Earl of Bergen: Wicked Regency Romace (Wicked Earls' Club Book 15)

by Anna St. Claire

  “Are we ready to begin?”

  “Yes, Vicar.” Bergen took an uneasy look around, hoping they could finish the pageant without any trouble from the two travellers.

  The older man extended his arm to Aunt Faith and ushered her into the church and to a front pew.

  “Perhaps you will be comfortable here, my lady, while everyone takes up their positions and we can begin.”

  Josiah appeared. “I put Clarence in the stable until his part, Lizzie. I used the stall next to the vicar’s pony.”

  “Good boy.” Bergen was swift to praise, before turning to his aunt. “Aunt Faith, this will take a little while. Are you quite sure you would not rather go back to the inn and rest until we have finished?”

  “Away with you!” She playfully swatted her nephew. “I am very interested in the theatrical talents of the vicar and have not seen a Christmas pageant in some time. I have certainly not seen one with real animals.”

  Beaming, the vicar nodded appreciatively towards Aunt Faith and then offered his arm to Aunt Jane.

  “May I seat you, Lady Jane?”

  “You certainly may, but I think I would see the play better from that side of the church.” Aunt Jane pointed towards a pew.

  “Pish. Please do take yourself, and whichever creature is clinging to your head, away from where I am sitting. I have been traumatized enough already this morning,” Aunt Faith added peevishly.

  Aunt Jane halted, jerking the vicar to an abrupt stop. “On second thought, Vicar, I think I should perhaps volunteer myself to ensure no further drama comes from this quarter to compete with your beautiful play.” She turned him back towards the pew Aunt Faith occupied.

  “Well, I never!” Lady Bergen blustered.

  “Aha! I knew it!” Aunt Jane retorted.

  “Aunt Faith, Aunt Jane—ladies, please…” Bergen interrupted. “We can all at least be civil for the time we are here.” Exasperated, he looked beseechingly towards the two ladies, who now stood facing each other with arms folded against their bodies. “This is important to Lady Newton, the children, and the congregation.”

  “You are correct, nephew.” Recovering, his aunt coyly slipped her hand on the vicar’s arm. “Vicar, I believe I would like to sit a little further back. I think it could be cooler nearer the door.”

  “Yes, please do remove yourself to the back.” Then, muttering barely above her breath, Aunt Jane continued, “The air here will be fresher without that dead animal you are wearing.”

  Bergen suppressed a groan. It must be obvious to all that the entertainment would not be limited to the front of the church.

  Shefford tapped him on the shoulder. “I hate to leave, but I will slip out now, visit the magistrate and bring him back with me.”

  “Thank you. Part of me wishes very much to go with you.” He nodded and sighing loudly, moved up the aisle to speak quietly to his aunt. One would describe the inside of the church as small, cosy. Long pews made of dark walnut flanked each side of the centre aisle, with more narrow passages running between the wall and the pews. Tall, colourful stained glass dominated both side walls of the church, each depicting prominent scenes of the Bible on each side, allowing light to filter through. The ceiling was painted with angels and clouds, depicting what Bergen imagined Heaven to look like. Had Bergen not been worried about the possibility of trouble, he might have relaxed and felt more at peace.

  Elizabeth was relieved and yet also frightened that the day of the pageant was finally here. She had dreaded it at first and now she did not want it to end. Ending meant that Bergen would be forced to make a decision, and she feared that it would mean he would return home and vanish from their lives.

  The members of the congregation were beginning to take their places. The events had moved indoors due to the weather. People came in from the country for such special occasions, and they were beginning to notice their distinguished visitor. Elizabeth saw the looks and whispers as she watched from the side as people were obviously trying to discover whom Lady Bergen was. Lord Shefford had not returned with the magistrate, and Lord Bergen was still hidden until the pageant began. The children were brimming with excitement as they put on their costumes, including false beards which Jane had managed to procure from London. Hannah had sewn the costumes for everyone, including one for Lord Bergen, which no doubt the maid had enjoyed more than she should have. Elizabeth laughed as she tied the rope around her waist to secure the pillow beneath, remembering what had happened the last time, when Lord Bergen had …helped her. Would there be another such opportunity? She should have prepared the children for the fact that he would probably be leaving them soon. Other gentlemen, such as uncles, came briefly into their lives; would they cope as well when he left? Elizabeth knew she would not. Bergen was different—magical—and he made her feel things she had not known existed. She should have guarded her heart.

  “It is a little too late for that,” she said bitterly to herself.

  “Too late for what?” Bergen asked. As he spoke, he put a hand on her back in a shockingly informal way. Her wretched heart betrayed her by beating faster.

  “Nothing of any import, sir. I was merely thinking about something I should have brought from home,” she prevaricated.

  “You look beautiful,” he said looking down at her.

  “In these rags?” She laughed.

  “I think they are fetching,” he said as he twirled her around.

  Before she thought better of it, she reached up and stroked the beard he had grown over the few days he had been there, in preparation for the pageant.

  She jerked her hand back and he caught it. “I should not…”

  “Please do not apologize, Lizzie. You may touch me whenever and wherever you like.”

  She looked away. His flirtations reminded her of why he had stayed. Now she had acknowledged her heart was involved, she must call a halt before it was too late.

  “Lord Bergen, I fear there is a matter we need to discuss.”

  “‘Lord Bergen’? That sounds ominous. I feel as though I have been called before my father and am about to receive twenty lashes.”

  “I doubt this will hurt as much.”

  He frowned.

  “I cannot say how it is you have so easily wormed your way into all of our affections, but I am afraid I must ask you to leave as soon as possible after the pageant.”

  “I beg your pardon? You wish me to leave?”

  “I think it would be for the best.”

  “Best for whom? Was I so mistaken? Are you playing with my affections?”

  “How could you ask that? I am not a loose woman to have random affairs whenever it pleases me! I have children to think of!”

  He turned and walked to the window. “Even if you think I would toy with you, which might have been a fair assumption before, I would never do that to a child,” he defended. “Why do you think my aunt and friend dropped everything and hurried down here? They knew you were different. Something in my notes to them indicated my feelings for you were more than a dalliance. I cannot explain it myself.” He turned back to her and spread his hands out. “Have I made a complete fool of myself?”

  Tears began to roll down Elizabeth’s cheeks and she wiped them away furiously. “It has all happened so fast. I do not understand myself. It does not seem real.”

  “Do you care for me, Lizzie?” he asked as he drew her close and looked into her eyes.

  “Yes, despite myself, I care very much.”

  He kissed her and then they heard music start in the background.

  “We will finish this discussion later. I assure you I am not toying with you. Do you have the amulet?”

  Elizabeth nodded and pulled the blue stone from her pocket and handed it to him.

  “Ask me anything.”

  Elizabeth’s first thought was mischievous, and she smiled.

  “Perhaps that question should wait until later,” he said as if reading her thoughts.

  “Perhaps,” she agreed.
“Very well. What are your intentions towards me and the children?”

  “I want to be with you and them,” he answered without hesitation. Bergen took her hand and tucked the small blue stone in the centre and closed her fingers over it. “I care for you and your family, Lizzie.”

  The door opened and the vicar yelled, “Take your places, everyone!”

  Elizabeth had forgotten about the pageant and the children for a moment. The two girls were standing ready with their shepherd’s hooks and their gifts to give the baby Jesus, but she did not see Josiah.

  “Where is your brother?” she asked Marie.

  “He went to fetch Clarenthe.”

  “Ah, yes.” She relaxed. “Do you remember your lines?”

  “We prethent the gifth of gold, myrh, and frankenthenth to our new born king.”

  “Very good.” She bent over and kissed each girl on the cheek as they went to stand in their places. Bergen led Elizabeth outside to the front of the church so they would not be seen until they made their entrance.

  “Why isn’t Josiah here with Clarence?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Perhaps I should go and see. He should be here by now,” Bergen agreed with concern.

  Elizabeth stood there shivering in the cold despite her layers. She began to imagine any number of horrid things happening with the gypsies, knowing they thought Josiah had the amulet. “That necklace has been nothing but a curse!” she exclaimed angrily.

  The vicar opened the front door. “We are ready to begin,” he whispered and then looked around. “Where is Lord Bergen? And the donkey?”

  “Josiah was supposed to be bringing Clarence to us and he has not come. Lord Bergen went to look for them.”

  “Oh dear, oh dear,” the old man rubbed his hand over his wrinkled brow. “What should we do?”

  “There is nothing to do until Lord Bergen returns. Why do you not have the children sing Christmas carols?”

  “An excellent idea! Signal when they arrive.” He hurried back inside.

  “Stop imagining the worst,” Elizabeth said to herself as she thought of what the gypsies could have done with her son. He could have been beaten and left for dead, he could have been kidnapped, or worse yet—he could actually be dead.

  Elizabeth heard the music begin inside and began to shiver in the freezing cold as snow began to fall. Any other time she would have been excited to see the flakes and a white Christmas. Instead, it only made her fear more for Josiah.

  Bergen finally returned, and Elizabeth could tell by the look on his face that something was wrong. “What is it? What has happened?”

  “Josiah is missing.”

  “Oh, no! No, please, no!” she cried into his arms.

  “We must be quick in this cold and keep a straight head. You tell everyone inside and organize the men to search. I will go ready the horses.” He hurried off with a reassuring kiss on the cheek, and she faced the door.

  “Yes, keep a straight head,” she commanded herself as she opened it. The crowd turned to face her as she walked into the nave. “Excuse me,” Elizabeth shouted over the music and the singing and piano trailed off. “I hate to ruin the pageant, but Josiah has gone missing. Anyone who is able and willing to help search, please meet at the stables as quickly as possible. I fear we have little time in this cold.”

  This announcement was followed by dull murmurs as the men began to pour outside.

  “What has happened, dear?” Aunt Jane asked as her and Lady Bergen rushed to her.

  “I wish I knew, Aunt. Bergen thinks it is the gypsies. Can you please take Marie and Ruthie home? I will follow as soon as we find him.”

  “Of course, my dear.”

  Elizabeth ran to the stables, and Lord Shefford had arrived with the magistrate. Teams were being organized to search each area, and they were hoping the snow would be useful for tracking Josiah and his kidnappers.

  Elizabeth looked around trying to think where her son could be, and she noticed the donkey was also gone. “Bergen, where is Clarence?”

  Chapter 8

  Bergen felt sure that Josiah had been taken, and he felt no small measure of guilt for not going after Clarence himself. He should never have allowed the boy to leave the safety of the church. He heard the congregation leave the church and turned to glimpse the activity. Small groups of men hurriedly made preparations—many grabbing canes, large sticks and other impromptu weapons with the clear intention of arming themselves. The grim faces revealed that all were thinking to overtake the kidnappers.

  Elizabeth stood near the horses and held her two girls close. She embraced and kissed each girl on the head, and then, taking them by the hand, scurried quickly towards the coach.

  “I will help you, Jane.” Lady Bergen stood, quickly adjusted her skirts and grabbed her cane from the side of the pew. The two women followed Elizabeth and her two girls to the coach waiting outside.

  “Aunt Faith, would you please take Aunt Jane and the girls to the house while we look for Josiah?” Bergen nodded in the direction of his aunt’s coach.

  “Certainly!” His Aunt Faith reached down and tentatively patted each child on the head.

  Bergen nodded again and helped his aunt into her coach. Shefford handed Elizabeth’s Aunt Jane into the coach, helped the children up the step and then closed the door. Bergen spoke to the driver. As he did so, within the carriage, he could hear the two ladies talking. Curious, he cautiously peered into the coach window.

  “Faith, I would appreciate your help. I am afraid I am not as young as I once was.” Jane held out her hand. There was a moment of silence before his aunt responded.

  “Thank you.” His aunt took Jane’s hand. “I suppose we should set aside our differences for each other.”

  “Yes. We should fix our attentions on that sweet little boy.” Jane responded.

  Aunt Faith sniffed, nodding. She reached into her reticule and pulling out an embroidered handkerchief, dabbed a small tear from the corner of her eye. This done, she reached down and squeezed Jane’s hand, again.

  Jane opened and closed her mouth, and then nodded. “I will sheath my claws for a while. We should worry about getting the girls home safely and making sure they do not fret over their brother’s return.”

  “My nephew will find him,” Faith asserted.

  “I hope so,” Jane murmured. After a slight pause, she asked, “Do you hear those loud snorts coming from behind the coach?” Without giving Faith a chance to respond, Jane pulled down the window and ignoring the blast of cold air, stuck her head out of the aperture. She soon spotted the source of the commotion. “Look! Clarence is following us. He appears to be intent on something. Strange though it is to say it, that little donkey seems to have taken a liking to our Josiah.”

  “I am unfamiliar with the area, but is he going in the direction of your house?” Lady Bergen pointed ahead as the little donkey charged in front of her coach.

  Jane looked hard at the donkey galloping ahead of them. “Why, yes, he does appear to be going that way.” She put her head out of the window again and called to the driver, “Let us go home, James!” She turned to Faith and hid her brimming mirth behind her hand. “I have always wanted to do that.” She giggled, drawing an undignified snort from her former nemesis.

  “I was so glad to see the magistrate and Shefford arrive. The men must have had an inkling that something was amiss.” Lady Faith Bergen clasped her hands together. “I am confident they will find him.”

  The coach rushed along the road at what Jane considered a headlong pace, its driver clearly trying his best to keep up with the small donkey while at the same time not throwing them all into a ditch, courtesy of the settling snow.

  Bergen watched the cloud of snow rise behind the coach. He wondered what had spurred his aunt to order her coach to fly so fast. Thankfully, her coachman seemed to have it under control. He turned to his lady. His lady. That had a pleasurable sound to it.

  “How are you feeling, dearest?”

 
“I confess that I am at sixes and sevens. We must find him.” Elizabeth sniffed. “I think some of the travellers have returned. I have seen signs that indicate several people have been camping behind the inn. Let us start there.” Bergen checked the security of the saddle, tugging on the straps for tightness, conscious that he would have an additional passenger.

  “We cannot waste a moment.” Elizabeth wiped away a tear and put her right foot into his interlocked hands. “My poor boy. He could be hurt by those men.”

  Bergen lifted her onto his horse and swung up behind her, holding her close. Pulling Merry’s reins, he leaned forward and smelled Elizabeth’s hair. It smelled delightfully of lemon. Suddenly, he realized he wanted to bury his face in her luxuriant tresses. Reprimanding himself, with difficulty, he turned his attention back to the kidnapping.

  “Lizzie, Josiah is a quick-thinking lad. I think he will do whatever he can to lead us to where they are keeping him, so keep a watch for any signs, anything odd or peculiar.” She nodded and the two of them remained quiet for several minutes. Clearing his throat, Bergen broached another issue which was troubling him. “I realize this is not the best time to mention it, Lizzie, but when we find Josiah and matters have settled again, we must talk further about what has happened between the two of us and, indeed, the question you asked of me earlier.”

  “Thomas, I am afraid of inflicting further pain upon my children. They have already had too many disappointments in their short lives. I do not mean to disparage your aunt, but as she indicated quite categorically, she was disgusted by my children’s parentage. That is exactly what they will face in Society. I have tried to shelter them from the ravages of the ton and I will not allow a brief liaison with you, no matter how satisfying it might be to me, to cause them further pain or confusion. I have to think of my children.” She sniffled quietly into a handkerchief and looked away.

  Fifteen minutes or so later, they found themselves on an empty field behind the inn. Trees and the stubble of brush haphazardly filled the area, and tall shrubs surrounded the edges. A cold campfire and a beat-up tin up indicated someone—Bergen supposed it to have been the men from the troupe—had recently camped there but had already left. The state of the campfire site made it appear it had been several days.