AN Unexpected Gentleman

by Alissa Johnson

  Adelaide was inclined to agree. It was a fine speech. Unfortunately, it also confirmed the suspicion that he was a coward.

  “Allow me to make this right,” Sir Robert continued. He cleared his throat in a dramatic, and regrettably affected, manner. And then he said, “My dear Miss Ward, I most humbly and arduously beg the honor of your hand in marriage.”

  She had the sudden urge to yank her hand free and run.

  “Oh. Oh, I . . .” She looked around her with the vague and inexplicable notion that someone else might answer for her. “Er . . . Sir Robert . . .”

  “Don’t be a fool, Adelaide.” Connor’s voice was low and dangerous. It put the hair at the back of her neck on end.

  Lady Engsly was not similarly affected. She leaned over and hissed at him, “She’d be a fool not to accept, thanks to you.”

  “She has other options.”

  “Not unless you’ve offered for her,” Lady Engsly snapped. When he merely lifted a brow, she blinked and straightened in her chair. “Have you offered for her?”

  “I have.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Lady Engsly’s transformation was instant. Her pretty face lit up with a smile, and she very nearly bounded off the settee. “That changes things considerably.”

  Bewildered, Adelaide could only stare and sputter a few halfhearted protests as Lady Engsly detached her from Sir Robert and ushered her toward the door.

  “It seems you have quite a bit to consider, Miss Ward. I suspect a nice long lie-down will put everything into perspective. Come along, Freddie.”

  Adelaide tossed a dazed look over her shoulder as she was bustled out of the room. “I thought we were to settle things.”

  “We have,” Lady Engsly assured her with a quick pat of the arm. “You received an offer of marriage. Two in fact. We’ll leave the gentlemen to bicker over the details.”

  “Shouldn’t she have some say in those details?” Lady Winnefred asked with a hint of indignation.

  Adelaide nodded in enthusiastic agreement. If anyone was to be bickering, it ought to be her.

  Lady Engsly stopped at the bottom of a back stairwell and turned to address Adelaide with the sort of gentle patience that put her to mind of a governess. “You have the only say that truly matters, Miss Ward. And you’ll be pressured from both sides to make that say known as soon as possible. Do you want to face that pressure now, or do you want a bit of time to think the matter through?”

  “Time,” Adelaide replied without hesitation and wondered that she hadn’t seen the wisdom in leaving for herself.

  “Excellent. Freddie and I will spread the word that offers have been made. It won’t silence the gossip, I’m afraid, but it will certainly temper the censure.”

  She wouldn’t have seen the wisdom in that either. Her mind was so muddled, her emotions so turbulent, it was a miracle she was able to put two words together.

  Adelaide looked at the two women before her and wondered what she would have done without their assistance today. Gone to her room without a much-needed proposal or accepted a proposal without much-needed consideration. Either might well have proved disastrous.

  “Lady Engsly—”

  “Lilly, dear. And Winnefred,” she added with a quick look at her sister-in-law for agreement. “I should think we’ve come far enough in our friendship for given names.”

  Adelaide digested that silently for a moment. She wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure she could speak around the lump that formed in her throat. It had been so long since someone had offered to help, longer still since she’d had an offer of friendship. She couldn’t find the words to express what it meant to receive both.

  “I’m grateful,” she managed at length. And because she couldn’t think of a more adequate sentiment, she repeated it. “I’m so grateful.”

  The abrupt departure of the ladies from the study left Connor in what most men might consider an unenviable position—facing the suitor and two champions of a compromised lady. Connor didn’t mind the silent and tense atmosphere in the least. In fact, he took dark pleasure in ignoring the brothers and staring at Sir Robert until the man looked away, then shifted his feet, then squirmed, then caved.

  “I will not remain in the same room with this libertine a moment longer!” Sir Robert announced and bolted for the door.

  The entire process took less than thirty seconds. Which—to give credit where credit was due—was a solid twenty seconds longer than Connor had anticipated. Sir Robert had held his ground in the garden longer than expected as well. Apparently, the baron had grown some sort of backbone over the years. Connor estimated his half brother to now be in possession of two, possibly three, full vertebrae.

  Connor straightened from the bookshelf and gave a passing nod at Lord Engsly and Lord Gideon as he headed for the door. He felt under no particular obligation to speak with the men. He’d not invited them into the affair.

  “A word, Mr. Brice.”

  Connor turned at the sound of Engsly’s order and considered each man coolly and carefully.

  He knew little of Lord Engsly, and he’d met Lord Gideon only once before—through the bars of a prison cell. Their wives, on the other hand, had been regular visitors to the prison. Before they’d come to their fortunes by way of their husbands, they’d scratched out a meager existence by, amongst other things, mending the clothes of officers and well-to-do prisoners.

  But, despite their brief acquaintance, Connor was inclined to like Engsly and Lord Gideon. They had reputations for being levelheaded and fair-minded men. They were also known as men who were not above a bit of brawling when the occasion called for it. In that regard, he wasn’t concerned about the marquess or his brother. He was, however, a little concerned about the marquess and his brother. Lord Engsly had speed. Lord Gideon had a sturdy cane and the strength to break it over a man’s head. Connor had honed his fighting skills on the streets of Boston and thought he might be able to take the pair of them, but not without cost.

  “Have your word, then.”

  “Where are you staying?” Engsly asked.

  Lord Gideon answered for him. “He and his men are at the widow Dunbar’s cottage.”

  “Spying on me, were you?” Connor inquired with a raised brow.

  Lord Gideon’s lips curved. “I had the sense to bribe the clever half.”

  Irritation bit at him. “You stand with Sir Robert?”

  “I stand with my family,” Lord Gideon corrected.

  “Ah.” That made more sense. “Thomas.”

  Thomas Brown. The boy who’d been tossed in the cell next to his. No more than twelve, and naïve with it. Connor had looked out for the lad until his release. Lord Gideon and Freddie had taken over after that.

  “Worried I might lure him back into iniquity?” Connor asked with a smirk.

  “Oddly enough, I was concerned you couldn’t be trusted with an innocent.”

  “That is peculiar.”

  Lord Engsly took a step forward. “Did you force your attentions on Miss Ward?”

  “I did not.”

  “Did you mislead her into thinking you were a member of this house party?”

  “I never lied to her.” About that, specifically.

  “That was not the question.”

  Connor shrugged. “The ladies do like a bit of mystery.”

  “Was it your intention to compromise Miss Ward?”

  “No.” A half-truth. It hadn’t been his intention when he’d begun, but it had certainly been his intention when he’d hauled Adelaide onto the path.

  “And is it your purpose now to make her your wife?”

  “Yes.”

  “To spite your brother.”

  “My reasons are immaterial.”

  “Miss Ward is apt to disagree.”

  Miss Ward was apt to want his head on a platter. But it couldn’t be helped. “Miss Ward is free to marry Sir Robert if she chooses.”

  Connor was confident she wouldn’t choose Sir Rob
ert. But it would be helpful if her champions, and their wives, were not openly opposed to a match with himself. Which is why, despite his distaste for the conversation, he tolerated another round of questions from Lord Engsly.

  Did he have a home and the means to support a wife and family? Did he have children of his own or a mistress tucked away somewhere? What, exactly, had begun the feud between the two brothers? Connor answered each in turn, feeling much as he had on the day he’d gone before the magistrate on charges of highway robbery. Yes, yes, no, no, and . . .

  “None of your bleeding business. Now, if there’s nothing else?” He didn’t bother to wait for a reply before heading for the door. Their support would be advantageous, but it wasn’t necessary. He was not obliged to go groveling for it.

  “One more thing,” Lord Gideon said softly. He’d been mostly silent during the questioning. Connor suspected he’d already been aware of more than half the answers. “A bit of advice. You would be wise to remember that my wife is fond of Miss Ward.”

  And Lord Gideon was madly in love with his wife. If she asked him to squash Connor like a bug, he’d not think twice before obliging her.

  “Then Freddie and I have something in common,” Connor replied. He didn’t take offense at the implied threat, but he emphasized the use of Freddie, just a little, just enough to make the muscle in Lord Gideon’s jaw pop.

  It didn’t quite make up for the inconvenience and insult of a half hour’s interrogation, but it was gratifying nonetheless.

  Chapter 7

  Lilly and Winnefred left Adelaide at her door so that she might privately inform her sister what had occurred in the garden and study. Adelaide could only assume that the ladies expected Isobel’s reaction to be most unpleasant. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Isobel’s eyes grew round as saucers. Which, evidently, was not round enough to contain all her unholy glee. It spilled out into a voice bubbling over with mirth.

  “A duel?”

  “It is not amusing.”

  “It certainly is,” Isobel countered and burst into fits of laughter. “I cannot believe it,” she choked out. “My sister . . . My own eternally decorous sister . . . The subject of a duel.” She let out a shaky breath and wiped tears from her eyes. “Oh, stop looking at me like that. Lord Engsly will put an end to it.”

  “He has already put an end to it,” Adelaide muttered.

  “There you are,” she said, with a sweep of her hand. “You’re not truly distressed by this, are you? It’s not an ideal development, I grant. But if there is nothing you can do to change the situation, you might as well appreciate it. And you must admit . . . two men willing to die for you.” She gave a lusty sigh. “That is flattering.”

  Perhaps it would have been, if Sir Robert hadn’t been quite so eager to rethink the sacrifice. And if the rest of the morning hadn’t been so mortifying.

  “Well, who is this Mr. Brice?” Isobel demanded. “Why have you not told me of him before now?”

  “I only just met the man.” Too late, she realized the folly of that statement.

  “Only just . . . And you were kissing him in the garden?”

  Adelaide waited patiently for the next round of Isobel’s laughter to subside. She wasn’t feeling especially patient at the moment, but she was feeling grateful. Not every young lady would accept such dreadful news about her older sister with good humor.

  “If you are finished?” she asked after a time.

  Isobel lifted a finger and laughed a minute more. Finally, she gave a great sigh and nodded. “Oh, goodness . . . Has this Mr. Brice offered for you, then?”

  “Yes, they both have.”

  “Two proposals, a compromise, and a duel. My, but you’ve been busy this morning.” Isobel wiped her eyes again, then pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I think you should accept Mr. Brice.”

  “You don’t know the man.”

  “Neither do you, by the sound of it,” Isobel reminded with a smirk. “But we know Sir Robert, and—”

  “Lady Engsly says I should take some time to think the matter through.” Adelaide wasn’t interested in hearing, yet again, her sister’s opinion of Sir Robert.

  “I like Lady Engsly,” Isobel said, bobbing her head in agreement. “She’s a sensible sort.”

  As Isobel’s idea of sensible was to check for witnesses before engaging in all manner of inadvisable behavior, Adelaide could only stare at her sister in disbelief.

  “I can appreciate a sensible mind,” Isobel said in a defensive tone. “I like you, don’t I? It’s stodginess I can’t abide.”

  Adelaide was saved from having to respond by a soft knock on the door. Lilly and Winnefred, she guessed. They had promised to return after they’d spoken to the guests.

  “Are we interrupting?” Lilly asked when Adelaide opened the door.

  She stepped back and waved them inside. “No, please come in.”

  Winnefred patted her arm as she passed, just as Lilly had earlier, only a bit more awkwardly and with more force than was strictly comfortable. Adelaide assumed Winnefred was either unaccustomed to delivering friendly overtures of a physical nature or unaware of her own strength.

  Lilly paused inside the doorway. “We want you to know that our carriages are at your disposal.”

  Adelaide’s heart sank. “Mrs. Cress has kicked me out.”

  “Good heavens no.” Lilly led her to the foot of the bed where she settled them both. “Mrs. Cress is more apt to lock you in your chambers for the next fortnight than send you off. You are now her most interesting guest. She likes to gossip.”

  “She loves to gossip,” Winnefred corrected. “She’s not cruel, mind you. Merely dedicated.”

  Lilly gave Adelaide a sympathetic smile. “Others will not be so kind. To be frank, Adelaide, the proposals have kept you from outright ruin, but I fear things will become uncomfortable for you nonetheless.”

  Adelaide closed her eyes on a sigh. Lilly was right. Talk amongst the guests was sure to be open, rampant, and ugly. Worse, the questions and criticisms would spill over onto Isobel.

  Do you suppose her sister is the same?

  I hear she is most liberal in her opinions.

  With her favors as well, no doubt.

  Adelaide wasn’t sure what was more galling, that they were now the center of such speculation, or that they had no choice but to flee from the insults.

  “I should marry Sir Robert and be done with it.”

  Lilly shared a look with Winnefred. “I must be honest with you, Miss Ward. I do not particularly care for Sir Robert.”

  “We do not care for Sir Robert,” Winnefred amended.

  “He strikes me as being rather duplicitous in nature,” Lilly explained.

  “You see?” Isobel chimed. “Sensible.”

  “Why have you not said so until now?” Adelaide asked. Granted, she’d met the ladies only a few months ago, but they’d grown sufficiently familiar with each other that distrust of her suitor might have been mentioned.

  “I assumed you had similar reservations,” Lilly explained. “But that circumstances were such that you’d no choice but to press ahead. Was I wrong?”

  “No,” she admitted softly. There had been reservations. She’d been late in acknowledging them, but they had been there.

  Winnefred nodded. “Now, however, you have an alternative solution. You have Connor.”

  “I don’t know that I like Mr. Brice any better.”

  “You looked to have liked him well enough in the garden,” Winnefred commented.

  “Freddie,” Lady Engsly chastised.

  Adelaide gave a dismissive shake of her head. “It’s only the truth. I did like him. Until he went out of his way to see we were discovered.”

  “Surely not,” Lilly protested.

  “Ask him yourself, if you like.”

  Lilly studied her a moment before speaking. “I can see that won’t be necessary. Good heavens, did he say why?”

  “Well, that’s obvious
,” Isobel said. “He must be in love with her.”

  “We met last night.”

  “Last night?” This from both ladies.

  Oh, dear.

  “Passing in the hall,” she explained lamely, and she tensed, waiting for Isobel to mention the sitting room, or the garden, or the whiskey.

  Winnefred spoke first. “He’s been aware of you for a lot longer than that. He used to look for you to bring your nephew to the prison.”

  “Prison,” Adelaide repeated. It was a cell window Connor had been watching her through. She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

  “What was he imprisoned for?” Isobel asked.

  “Highway robbery,” Winnefred informed her.

  Adelaide dropped her hands. “Good God.”

  “There was never any doubt of his innocence,” Lilly assured her. “Connor might look fit for the job, but his men, I assure you, do not.”

  “He has men?”

  Winnefred nodded. “Gregory, who I vow is one hundred, if he’s a day. And Michael, who likely hasn’t seated a horse in the last decade.”

  “Who brought the charges against them?” Isobel inquired.

  “Sir Robert,” Winnefred answered with obvious disgust. “Who happens to be old friends with the magistrate.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Adelaide asked.

  Lilly looked uncomfortable with the question. “Well . . . Freddie and I had . . . on occasion . . . in the past . . . reason to visit the prison. We . . . That is . . .”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake, Lilly,” Winnefred cut in impatiently. “She’ll not judge. Lilly and I did a bit of sewing for coin. Connor was one of the prisoners who could afford to pay for mending. I’d not have paid particular attention to him, except that he shared the cell with Michael and Gregory—the most delightful gentlemen—and Thomas was in the next cell over. Connor took him under his wing.”

  “Thomas Brown? Your ward?” Adelaide shook her head. The boy was much too young to have been locked away with grown men.

  Winnefred nodded. “He came to be with us after his release. But Connor and his men looked after him in prison. My husband took it upon himself to look into their affairs.”