. She has spunk.”

  Lord Aubry scowled at his companion. “Might you attempt to assist me rather than making jests?�
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  “Yes, right. What are we doing with the chit?”

  “Do not speak about me as if I am not present.” She placed her hands on her hips.

  “You continue on while I see her home.” Lord Aubry reached out grabbing her arm.

  Heat engulfed her when he put her over his shoulder. A slow combustion started in her stomach, quickly spreading to her extremities. Her thigh and arm burned where he held them.

  “Put me down.” She balled her fists and hit him repeatedly in his back. "I cannot go home until I have found what I came for.” Aubry stopped and shifted her body, taking firmer hold of her.

  “Pray tell, what did you come for?” Lord Sinclair moved closer to her as she dangled over Lord Aubry’s strong shoulder.

  “It is none of your concern.” She slammed her fisted hand into Lord Aubry’s back. “Release me, you brute.”

  Lord Aubry stiffened, his muscles tightening under her. “I will put you down when you tell me why you are here—and dressed like a man.”

  She ceased her assaults and pushed out a deep breath. As much as she did not want to share her plan with them, they left her with no other choice. Lord Aubry would drag her home regardless. Maybe if she told him what she was attempting to do, he could help in some way. “Very well, you win.”

  He lowered her back to her feet. “Let us move out of the street before we are seen.”

  She walked to the shadowed spot where she had hidden just moments ago. Both men followed close behind. Her pulse racing, she turned back to them.

  “If you must know, I plan to break into Wolfe’s office to look for evidence that he stole my home. As I stated previously, I know my Papa paid off his mortgage. Wolfe’s document is a forgery.”

  Lord Sinclair chuckled.

  She pinned him with her gaze. “Pray tell, what is so comical?”

  He cuffed Lord Aubry’s shoulder. “That is the very reason we are here.”

  Her spirits soared. “Then you will help me?” The moment the words left her mouth, she began nibbling on her bottom lip. Perhaps it was too much to hope for, but all the same…

  “No.”

  Her heart tumbled into her toes.

  “I will take you home. Lord Sinclair will do the breaking in.” Lord Aubry glanced at his companion.

  “Please, let me stay. I can watch and alert you if anyone else comes.”

  “No matter what garb you have on, you are still a woman. You should not be here. It is not safe.” Lord Aubry offered his arm to her, along with a smile. “Come, let me see you home.”

  “I cannot go home. I have to see this through. Please.” She met Lord Sinclair’s gaze. “Please.”

  “Let the chit stay, Aubry.” He pointed between them. “She will be safe enough with us.”

  Somehow Rose was not convinced. She believed they would keep her body from harm and her neck out of the noose, but her heart was an entirely different matter. Lord Aubry presented a clear danger in that regard. She turned her attention to him. “Please, grant me this one boon?”

  Lord Aubry glanced between them. A frown marred his handsome features. “I cannot fight you both, but you must promise to stay close to me at all times.”

  “As you wish, my lord.” She dropped into a curtsy, a smirk formed at her lips. “Now come on. We have wasted enough time.” She strolled toward the office building at the end of the street.

  ENCHANTED BY THE EARL

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hunter watched the sway of Miss Woodcourt’s hips as she strolled ahead of him. The way those breeches hugged her curves begged for his attention. He could not help but take note of her shapely legs, rounded derriere, and the flare of her hips. For a split second, he contemplated pulling her into his arms and ravishing her right there in the street.

  The woman was off limits. An innocent, and he would not tarnish her, especially when he knew they could never wed. He tore his gaze from her luscious body, and tossed a glance at Sinclair, grateful his friend walked in front of her. The thought of the viscount admiring her assets caused his blood to heat. Pure madness, yet he seemed powerless to stop his reactions to her.

  A scowl marred Rose’s dirty face as she glanced back at him. Hunter’s pulse sped at the sight of her displeasure. She must be miffed over the way he had handled her. With a weak smile, he stepped past her and reached for the door.

  He did not care for the effect she had on him. The sooner they got this over with, the better. He withdrew a small tool and began to poke within the lock’s chamber.

  “It refuses to budge. I need something longer.” He glanced over his shoulder. Sinclair stood so close to Miss Woodcourt, their arms touched. A ping of discomfort raced through him. Jealousy? He had to get away from this woman before she drove him to Bedlam.

  Rose removed her hat, ran a hand across her auburn tresses, and pulled out a hatpin. “Try this.”

  “Have you a history of breaking and entering?” Sinclair teased her.

  Hunter’s body heated in anger, pulse throbbing in his neck. He did not want Sinclair teasing Miss Woodcourt, touching her, or even standing close to her.

  What was going on with him? She meant nothing to him. He only helped because he was unable to ignore her plight. It was lust, plain and simple. Once he returned her home, these feelings would cease. For now, he needed to focus on gaining entry to Wolfe’s office.

  Rose gave a quick smile and shook her head. “No, but I knew I would need something if I wished to open the lock. My pin was all I could think of.”

  Hunter took the hatpin from her. His fingers tingled where they brushed hers.

  “See? I told you I would be of use.” She winked.

  He raised a brow at her scandalous behavior before turning back to the door. The woman was positively vexing. That she even imagined breaking into Wolfe’s office angered him. Still, her calculated plan was impressive.

  Had he and Sinclair not had the same idea, she may have pulled her mission off without incident. He had never known a woman who would dare dream up such a thing, let alone attempted to carry it out, breeches and all.

  “It should do the trick.” Hunter pushed the pin in the lock, wiggled it, and gave the pin a slight turn. The mechanism gave with a click. He allowed the door to open a crack before he pulled the pin out. “Sinclair, let us know if anyone comes.”

  The viscount offered a nod before moving to the corner of the building.

  Miss Woodcourt held her hand out. “My hatpin, please.”

  Hunter put the pin in her palm before pushing the door open farther. He stepped aside for her. “After you.”

  She entered the office without a word, leaving a trail of rose-scented air in her wake.

  With a last glance at Sinclair, Hunter stepped into the office and closed the door behind them. He took another step into the dark space and suddenly her body was pressed against him. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

  Her soft form molded to him as if she were made to fit against him. Still embracing her, he gently moved her to his side before she could feel the effect she was having on him.

  She pushed his arm away and stepped from his embrace. “We need light.”

  The cool night air quickly replaced the warmth of her body. He scowled, already missing her closeness. Bloody hell. She would be his undoing if he did not return her home posthaste.

  His eyes adjusted to the dark enough for him to spot a window shielded with a heavy drape. “As you wish.” He moved to the window, pulling the drape back to allow moonlight to spill into the space.

  His gaze traveled over her body. She looked beautiful washed in the bright light of a full moon. He studied her for a moment, nearly forgetting their purpose. He noticed the curve of her rear as she leaned over Wolfe’s desk, her small frame, and the way she nibbled at her lip. It all taunted him. You fool! Stop lusting over her. It is a dangerous game.

  Ignoring his desire to sweep her into his arms, he turned his focus to a pile of papers in the
center of Wolfe’s desk, looking for something that could be of use.

  Dropping the last of the papers on the desk, her voice shaking, she said, “There is nothing here.”

  “We need to keep looking. We have only just begun.” He pulled open the desk drawers one at a time, while she shifted through a second stack of notes. The drawer was full of stationary and ink. He moved the items around, careful not to disturb them over much. Nothing.

  The shuffle of her feet across the floor drew his attention. He glanced up at her as she halted in front of a table. Her shoulders shook. Was she crying? The sight tugged at his heart. “All is not yet lost.”

  “It is useless. This was a foolish idea.” Her shoulders trembled slightly with her gentle sobs.

  He closed his eyes and released a breath before opening them again. She was still sobbing. He had never known what to do with a weeping woman. In any other situation he would take his leave.

  “Do not fret.” He took a tentative step toward her, but his boot bumped against a dust bin, spilling the contents. “Bloody hell.”

  “Lord Aubry.” She spun around.

  He kneeled down to right the container and began replacing its contents. “Do not tell me you are scandalized by a bit of vulgar language, yet you find it fitting to dress like a man and break into buildings.”

  “Why, of all the—”

  “I have found something.” He smoothed the note with his hands.

  She drooped down beside him. “Let me see.”

  The little hypocrite gave him a tongue lashing for foul language one moment, and kneeled in a most unladylike manner the next. She made for an alluring puzzle. It was rather unfortunate he could not attempt to solve her.

  He angled the parchment toward the light, as she leaned closer.

  Settle your debt tonight or I tell the chit everything. Meet me. Same place as before.

  C. Lionhurst

  “Is it enough to stop Wolfe?”

  The note failed to give a full name. Nor did it state what the business was. He would not waste time nor coin taking it to the constable. Instead, Hunter planned to go directly to the source. But first, he had to figure out the identity of C. Lionhurst.