A Little Bit Wild

by Victoria Dahl

  "I can't! " Tess wailed. Marissa really couldn't understand her adamance. What did she have to lose? Was she being threatened? But what could be held over the head of lady's maid?

  "This is useless," Aidan muttered.

  Edward agreed. "She's using information gleaned during her employment to blackmail you, Marissa. The constable will surely be interested in that. Perhaps she'll change her mind once she's been carted off. I'll send for him now. Jude?"

  Marissa watched Tess, expecting her to waver at the thought of arrest, but the girl stared steadily at her lap, resigned to her fate. Marissa held up a hand to stop the men, then knelt down in front of her. "If you won't speak, then I'll have to go visit your family. Perhaps they know where you've been employed."

  Tess's head flew up, eyes wide with panic.

  "They're in Hull, are they not?"

  She shook her head, face blanching.

  "Yes, they're in Hull. I remember you went there to visit your mother last Easter. You must have written to let them know your new direction, because we haven't received any letters for you. That was one of the reasons Mother insisted you must be fine."

  Tess stared, bug-eyed, at Marissa for a long time; then she looked to each of the men, as if one of them might save her. Apparently, she didn't find a friendly face, because her eyes filled with more tears. "If I tell you, she won't pay me. It's the only reason I did it, I swear. One hundred pounds ... I still have four sisters at home. Even if I spend a year in jail, that money would ..."

  "It's too late now," Edward said softly. 'Just tell the truth."

  Silence swelled in the room until it became a relentless buzzing in Marissa's ears. The clock on Edward's desk licked, and she wondered how she'd never noticed the sound before. Likely, her family was never this quiet.

  Finally, Tess spoke. "At first, she paid me twenty pounds just to come work for her. Twenty pounds!"

  "That's why you left?"

  "I sent it all to my mum, I swear. It's not that I'm greedy."

  Marissa nodded as if she understood.

  "I should've known the woman was up to no good, but I thought maybe she'd admired your hair and such... ."

  "Who?" Jude demanded.

  Tess swallowed hard. "It was Mrs. Charles LeMont."

  No one so much as breathed. The clock ticked even louder.

  Tess seemed to relax, as if she knew her part was done.

  "Mrs. LeMont?" Edward said. "That's ridiculous."

  "She's pregnant," Aidan added.

  Marissa shot them both a scornful glare as she rose to her feet. "And what has that to do with anything?"

  Edward looked dumbfounded. "She's .so nice."

  "And," Jude added, "apparently jealous?"

  Tess nodded. "Yes. She hates Miss York." The look she gave Marissa past her lashes was weighted. The maid was well aware that Charles and Marissa had been in love years before. Marissa had spoken of it, and the betrayal of that trust felt like a weight pressing on her chest.

  "I don't understand. Surely he didn't say anything to his wife?" Marissa breathed.

  "She told me nothing about it. Only that she wanted to know as much of you as I'd tell. I didn't say much, but she asked if you had any birthmarks, any features worth noting. I did not truly understand... and then, I only had to retrieve a

  bag tonight, and she said she'd reward me with a hundred pounds. I didn't mean anything by it, miss."

  Whether she had or not, the damage was done. But at least they knew who was threatening them. "If she hates me so much, what is the chance that she will leave this be?"

  She addressed the room at large, but no one answered. Edward glanced toward the clock. "I'd say this is best left till morning. It's nearly midnight already, and the LeMont estate is nearly three hours away. We'll leave at first light."

  "And the girl?" Jude asked.

  They all stared at Tess as she began to weep again.

  Edward finally sighed. "I suppose we shall lock her in a room tonight and send her on to Hull in the morning. You're going home, Tess, so I hope that twenty pounds will count you settled for a time."

  "Of course," she whispered.

  Aidan wrapped a hand around her arm and lifted her up. "Third floor, I assume?"

  Tess gave Marissa one last pitiful look before being led away. Marissa felt a twinge of pity for the girl who'd been her maid for four years, but Tess had known full well that she was being asked to do something wrong. No one paid a hundred pounds for charitable works.

  "Why don't you try to get some sleep, Marissa?" Edward said. "We'll see what can be done tomorrow. If Mrs. LeMont is reasonable ..."

  Marissa didn't know the woman well enough to guess. She'd met her a dozen times over, but even before the marriage to Charles, there'd been nothing like friendship between them. She'd been a serious young woman who'd always seemed more comfortable with the married ladies. Marissa had run with the younger girls. And the gentlemen, of course. She couldn't fathom how Charles's wife had come to hate her.

  She looked up from her thoughts to see that Jude had resumed his place at the window, and the rigid posture of his back screamed of a desire for solitude. Despite that, she considered going to him, to ask if they might speak in private. But what could she say? I'm sorry I thought you ugly. I'm sorry I liked you and wanted you and still thought there couldn't he more between us.

  What if that only hurt him more?

  Better to wait until tomorrow, when this drama was resolved. Better to know where they stood before she decided if she should take a step toward him or simply let him walk away.

  So she left Jude staring out at the lonely night and went to find her own loneliness in her chambers. She only wished she knew if Jude was thinking of her as he stared out at the dark, or if he was praying for the chance to leave this mad place and never return.

  Jude's muscles felt like tightening rope beneath his skin as he stared out at the black night. What had Marissa meant by that small touch? What had it meant when she'd clung so tightly to him?

  Nothing, he told his injured heart. Nothing more than any other touch had meant. And there was so much more to worry over, but Jude couldn't seem to turn his mind to the problem at hand.

  Edward sighed loudly, prompting Jude to face the room again. The man sat slumped at his desk, head in hands, the very picture of a troubled gentle man. When he raised his head, his weary gaze completed the portrait. "I'd best go check with Aidan," he grumbled. "Our servants' quarters are hardly equipped to hold prisoners."

  He stood and set his shoulders deliberately back, as if to resettle the weight upon them. "I'll see you in the morning."

  Jude raised a hand. "Good night."

  He was turning back toward the window when Edward's voice drifted in from the corridor. "Harry," he said, "I'll be back in a few minutes to fill you in."

  "But..." Harry wandered into the room, his face tight with confusion. "What in the world has happened? Did the girl confess?"

  "She did." Jude poured Harry a drink and approached him with a carefully neutral expression. "The girl was Marissa's lady's maid, hired away by Mrs. Charles Lemont."

  "Mrs. Lemont?" Harry sputtered. "But that makes no sense. The blackmail ..."

  "She was out to ruin Marissa's reputation because of Charles Lemont's previous affection."

  "My God," Harry breathed. "All that because of young love?" Everything on his face sang of surprise, but Jude still felt uneasy. Harry was a born actor, after all.

  Jude's neck prickled. His instincts had never failed him before. He raised one eyebrow. "Quite a feat for a gently bred woman to carry off on her own."

  "Indeed." Harry's eyes didn't even twitch.

  "Do you think she might've had help? Someone to arrange contact with the maid? Someone to help her plot?"

  "I suppose it's possible." His forehead crinkled with thought. "One of the guests, do you mean?"

  Jude cocked his head. "I was thinking someone closer still."

  Harry's p
uzzlement held for a few more heartbeats, then his eyes widened as he met Jude's gaze. Blood rushed to his cheeks in a violent flush. "I say, sir! You are not accusing me in this, I hope!"

  "Perhaps accuse is too strong a word."

  "How dare you! I am her cousin. A member of this family! If anyone is set to benefit from this outrage, it's you."

  A fair enough point, actually, but Jude was sure of himself, at least. "Ah," he said, "but I am not the one who's hiding something from this family, Harry. You are."

  Jude felt a hard surge of satisfaction at the panic that flared in Harry's eyes. Without a doubt, Marissa's cousin was hiding something. Something important, it seemed.

  "I d-don't ..." he stammered. "I most certainly am not."

  "Indeed you are. I can see it clearly on your face, not to mention there's the little scene I witnessed in the stable yard. Something involving that package you entrusted to the groom ..."

  Harry's face went so white that Jude felt a moment of sympathy. "You... you didn't. . . ?"

  "Why don't you tell me the truth, Harry, else I'll feel it my responsibility to mention what I saw to Edward."

  "It's nothing to do with this," Harry breathed. "I swear on my honor as a gentleman."

  "The same honor that allows you to live beneath your cousin's roof and lie to his face? Tell me what you did. Perhaps you didn't even realize you were helping Mrs. Lemont."

  "It's nothing like that! You must believe me."

  Jude wanted to believe him, for Marissa's sake, if nothing else. "What is it then?" he asked quietly.

  Harry shook his head. "Edward mustn't know. I owe him so much, and I've taken every precaution to protect the York name, I swear to you. It's only that I felt so unimportant. A useless extension of the family tree. For a time, I cared for Aidan. I was needed. But then ..."

  Jude felt more confused than ever. "What is it, man?"

  "'Twas boredom, I suppose. I thought no one would know."

  Jude wrapped his hand around Harry's arm to draw his attention. "What did you do?"

  Harry's gaze met his, eyes wide with shock as if his own confession was a surprise. "I wrote a book," he murmured.

  Jude shook his head. "You what?"

  "I wrote a book. I never expected... but it was accepted by a publisher, and he wanted another. So I wrote a second hook, and then a third."

  Jude dropped his arm. "A book? What type of book?"

  Harry's flush was back. He grimaced. "Nothing edifying, I'm afraid. But I took great care to keep my identity a secret. I worry though. I never expected they'd be so popular. Still, the money goes to an account in my solicitor's name. No one will ever connect William Wicket to the York family, I swear. I'd rather die than bring dishonor on my cousins."

  "William Wicket," Jude murmured. "Why does that sound familiar?"

  "If I'd known they'd be so widely read ..."

  And then Jude realized. "The book," he said. "The book I read with Marissa!"

  "Oh, God," Harry groaned. "Please don't tell the family. After everything they've done for me ..."

  The dark worry burning in Jude's stomach disappeared in an instant. His scowl turned to a laugh. "You write love stories?"

  "Shh!" Harry shot a terrified look toward the door.

  "That's not so awful. I quite enjoyed the story. What are you worried about?"

  "The gossip. The tittering. The scandalized measuring of every line of every book ... It would awful."

  Jude considered it a moment. "I suppose you're right. It would create a sensation."

  "That's putting it mildly. Listen, I just sent off the last manuscript. I won't write any more, I promise. I feel disloyal asking you to lie to my family, but would you see lit If I keep this to yourself?"

  Jude shrugged. "I don't see why not. You're not hurting anyone. Aside from the tender minds of young Englishwomen, I suppose."

  Harry swiped a shaking hand over his forehead. "I can't thank you enough."

  "It's nothing. I apologize for my suspicions."

  Harry shook off the apology and drained the glass of brandy Jude had handed him earlier. "Consider it forgotten," he rasped.

  Jude was happy to oblige him. There'd be other worries to face in the morning, and the trip to the Lemont estate seemed the least of them.

  Chapter 21

  Jude rode through the early morning fog, ignoring the looks of the men traveling on either side of him. The mist bit into the exposed skin of his face, turning his cheeks to ice, but Jude didn't mind the cold. It matched his mood and helpfully froze his scowl into permanent place.

  Aidan cleared his throat, but Jude continued to ignore him. They were nearly to the LeMont estate, if he could only keep their curiosity at bay for a short while longer.

  "I say, Jude," Edward ventured, "are you in love with our sister?"

  Jude, disturbed by the directness of the question, lowered his chin and urged his horse to a quicker pace.

  The York brothers kept up, and Aidan pulled slightly ahead so he could look back and catch Jude's gaze. "Jude, are you in love with her?"

  "Christ, what business is it of yours?"

  "She's our sister."

  "She's my fiancée! You've already given your approval for our marriage, and that is where your involvement should end."

  Aidan glared as if Jude had done something wrong. "Falling in love with a woman is a far cry from simply marrying her. We both know full well that there are plenty of couples who live separate lives. But a husband in love ... that can be the start of endless troubles."

  "This is a ridiculous conversation," Jude answered. "You've no idea what you're talking about."

  "Yet you haven't denied anything."

  "And," Edward added, "You've been decidedly foul-tempered for days. Scowling and snapping, yet when Marissa appears you become cool and silent."

  Jude chose to remain cool and silent at that point, but Aidan wouldn't allow it.

  "You're in love with her," he barked. "Admit it!"

  "I'll do no such thing. You two are fools."

  Aidan slowed his mount and let it draw even with Jude's again. He stared straight ahead and said quietly, "She doesn't love you, Jude. This can't end well. You're from two different worlds."

  The sympathy in his voice didn't improve Jude's mood at all. Two different worlds. As if he hadn't lived half his life in a duke's household. He clutched the reins too tightly, and the horse shied and bumped Aidan's. Jude murmured something soothing and patted the horse's neck.

  A good while later, Edward cleared his throat. "I want to thank you, Jude. Your suspicions were spot on. II you hadn't been here, Aidan and I would have blamed Peter White without exception."

  "Once again, my base beginnings prove useful."

  Edward cleared his throat again, but couldn't seem to think what to say. Jude wished he could pull the petty words back and swallow them as easily as he'd so often swallowed his pride.

  In the end, both he and the horse were saved by the landscape. They topped a small hillock, the drive of their destination came into view, and all three men pulled to a stop to stare down on it.

  All uncomfortable visit awaited.

  'Jude," Aidan tried again, but Jude held up a hand.

  "Whether this story with Marissa ends well or not," he finally said, "I don't doubt there will at least be a moral in it. That's all I mean to say."

  Aidan snorted and slapped him on the back, and the horses started down the hill in response.

  "So... what if Charles LeMont is here?" Jude asked.

  Edward set his jaw. "Then I suppose he will hear an unwelcome truth."

  "She'll deny it."

  "Of course."

  When they readied the doors, Edward instructed the boy to walk their mounts. They didn't anticipate a long visit. Still, they found themselves pacing the morning room for a good half hour. The mistress was still dressing, the maid explained, seeming nervous in their presence. Jude supposed they must look forbidding, at best. He certainly
felt as if he were attending a hanging.

  Edward was right. Mrs. LeMont would deny it, and none of them were relishing the prospect of browbeating a woman. The maid had been a trying experience. What to do with a gentlewoman with a child in her belly? If she feigned illness, they had no defense against that. He had a sneaking suspicion this ambush would end with all three men gathered around the fainting couch, fanning their enemy and offering strong tea.

  His stomach burned at the thought, and it wasn't alleviated by the sight of the smiling Mrs. LeMont breezing into the room. She rested one elegant hand on her rounded belly. "Gentlemen! What a pleasure to see you again so soon."

  She was, as Aidan had said, a handsome woman. Dignified and glowing with good health. But as Jude moved closer, he saw that the flawlessness of her skin was enhanced by powder that did only a passable job of hiding the circles beneath her eyes. And though she smiled in happy welcome, her eyes glittered a bit too brightly. She was nervous, and no wonder. The maid had disappeared, and now there were wolves in her morning room. But he could understand that the York brothers had not been able to see past her belly. It was a distraction, and a sympathetic one.

  "My husband is off this morning to oversee the clearing of a field, so I'm embarrassed to say you've missed him once again! You did find him last night though, right? Yes, of course, you did. I remember now."

  "We did," Edward said.

  "Has your horse not improved, then?"

  "Mrs. LeMont..." Edward's voice was too serious to mistake it for anything less than somber, but her smile did not so much as fade at the edges. If Jude hadn't known the truth already, he would have suspected her involvement now. Edward cleared his throat. "We are not here about the horse."

  "No?" That simple word rose at the end like a bird taking flight. "Oh, forgive my rudeness, gentlemen. Let us all have a seat. Let me pour you a cup of tea."

  Tea had been delivered upon their arrival, but the cups sat empty and untouched, and even after she waved them to the gathering of chairs, she did not reach for the pot.

  "Mrs. LeMont," Edward tried again, "We have spoken to Tess."