Tender Rebel

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Tender Rebel Page 28

by Johanna Lindsey

“Dinna touch her!” Geordie commanded.

  Roslynn turned on him furiously. “Shut up, Geordie! Do you ken what my husband will do to you when he finds out about this? You’d look bonny right now by comparison if he gets his hands on you again.”

  Wilbert and Thomas didn’t miss the significance of that “again,” but they were done listening to Geordie anyway. They might have killed a few men in their time, but they had never harmed a woman before. They hadn’t liked this job to begin with, and wouldn’t have taken it if the Scot hadn’t offered what was a bleeding fortune to them.

  Wilbert stepped forward and cut Roslynn’s bonds with her own dirk. Flipping the blade over in his hand, he handed it to her, but was quick to step back out of her way.

  Roslynn was amazed it had been so easy, since she hadn’t been at all sure the two ruffians would obey her. But they had, and she felt infinitely better already. And she had obviously guessed right, or Geordie would have gotten them their money before she was cut loose. Instead, he had sat down on the bed, holding his ribs, warily watching all three.

  “How much?” she demanded as she stood up.

  “Thirty pounds, m’lady.”

  She spared a contemptuous glance for her cousin. “You’re cheap, Geordie. It seems you could have offered a bit more to two such dependable fellows.”

  “I might have, if they’d have gotten ye afore that bastard married ye!” he spat out.

  She clucked her tongue, feeling rather good about having miraculously gotten the upper hand in the confrontation she had so dreaded. Reaching into the reticule that was still tied to her wrist, she took out a handful of money.

  “This will do, I believe, gentlemen.” She handed the notes to Wilbert.

  Both brothers’ eyes gleamed at what amounted to nearly fifty pounds. Wilbert glanced at her reticule. Roslynn intercepted his look, stiffening.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she warned. “And if you don’t want to end up looking like him”—she nodded toward Geordie—“you’ll never let me see you again.”

  They both grinned at the little woman threatening them. But they had been paid enough. If the Scot hadn’t been mashed to a pulp, they would have gotten in a few licks themselves for all his insults. As it was, they were satisfied and, with grinning nods, left.

  They stopped grinning, however, at the top of the stairs. Coming up them was the same gent whose house they had been watching for the past ten days, the same gent who was undoubtedly now the lady’s husband. He didn’t look menacing, didn’t even spare them a glance as he slowly mounted the stairs, and yet neither brother could get out of his mind the Scot’s condition that this man was responsible for.

  Wilbert pulled his knife, just to feel safe, though he palmed it close to his thigh. That would have been the end of it if the nabob wasn’t deceptive in his nonchalance. He had in fact noticed the knife and stopped. They both heard him sigh before he spoke.

  “Bloody hell. Come along, then, and let’s get this over with.”

  Wilbert glanced once at Thomas before they both charged as one. Their attack didn’t turn out as they had expected, however. The nobleman stepped out of the way at the last second, putting his back to the wall, and with one foot extended, Thomas went tumbling down the rest of the stairs. And before Wilbert knew what was happening, he had lost his knife. Seeing it in the noble’s hand, he tore down the stairs himself, collected a groaning Thomas up from the floor, and dragged them both out of the building.

  Upstairs in the room, Roslynn was pacing furiously before an embittered Geordie. “There are no’ enough dirty, loathsome, vile names for what you are, Geordie Cameron. It’s shamed I am, you carry that name. You’ve never brought anything good to it, have you now?”

  “And ye have, have ye?”

  “Shut up, mon! Because of you I’m married now. Because of you I had to get married, when that was no’ what I was wanting, at least no’ this way!”

  “And ye’ve lost it all, havena ye, ye stupid fool!” he shot back at her. “And I’m glad, do ye hear? If I canna have the Cameron wealth, at least I’m knowing he’s tricked ye oout of it as well!”

  Roslynn stopped short, glaring at him. “What are you blathering about?”

  “He told me he burned yer marriage contract,” Geordie replied in what passed for a laugh. “The wily bastard’s got it all now, and ye wouldna even be getting it back if he died, ’cause he’s leaving it all tae his own kin. Nice husband ye’ve shackled yerself wi’, cousin.”

  She almost laughed, but if Anthony had gone to the trouble to tell Geordie that lie, she wouldn’t take it back. It was brilliant, really, in making Geordie think his chance was forever lost.

  “I’d still rather have him than you, cousin.”

  He tried getting up at that slur. He moaned loudly, falling back on the bed. Roslynn goaded him further, not in the least sympathetic.

  “You should have left when you had the chance, Geordie. There willna be much left of you if my husband finds out you’re still here. He’s no’ a man to trifle wi’, as you’ve found out. But you deserve it for trying to kill him.”

  “I was only trying tae scare him into forsaking ye. I didna know then ye’d married the mon. But he only hit me a few times fer shooting at him. The rest was all fer ye. And I’ll have ye know, I couldna even get up off the floor where he’d left me until this morning.” This was said in what sounded very much like a whine. “But ye can see fer yerself that I was leaving, sae ye’ve nae tales tae take tae that bloody Spartan.”

  Spartan? Yes, she supposed Anthony could at times be likened to that austere race known for its strict discipline and military prowess, but only in the lightest sense. His self-control might be absolutely maddening when he chose to use it, but when he didn’t, he was as hot-tempered as any Scot. And look at what he had done to Geordie, without getting even a scratch in the process. Poor Geordie looked like he had been trampled by a horse, not merely beaten by a man’s fists.

  “I wasn’t going to tell Anthony, not if you really are leaving,” she conceded.

  “Ye’re all heart, lass.”

  It was impossible to mistake the bitter sarcasm, and her outrage shot to the fore again. “If you’re expecting me to feel sorry for you, Geordie, I mun disappoint you. I just canna do it, no’ after all you’ve done. You tried to hurt me!”

  “I loved ye!”

  The words were like a rope around her throat, choking off her breath. Was it possible? He had said that often enough over the years, but she had never believed him. Why did it have a ring of truth to it this time? Or had he deluded himself into thinking it was so?

  Quietly, actually afraid of the answer, she demanded, “If that’s true, Geordie, then tell me about my mother. Did you put a hole in her boat?”

  His head came off the bed, followed more slowly by the rest of his body. “Why did ye no’ ask me when it mattered, Ros, when it happened? Why did the auld mon never ask? Nae, I never tampered wi’ her boat. I was down by the loch finding worms tae put in cook’s stew. That was as close as I ever came tae those boats.”

  “But your face when you were told? We all saw you were horrified.”

  “Aye, because I’d wished her dead, fer boxing my ears that morning. I didna mean it, but I thought my wish had been granted. I felt I was tae blame.”

  Roslynn felt sick to her stomach. All these years, they’d blamed him for something he didn’t do. And he knew what they thought but never spoke up to defend himself, just harbored his resentment unto himself. It didn’t make him a nicer person in her eyes, but it made him innocent of any real crime.

  “I’m sorry, Geordie, I really am.”

  “But ye still wouldna have married me, would ye, knowing the truth?”

  “No. And you shouldn’t have tried to force me.”

  “A mon will do anything when he’s desperate.”

  For love or money? She didn’t ask. But she wondered if her grandfather’s will might have been different if he had known the t
ruth. Somehow, she didn’t think so. He had always despised Geordie’s weakness, an unforgivable trait for a man of Duncan’s strength of character. She wasn’t that uncharitable. And she had to salve her conscience for blaming Geordie for her mother’s death, which she now realized must have been no more than a freak accident.

  She would leave him the money in her reticule that had been intended to pay her bills. Ten thousand pounds wasn’t much compared with what she had, but it would be a start for Geordie. And maybe he could do something with it to make his own way, instead of always looking for the easy road that cost him nothing and made him weaker.

  Roslynn turned around to remove the money without his seeing. She would leave it where he wouldn’t find it until she had gone.

  “I’ll help you pack, Geordie.”

  “Dinna do me any favors.”

  She ignored the bitterness and moved to the bureau, where several articles of clothing still remained in an open drawer. She gathered them up and slipped the money between the clothes before dropping the pile in his valise. It was a mistake to have gotten that close. His hand snaked out, wrapping around her wrist.

  “Ros—”

  The door opened and she was freed, never to know what Geordie had been about to say. She would like to think it might have been an apology for all he’d put her through. It didn’t matter at the moment, not with Anthony’s presence filling the room.

  “With as quiet as it got, I was afraid you might have killed each other.”

  She didn’t question why he was there, not just then. “Eavesdropping at doors seems to be a habit of yours, my lord.”

  He didn’t deny it. “A useful one, and most times fascinating.”

  That “most times” referred to his eavesdropping on her and Frances, she knew, and he didn’t like what he had overheard then. But there wasn’t much he could have overheard this time to annoy him. He might look stern, but by now she knew the difference. He was angry, but not that angry. In fact, it could just be a carryover from last night.

  “He’s leaving, as you can see,” she said, walking toward her husband.

  “And you came to say good-bye?” Anthony replied dryly. “How thoughtful of you, my dear.”

  She wasn’t going to be baited. “If you’ve come to take me home, I thank you. I find myself without a ride.”

  She hoped that that would do it, that he wouldn’t direct his attention to Geordie now and start a scene that she would be forced to witness. She didn’t particularly want to see Anthony in the mood that could have brought about what he’d already done to Geordie. His level stare made her hold her breath. And then he directed that intense look to Geordie. Roslynn knew her cousin must be trembling in mortal fear.

  “I’ll be gone wi’in the hour,” Geordie volunteered.

  Anthony’s nerve-racking stare lasted a moment longer. Then he nodded curtly and led Roslynn out the door. His hand on her elbow was impossible to break loose from, so she gave up after one try. Outside, there was no carriage, just his horse being held by a street urchin.

  Roslynn decided to attack before he could. “What were you doing back here?”

  “Come to see you home, of course.”

  “Making sure he was gone, you mean, since you couldn’t possibly know I’d be here.”

  “That too.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Did you know?”

  “Not until I heard you tearing into the poor man with all the vile, loathsome, and despicable names you never got around to calling him.”

  So he had been outside the door from the beginning. Had she said anything he shouldn’t have heard? No, she didn’t think so—not this time. But she was still annoyed.

  “You would have been better served to have ferreted out his men, who had still been watching the house—from the park, no doubt. They followed me to the bank and—”

  “Yes, Jeremy did mention that was your destination. Imagine my surprise to find you here instead.”

  He said it as if he didn’t believe her. “Hell’s teeth, Anthony! I didn’t know where he was, so how could I have found him even if I’d wanted to, which I didn’t? Those dolts he hired hadn’t been told yet that he’d given up.”

  “Plausible,” was all he said as he tossed the youth a coin and mounted his stallion.

  She glared at the hand he leaned over to offer her. Sitting next to him all the way home was not very enticing at the moment. She would have preferred to find a hack but saw none on the street.

  She took his hand and found herself sitting between his legs, her own draped over his thigh. Color rose swiftly to her cheeks as she was forced to put her arms around him. It was a disconcerting ride, one that brought vividly to mind her main dilemma. Surrounded by his warmth, her nostrils filled with his scent, she could think only about how to get out of the bargain she had struck with him and back into his bed without any stipulations at all.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  The ride to Piccadilly seemed to take forever, and yet it wasn’t nearly long enough. A hazy kind of euphoria had settled over Roslynn. With no words to distract her, just the steady gait of the horse, the steady beat of Anthony’s heart next to her ear, it was easy to forget reality and float in a cocoon of contentment.

  So it was quite jarring to be placed on her feet and have her plaguey problems recalled. The suddenness of it left Roslynn disoriented for a moment. In fact, she stared at the crumpled envelope lying at her feet for a good fifteen seconds before she realized what it was and reached for it. Anthony’s hand came up the victor.

  Roslynn groaned inwardly, having forgotten all about those stupid bills. To have one fall out of her skirt pocket was bad enough. To have Anthony retrieve it was the worst luck. And it was too much to hope he would just hand it back to her. He didn’t. He opened it!

  “Anthony!”

  He shot her a glance with one dark, winged brow arched. “It’s addressed to me,” was all he said.

  She started to walk into the house, as if that would end the matter. His hand on her arm detained her while he still perused the paper in his other hand.

  When he spoke, his voice sounded merely curious. “Might I ask what you’re doing with this?”

  She could see no way out and turned to face him. “It’s for some of the furniture I bought.”

  “I can see what it’s for, my dear. I asked what you’re doing with it.”

  “I was going to pay it. That’s why…”

  Her words trailed off as she saw his eyes drift down to her pocket. She followed his gaze and saw another envelope poking out. The bloody ride had worked them loose. And before she could say another word, Anthony’s hand was in her pocket and pulling out the rest of the bills.

  “You were going to pay these too?”

  She nodded, but he wasn’t looking at her, so she choked the word out. “Yes.”

  “Then wouldn’t it have been appropriate to have them billed to you instead of me?”

  She didn’t understand why he was being so calm about this. “I—I meant to, but I forgot.”

  “No, you didn’t,” he replied, making her heart sink, only to confuse her by adding, in what was unmistakable amusement, “You’re not very good at bargaining, my dear. I could have found these items for half the price you paid for them.”

  He stuffed the bills into his own pocket, annoying her, because it was just what she would have expected him to do. “Those are my purchases,” she reminded him.

  “They grace my house.”

  “I bought them,” she insisted. “I’ll bloody well pay for them.”

  “No, you won’t. You had no intention of paying for them to begin with, so let’s just leave it as it is, shall we?”

  He was smiling at her. Smiling! “Don’t be stub-born about this, Anthony. You have enough creditors already. I want to pay for what I—”

  “Be quiet, sweetheart,” he interrupted, his hands resting on her shoulders. “I suppose I shouldn’t have let you go on thinking I was just strugglin
g by, but you were having so much fun trying to put me in debt, I didn’t want to spoil it.” He chuckled when she lowered her eyes guiltily, and lifted her chin back up. “The truth is, you could have redecorated a hundred households, and I wouldn’t have raised a brow.”

  “But you can’t be rich!”

  He laughed delightedly. “It pays to have a brother who is a genius where money is concerned. Edward has a golden touch, you might say. And he handles the family’s finances with our blessings. If the town house still doesn’t suit you after all the trouble you’ve gone through to redo it, I have several estates in the outlying vicinity, as well as in Kent, Northampton, Norfolk, York, Lincoln, Wiltshire, Devon—”

  “Enough!”

  “Are you so disappointed I didn’t marry you for your money, my dear?”

  “You’ve still got some of it, as per the marriage contract. I put the money into an account for you this morning.” There, at least that was out of the way.

  So was his amusement. “You’ll take yourself back to the bank and put it in a trust for our children. And as long as we’re on this subject, I support you, Roslynn. Your clothes, your jewels, anything that adorns your body, I pay for.”

  “And what am I supposed to do with my money?” she demanded sharply.

  “Anything you like, as long as it’s nothing to do with clothing, food, or shelter, or what is my prerogative to buy you. You might do well to discuss with me first what you decide to spend your money on. We just might avoid future arguments in that way.”

  Her independent spirit was infuriated. Her woman’s heart was delighted. And that word “children” kept buzzing in her head. It implied an eventual end to their difficulties, though she couldn’t see that end in sight.

  “If this discussion is going to continue, shouldn’t we take it inside?”

  Anthony grinned at her neutral tone. He had made his point, and his earlier pleasure that she had given up her spite against him returned. For whatever reason, it was a peace offering, and he could make one too. That what he had in mind was more of a necessity after that close ride with her was just plain luck.

 

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