A Secret Deal With The Devilish Baron (Historical Regency)

by Lucy Langton

  “You must love her very much,” Beatrice observed quietly.

  “Hmmm,” Isabel hummed.

  “It is quite easy to see how much you care for each other. Seeing you two together, I can tell how closely knitted you are.”

  Isabelle thought back to the story she had shared with Beatrice, and she wondered if the young lady was trying to mean something.

  “Oh, indeed, we spent many days apart, as we grew. Nevertheless, the close bond we share kept our hearts strewn together, always.”

  “I suppose that was why she did not hesitate to come charging in here like a madwoman demanding that I returned all that I had supposedly stolen from you, at whatever cost.”

  Isabelle shifted uncontrollably in her seat as William’s words filled her ears. Surely, he would not mention the part about offering her body? She never wanted George to find out. Her brother would never forgive himself.

  “There could have been no other reason. She loves me too much. As she upholds family values with all her might. I did not know of her intention. You can imagine the fear in my heart as I returned home and learned of what she had done. I was away at the time, you see. I would never have let her come, otherwise. Yet, despite my fear, I was not shocked. It was what Isabel would do.”

  Isabel looked up at her brother as she heard the tenderness in his voice. Holding her gaze, he continued, “Isabel… stubborn and independent. Witty and humorous. Defiant. Unafraid of anyone or anything. For a long time, she has made me proud, as well as envious.”

  “Envious?” Everyone asked in unison.

  “Aye,” George continued. “Though not in the manner one might think. I was an indoor person who preferred arts and crafts to playing in the fields. Many times, I longed to be free of the cage I had put myself in. Alas, I could not be who I was not.”

  Isabel smiled, her heart heavy with warmth. She reached across the table, took George’s hands, and squeezed.

  “That was exactly my first impression of her,” William put in. “Fearless indeed. I could not fathom how a lady of her status would come barging into a man’s home without a care in the world. It was something I mulled over for some time. She was witty in her questions and had a way with words that could leave one helpless.”

  Despite her better judgement, Isabel made the mistake of looking at him. The fierce attraction she saw in those eyes almost weakened her in the knees. Dear Lord, but this man was growing more potent to her desires by the day.

  “I was foolish, thinking to drown my sorrows with the cards and the wine. I was even more foolish to think I could have bested you at a game of cards, My Lord. If not for Isabel, I would have lost everything. If I had simply handled my grief like the man Father brought me up to be, all of this would have been avoided. You wouldn’t be here, Isabel.”

  “And neither would my sister. I mean here, at this moment, with us. Everything happens for a reason, would you not reckon? I do not think I could have found a better companion for Beatrice.”

  “And… believe it or not, brother, it is quite lovely here. What is past is past. You do not need to badger yourself over the matter. In a short while, I shall be back home to you.”

  “Father would be livid…”

  “No, Father would have understood, and when he sees the man you’re being shaped into, he would be proud.”

  “What were they like, your parents?” It was Beatrice who asked.

  Isabel and George shared an uncomfortable look. They had not discussed their parents since the incident, but perhaps, now was a good time. They had already begun, after all.

  “Oh, Father was the veritable man of the house. He was just and fair in his ways, but his word was law. There were times when he appeared cold, strict. Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that he loved and cared for us, in his own way.”

  “Yes, he did, George. He did.”

  “He hoarded me, intent on shaping me into a better man.”

  “And you two grew all the closer for it. Moreover, I got to spend fanciful time with Mother. And she loved us both very much. She would always think of you when we were able, everything she could gift, she picked for you.”

  “Books. And paintings. She knew how passionate I was about my hobbies.”

  “She was lovely and beautiful, filled with so much kindness. I do not think I ever saw her angry.”

  “Never. It is Father’s temper you took, Isabel. As well as his red hair. Fiery as the lioness.”

  She laughed at that, oddly enjoying the conversation. “And you took after Mother’s gentleness. You could not hurt a fly, even if you tried. Sounds like fair trade to me.”

  “Aye. That it does.”

  They finished then, and Isabel realised that a sudden weight had been lifted off her chest. She felt lighter, happier. The twinkle in George’s eyes told her he felt the same. They should have had this talk sooner.

  “They sound like they were wonderful people.”

  George and Isabel nodded in unison. “They were.”

  Dinner ended then, and as the maids cleared the plates, the ladies rose up to retire for the night. The men, on the other hand, offered to visit William’s study for a little chit-chat.

  Chapter 13

  As the men settled in the study, William summoned the butler and had him bring the finest brandy. He was impressed when Montgomery declined, insisting he would have some of the fruit wine from dinner if there were any left.

  Just as impressed as he had been by the man’s mannerisms, his obvious love for his sister, and his accountability for his actions. It would appear that the young man was more responsible than William had supposed.

  “Pray, how do you see those soldiers who visited the tavern the other day?” he asked, starting the conversation as he poured from his glass.

  “I liked Mr. Wiggle’s guts, though I hate it when warlords feel the only way to make peace is by intimidating the weak,” the young lad responded.

  “I do not care for him,” Lord William declared unapologetically. He never loved what he hated. To him, it was a mark of pretentiousness. He prided himself in stating things as they were. No sugar coating.

  George filled his glass with his wine and placed it gently on the table. Calmly, he said, “Ah… and no one can blame you. It has more to do with his person than his duty.”

  “Precisely. Being a member of the King’s army, a man of status at all, tends to get to men’s heads these days. Their thinking is affected, and they are left incapable of reason.” He filled his glass and brought it to his mouth, his temper sour.

  “Hmmm. You speak sense, My Lord. I too believe the society is now filled with lawlessness. No one respects the law. Look at how the night marauders go about dispossessing people of their property and rendering them helpless. I thought this was the soldier’s duty? Why do they parade with firearms and weapons of choice if they will not discharge their duties according to their pledges to government?”

  Hmmm. It would appear the sound mind ran in the family. Montgomery was intelligent as well.

  “The government has grown weak. They no longer care about the people, so we take laws into their hands, myself included. How many times have I had to fight these so-called noblemen to protect the weak? How can a knight, after a night of eating and drinking, not deem it necessary to clear his debts? Instead, he takes to fighting and harassment?”

  There was a moment’s silence as they reflected upon these ills. Then, wanting to leave the foulness behind, William spoke, “Let’s not dabble deeply in these matters. They are quite appalling and down-casting. I see you no longer drink wine?”

  The young man looked longingly at the cup William held. It seemed to take great control to look away. Shaking his head, he responded, “No. I’m being careful not to get inebriated by these intoxicating liquids. They may have their good, howbeit, one needs be careful not to overindulge. After the incident that night, I have decided to stay off altogether. I fear I may not be able to caution myself once I begin. If I must keep m
y wits about, then it is a small price to pay.”

  Williams raised his glass in a toast. “I do not think I would ever say goodbye to the wine, but I respect your choice, and most of all, I respect your reasons. Here is to doing right by our women.”

  Montgomery joined in the toast, and afterwards, they continued to speak on other matters concerning business ventures and investments, until they both decided to call it a night.

  ***

  George walked into the guest-chamber that had been prepared for him. He was proud that he had been able to resist the lure of wine, but even more glad that he had made this trip. From what he had seen so far, his sister was in good hands. He never knew that the Baron was as kind and thoughtful as he had come to see. Not that he had not had good reasons to be concerned – he had. Having witnessed the Baron maim a man on several occasions, he knew how brutal he could be. George could not recollect ever hearing anything good about him. However, his entire mindset about him was altered that night.

  He was going to give Aunt Mariam the feedback about his sister’s welfare. Aunt Mariam was so particular about Isabel’s safety. She had done nothing but fret with worry, thinking up many ridiculous things. That Isabel would be defiled against her wishes, threatened to keep quiet… now, he could tell her that that was not the matter. That the Baron was kind when it came to women, noble enough.

  Aunt Mariam would like that. She would finally rest easy, and perhaps, come to despise the Baron a little less.

  With this thought on his mind, he changed into his nightdress. The last thing he thought of as the waves of sleep carried him away, was Aunt Mariam’s pretty scarf.

  Chapter 14

  The night gradually peeled off, exposing the beauty and glamour of the morning. The morning breeze hit the trees, causing them to dance in merriment, their leaves smiling and clapping in unison.

  Isabel was the first to get up. She opened the windows, and fresh air came rushing in. The flimsy nightdress she had slept in swayed to the seduction of the wind, flowing over her skin in a sweet whisper.

  Drawn to the window, she held on to the sill and lifted her face to the heavens, mindless of the fact that anyone could see her from below. And oh, what a sight she would make.

  She was a masterpiece of nature, indeed, and she knew how to carry herself gracefully. She had always been the envy of the maidens in her community. Her beauty was second to none, and so many lads and gentlemen had extended their hands of love towards her. No man had ever come across her without making passes at her. That had started even before she had gotten ripe for marriage. Now, they came in droves, and she could see the seriousness in their eyes, as well as their speeches.

  Nevertheless, there had always been something missing. She never found love in the eyes of the suitors. Even though her mother had told her that love grew, that with time, she would start to enjoy her marriage, Isabel had never been able to come to terms with that. That had been the bone of contention between her mother and herself. It had almost caused a rift; thankfully, they had got past it.

  “Does it mean you never loved Father?” she had asked one fateful day, leaning over her mother’s shoulder.

  “Of course, I did,” her mother had responded, lovingly.

  “So why do you reckon mine will be any different?” she had countered.

  “I have never thought, nor said so, Isabel. I’m only concerned about your inability to choose among the numerous suitors you have. I wish you would, already.” Her voice had been patient, calm.

  “But I am young still.”

  “And you won’t remain so, much longer. I loved your father, Isabel, but not from the beginning. I had to grow to love him.”

  “So, you would have me do the same?”

  “Sit down; I pray you.” Her mother’s patience had begun to wane then. “Isabel, you love the flowers so much, do you not?’

  “Of course I do.” She remembered wondering what the flowers had to do with any of this.

  “When do you love them the most?”

  “In spring, of course. In full blossoms, when they bloom lush and beautiful.”

  “And what do you do to them, then?”

  “I tend them, patiently, lovingly.”

  “Yet, come autumn, they wither, do they not?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “And what do you do then?”

  She had begun to grow weary, but she answered still.

  “I sweep off the withered flowers, care for the ones that endure, and wait for spring to roll by again.”

  Her mother had smiled then. “Isabel, a woman is just like a flower. A delicate one. In her prime, as she blooms in spring, she is loved and wanted by many. Howbeit, that time passes, and autumn comes. She withers, and everyone sweeps her away, in search of new buds to cherish, in anticipation of spring.”

  It had finally become clear to her at that moment. “And a man? Does he ever wither?”

  Her mother had found that amusing and had given in to a small chuckle.

  “No, my love. That is not the way society works. It favours the men. As long as a man holds status and wealth, he shall ever be in his prime and be free to do as he pleases.”

  Isabel was no naiveté; she had always known that the world favoured men. So, she had simply smiled, letting all of it go.

  “May I think about what we’ve discussed, Mother?”

  “You have all the time to do so, my daughter,” her mother had replied, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I think it’s high time you slept. You may go to bed. Rest easy, dear child. The angels guide you.”

  “And you as well.” She had gone to bed that night, wishing that the world was a better place, that society allowed women to live as freely as men.

  That discussion had happened only two weeks before her parents’ demise. Isabel had never gotten the chance to give her mother a response before the cold hands of death snatched her away. Her only consolation was that they had parted on good terms.

  She wondered if she would have been able to tell her mother about a man such as the Baron. How her mother would have felt. Appalled, no less. Isabel could see her widened eyes and her dropped jaw. She could hear an instant rebuke.

  It almost made her smile… a sad one.

  She could no longer deny the fact that her heart beat for the Baron. It did not help that she knew he felt the same way. Oh… but she was not here for some romantic involvement with the lord of the manor. No, she had come here to help sweet Beatrice recover from her ailment and save her family from poverty.

  She sighed, leaning against the side of the window. Just then, a bird flew past, catching her eyes. Another perched on the guava tree close to the window. It was a nightingale, beautiful to behold, and odd to see in the daytime.

  Her attention was soon drawn by the sound of the workers filling the fields. Remembering that she was still improperly dressed, she tore herself from the window and decided to begin her day.

  Just as she reached for her wardrobe, the dark-haired, fearsome-looking man crossed her mind again.

  Ahhh… Alas, focusing on her purpose here was going to be harder than she reckoned.

  ***

  William paced his room as soon as he got up from the bed. He clasped his palms and placed them close to his mouth as if in a praying position. He removed them and exhaled forcefully. He wondered if Isabel was chaste for a chaste girl would never freely offer her body to a man. That was not his major concern, though.