The Beauty and the Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Hamilton, Hanna

  “They all admitted it. Timothy Jones confessed that he pulled his knife in the heat of things, in a panic, knowing the sound of the shot would bring you, me, the entire household on top of them. They panicked.”

  “It still makes it assault with an attempt to kill under my roof.”

  “Mob mentality.”

  Latham leaned over to peer into the suite, only a single lamp was lighting the dark bedchamber. Archie already knew what he saw – Cornelia in the bed, Mrs. Cates watching over her. “Any word?” Latham asked.

  Archie shook his head. “I’m not allowed in there and Mrs. Cates says nothing.”

  “If she gave Miss Hill the pistol, where did she get it?”

  “I haven’t asked that question yet.”

  Though he stared at the wall across from him, Archie felt Latham’s eyes on him. “You should rest,” Latham told him gently. “You’re still recovering, too.”

  “I’m staying here.”

  “Very well then. My Lord.”

  Latham rose from his squatting position and went down the hall to the stairs and vanished. Archie did not bother to watch him go, just continued to gaze at the wall, yet his mind turned inward. Some wonderful promise I made. Protect her from Barrett and that buyer, but cannot protect her inside my own home. Some noble lord you are.

  Time passed slowly as Archie wallowed in the things he could have or should have done differently for Cornelia. Footsteps returning made him glance up reflexively, only to see Latham arriving up the stairs with a tray. “I’m not hungry,” Archie said, turning his attention to his inward thoughts and self-castigation.

  “Oh, I didn’t bring just food, though I would encourage you to try some.”

  Lowering the tray to the floor, Latham sat down beside him and poured whiskey from a decanter into tumblers. “I may as well sit here with you, have a bit to drink, perhaps a bit of food.”

  He handed a glass to Archie, then lifted his own. “To Miss Hill.”

  Archie clicked tumblers with him and sipped the golden liquid. It burned his throat, but still tasted wonderful going down. It soothed him, loosened up some of the tension in his gut, turned some of this thoughts outward rather than inward. At last he eyed the pieces of roast beef, bread, sausage, biscuits, cut fruits, and baked tarts.

  Picking up bread and beef, he munched thoughtfully. “What do you think I should do with them?”

  Latham shrugged. “That is a hard one as they truly didn’t intend to harm her, and things spiraled out of control. That does not excuse them, but Miss Hill was the one who pulled the weapon.”

  “Out of fear for her life. She had no way of knowing they intended only to frighten her into leaving.”

  “Very true. I did not say that to cast blame, only to add perspective. Perhaps when she wakes up, you may ask her what she thinks should be done with them.”

  “If I know her at all,” Archie replied with a snort. “She will immediately ask me to forgive them.”

  “That in itself is not a bad idea.”

  Archie eyed Latham sharply while biting into his bread and meat. “What do you mean?”

  Latham chuckled. “They are chained in the cellar, My Lord, sweating, frightened out of their minds that you will decide to hang them for this. Think about it – what worse punishment can you give them than what they’re enduring? If you make them sweat a while, then inform them they may return to their duties, but on a probationary basis, they will be so very grateful. If they even look sideways at Miss Hill, then they are dismissed.”

  Archie nodded thoughtfully. “It might make them grateful enough to become very loyal servants.”

  “Or perhaps Miss Hill’s advocates.”

  “You think this will turn them around toward her? Even if she asks me to let them return to their duties?” Archie shook his head. “I think they’ll build up more resentment toward her.”

  “Not from what I saw down in the cellar,” Latham argued with a grin. “They all but begged me to tell you that if they can come back to work, they will do their utmost to help Miss Hill adjust to being here.”

  “It won’t last.”

  “Perhaps not. But it’s worth a try? Yes?”

  Archie pushed a plate toward Latham. “Take that into Mrs. Cates, will you? She won’t let me inside a single step.”

  “And she’ll let me?”

  “You were already in there with Miss Hill, so I doubt Mrs. Cates will throw a tantrum regarding you.”

  Latham rose and took the plate of food into the near darkened room, then returned quickly, all but running, skidding across the tiles. “She snarled at me,” Latham said, gazing over his shoulder at the room before sitting down again. “She is a very frightening woman when she’s riled up.”

  “She threatened to shoot me,” Archie sighed. “Who is in charge of this place?”

  “Mrs. Cates, I expect. Until Miss Hill is well again, of course, then maybe she’ll settle down into being a housekeeper again.”

  “I rather doubt it. Once a woman sees a man cowed, she’ll never cease until she sees all men cowed.”

  “Cynic.”

  “Realist.”

  With the help of the food and whiskey, Archie dozed on and off through the rest of the night, Latham beside him, leaning against the wall. Blinking, he discovered that the darkness around him had turned to grey as the sun slowly lightened the sky outside. With a jolt, he looked up to see Mrs. Cates staring down at him.

  “She’d like to see you.”

  His legs and back sore, with his bruises waking to shout their displeasure at his movement, Archie climbed stiffly to his feet. Latham also woke with a snort, rubbing his eyes and stretching as Mrs. Cates eyed Archie up and down. “You are hardly presentable,” she sniffed, observing his still open shirt, trousers, and bare feet.

  With a sigh, Archie followed Mrs. Cates into the room.

  “Just for a moment,” she warned him as he crept closer to the bed.

  There was enough light in the chamber for him to see Cornelia clearly as she lay in the bed with the covers drawn up to her chin, her violet eyes warm as she watched him approach. “Archie,” she whispered.

  Archie knelt beside her as she fumbled her right arm out from under the bed clothes to reach for his hand. He took it, and caressed her knuckles with his thumb. “You are going to be fine,” he murmured, smiling a little. “My fierce angel.”

  “Forgive them, Archie.”

  He gazed into her eyes, seeing her confidence, her willpower, her determination to find good in people despite the evils done to her. Bending his head, he kissed her hand. “Perhaps. Now you get your rest. I need you.”

  Cornelia dipped her chin once in a brief nod. “Come back.”

  “I will.”

  Mrs. Cates tapped him on the shoulder and waved him toward the door. As she ushered him out, she said, “Please send up a cleaning maid to clean these rooms. There’s blood everywhere, she needs the bed linens changed, this rug needs to be burned –”

  “You do realize you’re giving me orders?” Archie complained as she pushed him from the chamber.

  Mrs. Cates scowled. “And have a kitchen wench bring up hot broth for Miss Hill.”

  “Mrs. Cates –”

  She slammed the door in his face. Latham chuckled. “Yes, you’re still Lord here and she’ll be back to normal one day.”

  Archie glared at him. “She gave me an order.”

  “Actually, I heard three of them.”

  “Can you believe that? She told me what to do.”

  “And I think you should obey her before she threatens to shoot you again. My Lord.”

  Chapter 16

  Cornelia spent the next few days in a laudanum-induced stupor, waking long enough to drink hot broth and herbal tea, eat perhaps some bread or pudding, then nod back to sleep again. Effie arrived to assist Mrs. Cates with her care, but neither woman left her side save to use the privy. Archie was permitted in for short visits, and Cornelia suspected it was only d
ue to his rank as the Earl of Rochester that gave him access to her rooms at all.

  She giggled under her breath when she heard him address Mrs. Cates as “you damn dragon”. The ‘dragon’ permitted Archie to obtain Cornelia’s version of what happened that day between her and the other servants. He also learned how Cornelia came by the pistol and how Mrs. Cates taught her to use it.

  “I’m glad you did, Mrs. Cates,” Archie commented, as though trying to appease the woman. Mrs. Cates merely gazed at him, unsmiling.

  By her fourth day, she was more coherent as Effie insisted her laudanum intake be reduced. Cornelia rolled carefully onto her right side in order for her bandage to be changed and her wound cleaned. “You shouldn’t talk to him like that,” she said as Mrs. Cates sat on the bed beside her to peel away the old linen wrap and inspect the wound for infection.

  “Who, dear?” Mrs. Cates asked absently, leaning over her to dab a healing ointment on her sutures.

  “His Lordship.”

  “Bah.” Mrs. Cates snorted. “He’s a man like any other. Quick to anger, quick to forgive, even quicker to forget.”

  “Especially if he gets to drinking,” Effie went on with a laugh. “Don’t you worry, Cornelia. His Lordship knows and understands why he can’t be here with you constantly.”

  “He is still Lord here and you bully him as though he were a servant.”

  Mrs. Cates eyed her sardonically. “You think he’ll dismiss me for impertinence, dear? He can try.”

  Cornelia laughed. “I guess he will not at that, then.”

  “No, he will not. He’s a man with a good heart, he is.”

  “What do you think he will do with those men?” Cornelia asked, her voice quiet.

  “I do believe that they’ll be fortunate to escape with a dismissal,” Mrs. Cates answered dryly, rewrapping her wound with fresh linen.

  “So, they are still here?”

  “So it would seem.”

  Archie arrived, knocking respectfully on the door, even though it was wide open, but did not cross the threshold until Mrs. Cates beckoned him. Cornelia smiled inwardly as both Effie and Mrs. Cates gave him the barest of curtsies as he approached the bedchamber. She observed him eye them warily as though expecting the pair to begin berating him for some imagined insult.

  Taking the chair next to the bed, Archie took her hand. “You are looking much better, angel. Perhaps your guarding dragons might permit you some fresh air in the garden? It is a lovely evening outside.”

  To Cornelia’s surprise, Mrs. Cates nodded briskly. “Why, I think that would be a lovely idea. Your wound is healing nicely, and we should change the linens on your bed while you’re up.”

  “I will act as chaperone,” Effie volunteered. “My Lord, if you will be kind enough to leave us, we will get her dressed and presentable.”

  Feeling weaker than she liked, Cornelia leaned on Effie’s arm as she made her slow decent down the stairs and across the vast house to the garden. In the cool dusk, the light breeze scenting of roses and lilac, she found Archie seated on a bench. He rose as she and Effie arrived, then assisted her to sit down. Giving them a semblance of privacy, Effie moved just out of earshot.

  “I am so happy you are recovering,” Archie said, his tone soft, his deep eyes luminescent in the faint light.

  “Me, too,” Cornelia admitted with a small smile. “It is good to be back on my feet, even though I used to hate standing all day long.”

  Under the shadow cast by their two bodies, Archie took her right hand and squeezed it, her left held steady in a sling. “How is your pain?”

  “Tolerable. I would like to return to my learning in the library.”

  “I have no quarrel with that, if your guardian dragons do not.”

  Cornelia laughed. “Your calling them that is hilarious.”

  “It is a title they have so richly earned.”

  Gazing into his handsome face, his warm and, yes, loving, eyes, she wanted nothing more than to lean into him, feel his arms around her, rest her cheek against his shoulder. Effie and Mrs. Cates had informed her of how he sat outside her door through that first night, not leaving her even if he was not permitted to sit at her bedside. “Will you kiss me?”

  Bending his head toward her, she closed her eyes as his lips moved sweetly over hers, a chaste yet passionate kiss she poured all her suppressed emotions into. She loved him, she knew she had fallen deeply and fully into love with Archie, and hoped his feelings for her had grown along with hers.

  Archie straightened from her face, but smiled into her eyes. “You have bewitched me, Cornelia,” he murmured, his voice husky.

  “I have been accused of being a witch.”

  “Ah, you must be indeed, then. For I have never felt like this before.”

  Cornelia gave him a slow grin. “Nor have I. You offered me your protection from Barrett, but never warned me to ward myself against you.”

  Archie chuckled, bending close enough to rub his nose briefly against hers. “And here I should have been the one protected. You are so beautiful. I never dared dream I’d feel so complete with a woman at my side.”

  “And here I never thought I’d ever have a man love me.”

  Archie bent close to kiss her again, an uncomplicated, tender closing of his lips on hers. She breathed in his masculine odors, the hint of sandalwood from his soap, felt the strength of his body so close to hers. Tossed about by a whirlwind of emotions, Cornelia was barely aware of someone hurrying across the garden toward them.

  “My Lord.”

  Embarrassed, a fierce blush rising to her cheeks, Cornelia broke away from Archie quickly, and dared not glance up as Mr. North arrived at a halt in front of them. Though she was aware that he approved of Archie’s growing affection for her, and of hers for him, to be caught kissing in the garden seemed to her to be the height of impropriety.

  “Pardon the disruption, My Lord,” Mr. North said quickly. “I have seen the hidden watcher and know where he is.”

  Cornelia finally looked at him as Archie stood. Mr. North did not wear his usual formal attire – jacket, cravat, ruffled shirt and waistcoat, but wore plain, dark grey coveralls and the skin of his face had been smeared with dirt. No doubt, out in the darkness he blended in well with his environment.

  “Where is he?” Archie asked, eager.

  Mr. North gestured toward the west. “Atop a hill amid a cluster of thorn bushes and trees. I managed to get a decent look at him and still remained unseen.”

  “Did you recognize him?’ Archie asked.

  Mr. North glanced at Cornelia. “Indeed. It is that hunchback we saw with Barrett Hill.”

  “Mortimer.”

  Archie turned toward her. “What sort of man is he?”

  “One without any morals,” she answered, her anger rising that Barrett still sought to spy on her, to dare sell her, as though she were a prized mare, to some madman. “He does whatever Barrett tells him to do, and acts as his right hand.”

  “Barrett must still suspect you are here,” Archie said, thoughtful. “But he has no real proof as you do not go outside where you can be easily seen.”

  “He may send Felix and Maurice to search,” Cornelia added. “If he has not already.”

  “My patrols have seen nothing,” Mr. North said firmly. “I ordered the doors to the house locked at night, and will order the stable and barn doors barred wherever possible.”

  “Good,” Archie replied. “Let’s not make it easy on them.”

  “I fear there still may be trouble, Archie.” Cornelia nibbled her lower lip, gazing at the hedgerows. “Barrett cannot give up, he dare not permit me to escape. He may not be on your lands as such, but he can still create problems for you from off of them.”

  “If he does,” Archie said, brushing his knuckles gently across her cheek, “we will be ready for him.”

  “Ready for Felix and Maurice?” she asked. “If he tells them to kill you, what then?”

  “Miss Hill?” Mr. North imm
ediately captured her attention with his softer than normal voice. “Lord Rochester is far from vulnerable, nor is he unprotected. If those two believe they can wander in here at any time and take either you or him, they are gravely mistaken.”

  Cornelia nodded. “Please do not underestimate their wickedness, Mr. North.”