Jilted by a Scoundrel

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Jilted by a Scoundrel Page 24

by Cheryl Holt


  “I’m thrilled by your efforts, Miss Watson.” He spoke loudly so everyone would hear his praise. “You have my explicit permission to commence any chore you desire so this castle is less of a burden to me. And you may crack the whip however you like in order to convince people to pitch in.”

  “I won’t have to crack anything,” she said. “I’m positive—now that you’ve announced how much you appreciate me—I’ll have all the help I need.”

  She flashed an exasperated look that told him she didn’t think so at all. He shrugged, wishing he could ease her way, but he couldn’t. No vital modifications would occur until he moved Melvina out of the castle. It was a step he had to take, but it would stir major discord and rancor, and at the current moment, he didn’t have the energy for such a bitter fight with his kin.

  “May I steal you away for a few minutes?” he asked her. “There’s a special task I’d like you to accomplish for me.”

  “Sorry, but no. I’m much too busy. Once we’re finished though, I’ll find you so you can compliment me on our marvelous job.”

  He sighed. He’d much rather frolic with her down in the hot springs pool than have his main hall cleaned, but with an audience watching, he couldn’t brazenly suggest it.

  Besides, he was busy too. He had to search for Freddie. If he’d left on his own, good. If he hadn’t, John would bodily throw him out on the road.

  Suddenly, there was a kerfuffle over in the corner. Melvina hurried in, two maids racing behind her. John braced, expecting her to pounce on Winnie for her daring labors, but she stopped in the center of the room and said, “Has anyone seen Ellen today?”

  There were general mutterings of, “No, I haven’t seen her.”

  Melvina stormed over to Winnie and John, and she whirled on Winnie. “What about you?”

  “No, I haven’t spoken to her since last night at the party,” Winnie replied.

  “And you?” Melvina asked John.

  “I didn’t even see her then. I assumed she was pouting in her bedchamber.”

  “The blasted fool!” Melvina mumbled. “The stupid, naïve, blasted fool!”

  “What is it?” John inquired. “What’s wrong?”

  Melvina lurched away from him—as if afraid he might strike her.

  “I guess Ellen didn’t listen to you.”

  “About what?”

  “Apparently, she has eloped to Scotland with Holden Cartwright.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “You have to chase after them. You have to find her and bring her back.”

  “Why would I do that? She specifically disobeyed me, so why would I bestir myself? Tell me that if you can!”

  Melvina observed as John flopped onto the chair behind his desk. After her dramatic pronouncement in the main hall, they’d trudged to his office. Several people had followed them—Miss Watson, Bobby, Jane, Huntly, and various cousins—and they were all hovering like vultures.

  “She’s your niece!” Melvina said on an exasperated sigh.

  “Just barely,” he snapped. “I hardly know her, and I don’t feel her idiocy is my problem to solve.”

  “She’s sixteen. She has no idea what she wants or needs. She’s still a girl.”

  “A girl who flouted my explicit order. If she’s old enough to choose her own path, she’s old enough to suffer the consequences.”

  Melvina was conflicted over Ellen’s mischief. Ellen was stubborn and willful, and she’d created her own predicament. Why not let her wallow in the aftermath?

  Then again, Melvina was her mother. She was supposed to guide and counsel the unruly miscreant, and this seemed like the time to exhibit a bit of maternal concern. She was trying to exhibit some, but her temper kept getting in the way.

  Ellen had sneaked out while everyone was distracted by the party. Her absence had been revealed almost by accident when a housemaid entered her room to make her bed only to discover it hadn’t been slept in. A note had been hidden under the pillow.

  “She’ll have learned her lesson,” Melvina said. “She’ll have tasted catastrophe, and after she’s home safe and sound, she’ll be more likely to heed you.”

  “I’m not sure of that,” John fumed. “I warned her about Holden, yet she sassed me and insisted I had no authority over her. Since that was her opinion, by what measure would you assume I owe her a duty?”

  “Please?” Melvina hated the begging tone in her voice, but she couldn’t help it.

  If Ellen escaped Dunworthy, one of her two children would be gone forever, and she’d just have Huntly remaining. That prospect was like having no child at all.

  “Holden Cartwright is no saint,” John went on, “so he’ll have ruined her. What’s the point of dragging her back? What precisely would we be hoping to prevent?”

  “We can’t save her from her fate, but we can save her from him.”

  “Again, Melvina, why should I? You haven’t given me a good reason.”

  “Once she’s on the road with him, I’m positive she’ll realize her mistake, and she’ll expect to be rescued. I can’t bear to imagine her constantly peeking over her shoulder, praying you’re about to arrive, but you’re not coming.”

  Miss Watson butted in. “May I comment?”

  Melvina whirled on her. “No, you may not, Miss Watson. In fact, all of you out! Out!”

  She started pushing the crowd toward the door, but John said, “Miss Watson? You stay.”

  At the declaration, Melvina was incensed. Miss Watson shouldn’t be allowed to interfere, but she was a brazen hussy who was delighted by John singling her out. She tarried while the others plodded off. They loitered in the hall, eager to eavesdrop from there, but Melvina slammed the door in their faces.

  After it was quiet, John said, “What is it, Winnie?”

  With his use of her Christian name, Melvina blanched and was unable to tamp down her bitter words. “So it’s Winnie, is it? Seriously? Is that where you are with her?”

  “Be silent, Melvina,” he seethed, “or I’ll kick you out too and talk to her alone.”

  He looked angry enough to throw her out, and she wasn’t about to have him converse privately with the pathetic shrew, so she muttered, “I’ll shut up.”

  He stared at Miss Watson. “You were saying, Winnie?”

  “I wish you’d go after her.”

  “Not you too,” he groaned. “I’m not in the mood to be harangued about this.”

  “I won’t harangue. It’s merely that I have a history with Holden Cartwright, so I’m very afraid for her.”

  “What history?” he asked. “You never told me how you’re acquainted with him.”

  “Remember when I confessed to being jilted at the altar? He was the betrothed who skipped out when I wasn’t watching.”

  John wasn’t shocked in the least. “I’m not surprised.”

  “He’d ingratiated himself to my father, and we had a brief courtship. Then my father died suddenly, and it turned out he was penniless. I had just been informed about the situation right before the ceremony. I apprised Mr. Cartwright when we were riding to the church.”

  “I don’t suppose he took the news very well.”

  “No. He escorted me into the vestibule, then claimed he’d left a gift for me out in the carriage. He went to get it, and I never saw him again.”

  “You’re lucky you didn’t,” John said. “From what I know about him, you dodged a bullet.”

  “I understand that now, but at the time, I was devastated. I was only seventeen.”

  “I’m sorry that happened to you, but I’m not sorry too. You were better off without him.”

  “Since that terrible day, I’ve pondered his quick interest in me, and I’m not certain he ever intended to wed me. Or maybe he intended it, but he planned to steal all my money and leave me destitute. In the end, I didn’t have any money, so there was no reason for him to stay.”

  “He’s an amoral fiend, so if
he’d become your husband, he might have done anything to you.”

  “I agree, so he might do anything to Ellen. We can’t let him simply run off with her like this. Whatever ruse he employed to coerce her into going, he’ll abandon her along the way.”

  Melvina jumped in. “Abandon her! Egad, John, you can’t permit that.”

  John glared at Melvina. “Holden never engages in any conduct unless there is a financial reward in it. Ellen would have had to supply him with jewels or property or…or…some other item of value. What might she have dangled that would have caught his attention?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “He was aware—if he absconded with her—he’d incur my wrath. Why would he risk it?”

  Melvina truly couldn’t guess. “Ellen doesn’t have a penny to her name, and she definitely doesn’t have jewels or property.”

  “Would you have had money somewhere that she might have taken?”

  Melvina kept her expression carefully blank. She regularly stole from the castle coffers, but she didn’t feel guilty about it. She’d always been in charge, but she’d received no financial compensation. Why shouldn’t she pilfer a few pounds here and there? It seemed only fair.

  Could Ellen have discovered her secret stash? Mentally, she scoffed. No one knew about it, but the instant she could escape John’s office, she’d check to be sure.

  “I don’t have any money either,” she lied. “It’s not as if my title of castle mistress has ever provided fiscal rewards.”

  Miss Watson butted in again. “John, your questions make me even more afraid for Ellen. If she has some sort of asset, and she gives it to him, he’ll desert her once it’s in his pocket.”

  “Don’t try to stir my compassion. You can’t.”

  “All right,” Miss Watson said, “I won’t tug at your sympathy for her, but might I tug at it for me?”

  “Over what issue?”

  “I wish he’d paid a price for how he treated me, and now, he’ll have ruined Ellen. I’d like him to pay a price for that too. And you haven’t begun to explain how you are acquainted with him. What did he do to you?”

  John drummed his fingers on the desktop, wondering if he should clarify his connection to Mr. Cartwright. Ultimately, he admitted, “Holden Cartwright is responsible for the duel I fought and for my being kicked out of the army.”

  “Oh, no,” Miss Watson murmured.

  “If the petty criminal owes a debt to any of his victims, it probably starts with me.”

  He and Miss Watson shared a potent look that indicated significant affection, then she asked, “Shouldn’t your entanglement with him spur you to chase after him? After all, you’ve witnessed how destructive he can be.”

  “You’re correct, Winnie, but if I cross paths with him, I’ll kill him. I’ve been struggling to convince myself I shouldn’t. He’s not worth it, is he?”

  “No,” Miss Watson hurried to concur. “He’s not worth it.”

  “I’d be hanged for it, when he is the one who should suffer any punishment.”

  “It’s fine with me if you kill him,” Melvina said. “If he’s hurt Ellen, I’d love to have that penalty imposed.”

  Miss Watson glowered at Melvina, then at John. “There will be no killing. In devising consequences, I was thinking more along the lines of a suit for breach of promise that would send him to jail. If he was imprisoned for a few years, he wouldn’t be able to harm anyone else’s daughter.”

  “That’s all well and good, Miss Watson,” Melvina sneered, “but here on Dunworthy Island, we like our justice served a bit hotter.” Melvina stared at John. “I’m on your side, John. Capture the deceptive brute and murder him.”

  John studied them, and Melvina could practically see the wheels spinning in his mind. Whose advice would he follow? Which woman would he heed?

  Finally, he stood and went to the door. The eavesdroppers were still there, and he asked Bobby, “Is Freddie in the castle?”

  “No. He left at first light. He was observed slinking away, and I searched his room. It’s empty.”

  John shut the door, and as he returned to the desk, Miss Watson asked, “What did you need with Mr. Townsend?”

  “I thought he might tell us where Holden was headed.”

  “Aren’t they on their way to Scotland?” Miss Watson peered over at Melvina. “Isn’t that what Ellen’s letter said?”

  “Yes. She believes they’re eloping.”

  “I’m certain they’re not.” Miss Watson shifted her attention to John. “It can’t be that difficult to locate them. Just ride north.”

  “There are several routes they could take,” he replied. “It would be impossible to track them.”

  “Pick the road that is quickest to travel,” Miss Watson pointed out. “Holden will swiftly put as much distance as he can between himself and Dunworthy.”

  John nodded. “I suppose.”

  He stomped to the door again, and he yanked it open so violently that people scattered, fearing he’d run them over. He appeared that determined.

  “Where are you going?” Melvina asked him.

  “To fetch her home, and you’ll owe me. This will be such a favor I doubt you’ll ever sufficiently repay me.”

  “What if you don’t find her?” Miss Watson inquired.

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” he said.

  “What if you do find her, and she’s in a bad condition?”

  “I’ll cross that bridge too.”

  “How long will you be away?”

  “A few days? A few weeks? I’ll send messages to keep you updated.”

  “Thank you,” Miss Watson said. “I realize you don’t want to be roped into this.”

  “I don’t!” he churlishly stated.

  “Thank you anyway.”

  He snorted with disgust, then muttered, “As if I could refuse you any request.”

  He and Miss Watson shared a desperate, intimate look. It was obvious he yearned to kiss her goodbye, but with so many curious spectators, he didn’t dare.

  He stormed off, and Miss Watson gazed gloomily, as if she’d just lost her last friend. What was John’s ploy? What was the doomed pair contemplating? They couldn’t imagine they were sailing toward a viable conclusion.

  Not if Melvina had anything to say about it—and she had plenty to say.

  She pushed past Miss Watson and exited into the hall.

  Freddie was hiding in a crofter’s cottage. She had to talk to him at once so they could implement their plan with regard to Miss Watson. While John was away, the mice would definitely play.

  First though, she had to check her moneybox. She raced away and flitted up the stairs to her bedchamber. She locked the door, then rushed to the fireplace and pulled out the loose brick. The box was there, and she breathed a sigh of relief, but it was fleeting.

  As she lifted it out, she instantly knew from the weight that it was empty. She jerked off the lid, and the sight was so shocking that her mind couldn’t process it. She gaped like a halfwit, then staggered to the bed and buried her face in a pillow so no one would hear her screams of outrage.

  * * * *

  “You’re so lovely, Ellen.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  Holden smiled at her, concealing a smirk over how she was cowering under the blankets on the bed. They were in the room he’d rented at a coaching inn where they’d been forced to stop for the night. He hadn’t wanted to bother paying for a room, but more importantly, he hadn’t wanted anyone to remember them passing through.

  If he’d been on his own, he’d have been happy in a barn or under a copse of trees, but poor, deceived Ellen assumed he was rich, but short on funds. When dusk had settled in, it had been raining. He couldn’t have suggested they camp in the woods.

  Ellen had blithely given him the money she’d stolen from her mother, and he’d had to squander some of it to secure their lodging. He mi
ght buy her breakfast, but that was the extent of the benefit she’d receive from him.

  Freddie had claimed John and his niece weren’t close, that John would never chase after her, but Holden was certain he would. John had often threatened to murder Holden, and Holden was sure he’d meant every word, but when Holden was threatened, there were consequences. It was the reason he’d seduced Ellen.

  John Dunn would be galled forever by Holden ruining his direct relative. John’s ego was so inflated. He’d never recover from Holden’s audacity.

  By now, he’d have learned that Ellen was with Holden. Holden had told her to keep their elopement a secret, but she’d admitted that she’d penned a note to her mother so she wouldn’t worry.

  Holden’s name was toxic to John, and honor would demand that he extract some revenge for Holden’s rash act. No doubt John was galloping north like the wind, so Holden had to get moving.

  He couldn’t abide innocent maidens like Ellen, but then, if it weren’t for foolish girls, he’d never succeed at any of his schemes. They were all so stupidly trusting, and it was so easy to take advantage of them.

  He supposed he ought to be a tad ashamed of himself, but he never was. From his earliest memories, it seemed as if he’d been born with a part that was missing. He simply didn’t care what others thought, and he was never concerned about the ramifications a female might suffer after he left her in the lurch. In his view, they deserved the damage he inflicted.

  He was a brilliant, cunning, and meticulous man who was smarter than most everyone else. His sharp intellect was a blessing and a curse. It made him feel entitled to what he pilfered from others, but it made him despair too. Humans were such idiots! They practically begged to be cheated.

  As he studied Ellen, there were no pangs of remorse. If she’d been tricked, how was it his fault? She was so desperate to live a better life, and it was pathetic really, how gullible she’d been.

  “I’m going down to have breakfast,” he said.

  “Would you like me to come with you?”

 

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