“Everyone just loved the performance yesterday,” Dolly said. “You were all wonderful!.”
“I think Sir Harry was perfect as the prince,” Annabelle said with a smile. “Especially since he hadn’t been rehearsing.”
“Now, now,” Sir Harry said. “I just stepped in where needed.”
“I want to know what Cilla and Samuel thought,” Dolly said, leaning across the table and grinning at the newlyweds. “Since the play was in your honor and all.”
“It was a lovely surprise,” Cilla said. “You and Mr. Bailey were quite believable as the fairy king and queen.”
“And a very manly fairy king at that,” Samuel added, making Virgil preen.
“Let’s not forget the admiral and his ladies,” Dolly went on. “Genny dear, I’m so glad you were feeling better. You were such a wicked Malevita!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bailey,” Genny said. She glanced at John, wondering when he was going to make his announcement. The sooner he told everyone his true identity, the sooner he could speak to her father. She could not read anything from his expression.
What if he did not speak up? For an instant, that old distrust flared up. But then she pushed it aside. She either trusted the man, or she did not, and she had already decided to trust him. She had to believe he would not let her down.
“You’ll notice no one minded a prince with a cane,” Annabelle said with a teasing glance at Sir Harry.
“War injury,” the baronet replied. “It was Miss Bailey’s idea to write that into the script.”
“The admiral suggested it,” Annabelle said.
“I have to admit, I feel somewhat badly for taking the role in the actual performance,” Sir Harry said, “after all the time Mr. Ready put into rehearsing with us.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t feel bad,” Dolly said with a wave of her hand. “John told us all about his stage fright. What else could be done?”
“About that,” John said.
Genny held her breath, closing her fingers more tightly around her fork.
John stood. “There is something I would like to announce . . . confess—” He stopped, took a breath, then straightened and looked around the table with a commanding presence. “There is something I need to tell all of you.”
Dolly frowned. “You’re not going to tell us you don’t have stage fright, are you?”
John nodded his head, a smile curving the corners of his mouth. “I am afraid I am, Mrs. Bailey. I did not want to be in the play because I did not want anyone to recognize me.”
“Why not?” demanded the admiral. “Is the Yard after you?” He chuckled at his own wit.
John did not smile. “My real name is John St. Giles, and with my uncle’s death, I recently became the Duke of Evermayne.”
“Evermayne!” Genny’s mother stared. “You are the Duke of Evermayne’s nephew?”
“My father was the Duke’s brother, yes,” John said. “Which means I am Evermayne now.”
“John St. Giles,” the admiral mused, stroking his beard. “I seem to recall some bit of scandal about you a few years ago.”
Genny realized the exact moment when her mother remembered the story because she gasped and grabbed her husband’s arm. “Not scandal,” Helen murmured. “Murder.”
“Murder!” Dolly cried. “Who’s a murderer?”
“If I recall correctly,” Sir Harry said, steepling his fingers as he regarded John with narrowed eyes, “John St. Giles was suspected of murdering his wife.”
“Oh, my heavens!” Dolly fanned her face with her hand. “John, say it isn’t so. Tell everyone they’ve mixed you up with someone else.”
“I cannot do that, Mrs. Bailey,” John said. “It is the truth.”
Dolly gaped, then rounded on Samuel. “You! I’m certain you knew. You endangered my daughter by bringing this killer here among us!”
Samuel shook his head. “Now, Dolly—”
“Don’t you try and weasel out of this one, Samuel Breedlove!”
“I don’t intend to ‘weasel’ out of anything. John is no killer. He saved my life—and the lives of others—several times over the years.”
Virgil stood, brows lowered. “What’s your game, Ready? I mean, St. Giles . . . I mean . . . whoever you are.”
“No game, Mr. Bailey. Samuel asked me to watch over Annabelle while he was away. I did so. Now that Samuel and Cilla are back from their trip, I can address my own concerns. I will be leaving tomorrow for London to reveal myself to the solicitor.”
“What about our concerns?” the admiral demanded, also rising. “You are wanted for murdering your wife, young man. And we put you in charge of our daughters!”
Helen covered her mouth. “Dear God, anything could have happened.”
“Just a minute,” Samuel said, also standing. “Before you go forming a lynch mob, at least listen to what he has to say.”
“Perhaps you should have listened a little better,” Dolly said. “You asked me to allow him into my home. You put our girls in danger!”
“And he did not harm them, did he?” Samuel shot back. “That should tell you something.”
“Just that he didn’t get the chance!” Dolly folded her arms across her ample chest.
“Here we were looking for Raventhorpe,” Virgil said, “when this fellow was lurking in our midst!”
John narrowed his eyes at Virgil. “Do not associate me with Raventhorpe, Bailey. Ever.”
“Why not? Seems to me the both of you are cut from the same cloth. And if that’s the way it is, you can just leave my house right now.”
“You are mistaken.” John fisted his hands.
Sir Harry lurched to his feet, steadying himself with a hand on the table. “Now, gentlemen, let us not speak rashly. I believe the new Duke of Evermayne has more to tell us.”
“That so, Ready?” the admiral demanded.
“He’d better start talking fast,” Virgil muttered.
“I am wanted for questioning regarding the death of my wife, that is true,” John began. “No charges have been brought, to my knowledge.”
“Yet,” Virgil muttered with a glare.
“He admits it!” Dolly cried.
“But I am innocent. Raventhorpe murdered my wife.”
“Raventhorpe!” Sir Harry regarded him with some interest. “How do you know?”
“I was knocked unconscious that night, but whoever drugged me whispered an apology. Said Raventhorpe had threatened his daughter.”
“A likely story!” Dolly huffed.
Sir Harry held up a hand. “A moment, Mrs. Bailey. We all know Raventhorpe is fond of such trickery.”
“And so does Ready . . . I mean, St. Giles,” blustered the admiral.
“I have known John longer than any of you,” Samuel said. “He does not lie.”
“He might have been fooling you all along, Samuel,” Virgil said. “You can only go by what he tells you.”
“I can also go by what he does. His actions tell me the truth about the kind of man that he is.”
“His actions? He’s been calling himself a false name and lying to our faces,” Virgil said. “That should tell you something for sure!”
Samuel placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. “He didn’t have to come back here, put his life in danger, just to help me save Annabelle from Raventhorpe. He hates him as much as we all do.”
“Put his life in danger?” Dolly scoffed. “Seems to me he was living off everyone else’s generosity.”
“And it seems to me, Mrs. Bailey, that you cannot see what is right in front of you.” Genny got to her feet, ignoring her mother’s urgent tugs on her sleeve. “Is it so far-fetched to imagine that Lord Raventhorpe might have orchestrated things so that John would take the blame for a murder he did not commit?”
“Not at all,” Sir Harry said, pursing his lips.
“Convenient, if you ask me,” Dolly said. “John knows we all hate Lord Raventhorpe. Pretty smart to throw him out there as the real
murderer.”
“Is it pretty smart for John to travel to London tomorrow and reveal himself to Mr. Timmons, knowing that he might be arrested and executed in short order?”
“Executed?” Dolly opened her mouth, then closed it, frowning at John. “That does seem foolish.”
“Doesn’t seem like a passel of money and a fancy title would be worth risking your neck for,” Virgil said.
“He is doing it to save His Grace’s daughters.” Genny walked around the table until she stood next to John. “They are in danger from an unscrupulous guardian unless John comes forward and claims the title. He is risking his life to save those little girls.”
“That true, son?” the admiral asked.
John gave a curt nod.
“Would a murderer put his own life on the line for children he has never met?” Genny asked. “Would Lord Raventhorpe ever do such a thing?”
“He surely wouldn’t,” Virgil murmured.
“John might die as a result of what he is doing. He is sacrificing his own future to do the right thing. Is that the act of a murderer?” Genny stared down the other occupants of the room. “You are all so quick to believe rumors that you do not even recognize when the truth stares you in the face.” Defiantly, she slid her hand into his.
“My little warrior,” John murmured. “You court danger with your boldness.”
Genny’s mother frowned at their clasped hands. “Perhaps we were a little overzealous.”
Cilla raised her brows at her mother. “A little?”
“Well, what are we supposed to think?” Virgil asked. “All this talk about killing his wife . . .”
“Just like the talk you heard about me,” Samuel said. “You remember how Raventhorpe filled your head with lies about me? How you believed all of it so completely that Annabelle nearly married that murderer?”
Virgil nodded, dropping his gaze. “You’re right. I’m sorry, John. I guess we did get a mite excited there.”
“I could have told you John was no killer,” Annabelle said with a little snort. “I have a feeling about these things. I spent a lot of time with him while he taught me how to defend myself, and he never hurt me in any way.”
“Of course, you have a feeling about these things,” Samuel said. “That’s why you almost married Raventhorpe.”
Cilla placed a hand on his arm. “Not helping, dear.”
Annabelle scowled at him. “Everyone was fooled by Richard. It’s what he does, make chaos out of everything until no one knows what’s going on. I don’t doubt for a minute that he did kill John’s wife and set him up to look guilty. It’s just the kind of thing he’d do.”
“I must agree with Miss Bailey,” Sir Harry said. “I’ve known Raventhorpe for years, and he does tend to slither away from consequences like a snake in the grass. It would not surprise me at all if events happened exactly as Mr. Ready . . . I mean, the Duke said they did.”
“The Duke? My stars, that’s right,” Dolly said. “You’re the Duke!”
John nodded. “As soon as I prove my identity to Mr. Timmons.”
“How you going to do that?” Virgil asked.
John smiled. “I have the necessary documents. And my mother will vouch for me.”
Genny glanced up in surprise. “Your mother?”
He grinned and lifted their clasped hands to brush a kiss against her fingers. “I did not appear from beneath a cabbage leaf, you know.”
The admiral cleared his throat. “Young man, I will thank you to cease fondling my daughter.”
John looked at the admiral. “About that . . .”
Genny paced the hallway outside Mr. Bailey’s study and strained to hear the conversation happening between John and her father. But the muffled voices reached her ears only as unintelligible rumbles from behind those sturdy wooden doors—sounds, not words.
She worried her thumbnail between her teeth. What if Papa would not let John marry her?
No, she would not think such thoughts. She lowered her hand and stiffened her spine. If Papa proved unreasonable, she would simply have to tell him the truth—that she and John had been intimate.
And then Papa would fetch his dueling pistols and spare the executioner his day’s pay.
She shook her head and started nibbling on her thumbnail again. She could not tell her father the truth; it would only lessen his opinion of John, and after they had just convinced everyone he was innocent, too. She needed another idea. Something that would assure they could be together. It had all seemed so simple last night when they had made love, but the law said she needed her parents’ approval to wed—a fact that she had easily ignored in the heat of passion.
What if Papa said no?
“Genny.” Her mother came down the hall, a frown of disapproval creasing her brow. “What are you doing here? You are supposed to be in your room waiting for your father to summon you.”
“I cannot simply sit in my room like a child while my entire future is decided,” Genny said. “I am old enough to make decisions for myself.”
“Is that so? Then tell me, Miss Old Enough, what about the way you led on poor Bradley Overton, then jilted him? That seemed somewhat childish to me.”
Genny lifted her chin even as her cheeks heated. “You do not know the whole story.”
“So tell me.”
“Bradley said he loved me, but he actually only wanted to marry me to advance his career in the Navy.”
Her mother blinked, clearly surprised by her candor. “Why do you think that?”
“I overheard him tell his friends.”
“Oh, dear.”
“I could not marry a man who lies to me, Mama.”
Helen frowned. “Then what about . . .” She waved her hand at the closed doors.
“He told me the truth, even though it was not right away. He is not hiding anything, and our time together may be very short, once he makes his identity known.” The words caught in her throat, and she struggled to maintain her decorum.
“I worry about this situation, sweetheart. Especially since you apparently have feelings for the man. I do not want to see you hurt.”
“Feelings? I am in love with him, Mama. And if things do not work out, I might lose him. But I would rather have had some amount of time as his wife than never to have been a part of his life at all.”
Her mother’s expression softened. “Oh, darling. You never take the easy way.” She held out her arms, and Genny stepped into them, grateful for the comfort.
“What if Papa will not give his permission for us to wed?” Genny asked, her voice thick even to her own ears. “I do not know what I would do.”
“I will speak to him.”
She knew that tone; when Mama decided she would speak with Papa, she usually got what she wanted. Genny closed her eyes and prayed.
“I do not like this situation,” the admiral said. He stood behind the desk with his hands folded behind his back.
Seated in the chair in front of the desk, John nodded. “I understand, sir.”
“While any father would take pride in his daughter marrying a duke, you have to admit that your circumstances are somewhat unconventional.”
“I—”
The admiral held up a hand, and John fell silent. “Whispers of murder hang over your head, young man, and you can certainly understand my hesitation as a father to grant you permission to wed my daughter when those whispers say you may have killed your first wife.”
“I understand how it looks, Admiral—”
Genny’s father scowled at him. “Stop interrupting. You are not a duke yet.”
“My apologies.”
The admiral gave a curt nod and began pacing. “I have my concerns. This is an awful situation for a young girl. You and I both know that this whole thing could turn out badly, and Genny would be left with a broken heart.”
“I agree, and I did try to discourage her.”
The admiral paused. “Huh. How did that work?”
John cou
ld not stop the smile that tugged at his mouth. “Your daughter is a very determined lady, sir. My resistance stopped her only long enough for her to regroup with another plan.”
“She always was a stubborn girl.” The admiral glanced at the ground, but not before John saw the pride flash across his face.
“I know this is not the perfect circumstance,” John said. “I did not want to drag anyone else into this mess, but she insisted. She stood beside me even when I tried to tell her not to. How can a man resist a woman like that, Admiral?”
“Hmph. How long did it take her to wear you down?”
“A day, maybe two.”
“You have more fortitude than I do, my boy.” The admiral rocked on his heels for a moment. “I do not like this mess you are in. I believe your story, but unless you can discover some evidence to point away from you, the hangman may well have his way.”
“I know. That is why there is no time to waste.” John caught and held the admiral’s gaze. “I love your daughter, sir. I plan to love her as long as there is breath in my body. And if the worst happens, and I do meet my Maker, at least I will be leaving her with the comfortable life of a duchess. She will never want for anything.”
“If I could, I would spare her this heartache,” the older man said. “But I suspect it is far too late for that. Her heart is engaged, whether you wed or not. She will pine for you if she does not have you—and Lord knows what else, knowing that clever girl of mine. She will no doubt be planning some wild rescue attempt if they lock you up! Better, easier, if I give my consent to this marriage.” He let out a long sigh. “Apparently, a short time as your wife is preferable to no time with you at all.”
John let out the breath he had been holding. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your understanding more than I can express.”
“Ha! Understand this, John St. Giles. If you so much as make her sniffle, the hangman might yet be cheated of his day. Take care of my Genny, John. There are rough days ahead.” He held out his hand.
John rose and shook the admiral’s hand, a wide grin spreading across his face. “She will be well cared for, Admiral, no matter what happens.”
Too Wicked to Love Page 21
