The Clarendon Rose (42 page)

Pain and shock caused Pepridge’s grip on the hilt to slacken, and Clarendon grabbed it, removing it from its resting place with a brutal expediency.

The other man clutched his stomach, breathing hard and groaning with pain as he leaned against the night table.

Clarendon glanced at Tina.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded.

She shook her head.
 

“Good.
 
I would have finished him off right now if you had been.
 
I’ve a mind to anyway.”

Even as he spoke, Tina saw Pepridge move suddenly.
 
She let out a shout and Clarendon turned, the bloodied blade flashing as it slashed into Pepridge’s body a second time.

Pepridge sat abruptly, as if his legs had suddenly given out from under.
 
“I suppose that’ll teach me to underestimate my adversary,” he rasped, his eyes glazing over.

Then, with a final gasp, he fell sideways.
 
He was dead by the time his head hit the ground.

When Sebastian arrived, the disturbance in the servants’ quarters had already been settled.
 
One of the scullery maids had been hurt by the explosion.
 
Fortunately, the doctor announced that her injuries were not serious and should heal up nicely with proper care and rest.
 
Since the damage to the quarters had been swiftly contained by a quick-thinking Chalmers, and repairs were already begun, the rest of the staff was happy to put the incident behind them and return to their duties.

Bastian’s men had taken over the disposition of Pepridge’s body, while Clarendon and Tina filled the young lord in on the details of what had taken place.
 
When they finished, Bastian shook his head.

“I can only be profoundly grateful that nothing worse came of it, for all that Pepridge danced circles around us.
 
If nothing else, this brings out the deficiencies in my men’s training—which I intend to see rectified, now that Pepridge had been dealt with.”
 
He grimaced.
 
“No thanks to me, of course.”

“Don’t blame yourself, old man,” Clarendon said.
 
“In all honesty, I’m glad it came down to me against him in the end—though without Tina’s interventions—" he paused to give his wife a smile of melting tenderness “—the outcome of the struggle would have been quite different indeed.
 
Did I tell you how she knocked his pistol off target while gagged and bound to the bed?”

Bastian’s scowl softened into an indulgent grin.
 
“I do believe you might have mentioned it.”

Tina gave Clarendon a loving smile.
 
“I was simply evening the odds—Pepridge had too much of an advantage over you, and we couldn’t have that, now could we?”

The next day, Tina and Clarendon returned to the manor, to be greeted with the news of Edmund’s forthcoming nuptials.
 

As they walked to the study after proffering their congratulations, Tina grinned.
 
“I suppose this will mean your mother will have to turn around and come back here again if she’s to see her second son married off.”

Clarendon opened the door, then stepped back for her to precede him into the room.
 
“Will you mind terribly, love?”

She shook her head, turning to look up at him with a tender expression.
 
“She doesn’t have any hold over me, now.”
 

He drew her into an embrace as they stood in the open doorway.
 
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, before leaning in to give her a toe-curling kiss.

After a few moments, he pulled away, and Tina had to stifle her sigh.
 
“I suppose we really ought to get to work,” he murmured, his lips grazing her own.

“Oh yes sir, right away, Your Grace,” Tina said, assuming an expression of exaggerated alacrity, even as her hand slid down his back and squeezed one of his firm buttocks.
 
“The taskmaster once more attempts to keep the dilettante in line.”

“Valentina!”
 
Clarendon tried to look shocked, but ruined it by chuckling as he cupped her face in his hands.
 
“What am I to do?
 
Someone has to ensure this reprobate wife of mine doesn’t fall into irredeemable decadence.”

“Are you sure, my love?
 
I for one should quite enjoy the fall if you’re there to provide me with a soft landing.
 
Though perhaps a hard landing would be even better.” She reached down to cup him in her hand, then raised her eyebrows at the stiffness she felt there. “Oh, excellent.”
 
She gave him a mischievous smile.
 
“Soon you’ll simply be too hard to resist.”

“And why, my love, would you even want to resist me?”
 
He stepped forward with her into the study and kicked the door closed behind them.
 

~~~the end~~~

Message from Kathryn Anthony

Thank you so much for buying this e-book. I’m hoping that if you’re reading this, it’s because you reached the end of the novel,
The Clarendon Rose
—and that you enjoyed it! Please consider stopping by the listing on Amazon, posting a quick comment and giving it a star rating! Authors really appreciate reviews from readers, and I’m no exception.

Or, I would love it if you dropped me a note to share your thoughts on this or other books of mine that you’ve read. I’m at [email protected] My twitter username is @writekatanthony, if that’s your preferred method of communication!

Also by Kathryn Anthony:

AN IMMODEST PROPOSAL

It was supposed to have been a celebration of her upcoming nuptials–a ball to which all the lights of the ton had been invited. Instead, Sophia Lamott must smile, curtsey and pretend she hasn’t just been jilted by her long-standing fiancé. When the relentless sympathy becomes unbearable, Sophie takes refuge in the privacy of the library and resolves to get good and drunk.

But things get out of hand. Before she knows it, she’s being kissed by the most exciting man she has ever met. She must then face up to “the Summer Wildfires”–malicious gossips who would delight in dragging Sophie’s name through the muck–and convince them they only imagined the dark, mysterious stranger they saw disappearing into the shadows.

And then, there is the morning after to contend with…

Excerpt:

She was sitting on the floor in the shadowed back corner of the library, propped against the shelves, her skirts spread about her like a crumpled fan. Though Julian couldn't make out her face clearly, he had the impression of features just a little too strong to be pretty, large, dark eyes, and a rather mussed coiffure.

She was frowning at what appeared to be the missing tumbler Hugh had mentioned. She looked adorably disgruntled, like a child who has just lost her favourite toy.
 

He let out a low chuckle.

She glanced up at the sound, blinking vaguely at him with a complete lack of surprise.

"Oh, hullo." She gave him a smile that for all its bleariness, was actually quite dazzling. Julian blinked. How remarkable. It completely transformed her features.

"I expect you heard me just now," she continued. "Sorry about that. I was trying to be quiet, but then I forgot." The explanation evidently struck her funny bone, for she snickered loudly. "Ah. Sorry." She cleared her throat and made a visibly ineffective attempt to be serious.

"Perfectly all right, Miss--"

"Lamott, actually. Sophia Lamott. Not very proper of us to be talking like this without an introduction, but still. Under the circumstances, I imagine we would be pardoned."

Unlikely. They had not been introduced. She was unchaperoned--and completely foxed.

Their situation could hardly be more incriminating.

---

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I live in Ontario with my husband and two cats. I love writing, and I also love to hear from readers! Drop me a line, at [email protected] or say hello on twitter: @writekatanthony.

http://katanthony.wordpress.com

Twitter: @writekatanthony