The Barbarian and His Lady (The Friendship Series Book 8)

by Julia Donner

  Lady Asterly, her tone as cold and cutting as a knife, said, “I doubt your explanation, madam. It is my belief that Lord Morfett encouraged you to come here. Did he pay you also?”

  “Unfair, my lady,” the caller cried. “I am not here for my sake and require no payment to do what is right.”

  This time Lady Asterly muttered, “You may not have been paid but instigating this scene is certainly far from right.”

  When it became apparent that the interview was about to become more unpleasant, Allison lifted her hand for quiet. “Please, all of you. No more.”

  A terrible weight filled her chest but in an odd way, there was relief. It was over. No more hiding from the past. Elopement was not an uncommon scandal. Accounting oneself as a war widow, unmarried and assuming a false name, was bad enough. Now Albert’s actual wife accused them of a crime. This could not go on and certainly not in the house of a woman who offered friendship and who’d had her trust betrayed.

  Cool fingertips touched hers, interrupting what Allison was about to say. Lady Asterly whispered, “Allison, please, think before you do anything rash. Cameron is waiting for you downstairs. He’ll take you somewhere private to sort this out. Talk to him, please. I beg you, do not give your father and this female the satisfaction of knowing their cruel plan bore painful fruit.”

  Allison marveled that she sounded calm, even indifferent, when she raised her voice for all to hear, “This person is speaking the truth. Albert and I never married. He confessed before we reached an altar that he was already wed.” She faced Lady Asterly. “Albert Davidson was not a bigamist, but I am indeed an unwholesome connection, my lady. I beg to take your leave.”

  She went swiftly from the room before anyone could stop her, but was waylaid halfway up the steps. Allison looked down at the gloved hand covering hers on the banister, then into the hopeful, anxious gaze of Cameron’s sister. She had his colorful eyes and soulful expression.

  “Please, Mrs. Dav…Allison. Please allow me to say this. We do not care about what that horrid woman implies. Cameron loves you to distraction. Please do not break his heart.”

  Allison watched the girl’s eyes widen when she withdrew her hand and pressed her palm on Agnes Bradford’s cheek. “Miss Agnes, please content yourself. It is too late for Cameron and I, years too late. I will not soil your brother’s reputation, and also yours. I am sure you will want to find a young man of your own while in town. But I must thank you for this kindness. You are as sweet-natured and true as your brother. Forgive me. I must go.”

  The shock of the confrontation was fading, leaving her with a weariness heavier than anything she’d ever known. She had assumed that when the truth became widely known that she wouldn’t be able to carry the weight of so much censure. She’d been wrong. She wasn’t shattered or even working to control a volatile emotional catastrophe. She felt exhaustion, the burden of resignation. That her heart had stopped beating. The entire inside of her chest felt filled with lead, but that was to be expected after so many years fearing this exact outcome.

  She did yearn for something to drink stronger than tea or lemonade. Ratafia or port. By nightfall, the numbness would have dispersed and she’d be asking for both. But now, having endured what she knew would eventually come to pass—had indeed occurred with all its lurid elements—she could move on to different goals. Perhaps she would ring for a glass of port while she collected her things.

  Cameron heard voices raised as he crossed the landing to the Green Receiving room. Protective apprehension sped up his heart and pace when he recognized that it belonged to his mother. There were few times in his life when he’d heard her rail at anyone or anything. The circumstances would have to be grave. Teeth clenched and ire rising, he pushed aside the footman’s hand and reached for the door handle.

  “Cameron!”

  The high-pitched whisper came from Agnes as she flew down the staircase. What was she doing above stairs? Before he could ask, she clutched his sleeve and pulled him down the passageway.

  “Agnes, why is Mother in a taking? Have you seen Allison? Is she all right?”

  Agnes pulled him to a halt and darted glances at the footmen, one by the receiving room door and two below them in the foyer, stationed at the entry.

  Impatient, Cameron shook his head. “Pay them no mind, Agnes. They won’t tell tales. What is going on?”

  “Oh, Cameron, it was horrid! There is a beastly female in there. She came to make mischief and made a dreadful fuss. Lady Asterly would have none of it, and Mother, well, she took exception. She won’t stand for a slight against any of her chicks. You know how she has wanted you to find happiness, even more than having you with us again.”

  “Stay on the point, Aggie. Is Allison’s father in there?”

  “Why, no, I don’t believe so. It’s a woman with Allison’s last name creating the fuss, saying she was married to Albert. Then Lady Asterly accused the woman of taking payment to spread tales. Something about a Lord Morpet.”

  “Morfett.”

  “That’s the name! And your Allison stood there so brave and composed. She stared the woman down, but she’s leaving, Cameron. I know it. She said that she will not bring shame on this house. You must do something, Cameron.”

  The receiving room door opened and a small, vibrantly angry, self-important woman came out, bustling down the hallway toward them and the staircase leading down to the ground floor.

  Agnes yanked on his sleeve and said with a hiss, “That’s her! The one who said vile things about your Allison.”

  He grabbed his sister’s hand and hurried her back to the receiving room. “Go in and take care of Mother. She’ll be shaking from the aftermath. Tell Lady Asterly that she must do everything she can to keep Allison here, short of locking her inside.”

  Agnes kissed his cheek. “I promise to sit on her if I catch her leaving while we’re here. You must fix this, Cameron. I want all of us to live together.”

  He kissed her cheek and ran down the steps. The footman saw him coming and swung the doors open. A hackney driver was lifting the reins as Cameron leaped down the last steps to the curb. He yanked the brake back into place and spoke to the driver.

  “Do not leave until I give you permission.”

  For good measure, Cameron flipped him a coin. When the driver touched a finger to his hat brim, Cameron yanked open the hackney’s door.

  “Madam, we have a matter of business to discuss.’

  Chapter 23

  Cameron paced the foyer as footmen extinguished sconces, lamps and chandeliers. Doors quietly opened and closed as the nightly ritual of putting the house to bed came to an end. Lights in the foyer were left on, giving enough light to show his friend coming down the steps.

  Cameron held out his hand. “My thanks for this, Perry.”

  “Sounds a bit of a treat to me, and to add a bit more credence to the lie we’ll be perpetrating this night, I asked someone else to come along. He’s in town and complaining that he’s bored to distraction. Please allow him to partake.”

  A light tap of the doorknocker stopped them from saying more. A tall, auburn-haired man stepped into the foyer. Although he was stylishly dressed, there was something a bit wild about the edges, a threat about his bulk that Cameron immediately admired. A hint of gentleness, combined with suppressed menace, yet his presence stated that he was not a man to be trifled with or ignored.

  Asterly introduced, “Lord Bainbridge, may I present Lieutenant Bradford.”

  Bainbridge didn’t incline his head in a proper nod of greeting. He stuck out his big hand. “A pleasure. You’re the one he calls Squid, right?”

  “Aye. The pleasure is mine, but I must first warn you that this night’s adventure might bring cause for scandal.”

  Lord Bainbridge cast aside the warning with a smile that revealed an intimidating array of strong, white teeth. “Sounds like my sort of evening, Lieutenant.” He turned to Perry. “Brought the coach, an old one with no crest, like you said,
and drove it myself.”

  “Excellent. Shall we get to it?” Asterly turned and softly whistled. A burly footman not in livery came out of the shadows. “Gem, you’ll be up in the box with the reins. Squid, give the man the address and we’re on our way.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  They spoke little on the way to Morfett’s house, only enough to map out the plan. Cameron made it clear that he would do all the talking. They were along for intimidation and support in the event something didn’t go the way it should.

  Gem stopped the team and the men descended to the street as Gem lashed the reins to the brake. He lifted a rug and a boy crawled out and down to the street to stand with the horses. Cameron recognized an Asterly House stable boy. Gem put a finger to his mouth and the lad nodded, fearless and determined.

  Cameron pointed at the boy and Gem whispered, “My sister’s youngest. He’ll not budge from that spot. Do we go in through the back door or over the garden fence?”

  Feeling Perry and Bainbridge at his back, Cameron whispered, “Garden fence. Crimm said there are possibilities for entry in the back of the house. We’re to look for a teapot on a ground floor windowsill. He’s had someone inside leave it unlatched.”

  Gem grunted. “Must be the new hall boy what’s coming in the morning.”

  Cameron had been given a description of the house and led the way. Instead of finding a way over the fence, he checked the gate and found it unlocked. He’d give that hall boy a shiny guinea come morning.

  They moved silently, approaching the house under leafless trees and winter-denuded shrubbery. A light glowed in a second floor window, handily directly above the ground floor window with a large, yellow teapot. They entered through the window in silence. Cameron waited for the other three to get inside then latched the window after them.

  Embers in the fireplace gave enough light to find the door. In the passageway, a small form stepped out of the shadows. Cameron hunkered down and whispered, “Hall boy?”

  When the frail lad nodded, Cameron asked, “Which way?”

  A bony finger pointed up the staircase. “Third door on right.”

  “Servants’ stairs?”

  He pointed. “Left. End of the passage.”

  “Good lad. Go with this man. Do not be afraid. Show him how to find the back door.”

  Cameron stood. “Gem, we’ll meet you at the servants’ steps. As quietly as you can, break the lock. Make it look like we entered by the back door. Take good care of this little one. This won’t take long.”

  After testing the first step for squeaks and finding it solid, Cameron swiftly climbed two flights. He expected Perry to be quiet, and marveled that a man as large as Bainbridge could be utterly silent. He stopped his search where faint light glowed under the doorway. He raised a hand to stop his followers then pointed at Perry’s right boot. The stiletto was handed over, and Cameron opened the door. Morfett was abed, a decanter of claret at the bedside. Alone, fortunately.

  Cameron crossed the floor before Morfett registered what was happening. He closed the fingers of his left hand around Morfett’s throat to cut off a shout. He used the knifepoint to spear and haul back the bedcovers, exposing spindly legs sprouting from under his nightgown. He clamped the flat side of the blade between his teeth and jerked the shivering man up against the back of the bed. The wickedly honed blade edge grazed his chin as he took it from his teeth and lay it against Morfett’s neck.

  “You didn’t heed my warning, you stinking bastard. I told you to never cause your daughter a moment of distress, and what do you do? Pay someone to humiliate her.”

  Morfett’s attempt at denial was cut off when Cameron tightened his fingers. “I spent time in the Barbary. I had many jobs. There was a nasty one I learned in the eunuch’s quarters. Never thought I would ever make use of it, but there’s no way a man forgets what is involved in castration.”

  Morfett’s eyes bulged as he choked and struggled to get free. Cameron lifted away the knife to deal him a vicious shake then released his grip on Morfett’s throat, who immediately vomited into his lap and shakily wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

  “You can’t do this to me, Bradford. I’ll have you up on charges!”

  It seemed the right time to smile, so he did. “If you haven’t noticed, I brought witnesses.” He sensed Perry and Bainbridge stepping closer, into the light. “They are going to swear that I’ve been with them the entire night playing cards. Listen closely. These are your options.”

  Cameron slammed his hand over Morfett’s mouth and used the knife tip to hike up the nightgown hem. The blade flashed in the firelight when he lowered it to Morfett’s groin, then instructed with relish, “This lot you’ve got here is pretty much useless anyway, but no man likes to be without his stones. You’ll keep yours as long as you stay away from the child you pretend is your daughter. If I hear that you’ve retaliated in any way, I’ll saw off the lot. Now, have a care. When I take away my hand, you will agree. If you do not, I’ll slice’em off now.”

  Morfett managed to get out a garbled agreement and quieted when the two men came to the foot of the bed. Asterly said, “If anything happens to Bradford, I’ll do it.”

  Bainbridge’s deep voice rumbled, “I don’t know why you’re waiting.” He withdrew a dirk from under his jacket.” I’ll cut’em now and watch him bleed out.”

  Morfett’s eyes rolled back in his head. He slumped and fell sideways. Cameron handed back Perry’s knife, noticing Bainbridge’s disappointment.

  Perry muttered, “Bainbridge means it, Squid. Let’s get out of here before he goes berserker on us.”

  They went quickly to the end of the passageway and down the back stairs. Gem and the hall boy waited at the base. They headed for the rear entrance, where the door latch hung at a crooked angle.

  Asterly lifted the boy up in his arms. “You’re coming home with me, if that is your liking.”

  Hope flickered in the boy’s deep-set, too old eyes. “Call me Willie, sir.”

  They strode through the back garden. Cameron held the gate open and paused to look up at the bedroom window. This would have to do for now. If nothing else was gained from this night’s work, an overworked child would find a home where he would toil only a little, get an education, and if Elizabeth had anything to say about it, she’d feed Willie until his sunken cheeks glowed with health.

  At the carriage, Gem took the boy from Asterly and tossed him up on the box. Cameron held the coach door as Perry climbed inside. He stopped Bainbridge. “My lord, thanks for your assistance.”

  Bainbridge snorted and displayed his teeth in an alarming smile. “Finally had some fun. Hate London, and what are friends for if not to make use of? Let’s play some cards and drink Peregrine’s wine.”

  The vehicle sagged a bit when Bainbridge climbed in. Cameron followed as the stable lad scrambled up to join Gem and the new hall boy on the box. The team was moving before the door closed. Clopping hooves clattered on cobblestones as the coach turned onto a gas lit street.

  A streetlamp’s dull light showed Asterly’s grin, making Cameron ask, “What?”

  “That was the easy part, Squid. Now you’ve got to talk her into marrying you.”

  Chapter 24

  A knock on the bedchamber door interrupted what remained of rushed packing. Allison was surprised when Crimm opened it. He rarely went above stairs. That was for the servants under him. Perhaps he’d come up to explain why her bandboxes and baggage had gone missing. A great deal of suspicious activity and non-activity had become apparent in the last twelve hours.

  “I do beg your pardon, Mrs. Davidson. His lordship asks that you would join him in the book-room at your convenience.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Crimm. Would you tell him I will be down directly?”

  He paused, as if about to say something else, then let it go with a nod. He allowed the door to stand open to reveal he stood in the hallway. He meant to wait for her.

  She placed the silk stock
ings she’d wrapped in tissue on the counterpane and said to the maid, “Rose, if you would finish up here and have the baggage taken to the servant’s entry.”

  Rose dipped a curtsey. “Ma’am, Sir Harry’s coach is in the mews. Shouldn’t we have your things carried there?”

  “I will not be taking Sir Harry’s conveyance. A hackney to the nearest Mail station will do, if you would see to that. Thank you, Rose.”

  She said it in such a way as to sound firm, but not rude, and left the room. She sensed Crimm’s concern as they walked down the passages and stairs to the book-room. Before he opened the door to announce her, he paused. “Madam, please forgive the brazenness, but I must pass along the extreme gratitude of everyone here at Asterly House. It was a near thing with the twins two years ago. Her ladyship let it be known that your assistance during this confinement made the experience, as she said, wondrously easy.”

  “If you would convey my best wishes to them, Mr. Crimm.”

  He inclined his head and opened the door. “Mrs. Davidson, your lordship.”

  While Allison curtsied, Asterly rose from behind his wife’s imposing desk and came around the corner to greet her. “Mrs. Davidson, I am so glad to have waylaid you before you left. Thank you, Crimm. See that we are not interrupted.”

  She should have realized that the staff would have passed along the information that she planned to go to Scotland and not Kent, but she couldn’t leave in the night like a thief. Not after their many kindnesses.

  Asterly escorted her to a settee and went to stand by the fireplace, an arm on the mantle. She waited in stillness as he stared at a shelf of books and collected his thoughts. Austere and self-contained, he looked every inch the former soldier. Add to that, his lineage, centuries of barons, had distilled in him the presence of authority and leadership.

  She compared the two brothers, twins who did not look much alike but shared the same mannerisms. Sir Harry’s knighthood derived from a grateful regent for a service never explained, and he could have assumed the title and done well, had Asterly died in the wars. But Sir Harry did not have his brother’s commanding mien and powerful presence. Because of this, she allowed for her feelings of weakness and unease. At the same time she was sure that if Asterly divined that his momentary pause before his speaking caused her to feel any discomfort, he would be appalled. She suppressed a flinch when he finally spoke.