by Lydia Dare
“Bloody hell, we’re in for it now,” Gray grumbled.
Wes looked up from the wreckage of his conveyance to see the Eynsford coach headed toward them on the road. “Oh God, it’s Cait!” His stomach plummeted to wherever his heart had gone.
“I thought she’d be gone for hours,” his brother complained.
Even though Wes’ ears had yet to be blistered by his sister-in-law, they began ringing in advance. “Blast it. How does she always seem to know when something’s happened?”
“I wish I knew.” Gray shook his head. “She’ll hang us both out the window by our ankles for this.” Then his brother frowned. “I don’t suppose you could hurry up? We could race her back to The Park, wash off your back, and pretend none of this ever happened.”
That was about as likely as Lady Madeline kissing Weston in front of the entire world. To hell with the world, Wes would take her kissing him in private or even looking at him with a smile instead of the slightly horrified expression she usually donned when she caught sight of him. And blast Gray for even putting the chit’s name in his mind earlier. He hadn’t thought about her for years, maybe months… all right, days. But he hadn’t thought about her today, not until his brother had thrown the lady’s name out for no good reason.
“Why don’t we just stay here and let her pass? We’ll wave and act like nothing is wrong. Then we’ll head off to the stream and I can wash up there. By the time we return, she won’t have a clue as to what transpired.”
Gray nodded and motioned for the milkmaid to bring both children to them. He thrust Lia into Wes’ arms and took Lucien up in his own. “Just to be safe. She won’t kill us if we’re each holding one of these little urchins. Maybe.”
As though Lia knew she’d been insulted, she glared up at Gray.
If pain hadn’t been coursing through Wes, he would have doubled over with laughter just from the look her face. She appeared mortally wounded to be called an urchin. But as it was, he needed all of his strength to stand up tall and keep his niece in his arms.
The Eynsford coach pulled up beside them, and the crested door flew open with a crash. Caitrin bounded onto the road so fast that Wes thought the hounds of hell must have been at her heels. “Doona speak ta me,” she ordered as she took Lia from Wes’ arms. “Doona even look at me,” she commanded as she reached for Lucien. “Doona for one moment,” she began, pointing first at Gray and then at Wes, “think I willna tell Dashiel about this. How dare ye put my children in harm’s way?”
“But, Cait,” Gray began, “we were only taking them for a ride.”
Her icy eyes speared Gray, and Wes almost felt sorry for his brother. “Doona lie ta me, Grayson Francis Hadley! Ye were doin’ more than just ridin’. Ye should ken better than ta even try ta tell me an untruth.”
Cait ushered Lucien into her coach and climbed in beside him with Lia in her arms. Then the little girl said quietly, “Uh, oh,” as she pointed at her uncles through the open door.
“I’m afraid ye’re right, lass.” Cait sighed heavily and brushed a lock of hair from her daughter’s face. “They are in more trouble than they can even imagine. And I willna bother ta try ta save them this time.” Then she glanced out the open doorway and called to them. “Dash will be home this evenin’ when he and Archer return from London. I’m certain he’ll expect ta see ye both when he finds out what ye’ve done.” She shot them both a pointed glance. “Doona force him ta go out and collect ya.”
Yes, yes, he’d be home because of the break from the trial as the Queen’s defense team worked on their strategy. So Wes had survived the phaeton accident only to have Dash snap his neck with his hands later this evening. Bloody wonderful.
“Cait,” Gray began with the same placating tone he’d used on the nursemaid.
“Doona ‘Cait’ me, and,” she turned her icy gaze on Wes, “doona come home until ye’re cleaned up. I willna have ye trackin’ blood inta my house.” Then she leaned forward and pulled the coach door closed with such force that the carriage rocked a bit.
Three
“I cannot believe the idiocy!” Dashiel Thorpe, the Marquess of Eynsford, roared and pounded his fist on his desk for good measure. His inkwell jumped with the force of the blow, and for a moment Wes thought it might crack in two.
Gray winced in his seat, while their brother Archer Hadley, Viscount Radbourne, lounged against the window casing, wearing an expression of utter boredom. Of course Archer was bored. For once, he wasn’t getting chastised along with the twins.
Wes slid forward in his seat, hoping to appease his half brother and pack alpha. “It wasn’t that bad, Dash. It was just a little race.”
“A little race that left your conveyance nothing more than kindling. You have crossed the line with this antic. My children could have been harmed,” Dash growled.
“But they weren’t,” Wes said. “And we would never let anything happen to either of them. Surely you know that.”
“If you’re not busting up phaetons, then you’re lighting my stables ablaze—”
“That was an accident.” Archer pushed away from the window and glared at Wes and Gray as though it was their fault the stable fire had been brought up again.
“You’re dangerous and reckless.” Dash looked at each Hadley brother in turn. “And I have had all of it that I intend to take.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Gray asked. “Are you resigning as our brother?”
Dash narrowed his eye on Wes’ twin. “Is there anything between your ears, aside from air?”
“Well, what does it mean?” Wes frowned at the marquess.
Dash shook his head. “I need time to think of the appropriate penance, but rest assured I’ll think of something. In the meantime, all of you need to ready yourselves for a sojourn to Castle Hythe.”
“Castle Hythe?” Archer grumbled. “I’ve been traveling all day.”
“Her Grace has asked us to attend this little affair, and it will appease Caitrin to some degree if you all attend. So you’re all going, even you, Archer.”
“But,” Archer tried. He wasn’t even guilty of the most recent charges and he was still going to be punished. Cait must have been even angrier than Wes had thought.
Dash growled low in his throat, and the hair on Wes’ arms stood up. “Fine,” Wes muttered at the same time as Gray and Archer murmured, “All right,” and “Yes, Dash.” One did not put up his fists with the alpha. Not with a warning such as that growl. Certainly Dash slapped them on the wrist often, but none of them wanted to be shaken by the scruff of his neck. And their oldest brother wasn’t above doing so.
“I expect you all will look respectable when next I see you,” Dash said pointedly. Then he glanced at his watch fob. “That will be in exactly two hours. Do not be late.” He stalked from the room like some great beast that had graced them all with a reprieve rather than eating them in one bite. Or three, as the case might be.
As soon as Dash was out of the room, Archer smacked Wes in the back of the head with the flat of his palm.
“Ow!” Wes cried as he rubbed at the abused area.
“What is wrong with you?” Archer hissed. “You had to know that he’d get his fur ruffled if you put his children in danger. That was the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard of.”
Archer crossed over to Gray and lifted his foot to kick him in the shin. But Gray was a little faster than Wes had been. Of course, Gray hadn’t been rolled over in a phaeton that day either. So, he was in slightly better form.
Gray yelped and scooted out of Archer’s reach. “Because of you,” Archer complained, “I have to go to this inane event at Castle Hythe.”
Wes snorted. “Oh, did you have something more pressing to attend to? Like spending your newly won fortune?” By now, everyone knew Archer had recently come into some unexpected funds in a card game. No one knew exactly how much. But the rumors were that he’d won more than a fortune from a fellow who’d been so certain of his cards that he’d grown car
eless. Archer was being curiously circumspect about the whole situation. “Had you planned to buy a whore? Your temperament could be measurably better if you did.”
“I agree,” Gray chimed in. “You should pay your respects to Dash and Cait and go take care of your temperament problem, Arch. You’ll be in much finer form afterward. Perhaps we might even be able to stand your presence.”
Wes bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. When Archer glared at him, he threw up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say a thing.”
“The two of you are menaces.”
“The same could be said about you,” Gray remarked.
“Blast you both,” Archer growled. “The moonful is quickly approaching. I’ve been held hostage in the bloody House of Lords forever, and now we’re going to be stuck here in godforsaken Kent for the entire week preceding it, since Dash will refuse to let either of you out of his sight.”
He cursed beneath his breath. Then he shot them a glare. “The children? How the devil could you race with the children in your laps?” He was still shaking his head and mumbling as he strode from the room. Wes heard him grumble something about damn idiot brothers who ruined his week.
Gray whistled softly, a harbinger of doom if Wes had ever heard one. “Now Dash and Archer are irritated at us. Way to go, baby brother.”
“I vaguely remember not being alone in that race,” Wes warned.
“Thanks for reminding me. You owe me fifty quid, by the way.”
“I’m good for it,” Wes muttered. But he wasn’t. He certainly wouldn’t admit to only having a few farthings to rub together at the moment. And now he didn’t even have a shiny new phaeton to gaze at.
“Sure you are,” Gray said as he got to his feet.
Wes sighed. “We probably need to go and make ourselves presentable so we don’t embarrass Cait. She’ll be angry enough as it is. I think she’ll kill us both if either of us looks at her sideways.”
“Something tells me she might do it anyway,” Gray agreed.
Wes tried to sound completely unconcerned when he asked his next question, as though it didn’t matter at all. “Do you think Lady Madeline will be at Castle Hythe tonight?”
Gray’s dark eyes twinkled. “I feel certain she will. She’s there for the great husband hunt, after all.”
Wes’ gut clenched. “The what?”
His brother shrugged. “That’s what Archer’s calling it anyway. He overheard His Grace and Dash discussing it in Town. The castle will be overflowing with scheming peers Hythe has brought back with him from London while they’re all on break. He figures the castle is the perfect place to display the tremendous dowry attached to his daughter.”
“How much?” Wes had never dreamt of asking such a question before. After all, Lady Madeline was well out of his reach.
“Does it matter?” Gray countered. “She’s primed for greatness. For a marriage to a cold husband who will spread her legs, get her with child, and then go off to his mistress. But he’ll be of her same social status. So that makes all the difference.”
Was that bitterness in Gray’s tone? It certainly sounded like it. The very thought of Lady Madeline being forced into a cold and loveless marriage because it was her duty to marry well made Wes’ head hurt. And he saw red around the edges of his vision at the very thought of anyone spreading her legs.
“I assume then that you’ll be taking yourself out of the running for her hand,” Wes said with a chuckle.
“I’d never compete with you for the chit’s heart,” Gray tossed out. “Not that either of us would ever have a shot at the duke’s daughter.” Then he strode from the room.
As he walked out, Dash walked back in, then rifled through his desk, looking perturbed when he couldn’t find whatever he was searching for.
“Dash?” Wes tried to break him from his reverie.
“What?” his oldest brother barked without even looking in his direction.
“Loan me fifty quid?” Wes asked. The attention Dash did pay him made Wes turn tail and move toward the door. “Never mind,” he muttered as he left the room as quickly as he could.
***
“You’ll never believe what Robert just told me.” Sophie burst into Maddie’s room without even the preamble of knocking.
Maddie looked up from the note she was posting to a dear friend and couldn’t help grinning at Sophie. “Oh? Did he profess his undying love yet again?”
Sophie sighed as she dropped onto the edge of Maddie’s four-poster. “He did, but—”
Maddie laid her quill across her desk. “Another proposal?” How many times had her brother asked Sophie to marry him? If Robert wasn’t such a derelict, she would love the idea of having Sophie join the family as her sister.
“Yes, but not an honorable proposal. However—”
“I beg your pardon?” Maddie rose from her spot. She must have misheard her friend. Certainly her brother did not suggest Sophie become his mistress. “Did you say not of the honorable variety?”
Sophie scoffed and shook her head. “I have no value anymore, not to a man of means. I’m fully aware of how my circumstances have changed. I’m just surprised that it’s being presented to me by the same men who thought me respectable a mere few months ago.” She sighed heavily. “It certainly isn’t the first such offer I’ve received since I returned to England. I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
It would be the last time Robert Hayburn would propose anything of the sort. The blasted reprobate. “What did you say to him?” Maddie dropped onto the bed beside her friend.
A smile lit Sophie’s face. “That I was so honored by his devotion, but that I had my sights set on Nathaniel. That a girl needed to look out for herself, and why would I choose to be the mistress of a second son when I could be the respectable wife of the heir instead?”
Maddie couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “Heavens! Robert must have turned purple. What did he say to that?”
Sophie shrugged. “That Nathaniel’s offer wouldn’t be for marriage either, and I’d be better off with a fellow who actually cared for me.”
“Oh, so caring, indeed!” Maddie forced herself to take a deep breath. If she didn’t, she’d have to go search out her brothers and give them both a piece of her mind. How dare they suggest such thing to her friend? “A mistress! How very noble of my brother.”
“There are only a few ways for a woman of our gentle breeding to fend for herself when she’s all alone.”
Maddie’s mouth fell open. “You aren’t considering…” She couldn’t even finish the terrible thought.
“Of course not!” Sophie frowned. “But for some reason it’s the first option that pops into the male mind. But, no, I’ll manage some other way. I’ll find employment as a governess. A lady’s companion. Something. If all else fails, I could throw myself at Cousin Freddie’s feet and beg for mercy.”
The new Earl of Postwick was not terribly generous, and Sophie might very well receive the same sort of despicable offer from her own cousin. “You can stay with me forever,” Maddie vowed and squeezed Sophie’s hands for good measure. “And if Robert even thinks of suggesting such a thing again—”
Sophie shook her head. “Robert is of no consequence, Maddie. Though I suppose I probably should have accepted either his or Nathaniel’s honorable proposals a year or so ago, shouldn’t I? I certainly wouldn’t be in this predicament if I had.”
Maddie scoffed. “You could never love either of my brothers.” Honestly, who could? It was all Maddie could do to drum up any charitable feelings for them at times. “You wouldn’t want that.”
“No, but holding out for a love match is not a luxury I have anymore.”
And even though Maddie knew her friend spoke the truth, her heart hurt a bit at hearing the words aloud. “Don’t decide anything rash until we speak to Lady Eynsford. With her influence on Radbourne, you might just be able to reclaim your fortune and then tell every reprobate in England to go stick his spoon
in the wall.”
Sophie smirked. “Well, that’s what I really came to tell you. Robert said Lord Eynsford and Lord Radbourne will be here this evening with their respective families.”
Maddie’s mouth fell open. “Grandmamma never invites the Hadleys to anything.”
“I don’t know who did the inviting, but I plan to make Lord Radbourne’s scurrilous acquaintance this evening.”
What an awful idea. “No.” Maddie shook her head. “Trust me, Soph, talking to Lady Eynsford is the way to go.”
“You talk to Lady Eynsford then. I have a few things I’d like to say to Lord Radbourne.”
A scratch sounded at Maddie’s door before she could reply. “Come,” she muttered, though she tightened her grasp on Sophie’s hands. They weren’t finished with this conversation.
Jane, Maddie’s lady’s maid, pushed open the door and bobbed her head. “Her Grace is requesting your presence in the drawing room, my lady.”
“You mean she’s demanding it,” Sophie muttered under her breath.
Jane’s eyes grew wide, but she nodded. “Indeed, Lady Sophia.”
“Come with me,” Maddie suggested. After all, they could finish their discussion on the way to the drawing room.
But Sophie shook her head. “Go on without me. I’m not quite ready for dinner.” Then her friend slid from the bed and brushed past Jane into the corridor.
Maddie rose from her spot and took a cursory glance at her reflection in the mirror. She supposed she was as ready for dinner and all of her father’s guests as she was ever going to be. Then she started for the corridor and smiled at Jane as she passed her. “Wish me luck.”
“I always do.”
Maddie made her way from the family’s quarters through the gallery and down a set of circular stone steps to the main floor. Raucous male laughter filled the castle, which only made her scowl. What a perfectly dreadful summer this was turning out to be. First, Sophie’s insolvency and now the duke’s push to see Maddie select some dim-witted fop with whom she would spend the rest of her days.