by H. C. Brown
“You are looking exceedingly well, old chap.” Rupert bowed and gave him a leg. “Lord Bracken has offered me the use of the library to conduct our business.” He led the way through the house and down a passageway. “I must remove myself from the noise. Christ, are my ears deceiving me or have fine ladies so much gossip to discuss they have commenced cackling like a flock of geese?”
Drew followed him along a corridor smelling of beeswax polish. He chuckled. “Aye, would seem they do.” He moved to Rupert’s side, anxious for some news. “Were you able to purchase some mares for me?”
“Yes, indeed.” Rupert stopped beside a pair of double doors and gave the footman standing in the hallway a curt nod. “See that we are not disturbed.” He stepped inside the book-lined room and strode toward a table holding a large decanter of whisky and two glasses.
The library had the refinement of elegance, but the lived-in feel was missing. He dropped into a comfortable chair beside the marble fireplace and stretched his legs. “Will they be ready to travel home wi’ me? If not, I will arrange for Jamie to meet the ship at Inverness.” He grinned. “I have a few ah … meetings to attend to along the French coast in the next month or two.”
“Christ, tell me you have refrained from conducting business as Le Diable Noir?” Rupert’s eyes widened and he groped for the bottle of spirit. “How much longer do you expect to continue in this outrageous fashion before someone of consequence recognizes you?” He poured two drinks then gulped down a glass of whisky in an obvious state of distress “Do stop grinning at me as if you are deranged. Smuggling will see you hanged and well you know it.”
“Dinna fash, nayone will recognize me behind the mask. It does not signify. The people I do business with do not move in polite society.” He winked. “As Le Diable Noir, I do not dress in the mode of Monsieur Mackenzie, le formidable French wine importer or as a Highlander.” He took the glass Rupert pushed toward him and took a sip. “Now will ye forget about ma affairs and tell me how many mares ye have purchased?”
“Very well, I managed to acquire two mares of excellent breeding from Lord Bradshaw but had the chance to meet with a gentleman from France. You may be acquainted with him, Lord Moreau?” Rupert raised both eyebrows.
Disgust roiled his stomach and he snorted. “Och aye, I ken the wee gomeral. Ye dinna do business wi’ the likes of him did ye?”
“No, I am not daft.” Rupert sat in the chair opposite. He gave him a look of disdain over the rim of his glass. “I overheard him speaking to Lord Bradshaw about a gentleman selling his stock. Apparently, the Honorable Peter Ramsbottom is the proprietor of a very exclusive breeding establishment in Surrey and Lord Moreau was most inclined to purchase a stallion for his benefactor, one Baron du Court.”
“Ye are correct. I would dearly love to obtain one of his verra fine mares.” He leaned forward in his chair and gripped Rupert’s arm. “Tell me, ye secured at least one of Ramsbottom’s mares for me?”
“I would appreciate it greatly if you restrained your enthusiasm. You are breaking my arm.” Rupert’s face had drained of color.
Drew removed his hand and grinned. “Och, I ken verra well, ye have some muscle protecting your bones under that fine garb. Now stop your blathering and tell me about Ramsbottom’s mares.”
“Well, I spoke to the gentleman in question and had the pleasure of inspecting his stables. After a considerably long negotiation over four bottles of French wine, it would seem he is not only willing to sell the mares but will have them covered by his Destrier stallion as part of the agreement.” Rupert plucked at an invisible piece of fluff on his sleeve then shrugged. “Apparently, Lord Moreau was a little short of the funds required to purchase the stallion or indeed any of the mares at this time. I was most fortunate as Ramsbottom was more than happy to negotiate a sale with me.” His mouth curled into a satisfied smile. “In all I have purchased six mares, two from Lord Bradshaw and four of the finest mares from Ramsbottom.”
Elation drained from Drew. He did not have the funds available to pay for so many mares. After making a recent investment in a French winery, he would have to wait until next quarter to obtain his share of the profits.
Damnation. He rubbed his chin. “I gather ye will require a wee bit more money to pay for these fine mares?”
“Ah, well quite a lot more, actually.” Rupert’s expression was unreadable.
“I am verra sorry to place ye in such an untenable position, but I will not be able to raise the funds overnight.” He had perhaps one hundred guineas in his purse intended for his father on his return to Badenoch. “I did mention my recent investment in French wine, did I not? If ye need more money now, I will have to sell ma townhouse but that could take months.”
“No, I would not hear of such a thing. The amount you gave me was ample for the two mares from Lord Bradshaw.” Lord Rupert arranged the lace on his cuff before meeting his gaze. “As you know, I have always wanted an excuse to leave London. How would you feel about making me a partner in your stables? I have the means to pay for all the mares and any others you may require.” He cleared his throat. “You have the finest stables in Scotland, two fine stallions, and mares of your own. I do understand the imposition, but I would only require a small percentage of the profits.”
He gaped at him in disbelief. “Ye mean ye want to leave all this behind and move to Badenoch?” He waved a hand to encompass the entire room. “Have ye gone daft?”
“No, as it happens, I am of quite sound mind.” Rupert’s mouth lifted in a beatific smile and raised his glass in a mock toast. “Of course, the contract I signed ensured the mares would be covered by the stallion before I settle the account and I would be most happy to escort them to Inverness.” He met Drew’s gaze over the rim of his glass. “Are we in agreement?”
Astonished, Drew raised his glass. “Aye. Slainte.” He emptied his glass and met Rupert’s wistful expression. “Why do ye want to leave your home? Are ye in trouble?”
“No, I am not in trouble.” Rupert smiled ruefully. “What possible attraction does London have for me? I am the second spare, not the heir. At two and five, I have come into my fortune and have no plans to marry or set up a nursery. Life here is fashion, chits on their first come out fluttering their eyelashes at me, and widows trying to get me into their beds.” He sighed. “I have fond memories of the holidays I spent with Mother at Badenoch. I miss the freedom and the companionship of my clan—of you and your brothers.” He chuckled. “Oh, don’t look so appalled, mo bhilis. In case it has slipped your mind, my mother made a point of residing at Badenoch for my birth, so in truth, and much to my father’s displeasure, I am indeed Scottish, and would prefer to live there.”
Many years had passed since Rupert had visited Scotland and it warmed his heart to hear he had not forgotten the Gaelic. He grinned and offered his hand. “Then partners it shall be but an even split, aye? Ye will be verra welcome at Badenoch and aye, I have missed ye too, ye wee fop.” He took a sip of his whisky enjoying the rich malt flavor spilling over his taste buds. “I will write to Da and let him ken ye will be returning to the fold. He will be verra pleased to see ye again. What has it been, eight years or more?”
The door flying open and heavy footfalls entering the room prevented Rupert’s reply. Drew placed the glass on the table and pushed to his feet to greet the six men regarding him with menace. Christ, what in Hades have I done now? The ringleader of the group puffed out his chest like a rooster and his thin mouth turned down at the corners.
“How dare you, sir.” The intruder remained ensconced in his company rather than moving to confront him. The gentleman, for he was indeed a gentleman from the diamond pin in his cravat and the heavy gold watch chain attached to one buttonhole of his blue velvet waistcoat, raised a bony finger and pointed at him. “I insist you keep your lecherous intentions away from my daughter or face the consequences.”
Chapter Two
“Gentlemen.” Lord Rupert sprang from his chair and moved betwe
en them his hands outstretched. “You must be mistaken, Mister Ma—”
“Get out of my way, Bainbridge, this is none of your concern. My business is with that despicable fortune hunter.”
Drew racked his brain for a reply having no notion to whom he had insulted. To be sure, he had not sought comfort with a woman since arriving in London. He bowed. “Your servant, sir, and to whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“I am Lord Beachwood, forth Earl of Sussex, physician to His Royal Highness King George.”
“Och aye, and ye are addressing Drew Alexander Lachlan Angus James Mackenzie, heir of Laird Mackenzie of Badenoch, and I dinna have the faintest idea to whom ye are referring.” He straightened to his full height and the group of men shrank back. He glared at Lord Beachwood. The one thing he despised above all was a man who hid behind his friends during a confrontation. “If it is your daughter ye believe I have disrespected, would it not be prudent to speak on the matter wi’ me in private?” He shrugged. “Unless ye believe we are beyond civilized discourse and ye wish to take the matter outside?”
“There will be no discussion, sir.” Lord Beachwood scowled at him. “I bring you a warning. The lady, you had the effrontery to accost outside the card room happens to be my daughter, Lady Adrianna. I will not have her turned about by the likes of you when Lord Balham has made his offer.” He indicated to a thin man beside him of about five and fifty. “I give you fair warning. I do not suffer fortune hunting gamesters sniffing around my daughter and should you so much as glance in her direction, I will inform her godfather, His Royal Highness King George, to send a garrison to Badenoch or wherever, to exterminate your entire clan. Do—I—make—myself—perfectly—clear?”
Drew cast his attention over the group of men and settled on Lord Bracken. The man had an expression of guilt and refused to meet his gaze. He had followed the desired protocol and Bracken had run straight to her father. The memory of the bonnie lass with the dancing blue eyes and happy smile filled his mind. To be sure, she had held him in an alluring spell from the moment their eyes met and now this pipsqueak would deny him the chance to call on her. Damnation!
“Well, Mackenzie, do you intend to reply, or am I speaking too fast for your sensibilities?”
Somewhat confused by the sudden turn of events, he rubbed his chin. “Aye, Lord Beachwood. I understand ye fine, but I am a trifle mystified as to why ye came charging into a private meeting and made assertions on ma good name wi’ out good reason. It was I believe ye good friend Lord Bracken who introduced me to your daughter?”
“No reason? You have overstepped your mark. We English do not behave in such a barbaric manner.” Lord Balham preened within the shelter of his friends. “I should call you out.”
“I would welcome it, ye wee sparrow.” Drew rolled his shoulders. “Outside now if ye please. I have ma second and I am sure one of these fine gentlemen will be more than happy to oblige ye?”
“Stand down, Balham.” Lord Rupert moved between them with his lips turned down in a scowl. “This is none of your affair.”
Lady Adrianna had welcomed his attendance and no wonder. Her lot in life was not so fine if her father had insisted she consider the likes of Lord Balham. Drew blinked and raked his mind for some reasonable explanation for this man’s accusations. He had not mistaken her eager countenance or subtle comment on her pleasure of meeting him. A rush of anger forced him to rethink the situation. To be sure, he would have to protect sweet Lady Adrianna from her intolerable father and dispel any notion of an attraction toward him.
Lord Beachwood puffed out his chest like a rooster readying to signal the approaching dawn.
“Good God man, you can hardly deny insisting Lord Bracken made the introduction nor can you deny forcing my daughter to accept your company to the ballroom.” He glared at him spittle forming at the corners of his mouth. “How could she have refused such an offer especially in front of her host? She likely believed you to be an acquaintance.”
Drew moved his attention back to Lord Beachwood. “Aye, I do recall having a brief discourse wi’ a verra respectable lady and I offered her my arm to prevent her being trapped in the crush. Indeed, she could not remove herself from my side soon enough.” He leveled his gaze on Lord Beachwood and raised a brow. “I must admit, I was surprised to find a fine lady dallying in the vicinity of gamesters. Perhaps ye should take better care of her, aye?”
“You impudent pup.” Lord Beachwood raised one hand as if to slap him obviously thought better of it and let his arm fall limply to his side.
Drew held the man’s angry gaze. “Would ye have preferred me to have left her alone in the presence of gamesters?”
“No, I would not. However, my information differs greatly to your account of events.” A satisfied smile crossed Lord Beachwood’s lips. “You were, I gather, in a hand of cards with Lord Bracken? He informed me the moment you set eyes on her you folded your hand, and went to her.”
He forced his muscles to relax in an effort to control the rising need to teach this arrogant popinjay a lesson in manners. “I dinna have to explain ma actions to ye, but as this is a matter of some importance to ye, I will acquiesce in this instance. As it happens, I agreed to meet Lord Rupert before the first set and merely passed the time in the card room awaiting his arrival. I folded ma hand, the moment the music started and left the room, not because I laid eyes upon your daughter.” He took a deep breath. “However, if the lady in question is affronted, I meant nay disrespect by asking Lord Bracken for an introduction. Indeed, if this is the case, may I attend her and offer ma apology for causing such grievous offense?”
“No, you may not.” The corner of Beachwood’s mouth turned up slightly into a sneer. “In fact, I suggest you leave this residence immediately. Return to the Highlands where scum like you belong.”
“Lord Beachwood, I must protest.” Lord Rupert stepped between them his hands outstretched. “There is no need for such insults. Mister Mackenzie has told you the truth.”
Drew squeezed Rupert’s shoulder. “He is a father protecting his daughter and I take nay offense.” He met Lord Beachwood’s flushed face with a smile. “I am sure ye dinna plan to take this matter further do ye now?”
“I do not have to challenge you to a duel to remove your presence from London.” Lord Beachwood gave a sarcastic laugh. “I could destroy you with one stroke of my pen.”
Lord Beachwood gave him pause to believe he had a hidden agenda for his daughter and from her reaction to his offer to call on her, one he had not discussed with her. Without doubt, the poor lass, is a pawn in a game of money or worse, power. He lifted his chin and smiled. “Will ye now? I think not. Many of your countrymen have business interests in Scotland and ma father is a powerful man.”
“You dare to insinuate your father is more powerful than the King of England?” Lord Beachwood scoffed. “I understood the Scots were bacon-brained, but you must have sawdust between your ears if you believe such a notion.”
“Sawdust for brains, is it?” He straightened and glared down at the man. “Are ye sure ye want to take responsibility for the end of dealings between England and France too? I am a particular friend of King Louis and he holds my counsel in such matters in high regard. Higher, I believe than King George relies on his physician’s opinion on trade. ”
He noticed the flush pinking the tips of Lord Beachwood’s ears and straightened. He refused to cower before this inconsequential little man—King Geordie’s physician, or no. “Ye are the one wi’ maggots in your head if ye believe I would disrespect your daughter. The notion does not signify, so ye may lay down your hackles.”
“How dare you speak to me in that fashion, sir?” Lord Beachwood’s face had turned an ugly plum color. “You will pay for such insolence.”
I would welcome crossing swords with an insufferable dunderhead like you. “You appear to be full of empty threats, sir, but if ye insist, get on wi’ it, and select your weapons, because ma time in London is limit
ed.” He waited for the space of ten heartbeats then inclined his head. “I thought as much.” He turned his back on the group. “Good day to ye.”
“There is no need for hostilities, no need at all.” Lord Rupert ushered the group from the room. “If you would be so kind as to give us some privacy to conclude our business.”
Drew refilled his drink and waited for the sound of footsteps to fade. He emptied the glass and waited for the whisky to steady his nerves. As a Scotsman alone in London, he had little choice but to remain calm and not cause trouble but damn it all to hell, Lord Beachwood’s dire threats had not quelled his flames of desire for Lady Adrianna. He had no doubt of her attraction toward him. In fact, the connection between them had burned as if fate had thrown them together. Christ, no other woman had affected his heart with a mere flutter of her eyelashes. He wanted to pursue Lady Adrianna Beachwood and it would seem she belonged to another. God help me, I am truly cursed.
“Well, I must say old chap that was interesting.” Rupert dropped into the chair opposite. “Did you act like a cad?”
“Nay, do ye really believe I am capable of disrespecting such a fine lady—any woman in fact?”
“No, well not intentionally but your reputation with the ladies in France is well known.” Rupert raised his glass. “Not that there is anything wrong with such pursuits. In fact, I do believe many gentlemen admire notoriety.”
Drew snorted. “I dinna believe ma reputation has anything to do wi’ Lord Beachwood’s outburst. He called me a ‘fortune hunting gamester,’ did he not? This is a reputation I have neither earned or desire.”
Although, if Lord Beachwood had caught wind of his escapades along the French coast, he would have reason enough to fear his interest in Lady Adrianna. No man of his status would risk his daughter being involved with a notorious smuggler. He sucked in a long breath and let it out slowly. “Why would he believe I am a threat to his daughter? I dinna ken the gentleman and I would assume, he has nay notion of ma business in France.”