Passion Regency Style

by Wendy Vella

  When he arrived and their gazes found each other, it was quite magical.

  She was sure of him in that moment. As he spoke into her eyes with his own sincere blues, she knew he loved her. She simply knew it, and the emotion they shared at that moment exploded between them when their eyes met, locked, and drew them towards one another. They walked as though in a trance—as though no one stood in their way, as though no other being occupied space—and came to stand before each other as their souls whispered unspoken words of love.

  * * *

  Sally Sonhurst stood back and gasped as she watched their encounter.

  She could not be mistaken, for she could see it with her own eyes. Dunkirk was looking at this girl, this stranger, a slip of a child really, as though she were a lifeline!

  Her earl, for she always thought of him as hers, was taken by a nobody of a girl! Indeed, the chit was lovely, but who was she? How had this happened? When had it happened?

  Sally felt a deep-seated hatred form inside her chest for the girl the earl was staring at so lovingly. He had never, even in their early, heady days, looked at her like that!

  She turned to Holland, and he nodded, obviously expressing that he had seen them.

  Holland was right. Indeed, she couldn’t wait past this evening. She had to marry him at once, just as Holland had laid out. It had to be this evening. They could not make any mistakes, or all would be lost.

  Dash it! It appeared as though he was about to take a plunge and offer for this girl. He had the look of a man in love.

  Well, that was not going to happen after all the time and effort she had put into him. She would rather see him dead than have people say he threw her over for some unknown chit!

  “Cut out entirely,” Holland said in her ear. “He will hate you in the morning.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He can hate me all he wants—we will be man and wife, and she won’t want him after that.”

  “You seem upset. It can’t be that you actually love him?” Holland asked, sounding surprised.

  “No, and at this moment, I think I loathe him. He chose her, over me?” she muttered, incredulous.

  Holland laughed and started to turn away. “We must not be seen together,” he said softly as he left her behind.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  BESS FELT SOMEONE touch her back and turned to find her father smiling fondly. “Oh, Papa …” she said breathlessly and found it difficult so difficult not to turn her gaze back to Dunkirk.

  Her father greeted the earl heartily and bent his elbow towards his daughter to lead her off, and she knew he was observing the proprieties. She was suddenly aware of a great many heads turned her way.

  Dunkirk stalled her father by saying, “My lord, I was going to wait till the morning, but I find I am unable to do so. Do you think you could spare me a few moments private conversation later this evening?”

  Saunders smiled happily. “Indeed, I was wondering when you would get around to it.” He inclined his head and led his daughter away. When Bess bent her neck to look back at the earl, she saw that he was suddenly surrounded by a bevy of his friends.

  She looked up at her father and asked, “What was that, Papa?”

  “You shall find out soon enough, brat,” he answered and could not be moved to say more.

  As Bess’s hand was taken for a country dance, she glanced around for the earl and saw him speaking with Lady Jersey. She sighed, wondering if he would ever make his way back to her.

  A waltz was struck, a gloved finger on her shoulder made her look around, and there he was. He was a large man and took up a great amount of space, but to Bess he seemed to take up so much more with that glow, a glow that emanated all around him, and had from the first time she saw him. She gasped for air as he said, “I have permission from the Jersey to lead you out for the first waltz.”

  She heard the music, just barely, as he took her hand and led her to the dance floor. She didn’t feel the polished wood beneath her satin slippers, for she thought she was floating just above, held up by his strong hand on her waist and the hand he had taken to his chest. It was outrageous, the way he held her, and surely the gossipmongers would be ready to dissect them, but she didn’t care. She was in heaven.

  “Ye are stunning, lass, stunning.” His voice was lined with a deep growl of desire.

  “You are as well,” she answered. “I love you in black velvet, and your cravat with the black embroidery … so stylish, so masculine.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Ye are m’treasure, Bess, m’love—mine, do ye hear—mine. I have seen the puppies hovering around ye, and it is all I can do not to take them by their collars and throw them into the garden.”

  It was her turn to laugh, and the sound was full of joy. He loved her. All it needed was for him to say so.

  “Holland is here. I could not believe it when I first clapped eyes on him, but at least he has kept his distance,” Bess said, as this had troubled her.

  “I know. I met him for a brief moment after I arrived, and he asked if he could have a private word with me. I doona wish to give him anything, but I am curious about what he wants.”

  “Oh, don’t meet with him, don’t,” Bess said anxiously. “I can’t explain it, my lord, but I have a bad very bad feeling about it.”

  “My lord?” he whispered near her ear. “I seem to recall ye saying m’name, calling out my name, many times. Ye haven’t forgotten already, have ye?”

  She felt the heat rush through her body and pool in her cheeks. “I shall never forget,” she said simply.

  “Good, but just the same, I mean to remind ye over and over again.” His voice was husky and full of meaning.

  * * *

  The waltz came to an end, and he had no choice but to lead her back to her group of friends. Champagne was being served, and after he handed a glass to Bess he turned to find one placed in his gloved hand by a petite maid who seemed to be interested in his shoes. Amused by this, he turned, toasted Bess, and sipped his champagne.

  He wrinkled his nose and thought Jersey had never before served such inferior wine; he finished it with a grimace.

  A moment later, he was surprised to find Holland at his elbow saying, “My lord, if we could have that little talk now. There is something you don’t know about Mary … and I don’t wish to be associated with it …”

  “Indeed, I thought that was done.”

  “If you would afford me a few moments I will explain,” Holland said.

  The earl touched Bess’s elbow and whispered, “I shall return in a moment.”

  He saw his beloved’s expression and knew she was concerned, but he wouldn’t be long. By all that was earth, air, and fire, he loved her, and once he was done with Holland he would tell her so!

  Holland led him to the garden doors, and the earl pulled a face. “Outside, man? Why outside? We can find a quiet room.”

  “I don’t want anyone to hear us, to see us go off alone together and wonder at it. Too many gossipmongers about, and Prinny loves gossip.”

  The earl complied, but when they stepped outside and into the fresh air, he felt as though he had had too much too drink. His movements felt labored. His eyes couldn’t focus, and a sudden dawning hit him. “You … champagne … you … devil!”

  He felt arms link under his underarms and looked up to see a young, well-dressed man. He heard the man say to Holland, “Our debt is done after this.”

  “Yes, yes, only hurry,” Holland said.

  Dunkirk tried to grab hold of the man at his back but found he had no control of his hands. He tried to kick at Holland, who held his legs, but though he struggled to move, he realized he barely was able to jiggle his legs.

  His last thought as he blacked out completely was, Aye then, Holland means to throw me in the river, and whatever I’ve been given will surely leave me unable to swim …

  * * *

  Bess watched as Holland opened the garden door for the earl to pass through. She witne
ssed the earl’s hesitation before he went outside, and something in her stomach fluttered.

  Wrong—this was all wrong. What did Holland want with the earl?

  And what was wrong with her beloved? The earl appeared suddenly as though he were bosky, and she knew that he wasn’t.

  She saw him hold onto the door frame as though to steady himself. She saw him shake his head and blink as he swayed. Holland actually put an arm about him as though to steady him. What the devil was going on?

  Anyone else would think he had had too much to drink and was going out for a bit of night air to clear his head. She knew better. She had only a moment ago been speaking with him. She rather thought he hadn’t anything to drink but the glass of champagne …?

  That glass the maid had handed to him specifically. She hit her forehead as dawning lit in her brain. He had said it tasted poor quality, but hers had not.

  Of course—it had been laced with something dreadful!

  Her mind worked logically and in quick succession. Holland had done something to the earl’s drink!

  Bess was certain of this, and she ran to the garden doors without any other thought. She arrived just in time. Horror filled her heart as she gasped and reached out a hand as though to stop them.

  She saw the earl as he swayed and began to fall. A young man, unknown to her, scooped the earl up by his armpits while Holland took the earl’s legs.

  They carried him towards a coach. She could see the crest on it, and with a shout in her throat, without thinking, she started forward after them but stopped when she felt nails digging into her bare arm.

  She turned and discovered Lady Sonhurst at her side, hissing at her like a cat. The woman spat, “Stay out of my way, chit!”

  Bess grabbed the woman’s arm. “Stop!”

  Sally Sonhurst whirled on her, withdrew the long pin that held a cluster of pearls in her hair, and without a moment’s hesitation stabbed Bess squarely in her stomach.

  Bess gasped and staggered backwards as Sally picked up her skirts and ran towards the coach in which the earl had already been deposited.

  For a moment, Bess was in shock, grasping out to hold onto something to keep herself from falling over, and then she found both Donna and Robby flanking and supporting her.

  Donna saw the blood around the pinhead of pearls and shrieked as Robby took command. “Hush.” He looked at Bess and said gently, “Easy there—I’m going to pull this out …”

  With a quick movement he withdrew the pin, whose four inches had been pushed into Bess, and she gasped with pain. Blood flowed freely over her gown, and she said, “I am fine. We don’t have any time. Fine—just need something to catch the blood,” she said to Donna, who immediately bent, tore off a piece of her underskirt, and applied it to Bess’s wound.

  “Who did this?” Robby demanded.

  “Lady Sonhurst,” Bess said and then looked at Donna. “They have drugged Dunkirk and carried him off. She is in cahoots with Holland—though what they are planning I cannot conceive.”

  Robby said, “Stay here, both of you. I am going to tell Bess’s father that we are taking her home.”

  “No, not home. We have to get to the earl. We have to find the coach, Robby. It had a crest on it, couldn’t have been Holland’s carriage. This was an unusual crest of palms and pineapples, very odd, all in gold.”

  “That is the Sonhurst crest. Some years ago the Sonhurst family made their fortune in the islands, some plantation or other,” Robby said.

  “Robby, I am impressed. How do you know all that?” Donna remarked as she looked at her husband and tried to hold Bess still.

  “What, don’t you think I am up to every rig?” He smirked at her.

  “Then we have to follow it—we are losing precious time,” Bess said, wincing as she first started off.

  “No, we are not losing any time at all. The traffic outside the Jersey’s is at a standstill. A carriage lost its wheel and toppled over. You can’t get through easily or timely.”

  Again, Donna was impressed. “How do you know that?”

  “Heard one of the guests complaining that they had to walk the last row to get to the ball and that was why they were so late.”

  Bess held the cloth to her wound and with some determination started off. “Then we shall head them off on foot.”

  “We need a gun,” Robby said. “No doubt of it, we need a gun.”

  Bess’s father arrived at that moment, took immediate stock of the situation, and said, “No, we do not, and mind me in this. There are other ways to catch vermin.” He took away the cloth from his daughter’s wound and shook his head. “My poor girl. Will you leave this to me and allow me to drop you first at home with Maddy?”

  “No, I am coming with you. ’Tis only …” She grinned naughtily. “A pin prick.”

  He shook his head, but his eyes were full with love. “Stay close then.”

  She nodded vigorously, and he touched her chin. “Then put this on—we haven’t time to go back for your cloaks.” He took off his velvet cutaway coat and overrode her protests that she would ruin it if blood got on it.

  Robby did the same for Donna, and Saunders said on a grim note, “Off we go. We must catch up to them …”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  IF THEY MADE an odd-looking foursome weaving through the mess of traffic and screaming drivers outside Lady Jersey’s elegant home, they neither noticed nor cared.

  They spied Lady Sonhurst’s coach, whose driver had managed to wield the horses leading it through the frenzied hub of traffic and was at the end of the long avenue, and they ran.

  They watched it turn the corner, and it didn’t take them long to realize where it was going, for Saunders had been acquainted with Sally Sonhurst’s late husband and knew just where her townhouse was located. He stopped them with his arm out and told them firmly, “Catch your breath. We haven’t far to go, and we can do so at an easier pace.”

  “But, Papa … they have him,” wailed Bess, who did not want to allow the coach to get out of sight.

  “Indeed they do, and I can’t fathom what they mean to do with him, but they are taking him to the Sonhurst townhouse. I doubt that they mean to harm him there.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” Robby said on a frown.

  “No, Robby, it does not,” Donna agreed, taking a long gulp of air. She turned to Bess and worriedly asked, “Are you bleeding still, Bess?”

  “Yes, but I’m fine, honestly. The bleeding is only a trickle now,” Bess lied and held her hand tightly over the cloth she had already turned inside out over her wound. She marveled to herself how a hole only a fraction of an inch could allow so much blood to pour out of her.

  It didn’t take them long to make their way to the front steps, and there Bess stood back to admire her father.

  He had such presence and command as he stood there and waited for someone to respond to his very harsh pounding of the door knocker.

  * * *

  Sally heard the noise at the front door, for apparently the visitor had taken to shouting as well as using the door knocker. She looked at Holland as they set Dunkirk on the sofa.

  “Who could that be?” she asked and picked nervously at her blue gown.

  “Get rid of them,” Holland snapped. “Hurry, Sally—we don’t have time for this. Just have your maid get rid of them.” He turned and addressed the minister, who was sipping his brandy in a comfortable chair near the fire. “Are you ready, Mr. Stokes?”

  The earl surprised Holland at that moment by suddenly getting to his unsteady feet and taking a swing at him.

  Holland sneered at him and made a low, guttural sound, but the earl’s words, though incoherent, most definitely held a threat, and his blue eyes glared as he swayed.

  Holland growled and pushed him hard, and the earl fell back on his heels and sat heavily on the sofa.

  The earl once again surprised Holland by putting his hands on his head and giving himself a shake before leveling a frenzied glan
ce at him and choking out, “I’ll kill ye fer this, doona ye know that?”

  “No, no, you won’t, and what is more, my arrogant lord, it will all be over in a moment, and you will have a wife, who I am certain will lead you a pretty dance all the rest of your days. And at night, well, whenever you look at her, you can think of me, as I have had her in every imaginable way a man can have a woman.” He grinned evilly. “Now won’t that be fun for you?”

  Mr. Stokes was a small man with a quizzing glass over one eye and a glass of brandy in his hand. He stood up at that moment and announced that he was ready to perform the ceremony. However, he then hiccupped and immediately sat back down.

  “Devil, doona think it will be so, doona think it,” the earl said on a raspy note as he once again tried to stand.

  Holland eyed him and said, “I don’t think I put enough of that laudanum in your drink, tch, tch. Coming out of it too soon, are we? Well, no matter, not soon enough to save yourself.” He pushed the earl back onto the sofa, turned, and closed his eyes a moment before he gritted his teeth and called out roughly, “Sally, what is taking you so long?”

  * * *

  Sally was at that very moment backing away from her drawing room door. Saunders, who had dismissed the maid from her duty with the threat of having the beadles fetched, entered forcefully, his daughter on his left and Robby looking like a demon ready to devour his prey on his right. Donna watched the maid as she followed them into the room.

  “Lady Sonhurst, you will cease and desist whatever it is you are doing,” the earl said between clenched teeth. Bess thought she had never seen him so very angry.

  Sally collected herself and was beginning to object when Saunders said, taking a bold step towards her, “I can have you thrown into the gallows for this night’s work. My daughter bleeds still from your vicious attack.” He stopped for a moment, and Bess actually thought he might strike the woman, but his fists remained clenched at his side. “Indeed, do not think you will come away unscathed from this. I will see to it that both of you pay.” He turned to Robby. “See to the earl …”