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Taffeta & Hotspur

Page 12

by Claudy Conn


  “Well, as to that…” Seth coughed in his fist. “I would imagine they thought to keep the things as mementos … but wisdom overruled, and we believe the three must have burned their disguises…”

  “Ah, they have more brains than I gave them credit for.” Tarrant grinned. “My next question is this. You know I believe we have a problem with imposters here in London … posing as the three and stealing documents meant for Wellington?”

  “Villainous traitors!” said Nigel.

  “Just so,” said Tarrant. “We mean to set a trap for them, and I want you somewhere very public when we do … just as a safeguard.”

  “No one knows… I mean … well…” His voice trailed off.

  Tarrant laughed and shook his head, “’Tis done, but we still wouldn’t want anyone making any connections and attempting any … er … blackmail.”

  “Damn, no!” said Nigel.

  “And one more thing. In the upcoming days and evenings, I expect you to help me keep an eye on Lady Taffeta as I suspect if certain individuals are denied their goals, they may think to … take by force what isn’t given willingly.” He looked at Taffeta and then at her male relatives, “You will have to make certain she does not enjoy the freedom she has grown accustomed to, clear?”

  “Clear but…” Seth started on a snort. “Easier said than done.”

  “Nevertheless, I believe her well-being to be in immediate danger … for several reasons, and if you can’t manage to keep her in check, I shall.”

  Brother and uncle eyed one another, and then Tarrant, a bit skeptically.

  Taffeta eyed them all and finally let go with her thoughts. “Now … hold on a moment, all of you. I am very capable of looking out for myself, and I will not be kept a prisoner because of a blackguard.” She eyed Tarrant defiantly, “I won’t be curbed by…”

  “Do not test me, my love. You wouldn’t like it, not one bit.” Tarrant grinned wickedly at her, and she found her mouth opened, closed, and then opened again without anything coming out.

  Seth beamed, “Aye then Taffy, what say you?”

  “I say, I know well enough how to watch my back, and so I shall—so should we all.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The four left the coffeehouse, but their chattering continued. Taffy noted to herself how quiet and thoughtful Tarrant appeared. She was also aware that his fingers caressed her cloak as they stepped outdoors.

  Nigel turned to Tarrant, “Do you come to m’aunt’s with us for there are a few questions I still have for you, Tarrant?”

  “Aye, have one or two, m’self,” said Seth looking his way.

  Taffeta smiled at Tarrant and urged in hopeful accents, “Do come with us…” Her voice was soft and cajoling, because all she knew was she wanted his company forever. As she spoke, she stepped backward and did not realize she had stepped to the edge of the curbing, tripped there, lost her balance, and wind-milled her arms. This spooked a horse being walked by a lackey. She saw everything that happened flash before her eyes. The skittish horse reared up and came down before she could jump out of the way, and its left hoof caught her soundly, freakishly just below her bosom.

  The lackey yanked on the poor spooked horse and pulled him to order with a sharp reproof, but the damage was already done, and Taffy was bent over in pain. As she attempted to straighten up, she squeaked out, “Lord, flush hit…”

  “Sunbeam… My sweet love…” Tarrant cooed as he took her up into his arms cradle styled, turned to Seth, and demanded, “Hail a hackney at once!”

  Her brother did so at once leaving Nigel to care for her. Taffy saw him stop and watch, and knew from his expression he had come to some conclusion. She saw a slow smile curve his lips, but was in too much pain consider what he might be thinking.

  Her brother had finally caught the attention of a hackney, and she thought she might faint as pain shot through her when Tarrant gently saw her situated in the carriage. He climbed in beside her and Seth and Nigel followed.

  A few moments later, they were home, and the rakehell Hotspur placed her in a reclining position on the sofa where he solicitously looked after her.

  At this point, she knew from the rolling eyes her brother and uncle were giving one another, she would be teased pitifully as soon as Tarrant departed.

  “Be easy, my lord… It is naught…” Taffy assured the Hotspur as she tried to wipe off her brother’s wicked grin with a glare.

  “I would feel better if you would let me tend the bruise…” he said, and it appeared to her that he was not at all put off by the fact both her brother and her uncle were privy to this.

  Taffy stared at him, warning in her expression, and he laughed out loud, “Think I care for the proprieties when you have been injured?”

  “But I am perfectly fine, I do assure you,” she replied, gritting her teeth for she could see her brother’s expression and knew as soon as Tarrant left, he and Nigel would quiz her relentlessly.

  “I have been kicked a time or two, my dear, and know otherwise. You are very brave, and we shall leave it at that for now. I shall leave you to rest and hope you will be well enough to attend White’s soiree tonight where I will be looking for you—only you.”

  She felt herself blush and met his gaze. It was as though no one else existed, as though life revolved around the moments they were together. When had this happened to her? She had always been so independent … and now, now she needed so much more than herself. “Must you leave?” she asked on a soft note.

  “If you wish me to stay, I shall, but I have one errand that must be discharged … soon.”

  “Then do go … take care of it, for it must be important. My brother and Nigel will look after me.” she said softly.

  He kissed her hand. “It is of the utmost importance, nothing else could take me from you at this time.”

  Tarrant stood up from the sofa, turned. Seth went forward to shake his hand and Nigel grinned idiotically as he extended his, all under Taffy’s gaze. She put a hand to her forehead.

  “Gentlemen, I trust you to look after our precious treasure and shall see you this evening.” So saying, he strode out of the sitting room and was gone.

  “I say!” said Nigel, staring hard at Taffy.

  “Indeed, sister mine, you have some explaining to do!” Her brother grinned from ear to ear.

  “Why, don’t you approve?”

  “Approve?” relied Nigel. “Damn, if you aren’t close to bagging the catch of the century!”

  ~*~

  The door was flung open, and Taffy exclaimed, “Cathy!”

  Catherine stopped short and gasped. “Oh … what is wrong? You are hurt … how … oh no, this is awful… Whatever has happened—what?” she demanded coming forward to sit on the sofa with her, shrugging off her bonnet and gloves, and taking Taffy’s hand.

  “It is nothing,” said Taffy, waving it off with her free hand. “Got kicked by a horse … my fault, wasn’t watching where I was going … startled the brute…”

  “Oh Taffy … poor dear… Shall I take you upstairs and have a look at it?” Catherine frowned with concern.

  “No, not now. It is bound to be black and blue. That is what bruises do; turn black and blue and then heal. There is nothing to be done. Now, why did you explode in here as though the devil was on your heels?”

  “Yes, Cath, you did do that, you know,” Seth agreed with a nod.

  Nigel inclined his head, and both men pulled up their chairs closer to the sofa. Something definitely was toward for Catherine’s excitement was almost a visible force.

  She eyed them all and said, “You know the other night … when I stayed over here?”

  “Yes,” said Taffy.

  “Papa was attacked!”

  “What?” shrieked her audience as a whole.

  Miss Frome stood up, removed her spencer of maroon brocade, and sat with a thump. Taffy was impatient as she urged her friend to proceed. She waved her hand and winced.

  “Yes … attacked.”


  “Go on, do … Cath…” Taffy encouraged.

  “By highwaymen who called themselves very loudly, and made certain Papa heard them, the Rogues Three,” said Cathy as she gazed at her friends.

  Silence reigned for a moment, and then Taffy found her voice. “How do you know this? Surely, your papa did not tell you?”

  “No, of course he did not. I … knew something was … wrong … and I listened in on his conversation when Sidmouth paid him an early visit this morning.”

  Taffy snorted and laughed. “Cathy, you astound me. You eavesdropped? I am so very proud of you.”

  She blushed. “Yes … but I had to. You see, Papa seemed … odd, and I was worried about him…”

  “What I should like to know is … what do you know about the Rogues Three?” Nigel asked gravely.

  Cathy’s hands folded and unfolded in her lap. “Why do you ask?”

  “Catherine Frome, answer my uncle,” demanded Taffy, eyeing her quizzically. “Oh, my. You have guessed, haven’t you? Why, you cunning thing.”

  “Only because I know you three quite well, and I know your views regarding the plight of the Luddites. I thought … perhaps you might support such a thing … and then, well … three…” her voice trailed off.

  “Let us not say anything further…” said Seth making a fist and coughing into it. “One never knows who may be about … servants and such.”

  “Well, this attack on your father, what could they have wanted?” asked Taffeta.

  “To steal documents meant for Wellington … but, the Home Office was aware and did in fact expect the brutes to attack. They had a plan you see … and set a trap of sorts. I couldn’t quite hear everything—but I knew it wasn’t the Rogues Three of Nottingham. Needed, however to … er … warn you of the situation.”

  “Yes, our rogues have retired, but it is a shame their name is being sullied like this,” said Seth with a sigh.

  “Who are these traitors, and why would they betray their country?” Taffy asked, not really expecting a reply.

  “Money,” answered Nigel. “It is always about money, which brings me to another subject. Stay away from Bruton, young lady. He is after you for one reason only.”

  Taffy laughed. “I loathe him.”

  “Do you?” asked Seth with surprise. “You could have fooled me, sis.”

  “I meant to fool him, so if I fooled you, I did my job, but as you say… I think I shall now turn him up cold. I’m weary of the sport.” She saw her friend was blushing furiously and immediately said, “Now, what of your papa? Did he suffer any injury?”

  “No, no, he is fine and apparently pleased.”

  “Good, so now tell me … what of Fenmore?”

  Again, Cathy blushed, and Taffy giggled deliciously, “Ah … also good.”

  “Here is the thing,” said Nigel, as he looked penetratingly at Miss Frome, “Catherine, what does your father know about the Rogues Three? Does he believe they are one and the same as the ones who worked Sherwood Forest?”

  “From what I overheard, they have their doubts, but they don’t care really. They mean to set a trap for the fellows. I was interrupted when one of our servants came out of the dining room, and I couldn’t very well allow her to see me listening at the door.”

  Taffy laughed. “No, and in fact, it amazes me you did so…”

  “Well, I knew something was wrong, and I was worried—although when I took to listening, I didn’t realize it would have anything to do with you three.”

  Seth reached over and patted her on the arm, pronouncing, “You are a right ‘un for all your frills and quiet, a right ‘un, and if Fenmore doesn’t propose to you, I think I will!”

  She blushed and slapped at the young duke, “You will not, you horrid tease … now stop it.” She turned toward Taffy, who moved on the sofa and found it brought her some discomfort and winced again.

  “Oh Taff, what you need is a hot bath. Come along, let me take you upstairs, and we’ll have hot water brought up.”

  Taffy sighed. “Yes, I think if I am to feel better by tonight, I must do something.”

  Nigel and Seth were silent before they regarded one another under Taffy’s watchful gaze. “We need to find out a bit more…” Nigel said.

  “How?” answered Seth.

  “Tarrant,” they both answered at once and then grinned to see Taffy shake her head.

  ~*~

  The music was low and sweet. The night air was cool and inviting. Lady White’s soiree buzzed with the inevitable squeeze, and Taffeta wore Tarrant’s posy with delicious pride.

  He had remembered, even though he had implied he had serious matters that needed attention, to send round a posy for her with a note that said simply, “I am yours … Thurston.”

  She felt as though she could walk on air, and then she was dancing on his arm. A cotillion, and then a waltz, and he seemed determined not to leave her side. She saw astonished dowagers looking their way and hiding behind their fans as they gossiped. She giggled to herself and then out loud. To Tarrant she said, “Well, you certainly are causing quite a bit of commotion.”

  “Am I? Well, as to that, there will be even more of one when they read the paper in a few days and see the banns have been posted.”

  “Banns?” Taffy looked straight up into his eyes.

  “I have already received permission from your aunt and brother. It leaves only you to seal my fate,” he answered quietly.

  “Thurston Tarrant … are you picking up the cap I said I wouldn’t throw your way?” She scarcely got the words out.

  “I am.” He took her gloved fingers and held fast. “Shall I take you outdoors and get on one knee, sunbeam?”

  “No … ask me here, ask me now!” she demanded, joy taking over her senses.

  “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and making me delirious all the rest of my days?”

  “Oh, I can do that…” she said and gave him a long, exquisite, and low bow.

  He roared, “Of all the ways I imagined you might accept my proposal, sweet life, I did not expect a bow!” He pulled her up and hugged her fiercely to the shocked glances of many.

  Then grabbing her hand, he led her to the musicians, whispered in the lead musician’s ear, and slipped him a few coins.

  A moment later, the man announced, “A waltz to celebrate the engagement of Lord Thurston Tarrant to the Lady Taffeta of Grantham.”

  A gasp, and then a round of applause and as friends and acquaintances alike began to surround them. The music began, and Tarrant led his future bride onto the floor.

  ~*~

  Bruton’s jaw dropped as he listened to the engagement announcement. He couldn’t believe his ears. He knew Tarrant was interested in Lady Taffeta, but it had never occurred to him his rival would propose to her.

  Damn the man’s soul! Did he think he would get away with this? Well, he wouldn’t. He would still snatch the prize out from under him. He frowned over his new problem. Why had Tarrant done this? Tarrant didn’t need her money—he had a fortune of his own.

  Bloody Hell! Damn the little vixen for her betrayal. No doubt she had used him to get the Hotspur jealous and bring him to this point. Well, he would teach her a lesson. No one would use him and get away with it.

  There was only one way to handle the situation to make it right for himself. There would be scandal, but what did he care for scandal, and it was no more than what she deserved for her perfidy. If Tarrant thought he could steal his gilded calf, the only way out of his debts, well, he was wrong.

  One way or another, he would have Lady Taffeta for his wife and her money to stave off debtor’s prison.

  He knew he was down to his last sou. He was a desperate man, and he knew it, knew what he had to do, and he had no intention of hesitating. What he had in his favor was no one knew just how very desperate he was.

  He wouldn’t be bested in this way. He had to work on his alternate plan, a plan he had in place because he had been afraid from the s
tart he would have to elope with her because of her family. He had always known her young duke of a brother would never agree to his suit.

  He smiled wickedly to himself as he stood and watched the couple in question go around the dance floor as though they were in heaven. Heaven? They would both soon know hell … for he meant to take them there. Tarrant for daring to blatantly best him, and the little beauty for daring to lead him on.

  One way or another, Taffeta and her wealth were going to be his. He would have to execute his plan a bit sooner than he had thought, and he would have to be careful. It would all depend on the fluidity of his movements over the next few days. It would have to appear to Tarrant and Lady Taffeta he was quietly withdrawing his interest in her. And now, he would begin to show her and the world at large he had transferred his interest to… He looked around and moved to take Melody Conners onto the dance floor. Yes, Melody would do very well…

  Chapter Twelve

  Three nights later

  “Oh, but that was dull work,” exclaimed Taffeta as she led Catherine to the front steps of Lady Higgens’ townhouse. She looked around for her brother and Nigel who were still in conversation with a friend some distance at their back.

  Their coach had pulled up to the curbing, and the Higgens’ footman held out his gloved white hand to help the ladies up the steps and into their carriage. Taffy looked to her brother and waved for him to hurry as she followed Catherine into the coach, and they spread their skirts around them.

  “Well, at least it was an early evening. I must admit to being a bit tired from all our gadding about.”

  “Yes, but I would have rather spent the evening at home than listening to those dandies try and ape poetry. Ugh, ‘tis no wonder Aunt Sissy stayed home. We should have as well.” Taffy sighed.

  “Hmmm, especially when there was no chance of having your dear Tarrant in attendance on you.”

 

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