They laughed, plotted, and disagreed on some of the finer points of their strategy, but they were united in the effort—two warriors hunting a prize. At the end of an hour, Lord Ransley stood up and clapped a hand on Valen’s good shoulder in a wordless gesture. The approval and pride in his expression spoke eloquently enough.
An unfamiliar tightness gathered in Valen’s throat. He tried to clear it away, but it wouldn’t go. He faltered. In an effort to say something, he blundered into an inane comment one might make in passing. “You are looking well, father.”
His father’s chest swelled and Valen caught the glimmer of water in Ransley’s eyes. “Yes. For the first time in decades, I am truly happy.”
Valen understood. All those years without my mother, his bride. And then, scorned by his foolish son.
His father nodded.
As Lord Ransley walked away, Valen clamped his jaw tight, restraining the unmanly emotions that threatened to undo him. How could I have been so blind?
24
Cutting to the Heart of the Matter
“Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,
And men below, and saints above;
For love is heaven, and heaven is love.”
Sir Walter Scott, The Lay of the Last Minstrel, 1805
At long last, Robert arrived. Valen thought he would go mad waiting. He sat up in bed while Elizabeth read to him, a melancholy canto written by Sir Walter Scott. It claimed to be a tale about a dying soldier, but there were numerous references to love in the verses. At these junctures, she was wont to pause and sigh pointedly until it was all he could do to keep from grabbing the blasted book and heaving it across the room. So when Robert strode in, Valen felt as if the sun had finally come out, even though the skies outside his window still boded rain.
“What the devil took you so long?” After endless days of a confinement, this was the cheeriest greeting Valen could muster.
“Delighted to see you in such fine spirits, St. Evert.” Robert clasped Valen’s hand, gave it a jarring shake, and then turned to greet his sister. “Has he been a great nuisance?”
“Exceedingly great.” She marked the book and shut it. “I will leave you gentlemen. You must have many private matters you wish to discuss.” She was not usually so eager to escape him.
“Wait, Elizabeth. This concerns you as well.”
“But, I thought...?”
His father entered carrying a long slender wooden case, set it on the desk, and opened it. A pair of foils nested in red velvet.
Robert hefted one of the blades, checking the weight and balance. “Excellent.” He swished it out to his side nearly striking the bedpost. “Superb balance. Where did you get them?”
“Italy. You may of course, select your weapon.”
Izzie whipped to attention like a beagle catching a scent. “What are you saying?”
Valen attempted to shrug, disregarding his bandaged shoulder. “Merely that your brother must challenge me.”
Robert stopped testing the rapier. “Must I?”
“Afraid so. No choice in the matter.”
Elizabeth’s voice went up an octave. “On what grounds?”
He looked squarely at Robert. “I compromised her.”
Izzie’s mouth fell open and then snapped shut. “You did not.” She turned to her brother and clutched his arm. “It isn’t true, Robert. He didn’t.”
Robert patted her hand patiently. “I would think he would know, my dear.” He glanced over her head at Valen for confirmation. “Did you?”
“I did, on several occasions, take advantage and kiss her warmly.” He stated the facts as if they were in court.
Robert’s eyebrows rose. “Warmly?”
“Warmly.” Valen nodded. “Naturally, I offered for her.”
“Right.” Robert’s posture relaxed. “Well, then, the matter is settled.”
“No.” Valen pursed his lips. “Unfortunately, she won’t have me.”
“Izzie? You rejected his suit?” He frowned at his sister.
She slapped her hands to her side and huffed up her shoulders. “He brought no suit.”
“I did,” Valen answered evenly. “She said no.”
“Well, then.” Robert took up his stance and poised his sword. “It must be done.”
Valen climbed out of bed and took up the other sword.
Izzie held up both hands, warding off her brother. “Are you mad? This is nonsense. He was wounded protecting me.”
“Your honor is at stake, Izzie. It’s my duty.” Robert checked his feet and shook the sword to see how much play there was in the blade. “Unless you’ve reconsidered?”
Hands on hips.
The marmot is vexed.
Valen gestured with his blade at her stance. “You see. She won’t have me. Not plump enough in the pocket for her.”
“This is absurd. He did not compromise me.”
“I have witnesses. Father?”
Lord Ransley nodded gravely. “Saw it with my own eyes.”
“Through a telescope, you mean.” She crossed her arms and sulked in his father’s direction.
Valen almost broke his concentration and smiled.
“Robert you can’t—” At last, Izzie was pleading.
Robert stuck to their plan and ignored her. “Are you ready, St. Evert?
“Yes. If you will do me the service of wounding the same side. Wouldn’t want both arms out of service, unless, of course, you feel you must take more drastic measures.”
Robert moved his sword to the ready. “Don’t know. How warm did you get?”
Izzie stepped between them and held up her hands to each of them. “No! You will stop this at once.”
“A matter of honor.” Valen nudged her aside with his hand and the guard of his sword. “Stand aside, marmot.”
“I will not. Robert, listen to me. It was one small kiss. Not nearly warm enough to merit a scratch.”
Valen let his blade fall to the floor. “You crush me to the core, my lady. Your kisses certainly warmed me.” He raised his sword again. “Heated me to near the boiling. Quite warm, I should say.”
“Izzie!” her brother scolded.
“Well I...” She had the good grace to blush.
“And on several occasions,” he added with enthusiasm.
“Several occasions.” Robert snorted angrily. “If this is true, Izzie, why the devil won’t you marry him?”
Valen answered for her. “As I said—my lack of funds.”
“It’s that ridiculous plan of yours, is it?” Robert cradled his sword in his arms and frowned at her. “Still fancying yourself as Joan of Arc out to save the family?” He shook his head. “Would you really do it, Izzie? Choose that milquetoast Horton over St. Evert?”
* * *
Elizabeth looked from Valen to her brother. Both had riveted their attention on her, intently awaiting her answer. Indeed, neither took a breath. And suddenly she comprehended their scheme.
She whipped to Lord Ransley, astounded. “Were you part of this conspiracy, as well?”
Lord Ransley coughed and conveniently turned his head.
She inhaled deeply. “Well, it may interest all of you to know that I came to a decision several days ago.”
Their collective countenances were a gratifying assortment of shock and amazement.
The Red Hawk quickly recovered from his disadvantage, his eyes sharp and assessing. “And what, precisely, did you decide?”
He had no right to know, not after confronting her so meanly and trying to trick her into confessing her love for him.
Elizabeth stamped her foot and fought to control her emotions, which meant of course elevating her chin. “A simple ‘I love you, Lady Elizabeth, will you marry me?’ would have sealed the bargain.”
“You can’t mean it!” Valen plopped down on the edge of the bed and pointed to his father. “You heard her.” He turned back to Elizabeth, baffled. “That day, when I explained to my father about how you ref
used me, you failed to express even the slightest regret—”
“That?” Elizabeth couldn’t believe her ears. “That was supposed to win a profession of love out of me?”
“Well.” He hesitated, groping for words. “I was testing the waters. You didn’t seem very receptive to the idea.” He slumped and winced because of it, straightening his back again to relieve the pain.
Valen got up, set his sword in its case, and took Elizabeth’s shoulders in his hands. “So am I given to understand you’ve had a change of heart?”
She nodded and smiled at him. “Almost since the moment we left the garden. Indeed, I could not escape my regret through this whole ordeal.”
He answered with a broad grin and bent to kiss her.
Robert’s sword came between them. “Here now. I would hate to have to call you out again.”
Lady Alameda stood in the doorway. “Well, well, so our wily marmot has stopped bearing her claws and making a muddle of it, has she?”
Elizabeth was too happy to be completely annoyed, but she had to draw the line. “I do wish everyone would stop calling me that. I am convinced there is no such creature. A mythical invention—”
“Oh dear. What ith happening? Robert, deareth, why do you have your thword drawn?”
Elizabeth groaned and teetered on the brink of demanding to know what the devil Miss Dunworthy was doing here, when Lady Alameda answered the question.
“Only look, Valen, dearest, I have brought you some visitors. They were waiting downstairs until you and Robert concluded your business. Naturally, I thought you would be anxious to see Miss Dimworthy and her brother.”
“Dunworthy,” Elizabeth murmured.
Lady Alameda tilted her head, as if considering the correction. “Oh yes, so she has. Done quite worthy, I should say.”
Robert set down his rapier and went to greet the paragon whose noodle-like curls were artfully arranged inside an adorable straw lace capote. “Lord Ransley, Lady Alameda, Lord St. Evert, Elizabeth, allow me to present my betrothed, Miss—
“Your what?” Elizabeth’s hand went to her mouth to stifle the rest of her outcry.
Robert beamed proudly. “Miss Susannah Dunworthy has agreed to be my wife.”
“She hasn’t.” Elizabeth’s hands fell to her side, and if Valen hadn’t guided her to the edge of the bed so she might be seated, she might have collapsed to the floor. Luckily Elizabeth was not the swooning type.
“She has, indeed.” Robert patted his beloved’s shoulders. “I warned her that I have nothing to offer her. Yet still, she would not say nay.” He and Miss Devious gazed into each other’s eyes, and Elizabeth felt slightly queasy.
Miss Dunworthy smiled at all of them. “Indeed, my father was in thuch high alt over dear Robert’th devothion to me that he offered to pay all of his debts in addithion to my dowry. Dear papa, he thinks only of my happineth.”
Her brother, young Mr. Dunworthy, didn’t appear quite so convinced of this statement. While assessing the condition of his fingernails, he muttered, “Daresay the promise of a title didn’t influence him at all.”
Miss Dunworthy ignored her brother and rushed out of Robert’s embrace to take Elizabeth’s hands in her tiny little gloved palms. “Thay you are happy for uth, Lady Elithabeth.” She smiled so hesitantly, as if she sincerely desired Elizabeth’s approval and feared she might not win it, that Elizabeth was on point of opening her arms to the girl. But the little minx added, “I’m thertain we will become the deareth of friends, you and I. We have tho muth in common dethpite our great age differenthe.”
Lady Alameda clapped her hands together. “Isn’t she adorable.”
Some less than adorable descriptions rumbled around Elizabeth’s ferocious marmot brain. Haughty rejoinders like; take your tentacles off my brother you spiteful little mushroom, and, we shall be friends when the devil takes up crocheting.
Fortunately, Valen, who must have read her mind, nudged her sharply in the ribs.
Elizabeth inhaled deeply and managed a smile. “I wish you both all the happiness in the world.” And for Robert’s sake, she meant every word. Elizabeth glanced at her twin, suddenly worried he had sacrificed himself as she had planned to do with Lord Horton. But an unfathomable glow of affection for his betrothed set Elizabeth’s mind at ease. He truly admires the girl. She smiled at her brother.
He announced, “We will have the banns read for the first time next Sunday. We hope to marry in a fortnight or two.”
“Lovely.” Lady Alameda pronounced and motioned toward the door. “I’m certain we have wearied Lord St. Evert. He must have his rest to recuperate. Let us retire to the great hall for some celebratory refreshments, tea cakes and champagne?”
No one seemed to notice that Elizabeth stayed behind. Lord Ransley was the last one to leave. “Bless you, my children.” He took a joyful backward look, nodded at them, and shuffled off down the hall.
The room fell awkwardly silent. Valen reached for her hand. “Why did you not tell me?”
“What?” she chuckled. “And miss out on that astonishing performance?”
“You might have spared me the embarrassment.”
“I have been giving you hints all week.”
“Those long heavy sighs?” A low rumble in his throat warned her of his skepticism. “I took those to mean any number of indecipherable sentiments. In future, kindly use an alphabet I might comprehend. If I had known a simple statement would have resolved the matter—”
“Clearly you preferred a more complicated solution.”
“You realize, of course, that I do.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “You have a very complex mind.”
“No.” He grinned quirking up his devilish dimples. “I do love you.”
“Oh.”
“So much so, I—” Valen glanced down at her fingers, toying with them. “When I thought I was dying, I could not bear the thought of never holding your hand again, never touching you. I regretted that I might never see the face of our son. Or…” He looked at her with such yearning Elizabeth’s soul flew without hesitation off the roof and melted quite happily into his.
“Elizabeth, marry me. I want you beside me when I wake up, and when I lie down—
Mythical creatures or not, marmots aren’t a particularly patient species. Elizabeth lunged at Valen and answered him with a flurry of scandalously warm kisses.
A Note From The Author
Dear Reader,
Scarlet O'Hara has always intrigued me, and I had great fun reading the Scarlet Pimpernel. So, I wondered what would happen if those two character types were thrust into their own story, thus Cut from the Same Cloth was born. As always, my work takes a bow to the incomparable Georgette Heyer, and also to the mother of romantic comedy, Jane Austen. I hope you have had as much fun reading Izzie and Valen’s story as I did writing it.
But what happened to . . . ?
I received numerous letters from readers asking what happened to Izzie’s father and older brother. Some readers inquired after the frail health of Lord Ransley. Other readers wanted to know how Robert and the title-hungry Miss Dunworthy fared after marriage. In response, I’ve written a short follow-up for those of you who would like to know what happened after the story ended.
An Afterword for Cut from the Same Cloth is available on my website click here or visit my Bookclub page. There you’ll find interesting tidbits about the Regency era, as well as in Kathleen’s blog.
KathleenBaldwin.com
Medical practices in the Regency era were a fascinating blend of burgeoning science and gruesome archaic practices. The use of leeches in Valen’s procedure is historically accurate. During the Napoleonic wars, both French and British surgeons attempted to stop bleeding and cure disease by bloodletting and applying leeches.
Conditions were dreadful for those wounded in battle. There were no nurses until the Crimean war. Wounded soldiers depended on, not medics, but the regiment musicians to pick them up and carry them off the
field. Sometimes a regiment hired local peasants with carts to haul wounded soldiers to the doctor’s tent.
For more about medical practices during the Regency era, and, if you have the stomach for it, a look at some of their actual surgical equipment, visit Historical Extras on Kathleen’s website.
* * *
If you enjoyed reading this book, please lend your copy to a friend or recommend it to your readers’ group, and write a review!
Reviews help other readers discover your favorite books and helps to keep your favorite authors writing more books. If you write a review for this book please let Kathleen know. She would like to thank you personally.
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Other Books By Kathleen Baldwin
My Notorious Aunt:
A Humorous Regency series
Lady Fiasco
Mistaken Kiss
Cut from the Same Cloth
The Terrible Sisters (coming this fall)
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An Exciting new Alternate History from TorTeen/Macmillan
(A Spy School for Young Ladies amidst Jane Austen’s High Society)
A School for Unusual Girls
Exile for Dreamers
Refuge for Masterminds
Harbor for the Nightingale
Sanctuary for Seers (coming next Summer)
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A light-hearted Regency Novella
The Highwayman Came Waltzing
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Contemporary Teen Fantasy
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