The Misadventures of Lady Ophelia (The Undaunted Debutantes Book 3)

by Christina McKnight

  My dearest Molly ~

  Me love for ye has no bounds—it is not restrained by land, sea, time, or distance. Yet, I find meself here, in Sheerness, and ye in London with Ramsey. Neither of us could’a imagined what the king had planned for me; not the journeys ta Prussia nor the title and land. It was not what we planned, and never what I wanted. But ye believed in a better future for us. London is not me home. I am ever pulled to the sea, but ye draw on me is far stronger than the sea. Me home is where ye are. If’n I destroy all the records of me service ta the king, we can return to Sheerness, live the life we always dreamed’a. Ye with yer family close and me close ta the two things I love: ye and the sea. I am a coward, my dearest Molly. Here I be, where I believe I—we—belong—and I cannot do it. The sea is a dangerous place. Ye be worthy of a good husband, not a man too long at sea, or worse, lost ta the murky depths of the unforgiving waters. Ramsey deserves better—a title without scandal and gossip of times long past attached. Not a scoundrel of a pa. And so, I be leave’n the pages here along with me past and me need for the water—and return ta London the gent me king made me…but I promise ye, we shall return. One day…

  With all me heart, Porter, Lord Coventry

  Colin reached out and took Ophelia’s hand in his as he read the letter several more times before handing it to her. He assumed it had been written not long after his father finished his studies and was taking his place in society as the son of the Earl of Coventry. The letter said so much, yet so little all at the same time.

  Porter “Fair Wind” Parnell had been an ally and trusted courier for King George II. That much was certain, but the box did not contain the missing pages. The proof.

  His grandpapa had sacrificed his own happiness for that of his son, Ramsey.

  He’d remained in London, played the lord, all to secure a better future for Ramsey, and in turn, Colin when he inherited the Earldom. To expose his position as the king’s loyal servant, Fair Wind would have been forced to also uncover his jaded past as a smuggler.

  Had Molly known all this?

  Fair Wind must have spoken of it during the years after his final trip to Sheerness before his passing.

  Both Colin’s father and Molly had been correct. However, the truth lay far deeper than the surface. Yes, Fair Wind had worked for the king, but he’d been a smuggler, a seaman at heart. He’d given up his life’s blood for the two people he loved above all else—including the sea.

  The letter was significant proof of Porter’s past, yet it had been written during the critical time when Ramsey and his father were feuding. Their family’s past hadn’t been important until Ramsey discovered other men of the ton had long lines of lineage, spanning hundreds of years and a dozen titled ancestors before them.

  Ramsey was the grandson of a wood carver and an ale house proprietor from a small fishing town—no more than a village during those times. Even his mother, Molly, had served as a wench in her family’s tavern while Porter earned his coin by unsavory dealings at sea.

  Society was not particularly forgiving of such dubious past indiscretions.

  His grandpapa knew that, and was still willing to all but erase any word to the contrary.

  “This is beautiful,” Ophelia sighed. “So different from his earlier writings but still very much his words.”

  Leave it to Ophelia to notice the eloquent nature of the letter, beyond the poignant message given. His grandpapa hadn’t wanted anyone to find proof of his past. Without solid evidence, no one could refute Ramsey’s right to the Earldom, despite it being awarded by the king. For all intents and purposes, the Parnell family were country folk blessed by a king who needed no explanation for his royal decrees. It had been an intelligent move on his grandpapa’s part, and one not appreciated by Colin’s father.

  “I think we are done here in Sheerness.” He turned a weak smile on Ophelia.

  “But we have not found the pages.” She folded the letter and returned it to its envelope. “They must be here somewhere.”

  He glanced at the box and back to Ophelia, his excitement over finding the box diminishing. “The lock was broken, and the latch opened. Someone found the pages before us, but I believe the letter will confirm everything for Molly—and my father will have little choice but to end their feud.”

  She shrugged and toyed with the pendant he’d placed around her neck.

  “We will collect our carriage from the inn and return to London by nightfall.” His words left him with more force than intended, but he offered no apologies. They’d done as Molly asked and would return home. They should both be satisfied with their discoveries and take a measure of pride in the knowledge they’d be responsible for bringing Molly peace. “I will meet you downstairs.”

  He glanced at her in time to see her chin lift before she turned and rushed from the room. Her walking boots barely made a sound as she descended the stairs, leaving him alone in the place Molly and Fair Wind had once called home.

  In no way did Colin feel satisfied with the information they’d found, nor pride in the discovery they’d return to Molly.

  Chapter 21

  “I am coming with you,” Ophelia said with a stomp of her foot, ignoring the audience watching them. “I have had the last several hours to ponder everything, and I have made the decision to be at your side when you speak with Molly.”

  The evening breeze whipped her hood from her head as she stared Colin straight in the eyes, his carriage horses stamping their hooves with impatience. She’d ridden in Colin’s carriage, with Luci and Edith, all the way back to London. The men taking up residence in Montrose’s conveyance. Propriety had been maintained, and Ophelia had been able to share the entire story with her friends.

  Ophelia suspected her determined demand had much to do with the way Colin had cast aside her words in the room above the blacksmith’s shop. She’d thought there was more to find in Sheerness, and he’d dismissed her out of turn, treated her as if she had no say in anything pertaining to their journey.

  “My father clearly has a guest,” he said, gesturing to the carriage parked farther down the drive. “It is not the best time to discuss this.”

  Bloody bollocks, she thought, commandeering Edith’s most prized expletive.

  She narrowed her stare on him, and his nostrils flared ever so slightly with his irritation at her continued insistence. Why had she thought Colin lacked the arrogance and domineering nature so present in Torrington and Montrose? He could be bloody stubborn when the need presented itself. However, Ophelia found herself in possession of a doggedly persistent character, as well.

  The Coventry butler held Colin’s townhouse door wide, awaiting his entrance, and her friends—with Montrose and Torrington in tow—had all gathered in Montrose’s carriage, waiting to deliver Ophelia home.

  However, she was not leaving.

  Not until she and Colin had spoken with Molly and passed on the letter from Fair Wind.

  Besides, Ophelia needed to return the older woman’s pendant.

  It was the least she was owed for agreeing to throw caution—and her reputation—to the wind to embark on the adventure with Colin.

  “I said I would call on you in the morning and inform you of how Molly took the news, as well as my father’s reaction.” His Hessian-clad feet were placed wide apart, his stance unyielding. His voice firm and filled with conviction.

  But the man did not know Ophelia well at all if he thought her daunted by his seemingly unwavering determination to see her removed from the final portion of their duty. She would see everything through to completion.

  “While that is very kind of you, my lord,” she seethed, her hands settling on her hips as she leaned in close, lowering her voice. “I insist on being with you when you speak with Molly.”

  He sighed, and the tension drained from his shoulders.

  With a satisfied smile, Ophelia turned to her waiting friends and shouted, “I will be out shortly.”

  Luci and Edith waved from the carr
iage before sitting back in their seats to wait.

  “Shall we, my lord?” Ophelia’s brow rose in question as she attempted to mask her grin with a serene smile. There was little need to anger him further. She’d gotten her way, and there was no need to rub the victory in his face. Nor do anything that would have him changing his mind before they were securely in the house. “I do look forward to seeing Molly’s reaction when she sees the letter.”

  He reluctantly held out his arm, and she placed her gloved hand into the crook of his elbow. Holding her chin high, they entered the Coventry townhouse.

  “I have warned you, Lady Ophelia,” he leaned close and whispered in her ear. “My father can be a particularly ill-tempered man if he’s interrupted while entertaining.”

  “As cross as you are now, Lord Hawke?” she asked with a smirk.

  “Cross? Heavens, no,” he said with a chuckle. “I believe furious better describes his nature.”

  Ophelia swallowed past the lump that had settled in her throat, blocking her airway. She refused to back down or cower. They’d been so close during their time in Sheerness, but it had all changed swiftly after finding Fair Wind’s letter—no, correction, after Colin had read the letter, and she’d insisted on searching the town for more information.

  If she could take it back, she would. Anything to banish the shadow that had settled on Colin. It was a cloud of unidentifiable darkness. Sorrow? Anguish? Confusion? Disappointment?

  Perhaps a mix of all four.

  Ophelia’s own confusion had taken over during the long ride back to London. She’d meant to support him, be by his side the entire way, but unwittingly, she’d pushed him away. When he’d requested to ride with Montrose and Torrington, Ophelia had been hurt and conflicted. Certainly, she’d wanted some time with her dear friends—to explain everything—but more than anything, she’d longed for a few private moments to speak with Colin. Discuss what they’d found and make some attempt to sort through everything before they arrived back in London.

  But she’d been denied that.

  “Lord Hawke,” the Coventry butler greeted him with a nod. “Lady Ophelia.”

  He’d remembered her name from her single visit to the Coventry townhouse. Ophelia ignored the servant’s startled expression as he caught sight of Molly’s pendant around her neck.

  “Can you tell me where I might find Molly?” Colin asked.

  “The physician departed an hour ago,” the servant said, pointing down the hall. “She requested her meal be served in the salon.”

  “Does she have guests?”

  “No, my lord.” The butler cleared his throat and glanced down the hall to his father’s personal study.

  “Matheson?” Colin asked. “Is there something you are not telling me?”

  “Well, my lord…it seems… Your grandmother does not have a guest; however, your father has two guests, and I’ve been instructed to keep the dowager away from his study,” he said in a rush. “My lord, your father says I am to use force—if necessary. Force is always necessary with Lady Coventry.”

  The man worried his hands before him as if he were a debutante attending his first musicale and was fretting over hitting a wrong note. A bit of Ophelia’s ire dissipated at the man’s unease. She’d been in his position herself but had been on the receiving end of Molly’s cane at the time—though, in all honesty, the woman’s words wounded far deeper than her walking stick.

  “And who, exactly, is my father meeting with?”

  Matheson cast a quick look down another corridor before whispering, “Lord Abercorn and his sister, Lady Sissy.”

  Ophelia and Colin gasped at the same time.

  Ophelia rounded on Colin, pushing him slightly when she withdrew her hand from his elbow. “You know Abercorn? Why did you not say?”

  “Because I do not know Lord Abercorn,” he retorted, his eyes narrowing on her.

  “How convenient that a man you do not know is even now meeting with your father.” Ophelia crossed her arms, her anger returning swiftly. How many things had he failed to tell her?

  “How do you know Lady Sissy?” He took a step toward her, lowering his voice.

  “I do not know Lady Sissy beyond her kinship—and resemblance—to Lord Abercorn.”

  “Why are you perturbed by Abercorn’s presence here?”

  “I am far more than perturbed, Lord Hawke,” she seethed. “I am—“ Ophelia’s voice broke, and an uncontrollable shiver ran down her spine. “I am shocked such a heinous man would be allowed within your father’s home.”

  “Then we are much in agreement, although I cannot fathom why Lord Abercorn would put his sister at such risk after what happened.” Colin pinched the bridge of his nose before taking a calming breath. “Why do you despise Abercorn?”

  “Why would Lady Sissy be at risk?” she demanded.

  Ophelia pushed her shoulders back and watched him closely. He could keep his secrets about why he’d rushed back to London from Sheerness and why his demeanor and treatment of her had altered so drastically in a span of only a couple of minutes, but Abercorn was responsible for Tilda’s death. If the man were now involved in yet another aspect of Ophelia, Luci, and Edith’s lives, then she would bloody well find out how.

  “I will ask one more time, my lord.” Her pulse thrummed through her, resulting in a deafening echo in her head. “Why would Lady Sissy be at risk?” When he only stared at her, she continued, “Perhaps I should join them in the study and find out for myself.”

  “My lord, my lady,” Matheson squeaked. “Can we not continue this conversation in another, more private room, or better still, on the morrow?”

  “You are correct, sir,” Ophelia said with a smile, but from the servant’s sudden recoil, she could only assume she’d given him a sneer. “I find I wish to join Lord Coventry and his guests. I am acquainted with Abercorn, though we have had a rather tumultuous relationship. Shall I announce myself?”

  She only managed two steps toward the study when Colin grabbed her arm, halting her.

  “Lady Ophelia, you cannot—“

  “I most certainly can.” She had little clue what had come over her. The last time she’d knowingly been in Abercorn’s company, she’d nearly succumbed to a case of the vapors, but at present, she only felt outrage and venom. She couldn’t count spying on the man at Oliver’s Book Shoppe because Abercorn hadn’t suspected she watched him; therefore, she’d been in no danger. “Step aside, Colin.”

  He released her, and she started for the study once more, her footsteps sure as she worked through the coming confrontation in her mind.

  “Stop, Ophelia,” Colin pleaded at her treating back. “Molly and Lady Sissy were involved in a skirmish at a ball many, many, many years ago. It resulted in Molly’s final banishment to Tintinhull Court, and Lady Sissy’s—along with her brother, the duke’s—lifelong dislike for my father.”

  Her steps faltered and she stumbled, but Matheson caught her arm and righted her quickly. In her fury, she hadn’t noticed the servant hurrying to announce her.

  “Then why is Lady Sissy here now?” Ophelia asked without turning.

  “That lie’n, slimy, dicked in the nob woman be in this house?”

  “My lady!” Matheson yelped as all three turned to face Molly. “May I bring you tea in the salon?”

  “Lady Sissy hadn’t an ounce of steel in her then, and she sure as the morn’n sun don’t have it now.” Molly shuffled into the foyer, making a show of looking in every direction for the offending woman before spitting on the floor. “What Banbury stories is that vile bit of muslin spread’n now?” She narrowed her eyes on Ophelia before turning to Colin. “And when did the pair of ye arrive?”

  “Only a few moments ago,” Ophelia said. She was certain she appeared as frightened at the Coventry butler. “We were coming to find you.”

  “Did this beetle-browed knave think ta keep me unawares of an enemy in me own home?” Molly lifted her cane and pointed it at Matheson’s chest for em
phasis. “Ye be dismissed.”

  With a curt nod for Colin and a low bow for the women, Matheson disappeared toward the kitchens, likely in search of a drink—if he were smart.

  “Now—“ Molly leaned her cane against the wall and slipped her arm through Colin’s before hobbling over and doing the same with Ophelia. “What be the plan ta get this buck fitch and his doxy outta this house?”

  Ophelia and Colin shared an uneasy glance over Molly’s head.

  “I am right pleased ta have the pair of ye home,” the older woman said as they reached the door to Colin’s father’s study. “Not a soul I can trust but ye two.”

  Ophelia couldn’t barge into the room and confront Abercorn without knowing more about the feud between Molly and Lady Sissy. “What happened between you and Lady Sissy?”

  “That no-good trollop came at me, right after me Fair Wind went ta the hereafter, accuse’n me family of steal’n her land.” Molly glanced up at Ophelia, a crooked, satisfied grin on her face. “So, I shoved her, and she fell over a refreshment table and inta the crowded dance floor. Last time I heard her say anythin’ about me family.”

  “Do you know why she is here now?” Colin asked.

  “Ta claim ye Hawke Manor be me guess,” Molly shrugged as if Lady Sissy’s claim was unfounded and of no consequence. “But I plan ta send her on her way again, ye wait and see.”

  The door to the study pulled open, slamming upon its hinges into the wall behind it.

  Ophelia, Molly, and Colin stood in the path of a very angry, red-faced Lord Abercorn and Lady Sissy.

  “Sissy,” Molly hissed.

  “Molly,” Sissy jeered. “So, you have returned to London.”

  “Lord Abercorn, Lady Sissy,” Lord Coventry called from the study. “Please return so we can attempt a compromise.”

  “We do not compromise with the likes of Satan.” Molly released Colin and Ophelia, pushing her way into the room.

  Abercorn and Lady Sissy were given no opportunity to flee before Colin entered the study and turned to Ophelia.