Jilted by a Scoundrel

by Cheryl Holt

  The conspirators shared sly glances, but Melvina ignored them. “You won’t believe where she is.”

  He froze. “Why won’t I?”

  “She left Dunworthy.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as you trotted off after Ellen. She claimed she’d been planning to depart, but you had prevented her. With you being away from the castle, she viewed it as the perfect opportunity to sneak away.”

  “She wouldn’t have left.” He frowned and whirled around. “Where’s Bobby? Bobby! I need you to attend me.”

  “He went with her.”

  He narrowed his gaze as if he couldn’t bring Melvina into focus. “He what?”

  “She took the boy with her. She said he wasn’t a Dunn, and he didn’t belong with us. She was angry about the oath and the mark on his arm. She was particularly incensed about that. She said she wouldn’t leave him here when it was the sort of place where he could be maimed like that.”

  “Why didn’t you stop her?”

  “How could I have? I don’t have any authority over her—or over him for that matter.”

  “He wanted to go? He was willing?”

  “Yes.” Melvina shrugged. “I told him you wouldn’t like it, but he insisted he couldn’t let her traipse off on her own.”

  “And Jane? Where is she?”

  “Jane…ah…is still here. Miss Watson tried to persuade her to go too, but she felt they were being foolish, and she refused.”

  Melvina kept her expression carefully blank, but mentally, she was in a furious state. This was the reason she’d required a protracted interval to prepare for John’s arrival. She’d needed to assess the details of her lies so they would mesh appropriately.

  She’d needed to confer with her cousins too, to ensure they understood the ramifications of John learning the facts. She yearned to cast a glower at the spectators that would warn them to be silent—they all had to stick to the same story—but she couldn’t display any hint of complicity.

  She might have succeeded with the ruse, might have tricked him and shifted him to a different topic, but suddenly, Huntly waddled in from the courtyard. He had a boy with him whom she didn’t recognize. He was slender and dressed in rough clothes. A wool cap shielded his face.

  “Lord John!” Huntly called. “Am I glad to see you!”

  Huntly’s companion astonished her by calling out too. “Lord John! Lord John! It’s me! It’s Jane.”

  He yanked off his cap to show it actually was Jane. She’d cut her hair and attired herself as a boy, and on observing her—precisely where she shouldn’t have been—Melvina nearly fainted. Why wasn’t she imprisoned in her bedchamber?

  “What the devil?” Melvina muttered as John simultaneously muttered, “Jane? What have you done to yourself?”

  Jane ran up to him, and a litany of complaints flew out of her mouth.

  “Mistress Dunn locked me in my room! She scared me and threatened me, so I’ve been hiding.”

  “That better not be true,” John fumed as Jane swiftly continued.

  “Huntly helped me, but he’s afraid of her too. She convened a judicial court against Miss Watson and Bobby. She waited until you were gone, then she sent them away in a carriage with Mr. Townsend. Your relatives assisted her. They tied Miss Watson’s hands with a rope—as if she were a criminal!”

  There was a sharp, collective inhale of breath, and the men who’d aided Melvina took a cowardly step away from her. John twirled in a very slow circle, his murderous gaze landing on each person in turn. When he stopped on Melvina, she stiffened, realizing she had to seize the offensive and seize it fast.

  “She’s lying!” Melvina grabbed Jane by the ear, pinching hard.

  Jane wiggled away to beseech her uncle. “Don’t believe her, Lord John. Ask Huntly! He knows what happened.”

  Every eye swung to Huntly. Melvina’s in particular. Would he remember to be quiet? A Dunn never sided with a stranger. How could she remind him in time to save herself?

  “Well, Huntly?” John inquired.

  “Ah…ah…”

  As usual, he came across like a blithering dunce, but just as she might have relaxed, Jane said, “Don’t be frightened, Huntly. Tell Lord John what you saw. You’re not in any trouble.”

  “But I didn’t see anything. I was locked in too.” Everyone sagged with relief, then he added, “I heard some cousins talking afterward though. They saw. They were here when it occurred.”

  “Go on,” John said, but Melvina jumped in before he could.

  “Huntly! Shut up! You will not lie for Jane. I can’t imagine what she’s promised you, but I won’t permit it.”

  She marched over to him, ready to escort him out, but John blocked her way.

  “What did you hear, Huntly?” John asked.

  “It’s as Jane told you, Lord John. Melvina convened a judicial court, and she kicked them out.”

  “Mr. Townsend took them away?”

  “Yes,” Huntly replied.

  “Which cousins, Huntly?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Which cousins?” John repeated, his livid glare sweeping over them. “Who will confess his perfidy? Who is brave enough?”

  There was some feet shuffling, some mumbles and grumbling, and when a few men tried to slink away, John shouted, “No one leaves until I say so!”

  The spectators froze, and finally, a man plodded forward. “The children are correct, Lord John. We all participated.”

  “Why?”

  “We didn’t like Miss Watson. We thought she was pompous. She bossed us, and Melvina declared we could force her out.”

  “And Bobby?”

  “We didn’t feel you should have allowed him to take the oath. It wasn’t right.”

  Several dolts joined in, muttering together, “It wasn’t right.”

  “Who owns this castle?” John asked all of them.

  “You do,” the men murmured.

  “Who is lord and master here?”

  “You are.”

  “Yes, I am, so let me be very clear.” He appeared so enraged it was a wonder the top of his head didn’t blow off. “If I want to invite a guest to stay, I will. If I want to have a stranger pledge himself to me, I will. If I want to have an annoying harpy clean the kitchen and straighten this hall, I will!” He pounded a dramatic fist on a table. “Who admitted Freddy Townsend into my home?”

  More hemming and hawing followed, then every condemning finger pointed directly at Melvina. She attempted to skitter away, but John grabbed her by the throat.

  “You steal from me!” he charged.

  “I don’t!” she insisted. “I haven’t ever!”

  “You lie to me. You cheat and embezzle. You deceive me and trick me. You’re lazy and unreliable, and you’re foolish too. How would you dare to welcome Freddie Townsend?”

  “I didn’t! I wouldn’t!”

  She was prying at his hands, struggling to escape, but she couldn’t free herself.

  John roared, “When I gave the order that Freddie was to never be permitted inside again, was there a person who did not understand? If so, speak up at once.”

  There was no response, for of course, they’d understood it. They simply hadn’t chosen to heed him. Why should they have? He’d left, and they’d expected him to be gone for weeks. How could they have guessed he’d stroll in after hardly being away at all?

  “Where has he taken them?” he hissed at Melvina.

  “I have no idea,” she said because she didn’t.

  He tightened his grip and shouted, “Tell me!”

  A cousin intervened to pull John’s attention away from Melvina before he choked her to death. “Freddie’s destination was the harbor in Falmouth. I suppose it will be easy enough to find them there. Melvina let him use a carriage.”

  “How long ago did they leave?” John asked.

  “Not long. I’m surprised you didn’t pass the
m on the road.”

  “What is his plan for them after they arrive?”

  “He didn’t mention their fate to me, but Melvina didn’t seem to think they’d ever be back.”

  John loosed his grip and threw her away as if she were a bag of rubbish. She landed on her feet, but the impact was so fierce her knees buckled. She staggered and caught herself against a table so she didn’t collapse to the floor.

  As their quarrel had escalated, more relatives had drifted in. John saw Cook Tim who Miss Watson had appointed to manage the kitchen.

  “Tim, come here!” John waved the boy over.

  Looking alarmed, Tim hesitated, then rushed up. “Yes, Lord John? What is it?”

  “Have you heard about Melvina’s mischief with Miss Watson and Bobby Prescott?”

  Tim scornfully glanced at her, then admitted, “Yes, Lord John. But I had no prior knowledge of it, and I had no part in it. I swear to you. I liked Miss Watson very much.”

  “I’m going to ride after her and Bobby,” John said. “While I’m away, you’re in charge.”

  “I couldn’t be, Lord John.”

  “You will be. Apparently, you are the only one I can trust.”

  “Ah…ah…all right.”

  “Jane and Huntly will help you.” They straightened, proud at being singled out, as John went on. “Your kitchen workers will help you too. Your first duty—at my command—is to lock Melvina in the dungeon. She will remain there and be fed rations of bread and water. She is not to be released for any reason.”

  Melvina bristled. “You can’t jail me! I am Mistress of Dunworthy!”

  “Not anymore,” John replied. “From this moment on, I revoke any authority or privileges you enjoyed. As far as I am concerned, you have no special status.”

  “You can’t remove me.”

  “Weren’t you listening, Melvina? I already have.” He leaned in so they were nose to nose. “I’ll deal with you later. Best prepare yourself.”

  She gulped with dismay. “I didn’t hurt them! I’m sure they’re fine.”

  “You should hope so because—whatever Freddie has done to them—I will do to you, and I will do it twice as painfully.” He peered about, growing impatient. “Who still has some rope from when Miss Watson was bound?”

  A traitorous cousin handed him a piece, and John promptly tied Melvina’s wrists, then he motioned to Tim.

  “Take her away, and remember my instructions. She’s to be imprisoned until I’m back.”

  “How long will you be?” Tim asked.

  “I won’t return until I have Bobby and Miss Watson with me.”

  “What if I have trouble?”

  “You won’t have trouble. Jane will write notes in my ledger. Huntly will spy and eavesdrop to keep watch for you. They will track everything that happens, and Jane will report any infractions to me.”

  “We will, Lord John,” Jane said, and Huntly vigorously nodded.

  “Any miscreants will be agonizingly punished. By me!” John’s livid glare swept the crowd again. “While I’m away, you had better scour your consciences. Once I’m home, I will hold court, and all of you will be on trial. You will be allowed to state your case as to why you should stay at Dunworthy. You will honestly confess how much you’ve stolen from me and how disloyal you’ve been. Then I will decide who is genuinely contrite and who will continue to reside with me.” He scoffed. “I don’t think any of you should count on remaining, so you should probably start making other plans.”

  “You can’t mean it, John!” Melvina wailed on behalf of everyone.

  “Be silent, Melvina, or I’ll gag you too.”

  “But…but…if we don’t live here, where would we live?”

  “Perhaps you should have considered the answer to that question prior to betraying me.”

  With that retort deftly hurled, he marched over and stuffed a kerchief in her mouth, gagging her as he’d threatened. She’d never been more humiliated, and she tried to spit it out, but couldn’t.

  Jane and Huntly increased her hatred of them by laughing and clapping. A few of her kin who’d always despised her laughed too. Even those who were the most steadfast smirked at seeing her brought low.

  “Get her out of my sight,” John said to Tim.

  Tim and his assistant grabbed her, but she wrestled and fought them, so two more of his staff helped to restrain her. They dragged her out, and she was whisked toward the dungeon. Despite how she cursed and struggled, Tim was very determined, and she couldn’t stop him.

  In a matter of minutes, she was deep in the bowels of the castle. Tim shoved her into the first cell, then he slammed and barred the door. He and the other men walked away, and she was left alone in the dark and the quiet with just the rats for company.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Stop the carriage!”

  Mr. Townsend didn’t listen to Bobby. Not that Bobby had expected he would, but Rex was suddenly running behind them and barking to get Bobby’s attention. He popped up to look out the window, but Mr. Townsend grabbed his coat and tossed him onto the seat.

  “Shut up, you little prick,” Mr. Townsend said, and he kicked Bobby in the leg.

  “My dog is chasing us. He’s calling to me.”

  “So?”

  “He’ll drop dead from exhaustion rather than abandon me.”

  “Why would I concern myself with your paltry problems?”

  “Let him have his dog, Mr. Townsend,” Miss Watson said. “How can it hurt?”

  “It can’t hurt or help, Miss Watson, because I don’t give two figs about his stupid dog. If it runs until its heart bursts, so be it.”

  Since they’d left the castle, Bobby had been lying down, pretending to be injured and cowed. In reality, he’d been pondering and plotting. Mr. Townsend was bigger and meaner and extremely determined. His hatred of Miss Watson was particularly acute, and his animosity toward her was perplexing.

  He and Miss Watson were barely acquainted, but the fiend had allied himself with Melvina Dunn. Bobby understood Melvina’s hostility. Miss Watson had proved Melvina to be totally incompetent, but what was Mr. Townsend’s issue with her?

  Bobby had no idea, but it didn’t matter. The deranged man was dangerous, and it was obvious he had a conclusion in mind with regard to them. He seemed certain they would never slither back to Dunworthy or be able to contact Lord John.

  How could he keep them away forever? Was he planning to…to…murder them? What other explanation could there be?

  Bobby refused to accept that possibility. Mr. Townsend had mentioned they were headed to the harbor in Falmouth. Why? Would they be indentured to an unscrupulous ship captain and conveyed to America, never to be heard from again?

  Unless he’d arranged that sort of drastic end, how could he be so confident that Bobby and Miss Watson would vanish?

  Bobby had to protect Miss Watson, had to rescue her and return to Lord John’s side. How would he?

  “Where are you taking us?” he asked Mr. Townsend.

  “That’s none of your business,” Mr. Townsend replied.

  “You’re wrong. It’s absolutely my business. What are you thinking? Will you kill us?”

  Miss Watson blanched. “Bobby! What a bizarre question. Mr. Townsend wouldn’t consider such a heinous act.”

  “Wouldn’t he?” Bobby glared at Mr. Townsend. “I notice you haven’t answered me. I’m betting you’re too cowardly to murder us, so what else could it be? Will you sell us to a corrupt sea captain who’ll whisk us out of England? Is that your scheme? Otherwise, how can you guarantee we never speak to Lord John again?”

  “I’ll probably kill you, Bobby. It would definitely cheer me to be shed of you.”

  “Mr. Townsend!” Miss Watson scolded. “Honestly. What’s come over you?”

  Bobby ignored her and told Mr. Townsend, “You’re not brave enough to kill me.”

  “You better hope not or your days are numbe
red.”

  “Tough talk, Freddie. I’m sure you scare all the young boys you threaten, but you don’t scare me.”

  “You have a smart mouth, Bobby, and I don’t like you.”

  “Well, we’re even then. I don’t like you either.”

  “As to Miss Watson, I haven’t quite decided about her. I have so many options, but I’ll likely sell her to a brothel. I’d earn a fortune for her.”

  “Mr. Townsend!” Miss Watson snapped. “How could you utter such a horrid word in our presence? Quit being so awful.”

  “You have a smart mouth too, Miss Watson,” Mr. Townsend said. “I predict that a few weeks in a whorehouse will tamp down that attitude of yours. The owners I’ve met whip the girls who sass them.”

  Miss Watson peered over at Bobby. “Don’t listen to him. He’s trying to frighten us, and we won’t be frightened.”

  “I’m not frightened, Miss Watson. I swear I’ll get you out of this mess.”

  “I’m positive you will. I have complete faith in you.”

  They all relaxed, the tense moment waning. Mr. Townsend was distracted as he stared out the window at the scenery.

  How far was it to Falmouth? Bobby figured it was far enough that there would be no relatives who’d tattle to Lord John, and near enough that Mr. Townsend wouldn’t have to spend too much time delivering them to their fate. Bobby was determined to foil Mr. Townsend and willing to implement any deed to thwart him.

  He pretended to relax too, then, with a furtive warning glance to Miss Watson, he lunged off the seat and threw his body into Mr. Townsend as hard as he could. Their heads butted together with a loud crack, and a cut immediately appeared on Mr. Townsend’s forehead. Blood spurted out and dripped down his cheek.

  “Dammit!” he fumed as he swiped it away.

  Bobby rammed him again, as he shouted to Miss Watson, “Open the door, Miss Watson. Help me shove him out!”

  The problem was that their wrists were bound. Bobby’s were tied behind his back, and Miss Watson’s tied in front, so their mobility was greatly restricted.

  Mr. Townsend had barred the door with a strip of leather, and she struggled with the knot, as Mr. Townsend pushed her away and swatted at Bobby. Despite their wrestling, she managed to yank away the strip, and she tugged on the latch. The door swung wide, and Bobby could see outside. They were in thick woods, and the carriage was traveling very fast.