by Joan Vincent
After removing his peruke and laying it on the table, Donatien stared down at the dwarf who clung to a heavy chair. “Untying Miss Vincouer was an unfortunate decision.”
Petit shuddered as the ship fell into the bottom of a wave. “I just—”
“You fool,” Donatien said as he peeled off an extension to his nose. “You will share Letu’s fate if you are not careful.”
Having seen the man thrown from the gig, Petit cringed.
“He will be missed,” Donatien said as he pulled his hand from his pocket. On one finger swung the golden necklace. “Letu had great finesse and was most persuasive when I needed information.” His eyes narrowed; he tossed the necklace onto the table.
Placing his thumb beneath the dwarf’s chin, Donatien forced Petit to look at him. “You are alive solely because of my pledge to our mother. Beware, brother. If you interfere again—” He drew a sharp fingernail across the dwarf’s throat. Then Donatien straightened and glanced out the porthole towards the shore. “If ever that woman crosses my path again she will learn I always fulfill my promise.”
* * *
Quentin didn’t see that the French sailors and many of the smugglers had been subdued nor that Medworth had separated them into small groups under heavy guard. He didn’t see his father’s wide relieved smile. He refused to see the duties that would take him away from Maddie before first light.
Then he saw Maddie. With a shout, Quentin bounded toward her.
With a glad cry, Maddie sped from Jenks’ side.
They crashed into each other’s arms, oblivious to everything and everyone.
Quentin crushed her to him, his relief overwhelming.
Maddie returned his embrace and his fierce kiss.
Lundin lurched to Jenks’ side near Margonaut.
“Blessed be God,” the batman told him with a hearty sigh. “I nev’r believed we’d live to see this.”
Clapping him on the back, Lundin grinned at the embracing couple. “A good night’s work has its reward.”
“Aye,” Jenks beamed. “The 15th Hussars t’would be proud.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Hart Cottage June 2nd Friday Morning
“I still cannot believe it all happened.”
Maddie vaguely heard Aunt Prissy repeat what she had already said a hundred times. She forced her thoughts from her husband to her aunt. “It is rather difficult to take it all in,” she agreed.
But she meant Quentin, not her rescue. It was just too difficult for Maddie not to think of Quentin’s reassuring strength, of the heat that filled her at the very thought of him, of the sensations evoked by the play of his lips over hers, of how his muscles rippled beneath her hand; of the hardness of his body against her soft curves.
Maddie wrenched her mind away from this treacherous track. She put down her fork with such force that it drew a concerned glance from her aunt.
The nightmare—all of the nightmares—are over, truly over, Maddie thought. She looked to her right at Jessamine who at that moment plopped the last of an iced cinnamon bun into her mouth. Maddie smiled affectionately and tousled her sister’s hair.
“When will Malcolm and our new brother come back?” Jessie asked as she chewed. She grinned at her sister’s frowned reprimand.
“This evening,” Margonaut answered for his daughter-in-law.
“Maddie, I hope you haven’t been worrying yourself about Malcolm,” he added.
“No, not a bit. I know Quentin will keep him safe.” She smiled, picturing her husband. A hand tightening on her shoulder instantly brought her gaze up. She looked over her shoulder. Disappointment welled when she saw it was Lundin who grinned down at her.
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Wool-gathering. I don’t know how that husband of yours is going to get a day’s work out of you,” he drawled.
Jessamine wiggled in her chair. “But Mr. Lundin, she won’t have to work. She’s a vi—vis something and will never have to work again. That’s what Ruth says.”
“Jessie,” Maddie exclaimed. Heat flared to her cheeks.
“Quite right, my child,” the earl agreed and chuckled. “Your sister is indeed Viscountess Broyal. And,” he winked at Jessamine, “she will one day be a countess.” He watched the blush on his daughter-in-law’s features darken and chuckled again.
“Your son has married the best miss in Kent,” Lundin commented. His grin broadened at Maddie’s deepening colour. “And one of the bravest ladies I have ever met.”
“I agree,” Margonaut nodded. “Pardon us, my dear. We do not mean to embarrass you, but it is all quite true.”
Ruth leaped into the silence that fell. “Do tell us about how brave Maddie was. All about what happened at Limes Point. Please do, my lord. Everyone told a different part of the story. It made no sense.”
“His lordship can satisfy your curiosity after I have a word with him,” Lundin told Ruth. “It will take just a moment, my lord.”
“Can you not speak here?” the earl asked as he laid aside his napkin.
Maddie looked over her shoulder at Henry’s familiar hulking strength. “What is it?” she asked.
Lundin looked to the earl who nodded permission.
“A soldier arrived a short time ago,” the steward explained. “A body was found washed up some distance from Limes Point, no doubt carried there by the currents. The man was of medium height, had a swarthy complexion, and coarse clothing. We think it is the Frenchman Letu. He must have been the one who was thrown out of the gig.”
“The person who kidnapped Jessamine and Malcolm?” asked Miss Benton, a hand to her heart.
Concern narrowed Maddie’s eyes. “You cannot mean to have Jessie identify the body,” she protested.
“No, Quentin or Malcolm can do that later today when they return.” Seeing her frown, Henry added, “Or the Baron de la Croix can take a look when he returns from London.”
Miss Benton gasped. “But it will be days before André comes back.”
Lundin nodded agreement. “I told them to put the body in the ice cellar in Hayward.”
“How very unpleasant this all has been,” Pricilla sighed. Then with more cheer, “Mr. Lundin, have you broken your fast?”
Henry put a hand on his stomach. “The fragrance of Corrie’s buns drew me to the kitchen when I first arrived this morn.
“That reminds me of another task I would like to finish before Lord Broyal’s return.” Lundin put his hand back on Maddie’s shoulder. “When can we go through the rest of your father’s papers, my lady?”
She wrinkled her nose at the still unfamiliar address. “Let us meet in father’s office at one.”
“Then I bid all of you good morn,” Lundin said. He gave a pale imitation of one of de la Croix’s flourishes. “I will meet with you at one, Lady Broyal,” he finished, patted her shoulder, and left.
“Now, please tell us what happened on the beach?” Helene requested. “From start to finish?”
“As you recall,” Margonaut began, “Baron de la Croix—quite a handsome hero do you not agree, Ruth,” he teased, and continued without a pause. “He ki—” at Miss Benton’s slight frown he amended, “after he joined those moving the gold ingots he lured a French sailor away from Maddie. Did any of you see one of the ingots before they were taken by my son and Captain Medworth?”
Only half hearing the conversation, Maddie thought of Petit as she had first seen him. It seemed so long ago and such a minor thing. What would have happened to me if Ruth hadn’t seen the boys teasing him?
No, she thought, think about André. Even in the French sailor’s rough garb he was handsome and gallant. No wonder Ruth and Helene giggle every time he speaks to them. He must be near Jamey’s age.
Jamey? If only André brought good news from London about him. Prepare for the worst, she told herself.
Lord Broyal. Viscount Broyal. His title still aroused an anxiety that she was inadequate, made Maddie wonder how she could ever be a proper viscountess much les
s a countess.
Quentin, she thought instead. She pictured her husband in her father’s bed as she tended his wounds and then in his regimentals. She recalled with clarity the morning de la Croix brought news of Malcolm and Jessamine’s rescue. Quentin’s broad, sculpted form before her, gloriously nude.
Helene gripped Maddie’s hand. “That was when André shot the man who kidnapped Malcolm and Jessamine?”
“I—I do not know,” Maddie said. She tried to assume a serious mien, “Young ladies do not discuss such matters.”
“Didn’t Jamey go to Spain to shoot the French?” Ruth asked.
“Well, yes, but—”
“I think it time the young ladies show me those pups again,” Margonaut saved her. “You have not seen them, have you, Jessamine?”
The little girl jumped up. “Can I go, Maddie?”
Looking around the table at the eager faces, she agreed. It would give her time to put her thoughts in order before her husband’s return from Ashworth where he had gone with Captain Medworth. They were to hand over the gold, their prisoners, and deliver reports. Maddie sighed. What would the future bring?
* * *
Hart Cottage Late Friday Afternoon
Henry closed the last account book and placed it atop the others. “That should be the last item, my lady. I will turn these over to Viscount Broyal.”
“But why—” Maddie began to protest.
“As your husband he is now Malcolm and the girls’ guardian,” Henry answered sympathetically.
Maddie heard his regret. “You cannot think he will be a poor manager?”
“No, of course not,” Henry returned. “But after all this time won’t you find it a little strange—”
“To give up the authority?” Maddie finished. She shook her head. “I will still be responsible for the girls and for ... for my husband’s household.”
“Your father would be very proud of you,” Henry told her, “for how well you have kept your promise to him.” He cleared his throat.
“I’ll keep an eye on whomever Lord Broyal puts in my place.” He shook his head at her immediate protest. “’Tis common practice for a lord to put his own man in charge of the properties for which he is responsible. All of our lives are going to be different. Surely you’ve thought of that?”
“Yes.” Maddie stood and walked to the west window. “It just is so very strange after all these months of worrying about Father and about how to fob off Sanford.”
“You needn’t ever think of that scoundrel again,” Lundin assured her. “We were very lucky Broyal thought of a way out of the pretence you manufactured. I could see nothing but disaster the night you made me bring him to your father’s chamber, what with him looking for all the world like a free trader. You don’t know how I cursed the Vincouer stubbornness that night.”
“I’ll try to see that it does not cause you further trouble, Henry. You’ve been far too good a friend to be treated shabbily. No one will replace you here,” she assured him.
From the doorway Quentin asked, “Why do you think Lundin will be replaced?” Sauntering in, he continued. “Henry has served your family very well and me also. Do you think I am so shabby a fellow as to dismiss him?”
“My lord,” Henry began.
“Think no more of it, either of you. Lundin, we will meet over the next few days. You can tell me what the lawyers must attend to but you will go on much as you have,” Quentin guaranteed him.
“The gold is back in government hands at Ashford. Probably on its way to regions unknown by now. Quentin looked from the steward to his wife, “Have I interrupted?”
“No, we are finished,” Maddie said, suddenly self-conscious.
“Then may I have a few words with Mr. Lundin?”
“Of—of course.” Maddie gave herself a stern mental shake.
Quentin wondered how she could stand there so close, so calmly while his blood raced at the sight of her. He wished to perdition the necessity of speaking with Lundin. But he followed her matter-of-fact lead and merely bowed when she walked past.
Taking the chair Maddie had used, Quentin motioned for the steward to sit. He ran a hand through his hair. Meeting the steward’s ill-concealed grin, he returned it. “Has everything returned to normal here?”
“More so than they have been for many a month, thanks to you, my lord.”
“No, my thanks to you for keeping my wife and her family safe. It could not have been easy. I hope to do as good a job,” Quentin told him. “I meant it when I said you would not be replaced.
“I haven’t had an opportunity to speak with my wife,” he paused savouring the last two words, “but I imagine we shall keep the girls with us and Malcolm, too, when he is not at school. What would you think of the boy coming here during the summer months to learn his duties?”
“That would be most wise, my lord,” Lundin answered. “The estate would be much better for it when he comes of age. We can see to the details later. You must be tired.”
“Just glad to have the business done. Have there been any hints of discovery about the truth of Mr. Vincouer’s death?”
“Not a word, nor will there be. Not with all the excitement with the abductions and the gold. That is all everyone talks about with never a thought for poor Mr. Matthew. Thank you for that, my lord.”
Quentin rose and put out his hand.
Lundin shook it. “By the by, I have found no one who knows anything about a portly balding gentleman dealing in free trade. No one will even admit to having ever seen him.
“The only thing new is the body discovered this morning. Looks to be the Frenchman the baron shot. It was put on ice in Hayward until you decide if Malcolm should identify it. Miss—Lady Broyal implied she would not like that.”
Quentin frowned. “I’ll speak with her. I doubt he’ll take well to being treated as a child.”
“Do you know what your plans are, my lord? Are there preparations I need attend?”
“I have not thought that far yet. We will remain here at least until de la Croix returns. Then we’ll see.”
Lundin walked with him to the door. “If he brings word of Master James safety all will be right with the world at Hart Cottage once again.”
“Did she regard him highly?” Quentin asked.
Seeing the sudden grimness in Broyal’s eyes, Lundin understood. “He is like a brother to her,” the steward said firmly. “Never anything more.”
* * *
Friday Evening
Quentin, distracted by Maddie’s scent and by her closeness beside him at the dinner table, caught only the last of his father’s question. He hoped he had heard enough to give a sensible answer.
“Yes, I believe everything is at an end,” he began cautiously. “Medworth will look into Porteur’s involvement with Lambert in hopes of discovering others connected to the plot. I think the Frenchman was too clever to leave clues lying around. After all, Lambert is dead. I wrote as much in my report to Castlereagh,” he ended.
Helene whispered across the table. “Malcolm, was going to Ashford very exciting?”
“Not at all,” he replied, but his sparkling eyes denied this. “I spent a damme—” his eyes flicked to his youngest sister, “a large amount of time kicking my heels while Quentin, I mean, Lord Broyal, spoke with the commander at Ashford.”
“Who also visited with Malcolm,” Quentin added. “Your brother gave them excellent descriptions of the abductors. He showed he could keep his head about him at a very difficult time. He took good care of you, Jessamine.”
Maddie watched the blush rise across Malcolm’s features but knew he was pleased at the praise. She too, was grateful for her husband’s words. How very different her brother’s treatment would have been if Sanford now sat in Quentin’s place.
Jessie looked at her brother. “Are you going to look at the dead body?”
“That is not a topic for the supper table, young lady,” Maddie gently scolded her.
Maves’ ent
ry with the port decanter signalled the end of the meal. Maddie led the ladies from the table.
After the gentlemen joined the ladies the evening passed as many others, except for the curious glances at Quentin and his bride. The girls enjoyed a game of Twenty Questions while the adults visited, read, or plied their needles.
The tension of avoiding Quentin played on Maddie’s nerves as much as the question as to why he stayed away from her. She was almost grateful when Aunt Prissy hinted it was time for everyone to retire. Looking at her husband, Maddie saw the question in his eyes. Nervous, she stood. “I will have Maves bring you gentlemen a fresh bottle.” She curtsied to Margonaut.
“Good night, my lord.” With a quick nod at Quentin, she took Aunt Prissy’s arm. Together they walked from the room.
Much later, the earl, restraining a smile, looked at his son over the top of his wine glass. For some time he had observed Quentin staring at the door. “Do you expect Castlereagh to make any more demands on your time?”
Quentin gave himself a shake. “Pardon, my lord, what was that?”
“Castlereagh?” Margonaut prompted.
“I’ve finished what I said I would do. I have no desire for more, family obligations being what they are,” he answered, his seriousness lessened by a wry smile.
“What do you mean to do with all of this family?”
“I won’t know until I speak with Maddie. We have not yet had much chance of that, or anything else.” Quentin looked to the door once again.
The earl cleared his throat to disguise a chuckle. “I think the half hour she’s been gone would suit. It has been some time, but I believe I could force myself to go over the—”
“What Father? A half hour?” Quentin glanced at his parent. He looked startled and then chuckled ruefully. “Please, say no more.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Maddie stared into the dressing table’s mirror. She bit her lip, wished she had something other than a mere lawn night rail for this night. Even with the fine embroidery on the bodice and the lace at throat and sleeve, she could not believe it would be—