Regency 05 - Intrigue (14 page)

Gideon’s lips quirked ever so slightly. “Why not?” He leaned back and watched carefully as the boy tried to understand how a man could possibly find Lady Malvina Brackney attractive.

Wolf opened his mouth several times before finally saying, “She’s old.”

“You do realize I am only four years her junior?”

“That’s all? You appear much younger than you are.”

“Thank you for that tactless observation. I am forever underestimated for my appearance.”

His face clearing considerably, Sir Beowulf Brackney confided, “As am I.”

“Indeed,” the earl murmured with interest. “Then perhaps you will do me the honor of not referring to my age or appearance with such regularity.”

Wolf had the grace to flush. “Sorry.”

“Do you return home for holidays?”

A little startled by the turn of the conversation, Wolf hesitated. “Not always. Father liked me to come home but I was inclined to visit Claremont.”

“Claremont?”

“Lord Preston’s heir. Deveraux, Earl of Claremont. I stay with his family when I can. Father didn’t always allow it but Mama could usually persuade him.”

How curious. “Your mother encouraged the connection?”

“Of course. Father did, as well, but Mama did seem to prefer me to stay with Claremont instead of coming home.” He paused, his face creasing in thought. “In fact, there were times when Mama was quite adamant that I not come home. I didn’t think much of it at the time.”

“Before or after your father’s death?”

“Both.” He met Gideon’s eyes. “Could she have been trying to keep the robberies from me?”

“Most probably. Many mothers would not want their children involved in their problems. Considering your temper, Malvina was probably terrified you’d do something brash and get yourself killed.”

The hotheaded baronet shot to his feet. “I would never…!”

“Never…what?” the earl interrupted. He gazed up at his soon-to-be stepson, silently amused at the young man’s defensive response. “You would never charge in, hell for leather, intent on bodily injury?”

Wolf glared, an incongruous expression when his face was slowly turning red in embarrassment. He opened his mouth but nothing emerged. Instead, he turned and stormed from the room.

Given much to ponder, the earl didn’t follow for several minutes. When he reached the door, he was prevented by the entrance of his mother, an occurrence that surprised a reaction from him.

“Mother, what the devil?”

She frowned at her only son. “Must you use such coarse language, Holt? I blame
That Woman’s
influence.”

Her use of
‘That Woman’
reminded him so much of Malvina that he actually laughed. Apologizing quickly, he added, “My betrothed’s influence has little to do with my language, Mother.”

She sniffed, moving further into the room. Sinking gracefully into the chair just vacated by her son, she made use of her ever-present
sal volatile
and murmured plaintively, “She is upsetting the household, Holt. You must curb her inclination to meddle.”

“How can she have been meddling? She has only been from my side for an hour.”

“She is with Samantha, asking all sorts of improper questions about those horses and weapons and any number of vulgar things. I do not want someone of her ilk influencing my daughter.”

Gideon’s face took on a closed expression, his lids drooping to conceal his eyes. After learning how she had protected her son from the ugliness she couldn’t control, he knew Lady Malvina Brackney would never harm Samantha.

“You go too far, Mother,” he warned softly. “Lady Malvina may not have been born in the upper echelons of Society but she is a lady. She is also a mother and would never do anything to harm Samantha.”

Lady Holt’s eyes snapped dangerously. “She harms her by bringing that malefactor into my home,” she uttered darkly, the loathing in her voice a surprise to the son who’d mostly known her as a discontented lover of tonics and powders. “She harms her by encouraging her in unladylike pursuits. She is determined to finish what you started eight years ago.”

Bowing, the Earl of Holt said, “Good day, Mother. We will depart for London in a few days time.”

Lady Malvina was of two minds about going to church. She did not know what rumors flew around the neighboring estates and she had no desire to know. It was not improper for her to visit her betrothed’s family, but she was the daughter of a London merchant. Marrying a baronet could not change that fact in some narrow minds. Trapping an eligible earl would endear her to no one.

Maddy informed her mistress upon entering her chamber that the master was desirous of attending services that morning and would her ladyship join him?

Hardly able to decline, her ladyship agreed.

The family party, Lord Holt, Lady Malvina, Sir Beowulf and Lady Samantha, arrived at the quaint little Norman church in time to be seated. They arrived late enough to avoid having to accept toadying compliments from those who would further their position in Society.

Gideon’s eyes scanned the assemblage as they moved to the family pew in the front of the church. Dr. Phelps, the reverend whose living belonged to the earldom of Holt, nodded but didn’t smile. He was notoriously sour-faced.

In a pew near the back sat a man who did not belong. He smiled in a friendly fashion at Lord Holt, tipped his hat to Lady Malvina and Lady Samantha, and gave Wolf an appraising glance.

Malvina faltered in her trek to the front. She stumbled against Gideon, who steadied her with a hand on her elbow and guided her the rest of the way.

“Are you well?” he asked as he seated her.

She smiled, nodding her head. “Indeed. I merely trod on my hem.”

Gideon accepted her excuse. He knew full well what had her so skittish. Deverell sat in the back of the Church, bold as brass. Gideon could say nothing to indicate he knew of the man’s connection to Malvina. He had to behave as though he was actually glad to see his old school chum.

He clenched his jaw and nodded to Dr. Phelps. The old curmudgeon’s stentorian voice boomed out, causing the Brackneys to jump. The reverend’s voice was something else and quite startling to someone unaccustomed to it.

As the good reverend boomed out his sermon on the wages of sin, Malvina fretted about that very thing. The stranger at the back of the church was
That Man
and she had little doubt he was there for her.

The sermon ended rather abruptly when Lord Holt gave the reverend an exasperated look. He dismissed the congregation and scowled at the earl. Gideon smiled lazily back.

Being very careful to behave as Deverell would expect, Gideon waited to be approached. He sensed the tension in his betrothed and resisted the urge to reveal his knowledge of her tormentor’s identity.

The only thing that kept Gideon from truly donning his relaxed, lazy persona was the fact that Deverell was not attempting to hide. What was he involved in that gave him such a feeling of security?

There was one possibility that gave Gideon a chill down his spine. If Deverell planned to kill Malvina, there was no need to conceal himself. He certainly had her terrified enough to keep his connection with her a secret. If Deverell suspected that Gideon was trying to help her, however…

Lord Holt was wise enough to realize that Deverell did, in fact, suspect his involvement with the widow. Gideon would have to tread carefully.

Greeting each other amiably, the gentlemen talked of trivialities for a moment. Then, turning to his companions, Gideon performed the introductions.

“Lord Delwyn Deverell, my betrothed, Lady Malvina and her son, Sir Beowulf Brackney. You remember my sister, Lady Samantha.”

“Indeed,” Deverell murmured, favoring Lady Samantha with a charming smile. She smiled back but Gideon could tell she wasn’t the least impressed with the man.

Deverell shook Wolf’s hand and turned to Lady Malvina. Donning his most charming manner, he kissed the air above her hand. “Holt is a most fortunate man, my lady.”

Malvina barely suppressed the shudder that threatened at his touch. Smiling back, she murmured the appropriate response and drew her hand back. Her eyes widened when she realized he had transferred a twist of paper into her palm.

Wanting nothing more than to toss it into his smug face, she instead slipped it into her reticule. She could not be sure if Gideon saw; he missed little.

After returning to the Moorview Park, Malvina managed to find a moment alone when she changed for luncheon. Opening the little spill of paper, she read the few words, frowning.

Old folly. Half past one.

Glancing at her mantel clock, she realized it only lacked fifteen minutes to the designated time. Not bothering to ring for Maddy, she scrambled into a sturdy walking dress. Tying on her bonnet, she left her room, being careful to avoid everyone. She didn’t like to lie and felt avoiding the necessity was the best plan.

She followed a well-worn path from the house to the edge of the estate. The old folly stood to the north, near a pond. The first Earl of Holt had it built shortly before follies became all the rage. Some estate owners had even hired a man or instructed a servant to play the part of a hermit to enhance the ambiance of the setting.

Malvina approached the small tower, wondering why the current earl did not have it torn down. It was more of an eyesore than it was romantic. Checking the watch fob pinned to her bosom, she realized she was nearly five minutes late.

What revenge would Lord Delwyn Deverell take if he thought she had not appeared?

She nearly jumped from her skin when the man in question appeared from behind a large rock. How appropriate it was for him to lurk near rocks. Very snakelike.

“Lord Delwyn, is it? What a relief it is to be able to put a name with the face,” she said, trying—and failing—to keep the biting sarcasm from her voice.

“There is no need for you not to know,” he replied. “How are you adjusting to your engagement?”

“I will not discuss any aspect of my personal life with you, sir. Say what you have come to say and begone.”

He smiled. “Ah. Straight to the point. A woman after my own heart.”

His comment made her slightly sick but Malvina refused to be drawn.

“There is a certain document, I am given to understand, that resides within the home of Lord Holt. Perhaps you would be so good as to retrieve it for me.”

“What kind of document?”

“A simple list, nothing more. Names and dates, amounts of money. Nothing important.”

“Then why do you want it?”

“My reasons need not concern you. Only be aware that your precious earl will bear the brunt of my anger if you do not cooperate.”

She felt suddenly faint. She was quite sure her face dramatically paled. “Excuse me?”

“I am upping the ante, my dear lady. Your cooperation will safeguard Lord Holt. My superiors do not care for his interference and would like to see him”—he paused—“removed. I may be able to convince them otherwise.”

“He is your friend. How can you do this to him?”

“He is a childhood acquaintance, nothing more. Besides, there are more important matters to consider than mere friendship.”

Malvina could only nod her assent to his demands, any words she might have spoken strangling on her tongue. She glanced away, fighting the urge to clear the nonexistent blockage from her throat.

Finally, she returned her eyes to her companion, biting back the words she really wanted to say, asking instead, “How will I know the correct document?”

“I’ll make this easy for you,” her companion said with false concern. “Bring me every document matching my description.”

Malvina nodded and moved away. “Will you then return my husband’s journal?”

Lord Delwyn studied her, his eyes sharply aware of every nuance of her expression. “The chances are greater, to be sure.”

Unsatisfied but able to do little about it, Malvina left him. She didn’t look back.

The logical place to look was the earl’s study. Good fortune—if one could call it that—smiled on her the following day.

Gideon had just that morning left for London, informing them all that his business was urgent and he must travel alone, on horseback. They waved him off and Malvina breathed a sigh, relieved. It was one less thing for her to fret over, one less person to catch her at her despicable task.

She left her chamber quickly, eager to be done with the whole sorry business. After a cursory knock on the study door, she entered.

The study was typically masculine. Sturdy furniture, dark colors, shelves of books, stacks of documents and no hint of femininity anywhere to be found.

Malvina groaned. The large desk was positively covered in papers. It would take her several hours to sift through them.

She strode forward, clenching her fists in an abstracted manner. Who would have thought Gideon would be so very untidy? Although, reflecting on what she knew of the man, Malvina realized that was exactly in keeping with his lazy personality.

She picked up the first stack. A quick look-through revealed it to be nothing more than shopkeeper bills. Placing them back where she found them, she retrieved another stack…

An hour later, she’d gone over every pile on the desk and found exactly nothing matching the description given to her by
That Man
…that is, Lord Delwyn.

Her gaze swept the room. More documents were stuffed haphazardly onto shelves. With a sinking feeling, she looked down. Opening the first drawer in the desk, she found even more. Indeed, Gideon needed a keeper.

Selecting a stack of papers at random, she continued her search. She had just replaced a stack on the bookshelf when the door opened. Her heart thundering, Malvina turned.

Lady Samantha. She inwardly cursed. The mother in her cringed at the thought of Lady Samantha having any inkling of the situation.

“Lady Malvina?”

Forcing a smile to her stiff lips, Malvina said, “Lady Samantha. Were you looking for me?”

“Indeed not. Mother asked me to fetch something for her, an account book.” She paused, studying the shelf behind Malvina. Eyes flipping to the woman instead, Samantha asked, “What are you doing in here?”

“Looking for a book,” Malvina promptly lied.

“In the study? You’d do better to look in the library. There is nothing in here except boring books on farming methods and such.”

“Of course. How silly of me.” Moving to leave, she paused next to the girl. “Please do not tell your brother. Such an embarrassment.”

After hesitating a mere moment, the young lady agreed. She fetched the account book her mother had sent her for and followed Malvina out.

“Why did Lady Holt not send a servant for the book?” Malvina asked curiously, while wondering why Gideon’s mother was interested in the accounts at all. She did not seem like the type of mistress to worry overmuch about it, not while there were new and more interesting illnesses to…contract.

“She did. Charles returned to say that there was someone in the study and he did not want to disturb the occupant.”

Casting a sharp glance the girl’s way, Malvina was surprised to note the very blandness of her expression. “Your mother allowed this? Is it not odd for a servant to return empty-handed? Do the servants behave so when your brother is in residence?”

Samantha shrugged. “Mother is not so tolerant but it is the way Giddy is. He is forever allowing things to happen that he probably should not.”

There was a tone in the younger woman’s voice that Malvina could only describe as bitterness. When Lady Samantha absently touched her scarred face, things became somewhat clearer to Malvina.

Placing a gentle hand on her companion’s arm, she asked, “What happened to you?”

Samantha stopped, her once pretty features smoothing as much as possible. “A mishap. Nothing more.”

“How does it concern Gideon?”

“He was there.”

Her response was eloquently unresponsive. “Why do you speak of your brother with such bitterness when it is obvious to the veriest lackwit how much you adore him?”

“Lady Malvina, I do not want to seem rude, but how is that any concern of yours?”

“Your brother is my concern, Lady Samantha. Your bitterness hurts him and his pain is very much my concern.”

Samantha’s brows rose in surprise. Malvina wondered if she herself was wearing a similar expression. She’d only spoken the truth. It was interesting that she had not known it was the truth until she’d said it aloud.

“If you were so concerned for my brother, you would not have been prying through his things.”

Samantha continued her trek, leaving Malvina to stare blindly after her. The watery film over her eyes would not allow her to see clearly.

Gideon returned two days later.

Malvina sat restlessly through dinner. She picked at her food, drank too much wine, and muttered monosyllables to anyone who addressed her directly.

“Is anything distressing you?”

She jumped at Gideon’s question, guilt turning her face pink. Forcing a smile to lips that wanted to tremble, she said, “No, indeed. I am merely tired.”

He raised disbelieving brows at her excuse but allowed it to stand uncontested.

“Perhaps, then, you would not mind answering my question.”

“What question, my lord?”

“How did you find the folly? Was it as romantic as ladies seem to believe such things are?”

Startled by the subject of his inquiry, it was a moment before she answered. “I have never thought there was anything remotely romantic about dangerous ruins. Even man-made ruins.”

“Perhaps if a lady were there to meet a gentleman friend. Would that lend a modicum of romance to the setting?”

She couldn’t help it. She searched his face, looking for any indication that he knew of her meeting with Lord Delwyn Deverell. His expression was the same lazy, nonthreatening look he’d worn almost every moment since she’d met him. His eyelids drooped over his eyes, concealing his thoughts from her.

He idly swirled the red wine in his glass, watching her rather than the liquid. She saw his fingers spasm on the stem. It was this last that convinced her that he knew.

She sighed.

Gideon glanced at the others present, noticing they were silently eating, trying not to listen. Except Wolf, who craned his neck in an effort to hear every word.

The earl sent a meaningful glance to his mother. The lady rose—forcing the gentlemen to rise as well—and indicated that she was ready to retire to her chamber, as she was feeling quite ill of a sudden. It was broadly hinted that the other ladies retire as well.

Malvina rose to her feet, feeling relieved to escape. She bit back another sigh when Gideon took her hand, tugging her back down into her seat. He released her almost immediately.

“Perhaps it is well for you to retire as well, Sir Beowulf,” Gideon added.

To his credit, the young man hesitated. Lady Samantha urged him to obey, whispering something that subtly eased his tension. Everyone filed out, wishing goodnight to the earl and his betrothed.

The earl lowered himself back down to his chair and gestured to the butler. Snapping a smart bow, the butler herded his minions from the room.

A full minute of silence passed before the earl broke it with a question. “What is going on?”

“Going on?”

“You are in the habit of clandestine rendezvous with men you’ve only just met?”

“Of course not!” she denied hotly. “Are you in the habit of spying on your betrothed’s activities?”

“I am in the habit of spying, madam,” was his succinct reply. He refilled his wine glass and held the bottle out to his companion. She considered declining the offer but held out her glass instead. “As for spying on my betrothed, you are the first I’ve ever had and no, it is not what I would typically do. However, under the circumstances…”

“Under the circumstances?” she asked dangerously, her own feelings of guilt rendering a sharpness to her tone that she actually had not intended.

Gideon gave her a disbelieving, slightly contemptuous look. “Please do not play the innocent, Lady Malvina. You are well aware of the reasons I do not trust you. Is it any wonder I am upset to find you have been meeting a gentleman without my knowledge, on my own estate?”

As she opened her mouth to reply, she realized something. There was a certain timbre in his voice that was something she’d never heard before.

At least, not from Gideon.

Her husband had often had just that almost petulant tone in his voice, bordering on anger. It was a familiar sound and, somehow, helped her regain her footing.

“It is not what you suspect, Gideon,” she said softly. She reached out to take his hand. He hesitated a moment before clasping hers in turn. “I happened upon Lord Delwyn quite by chance. I was out walking and he was near the folly. I assumed, since you and he are old friends, that he was allowed to wander the grounds. We discussed the weather, nothing more.”

His expression hardened for just a moment before smoothing back out. Malvina’s breath caught. Did he suspect his friend and
That Man
were one and the same? She couldn’t let him know.

Visibly relaxing, Lord Holt smiled. “It is late, my dear. Perhaps you should retire. I shall see you in the morning.”

Inwardly miserable at her lies, Malvina wanted to say something, wanted nothing more than to tell him what truly happened. Not able to find the words, she rose.

“Goodnight, Gideon.” When he didn’t move to follow her out, she turned back. “Do you not retire, as well?”

He tossed back the remainder of his wine. “No, indeed. I believe I shall go out.” He grinned at her. “I am not yet tired.”