Master Zane_The Rogue Aristocrat

by Maggie Carpenter

  "More like the right conclusion," Zane remarked raising one wicked eyebrow.

  "What are we going to do?"

  "That's why I was wondering if you were going to the ball. It's a social situation where I can meet your parents without a lot of pressure. Perhaps when they understand you lost your memory and I had no idea where your home was it will make the circumstances more acceptable."

  "They already know I couldn't recall anything, so that's a given, and you'll impress them I know you will."

  "There's something else I must discuss with you," he said gravely. "Jimmy Foster is in jail."

  "He is? Zane, that's wonderful news, why do you look so worried?"

  "Because the man who assaulted you the night you decided to scamper off by yourself was also arrested, at least I'm fairly certain it was him, but an officer came to my home this morning and told me he'd been released. There wasn't enough evidence to hold him."

  "Evidence? I'm confused."

  "Foster was arrested for stealing, and I'm fairly sure the man in the cape was going to handle the stolen items."

  "You mean, your footman was stealing from you and trying to blackmail me? What a scoundrel!"

  "I'd rather not go into all the details," he said evasively, "and I'm only telling you this because I'm concerned about your safety. How did you arrive here today?"

  "Anne came to the house in her carriage, said hello to mother, and I came back here with her."

  "Good. I'll speak to Anne myself, but I want her to accompany you back and walk with you inside your house. No arguments, and don't go off anywhere by yourself."

  "Where would I go? Especially in this weather."

  "If you and your mother are shopping don't wander off. I'm very serious about this, Flora. This man could be dangerous and I don't want you taking any chances."

  "I won't, I promise, but will you tell me all the details about Jimmy Foster?"

  "Not today, but I will."

  "There's something I should mention to you as well, but it's good news."

  "Excellent, I'm always ready to hear good news."

  "I could be wrong but I think father would love you to be a potential suitor."

  "How can that be?"

  "Both he and mother were very excited this morning about an eligible aristocrat visiting from France. The way he described him I'm almost positive he was talking about you."

  "Mon dieu! That would be a gift."

  "A gift?" she softly repeated staring at him. "Does that mean what I hope it does?"

  "My feelings for you are real, Flora. I care for you deeply."

  "But? I hear a but."

  "There is no but," he said with a warm smile. "What is happening between us is something that needs to develop, and it will. You must be patient."

  "Patience is all well and good," she said thoughtfully, "though…"

  Her voice trailed off, and moving her eyes from his she stared down at the crackling flames.

  "Say it, ma chérie."

  "You need to decide what you want, Zane. I'm not going to wait forever."

  Her surprising words hung in the air, and finally letting out a breath he took her hand.

  "Flora, I want only what is best for you."

  She didn't say anything, but slowly turned her gaze back to him and sank into his shoulder.

  "I suppose we should get dressed and head downstairs," he muttered, though wishing he could stay in the room with her for the rest of the day and all through the night.

  "I suppose we should, but I could stay here like this forever."

  "I was thinking the same thing, but our lives call. The next couple of days are rather busy for me. I have to meet with a banker tomorrow and I have a pile of work to catch up on. I haven't been able to concentrate since you left, and that's all your fault."

  "My fault!" she exclaimed sitting up and staring at him.

  "Absolument! And I should spank you for it."

  "You're a beast," she retorted punching his arm, then breaking into a grin she added, "but a spanking will be worth it if I've been in your thoughts so much you can't work."

  "In that case—"

  Abruptly grabbing her wrist he yanked her across his lap and began to spank her, and though the smacks carried a keen sting she laughed and howled and wrestled in his hold, finally falling on to the floor at his feet.

  "There, you're now back in your place," he declared with mock sternness, then slipping off the couch he pushed her on to her back and laid on top of her. "Miss Flora Braithwaite, I am now ordering you to get dressed, because if you don't, you won't be leaving this room for a very long time."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As Zane marched through the rain on his way home Flora's comment swirled in his head.

  I'm not going to wait forever.

  All he'd been able to stammer back was, I want only what is best for you, and he cursed himself. He'd probably sounded like her father. He wanted to turn back the clock, take her in his arms, and say something reassuring like, you won't have to or, and you shouldn't. Anything would have been better than the patronizing, I want only what is best for you! To her credit she hadn't reacted badly, in fact she'd barely reacted at all. She'd just moved her eyes from the fire up to his then nestled against his shoulder.

  Hurrying forward, his head lowered against the weather as he tried to think of a way to make it up to her, he reached the end of the block and turned the corner. Knowing his front door was just a few steps away he picked up his pace, but suddenly a blinding pain sliced through the back of his head. Howling in shock he hit the wet concrete only to have a foot kick into his gut.

  "And that's for starters," a raspy voice muttered in his ear.

  Zane didn't move. If his attacker believed the assault had inflicted grievous harm the villain might be satisfied, and to Zane's great relief his ploy worked. The villain ran off, and hoping to catch a glimpse of him Zane lifted his eyes, squinting as he peered through the driving rain. All he caught sight of was a flapping black cape as the thug disappeared down the street. He tried to get to his feet but his head was pounding and the pain in his gut was excruciating, but managing to roll on to his stomach he pushed himself up on his hands and knees and began to crawl forward.

  "Your lordship! Flanders, hurry!"

  It had been Bancroft's worried voice, and a moment later the butler and the newly promoted first footman were getting him up and helping him into the house.

  "Fetch Doctor Lawson," Bancroft said hastily to his underling, "then the police."

  "Heavens, what's all this?" Mrs. Davis asked urgently as she entered the foyer.

  "He was attacked," Bancroft replied, "help me get his coat off."

  Flanders rushed off to get the doctor while Bancroft and Mrs. Davis managed to remove Zane's coat and move him into the drawing room, and as he collapsed on the couch Bancroft hurried to the drinks cabinet.

  "My heavens, who did this to you?" Mrs. Davis asked earnestly.

  "I, uh, didn't see his face," Zane muttered, "and I'm afraid he was quickly gone."

  "This will help," Bancroft declared, handing Zane the brandy snifter, "but I'd suggest small sips."

  "Thank you. I'm not badly hurt, at least I don't think so," Zane said trying to sound better than he felt. "I should have been paying more attention. The officer warned me. Still, the blighter got me from me behind. I swear he's cracked my skull in half."

  "Dr. Lawson will be here any minute," Mrs. Davis assured him. "He just a few houses away, thank the lord."

  The sound of the doorbell announced the doctor's arrival, and as Bancroft hurried away to let him in, Mrs. Davis remained at Zane's side in quiet comfort, immediately rising to her feet as Bancroft ushered the doctor into the room.

  "Doctor Lawson, thank goodness you were home," she said gratefully. "What can I get for you?"

  "Hello, Mrs. Davis. Some ice in case it's needed."

  "Right away, doctor."

  "Your lordship, this is Doctor Lawson
," Bancroft said formally. "Doctor Lawson—"

  "Please don't stand on ceremony," Zane said, feebly raising his hand. "Zane De'Ville is my name. Zane or Mr. De'Ville will be just fine."

  "Thank you," the doctor said warmly. "Tell me what happened and where it hurts."

  After a thorough examination the doctor determined Zane's injuries weren't life-threatening, and he had no broken ribs. More importantly, and miraculously, he had not suffered a concussion.

  "You'll have some nasty bruising on your midriff, keep plenty of ice on it, and that scrape on your cheekbone will sting for a day or two. You'll also have a nasty bump on the back of your head, but you should be feeling better fairly quickly."

  "Better enough to attend a ball in two days?"

  "It won't be the most comfortable evening you've ever had, but assuming you get plenty of rest and make sure you keep using ice packs you should be able to attend. I'll leave you a compound that will help with the pain, but don't hesitate to get in touch if you suffer any dizziness or nausea."

  "Thank you, doctor. I'm very grateful to you. Leave your bill and I'll take care of it the moment I'm able."

  "I'm not concerned about that. Whenever you get around it is fine, you just take care of yourself. I would strongly suggest you spend the day in bed tomorrow. Give your body a chance to recover."

  "I must attend that ball, so yes, I will spend the day in bed and under ice."

  "Then you'll make it," the doctor promised, "good day, Mr. De'Ville."

  "Good day, Doctor Lawson, and thank you again."

  As Bancroft escorted the doctor out, Mrs. Davis reappeared and hesitantly approached.

  "Would you care for a cup of tea? I don't know about the French, but we believe it cures just about everything."

  "I think perhaps I would. I need to wait for the police, then I'll go to my room and rest."

  "Excuse me, your lordship," Bancroft said entering the room, "there is a Detective Inspector Johnson here. He arrived just as Dr. Lawson was leaving."

  "Excellent, please show him in."

  "Right away, my lord."

  "I'll see about that tea," Mrs. Davis said, and with a last worried look she bustled out.

  "Your Lordship, I'm Detective Inspector Johnson," the detective said before Bancroft had a chance to introduce him. "Sorry it took me a while to get here. Are you up to answering a few questions?"

  "I'm eager to help as much as I'm able. Please sit down detective."

  "The first question is obvious. Do you know who did this?"

  "I suspect it was the same culprit your men arrested with Jimmy Foster and then released."

  "I've taken over that investigation, my lord. It's entirely possible we're not just talking about a simple matter of theft by a servant anymore. You've been aggressively assaulted and we must determine if there's a connection. Is there anything specific you can point to that would lead you to believe it was the same man we arrested?"

  "He was wearing a black cape. Wasn't the man you picked up wearing a black cape?"

  "Yes, my lord, he was indeed. Anything else?"

  "While I was on the ground he said, and that was just for starters. It was a personal attack. I can only assume he seeks revenge for the arrest of my first footman."

  "That is interesting," the detective murmured. "When he was in custody he said his name was Jeremy Wyatt. Does that ring any bells?"

  "None, I've never heard that name before."

  "It was odd. He knew we wouldn't be able to hold him, and he didn't come across as your typical criminal. Another strange thing—Jimmy Foster refused to tell us anything about the chap and still won't. He appears to be terrified of the man. Do you have any idea of the connection between your former footman and him?"

  "None, but then I'm not in the habit of learning about the private lives of my servants."

  "No," the detective said thoughtfully, "but perhaps your staff might be of help. I need to question them."

  "Please do, we need to get to the bottom of this. Is there anything further, detective? I'm not feeling particularly well."

  "I believe that will be all for now. Thank you for your time, your lordship, and I hope you feel better soon. I'll be in touch with any developments."

  "Bancroft, will you show the detective downstairs?"

  "Yes, my lord. Please follow me, detective."

  The two men left, and a moment later Mrs. Davis arrived with the tea. As she set the tray on the table and began to pour, Zane mulled over everything that had happened.

  Was Jeremy Wyatt the same man who had attacked Flora in front of the house? If so what had been his motive, and why had he been lurking around the front of the house late at night? What was his relationship to Jimmy Foster? Had he put Jimmy up to the blackmail scheme? The whole thing was a mystery.

  "Here's your tea, my lord," Mrs. Davis announced handing him a cup and saucer, "and I have wrapped some ice in a towel for you."

  "That's very kind of you, Mrs. Davis, thank you."

  "You're most welcome. I'll do whatever I can to see you better. Once Bancroft has finished with the detective he'll be back to help you upstairs. Is there anything else I can get you?"

  "Not at the moment, I'll just drink this and catch my breath."

  "Terrible business, what's the world coming to?" she muttered as she started out. "A gentleman can't even walk down the street safely these days."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Flora and Anne were about to head outside and climb into Anne's carriage for the short ride back to Flora's home when Flora abruptly grabbed Anne's arm.

  "Flora? What on earth's the matter? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

  "I, uh, I just had a terrible chill."

  "Are you feeling poorly?"

  "No, not that sort of chill. I don't know why but I'm worried about Zane."

  "Zane?" Anne repeated. "Worried about what exactly?"

  "I'm not sure. Can we please swing by his house before you take me home? You're with me so it won't appear inappropriate. I could say I just wanted to thank him again."

  "I suppose that would be all right."

  "Please? I have no idea why I'm feeling so anxious but I am. I must see him."

  "Clearly you won't rest until you do."

  "No, I won't, and I'm sorry. I hate to ask but it does feel dreadfully important."

  "Your feelings for Zane have become very strong. I'm right, aren't I?"

  "From the moment I met him I felt something, and Anne, after this morning my heart is lost to him. No matter what happens I'll always be grateful for what you did for me today."

  "I did nothing. You are brave and you are a woman who knows her own mind. Of course we must go to his house. You're not feeling this panic for no reason."

  "That's exactly what it is," Flora said earnestly. "Panic. I just don't know why."

  Carstairs had not yet returned, and opening the door, Anne popped up her umbrella. Both sheltering under it they hurried out to Anne's waiting carriage. It was a short ride to Zane's house, and as the coach rolled to a stop Flora was already opening the carriage door. Not waiting for Anne she ran through the rain, rang the bell and knocked on the door. Anne caught up to her just as it was opened by a very surprised Bancroft.

  "Lady Barkley, Lady Braithwaite, what a surprise, please, come in out of the rain."

  "Hello, Bancroft," Flora said breathlessly. "Is his lordship here?"

  "Yes, but I'm afraid he had a bit of an accident."

  "He did?" Anne asked, handing Bancroft her umbrella and unbuttoning her coat. "What sort of accident?"

  "Let me see if he's up to having visitors," the discreet butler replied. "Lady Braithwaite, may I take your coat?"

  "Yes, thank you. Is he all right?"

  "He is. May I show you into the front salon? I'll only be a moment."

  "So he's not seriously injured or anything?" Flora pressed anxiously as they followed him.

  "For the most part he's doing well," Bancroft repl
ied trying to be appropriately vague.

  The moment he'd left the room Anne stared at Flora shaking her head in astonishment.

  "That's extraordinary, how did you know?"

  "Honestly, Anne, I have no idea. It just hit me. Oh, dear, I do hope he's not badly hurt."

  "Has this ever happened to you before? Sensing something like this?"

  "Once, with George. He'd been hit by a cricket ball."

  "Really? That's amazing."

  "His lordship will see you now," Bancroft declared entering the room.

  They followed him down the short hallway, but as he opened the door to the drawing room, unable to stop herself, Flora rushed past him. The moment she saw Zane's scraped face and his hand holding the ice pack against his stomach, she let out a gasp and hurried to his side.

  "Zane! My goodness, what happened?"

  "Flora, what are you doing here?"

  "Believe it or not," Anne said as she approached, "she knew something had happened to you."

  "Is that true, Flora?"

  "I suppose."

  "There's no suppose about it," Anne said firmly. "She was so worried she insisted we come here before I take her home."

  "You poor thing," Flora said with a worried frown as she sat next to him. "Has the doctor been? What happened?"

  "Yes, I've seen a doctor. A nice old chap, Dr. Lawson was his name. Would you like some tea?"

  "Why are you avoiding my question? You must tell me."

  "I don't want to worry you, and I'll be fine. I am fine."

  "I'll be more worried if you don't explain how you were hurt like this."

  "May as well tell her," Anne said casually, sitting opposite them and pouring herself a cup of tea. "She won't give up until you do."

  "I won't," Flora said earnestly. "I won't leave until I know everything."

  "You are a very determined young woman. Very well, I'm sorry to say, it was the man in the black cape."

  "Oh no!"

  "I didn't even know he was there. He came up from behind and clobbered me on the head, then kicked me when I hit the ground."

  "What man is this?" Anne asked.

  "I'll fill you in on the way to my house," Flora said quickly. "What did the police say? Were they here?"