Two Beaux and a Promise Collection

by Allison Lane

  “Poor woman,” Maggie murmured at last. “Alice was right. She truly loved my mother.”

  “No one knew how deeply she mourned the separation until after her death.” He took a chair facing her.

  “She never spoke of it?”

  “The family never discussed Elizabeth. Until Aunt Margaret’s death, everything I knew about the situation came from the Adams boys.”

  “In that case, it cannot have been flattering,” she said dryly.

  “It was not.” He shook his head. “Not until Margaret’s will was read did I demand the truth from my grandfather, Richard.”

  “Which was?”

  “Richard Widmer and George Adams were neighbors and close friends who wanted to unite their lines through marriage. But neither of them had sired a daughter, so Richard offered his niece Elizabeth as a suitable wife for William. Margaret objected – she preferred Andrew even at the age of twelve – but Richard ignored her, attributing her dislike to a recent prank that had broken Elizabeth’s arm.”

  Maggie tapped the letter. “She writes that Mother’s elopement removed the light from her life and begs her to return home, condemning America as uncivilized.” She shook her head. “Why does everyone in England criticize a place they know nothing about?”

  “You must admit that the country is largely unsettled, though I agree that Boston and Philadelphia differ from London only in size. Your capital, however, is another story.”

  “You sound as though you’ve been there.”

  “Three years ago.”

  “Then you will understand that I have little incentive to live in England. I love the excitement. America offers opportunities I could never find here. Life can be hard, but the rewards are worth it.”

  “Your mother died at thirty-one, and your father was killed in a mine disaster.”

  “Mother died of an inflammation of the lungs – an ailment that kills people of all classes in both our countries. And I doubt that English mines are any safer.”

  He shrugged, though a viscount’s son would never have worked in an English mine.

  “I cannot accept this bequest,” she said, tapping the letter. “Grandmother may have attached no conditions, but she clearly expected compliance with her wishes.”

  “But the inheritance is yours. Having proved your identity, Frankel has no choice but to transfer the property.”

  “I understand the legalities, but that does not mean I must keep it. Overseeing the estate would be difficult.”

  “Hire an agent.”

  “I prefer to manage my own holdings,” she said absently.

  Marcus pursed his lips in a silent whistle. Obviously Andrew had done well in America. Maggie Adams was no rustic, as he should have known from the beginning. The way she had shaken his hand had not been the untutored response of an ignorant girl but the habit of someone accustomed to the world of business. And there were other clues – her reticence about her father, her familiarity with legal proceedings, her indifference to the opulence of the Grand Regent… She’d also recognized Robert’s toadeating as the fustian it was, hinting that she had encountered the same thing in the past. And she was—

  “Who in the Widmer family has the greatest need?” she asked.

  “What?” The question jerked him out of his contemplation.

  Maggie wondered what held his thoughts. He was staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. But she would consider that later.

  Clearly this legacy was behind Robert’s sudden infatuation. Five thousand guineas could support him for years, even without the estate income. Thus giving away the inheritance would remove his interest. “You mentioned my cousins – I believe fourteen others are descended from Grandmother. Who has the most need of property?”

  “Michael is always drowning in the River Tick, but he would game away anything he acquired,” he said warily.

  “Perhaps I should be clearer. Who is both needful and deserving of help? Surely there is someone. This bequest should go to one of Grandmother’s descendants, but I’ve no patience with gamesters.”

  His eyes flashed in surprise. How had he succeeded as a diplomat when his thoughts showed so clearly?

  “Needful and deserving,” he repeated slowly. “Edwin Jenkins is a captain, currently in Paris with Wellington’s occupation force. Since military pay never covers an officer’s expenses, he is perpetually short of funds. Thomas Widmer is vicar to a poor parish in Yorkshire. His income barely supports his family.”

  “Is Edwin married?”

  “Not yet, though he has an understanding with his neighbor’s daughter. Now that the war is over, he will make a formal offer.”

  “And leave the military?”

  “No. He loves it. His wife will join him wherever he is posted.”

  “What about Thomas? Is he dedicated to the church?”

  Marcus frowned. “I have never heard him complain, but I suspect he took orders to avoid buying colors. He would not have lasted a week on a battlefield, yet the family had no other position for him.”

  “And unlike you, he hasn’t the means to strike out on his own.”

  “Or the interest. Few gentlemen are willing to tarnish their reputations with trade.”

  She nodded. “Very well. Thomas can have the estate and half the money. The rest will go to Edwin.”

  “You should think about this for a few days.”

  “There is no need.” She met his gaze, holding his eyes until she was sure he understood her situation. When he nodded, she continued. “Grandmother remembered a young girl trained to English society. She would not have recognized the woman that girl became. Mother loved challenge and would have laughed at the idea of returning to England. I am no different. Thus I have no moral claim to her money. Let it go to those who are content to live in her world.”

  “But—”

  “You needn’t concern yourself with this, Marcus. I cannot accept it under false pretenses.”

  “Very well. We will put Frankel to work.” Rising, he helped her to her feet, catching her by the shoulders when she stumbled. Sparks sizzled up his arms. “Would you like to meet my grandfather? He has changed since your parents eloped, and he now knows that Elizabeth chose more wisely than he. I fear your Uncle William is a wastrel.”

  It was a perfect solution to avoiding Robert. She smiled. “I came to England to meet my family. When shall we leave?”

  “Tomorrow morning. In the meantime, why don’t I show you about London?”

  -5-

  Maggie was closing her trunk the next morning when someone rapped on the sitting room door. Expecting Marcus, she pulled it open.

  “Are you ready?” asked Robert, stepping inside before she could block him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Taking you to the balloon ascension, as promised. You will have seen nothing like it in the wilderness.” His eyes gleamed just as Patrick’s had that last day, snapping her to attention.

  “I declined your invitation,” she reminded him. It had been waiting for her when she and Richard had returned from visiting St. Paul’s Cathedral and Week’s Mechanical Museum. Sidling closer to the writing table, she fingered her reticule. “As I explained, I have other plans.”

  His voice hardened. “I am family, which makes me more important than shopping, Maggie, so cease this teasing. We’ve barely an hour to reach the launch site.”

  “I have no interest in balloons.”

  “I warned you about arguing with gentlemen.” He circled the table she’d set between them, stopping an arm’s length away. “A lady’s first duty is to her family. If you insist on shopping, so be it. But we cannot risk having you bring dishonor to our name, so I must accompany you on expeditions until you learn society’s rules.”

  “Since your father disowned mine, we are not family. Thus you have no voice in where I go or how I conduct myself,” she said firmly. “No one would think you responsible for my behavior. Now leave.”

  “No.�
�� His eyes blazed. “You are an Adams. Your actions reflect on our name, so we must take care of you until you assume your proper place in the world.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He smiled. “You days as an ape-leader are over, my dear. The family has found you a husband – me.”

  “Absurd.”

  His fists clenched. “The family honor is at stake, Maggie. We have endured scandal ever since Andrew defiled our name. Only our marriage will suppress it. You will enjoy it more if you accept the inevitable like the lady you pretend to be. We will remain at Fielding Court until you learn to—”

  “What fustian!” She wanted to smash a chair over his foolish head. Family honor indeed! “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my life.” But she could see the determination in his eyes. He would not accept her refusal. Loosening the strings on her reticule, she slipped a hand inside.

  “I knew you were too stupid to recognize your good fortune.” He shook his head as he stepped forward to seize her arm. “I must confine you to the country until you learn your place.”

  “Don’t touch me!” She slammed a knee into his groin, doubling him over. Jerking the pistol from her reticule, she backed out of reach.

  “You will - regret - this.” His voice squeaked between gasps for air, making the threat sound feeble.

  “Hardly.” Her hand remained steady. “This is farewell, Cousin. Father was wrong to believe that rapprochement was possible. Either leave, or I shoot.”

  He tensed to attack – anger was eroding his sense – but before he could spring, Alice returned from the kitchens.

  “What is going on?” she demanded, taking in the scene. “I knew he would make a nuisance of himself.”

  “We are discovered,” wailed Robert, shakily straightening. “You are compromised, my dear. Marriage is your only hope.” He produced a special license.

  Maggie laughed. “English girls must be foolish indeed if you thought this scheme would work, Cousin. Find another pigeon for your trap. I will never wed you.”

  Fury flushed his face. “Do you wish to be cut by society?”

  “If you had listened to anything I’ve said, you would know how stupid that sounds. I have no interest in the opinions of fribbles and wastrels.”

  “But—”

  “No one would question us discussing family business unchaperoned.”

  “Further proof that you know nothing of the world.”

  “Of your world, possibly. But that society has no authority outside of England, and its scandals matter only to itself. The rest of us have more important things to think about. Now leave.”

  He stared at the pistol, clearly contemplating his chances of wresting it away.

  “Do not underestimate me,” she warned. “No one survives in the wilderness without learning to handle weapons. Will you go quietly, or must we summon the staff?” Alice had her hand on the bell pull.

  “You will rue this day,” he spat, raking her with such loathing she nearly flinched. “No one insults me with impunity.” He stalked away, slamming the door behind him.

  “Conceited oaf! What happened?” asked Alice, sliding the bolt shut.

  “I’m not sure.” She set down the pistol and sank into a chair. “He invited me to a balloon ascension. When I refused, he began prattling of honor and claimed that the family’s name is in jeopardy – which translates into my having to wed him. But if he needs Grandmother’s legacy that badly, he won’t give up.”

  “Heavens!”

  “Exactly.” She glanced at her pistol, grateful she always carried it when traveling. “Are you sure you won’t accompany us to Wyndmer Park? Robert is clearly dangerous.”

  Alice shook her head. “Simmons has finally agreed to overlook my gender and instruct me in hotel management. And Henri is teaching me more techniques each day.”

  “So how is our stalwart chef?” she asked, smiling.

  “More puffed up than ever. He is a man of great appetites and even greater conceit.”

  “Take care. He seeks more than flirtation.”

  She laughed. “He is already carrying on with at least two maids, so you needn’t fret. He thinks I will approach the Clarendon’s chef if he annoys me. They are fierce rivals. Henri swears he himself is more talented, despite the fact that Jaquiers, not he, was once chef to the French king.” She brandished several scraps of paper.

  “What did he give you this time?”

  “Henri’s Delight,” she said, tapping the top one. “That exquisite dove pie we ate last night, the meringue glaces in raspberry sauce, a towering croquembouche – Simmons raves about it, though I haven’t sampled it yet – and several sauces.”

  “Good luck,” said Maggie as another rap echoed.

  * * * *

  Marcus smiled when Maggie opened her door. Every time he saw her, his longing grew, making it harder to remember that she would soon be gone. “Are you ready?”

  “In a moment.” She handed a pistol to Alice. “You have more need of this than we do. Keep the door bolted and do not leave the hotel alone. Robert may abduct you, hoping to force my hand.”

  They exchanged speaking glances.

  Marcus frowned, but he held his tongue until they were in his carriage. “What was that all about?”

  She shrugged. “Robert covets Grandmother’s legacy, so he has decided to wed me. My refusal did not improve his temper. When will Mr. Frankel finish the transfer papers?”

  “They will be ready when we return.” Someone needed to teach Robert a lesson, he decided, frowning. But first he must warn Maggie of her real danger. Postponing this discussion had been a mistake. He only hoped she would not kill the messenger. She might claim she had come to England because of the vow to her father, but he knew better. Andrew’s death had left her alone. She needed family to fill the void in her life, so discovering the truth about the Adams men would hurt. Could she accept the facts, especially those that showed her father in a less than saintly light?

  Coward!

  His heart was more involved than he’d thought if he was ducking the job merely to stay in her good graces, he admitted in shock. But he could think about that later. Drawing in a deep breath, he launched the explanation he should have made yesterday. “Margaret’s legacy is not Robert’s goal – though he would consider it a satisfying bonus.”

  “What now?”

  Cloudy skies made it too dark to read her expression, so he clasped her hand. Touching her was the only way to gauge her reaction. “I thought Grandfather could do this better, but I will try to explain.”

  “Explain what?”

  “About Andrew and William.”

  “Is this about the theft that drove Father from the country?”

  “That was merely their last contretemps.” He stroked her fingers, momentarily distracted by their trembling. “Even as boys, William and Andrew were usually at odds, arguing with an edge that made others uncomfortable. Their pranks sometimes turned dangerous. And both suffered numerous unexplained injuries.”

  “Robert claimed that Father was jealous of William’s position as the heir, but I cannot believe it.”

  “I suspect it was the other way around, but Andrew was not blameless. He retaliated against his brother’s malice. And though his reputation as a gamester was exaggerated, he did lose three thousand guineas shortly before William was to be married.”

  “He would never do such a thing!” swore Maggie hotly.

  “Maggie—” He caught her other hand, kissing it lightly. “We all make mistakes. The smart ones learn from the experience. I am not criticizing your father.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “I am explaining the truth he wanted you to find. Personally, I think that card game was odd – not that it matters now. George paid the debt, but he and William reminded Andrew of his shame every day.”

  She relaxed. “So he made a mistake that his family refused to forgive. I suppose they believed the other charges, too.”r />
  “Of course.” Relief warmed him. He should have trusted her sooner. “I suspect William started most of the rumors, for there was little evidence beyond the usual young man’s wildness. He hated Andrew for being everything he was not – charming, intelligent, honorable, even better looking. The final straw was when he discovered that Andrew and Elizabeth were in love.”

  “Yet everyone continued pressing her to wed William.”

  “They had no choice.” He met her gaze. “The betrothal had been arranged when they were children. Contracts had been signed. Neither party could cry off without the other’s consent, though William might have agreed if she had wanted anyone but Andrew.”

  “So Mother eloped.”

  He nodded. “When Margaret died, we discovered that your parents had written twice. The first letter confirmed that they had wed and swore that Andrew was innocent of theft. The second announced your birth. That was the last she heard.”

  “I should have realized she’d written. How else would Frankel have known about me?” She shook her head. “I don’t know why there were only two letters, unless Father feared retribution. Or maybe it was too difficult – they moved to the frontier shortly after I was born.” She sighed. “You’ve tiptoed around the subject long enough, Marcus. Was William responsible for that theft?”

  “All the evidence pointed to Andrew – supposedly he had incurred another gaming debt. He swore he was innocent, but George summoned a magistrate. By the time the man arrived, Andrew and Elizabeth were gone.”

  “That explains why they sailed under false names. With his own father against him, he was helpless.” Her voice was shaking.

  “George should have known better, but he only discovered the truth a year ago,” he said wearily.

  “How?”

  “His valet spotted William leaving a forgotten secret passage. When George explored it, he found the missing jewelry in a niche behind Andrew’s old room. He consulted Richard, but they could think of no way to prove William was the thief. William could claim that he’d just discovered the passage himself and that Andrew had fled before he could recover the jewelry.”