Danice Allen

by Remember Me

  “What?” exclaimed Jack. “This early? Who is it?”

  “It’s the same gentleman Miss Darlington received yesterday morning, my lord. A Mr. Robert Hamilton, I believe.”

  Then, to Henchpenny’s utter amazement, instead of waiting till the visitor was gone or leaving through the backdoor in the servants’ quarters to preserve Miss Darlington’s reputation, Jack flew down the stairs two at a time with Lord Serling fast on his heels.

  To add to his shock, Henchpenny was privy to the astonishing sight of Miss Darlington herself emerging from the open door of her bedchamber, her face as white as the sheeting she’d wrapped around her otherwise naked form, rushing down the stairs exclaiming, “Jack! Please, Jack, don’t do anything foolish!”

  When Miss Priscilla and Miss Nancy scurried from the bedchamber, as well, with their palms flattened against their withered cheeks and their eyes bright with agitation, Henchpenny decided to join them as they followed Miss Darlington down the stairs. Mischief and mayhem were loose in his ordered household, and it was Henchpenny’s duty to keep abreast of the situation. Besides, he wouldn’t miss witnessing the outcome of this to-do for all the tea in China. Miss Darlington’s life had certainly got more exciting since that fateful trip to Thorney Island….

  When Amanda burst into the parlor, not thirty seconds behind Jack and Julian, Jack had already picked Rob up by the lapels and pushed him against the wall with his feet dangling inches from the floor. Robert’s arms were forced into a stiff, painful position by the bunching of the jacket, making him look as though he were about to take flight. His face was bright red with anger and mortification and the collosol effort it took to breathe. Julian stood back and watched with his arms crossed and his face schooled to passivity, as if to say, “This is your fight, Jack. I won’t interfere unless absolutely necessary.”

  “How dare you try to blackmail Amanda!” Jack ground out between clenched teeth. “You dirty bastard, I ought to kill you right here and now!”

  “Can’t … do … it, Jack,” Robert panted out with a sneer. “You owe … me. I saved your … life, you bloody sod!”

  “I’ve more than paid you back for that, Rob. I’ve hauled your worthless arse out of dun territory more than I care to count. If not for me, you wouldn’t have a friend in the world. And this is how you repay me, by God!”

  Robert gasped and twisted, trying to grab hold of Jack’s arms, but his sleeves bound him too tightly. “A hell … of a lot of good your … friendship has done me, Jack. All the women went for … you.” His eyes bulged and rolled in his head till he focused on Amanda. “See you got … this one in bed, too. The little whore!”

  Amanda heard a sharp intake of breath behind her, turned, and saw not only the horrified faces of the aunts and Henchpenny but Sam, too. She’d apparently wandered into the parlor from the breakfast room when she heard the commotion and was now standing with her mouth agape, a piece of toast hanging from her limp fingers.

  “Now you’ve done it, Rob,” Jack said with ominous calm. “No one calls the future Lady Durham a whore. Apologize and I won’t hit you quite so hard.”

  Robert stretched his neck and sneered down at Jack, apparently not about to apologize. Jack seemed pleased. He smiled unpleasantly and slowly lowered Robert till his feet made contact with the floor. He waited for Robert to catch his breath and shake some life into his arms; then he pulled back his fist and hit Robert square on the jaw.

  Robert’s head snapped back, and he slid to the floor. Bloody drool oozed from one side of his mouth.

  “Get up and fight me, Rob,” Jack invited with his fists clenched at his sides. “Come on, you swine. I’ll give you the next shot free and clear.”

  Robert remained seated, his legs sprawled in front of him. He glared up at Jack, rubbing his chin, working the hinge of his jaw. “You’d beat me to a pulp and you know it. Things’d be a lot more equal if we faced off with guns instead of fisticuffs.”

  Jack crossed his arms and raised an imperious brow. “I agree with you completely. Where would you like to meet?”

  Robert pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at his mouth, grimacing as he studied the bright red blood that had soaked through the white linen. “Don’t know. Need to find me a second first, then he’ll send word. Is that all right with you, my lord?” he added sarcastically.

  “Perfectly,” Jack said coolly. “Just as long as we get this business over with tomorrow at cock’s crow, can’t wait any longer than that to give you exactly what you deserve.”

  Robert smirked. “You can’t kill me, Jack. You owe me.”

  “So you keep saying,” Jack replied in a bored voice.

  Robert laughed. “No, you won’t kill me. And winging me in the arm won’t stop me from talking. I have every intention of telling the world about Miss Darlington’s bastard sister. The only way you’ll ever silence me is by sending me to my grave, and you have too many scruples for that, Jack.”

  “Get out, Robert.”

  Robert smirked again, braced his shoulder against the wall, and slid to his feet, then staggered across the room. Everyone parted the way, and he walked with his head down till he got to the parlor door. Sam was standing just inside, still motionless with shock. As Robert passed, he lifted his head and stretched his lips into an evil smile, the blood from his injured mouth coating his teeth and giving him a demonic look. Sam reached for her throat with both hands in a fearful, protective gesture.

  No one moved till they heard the front door open and close behind Robert. Amanda threw herself into Jack’s arms and he held her close, grabbing the sheet in the back as it threatened to unwrap from around her.

  As if they all had the same idea at once, Julian, Nan, Prissy, Sam, and Henchpenny all withdrew from the room, leaving the two lovers alone for a few moments to comfort each other.

  In the hall, Nan turned to Henchpenny. “As I’m sure you can deduce for yourself, Henchpenny, if there happen to be any visitors for Miss Darlington, tell them she’s … er … temporarily indisposed. And do steer the servants away from the parlor for the next half hour.”

  “Yes, of course, Miss Nancy.”

  “If there’s talk at the servants’ table about this, as I’m sure one or more of the maids saw Miss Darlington racing down the stairs in a sheet, threaten them with dismissal if they dare repeat a word of it to anyone.”

  “Yes, Miss Nancy. You can be sure I shall squelch any attempts at gossip within the house as well.”

  Nan smiled weakly and nodded, and Henchpenny strode purposefully and with great dignity down the hall to the kitchen.

  “What’s going to happen?” said Sam, her eyes wide and frightened. “Will that man tell everyone I’m—”

  Julian slid his hand around the nape of Sam’s neck in a comforting gesture. “Don’t worry about that man,” he said. “Neither Jack nor I will allow him to hurt you in any way.”

  “Why was he so hateful, Julian? Why does he want to hurt me? Is Jack really going to fight a duel? And why was Amanda in a sheet?”

  “Come, child,” said Prissy, slipping her arm in Sam’s. “I’ll explain everything to you upstairs.”

  Sam balked. “But I want Julian to explain things to me.”

  “I need to speak to Lord Serling alone, Samantha,” said Nan. “Now do be a dear and go upstairs with your Aunt Prissy.”

  “But—”

  Julian gave Sam’s neck a squeeze and bent down to look into her unhappy face. “Do it, brat. I’ll come by later and see how your Roman history is coming along.” He smiled encouragingly.

  Sam looked up through her thick lashes and gave a grudging smile. “If you promise.”

  “I promise.”

  “Oh, all right.”

  Prissy pulled Sam up the stairs before she could change her mind, and Nan invited Julian into the morning room. Curious as to what she was up to. Julian stood and waited in the center of the room while Nan closed the double doors securely behind her.

  “So, Nan, what i
s it you wanted to talk to me about?” Julian thought it rather odd how he’d got on such friendly terms so quickly with Amanda’s aunts. He’d developed a sincere respect and affection for them and was interested in anything they had to say. But then they’d certainly lived long enough to have attained a little wisdom and knowledge of the world.

  “Do you mind if we sit down, my lord?” Nan said, peering up at him. “If I have to look up so far for the entire conversation, I’ll get a crick in my neck for certain.”

  Julian chuckled and took her elbow, guiding her to a sofa and sitting down beside her. “Is that better?”

  “Much.” She leaned close and lay her hand on his, saying seriously, “Besides defending Jack’s honor, etcetera, this duel isn’t going to settle things with that Robert Hamilton fellow, is it?”

  “Not unless Jack shoots to kill,” Julian admitted with a sigh.

  “Do you think he will?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not. I hope it won’t be necessary.”

  Nan breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad we think alike on that, my lord. Jack is furious with his friend, as well he should be, but he’d have a hard time living with himself if he actually killed Robert Hamilton … even though the little beast deserves it! No, I don’t mean that! I’m a Christian woman, and I don’t believe in violence of any kind, but—”

  “I know what you mean, Nan. I’ve disliked and distrusted Robert for the past two years, and now I despise him. He’s taken advantage of Jack’s trusting and loyal nature for too long. But now that Jack’s eyes have been opened, I can finally take steps to get rid of the little … er … swine for good.”

  Nan’s eyes grew wide. “You don’t mean to say—”

  “No, I don’t plan to murder him, either, however much I may be tempted,” Julian said wryly. “But whatever is done must be done before the duel tomorrow. I don’t want Jack living with a guilty conscience for the rest of his life.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I haven’t figured that out yet, but I’ve got several hours to come up with something. I need damaging information about him, something we could use to counter his blackmail against Amanda. Something that could force him out of town for good. His gaming debts and profligate ways aren’t scandalous enough; half the young bucks in London are nearly as deep in debt as Rob.”

  Julian looked up and saw Nan gazing into the middle distance, her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed. “What’s that look for, Nan?” said Julian. “Do you think you can help me?”

  Nan’s eyes met Julian’s with a canny expression. “I think I just might, my lord. When Pris and I got home last night from the relief house in Spitalfields we regularly visit, we heard from Henchpenny that Amanda had had a visitor by the name of Robert Hamilton. We thought we’d heard the name before, but we weren’t sure where.” She shrugged and smiled. “Sometimes we old tabbies forget things. Anyway, Amanda told us we must have heard it in connection with Jack. But now that we’ve seen the scoundrel in the flesh, we know exactly where we’ve heard the name … and seen the face.”

  Amanda was snuggled up to Jack on the sofa, the sheet she wore tucked around her updrawn feet. Her head rested on his chest, her arms were wrapped around his waist, and his arm was wrapped around her shoulders. They stared into the fire, their expressions sober and thoughtful. Troubled.

  “We’ve certainly had a unique courtship, haven’t we, Amanda darling?” Jack said at last, giving her a squeeze.

  “Very unique, indeed,” Amanda agreed.

  He turned to look at her and brushed a lock of her disheveled hair off her forehead. “Do you know when I first realized I loved you?” He smiled tenderly.

  She smiled back. “Tell me.”

  “I first admitted it to myself—and to Julian—that night on Thorney Island. By the way, did you hear that part of the conversation?”

  “No.” She chuckled. “I daresay if I had, we might have come to an understanding sooner!”

  “Yes. Well, anyway, that’s when I admitted to myself that I was head over heels in love with you, but I think I first knew it when you blushed so delightfully that time I teased you about my war wound.”

  She shook her head. “You were such a devil! You had me blushing constantly!”

  “When did you first fall in love with me, Amanda?”

  She raised a brow. “I dare not tell you. You’ll become a conceited coxcomb.”

  “Aren’t I already? Tell me, sweetheart.”

  “You weren’t even conscious yet!”

  “Just tell me!”

  She shrugged her bare shoulders. “I think it was when you mumbled something in your sleep on the way to the Three Nuns. It was provocative—”

  He grinned. “Of course.”

  “—and you called whomever you were dreaming about a minx! I found myself wishing you’d call me a minx and say provocative things to me! And I didn’t even know you.”

  “You got your wish, eh? I’m sure I’ve called you a minx and said provocative things on several occasions.”

  “Yes, I got my wish. But I’m a selfish being, Jack, and now I want the happy ending.” She scooted up, braced her hands on his chest, and gazed into his face. “I want to marry you, Jack, have babies with you, and grow old with you. I want the fairy tale.”

  “You’ll get it, Amanda. I promise.”

  “But what about the duel?” She bit her lip and searched his face. “I’m afraid, Jack.”

  He rubbed his hand along her bare arm. “Don’t be afraid, Amanda. I’ve waited a long time to be this happy. I’m not going to let Rob ruin it for me.”

  “He’s jealous of you.”

  Jack smiled, his loving gaze roving over her face. “Now that I have you in my life, I can understand why he’d be jealous.”

  “Promise me, Jack—”

  “I already have.”

  “But—”

  He pressed a finger against her lips. “Trust me, Amanda.”

  She kissed his finger, then caught his hand and cradled her cheek in his warm palm.

  “Yes, Jack. With all my heart.”

  Chapter 22

  Julian walked alone down Abingdon Street toward Rob’s apartment. The sky was overcast and the fog was thick. Despite the occasional street lamp, visibility in some places was reduced to as little as ten or twelve feet. Young bucks staggering home from their evening’s entertainment, as well as other assorted anonymous figures in greatcoats, loomed out of the darkness unexpectedly. In the distance, Julian heard the watchman chant the time. Two o’clock.

  Despite Rob’s profligate ways, Julian expected to find the villain home by this relatively early hour. A man would have to be daft not to catch a little sleep, or at least a little rest, before participating in a duel. Rob’s second, Percy Mingay, a hell-born babe with a reputation as foul as Rob’s, had paid Julian a visit that afternoon to set the time and place for the duel and to state Rob’s preference of weapons.

  They were to meet at St. James’s Park at five-thirty. And it came as no surprise to Julian that Rob chose to duel with pistols instead of swords. He’d never best Jack at anything that demanded stamina or athletic ability, and he knew it.

  Once again it was borne home to Julian that it was truly amazing that Rob had ever saved Jack’s life in the first place. The story told was that Rob had bodily thrown himself onto Jack and toppled him to the ground, thereby removing him from the path of oncoming gunfire shot by an enemy at close range. Julian thought it more likely that Rob was trying to save his own skin and Jack had simply got in the way and been plowed down. Of course, the scoundrel would be only too happy to take credit for being brave and quick-witted rather than cowardly and clumsy.

  No one could ever prove the truth one way or the other, and Julian had been forced for two years to give the little bugger the benefit of the doubt. Nevertheless, whether by accident or on purpose, Rob had saved Jack from potentially fatal wounds. But even so, Rob’s actions that fateful day on the peninsula certainl
y didn’t give him license to ruin innocent people’s lives. And Julian wasn’t just talking about Sam and Amanda and what Rob had tried to do to them. Information he’d grubbed up, with the help of Amanda’s observant aunts, proved that Rob had been busily ruining other people’s lives, too.

  Julian found the address he was looking for, went through the unlocked outside door, and walked up the dimly lit narrow flight of stairs to the first floor. The place had little security, but it was in a fairly quiet neighborhood filled with houses just like this one with apartments to let to single gentleman. It was not a fashionable address, but it was respectable and cheap. However, despite the moderate expense of living there, Julian strongly suspected that Jack was paying Rob’s rent.

  At Rob’s door, Julian rapped sharply on the peeling wood several times. When there was no immediate answer, he knocked again and persisted till the door finally opened. Rob’s manservant, a do-it-all chap of the sort that single men hired to keep their small lodgings tidy and prepare occasional refreshment as well as oversee all the usual duties of a valet, answered the door. He was still dressed in his day clothes, but they were wrinkled and his person unkept. He looked and acted as though he’d been drinking. His bald pate was gleaming with sweat, and his nose was as red as a radish.

  “I’m here to see Mr. Hamilton,” Julian informed him briskly.

  The unsteady manservant peered up at Julian with eyes that looked painfully bloodshot. “T’ master is sleepin’,” he said.

  “Wake him up,” was Julian’s uncompromising response.

  The servant blinked confusedly, his bleary gaze traveling slowly up and down Julian’s tall, impeccable figure. “But it’s the wee hours,” he argued. “What’s a fine gent like you doin’ ’ere at this time o’ night, anyway? I kin tell ye fer a fact he ain’t got no money. Owes me wages fer four months.”

  “That’s regrettable, my good man. I advise you to sober up and find another position as quickly as possible. But I’m here for reasons that have nothing to do with extracting money from your master. A fruitless endeavor, I should think.” He stepped past the servant and into the tiny parlor.