Brethren of the Coast Box Set 2

by Barbara Devlin

  In the dark, she struggled in vain, as her unknown assailant carried her along the back wall and navigated a small passage. At last, they slipped into a dimly lit chamber, which Daphne surmised was the study, because of the furnishings and the faint smell of cigar smoke.

  “Now I am going to put you down, and if you raise the alarm, I will quiet you in a manner you may or may not enjoy, Miss Daphne.” In a flash, she recognized the voice and calmed. “Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “My but you look rather fetching tonight, in your cream ensemble.” Her kidnapper set her on terra firma, then trailed a finger along the curve of her breast, and she stomped his booted foot and wrenched free. “What a spitfire. No wonder Randolph favors you.”

  “Lord Sheldon, why have you brought me here?” Daphne retreated a step and inhaled a shaky breath. “What do you want with me?”

  “Can you not guess?” He studied her from top to toe. “Or are you that naïve?”

  “Pray, I comprehend nothing in your outrageous manners.” Hugging herself, she withdrew and added more distance between them. “Why am I the unfortunate benefactor of your unwelcome flattery, sir?”

  “Lady Moreton has a score to settle with you.” As if guessing her thoughts, the scoundrel positioned himself in the path to the door. “She asked for my assistance.”

  “And you champion her spurious cause?” To her frustration, she could identify no other exit. “Have you no sense of decency?”

  “No, I am not so encumbered.” He laughed, as he moved in her direction. “I am in it for the sport.”

  “Is that what I am to you?” And then his heinous purpose dawned, and she shuddered. “You intend to compromise me.”

  “My dear, I am many things, but I am no rapist. Almira merely requires me to give the impression that I have ruined you, and I am more than adequate to the task.” The devastatingly handsome but unscrupulous rogue cast a lazy smile, and she feared she might vomit. “But I caution you not to reject the meal, when you have yet to sample the main dish.”

  “And what does she hope to achieve, aside from my embarrassment?” In a swift maneuver, Daphne skittered behind the massive desk, achieving a modicum of security. “As I am a provincial, I do not value society’s good opinion.”

  “She suspects Dalton wishes to marry you.” He lunged, but she avoided him. “I am to ensure that never happens.”

  “No matter what you try, you will fail.” In that second, Daphne’s confidence soared, as the reprobate could never succeed. “Because I love Dalton, and he cares for me. So do your worst, sir. You cannot hurt us.”

  Lord Sheldon opened his mouth and then closed it. For a few seconds, he simply gawked at her. Then, to her surprise, he sat in the leather chair near the hearth. “Has Dalton told you of the time he cuckolded Lord Walton?”

  “At Lady Darrow’s, after a visit to the theatre?” Daphne sank into the plush seat at her left and rested her elbows atop the blotter, as she fretted she might swoon. “Yes, I know the whole of it.”

  “And what of the Heath affair?” Lord Sheldon fixed his stare on the ceiling. “When we got foxed and—”

  “You seduced the Howard twins and then traded partners.” Daphne sighed. “I have heard the story, as Dalton shared the entirety of his history with me.”

  “And it does not bother you?” The wicked man met her gaze and furrowed his brow, as his astonishment was evident in his tone. “You forgive him?”

  “In the grand scheme, it does not signify.” Emboldened anew, she soared on a wave of unshakeable conviction, as she recalled her conversation with Lady Amanda. “As the events occurred prior to our meeting, they matter not to me, so there is nothing to forgive. And as I apprised you, I love Dalton.”

  “How very old-fashioned of you, Miss Daphne.” Lord Sheldon scrutinized the shine of his boots. “I had thought to stun you into submission, to incite your anger and then use revenge as a catalyst for a pleasurable tryst.”

  “It will not work.” And then she fretted for her knight. Had Lady Moreton lured him to an equally remote location? Regardless of the outcome, Daphne vowed to support her future husband. “Dalton is the only man I have any interest in touching—or having touch me.”

  “And do you think such a creature exists for me?” He frowned. “Is it possible for someone who has wreaked so much havoc in this world, and destroyed untold marriages, to find love?”

  “Of course, it is possible.” Unafraid, Daphne stood, walked to the center of the chamber, and claimed the chair beside his. “You need only earn the lady of your dreams with honesty and a true heart.”

  “What of you?” He shifted to face her. “My fortune is greater than Randolph’s, and although I, too, am a second son, my father is an earl, so you would be Lady Sheldon, if we wed.”

  “Thank you, for the gracious offer, but I do not set store in such trivial titles, sir.” She studied the flames in the fireplace. “And I have found my mate.”

  “Indeed, you have, and I should return you to him, as you have made a dolt of me.” Lord Sheldon checked his timepiece and shot forth. “Bloody hell, Almira will be here, at any second.”

  “Oh, no.” She leaped to her feet. “What shall I do?”

  Just then, the door flew open, and Dalton loomed in the entrance. He glanced at Daphne, glared at Lord Sheldon, and kicked shut the oak panel. Before she could utter a word, her knight stormed across the room, clutched the lapels of Lord Sheldon’s coat, and slammed him against the wall.

  “If you put your hands on her, I will kill you.” Dalton bared his teeth. “I will see you at dawn on Paddington Green.”

  “Dalton—no.” Fearing for her knight, Daphne framed his face and forced him to look at her. “Nothing happened. In fact, Lord Sheldon intervened on our behalf, after Lady Moreton hatched a plot to compromise me. But he could not go through with it.”

  “Oh, come now.” Dalton scowled. “Do you really expect me to believe this leopard has changed his spots?”

  “Yes.” Daphne leaned against him. “Will you hold me? Lady Moreton planned a horrible scheme, but Lord Sheldon confessed the entire stratagem.”

  “Darling.” A sudden shift in Dalton’s demeanor coincided with a growl, as he thrust aside Lord Sheldon and then enfolded her in a gentle embrace. “Are you all right? I feared the most awful things, when I could not find you.”

  “I am fine.” She lifted her chin, and he bestowed upon her a tender kiss. “And I am better, now.”

  “Uh, I hate to break up this sickeningly sweet reunion, but Almira should have already found us, so I would not delay.” Lord Sheldon paused at the portal, which he eased ajar. Without ceremony, he retreated. “Hell and the Reaper, she comes down the hall, with Lady Howard and Lady Eddington as witnesses.”

  “What can we do?” Daphne gulped.

  Lord Sheldon sprinted behind the desk and said, “Randolph, you owe me for this.” Then he pushed the chair aside and dove beneath the piece of furniture.

  “Follow my lead, sweetheart.” To her infinite amazement, Dalton dropped to one knee and pulled a small box from his pocket. When he lifted the lid, he revealed a diamond ring nestled in a bed of cotton. “I have been carrying this with me, waiting for the perfect moment to gift your betrothal band, since the jeweler delivered it. When Lady Moreton opens the door, shout, ‘yes.’”

  As if on cue, the nasty woman thrust the oak panel, and Daphne cried, “Yes.”

  “Oh, my.” Lady Howard blinked and sputtered. “It appears we have intruded on a romantic interlude.”

  “And what a momentous occasion.” Lady Eddington pressed her clasped hands to her bodice. “While I must apologize for the interruption, may I extend my deepest congratulations, my dears?”

  Dalton slipped the understated bauble onto Daphne’s finger and then kissed her knuckles, before he stood. “I beg your pardon, Lady Eddington. Given our close familial ties, I thought your venue the perfect opportunity to surprise Miss Harcourt with a proposal.
I hope you are not angry that I commandeered the study for the private ceremony.”

  “Sir Dalton, I am honored.” Lady Eddington approached and whispered in his ear. “I should be uncontrollably excited, and my ball would be the talk of London.”

  “What an excellent notion.” Dalton bowed. “Lead the way, Lady Eddington.”

  As Lady Eddington and Lady Howard disappeared into the hall, Lady Moreton clutched Daphne’s arm and whispered, “As long as you live, you will never satisfy him as I satisfied him.”

  “Do not intrude on my person, again, as I may be moved to violence.” Daphne wrenched free and lifted her chin. “And that is me being nice.”

  “Leave us alone, Almira.” With that, Dalton ushered Daphne to the ballroom.

  Following in their hostess’s wake, they strolled straight to the orchestra, where Lady Eddington indicated she wished to address the revelers. After flagging down a footman, she claimed a crystal flute of champagne and sent additional portions to Dalton and Daphne.

  “What is happening?” Daphne’s heart beat a salvo in her chest.

  “Smile, my angel.” Dalton winked. “There is nothing the ton loves more than romance.”

  “My lords, ladies, friends, and family, I am so pleased to announce the impending nuptials of two of our brightest young people, and we are the first to share the stupendous news. So raise your glasses in toast.” Lady Eddington paused for effect. “Sir Dalton Randolph, brother of Viscount Wainsbrough, is to wed Miss Daphne Harcourt.”

  THE LUCKY ONE

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Had Dalton known how quickly polite society would forgive and forget his foibles in the wake of his engagement; he would have sought a bride much sooner. Given only one woman had ever inspired thoughts of marriage and a trip to the altar, such revelations mattered not. In a mere sennight, he and Daphne had gone from being the pariahs of the ton to the most marvelous couple in London. For good or ill, his course was set, and Miss Daphne Harcourt would be his bride in a fortnight. It was that fact, alone, which had brought him to White’s; in search of information he never thought he would solicit.

  “Gentlemen, each of you has survived my current predicament and now enjoys a happy union, which is why I have asked for this meeting.” Stretching his legs, he reclined in his chair and ignored the sea of smirks. “So how do I make love to a virgin?”

  “Very carefully,” Everett replied. “As it can be a traumatic experience for both of you.”

  “Which has been known to cause some fledgling wives to leap from moving carriages, to escape the ordeal.” Trevor gurgled, and in unison, the gathered Brethren husbands, save Lance, who remained at home with his wife and new son, burst into laughter.

  “How did I know you would toe that same tired mark?” Everett rolled his eyes. “And this from a man who mistook his blushing mate for a seasoned doxy.”

  “Watch it, old chum.” Trevor sobered. “It was an honest miscalculation, on my part. And who would have ever guessed I would find a naked but unspoiled dove in Dalton’s cabin? But if I could travel back into the past, and have my chance again, I would have taken my time and savored the moment, committing every caress and kiss to memory, because it happens but once, and then it is done. However unintended, in my haste to have Caroline, I took her as a tried courtesan, and I hurt her. Had I known of her delicate state, I would have prepared her, as most maiden’s discomfort stems from nerves.”

  “Point taken.” Everett stared into his glass of brandy. “And Trevor is correct, in some respects, as there is nothing like the deflowering of the woman who claims your heart. It is not something you do in a rush. Rather, you should recognize the achievement and relish the significant event in your life, as a couple. It sets the tone for your conjugal bed, and that could be a blessing or a curse, depending on how you handle it.”

  “I concur with Everett.” With a half-smile, Jason leaned on the armrest. “Given we were none of us green lads for the singular occasion, we can attest to the certainty that, while the anatomy remains the same, there is something altogether special about sailing your wife’s uncharted harbor, when you ponder the fact that no other man has lain between her thighs. And although the mechanics do not differ, nothing feels as you expect it, when your affections are engaged. Prior to our marriage, I will admit I lusted after my Alex, but love tempers some aspects of coitus, such as the baser instincts centered on self-gratification and release, while amplifying others, which defy explanation. Simply put, nothing compares to what I share with my bride, and she holds my unreserved and exclusive attention. I will have no other, as I desire no other.”

  The men grew quiet, as palpable tension hung heavy in the air. Pondering the heady conclusions his brothers had disclosed, Dalton rubbed his chin and wondered how to maintain control in the throes of passion, as he nursed a powerful hunger for his blonde angel. To Dirk, he asked, “Was it the same for you?”

  “Aye.” His always-refined elder sibling gazed at the floor and grinned. “While I wanted to wait until the vows had been spoken, my spy had other plans, and she would not be denied. When I took her, it was all I could do to manage her enthusiasm, without embarrassing myself, but the trick is in the focus. You must place her needs before your own. Endeavor to bring her fulfillment, which will help her relax and minimize her pain. In regard to completion, you need not worry about yourself.”

  “Oh, I say. He is right.” Everett grimaced. “You must summon dispassionate thoughts, else you are done for, and I would know. My Brie provoked me, and I rode her, hard and fast, as an unbroken horse, though I am not proud of it.”

  “Bloody hell, it can be mortifying for a reformed rake.” Trevor downed his brandy, signaled for a refill, and winced. “Think back to your days as a randy lad, when the softest breeze could load and fire your cannon, and then double it. And while Caroline and I have been married these past four years, and we have produced two healthy sons and have another child on the way, I still want her every bit as much as I did the night I claimed her.”

  “In that I would not argue, as it is all I can do not to ravish my Becca at every turn.” Dirk chuckled. “Brother, in the early tenure of our marriage, we made love every morning, noon, and night, and several times in between. And my wife shows no signs of slowing her carnal crusade. To date, we have christened each chamber and parlor in Randolph House and worked our way through the larger portion of apartments at Lyvedon, but we will persevere.”

  “But our ancestral home has over one hundred rooms.” The logistics, alone, impressed Dalton, and he drew his lucky coin from his pocket and flipped it in his palm. “Never knew you had it in you, old boy.”

  “You will be amazed by what a cherished wife can inspire.” Dirk waggled his brows. “Best aphrodisiac known to humanity, in my humble opinion.”

  “And then there is the dreaded declaration.” Trevor elbowed Everett, who nodded his assent. “You may avoid it, in the beginning, but sooner or later, you must proclaim your love, as Daphne will need it.”

  “And do so without turning green in the face.” Everett snickered.

  “I resent that, Everett. Really, I do.” With a mighty scowl, Jason folded his arms. “I succeeded, eventually.”

  “How long did it take?” Everett clucked his tongue. “Come, now. We are friends.”

  “It was almost two blasted months, before I could pledge my heart without vomiting, and I will thank you not to harp on it.” Jason glared at Dalton. “Though I am loathe to concede, Everett is right—”

  “Oh, I love it when you say that.” Everett gave vent to a growl of triumph. “But I am no better, as I believed, in a moment of sheer lunacy, that I could win Sabrina without a declaration, and my err almost cost me everything I hold dear.”

  “But I have already told Daphne I love her.” Dalton rubbed the back of his neck. “Though I am not sure my emotions are so engaged, and I apprised her of that.”

  “What?” Dirk stiffened his spine. “You proclaimed your love and then q
ualified it?”

  “Yes.” Dalton leaned forward and rested elbows to thighs. “Why do you ask?”

  “How did she take it?” Jason queried. “As my Alex would have lopped off my—never mind. But she would have been a vast deal more than unhappy with me.”

  “Did you have to go there?” Everett shuddered. “The mere suggestion gives me collywobbles, as my Sabrina would have done the same thing.”

  “How do you mean?” Dalton shrugged. “Given Daphne gifted me her heart, she accepted my tempered pledge with unimpaired aplomb, though she has requested I inform her once I am assured of my feelings.”

  Slack-jawed, Dirk peered at Trevor, who glanced at Everett, who stared at Jason.

  “I have nothing.” With an owlish expression, Trevor blinked.

  “I am at a loss.” Everett retrieved his handkerchief and daubed his temples. “As such revelations defy the limits of perspicacity.”

  “And that was the coup de grâce in this group’s repertoire.” Jason snorted and glared at Trevor. “Now what do you suggest, Mr. ‘I am the veteran of four wicked campaigns?’”

  “Five, including yours.” Trevor held up a hand with fingers splayed. “And as I recall, you swept the pool, when it comes to self-made disasters.”

  “We are not here to discuss my courtship of Alex.” Smacking a fist to a palm, Jason scowled.

  “You call that a courtship?” Everett scoffed. “I have seen better pursuits from the Kleinfelds.”

  As his fellow Nautionnier knights argued the salient points of women, love, and relationships, Dalton mulled the situation regarding Daphne. Making his declaration worried him not, as he cared for her. But how would he know when his heart was engaged, given he hardly knew himself? After years of pretending to be something he was not, would he even recognize what remained of Dalton Randolph?