The Bachelor

by Sabrina Jeffries

  “I do,” Gwyn said, emotion clogging her throat.

  Thorn and Gwyn had learned long ago that the Duke of Thornstock had been the love of their mother’s life. Grey’s father had essentially bought their mother, and the marriage between the eventual Duke of Armitage and Mama had been one between friends.

  “Not that I didn’t enjoy my marriage to Sheridan and Heywood’s father,” Mama continued, “but it wasn’t the same. Anyway, that’s why the loss of our baby hit me so hard.”

  How had Gwyn never known about her mother’s miscarriage? The very idea of it gave her hope. “You mean, Thorn and I might have had an older brother or sister?”

  Her mother nodded sadly. “Your father and I were devastated when I lost the babe. And when your father died before you and Thorn were even born, I thought I would never recover.” She wiped away a tear, then broke into a smile. “But after your births, when I was still grieving the loss of your father, a good friend pointed out that I’d been given two children to make up for my having lost the one before, and I thought of it that way forever after.”

  “That was a very good friend, indeed.” She patted Mama’s hand, wondering how to frame her question without rousing her mother’s suspicions. “So . . . it’s possible to lose a child, but then have another one be born with no issues?”

  “Possible? It happens more often than that. I’ve had a few friends who miscarried two or three times and yet have had children born fine, too. Nothing is ever certain when you’re dealing with Mother Nature.”

  “Apparently not,” Gwyn said, fighting to keep her elation in check.

  All these years, she’d lived in fear. Granted, she might still be unable to have a child, but at least she now knew it was possible. And that was good enough for her. In such a case, she was willing to risk it.

  “So,” her mother said, “about this secret married friend of yours—”

  The door burst open and Thorn ran in, then rushed to Gwyn’s side. “Are you all right? Did that bastard hurt you?”

  “No,” she said, touched by his concern. “I’m fine. Joshua killed him.”

  Thorn ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe Malet broke in here. I never expected that.”

  “Nor did I.” She gazed at her mother. “Mama, would you mind terribly if Thorn and I had a moment alone?”

  “Of course not, my dear.” She squeezed Gwyn’s hand. “We’ll talk later.”

  The meaningful glance her mother gave her told Gwyn that eventually Mama would want to know everything. And perhaps it was time that Gwyn told her. Perhaps it was time Gwyn told Thorn the truth, too.

  As soon as Mama was through the door, Gwyn said, “Fortunately, Joshua was prepared for such a contingency. He handled everything brilliantly.”

  “And you thought you didn’t need a bodyguard.” Thorn crossed his arms over his chest. “I was right. Ha!”

  “Yes, you were,” Gwyn said. “About that anyway.” Thorn eyed her askance. “What are you saying?”

  “Ten years ago, when you paid Malet to leave Berlin without me, what prompted that action? Did he do something to convince you that it was necessary?”

  His gaze grew shuttered as he dropped onto the sofa next to her. “That was a long time ago, Liebchen. And aren’t you glad I intervened? He was obviously an arse.”

  “He was, yes. But I still want an answer to my question. What did Lionel do to alert you to his bad character? Or did you merely act as your usual arrogant self?”

  Thorn sighed. “A friend of mine warned me that his cousin had been seduced by Malet. He ruined her utterly, then refused to marry her. Unlike you, she had no dowry, so she was of no use to Malet except as a bed partner.” He fixed her with an intent look. “From what I understand, that sort of behavior is exactly what got him cashiered years later.”

  That wouldn’t surprise her. “So why didn’t you tell me of your reasoning? If you had laid out everything he’d done wrong, I might have listened and cut my ties to him. Instead, you assumed I was too stupid to recognize that your logic was sound.”

  Pure shock showed in Thorn’s face. “I never for one moment considered you stupid. How could you even think that?”

  “Because you acted without consulting me. And that implies that you didn’t trust me to be as rational and logical as you.”

  “You were in love. Even I know that no one is rational and logical about that. I expected you to behave like anyone else in that situation.” He released a frustrated breath. “And was what I did so very wrong, anyway? I was trying to protect you.”

  Now was her chance. She could tell him that Lionel had seduced her, that Thorn’s actions had resulted in her spending a few terrifying months afraid of being found out by a pregnancy Thorn hadn’t accounted for. That she’d spent years hating herself for letting Lionel have his way with her.

  Then again, all of that had already happened by the time Thorn paid Lionel off, so the result would have been the same. Or worse. She would have been ruined, and thus would have felt forced to marry Lionel. She might have lost the child either way. And Lionel would have looted her fortune and made her miserable.

  As for the blackmail, well, if not for that, she wouldn’t have gained Joshua, the real love of her life.

  So perhaps Mama was right. It was time to let bygones be bygones. Telling Thorn how she’d suffered would only pile guilt on his head. It certainly wouldn’t change the past.

  She smiled at her twin. “The only thing you did wrong was not trust me to weigh the evidence and decide for myself about Malet. But you’re right. I fancied myself in love. I might have ignored it all. So I forgive you.”

  Thorn gazed at her. “You do? Really? You truly forgive me?”

  “I do. I only wish it hadn’t taken me so long.”

  To her surprise, he grabbed her in an intense hug that nearly knocked the breath out of her. “I missed you,” he whispered in her ear. “You have no idea how much. You understand me better than anyone.”

  “I missed you, too,” she said and realized it was true. She pushed him back so she could cup his head in her hands. “But if you ever try to pay off a suitor of mine again, I will throttle you. I mean it.”

  He laughed as he took her hands in his. “I doubt that situation will ever come up again. Or are you dragging your feet about accepting the major?”

  She gaped at him. “How did you know about the major?”

  “Did I neglect to mention that he came to see me earlier this evening? He was spitting mad about my not revealing your previous history with Malet because, and I quote, ‘I could have handled my task better if I’d had that bit of crucial information.’”

  “That’s probably true. But that doesn’t explain how you knew that the major has asked me to marry him.”

  He rose from the sofa. “Remember, you said you forgive me.”

  She scowled at him as she rose, too. “Thorn, what did you do?”

  “I asked if I was going to have to buy him off, too.”

  “You didn’t!”

  Thorn’s face clouded over. “Why? Do you think he would have accepted?”

  “Of course not. I’m merely surprised he didn’t stuff your offer down your throat.”

  Breaking into a grin, Thorn walked toward the door. “He did say I was welcome to try, but that I wouldn’t like the outcome.” He opened the door. “Now come on, Sis. Let’s go see what has happened to your future husband.”

  “How do you know I said yes?” she asked as she walked toward him.

  “Because any sister of mine can see the man is a catch.”

  She sniffed. “I’m glad you recognize it.”

  “Don’t misunderstand me. I will insist upon a very stringent settlement.”

  “You can insist all you wish.” She smiled. “He says he doesn’t want my money.”

  That seemed to give Thorn pause. “None of it?”

  “None of it,” Joshua said from behind him, making Thorn jump. “Unless we have childr
en, and then it can be held for them.” Joshua looked past Thorn to where Gwyn was still smiling. “Come, dearling. There’s someone who’d like to meet you.”

  As she joined him, he murmured, “This will probably be the only time you’ll have dealings with Fitzgerald unless it’s socially, so ask whatever you need to know.”

  “He came that quickly?” she said as they approached the back parlor.

  “I mean, ask him, not me.”

  “I knew what you meant. I’m just . . . well, when you said you had a post, I didn’t realize—”

  “That it was so important? Neither did I. Then again, we did have a dead body in your family’s parlor. And yours is a very prominent family, whose late patriarch was a noted ambassador before becoming a duke.”

  Did have a dead body?

  They’d reached the parlor, where she was shocked to find that Lionel’s body had disappeared. There were spots of blood on the wallpaper, but the blood that had been on the floor and the console table had already been scrubbed away.

  “Mr. Fitzgerald,” Joshua said, “may I present my fiancée, Lady Gwyn Drake? Gwyn, this is Mr. Lucius Fitzgerald, undersecretary to the War Office.”

  Fiancée. What a lovely word.

  Mr. Fitzgerald bowed and took the hand she offered as they exchanged greetings.

  “I understand that congratulations are in order,” Mr. Fitzgerald said. “Have you chosen the date and place for your wedding?”

  She laughed. “Major Wolfe only just proposed and I only just accepted, so no. And do forgive us for calling you to the house so late in the evening.”

  “I’m used to it,” Mr. Fitzgerald said. “My position requires that I be available at odd hours.”

  Taking Joshua at his word about the questions, she asked, “And will that be true of my husband as well?”

  “I’m afraid so. Is that a problem?”

  “Of course not. I’m proud of whatever he does to serve his country.” She closed the parlor door. “I don’t suppose you can tell me what that will be.”

  “No,” Fitzgerald said. “Nor can he.”

  “I see. Then I cannot say he works for the War Office?”

  “No. He is merely a retired decorated officer who happens to also be the grandson of a duke and the husband of a duke’s daughter. Although there will be instances when neither of those will be his role.”

  “So he’s to be a spy,” she said.

  “I did not say that.”

  She heard Joshua softly chuckling beside her. When she glared at him, he said, “I believe you’ve met your match for keeping secrets and giving enigmatic answers.”

  “I already met my match for that. I’m about to marry him.” She turned to Fitzgerald. “Then tell me this, sir. Is it dangerous work?”

  “No more dangerous than going back to the war, which was your fiancé’s previous suggestion.”

  “That’s hardly a helpful answer,” she grumbled. “And what happened to Mr. Malet’s body? I have to tell my family something about your presence here.”

  When she caught a suspicious glint in Mr. Fitzgerald’s eye, she realized he was enjoying this, curse him.

  “Tell them that the War Office handles the inquests for any deaths involving our officers. Which happens to be true.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize that.” She flashed him a coy smile. “So I should not tell them that Mr. Malet had sold important government papers to the French and that you’re here to retrieve them?” When Mr. Fitzgerald’s gaze shot to Joshua in alarm, she added, “Mr. Malet was very chatty while holding me at knifepoint.”

  “Ah,” Mr. Fitzgerald said. “Now, Lady Gwyn, if you don’t mind, I should like to leave. I still have a few more matters to attend to involving Mr. Malet’s death.”

  “And his spying for the French.”

  Joshua bent to murmur, “You made your point, dearling. No need to rub it in.”

  Mr. Fitzgerald laughed. “I can see that you two will make a formidable couple. I’m glad you’re on our side.”

  When he left, Joshua closed the door and took her in his arms. “I believe you have made a conquest of Fitzgerald. Not that I’m surprised. Everywhere you go, men are smitten.”

  “You, sir, know exactly the right thing to say to a woman.”

  “I’ve had an excellent tutor in that regard.” He kissed her tenderly but briefly. “I suppose we cannot linger long in here with the door closed or your family will be up in arms. At the very least, we should go announce our engagement.”

  “Too late for that. I already told Mama, so I daresay the news has made it to the Times already.”

  He laughed. “And what else were you telling your mother while we were disposing of a body?”

  “I asked her about miscarriages. It turns out she had one before she bore me and Thorn. She says that it’s not unusual for a woman to have one occasionally and then have a perfectly healthy child.”

  He searched her face. “Dare I hope that means you’re willing to risk having a child with me?”

  “After fearing for your life—and mine—I am no longer afraid to risk anything.” She headed for the door. “Indeed, I was thinking that perhaps I could help you with your work.”

  “No,” he said firmly as he opened the door.

  “You could teach me to shoot—a pistol, I mean—and I could pick off your enemies from a distance.”

  “God, no.”

  “All right. I will settle for shooting them with arrows.”

  “There will be no shooting of any kind. Not for you anyway.”

  She pretended to pout. “You suck the fun out of everything, Major.”

  “Fortunately, my dear, you put the fun back in.” He gazed down at her with love in his eyes. “So we make the perfect couple.”

  “At last,” she said, pressing a fond kiss to his cheek, “something we both can agree upon.”

  Epilogue

  September 1809

  Joshua couldn’t figure out what he and his wife were doing outside some stranger’s town house. Gwyn had said she wanted to show him something, so he was glad to oblige, but before she’d brought him here he’d been half-afraid it might be a pistol-shooting match.

  He suspected that her twin had been teaching her to shoot, despite Joshua’s objections. Admittedly, those objections had become less strenuous the more he thought about how close Malet might have come to killing her five months before. And whenever he did voice an objection in front of her family and his, Beatrice pointed out that he was a hypocrite, because he’d taught her to shoot.

  But this was some seemingly random town house in Mayfair.

  Then it hit him. “Ah, you admire the architecture. This is to be another of those outings.”

  Gwyn planted her hands on her hips. “What do you mean, ‘another of those outings’?”

  “You know—where you take me somewhere in town so I can admire the ‘bones’ of the building, as you put it. Although I confess that this one looks like all the others in this vicinity, just a touch more grand.”

  “Do you like it?” Gwyn asked slyly.

  “We’ve been through this before, dearling. You know I can’t tell a double-hung sash window from a single-hung one. I can look at a ship and instantly tell you what rate it is, how many guns it carries, and what poundage they are, but I daresay that’s not useful to you.”

  “Not particularly. But I still want to know how you like the looks of this house. Speaking generally.”

  “It’s attractive enough, I suppose. Why? What are we admiring on it this time?”

  “Everything,” she said enigmatically.

  She walked up the front steps and knocked boldly on the entrance door.

  “Gwyn!” he hissed. “What are you doing?”

  “I know the owner,” she said and gestured for him to follow her.

  He climbed the steps with his cane in hand. “All right, but I can tell you that looking at the architecture on the inside is just as dull for me as looking at it on the
outside.”

  Joshua was only halfway up when the door opened, and a gentleman ushered her inside, then waited for Joshua to follow.

  “This way, Major,” the man said.

  They were expected, apparently. How else did the fellow know his rank? But when Joshua crossed the threshold, it was not to enter some stranger’s house. The place was empty—no furniture, no paintings, no vases . . . nothing.

  “What do you think?” Gwyn asked again.

  He caught the gentleman who’d let them inside watching him expectantly.

  Enough. Joshua was going to get to the bottom of this right now. “Would you please excuse me and my wife?” he told the gentleman.

  The man bowed and headed up the rather impressive staircase.

  “All right, Gwyn. What is this about?”

  She swallowed hard. “We-e-ell, I know you said that you didn’t want my dowry—that I could save it for our children, and that if we didn’t have any, I could spend it as I liked. But I was thinking that this would be a fine way to invest the money for their future. And . . . that is . . .”

  “And what?” he demanded.

  “It would also be a good place to live.”

  It took him a minute to comprehend what she was trying to tell him. “You bought it for us to live in?”

  “Not yet,” she said hastily. “Good Lord, I wouldn’t buy a house without consulting you. I’m not as daft as all that. But you haven’t been comfortable at Armitage House ever since you found out that it was one of the servants there who provided Malet with his information about our jaunts.”

  “I should have shot the servant, too,” he groused, “especially because the damned fellow was also the one to let Malet in through the kitchen the night the bastard nearly killed you.”

  “It’s a good thing you didn’t shoot the servant. I daresay Fitzy wouldn’t have approved of that. Or conveniently carried off the body for you.”

  Joshua eyed her sternly, though he was struggling hard not to laugh. “One day, you are going to call my employer ‘Fitzy’ in his hearing and lose me my post.”