Barbara Pierce (38 page)

“An affection that will get him castrated if he persists.” Fayne called out to the coachman to drive them to the Brawleys’ town house.

Lady Quennell had been married to Lord Ordish? “Priddy?” Kilby asked, needing the woman to deny it.

The viscountess cringed as the earl moved around the low table that was thwarting him from his prey. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Kilby’s dazed regard at his sinuous movements. “Forgive me, dear girl, for deliberately misleading you on the extent of my injuries. While I did fall from my horse last season, I must confess, I have fully recovered.”

Keeping the pistol aimed in their general direction, the earl backed up until he reached the door and turned the key in the lock. He slipped the key into the inner pocket of his blue waistcoat.

Kilby watched him as he strolled unhurriedly to Priddy’s side. “Why did you lie?” She had been so gullible, her initial impression of the gentleman so flawed.

“I needed to avert any suspicion that might be cast my way,” Lord Ordish explained, lowering the end of the barrel and pressing the cold metal against the viscountess’s jugular. “I really owe you a debt of gratitude, Kilby. Until you
charmingly introduced yourself to me, I had no idea what had become of my dear wife.” The viscountess whimpered, turning her head to avoid the barrel painfully prodding her throat. “The Church had readily approved my separation from an adulteress. How could they not? It took influential friends in the House of Lords, and a veritable fortune in discreet bribes to buy me the divorce I deserved by Act of Parliament. Afterward, sweet faithless Pridwyn vanished. I should have guessed the unrepentant whore had spread her thighs for another fool and enticed him into marrying her.”

“You had no idea your—uh—Priddy had married Lord Quennell?” Kilby convulsively swallowed. She was sickened that she had inadvertently revealed the viscountess’s whereabouts to her former husband.

She silently willed her friend to look at her.

Not once did you ever mention that you had been married to a lunatic. Pray forgive me for leading him straight to you,
Kilby thought as their frightened gazes met.

“Lord Ordish and I have not encountered each other in almost twenty years.” Priddy’s voice quivered, her eyes shifting from the pistol at her throat to Kilby. “It came rather as a surprise when my butler announced him. I—I had heard years ago that he had forsaken his homeland and was traveling abroad.”

“The rumors you heard were correct,” he said, his breath hot against the side of the other woman’s face. Priddy shrank lower into the chair. “I have traveled rather extensively over the years. Is that why you thought it safe to reemerge into polite society? You believed me out of the country?”

“Or dead,” the viscountess said, some of her former spirit strengthening her voice. “You cared little about polite society. Twenty years ago, neither one of us were important in the eyes of the
ton
. You had yet to inherit the earldom when we parted ways.”

“Very true. Like you, I have always preferred the countryside to town life. When I returned to England two years ago and encountered Lord and Lady Nipping, I should have guessed you had not strayed very far from your baseborn whelp.” Lord Ordish concentrated his fierce, loathing gaze on Kilby.

Suddenly, the confusing jumbled pieces of the past fit together for Kilby. Taken aback, she stared at Priddy in stunned silence. None of this was true. Where was Fayne? Why had he not come for her?

Lord Ordish made a soft sympathetic sound. “Dear me, you mean you still have not guessed? Lady Quennell is your mother.”

“Kilby is gone?”

Fayne had not really posed it as a question. He just could not comprehend Kilby’s audacity to ignore his simple instructions. Nor could he beat down the terror he was feeling that she was out there alone and unprotected. Brawley was upstairs comforting Fayre and Gypsy. Hobbs, the traitorous servant who had secured a carriage for Her Grace, was in hiding from Fayne’s wrath. He had wanted to take the man apart piece by piece after he had learned that Kilby had left the house unescorted. He, Everod, Cadd, and Darknell had just arrived at the Brawley town house ten minutes earlier. They had found Ramscar sitting on the stairs with his ax at his side. He had Kilby’s note in his hand.

Her note had been brief. It read:

Your Grace,

 

Sitting here in your sister’s house awaiting your return, I have discovered I am not a patient woman. If you consider this a serious flaw in my character, then I predict we shall
be facing many difficulties in our new marriage. Regardless, I cannot sit idle when Priddy pleads for my assistance. Fayne, please understand. The viscountess is part of my family. If all is well, I shall return forthwith and promptly burn this letter. That way, you will never know what a rebellious creature your lady wife is.

Forever yours,
Kilby

P.S. I pray you will refrain from berating Hobbs too harshly for his part in my escape. He is an exemplary servant and was merely following my orders.

Fayne rudely snorted as he read the last line. Hobbs? An exemplary servant? The butler was surly and disobedient to his betters. The more likely explanation was that Kilby had bewitched the ornery man into doing her bidding.

His duchess possessed a spirited nature that reminded him of a vibrant, inexhaustible flame. He had been drawn to her glowing warmth from their first meeting. Fayne did not want to quell her adventurous spirit. Nonetheless, they were going to have to reach an amiable compromise for both their sakes.

His heart stopped beating as he realized something. “She never returned to burn the note.”

Fayne handed the note to Darknell. “Kilby thought she could respond to Lady Quennell’s summons and return before anyone realized she had left the house. Hobbs told Brawley and my sister that Kilby was lying down. No one would have checked on her for hours. Only Ram’s arrival prompted my sister to check on her.”

Fayne watched as the viscount read the note and passed it on so Everod and Cadd could also read it.

“How long has she been gone?” Cadd asked, handing the note back to Fayne.

Too long.
He glanced at Ramscar. “I was never meant to see this note. Whatever the reasons for the viscountess’s summons, Kilby never intended to remain there for long. Knowing my stubborn wife, she just wanted assurance that her dear friend was fine.”

“Something delayed her,” Darknell said, his face harsh with concern.

Or someone.

Ramscar grabbed the banister and stood, the ax in his hand dangling at his side. “I’ll summon Brawley. We will need more weapons.”

Priddy was her mother.

Kilby stared at the woman who had been her mother’s dearest friend, trying to see something of herself in her. She did not look like the older woman. Where was the connection a mother and daughter had? The one she had with her real mother, Ermina Fitchwolf, Lady Nipping? Lady Quennell’s light blue eyes gleamed with bright, unshed tears as the viscountess mutely pleaded with Kilby. For what? Understanding? Forgiveness? In that instant, Kilby was so overwhelmed she barely felt anything at all.

“I never truly cared about your fate,” Lord Ordish said, bringing her attention back to the man who captivated them with his righteous fury and his very lethal pistol. “Whether you lived or died was not my concern. I only thought of punishing my wife. She was not going to keep her lover’s child. Minutes after the midwife had pulled you from your mother’s womb I took you, and left the house. With Pridwyn’s screams ringing in my ears, I rode to Ealkin. Your father had just married his marchioness, and I thought it rather poetic that I present his bastard daughter to him with his bride at his side.”

“Why did you bother, my lord?” Kilby asked, numbly thinking how her birth had negatively impacted so many
people’s lives. “Since I was newly born, you could have exposed me to the elements. No one would have known.”

Lord Ordish chuckled. “I had considered it. You were nothing but a mewling abomination. Tangible proof of my lady’s betrayal. I could have snapped your flimsy neck and ended my torment.”

A wordless sound of denial escaped the viscountess’s lips. The earl silenced her by grasping her hair and ruthlessly tugging her head back. “If I had given in to the impulse, Pridwyn’s grief would have been too brief. My pride demanded vengeance, and Lord Nipping was surprisingly helpful.”

“You are lying,” she said, staunchly defending her father’s memory. “My father was a decent man. He would have never helped you hurt anyone.”

“Oh, but he did. Lord Nipping granted me the revenge I craved by keeping you. Each day you lived was a day my adulterous Pridwyn was denied a mother’s love.” He jerked Priddy’s head back so he could look into her terrified gaze. “Is that not so, my lady? Did you grieve for your bastard daughter?”

“Every day, my lord, for more than nineteen years,” she brokenly sobbed. “Taking my child hurt me more severely than any blow ever delivered from your fist.”

“And yet you thought you had thwarted me, did you not?” Lord Ordish painfully wrenched her head back, a small reminder of his authority. “Despite my efforts, you figured out a way to be part of your child’s life, after all. What did you do? Blackmail your lover? Or was it your plan all along to continue the affair once his wife accepted his bastard as her own?”

“Why should I tell you?” she shouted at him. “You will twist anything I say into something vile.” He released her hair, disgusted that he had touched her. Priddy sniffed and
sobbed into her handkerchief. “What you speak of occurred almost twenty years ago. No one recalls our connection, my lord, and you have had your revenge. Lord and Lady Nipping are dead, and with them any proof of the true circumstances of Kilby’s birth.”

“Not quite,” Lord Ordish said crisply. “It is your fault, you know. If you had left matters alone, this all would have ended when I killed Lord and Lady Nipping.”

It appeared that Kilby had been correct all along to worry about Lady Quennell, Fayne thought as he stealthily crept up to Nipping from behind. When no one had answered the front door, he and his companions had decided to search the perimeter of the house. Ramscar spotted the marquess clinging to the iron railing on the upper balcony. His neck was craned as he tried to glimpse through one of the drawing room windows.

Nipping was so distracted that he never sensed the men approaching him. Fayne grabbed the man’s leg and unbalanced him from his precarious perch. The marquess hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from him. “I have been looking for you, Nipping,” Fayne said, standing over him.

The marquess expelled a hoarse yelp of fear as Fayne ruthlessly seized the man by his frock coat and dragged him away from the house. He did not want to frighten the women. Besides, he thought he and his new brother-in-law deserved to get acquainted without Kilby’s interference.

“We need to talk,” Fayne said, once he was satisfied no one within the house could hear them. The other men circled around them.

If Nipping intended to cry out, he thought better of it. Cadd stroked the keen edge of the battle-ax against the man’s soft belly, while Darknell and Ramscar aimed loaded pistols at his head. “What d-do you w-want from me?”

“I vote we just kill him and toss his body in the Thames.” Everod sneered. Knowing his friend well, Fayne thought the viscount was probably serious.

“It’s over, Nipping. I know what kind of sick game you were playing with your sisters.” The man’s neck was in his hands. Fayne could throttle Nipping just as he tried to hurt Kilby. No one would try to stop him.

“Arrogant bastard!” Nervous laughter burst from Nipping. “Over? Nothing is over.”

Ice settled in Fayne’s stomach. “Have you hurt Kilby?” His arm pressed into Nipping’s throat. “If you have I—”

“I haven’t touched her,” he blurted out. His face was pink from Fayne’s constricting arm, and the bruises from his previous beating were prominent hues of deep purple. “I doubt you will get the same assurances from the armed gentleman inside with your wife.”

“You murdered my parents!” Kilby screamed. She jumped off the sofa, intending to attack the man who had caused her family so much pain.

Lord Ordish pushed the rising viscountess down into her chair as he aimed the pistol at Kilby’s heart. “Sit! I will shoot you.” He gestured at Priddy. “Now or later, it makes no difference to me. As a matter of fact, the notion of Pridwyn sitting here helplessly as the red blood pumps fiercely out of your shattered chest is beginning to appeal to me. Do not force me to end our revealing little chat so abruptly.”

“Please, Kilby, think of your husband,” the viscountess begged, her beautiful face ravished by her tears. “Sit down.”

Kilby slowly slid back down onto the sofa. “My parents drowned while yachting,” she said crossly, daring him to refute the facts. Something the earl had mentioned earlier had her silently counting the months on her fingers. “You said that you saw my parents almost two years ago. That was when they—”

“Yes, my dear girl. That was several days before their unfortunate accident,” he said, pleased by her reasoning. “Can you believe that after all that transpired between our families, Lord Nipping and his wife greeted me warmly, as if I were an old friend?” Years later, he still seemed perplexed by their reaction.

“Lord and Lady Nipping never glimpsed the true monster in you. You were the gentleman who brought home their beloved daughter. They were grateful for your generosity,” Priddy bitterly mocked. When the earl lifted his hand to strike her, she shut her eyes and braced for the blow.

It never landed.

“It was a moment of weakness that spared you, Kilby. When I took you away, I should have fed you to my pigs or left you in the fields to die of exposure,” he said, his brow furrowed in regret. “I knew my failings had long-reaching consequences when I met your parents again. Do you know, all they could talk about was you? Oh, they had such plans for you. They told me all about their plans to bring you to London for the season. It was time, Lady Nipping said. You had grown into a beauty, your father boasted. Both were anticipating that you would contract a respectable marriage.”