Lord of Mischief

by Sasha Cottman

  A gentle hand stroked her hair. “I know it hurts like the devil at the moment, and believe me, the only thing you can do is to cry it out. Let all the anger and pain come out of you,” said Adelaide. She knelt in front of Eve, and in that moment, Eve was so grateful to have such a strong and supportive mother.

  “I don’t know how to deal with it, Mama. I think my heart is going to give out.”

  “You have to deal with heartache—you cannot avoid it. I know all you can see right now is the blackness of it, but you will come out the other side. Time is the one thing you can count on to help heal yourself. Not today, and probably not for some time, but your heart will heal,” replied Adelaide.

  Eve pulled her knees up to her chest and lay over them. Staring over the field of long green grass, she let her mind speak its truth. A truth she had refused to accept since the day she had set her mind on marrying Freddie.

  It wasn’t just the pain of a broken heart that troubled her. She had been stubborn and reckless in her pursuit of him. His words, though they had cut through her like a knife, were filled with truth. Spite against Caroline had been the reason she had first pursued him. But that had long ago fallen away. She loved him with her whole heart, and he had smashed it to pieces.

  “You will rise from this a stronger woman, Eve. The woman you become shall have been forged in the fire of heartbreak. Your future love is out there. Give yourself time, but never abandon the hope of love.”

  “It’s my fault,” replied Eve, unable to look at her mother.

  “You cannot blame yourself. Lady Rosemount told me Freddie thought you would make a suitable wife. If he had not thought so, she would not have extended the invitation for us to visit. He is a young man simply not ready for marriage. It is a good thing you both discovered the truth now,” replied Adelaide.

  Her mother’s words would have brought comfort if it had been a simple matter of two people not ready to marry. Eve knew the situation was more complicated.

  “I pushed him into a tight corner and when he realized he was going to have to offer for me, he did the only thing he could and ran away. The pain of rejection hurts, but what hurts more is the sense of utter humiliation. I left London telling everyone I expected to be engaged by the time I returned. Freddie told me I only went after him to spite Caroline, and I am ashamed to say there is a deal of truth in his words.”

  She heard her mother’s soft intake of breath. A hand took hold of her chin and raised it. Eve met Adelaide’s loving gaze.

  “You are not the first girl who wished desperately to be married. And if Lady Rosemount and I hadn’t thought the two of you could have made a go of it, we would never have arranged this visit. I think you will find in time that Freddie comes to realize he could have handled things better with you.

  “As for you and Caroline, I have never been able to understand how the two of you went from being best friends all your lives to becoming outright rivals. You used to be so close.”

  Eve didn’t reply. Her mind was still trying to come to terms with the truth. Jealousy was an ugly word, and it had hardened her heart toward her sister.

  Eve and her mother sat in the field for a while longer, only returning to the coach when the driver came and mentioned they would not make the next major inn before nightfall if they didn’t leave soon.

  As Eve settled back into the soft leather seats of the coach, she sensed her mood beginning to change. Going home and sleeping in her own bed would no doubt help. She opened a book and began to read. By the time they reached the outskirts of London, it was night and she was falling asleep.

  As she drifted off, she felt the comfort of a warm blanket being wrapped around her. Her mother softly whispered, “Sleep, my girl. Find your inner peace, and in time, when you are ready, you will find your prince.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  When Eve and her mother arrived home, Eve headed up to her room without greeting any members of the Saunders family. She couldn’t bring herself to face them. Especially Caroline.

  A maid brought up a plate of supper. She was accompanied by Adelaide. After the maid set the tray down and left the room, Adelaide came and sat beside Eve.

  “I’ve told your father the bare bones of what happened. To say he is furious would be a gross understatement. Your father was prepared to overlook some of his foolishness because you clearly loved the boy, but after today I will say Freddie is lucky he is not within a hundred miles of here tonight,” she said.

  Eve picked up a small cheese sandwich and took a bite. For all the fine dining at Rosemount Abbey, it was good to be home, back eating simpler fare. As she sat and chewed, her mother gently held her hand.

  “What have you told Caroline and Francis?” asked Eve.

  “Nothing.”

  Having intelligent, caring parents was a priceless gift. While both Adelaide and Charles Saunders would be livid at the outrageous injury inflicted upon their daughter’s heart, neither of them would be making a fuss in public.

  The events at Rosemount Abbey had taken place far from London. It was unlikely anyone outside of the Rosemount family would know what had transpired to compel the Saunders women to suddenly up and leave the abbey. Lord and Lady Rosemount were respectable, decent people, who Eve knew to be shocked and disgusted by Freddie’s actions—or what they knew of them.

  “You might want to talk to Caroline in the morning, after which your father and I will decide what we shall tell Francis. Your father will no doubt speak to Will.”

  The conversations with her brothers were, to Eve’s mind, the easier of the tasks. What she herself would tell Caroline was far more difficult. In confiding in Caroline, she would finally have to give voice to some of her inner demons.

  Eve slept late the next morning. The trip home in the coach had been long and uncomfortable. She woke to soft rapping on her bedroom door. As she opened an eye, she caught sight of Caroline’s face in the doorway.

  “Are you awake?” asked Caroline.

  Eve sat up in bed and settled the blankets neatly around herself. She beckoned for her sister to enter the room.

  Caroline closed the door gently behind her and walked slowly across the floor toward the bed. She took a seat at the end of the four-poster, her back against one of the upright posts.

  “So how was your trip?” she asked. She was slowly wringing her hands and wouldn’t meet Eve’s gaze. Her discomfort was evident.

  Eve sucked a deep breath in, then slowly let it out. “It was an utter disaster. He rejected me,” she replied. Facing the cold, hard truth was the only way she would ever get over the heartbreak. Part of that cold, hard truth was also accepting she had been a willing participant in her own downfall.

  Caroline wiped away a tear. “Oh, Eve, I suspected something terrible had happened when you and Mama arrived home last night. I heard you downstairs and I waited for you to come racing up and be full of happiness, ready to show me your betrothal ring. When I heard you go straight to your room and close the door, I knew. I knew that beastly boy had broken your heart.” She climbed off the bed and moved closer to Eve. She leant down and kissed her sister softly on the cheek. “He doesn’t deserve you. He never did.”

  “He was not the only one to blame for what happened,” replied Eve. While Freddie was now in her past, there were still things she needed to resolve before she had a clear path forward.

  “What do you mean? If Freddie behaved in an ungentlemanly fashion toward you, I cannot see how that is your fault.”

  Freddie may well have been the one who’d torn all her hopes and dreams to pieces, but she had been very much the architect of her own destruction. She had ignored everyone and their not-so-subtle hints about him. She had been a willing participant in the foolish Bachelor Board games and stood by while he insulted her family and friends. She was now paying the price for her reckless behavior and for having given up her heart.

  “I was in such an almighty rush to get married. I thought Freddie was the perfect mix of
rake, brains, and money, all wrapped up in a heavenly masculine body. I fell in love with him. What I failed to see was he was playing me all along. That I wasn’t a part of the hunt—I was the prey.”

  Caroline dropped down onto the bed beside Eve and studied her sister for a moment. Eve knew Caroline well enough. Her beauty hid a clever mind. Little got past Caroline.

  “Why were you in such a rush to get married? As I recall, you were the one who was saying Lucy and Avery were a cautionary tale for all young women. That none of us should act with haste when it came to marriage.”

  Eve sighed. The time had come to have the most difficult conversation of her life. A conversation where she would have to bare many of her deepest secrets.

  “I originally set my sights on Freddie because I wanted to beat you to the altar. I was desperate to be a bride before you. To have my one moment in the sun.”

  Caroline sat for a moment and stared at Eve. “But why?”

  Eve closed her eyes as fresh tears began to fall. “Because you are so beautiful, and you are always the one the young gentlemen want to talk to and dance with at parties. There have been so many times we have been in a group of people, and while you were the bright and shining center of attention, I stood on the side invisible to all. Freddie was the first one who paid me attention. I was filled with bitter happiness when instead of falling at your feet, he treated you with such horrible disdain.” She put her face in her hands and began to sob. The shame of finally acknowledging she had spent much of her life being bitterly jealous of her younger sister threatened to overwhelm her.

  Caroline had been nothing other than a loving and supportive sister. She had been Eve’s rock so many times, yet all the while, she had been the cause of much pain in her sister’s life.

  “And that is why you threw yourself at Freddie Rosemount, just to spite me? Oh, Eve, how could you do such a thing to yourself? I cannot believe you hate me so much you would throw your life away in the hope it would make me miserable.”

  There were no words for the depth of Eve’s pain. She had taken a sisterly love and twisted it into an unnatural shape. “I am ashamed beyond words. I am jealous of you. My own sister.”

  Caroline climbed off the bed. She rummaged around at the end of the fire and picked up a poker. She came back to Eve and jabbed at her gently with it. “I’ve a good mind to strike you with this and throw your foolish, jealous body on the fire. Mama may be none too pleased, but she will get over it. As you say, I am the golden child so clearly, I am the only one who matters,” said Caroline, her voice breaking.

  Eve looked up. Caroline was still beside the bed, the poker pointed at her. Her words had dripped of sarcasm but her cheeks were shining with tears.

  “You think you are the only one in this family who is jealous of their siblings? I would give a pound a day to be allowed to work in Papa’s business, like Francis does. To have travelled the world like Will. As for being the center of attention, men don’t see me. They see my looks and figure. Truth be told, I was jealous of you and Freddie. Much as I thought Freddie a fool, I was prepared to accept I had lost you forever because he clearly made you happy. You were always laughing and having secret conversations together.”

  The poker slipped out of her fingers and onto the floor where it landed with a thud. Caroline looked at it but made no effort to pick it up.

  Eve wiped her eyes. She struggled for words. She did not have the monopoly on jealousy. Caroline, too, had felt the ugly emotion. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I had no idea of the pain you have suffered.”

  Caroline walked over to Eve’s wardrobe and pulled out a deep blue and white striped day gown. She marched over and threw it on the bed. She drew in a shaky breath.

  “Get dressed. You and I need to go out and have a day together. At the end of it we shall apologize to one another for all the horrid things we have said. Then we shall say no more of our stupid petty insecurities. From this day on, we work together as loving sisters to find the Eve and Caroline Saunders we deserve to be, and men such as Freddie Rosemount can all go hang.” She headed for the door but stopped as she took hold of the handle. “And I promise if Freddie does cross our paths again, I shall heat up the end of that bloody poker and stab him with it in a most unpleasant place.”

  Eve stared at the door after Caroline had gone. Both her sister and Cecily Rosemount were right, she did have a choice in the type of person she would become. Freddie had shown her the folly of her actions. It was time to pick herself up and become the Eve Saunders of which she could be proud.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  After arriving back in London, Freddie decided it would be prudent of him to lie low for a few days. He still had time up his sleeve before he had to go and see the Bachelor Board. He sent word to Osmont Firebrace that he had completed the final challenge, after which he spent the best part of two days trying to make a sizeable hole in his father’s wine cellar.

  Being blind drunk meant his brain only had to worry about breathing, sleeping, and throwing up. It had no time to consider Eve or the pain she must be in at that moment. Staying out of sight also meant that if any of the Saunders family decided to pay him a visit, he could hide behind the doors of Rosemount House.

  By the fourth morning, he had reconciled himself to his new life. The hangover of the past few days was fading into the background and he woke sober and ready to claim his prize.

  His membership of the Bachelor Board would ensure he was the first self-made member of the Rosemount family since the very first Viscount Rosemount. He felt like Alexander the Great on the cusp of conquering the known world. He would soon have an army at his back.

  After a quick breakfast, he took Saintspreserveus for a long walk before readying himself for the trip to Barton Street. Leaving home, he cheekily picked up one of his father’s walking canes.

  Standing on the front steps of Rosemount House, he stood twirling the stick in his hand. Then, with a firm tap of it on the stone front step, he set off for Barton Street, a swagger in his step.

  The morning was crisp, with a chill in the air that spoke of snow. He was too wrapped up in the warmth of his triumph to feel the cold. He made quick time across St James’s Park, bowing at, and greeting, every passer-by he encountered. The occasional odd look from strangers was met with a laugh. If people didn’t know who he was now, give him a year and they would be begging to make his acquaintance.

  Arriving at Barton Street, he verily danced up the steps of the office and into the entrance hall. He rapped on the door of Osmont Firebrace’s office with his father’s cane and stood back, waiting for his grand entrance.

  The door opened. Osmont Firebrace bowed low as Freddie stepped inside. “Rosemount. You didn’t waste your time. I thought you might struggle with the final challenge, but I clearly underestimated your cold-blooded nature. My spies tell me the Saunders chit arrived back in London before you did. I trust you have not been challenged to a stupid duel by any members of her family?”

  Freddie accepted the veiled congratulations with good grace. With his future all but secured, he could afford to ignore Osmont’s derisive nature. One day he would wield enough power and influence he would not need to rely upon men such as him. “I did as you asked in every challenge. My ambition can no longer be in any doubt,” he replied.

  “Please do sit,” said Osmont. He picked up a small bell and rang it, then took a seat behind his desk. When a servant opened the door a few minutes later he was carrying a bottle of brandy and a glass. He set them down on the table in front of Freddie before bowing low and leaving.

  Freddie sat forward and picked up the bottle. “Croizet Cognac. Very nice. Will you break your abstinence from alcohol and join me?”

  He was at pains to maintain a disinterested air about himself, but his heart was racing. Croizet had been the sommelier to Napoleon. His cognac was considered to be the best in the world. The bottle he held in his hand was worth a small fortune.

  “Go on, open it. I shall t
ake my enjoyment from having watched you drink it,” said Osmont.

  Freddie opened the bottle and poured himself a glass. Behind the desk Osmont sat with a look of absolute self-satisfaction written on his face. Freddie was his shiny new protégé.

  Freddie sipped at the cognac. It was smooth with the perfect blend of dried fruit and citrus themes overlaying one another. He intended to develop a taste for such fine brandy and the means to be able to afford it.

  Osmont rose from behind the desk and held out his hand. “Well done. You are almost there. There is the final matter of payment of your annual subscription. After you pay one hundred guineas into the Bachelor Board bank account at the Bank of England, I shall hand you your letter of introduction.”

  Freddie finished his drink. He had known there would be one final twist. The matter of one hundred guineas was a problem he could overcome. His annual allowance would not cover it, but he had been canny with his money while at university, and his savings would see him make the mark. He would simply have to ask his father for access to his money. Once Lord Rosemount understood his son’s need, he would no doubt send instructions to his bank within a day or two and Freddie would be set.

  “Of course. I shall have to write to my father to access funds, but I would expect to have the money by the end of the week. I trust that won’t present a problem,” he replied.

  Osmont waved his words away. “I am sure your father will understand the imperative nature of your need. It’s not every day a young man such as yourself sets out on his own path. He will be glad of your news. And just in case you still have some small remnant of guilt over the Saunders girl, don’t worry. The Bachelor Board will find you a well-trained, docile wife who meets with your parents’ approval. One who will do as she is told in the bedroom and not question where your money comes from. Pretty gowns and sparkling trinkets keep women in line.”

  Freddie poured himself a second drink. By the time he left Barton Street an hour later, he felt he could take on the world. He returned home the same way he had come. On foot. With two glasses of expensive French cognac under his belt, he had an extra spring in his step.