Jilted by a Scoundrel

by Cheryl Holt

  “I had a bad dream, and it scared me. I was going to tell Miss Watson about it.”

  He felt like an idiot. Bobby’s and Jane’s rooms were next to Winnie’s, and when he’d blustered in, it hadn’t occurred to him to spin the key in the lock. What if Jane had wandered in while he was with Winnie? There was no explanation he could have tendered that would have sounded plausible.

  He quickly regrouped. “Miss Watson is still awake, so you can definitely talk to her.”

  “What were you talking to her about?”

  “I’ve decided you, Bobby, and Miss Watson can live with me at Dunworthy.”

  “Forever?”

  He was so discombobulated from bumping into her that he wasn’t thinking clearly, and without meaning to, he told her, “Yes, the three of you can stay forever.”

  She smiled such a pretty, winning smile that he was completely bowled over by it.

  “I knew it would turn out this way,” she said. “In the end, I knew you’d be kind.”

  He rested a palm on the top of her head, the realization sinking in that she was his deceased sister’s long-lost daughter. She was his niece, and he let the pleasant notion of their connection wash over him. Then he steered her toward Winnie’s room, pushed her inside, and fled as swiftly as his dastardly feet could carry him away.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “I hate Dunworthy.”

  “I know, darling.

  “It’s so boring there. I’m suffocating.”

  Ellen Dunn peered over at Holden. With his blond hair and big green eyes, he was the most handsome man she’d ever met. Nearly all of her acquaintances were Dunn relatives, and they had dark hair and eyes. His golden features made him glimmer like a Greek god.

  His trim physique set him apart too, as did his dapper clothes and sense of style. He was so different from her cousins. They were hulking oafs who worked strenuously to feed their families by fishing and sailing. They had rough hands and ruddy complexions. They wore long beards and functional clothes sewn by their wives utilizing the sturdiest fabric.

  They were uneducated oafs who talked too loudly, drank too avidly, and beat their wives and children when they felt punishment was due. Or even if it wasn’t due. They simply liked to use their fists.

  As to the boys her age, their main goal in life was to eventually own a fishing boat, and their horizons extended no farther than that. Because of it, she’d begged her mother to let her leave Dunworthy, so she’d cross paths with swains who better suited her, but her mother had always refused.

  Melvina had wed Duncan at fifteen, and she proclaimed her marriage to be the height of what a woman could expect for herself. She thought Ellen should be satisfied with the same type of limited choice, but Ellen would never be satisfied.

  In that regard, she was too much like her Uncle John. She possessed his wanderlust and desire to visit foreign places, and Holden Cartwright was her ticket to escape.

  “I’d rescue you if I could,” Holden said, “but my funds are tied up in that mining venture I told you about.”

  “I understand.”

  “Until that morass is resolved, I don’t have a farthing to waste.”

  “I detest how the world is structured. I wish everyone was rich so money didn’t matter.”

  He chuckled. “That would be something, wouldn’t it?”

  They were in his room over the tavern, and they were seated at his table by the window, having a late breakfast together. She’d been so anxious to be with him again that she hadn’t waited for the tide to turn so she could walk to town. She’d had a cousin ferry her over.

  She studied the boats bobbing in the harbor, the people passing by. She was eager to ensure no one glanced up and noticed her precisely where she shouldn’t be. Her Dunn kin wouldn’t be too keen on her misbehaving with Holden, and if she was caught, he would bear the brunt of their anger.

  Off in the distance, Dunworthy Island was visible through the fog and clouds. It was a rainy, stormy day—every day on the coast was rainy and stormy—and occasionally, the castle poked out of the mist. It might have been a mythical fortress where fairies resided.

  Outsiders such as Miss Watson thought it was stunningly beautiful. They gushed over the windswept cliffs and the stark isolation, but they never stayed for long.

  “If you could take me anywhere,” she said, “where would it be?”

  “I’d like to show you the Canary Islands.”

  “Aren’t they off the coast of Africa?”

  “Yes, it’s the last stop before ships sail across the Atlantic. I’m in exports and imports, remember? I often have business there. The climate is hot and sultry, and the sun always shines.”

  “That sounds splendid.”

  “I have a villa on the south coast of the main island of Santa Cruz.”

  “Does it have a verandah?”

  “Yes—on the front and the rear of the house. On the front, it looks out at the ocean, and the water is a beautiful turquoise color, not the gray and brown it is here.”

  “I can’t imagine how fantastic it must be.”

  “The island has a large volcano in the middle.”

  “Yes, you mentioned it. I would love to see a volcano.”

  “I can’t begin to describe how exotic it is.”

  She sighed, thinking she was so happy when she was with him.

  He was thirty—the same age as her Uncle John—so he should have seemed terribly old, but he didn’t. He lived a glamorous, exciting life, had traveled the globe.

  Men were so lucky! She’d never gone anywhere or done anything.

  “It’s aggravating that my finances are such a mess,” he said. “If I hadn’t promised my partners about the mine investment, my stock portfolio wouldn’t be frozen. I’d be able to make all kinds of promises to you.”

  On hearing his comment, her pulse raced a bit. “I’d like it if you made promises.”

  “You realize, don’t you, that I’m stuck in Dunworthy for now, but the minute my funds clear, I’ll have to proceed to London. My investors will need an update from me.”

  “You’d leave?”

  At the news, she was stricken, and he appeared so remorseful. “Well, there’s not a reason for me to remain, is there? The sole path for us is matrimony. I’d have to speak to your mother and propose, but she’d never allow a match between us.”

  Ellen shook her head. “No, she never would. She’s determined to keep me imprisoned on Dunworthy forever.”

  “You poor girl.” He linked their fingers. “If only we could sneak away and wed without her knowing, but I would never suggest such an outrageous act. I admire you too much.”

  “I’d sneak away with you,” she blurted out before she could convince herself to be sensible. “You can’t abandon me. I’d just die!”

  “What option is there for us? I can’t trek around the country with a maiden who’s not a relative.” He scowled. “I suppose we could…ah…elope to Scotland, but I shudder to raise the idea.”

  “I would agree in an instant, Holden, and it wouldn’t be disrespectful. In fact, I’d be ecstatic if I was your bride.”

  This was as far as they’d walked down this road, and she was agog with exhilaration to have finally arrived where she was so desperate to be.

  She’d been visiting him for several weeks, ever since they’d met down on the wharf, and they’d begun chatting.

  He’d been wary about pursuing a personal liaison, and he’d told the saddest story about his marriage when he was younger. His wife had perished tragically of consumption, and he’d never really gotten over her passing, so he wasn’t interested in romance. He’d been too deeply affected by her demise.

  But he was so vibrant and charming. He shouldn’t be alone, and Ellen was the precise female he needed in order to be content again.

  He pushed away from the table and went to the window to stare outside. He was too wonderful to be trapped in Dunwo
rthy, too vivacious and fascinating to spend one more hour in the horrid place.

  “If my assets weren’t locked up,” he said, “if I had a single penny in my purse, we could depart for Scotland immediately.”

  “I’d like a day or two to make plans. We’d have to figure out how to flee when I wasn’t being watched.”

  “It doesn’t solve my fiscal problem though. I want to spoil you, so I would never ask you to travel cheaply. I deem you to be so extraordinary, and it wouldn’t be fair.”

  Her pulse raced at an even faster clip. She couldn’t let their lack of a few pounds cause her to miss her chance.

  “Would the trip to Scotland be expensive?” she inquired. “I’m so provincial; I haven’t the slightest notion of what it would cost.”

  “It wouldn’t be that expensive, but there would be food, lodging, and the like.”

  “I might be able to scrounge up some money,” she brazenly declared.

  He frowned. “How would you?”

  “My mother keeps some hidden, and it’s quite a lot actually. She doesn’t realize I know about it, but she squirrels it away from the Dunworthy treasury.”

  He seemed humored by the prospect. “She steals from Lord John?”

  “Yes, and she wouldn’t consider it stealing. She believes he owes it to her.”

  Warning bells were clanging in her ear, but shouts of joy were drowning them out. What did she care if she pilfered from her mother? Melvina had been the major obstacle to her happiness, and Ellen was so wildly besotted.

  If she ran off and wed without permission, her mother would be furious, but ultimately, Melvina would have to accept Ellen’s decision. Ellen would eventually return to Dunworthy with Holden, and he was so rich that they’d easily pay her back.

  She suffered a wave of vain pleasure as she envisioned the scene that would play out.

  Here is your money, Melvina, she’d say. You paid for my wedding, and look at the marvelous husband I snagged for myself!

  Melvina would be forced to admit that Ellen had made a terrific choice.

  “I would never encourage you to steal from you mother,” Holden said.

  “I wouldn’t consider it stealing either. I’d view it as purchasing a ticket to cement our future.”

  His expression changed to one of potent affection. “Oh, Ellen, this is why I love you so much. You and I think exactly alike.”

  It was the first time he’d offered such a personal declaration, and she was so surprised by it, she nearly fell off her chair.

  “You…you…love me?”

  “Yes, didn’t you know? I’m madly in love with you, and I grow more devoted every second.”

  “I love you too!” she eagerly confessed.

  He came over and kissed her, and any discussion of Melvina was forgotten, but Ellen suspected her mother would be front and center very soon.

  How quickly could she get her hands on her mother’s money? How quickly could she sneak away with it so they could depart for Scotland?

  * * * *

  “Miss Watson, may I speak with you for a moment?”

  At hearing John’s voice, Winnie whirled around. With each passing day, she was more enthralled, her obsession burgeoning to the point where she’d allowed him to bluster into her bedchamber and tarry there. Her only opinion about the entire episode was to wonder when he might visit again.

  “Hello, Lord John.” She bit down a flirtatious grin. “I’m at your service, so how may I assist you this fine morning?”

  Nervously, she glanced around the main hall. Breakfast was over, but stragglers remained. It didn’t seem as if anyone was watching them, but John commanded a room. The crowd was probably furtively eavesdropping to decipher their comments.

  She had to be careful. None of his relatives would like to learn that he’d taken a fancy to her.

  “The mail just arrived,” he said, “and I received a reply from Benton.”

  “I can’t believe it. I never thought that idiot, Richard Slater, would bother to answer.”

  “I haven’t peeked at it yet. We can read it together—in my office.”

  The request sounded decadent and dangerous. In light of how they acted when they were alone, it was reckless to accompany him, but how could she refuse?

  “Yes, let’s read it in your office,” she said. “I can’t wait to discover how Mr. Slater has explained himself.”

  “I’m guessing this will astonish you, but you received a letter too.”

  “From that cur, Mr. Slater? How dare he contact me!”

  “It’s not from Slater. It’s from a female. Josephine Bates?”

  “Miss Bates wrote to me?” Winnie was stunned. “How absolutely fabulous. I can’t imagine how she found me.”

  They exited, strolling side by side. Their proximity was torture, and she yearned to snuggle herself to him, but servants were coming and going, so she couldn’t stand too close.

  At the office door, she entered, then he walked in behind her. As she approached his desk, he stepped in and crushed her to it, his tall, lanky frame pressed to her backside all the way down. He kissed her neck and nibbled at her nape.

  “It drives me wild,” he murmured, “to bump into you, but to know I can’t touch you.”

  She elbowed him away. “Behave.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Well, try. For my sake, you have to maintain a level of decorum.”

  “I don’t mind if my cousins realize I’m besotted.”

  “I do. They wouldn’t like you to be obsessed with me, and you’re not besotted. Don’t be silly.”

  She peered over her shoulder, and he was gazing at her so intently that she was weak in the knees, as if she might swoon. The very idea—that a man could overwhelm her—was so foreign to her character that she couldn’t process it, but he had that effect.

  She elbowed him again and turned so she was facing him, but it simply provided the opening he needed to kiss her. She’d been hoping he would, but hoping he wouldn’t too. She was so confused!

  She felt as if she’d been dying of thirst, and he’d handed her a cold glass of water. She felt as if she’d been drowning, and he’d thrown her a rope. He was magnificent and exciting, and he made her crave a better future. But the past few years had taught her that it was futile to pine away, futile to expect more than what she’d been given.

  She shouldn’t count on him, shouldn’t assume he’d furnish any sort of rescue. He’d asked her to be his mistress, and she shouldn’t forget that he had.

  His lurid proposition indicated how little he respected her. He’d ruin her without worrying for a second where it might leave her. And still—still!—knowing all of that, she couldn’t stay away from him.

  This was how a young lady landed herself in deep trouble, and she had to stop what was happening, but she couldn’t figure out how. There was nothing quite so thrilling as having John Dunn’s undivided attention.

  He drew away and sauntered around the desk to sit in the chair behind it. He was completely relaxed and in his element, while she stood across from him, feeling bewildered and dazed and lost.

  He motioned to a chair, so she’d sit too, and she practically staggered over to it. As she eased down, she wished she could confess the issues that were vexing her, but he was so vain and imperious. He’d be humored to hear how thoroughly he’d befuddled her.

  He tossed a letter to her, then picked up his own.

  “Before we start,” he said, “I wanted to inform you that Bobby will be working for me.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Doing…whatever.”

  He was awfully vague about what Bobby’s tasks would entail, which seemed a tad suspicious. “It would be good for him to have some chores. He’s desperate to pitch in, so you’ll feel he’s earning his keep. I feel that way too.”

  “I’ve already decided how you can earn your keep.”

  He flashed a sala
cious grin that rattled her, but she ignored it. “I suppose it will be all right, so long as it doesn’t interfere with his school lessons. When autumn arrives, he’ll need to begin his studies again. Jane too. Will you let me nag at you to buy us some supplies?”

  “We’ll see if I’d like to be generous. By September, I’m sure you’ll have discovered numerous methods to make me happy.”

  “Don’t be vulgar and don’t be so confident. You might have met your match in me. I can be very stubborn.”

  “Not as stubborn as me.” He gestured to the two letters. “Shall I read mine first or will you?”

  “You go first. I’m anxious to learn how Mr. Slater responded to your inquiry.”

  He broke the seal, and as he perused the words, he frowned, then laughed.

  “Is it from Richard Slater?” she asked.

  “Yes, it’s from Mr. Slater. Is he the estate agent?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m delighted to report, Miss Watson, that he verifies your story. My sister, Rebecca, had an affair with Lord Benton. Jane is the product of that liaison, so she is my niece. But he adds that Bobby has no connection to me, and if I decline to offer him shelter, that’s fine with Slater. He would understand my reservations.”

  “That’s not funny,” she huffed. “Why were you laughing?”

  “I’m laughing because he advises me that you served as governess to Bobby and Jane, but you were impertinent and lazy and fired for sloth and insubordination. He states—if you beg me to give you a job—I should think long and hard before hiring you.”

  “He did not say all that about me.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  She leaned over and yanked the letter away. On seeing what Mr. Slater had penned, she was incensed. He’d taken out an ax and chopped up her character.

  “Ooh, I always hated that man,” she fumed.

  “He doesn’t appear to like you very much either. What did you do to him?”

  “Nothing! I was the perfect employee.”

  “Really?”

  She bristled, then admitted, “I might have generated a bit of animosity when I called him a cruel, heartless ass.”