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Authors: Rosemary Stevens

Tags: #Regency Mystery

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BOOK: The Bloodied Cravat
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The dance ended and there was a pause in the music. Here was my opportunity to dance with Freddie. I reached her just as Signor Tallarico did. “Sorry, Tallarico, but the Royal Duchess has already promised this dance to me.”

He let out a theatrical sigh and put his hand to the hilt of his sword. “Remember I told you, Duchess, that I would impale myself on my sword if you did not save two dances for me.”

“You shall have the next, Signor,” Freddie said, turning to me.

“Victor, call me Victor,” he beseeched.

I took her arm and led her into the dance before she could reply.

“Are you having fun, Freddie?” I asked.

“Oh yes, George, dear. Your liqueur and all the champagne has made me quite giddy.”

We could only have brief exchanges, as the steps of the dance parted us frequently. Her face glowed with happiness. I found my ability to enjoy her pleasure vastly diminished by thoughts of the missing letter. I could not let her see my distress, though.

“Who is that plainly dressed man standing talking with Old Dawe?” I asked when we came together again.

Freddie looked in the direction I indicated. “Doctor Curtis Wendell. Recall I told you he is the county physician who also helps look after my animals.”

“I remember.” The dance separated us again.

Ah, Doctor Wendell must be the one Roger Cranworth deemed unworthy for his sister. From the look in Miss Cranworth’s eyes when the doctor had been about to sit with her, I judged the admiration she held for him high. Surely he was to be desired over Lord Kendrick or the vulgar and elderly Squire Oxberry. The latter had not joined the dancing party, declaring it was well past the time he normally retired in the evenings. Poor Miss Cranworth.

The dance went on for another quarter hour. I found myself wishing Freddie and I were alone. The dance, like life, kept parting us.

On one such occasion, out of the corner of my eye I saw Lord Kendrick take Cecily Cranworth through the open doorway leading outside. Here was a surprise. I thought he entertained no further thoughts of the title-less girl.

At that moment, the music came to an end. Freddie was once more across from me. “What is it, George? You are frowning.”

“Lord Kendrick has taken Miss Cranworth from the ballroom. Miss Cranworth must be thinking this is her chance to secure Lord Kendrick’s promise of marriage. From what I heard him say, she is sure to fail. Where is her brother?”

Freddie glanced about. “He is over there with Signor Tallarico and Lady Ariana.”

The Italian saw Freddie’s gaze and swiftly crossed the room, seeing his opportunity to claim his dance. Roger Cranworth remained with Lady Ariana, unconcerned about his sister. There was a definite look of admiration in Lady Ariana’s eye as she spoke with Roger Cranworth. Certainly she appeared more animated in his presence than I had ever seen her.

“George, what should we do?” Freddie asked before Tallarico reached us. “Her reputation will be ruined if she stays alone in the marquess’s company much longer.”

“I shall find Miss Cranworth and be sure of her safety. Stay here.”

Tallarico was only too happy to replace me at Freddie’s side.

My progress towards the doors to the gardens was slow. People milled about, everyone seeming to want to greet me. I maintained my usual aplomb and tried to look unhurried. To call attention to Miss Cranworth’s predicament would only bring scandal on the girl’s head. I persevered in my quest to reach her, however. I could not like the idea of her being alone with Lord Kendrick after what I seen between him and Lady Ariana earlier.

At last I was through the door and out into the night. Cautiously, I walked across the neatly cropped grass and looked around. If the two were engaged in a civil conversation, I would quietly withdraw.

The cry I heard coming from the direction of a large pine tree was far from civil and not one of delight. I quickened my steps to meet a disgraceful sight. Lord Kendrick held Miss Cranworth in a cruel grip, one arm linked around her waist, the other captured her wrists in front of his chest. His lips crushed hers in a brutal kiss. She averted her face from him, beseeching him to stop.

“Miss Cranworth,” I said in a loud voice. That was all I needed to do to break Lord Kendrick’s hold on her. He leaned back and lounged against the tree as if nothing had happened. Miss Cranworth staggered. I said, “I believe you promised me this dance, Miss Cranworth.”

She was overcome and near to fainting. I rushed forward and caught her in my arms. She moaned and stared, eyes wide, at Lord Kendrick.

“How dare you treat a lady thus?” I demanded, glaring at the marquess and dropping any pretense of a chance encounter.

Lord Kendrick smirked. “The chit wants to marry me, if you must know. I was only giving her a taste of wedded life.”

“If that is your idea of lovemaking, I pity any lady unfortunate enough to marry you,” I told him.

All at once, Miss Cranworth found her strength. She pulled herself from my arms and confronted her attacker. “You may have the title of a noble lord now, Connell, but you have no honour!”

Lord Kendrick laughed at her. “Dear me, what a tigress.”

Miss Cranworth’s fear had changed to a raging anger. “I shall never marry you, Connell,
never
, no matter what!” she said in a furious voice. “I would rather die or see you dead first!”

The marquess’s laughter rang out in the night air. He flicked his fingers at her in a dismissive gesture, then strolled in the direction of the ballroom.

Miss Cranworth’s eyes blazed with hatred, her fists curled at her side.

“Take care not to find yourself alone with the marquess again, Miss Cranworth,” I advised.

“Oh, I shall. Thank you for coming to my rescue, though, Mr. Brummell,” she replied.

Then Doctor Wendell came hurrying out of the ballroom, looking left and right. With a glad cry, she rushed into his caring arms, calling out, “Curtis!”

Finding my presence unnecessary, I rejoined the party. Despite imbibing several glasses of champagne, I was preoccupied with the nasty scene I had witnessed. I would be happy to see the back of Lord Kendrick despite the fact I still had not been able to question him regarding the highwayman. I asked myself what he would he be willing to tell me anyway? Nothing.

I saw Roger Cranworth take himself from the ballroom. No doubt he finally noted his sister’s prolonged absence. I shuddered to think of what he would say when he found her with Doctor Wendell instead of the marquess.

Lord Kendrick remained a part of Lady Deidre’s court throughout the evening. The duke’s daughter bestowed little attention on the marquess, but I did observe her shrewd gaze linger on him appraisingly more than once.          

In the small hours of the morning, the party broke up. Ignoring Sylvester Fairingdale’s inquiring look, I escorted Freddie upstairs. I was about to tell her what had occurred between Lord Kendrick and Miss Cranworth, but what happened next made my thoughts race in another direction.

When we reached her private sitting room, Freddie quietly opened the door. “It was a pleasant night, was it not, George?” She crossed into the room, with me following.

She turned and shut the door behind me. A branch of candles served as the only light in the room. We were alone. Not even a dog in sight.

I moved in front of her, taking her hands in mine. “You deserve to enjoy yourself, especially on your birthday.”

“Did I deserve this?” she asked, removing her hands from mine and pulling a ribbon attached to a fan from her wrist. She opened the fan to its fullest. The orange silk sported a painted likeness of Sylvester Fairingdale.

Freddie’s eyes glowed with amusement as they met mine.

“He had the nerve to give you that atrocity?” I asked.

“You do not think I shall find it useful?” she teased.

“Only if you want to frighten someone.”

She tossed it onto a nearby chair. We laughed together, the excitement of the party and all the champagne making us lighthearted.

Abruptly, the atmosphere in the room changed. I took a step closer to her, holding her gaze. “Happy Birthday, my princess,” I whispered. I reached out and caressed a curl laying against the lace of her dress.

“It has been happy with you here, dearest,” she whispered back.

Her lips were but inches from mine, yet they might have been miles away. I could not kiss her. It would not be right. Married women took lovers, true, but not women of Freddie’s integrity.

Yet, I could not bring myself to move away.
She is the Duke of York’s wife
, I reminded myself sternly, never taking my gaze from her blue eyes.

Then, with one beringed hand, she reached up and touched a lock of my hair resting on my starched cravat. “You have allowed your hair to grow. I like it this way.”

“In that case, I shall keep the style. For you.”

Her hand moved from my hair to my cheek. She stroked the side of my face.

All the while a voice in my brain—I expect it was my conscience—screamed that I must not kiss her.

She closed her eyes.

Well, I had meant to behave.

I bent down and kissed her forehead. I intended just one more small kiss on her cheek—I give you my word!—but somehow or another in a devilish mix-up at the last moment, she turned her head in the direction of my mouth.

My lips pressed against hers, gently at first, then I covered her mouth with mine.

But not for more than three seconds strung together.

The door connecting the sitting room with Freddie’s bedchamber swung noisily open. Freddie and I drew apart.

Ulga with her bag of knitting stood in the doorway.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

The next day, my arms were around Freddie again, but this time, it was outdoors, in full view of the guests. In the back garden of the house, tables covered in white cloths had been laid out with food and drink served by liveried footmen. This afternoon people could enjoy the still warm weather while eating and gossiping. Two of everyone’s favourite activities.

A short way down on the lawn, an archery range had been set up. Here was where I held Freddie close to me. I had promised her last autumn that I would teach her the finer points of the sport. I am a man of my word no matter how difficult the task. I breathed in Freddie’s rose scent.

 Three circular targets had been placed at a distance. Shooting at the first target were Doctor Wendell and Cecily Cranworth. That they enjoyed each other’s company was obvious to all. Roger Cranworth was absent.

Freddie and I aimed at the second target. At the third, Signor Tallarico flirted with Lady Penelope under the unhappy gaze of Lord Wrayburn, and the calculating scrutiny of her mother, Lady Crecy.

My attentions were on Freddie. “Here,” I said near her ear, remembering the taste of her lips. “Pull the arrow back while aligning it with the target.”

“George, I must speak with you,” she said, holding the arrow taut.

Damn.

“I expect I owe you an apology for my behaviour last night, Freddie.”

She let the arrow fly. It fell short of the target. “Not about that,” she said, her eyes downcast. “About Lord Kendrick.”

Relieved, I selected another arrow from the case. “As soon as we can, we shall tell him he must leave Oatlands.”

She looked at me. “George, I have already spoken with the marquess.”

“But we were to do so together,” I said, surprised. “I wanted to be by your side in case you needed assistance.”

Freddie gazed off into the distance. “I would have appreciated your support. I had planned to make arrangements with you this morning at breakfast, but you did not come downstairs. Later, before the picnic began, I inquired after you. Old Dawe said you were still in your chamber.”

“I am sorry. I slept longer than I had intended.” The truth was, I had spent another night drinking myself into oblivion. Ulga’s look of shock and disapproval upon witnessing the tender scene between Freddie and me acted like a hammer of guilt over my head. To cease its pounding, I resorted to an excellent smuggled French brandy. The unavoidable result was that I had traded the pounding hammer of guilt with the pounding hammer of a headache brought on by excessive drink.

Then too, visions of the blue velvet book and the missing letter kept popping into my aching head. If that letter were to fall into the wrong hands, Freddie’s lips would never utter my name again, no less ever touch mine again.

I replaced the arrow in its case. “Did Lord Kendrick give you any trouble? Shall I speak to him? I do not see him outside, but I can find him.”

“He has already departed Oatlands,” she told me regally.

“What happened?”

She drew a deep breath. “After breakfast, I went to confer with Old Dawe regarding the picnic. In the hall, I saw Lord Kendrick enter the drawing room. I hesitated, then followed him. He was alone. I told him that he must leave Oatlands and why. It was not a comfortable scene.”

“Why did you not wait for me, Freddie?”

“I rely on you too much, George,” she said firmly.

So, she too felt guilty over last evening’s kiss. “I am always at your service, your Royal Highness. You must never doubt that I have only your happiness at heart.”

She smiled at me then. “Thank you, dear.”

I relaxed. “What did Lord Kendrick say when you told him?”

“He was ugly about the matter, calling me irrational. But he agreed to leave and take Lady Ariana with him.”

“Good. Then he is gone.”

“There is more,” she said, a troubled expression on her face.

“More? He did not touch you or hurt you in any way, did he? If so, by God I shall call him out—”

“No, no, George, there is no need to look fierce. After my meeting with Lord Kendrick, I retired to my chamber for a few minutes to compose myself. Something disturbing happened there as well, but I shall tell you about it in a moment. At any rate, when I returned downstairs, I heard Lord Kendrick’s voice coming from the drawing room. He was still in there, with the doors partially closed. What caught my attention was that he was quarrelling with Roger Cranworth.”

BOOK: The Bloodied Cravat
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