Scandalous Scions One

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Relieved the matter would be hashed out behind closed doors, the four of them got to their feet, picked up their cigars and their glasses and left. The door clicked shut and the tiny sound made Dalehouse cringe.

  He looked at Blackawton and swallowed.

  “You’ve been a naughty man, gambling with money you didn’t have,” Blackawton said. He blew cigar smoke in a thin stream from the corner of his mouth.

  How could Dalehouse explain how wrong this hand had gone? It wasn’t possible, in his experience, for two such top hands to be dealt in one round. It was unheard of. Yet it had happened despite the odds.

  “Perhaps we could come to some arrangement,” Dalehouse said weakly. “My estate brings in a steady monthly income. A portion of that—”

  “I don’t want your money,” Blackawton replied in his rich, deep voice.

  Dalehouse blinked. “You don’t?”

  Blackawton stubbed out the cigar. “Earlier this evening, you spoke about a Cambridge friend. Marblethorpe. You know him well?”

  “Not at all,” Dalehouse said, with a sinking sensation in his middle. “Not since Cambridge.”

  “Then you don’t know his family at all. His step-daughter, perhaps?”

  “Lady Lillian? No.” Dalehouse reached for the brandy snifter then pulled his hand back. He had drunk far too much of it tonight. What had he been thinking? Although the glass just seemed to refill itself every time he turned away….

  “You don’t know her, yet you know her name.” Blackawton sat back. “Do you perhaps know where she is?”

  Dalehouse wiped his brow, his heart thudding sickly. “No,” he said weakly.

  Blackawton didn’t move. “Understand me, Dalehouse. If you do not meet this debt you owe me, I will ruin you. I can see from the sheen of your brow you already understand how dire your situation is. I am offering you a simple way out of your contretemps. Tell me where I may find Lady Lillian and I will step out there and tell the club that you settled your debts honorably.”

  Dalehouse clutched his head and moaned.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It seemed quite ridiculous to rise after breakfast, don her bonnet and set out to walk upon the moors. So much had happened since the last time Lilly had strolled the hills that to return to that prosaic reality was difficult.

  Only, she understood far too thoroughly the necessity for keeping up appearances. As much as she wanted to find a quiet spot and hug herself while she went over every little detail of the last two days, she could not indulge herself that way.

  She had been forced to return to prosaic reality once before, seven years ago. She could do it again.

  Jasper appeared by her side as she set off, the walking staff in his hand. Her heart jumped. As Shelby was sitting on the bench absorbing the early morning sunlight while peeling potatoes, Lilly could say nothing. She made herself turn and begin.

  Walking fast seemed to help. She kept up the pace, across half-a-dozen valleys, until they reached a stile. The stile. Had she unconsciously directed herself here?

  She put her hand on the post, but couldn’t put her foot on the step. Her heart was hammering too hard.

  Jasper moved so he could see her face beneath the bonnet. “Is something wrong?”

  “We’re here again,” she said. Her lips felt numb.

  He touched her chin, his fingers gliding over her flesh. “We are not standing on the horizon for the world to see. This is as good a place to talk as any.”

  She looked up at him, startled. “Talk?”

  Jasper rested his hand on the stile, just above hers. “Did you think I would simply let you walk away after last night?”

  “Well…yes.”

  A shadow settled in his eyes. “You believe I would do that?”

  “No, of course not!” She pulled her hand away. “You said we couldn’t be together. You sat by the window and made sure I understood why. And I did understand.”

  “That was before,” he said shortly. “Now, everything has changed. I don’t know where we go from here. I only know we must find a way, because whatever I am, whatever is left of me, abandoning you is not part of it.”

  Lilly covered her face with her hands. “You can’t change your mind like that!”

  “I didn’t change my mind,” he said steadily. “Circumstances have changed.”

  “I didn’t…I didn’t come to you to make you do this!” she cried.

  He grew still. His eyes narrowed. “Then you did it out of pity?” His voice was low and quiet.

  “No! Never! Oh, this is impossible!” She turned away, trembling. “You don’t want me! You shouldn’t want me!”

  She heard the soft thud as he rested the walking staff against the stile. “Lilly.” He moved around her once more and lifted her chin. “Look at me. Please.”

  She could not stand there with her eyes closed forever. She opened them.

  His expression softened. “You persist in judging yourself by a harsher measure than anyone else in the world. Have you not paid enough, Lilly?”

  Her vision blurred. “A whole life time of purgatory would never be enough.” Her voice wobbled.

  “For a sin that was not yours in the first place?”

  “For killing my father!” she cried and choked. “I killed him! That night! Oh my God!” She wept at the agony of speaking it aloud.

  She was sinking down to the ground. Jasper was holding her, lowering her there, as her legs failed to hold her up. The memories were rushing at her and she could do nothing to stop them….

  * * * * *

  After Blackawton had pushed her from the carriage, Lilly stumbled and lurched from one pocket of black shadows to another, avoiding the light and exposure of her shame. She could feel moisture trickling down her legs, marking her downfall. The ache of torn flesh was another reminder.

  Somehow, she found her way back to the house on Park Lane. She couldn’t remember all of that journey, only details.

  She did remember resting against the heavy front door with its dark blue paint and the golden knocker. All she had to do was turn the handle. She had run out of strength.

  She rested her hand against the door. Somewhere on the long journey home, she had lost her glove.

  Just turn the handle.

  She reached down for the handle and had to push away the torn edges of her ball gown to find it. Another breath. She gripped the brass and turned.

  The door fell inward, thrust open by her weight against it. She staggered inside, then sank down onto the tiles. She could go no farther.

  Someone screamed.

  Lilly rolled onto her back. The floor was cold.

  “Corcoran! Oh my god! Seth! Seth! Come here! Now!”

  That was her mother’s voice.

  Hands were on her. Touching her. Lifting her up.

  “Her dress, my lady.” Corcoran’s wavering voice.

  “Pull her cloak around. Cover her up. Seth, oh dear God, Seth!”

  “Let me see. Let me see my daughter.” A hand on her face. She knew that scent. “Lilly, my sweet one. Look at me.”

  She poured her energy into opening her eyes. Her father bent over her, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deep as the furrow between his brows. “Who did this to ye, darlin’ one?” he murmured. “Tell me.”

  “Thorburn,” she breathed. Her throat hurt where Blackawton’s fingers had gripped it. “Alban Thorburn.”

  “Blackawton’s spawn,” Seth growled. “I’ll kill the son of a bitch.”

  “No, Seth,” her mother said shortly. “You must think it through. Later. First, help me get Lilly up off this floor. We must find a doctor. Someone who won’t talk. Seth…are you listening?”

  “Here, let me have her,” Seth said roughly.

  Lilly groaned as he scooped her up. He kissed her temple. “I’ve got ye,” he murmured. He carried her upstairs and put her on her bed. Her mother dropped a blanket over her.

  “Corcoran, ye be getting a doctor here right quick,” Set
h said, fury making his accent thicker. “I’m off to be chatting with the man.”

  “No, Seth,” her mother cried, scrambling up off the bed. “You must, please, you must rein in that temper of yours for one moment and think it through. If you make a fuss, if you make this public, then Lilly’s ruin and ours is complete. Think, my darling. Please. Think of Lilly. Think of the shame she will have to live with if this becomes public knowledge and it will if you involve anyone else in it.”

  “Ye want me to do nothing?” Seth shouted.

  “No, not nothing. This can’t be left unanswered. Only, we must tread carefully now. Blackawton is the son of royalty, Seth. We can’t gainsay him, not publicly. Not even you, with your rank. Please tell me you will think. Go and speak to Rhys. He will be able to lay it out for you. Let his cooler head guide you.”

  Lilly could almost see her father’s thoughtful expression, even though she didn’t have the strength to open her eyes. She lay and listened to her parents breathing hard, making decisions that would shape the future of the family.

  “Aye, I can do that,” Seth said at last.

  Her mother gave a trembling sigh. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “What would I do without you charting the shoals for me, love of my life?” he growled.

  “What would I do without you to carry me through it all?” Natasha whispered.

  Lilly heard the soft sound of a kiss.

  “I’ll go and see Rhys at once,” Seth said. “There is no way in God’s heaven I can wait until morning.”

  “Of course you must go,” her mother said. “Go ahead. I’ll take care of Lilly.”

  Lilly felt his lips on her forehead. “I’ll be back, my darlin’ daughter,” he whispered.

  The door shut behind him.

  Instantly, her mother came to her. “You must put up with my inadequate nursing, sweetheart. We can’t let the maids see. Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” Lilly breathed. “I’m so tired.”

  “Sleep if you want,” her mother said.

  Only, sleep was far, far away. She lay passively as her mother undressed her and tended her wounds, all of them, exclaiming over each one and crying softly. Corcoran alone of the staff was part of the conspiracy. He brought bowl after bowl of hot water, rags, whatever Natasha demanded of him, then silently emptied the pans out, without a murmur of complaint that the work was better suited to the lowest of maids.

  At last, the work was done. Natasha rolled Lilly onto a clean sheet and tucked the sheet in, then pulled the covers up over her. “Sleep if you can,” she murmured and kissed her temple.

  Lilly reached out blindly for her. “Don’t go,” she begged. “Don’t leave me alone.”

  Her mother caught her hand. “Of course not, my dear. Just let me pull the chair over, so I can sit right next to you.”

  That was how the rest of the night passed, with her mother holding her hand. Larks were sounding outside the window and her mother turned off the lantern next to her bed, when soft footsteps came up the passage outside her room. A hand tapped at the door.

  “Yes?” Natasha called.

  The door opened.

  “Rhys!” her mother said, alarm in her voice.

  The alarm, the note of panic, jerked Lilly from her doze. She pushed herself upright, her entire body protesting.

  Rhys stood with his back against the door. His face was pale. Blood showed on his shirt. As Lilly looked at him, his eyes glittered with tears.

  She had never seen a man cry before.

  “I’m sorry, ‘tasha. I’m sorry…Seth is…he’s dead,” Rhys whispered.

  Natasha moaned.

  Sound whooshed out of Lilly’s mind, like a whistling wind. Silence for three heart beats. Then a cacophony of sound—screaming, horrible screaming—slammed back into her, sending up sparks that blinded her.

  She knew nothing more.

  * * * * *

  “Rhys did everything he could to control my father,” Lilly whispered, her cheek against Jasper’s shoulder. “Only, no one was ever able to tell my father what to do when he’d made up his mind. My mother convinced him to keep the matter veiled and he did. He dragged Blackawton out of his bed and demanded satisfaction. Nothing short of killing Blackawton would satisfy him, though.”

  “A duel…” Jasper breathed.

  “They’re illegal, of course. However, if Blackawton had agreed to it and was killed as a result, then the whole matter would be hushed up by everyone, including his family, who would want the embarrassment washed away.”

  His arms tightened around her. “He shot your father, instead.”

  “Rhys said Blackawton fired early. My father was still turning. Any earlier and he would have taken the bullet in his back.” Lilly drew a breath that hiccupped. Her eyes were aching from the tears. “Rhys wanted to have him arrested and tried. Blackawton just laughed at him. His family had him on a boat bound for India inside the week.”

  Jasper shifted and bent a little so he could see her face. “Lilly, you didn’t kill Seth.”

  “I did,” she said woodenly. “I might as well have pulled the trigger myself. It had the same effect. What I did, my foolishness, let Blackawton do what he did, which set my father on the course he took. If not for me, they could have had Blackawton arrested and tried openly, for the world to see. Instead, my father had to deal with him in an underhanded way and that let Blackawton cheat and get away with it.”

  “He killed your father, Lilly. It was cold blooded murder, duel be damned. He ignored the rules of engagement, knowing your father would obey them.”

  Lilly shuddered and his arms tightened about her once more.

  “You don’t want me in your life, Jasper,” she whispered.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Elisa handed Will the long knife as everyone clapped and cheered. Will looked down at the cake and the wobbly writing on it.

  Happy birtday, William Wardell.

  He cocked his brow at little Annalies. “Did you write the inscription, Lisa Grace?”

  Peter, sitting next to her, nudged her and she sat up straighter and nodded, with a proud smile.

  “She’s going to be an artist when she grows up,” Peter announced, dropping his arm around his cousin.

  Annalies’ smile broadened. “Cut the cake, please!”

  Everyone around the big table clapped again. Will pushed the knife into the cake and bore down on the handle. It sliced cleanly and everyone clapped again.

  “May I say congratulations, my lord?” Paulson said, as he took the knife.

  “You may,” Will said and plopped in his chair and picked up the wine glass once more.

  “Twenty-one,” his mother said, raising her glass. “You’re getting too old for trouble, now, Will.”

  Will rolled his eyes. “Are you about to tell me I should find a wife and produce an heir?”

  “Why not?” his father said. He picked up Elisa’s hand. “I did just that when I was not much older than you.”

  “Mother had to practically trip you into it,” Will pointed out.

  Elisa’s eyes widened. “Ladies don’t trip people. How rude, Will!”

  Vaughn touched her arm, calming her. “Seriously, Will. You’re done with university now—”

  “For all the good it will serve,” Daniel said.

  “Whatever do you mean, Daniel?” Elisa said, as Paulson set a plate with a sliver of cake in front of her, while Haywood carried a tray of the slices down the length of the table for him.

  Daniel sat up and pushed his glass of punch away from him. “The atmosphere is so rarified—do you realize how little resemblance to real life their education is? It doesn’t teach you anything useful.”

  Vaughn’s face darkened. “A university education is exactly as broad and deep as you wish to make it.”

  “That’s the point. I don’t want it at all.”

  “Daniel!” his mother cried. “Of course you must finish your education!”

  “Unless
you want to work on the docks, or some other real occupation?” Vaughn asked, his voice dangerous quiet.

  Daniel threaded his hands together. “Actually, I intend to write.”

  “Write?” his mother asked blankly.

  “Journalism. Writing for the newspapers,” Daniel replied.

  Both his parents stared at him, his mother with horror.

  Emma came up to her mother’s chair and tugged on her arm. “Where’s Lilly?” she asked. “I want to give her a piece of cake!”

  Elisa swept the little girl onto her lap and held her, her gaze still on Daniel.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” his father said softly.

  Daniel sighed. His father meant he would try to talk him into changing his mind, later. His father was in for a surprise.

  * * * * *

  There was nothing else either of them could say, so the return walk back to the cottage was silent. Jasper held Lilly’s hand until they were too close to the big house and might be seen. Then he moved the proper two feet away.

  Lilly felt used up, like a lemon that had been squeezed to the pith. She had no more capacity to feel anything.

  Far away, on the other side of the bluff, they could hear rifle shots and horns and dogs barking. The hunt was continuing.

  They rounded the outcropping of the bluff that separated the cottage from the big house. Something whistled through the air and slammed into Jasper’s middle. He folded over and collapsed.

  Blackawton stepped out from the other side of the outcropping and dropped the long log in his hand to the ground. “Lillian, my love.”

  Horror rose up in her throat. Lilly gripped her skirts, turned and ran.

  She heard Blackawton’s heavy steps behind her, gaining and gasped out her terror. He was faster than her. It was inevitable that he catch her.

  He gripped her hair and yanked. She was jerked backward off her feet. She scrabbled at his hand, trying to take the pressure off her skull. She could feel some of her hair tearing from the roots.

  Blackawton turned her around to look at him. His muddy eyes were filled with happy anticipation. “Take this as a measure of my devotion to you,” he told her. “I have found you in the wilds. I can find you anywhere.”