Scoundrel (Lost Lords of Radcliffe Book 4)

by Cheryl Holt

  “Harold is dead, Lambert, and she’s missed the funeral. I hardly think it’s an emergency.”

  “Faith can help us.”

  “How? I’m sure she hasn’t any funds to contribute to our dilemma.”

  “She has some of which she’s unaware.”

  “Really? How do you know?”

  “I’ve learned she has a dowry. Quite a substantial one at that. Harold set it aside in a trust when she was a girl, so it was out of reach when his fortunes reversed. He couldn’t use it to save himself.”

  Alice frowned. “It’s all still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “But a dowry. How can that benefit us? I wish I was as bright as you are, Lambert. Then I’d understand.”

  “If she married, her husband would get the money. It’s sewn up tight as a drum. I checked. She can’t access it, but her husband can.”

  “She’s a novitiate, Lambert, so she’s almost a nun. I’m positive she doesn’t intend to ever have a husband.”

  Lambert took a deep breath and let it out. This would be tricky. Alice always seemed a tad bewildered, but occasionally she latched onto a concept like a dog at a bone.

  He had to tread carefully, lest she suspect ulterior motives. And he didn’t actually have ulterior ones. He’d simply racked his brain for months and had finally found a solution. He’d promised Alice they’d wed, but they couldn’t.

  He had to pose the scheme in just the right way so she’d deem it to be a shrewd plan. If she didn’t agree, they’d forfeit Heron Hall. While she wasn’t much of a mother—she was too capricious to have maternal instincts—he couldn’t imagine she’d want her children tossed out on the road.

  “Darling, I must explain a possibility to you,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  He sat next to her on the divan, and he clasped her hands in his own. “It may sound mad, but I need you to listen.”

  “Of course I’ll listen, Lambert.”

  “I know we’re betrothed.”

  “Yes, and I can’t wait until we wed. The time is passing so slowly. I hate that we have to hide our affection from the world. It’s not fair.”

  “No, it isn’t, but I’ve been thinking about Faith.”

  “What about her?”

  “She has a dowry that can only be released to her husband.” He gazed woefully. “I think that husband should be me.”

  “You?” She assessed him, her exquisite lips pouting with consternation. “If you were married to her she would be your wife.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you could never marry me. What would I be?”

  “You’ll still be my one true love,” he claimed.

  “What would Faith be?”

  “I’ve told you about Faith and myself. She has no feelings for me whatsoever. She was always very clear about it.”

  “What about your feelings for her?”

  “I wanted to wed her because Harold wanted it. You’re aware of how I tried to make him happy.”

  She sighed. “You were the son he never had. He often bragged about it.”

  “If I don’t marry Faith, we’re in dire straits.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  “We’ll have to relinquish title to Heron Hall.”

  “Could we go to town? I’d much rather live there where we could attend parties and balls, but Harold detested frivolity. He was a beast for not allowing me to visit regularly.”

  Lambert bit down his exasperation. “No, dearest, we couldn’t go to town. We’re facing such fiscal difficulties! We don’t have the money for it.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why, we might end up having to move in with your mother.” Slyly he added, “I’m certain we’d be welcome to stay with her.”

  Alice’s brows shot up. “I couldn’t ask Mama. I wouldn’t dare. I can’t have her learn of our trouble because she’d never permit me to wed you. She’d pick another rich, elderly gentleman for me, and I’d be lost to you forever.”

  “It’s why I’m pinning my hopes on Faith. You’re aware of how kind she is. She’d never let you be evicted.”

  “No, she wouldn’t.”

  “She’ll protect Nancy and Nellie too. They’re her sisters after all.”

  “Half-sisters, Lambert.”

  “But the only sisters she has!” he fervidly reminded her. “I have to marry her, Alice. There’s no other option.”

  “How will you convince her?”

  “Leave that to me, but you must write to the convent again. Beg her to come home right away. Tell her…tell her…you’re in deep mourning and you desperately need her support.”

  “I suppose I could.”

  “And don’t mention the dowry. For now, we’ll keep the information to ourselves.”

  “We won’t inform her she’s an heiress?”

  “No. With how our luck is running, she might find a way to break the trust and give the whole blasted pile to those nuns of hers.”

  “You can’t let her, Lambert!”

  “No, so it will remain our little secret.”

  She studied him, her expression so open and disarming. Ultimately she said, “I imagine I could consent to your marrying her—for the sake of my children.”

  He brimmed with feigned fondness. “You’re a gem, Alice. You’re a sparkling diamond in a mound of gray stones. What did I do to deserve you?”

  “What did I do to deserve you? When Harold proposed, I was concerned that it was a bad choice, but then he brought me to Heron Hall and I met you. It seems as if Fate was determined to have us cross paths.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” His goal accomplished, he slid away from her and stood. “I must be going. I have a thousand errands to complete this afternoon.”

  “I’ll miss you every second.”

  “As I will miss you,” he said, and he went to the door.

  Just before he exited, she called, “Lambert?”

  “Yes?”

  “Once you wed her, will we still be together?”

  “Yes, darling, nothing will change. Nothing at all.”

  “I’ll stay at Heron Hall? You won’t send me away?”

  “Never. I promised Harold, and I promise you. Even if I wanted to behave like a cad—”

  “Lambert, don’t say so! You’re much too decent.”

  “Even if I wanted to be horrid, Faith would never allow it. She’ll be your fiercest champion, and she’ll safeguard Nellie and Nancy as you and I never could.”

  “I’m sure it will all work out for the best.”

  “It will, Alice. Trust me.”

  He walked out, his mind awhirl on how he’d coax Faith into matrimony. He’d tried for years and hadn’t succeeded. But he had leverage now, leverage he hadn’t previously possessed.

  He had Heron Hall about to go on the auction block, and Faith would never agree to surrender it. He also had Alice and the girls, and while Faith might not be overly sensitive to Alice’s plight, she’d never let any harm befall her half-sisters.

  She’d protect them by becoming Lambert’s bride. Of that fact, he had no doubt.

  * * * *

  Alice listened as Lambert’s footsteps faded away, then she rose and tiptoed to the window, watching until she saw him heading to the barn.

  “Thank goodness,” she muttered.

  He’d likely be gone for hours, so she was shed of his stifling presence.

  She left her boudoir and proceeded downstairs to the library where he kept his papers. She sifted through the latest stack, reading the bad news.

  If Harold hadn’t already died, she’d seriously consider murdering him.

  She and her mother had plotted and conspired, with both of them maneuvering so she’d attract the wealthiest possible candidates for her hand. Her mother had been an actress, Alice too, and they’d had big plans, had created a fake history and false lineage.

  When Alice reached adolescence, they’d recognized her delicate beauty, and with her acting skills honed,
she’d developed her innocent, anxious façade.

  She’d been married to Harold for three years, wed to him at sixteen and nineteen when he’d passed on. Shortly after she’d arrived at Heron Hall, she’d started her affair with Lambert. Harold had been so elderly, and she’d enjoyed having the younger man drool over her.

  Harold had been very clear that Lambert was his heir—unless she gave him a son. She’d failed in the effort, so he’d bequeathed everything to Lambert with instructions that he support Alice and the twins, but their position was precarious.

  Lambert’s obligation to Alice was a verbal commitment, offered in private to a deceased person who could hardly verify the terms, so he was free to treat Alice however he pleased.

  She’d been pretending she couldn’t wait to be his wife, but she’d really rather not. She didn’t like the physical side of marriage and would view it as a blessing if she never had to have a man poking and prodding at her ever again.

  What a relief it would be to have that onerous burden lifted from her shoulders and dumped onto Faith’s.

  Alice was simply intent on guaranteeing she had shelter, food on the table, and coal for the stoves in the winter. If her girls were afforded the same boons, it was an added benefit.

  Lambert wanted to wed Faith! How droll! How hilarious! He thought he’d tricked Alice, or that she’d be angry over his scheme, but she was happy to let him have his precious Faith, the woman he’d desired practically his whole life. Actually it was a marvelous conclusion—for Alice. Faith was devoted and loyal, and she would never shirk her duty to Alice and her daughters.

  With Heron Hall on the line, Alice didn’t suppose Faith would refuse Lambert—so long as he didn’t muck it up. Alice would work valiantly to ensure he didn’t.

  “My dearest Faith,” she said, “I’m delighted to report that you’re about to be a bride.”

  She plopped down at Lambert’s desk, dipped quill into ink, and began to write the letter that would bring Faith rushing home—if she ever returned from Italy.

  * * * *

  “You never told me what happened between you two.”

  Bryce Blair gazed at Amelia Hubbard Drake. They were in London, having met by accident at a ball. The ballroom was a crush of people so they’d sneaked off and were sitting at a table next to the buffet.

  Amelia was Chase’s sister, but she didn’t have any of his contemptible traits. She was pretty, amiable, and smart, and as far as Bryce was aware, she’d never hurt or betrayed anyone.

  “He wasn’t on his best behavior in Cairo.” Bryce wasn’t inclined to provide details that would upset her. “Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “My curiosity is soaring. Knowing my brother as I do, I’m imagining every sordid offense a human could commit. You’re horrid to keep me in suspense.”

  Bryce couldn’t bear to explain, and in the end, hadn’t Chase redeemed himself? After Bryce had been captured by slavers, Chase had helped to liberate him. Chase’s bravery had saved Bryce’s life. Why complain about the rest of it?

  He and Chase had been friends since they were seven and attending the same boarding school. They’d been aristocrats’ sons who’d lost their names and legacies. They’d bonded immediately, but that bond had been severed in Egypt.

  Bryce had fallen in love with Katarina Morosvky. She’d been hiding from her despicable relatives, hiding her younger brother and sister—who were very rich—from them too. Chase had betrayed them, had assisted the family in kidnapping Katarina’s siblings. Like the worst sort of Judas, he’d been seduced into it by a bag of gold coins.

  It had been such shocking conduct, that even now over a year later, it seemed impossible to believe.

  Chase had always been awful, had never fretted over right and wrong. He simply forged ahead, usually because he was broke and needed money, and he wound up in terrible jams. Bryce had rescued him from many of them, and typically forgave him for his sins, but his actions toward Katarina had been beyond the pale.

  He and Chase had split in Egypt, with Bryce telling Chase to travel to England without him. He’d been very angry, but he missed Chase.

  He missed his wild antics and wicked deeds. He missed his devil-may-care attitude and his brazen disregard for convention and morality. Bryce always followed the rules, but Chase never did. Bryce had never known another person with Chase’s particular brand of narcissism and ego.

  Disgusted as he was to admit it, he was eager to apprise Chase of all that had recently transpired. Chase had been there during the dreary years when Bryce had struggled and toiled and couldn’t move forward.

  He was married to Katarina now and raising her siblings, Nicholas and Isabelle. His family’s seat had been restored to him. His father’s title had been bestowed on Bryce so he was Earl of Radcliffe. Chase had constantly urged him to grab for it, but Bryce had been too timid to reach out and take what was his.

  He had it all now, including a castle in Scotland and Chase—out of all the people in the world—would find that information to be hilarious.

  “Your brother wasn’t kind to Katarina,” he told Amelia, hoping she would drop the subject.

  “You can be so maddeningly circumspect.”

  “I don’t like to dwell on what occurred in Egypt.”

  “Chase must have been even more hideous than I suspected.”

  “I was furious at the time, but I’m getting over it.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes. Has there been any news? Have you heard from him?”

  Chase had left Egypt several months before Bryce, but he’d never made it home. Africa was a dangerous place, and Bryce had been dreadfully worried that Chase had met with foul play, which certainly had him regretting their heated words in Cairo.

  They’d quarreled viciously, and Bryce had assumed he never wanted to see Chase again. If memory served, he was positive he’d said exactly that, but he hadn’t meant it. And with Chase not returning to London, Bryce hated that he’d tossed his friend away with so little consideration of their lengthy history.

  So he was stunned when Amelia said, “As a matter of fact, I have heard from Chase.”

  “You…have?”

  “A letter arrived yesterday.”

  “From where? Where has he been?”

  “Apparently, after he sailed from Alexandria, his ship was attacked by pirates.”

  “No!”

  “Yes, and he was thrown overboard.”

  “Oh, my Lord! Is he all right?”

  “Yes, he’s with another British fellow. I guess they were able to swim to shore.”

  “That tepid description sounds as if there was no drama to the event at all. Are you sure it’s all that happened?”

  “There’s probably much more to it, but very likely he doesn’t wish to frighten me. I’ve been frightened enough with him missing for so long.”

  “He’s still there?”

  “Yes, he’s penniless and begging me to send him money.”

  Bryce grinned. “The same old Chase.”

  “Yes, the same old Chase. Luckily I have money to send.”

  Amelia had had the same rough childhood as Chase, but she’d married into Lord Sidwell’s family and he’d gifted her and her husband, Lucas, with a fine estate as a wedding present. These days, she wasn’t struggling.

  “I hope he intends to come home,” Bryce said.

  “I expect he will—if he isn’t attacked by pirates again on the way. I’ll pen my reply later tonight. I’ll inform him about Radcliffe Castle and your title. He’ll be thrilled.”

  “He always encouraged me to fight for what was mine.”

  “Well, in this instance, he was correct for once.”

  They laughed, and she asked, “Would you like me to include a message from you?”

  Bryce pondered forever. Did he have a message for Chase? Had he forgiven Chase? He thought he had. Chase was one of those outrageous souls who blustered through life like a bull in a china shop. It was easy to get
angry with him, but it was hard to stay angry.

  “Yes,” he said, “add a message for me. Tell him I’m back in England. I’ve wed Katarina, my injuries are healed, and I’m very happy. Tell him to call on me the moment he returns. If he doesn’t, I’ll find him and give him a good clout alongside the head.”

  “I’ll make certain he knows.”

  “Tell him too—this is the most important part—that all is forgiven and forgotten.”

  Amelia smiled. “I will tell him, and I’m so glad for both of you.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “What if we left?”

  “Left where? The villa? Is that what you mean?”

  Chase stared at Ralston and said, “What if we went home?”

  “To England?” Ralston asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well…”

  Ralston’s jaw dropped in shock.

  They’d just had their daily fencing lesson, so they’d been hot and sweaty and had headed to the bathing pool. They lounged on the stone benches like a pair of decadent, lazy kings.

  “I didn’t think we had the money,” Ralston said.

  “I have some now.”

  “Where did you get it? You didn’t rob anyone, did you?”

  “I suppose it depends on your definition of the word rob.”

  “It’s either robbery or it isn’t.”

  “When I was thrashing those criminals, I told them I’d stop if they paid me damages.”

  “And they paid you? Just like that?”

  “Yes.”

  Ralston scowled, never quite able to figure out if Chase was serious. As a vicar’s son, he’d never gone anywhere or done anything until he was seventeen and had begun his job with Mr. Fitzwilliam. His adventure with Chase was a revelation.

  Chase barged through the world, enjoying himself, breaking things, taking things, and generally living as he pleased. Ralston tiptoed around, never shirking a duty or avoiding a responsibility. It wasn’t in his nature, while Chase, at his very core, seemed rotten and unreliable.

  Most of the time. Those other tiny slivers of time, he was a grand fellow. Ralston owed Chase his life, which was a debt he could never repay. But he owed him something else too. Loyalty, maybe? Friendship and constancy?