Chase Family Collection: Limited Christmas Edition

by Lauren Royal

  Rand turned and leveled him with a stare. “Were you?”

  Bennett looked to Margery for help. She met Rand’s gaze. “Your father wouldn’t allow us to marry, so we were planning to elope. I have no idea, however, how Alban could have found out.”

  “Alban had his ways,” Rand said darkly. “So then what happened?”

  Bennett’s swallow was audible from across the room. “I dived off my horse to knock the gun from his grasp, and it went off. Then he drew his sword, and I panicked. Alban was known for his swordsmanship, and he wasn’t looking for a duel of honor—he’d made it clear he wanted me dead. I swiped a stout branch off the ground and bashed him over the head. He went down like a sack of flour.”

  Rand still paced. “And he was dead.”

  “Dead as a doornail, I’m afraid. I didn’t mean to kill him—I could have shot him if I’d wanted that. I was hunting and had a musket, after all. But I wasn’t sorry. He didn’t deserve my Margery—he treated her abominably.”

  “Don’t you see?” Margery slid off Bennett’s lap and went over to Rand, halting him with a hand on his arm. “It was self-defense. If he hadn’t done Alban in, Bennett would’ve been dead instead.”

  “But how to prove it?” Lily asked.

  “I don’t know.” Margery looked toward her pleadingly. “But you must help me find a way.”

  “We will,” Lily promised softly.

  Rand had too many problems for Lily to burden him with her own, but without her sisters here for support, she’d been feeling adrift and alone. She and Margery had a common goal. Together, with Rand’s help, they would fight to keep their men.

  The two women shared a sad, understanding smile, and Lily felt a little bit better.

  Forty-Seven

  THE MARQUESS failed to appear for supper that evening, claiming a backlog of work due to Alban’s demise. He took a tray in his study instead.

  But later that night, when Rand, Lily, and Margery were passing the hours in the north drawing room, Lily playing gentle tunes while Rand and Margery sat nearby and puzzled over what could be done, the marquess appeared in the doorway. Lily’s fingers stilled on the keys, leaving an expectant silence.

  “No matter what you believe,” the marquess said, addressing himself to Margery, “I have raised you like my own daughter and care for you as though you were. Your pleas haven’t fallen on entirely deaf ears.”

  Rand saw Margery’s heart leap into her eyes and felt his own heart leap as well. “Yes?” he asked when she appeared unable to speak.

  The marquess swung his cold gray gaze on him. “I have a plan to spare her lover’s life.”

  “Thank heavens,” Margery breathed.

  “Thank me,” the man snapped. “The truth is I know better than to make this offer. You should be thankful I have a soft heart.”

  Rand bit back a retort. The marquess had claimed he cared for her as a daughter. For Margery’s sake, Rand hoped the man believed a daughter should be better treated than a son.

  She rose, her black skirts trembling as she slowly approached the doorway. “What is your plan, Uncle William?”

  The marquess straightened. “On your twenty-first birthday, one week hence, you will wed my son.”

  “Oh, no—”

  “Oh, yes. Should the two of you fail to marry, your lover will hang. Should the wedding take place, I shall see that he is granted a commutation of sentence and transported to the colonies instead.” He paused, drawing breath. “May God forgive me my weakness,” he said to no one in particular, then turned and strode from the chamber.

  As one, the three of them released their breaths.

  “This is unconscionable,” Rand gritted out.

  Margery’s face was even paler than usual. A pure, bloodless white. “We must marry,” she whispered, casting an apologetic glance to Lily. She focused back on Rand. “We must marry to save Bennett’s life.”

  Forty-Eight

  MARGERY TOOK a few faltering steps toward Rand, then dropped to her knees at his feet. “We must marry.” She clutched his ankles. “We must.”

  A dazed expression on his face, Rand reached for her shoulders and raised her to stand. “There must be another way.”

  Unable to believe this turn of events, Lily watched as Margery searched Rand’s eyes, her own green eyes frantic. She gripped his hands in both of hers. “But will you? To save his life? Tell me you will. From my earliest memories, I looked up to you, Rand. You were my big brother who could do no wrong. You won’t let me down, will you? Tell me you’ll marry me to save Bennett’s life.”

  Though a muscle in his jaw twitched, he nodded. “I won’t doom another man to die. But there must be another way.”

  Tears streaming down her face, Margery hugged him, hard. Then, without another word, she ran from the room.

  Lily released a deep, shuddering breath. “Rand—”

  “I’ve never seen her this selfish.” His gaze swung from the empty doorway to Lily. “She didn’t for a moment consider how I’d feel about this marriage. Or you.”

  “I’d feel the same way if your life were threatened. I’d ask anything of anyone.”

  After a moment of thought, he nodded. “I’d do the same for you. But there must be another way for Margery and Bennett. I won’t lose you.”

  She walked closer. “A man’s life is at stake.”

  “There must be another way.”

  It was becoming a litany, one Lily wished she could believe. “Does your father truly wield such power?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Rand took her elbow and began walking her toward her chamber. “You must realize that outside of London there is little if any provision for due process of the law. If the Marquess of Hawkridge wishes Bennett dead, he can make it happen. Is it not the same for the little area of the world where your father is the lord?”

  Reluctantly she nodded. “I suppose it is. But I’ve never seen him wish anyone dead. Life at Trentingham is generally peaceful.” A peace she hadn’t expected to miss, a peace she’d even equated with boredom at times.

  Oh, to live again that blessed, boring peace.

  “Life at Hawkridge has never been peaceful,” Rand said ruefully, stopping in front of the Queen’s Bedchamber. “But I hope to take you away from here to where we can live in peace. Soon.”

  He opened the door. Inside, a fire was already lit and several candles burned merrily, but the room still seemed an empty void.

  “Oh, Rand.” She turned into his arms.

  He held her tight for a long, long time before he extricated himself. “Sleep well,” he said softly, then turned and walked away.

  Unable to watch him leave, she stepped into the chamber and shut the door behind her. Then leaned back against it, fighting the nausea that threatened when she thought of her happiness slipping away.

  Just that morning, she’d stood with Rand by the river, laughing, hugging him, so very glad to learn that Margery was in love with another man. Tonight, he’d said, after all this is settled, I’ll come to you.

  In that moment, it had seemed that life would be perfect after all. But now, instead of coming to her, he had walked away.

  To go to Margery instead? She thought not. She was far past any insecurities where Rand’s love was concerned.

  But he was an honorable man, and she knew, without a doubt, that if it meant saving Bennett’s life, he’d marry Margery instead of her.

  Forty-Nine

  IN HIS SMALL chamber, Rand sat on the bed to tug off his boots. There must be another way, he repeated to himself over and over as he pulled off his stockings and crushed them into balls that he threw across the room with an anger he hadn’t felt since he’d last lived in this damned house. He shrugged out of his surcoat and yanked at the cravat at his throat, throwing those across the room, too. He wished he had something to break, but his chamber had been stripped of all but the furniture some time in the fourteen years between when he’d left for Oxford and now.

  There h
ad to be another way.

  He was loosening the laces on his shirt when a soft knock came at the door. Thinking it must be Lily, his heart gave a little hitch. He wanted her. Oh, how he wanted her.

  And he couldn’t have her, not now. But neither could he turn her away. Fighting with himself, he hurried to open the door.

  Margery stood there instead.

  She was still wearing the dull black gown, the clothes the marquess had sent her to London to obtain to show the proper respect for his dead son. Her eyes red-rimmed, she twisted her fingers together. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

  Though her tone sounded dire, Rand just sighed. “Come in, Margery.”

  He shut the door and led her to sit on the room’s only chair, struggling to appear sympathetic. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but he’d had about all the anguish he could take—and despite her obvious distress, he couldn’t imagine anything that could make this situation even worse.

  Until he heard her next words.

  “Rand…oh, Rand, I’m with child.”

  He dropped abruptly to sit on the bed. “God, Margery.” Hardly sympathetic, but he was too shocked to know what to say. No matter that Lily might be in the same way, this was Margery, his baby sister, Margery…

  Looking even more miserable, she laid a hand on her still-flat middle. “No one else knows except Bennett. It’s why we’d planned to elope. I tried to obey, Rand, truly I did, but I just couldn’t marry Alban knowing I carried Bennett’s child. Alban was…he would have killed it,” she said flatly.

  Rand could imagine that all too well. “Well, he cannot kill it now,” he said in a way he hoped was soothing.

  “But I still…” Again, her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Rand, will you raise it as yours? I know it’s a lot to ask, but we can hope it’s a girl so it won’t be your heir, and—”

  “We’re going to find another way.” Rand’s head was suddenly throbbing. “It won’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl, because the child will be raised by its father.”

  “But what if, Rand?” Apparently she was quite past believing that. “Uncle William is planning our wedding for seven days hence. What if we’re forced to marry? Will you raise this child as yours? I could have hidden it from you, tried to make you believe it was yours, but—”

  “You’re not like that, I know.”

  And he also knew there was no chance he’d ever fall for such a ploy, because if, heaven forbid, he was forced to wed her, he wouldn’t be sharing her bed.

  He would never again lie with anyone but Lily.

  Margery stood and wrapped her arms around her middle. Slow tears trailed down her pale cheeks, leaking from eyes that looked hopeless. “What if, Rand? Will you be a true father to this child?”

  “Of course I will,” he said simply, because there was nothing else he could say.

  But he would find another way…because there was nothing else he could do.

  Nothing.

  Fifty

  CLAD IN HER night rail with her hair in one long plait, Lily huddled under the covers of the giant state bed.

  Just hours earlier at Bennett’s house, she’d thought she and Margery had made an unspoken pact, come to a wordless understanding that they would fight this problem together. But perhaps that wasn’t true; perhaps it had been her imagination. Because if a silent promise had indeed passed between them, Margery had broken it already.

  Not that Lily blamed her. As she’d told Rand, were his life at risk, she’d do anything for a chance to save him. But that truth didn’t ease the distress of realizing that, other than Rand, she had no allies here at Hawkridge at all.

  Although Beatrix cuddled with her, she’d never felt so alone in her life.

  Was she fated to be alone forever?

  There must be another way, Rand had said over and over, as though he could make it so by repetition alone. But Lily was unconvinced. It seemed that no matter what solution they came up with, his father would shoot it down.

  For a long time she lay awake, stroking Beatrix’s downy fur and watching the shadows made on the walls by the all-too-cheerful dancing flames of the fire. Rand had no love for this house, and as much as she always tried to look on the bright side of things, she couldn’t help but think that in this case he was right. Although it was beautiful, there seemed something evil about Hawkridge, something that made her skin crawl. She didn’t like being alone in this room.

  She hugged herself for a long while. Then she climbed out of bed and slid a wrapper over her night rail.

  A few minutes later, she knocked softly on Rand’s door. He came to answer, wearing just breeches and a shirt that was open at the neck and cuffs. He looked as sleepless as she.

  “Rand? May I just sleep here?”

  He gathered her close. “I’m not sure,” he said with a sad little chuckle. “Last night was torture for us both.” Tilting her chin up, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’m afraid, sweetheart, that for me, you’re too much of a temptation.”

  A heaviness settled in Lily’s chest. She stared down at his bare feet. No matter what he said over and over, he wasn’t convinced that everything would work out. Or else he would want her in his bed, and damn the risk of conceiving.

  “Oh, Lily…” He slipped his hands under her wrapper, settling them on her hips to pull her close. His fingers seemed to burn through her night rail.

  She raised a palm and placed it against his chest, inside the open placket of his shirt, where his bare skin was brown and warm. “Rand…” Shutting her eyes against the pain in his, she went to her toes for a kiss. Though his lips on hers felt achingly familiar, the caress didn’t bring the relief she was seeking.

  The kiss was hot and desperate and set her heart to pounding, but it failed to make her forget that, barring a miracle, he was going to marry another woman.

  He reached blindly to unravel her plait, his eyes still closed and his mouth still locked on hers. A pathetic little moan escaped her throat as she wondered if this was the last time she’d feel the loving tugs of his fingers freeing her hair, the last time he’d claim her lips with passionate abandon.

  Finally, with a heartfelt sigh, he broke the kiss and swung her up into his arms.

  “We cannot,” she said.

  “There are other ways, Lily.” He deposited her on his small childhood bed and looked down on her, tenderly finger combing her hair into a halo around her head. “Ways we can be together that don’t carry the risk of getting you with child.”

  “But we cannot.” When he stretched out beside her, she turned to meet his eyes. “You shouldn’t even be kissing me. Don’t you see? We cannot be together this way, knowing you might marry Margery. It would be wrong.”

  He looked away, staring up at the underside of the serviceable blue canopy. No Queen’s Bedchamber, this—no silk for Rand Nesbitt at Hawkridge Hall. His room was barely more than a closet.

  “Yes,” he agreed at last. “It would be wrong.”

  She lay back and ran a trembling hand through her hair. What if she was already with child? She had no doubt now that it would make little difference to Rand’s father—he was determined his son wed Margery. She would have to hope her womb was yet empty.

  But she couldn’t find it in herself to wish for that. If fate decreed that Rand’s child was the only piece of him she could ever have, she would take it along with the consequences and be happy for the privilege.

  “I don’t like it here,” she whispered into the silence. “This house. I cannot sleep in that room alone.”

  “Stay with me, then,” Rand said. “I’ll be the perfect gentleman, although it will probably kill me.” He snuggled against her, releasing a strangled groan. “And tomorrow, I’ll take you home. I don’t like this house any more than you do, and I’ve things to take care of in Oxford.”

  Fifty-One

  RAND SET THEIR luggage by the carriage and, leaving two outriders to deal with it, headed into the house to fetch Lily.
>
  “You’ll be back, I presume? A week from yesterday?”

  Rand pivoted to see the marquess standing outdoors, holding two dogs by their chain collars. “Yes, I’ll be back,” he forced through gritted teeth, hoping against hope that he’d be arriving with a solution to this dilemma.

  “Sit,” the man told the dogs. “Stay.” He climbed the steps to Rand. “Margery told me you’re willing to wed her in order to save Bennett’s life. She’s very grateful.”

  Rand had nothing to say to that.

  “Son,” the marquess started—and when Rand visibly flinched, the man sighed. “I suppose I deserve that. I just wanted to say I’m impressed that you’re willing to do the right thing and marry the girl. It’s admirable, considering you had other plans.”

  Rand consciously unclenched his jaw. “Lily is more than plans; Lily is my life. And your approval means nothing to me. I don’t need the admiration of a man who ignored me all my childhood.”

  With that, he turned to head upstairs, but the marquess caught his arm. “I’m…I’m sorry for that.” Rand stared, unable to believe the word sorry had passed the old goat’s lips. He opened his mouth to voice another retort, but the man rushed on. “I was thinking, last night, about you and Alban and Margery.”

  “And how you liked the two of them better than me?”

  “Yes,” he bit out. “I did. I’m not proud of it, but there’s the truth. I always blamed you for your mother’s death. Whenever I looked at you, I was reminded, and—”

  “Her death? However did your twisted mind come up with that? I wasn’t even home when she died!”

  “Exactly. You’d run off somewhere, as was your habit in those days. She died searching for her precious younger son.”

  Rand felt like all the air had been sucked right out of him. Run off, as was your habit. “She died searching?”

  “She raced off on Queenie, her mare. The animal failed to clear a fence. Broke two legs and had to be put down. Your mother broke her neck.”