Prince of Ravenscar

by Catherine Coulter

  “Ye really wanted me? Then why’d ye kick me in me privates? An’ then ye coshed me on the ’ead. Why?”

  “I told you, you frightened me. I am a lady, sir. You didn’t have any finesse.”

  “I ’as this finesse—wot’s finesse?”

  She smiled at him.

  “I didn’t think ye wanted me. Ye were acting wild and yellin’ at me. I’ll tells ye, purty ’un, it fair to locked my chops I wanted ye so much. Why, I remember—”

  “Yes, Mr. Manners?”

  His brain overcame his remembered lust. “Well, beat me on me noggin for bein’ an idjut.”

  Roxanne pulled a pistol from her pocket and laid the muzzle against his unshaven cheek. “Yes, you are indeed an idiot. Now, you will tell me who hired you to kidnap me or I will shoot your head off.”

  “But ye said ye wanted me—”

  “I lied.”

  “Yer a lady; a lady don’t lie and she don’t shoot men in their cheek, leastwise not the cheek that resides on their faces.”

  “Don’t you remember, Mr. Manners? I kicked you in your groin, I struck you twice on your head with the plowshare. I will shoot you twice, to make certain you will never bedevil anyone again, if you don’t tell me the truth. Now, who hired you?”

  “Awright! It were the ’igh-an’-mighty king!”

  “King William hired you to kidnap me?”

  “No, no, I meant it were the prince. No one goes against the prince and lives to tell about it.”

  “I see. So Lord Julian Monroe, the Prince of Ravenscar, hired you to kidnap me?”

  “Aye, it were, the prince be a downy one, none disobeys him, ever, iffen they wants to keep their ’earts beatin’ in their chests.” Manners grabbed his hair in his fists and pulled. “Ah, me bleedin’ ’ead, I fair to feel like pukin’ up me guts.”

  Manners had the gall to throw up. At least he missed her slippers.

  Roxanne, Sophie, Devlin, and Julian left poor Tom to deal with him. They stepped outside and listened to Manners alternately vomit and groan.

  “He’d better not dare go unconscious again,” Sophie said, and shook her fist in his direction. “Poor Tom, having to hold the chamber pot for him.”

  “I don’t suppose you hired Manners, Julian? For some nefarious reason that eludes me? You are the only prince I know.”

  “He isn’t altogether stupid,” Julian said slowly. “I wonder if he’s used this ploy before?”

  When the sounds of vomiting stopped, they all trooped back into the small room. It smelled vile. Tom raised the single small window, fanned the air with his coat.

  Orvald Manners turned his face to the wall and refused to say any more.

  Julian said, “Let’s leave him be for a while. Tom, tie him down to the bed, so he won’t be able to do anything, save think about his long list of sins.”

  Tom set to work with a good deal of relish.

  Roxanne said, “To accuse you, Julian, it makes me quite froth at the mouth.”

  Devlin patted Roxanne’s cheek. “It makes me froth more. Calm yourself; Manners will come around, once we make it perfectly clear Julian will send him to Botany Bay if he doesn’t tell us the truth.”

  “Botany Bay?” Julian’s eyebrow shot up. “I fancy that is a believable threat, Devlin. I can contact a naval captain I know. He can tell me what to do, give me specifics to scare the sin out of him.”

  “Would you really send him there?”

  “Oh, yes, Sophie. At the very least, we wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. But he’ll talk, then we’ll see.”

  57

  Julian looked up when Pouffer cleared his throat.

  “Yes, Pouffer? What is it?”

  “It is Lady Merrick, Prince. She is in the drawing room. She brought several valises with her, and her maid, who smiled at me until Lady Merrick saw her smiling, and I tell you, it fell right off her face, poor lass.”

  “What?” Roxanne was on her feet. “Leah is here? But—”

  “That’s quite all right, Roxanne,” Corinne said, as she allowed August, a footman more slight than she, to help her to rise, something she was perfectly capable of doing all by herself, but it seemed it was a sacred requirement of both her and August. “Shall we take a vote? Who would like me to clout Leah?”

  “I vote yes. Clout her,” Sophie said.

  Julian tossed down his napkin. “No, Mother, not you. If there’s any clouting to be done, I shall see to it. Everyone continue with luncheon.”

  But no one ate another bite. All rose silently and followed Julian to the drawing room, where Leah, dressed in a dark blue traveling gown, a clever bonnet set atop her blond hair, stood by the fireplace, holding a beaded reticule in her white hands, staring up at Julian’s father’s portrait.

  “Leah, what are you doing here?” Roxanne asked. “Have you decided Richard Langworth no longer suits you? What happened to make you come back?”

  Leah gave a gay laugh, smiled at all of them, graciousness oozing out of every pore. “Oh, nothing has happened. Richard was forced to go to London to attend to some business, so I decided to return here to rejoin my sister and my niece.” She smiled. “You are both looking quite well, as are you, your grace. If I may impose on your kindness yet again, I should be very grateful if you would let me stay with you until Richard returns to Hardcross Manor.” Her words wafted through the warm air, embracing all of them.

  Before Corinne could open her mouth, Julian said, “Did Richard go to London to hire another thug to abduct your sister, since Orvald Manners failed so spectacularly?”

  Leah splayed her hands and looked at them sadly. “You know Richard was distraught when you told us about Roxanne being kidnapped. As was I. Both of us are vastly relieved she is back safely. Richard told me he quite liked Roxanne, and it smote him that you thought he’d done such a thing. He is hoping that man, Manners, regains consciousness so he can clear his name.” She turned to Roxanne. “My dear, I do hope you are recovered. What a dreadful experience for you.”

  Roxanne thought, Why are you really here, Leah? Do you want to try to discover more of our plans, and inform Richard? Don’t you realize no one in this house would even tell you if it was going to rain? Not anymore.

  Then it hit her. No, it’s about Manners, isn’t it, Leah? You’re afraid what he’ll say if he comes around. You want to warn Richard if he does. You’ll never know he already has regained consciousness.

  “Yes,” Roxanne said pleasantly, “dreadful.”

  Corinne saw no hope for it. She cleared her throat. “I hope you will enjoy this stay more than your last one. How long does Richard plan to be gone? A week? Two, perhaps?”

  “Oh, I quite enjoyed my last visit, your grace. It was Richard, you see. He is so bitterly unhappy with you, Julian. But Roxanne’s kidnapping, that concerns him greatly. A week? I don’t know, your grace. Such a charming house this is. A palace it’s called hereabouts, isn’t it?”

  Leah continued to charm, to spread gaiety around, and she laughed whenever any of the party said something even mildly amusing.

  Later, when Roxanne offered to escort her to her bedchamber, not a single insult slithered out of her mouth. Roxanne lightly laid her hand on Leah’s arm. She had to know the depths of her sister’s treachery, and she knew how to do it. “A moment. I am worried, Leah, I will admit it to you. You are my sister, you have my best interests at heart. This man, Manners, he woke up a while ago. He wants to kidnap me again, Leah, he said he had a taste for me now. He says the prince hired him. That cannot be true, you know it cannot. I don’t know what to do.”

  Leah, eyes bright, squeezed her hand. “The prince? Why don’t we go speak to Manners together, Roxanne? I can be very persuasive. I don’t wish you to be afraid anymore. He is only a bad man, and bad men can be dealt with. Now, where is this creature?”

  Roxanne led her down the long corridor to the small sewing room. She nodded to Tom, who was sitting on a chair, a cup of tea balanced on his knee. “Please lea
ve us, Tom. It will be fine.”

  “Excuse me, Miss Roxanne, but the prince said it was all right for you to be here? With that foul sot?”

  “The prince said a lady’s touch might be the thing,” Leah said easily.

  Once Tom was gone, Leah said, “It smells dreadful in here.”

  “Not nearly as bad as it did.” Roxanne looked down at Manners, who, at the sound of Leah’s voice, slowly opened his eyes. “Another beautiful angel wot’s come to flutter ’er wings about me.”

  Leah said nothing at all. She leaned over Manners, studied him for a moment, then slapped him hard.

  Manners gasped, then said, sputtering, “But why’d ye do that fer? I ain’t niver done anything to ye!”

  Leah leaned close. “You smell vile. You are vile, I doubt not. Now tell me who hired you to kidnap Roxanne.”

  Roxanne couldn’t move. What would Manners say? What would Leah do?

  “It were the prince, I already told the red-’eaded witch wot’s standing right aside ye that it were the prince wot paid me the groats.”

  Leah straightened. “I don’t know, Roxanne. There is defeat in his voice, but if it is the prince—what a ridiculous appellation that is—listen, Julian Monroe is nothing more than a merchant, running his string of ships, doing accounts, like any clerk. He may be the son of a duke, but he has the heart of a merchant.” She eyed her sister and leaned down again over Manners. “No, it is not the prince. I am sick of your lies, you filthy varmint. The prince wants her, he wouldn’t have someone do away with her, unless—” Leah broke off, looked over her shoulder at Roxanne. “Did something happen between you and the prince? I know you seduced him. Is he now refusing to marry you?”

  “No, he isn’t refusing to marry me,” Roxanne said. “We really haven’t discussed it, you know.”

  “Are you pregnant?”

  “No.” What would happen, Roxanne thought dispassionately, if I slapped her, as she did Manners? She still thinks Julian wants me and I want him?

  “Ye shut yer chops, missis, that ain’t a nice thing to say to the little witch. Actually, ye said a whole lot of not nice things to ’er.” He stopped cold, reevaluated, then gave them both a toothy grin. “Aye, ’twere the prince, ’e don’t want ye in ’is bed anymore, but I’ll take ye, make ye scream wit’ ’appiness.”

  Leah slapped him again. “Are you telling me the truth? Was it really the prince who hired you?”

  “Oh, aye, missis, ’tis the truth, I swears it on me ma’s grave.”

  Roxanne looked from Manners to Leah. She began to laugh. “You were pleasant for perhaps twenty minutes, Leah. I believe that might be a record. It was difficult for you, wasn’t it? Have you got what you wanted? Manners is blaming the prince? For kidnapping me, his one true love? Such a puzzle that is, don’t you think? Will you leave us alone now? Will you leave Ravenscar, filled with news for Richard?”

  Leah turned on her. “How dare you say—”

  Still laughing, Roxanne turned on her heel and the room, sending Tom back to protect Manners from Leah. It was certain Leah did not believe Richard had hired Manners to kidnap her, else she wouldn’t have slapped him. So who had? At the moment, it didn’t matter.

  Roxanne was hiccupping when Devlin caught her at the top of the stairs.

  He took both arms in his hands, shook her slightly. “What is this? Pouffer told me you went off with Leah. What happened? Why are you laughing like this, like you feel so much pain you can’t help but laugh because there’s nothing to be done?”

  She said on a sigh, “It is Leah. She believes the prince is enamored of me, and yet Manners claims the prince had me kidnapped. It is all so ridiculous, you know.” She swallowed another laugh, looked him right in his dark eyes. He knew her well, and in such a short time, and he accepted her, loved her. Roxanne took his face between her hands and kissed him hard.

  Devlin said, “Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

  She opened her mouth and poured herself into a kiss that nearly made her teeter herself off her heeled slippers with delight.

  “That’s better,” he said into her mouth, his hands stroking up and down her back, then bringing her closer.

  He pressed his forehead against hers. At the sound of Leah’s voice, he said, “Do you think that voice comes from a stray nightmare?”

  “I now understand why the prince hired Manners to kidnap you, Roxanne. You have played him false with his nephew. His nephew! The prince is proud, I have been told, and he is well used to violence, all know it. Did he not kill his first wife because she betrayed him?”

  Roxanne smiled at him.

  “I counsel you to take care, Roxanne. It appears the prince doesn’t wish to have you around, either. Who knows what he’ll do to rid himself of you.”

  She waved at Devlin. “I think I would prefer to have this one, since he’s the heir to a dukedom, not a miserable merchant.”

  “You’d best take care, Roxanne. After he tosses up your skirts, he’ll leave you. He keeps a score of mistresses, all know it. You have no morals at all. I am ashamed to be your sister.”

  Before Roxanne could leap on her, Leah brushed past her and went down the stairs, never looking back.

  “Am I deceived in you, Roxanne? Are you a lady of low moral disposition?”

  His voice, his words, calmed her instantly. She smiled at him. “Well, how can I be certain when I have never before had to examine my moral disposition?”

  He kissed her again. “Perhaps you are skilled at deception? Is your sister right? Have you decided to leave Julian and come to me? Ah, imagine his rage.” He kissed her again, then once more.

  “I fear,” Roxanne managed, when he raised his head for a moment, “that my sister is again herself. What’s sad is that it is not a surprise.”

  “No, her display of finer feelings did not last very long. A pity, but in the long scheme of things, who cares? I daresay we shall never have to see her again. Do you mind if she is not invited to our wedding?” Devlin kissed Roxanne again, picked her up, and carried her down the corridor to his bedchamber.

  He stopped cold, cursed. “There are servants everywhere, probably behind every door and around every corner. No, I’m not jesting. Haven’t you noticed that Julian has more servants than he knows what to do with? You want to know why? I’ll tell you. If anyone is in trouble, if anyone can’t find a way to feed himself, or his family, Julian hires him, and when he is not here, Pouffer is to hire those in dire straits.” Devlin touched his forehead to hers. “Do you think her grace is behind that door to my right? Is she tapping her foot, wondering if I am a dishonorable sot because we are not yet married and I want to strip you naked and kiss every white inch of you?”

  He cursed. “I suppose Julian is right. We must wait, that is, if you agree to wed me. Get me out of my misery, Roxanne, agree to marry me, or shoot me. Before you answer, allow me to tell you the reason I want you around me is that I love you to the breadth and length of me. You fill me with joy, Roxanne. My life is yours, and my happiness. Ah, the children we will have. Say you will be my wife, my countess.”

  58

  Sophie was sitting on the carpet in Julian’s estate room, laughing as she lightly rubbed Oliver’s soft ears. She looked up at Roxanne, who was pacing. “Married to Devlin—this is wonderful. I am so pleased for you. Who would have guessed, since you’ve been a self-proclaimed spinster whose only goal was to see me well placed, so filled with common sense I feared you would collapse under the weight of it. But no longer.”

  Roxanne said, “No more mistresses for him. He fancies we can all be friends. That is something I must consider carefully, and probably with a great deal of humor. Yes, he’s all mine.” She paused, frowned, and sank down on the carpet beside Sophie and began to lightly pat Beatrice’s belly. “I suppose we will take one of her pups, too. No, don’t growl at me, Cletus, I’m not hurting your one and only love. Oliver, why are you growling? Are you jealous?”

  Sophie smiled. “Julian is convinced
Cletus is the father, but I wonder. Oliver has been prancing about lately, looking quite proud of himself. Both he and Cletus are very possessive. Would you look at Hortense, all by herself in the corner.” Sophie rose to fetch Hortense and held her on her lap.

  Roxanne said, “Devlin told me the plans for our smuggling adventure. He believes I will quite enjoy myself. He insists we both cover ourselves with black and wear masks.”

  “I only wish Julian would stop worrying that something will go wrong. Nothing can go wrong, I have told him over and over. I mean, the dastardly Richard knows nothing about it, nor does anyone else, save the four of us.” She frowned. “Still, everyone hears everything in the palace.”

  Roxanne said, “There won’t be a moon, so that is good. You’re right, what could possibly go wrong?”

  There was a storm coming, Julian could taste it, but he wasn’t going to call off this last smuggling run. A storm kept curious men in their homes, huddled near a fire. It was past midnight, the wind was high, black clouds scuttled across a black sky, obscuring the stars. Sophie strode like a boy at his side, wearing a black cloak over a dark gown with no petticoats beneath. She was not, however, wearing a mask.

  Julian, too, was wearing a thick black cloak. He took her hand, guiding her toward the cave.

  “Don’t worry about Roxanne, Devlin will take care of her. They will meet the boat on the beach and direct my men onto the river route to the cave. You and I will wait here for them and direct the unloading.”

  He looked at her shadowed face. “You are grinning, I know it, Sophie. If there were any moon at all, I would see your face glowing with excitement.”

  “Do you know me so well, Julian?”

  “Well enough. You have been my constant companion for—how long is it now, Sophie?”