Regency for all Seasons: A Regency Romance Collection

by Mary Lancaster

  “How is she, Doctor?” Val asked, ignoring the man’s comment.

  “She’ll heal. I’d recommend getting some food into her, though. She’s far thinner than she ought to be and I daresay a good, healthy diet will help put her to rights. A few days rest and she’ll be right as rain.”

  Val looked at Miss Hartnett—Miss Burkhart—who looked shockingly like Lillian and nodded. “Very well, I’ll see you out.”

  “No need. I know the way,” the doctor replied. “Why, I’m beginning to feel at home here.”

  Val grinned in spite of himself as the doctor made his way out. His grin faded as Elizabeth Burkhart stirred. She opened her eyes and searched her surroundings. When her gaze settled on him, she let out a sharp gasp.

  “Is she hurt? Was Lillian hurt?” she demanded immediately.

  Val shook his head and took a seat in the chair by her bed. “She’s fine. Shaken but otherwise unharmed entirely. She’s with my grandmother. Why did you jump in the carriage?”

  She settled back against the pillows. “I recognized the man who leapt onto the box and struck the driver. He works for Alfred. I’ve seen him frequently over the last few weeks since I returned to London. I thought, between the two of us, we’d be able to overpower him. Or at the very least, I could help Lillian free herself.”

  “What have you seen while observing him?” Val demanded. “Any information at all that will nail his coffin shut, so to speak, will be of assistance.”

  “I’ve seen him with a blonde man,” she said. “The same one you’ve been following from time to time.”

  “That would be my cousin, Elsworth Somers.” Val offered. “He’s fallen in with Marchebanks more out of stupidity than immorality. But there will likely be a cost regardless. Do you know the identity of the woman they were meeting with the other night?”

  “Don’t you know?” she asked, clearly surprised at his ignorance on the matter.

  “No. Why would I?” he demanded.

  Her shocked stare might have been comical if they weren’t discussing such serious matters. “You truly have no idea what you’re dealing with, my lord. There is no one more evil than the woman you saw. In fact, I’d go so far as to suggest that she was the guiding hand behind Alfred’s fall.”

  “Then tell me who it is, Miss Burkhart, so that I may put this all to rest.”

  “You’ll never put it to rest… not in its entirety. You see, it’s none other than my aunt. Margaret Hazleton, the widow of Alfred’s late uncle and the woman who has been his lover for decades,” she answered. “Since long before his uncle died, to be sure!”

  And suddenly the tiles all clicked into place, every puzzle piece fitting together. “My meddling grandmother arranging the bequest to prompt Lilly to agree to my suit, and doing so through none other than Margaret Hazleton, literally put a price on my bride’s head.”

  Miss Burkhart nodded. “I have no idea what that means. She’s detested me from the moment I entered this world. I could never prove it, but I long suspected that my ruin at the hands of William Satterly had been orchestrated by her. The plot was entirely too sophisticated for Alfred to have come up with on his own. I can assure you that if Margaret had anything to gain either financially or socially by seeing my daughter harmed, she would not stop until the task was complete.”

  “Just as she won’t stop until you are dead.”

  The voice from the doorway belonged to Lillian. Val rose immediately and turned to face her. She looked calmer and certainly more amenable to a conversation with the injured woman before him than she had earlier in the day.

  “Are you well?” he asked.

  “Quite,” she replied. “And I’d like a word alone with Miss… with my mother.”

  Val rose. “You should both rest. It’s been a long and trying day… well, now may not be the time to mend fences.”

  “There is no better time,” Elizabeth Burkhart replied. “We shall be fine.”

  Reluctantly, he left the room, feeling as if he’d just tossed a burning match into a powder keg.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lilly looked at her mother and sighed before crossing the expanse of the room and taking the seat that her husband had just vacated. “I wasn’t ready to listen to you before. But I think I am now.”

  Elizabeth uttered her own sigh. “I never meant to hurt you. Everything I’ve done has been to protect you. Sending you to your father—”

  “Let’s not call him that, shall we? We both know that he isn’t a father. Not in any sense of the word that matters.”

  “You’re right, of course. There was a reason I left you there when I did, when I knew that he wouldn’t be able to just ship you to a workhouse and wash his hands of it all. I waited until I saw his mother’s coach approaching. Whatever else can be said of her, she is dedicated to her family. All of them.”

  “And you came to Millstead Abbey School to be near me?”

  “I did. I kept track of you all along. It was just terrible luck that your fath—that William saw me that day when he brought Wilhelmina Marks to the school. Terrible, terrible luck. I was dismissed, of course. But I didn’t go far. I stayed in the village and would sometimes walk past the school hoping for a glimpse of you. It went on like that for nearly a year and then cholera struck. I was ill myself and barely survived. I went back to the school afterward and begged for word of you… but the headmaster told me you had died. That both you and your half-sister had succumbed.”

  Fury swept through her. “He lied, of course. It was right before then when Miss Euphemia Darrow came to visit the school and her friend, a young woman by the name of Gemma Atwood, who taught there. When she saw how we were treated—well, she wasn’t pleased. She marched right up to the headmaster and said she was taking us with her. That we would be attending her school from that point forward where other students and staff alike would not be permitted to, much less encouraged to, speak in such a cruel manner to innocent children.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I think I would like this Miss Darrow.”

  “Yes, I daresay you would. She was very kind to me, and to Wilhelmina. To everyone, in truth, until they give her a reason not to be. I haven’t suffered terribly in my life. I don’t wish you to think that I have. It’s been rather ordinary, to be perfectly frank. Willa and I were close and we had friends at the Darrow School. As we’ve grown up, Effie shifted from being mentor and master to being a friend instead. But just because it wasn’t terrible doesn’t mean it wasn’t lonely. I have felt, very acutely, the lack of connection. Of family. I think more so since Willa married because it left me wondering about my place in the world.”

  “Well, of course, it did. For the longest time, it’s been just the two of you, hasn’t it?”

  Lilly smiled sadly at that. “It certainly seemed so at times. I don’t mean to be cruel, but I don’t need a mother anymore. I needed you years ago, when children called me names, when boys teased me and said awful things about what I’d grow up to be.”

  “We always need our mothers… but the way we need them changes over time,” Elizabeth said. “I don’t expect to simply act as if we’ve never parted. All I want is a chance to see you safe and happy. And perhaps, if at all possible, to get to know you and for you to come to know me, as well.”

  Lilly considered it for a moment. Part of her wanted to say no, to run from the room and let her anger and fear control her. But another part of her, the part of her that had learned so very much from watching Effie Darrow and the way she maneuvered through the world, demanded more of herself than that. “We can certainly try, I think. I should leave you to rest. No doubt, the doctor instructed just that.”

  “Of course, he did. That’s all they ever say. Rest. You’ve lost a limb, you must rest. You’ve had a child, you must rest. You’ve eaten bad pudding, you must rest!” Elizabeth groused. “Worthless men!”

  “Men or doctors?”

  “Both, in most cases,” she said. “Though I do think I rather like your
husband. Viscount Seaburn seems to be cut from a very different cloth than most… and he is entirely taken with you.”

  Lilly blushed with pleasure and with the undeniable wish for it to be true. “He and I have an arrangement.”

  “My dear, you have much more than an arrangement. He cares for you… far more deeply than either of you realize, I think.”

  “I will check on you later,” Lilly said and rose, heading for the door. As she reached it, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Why do you think he cares so much?”

  “It’s quite obvious really. The way that he looks at you, the fact that he risked life and limb without even a thought to his own safety when he knew you to be in danger… my dear, you matter to him. Not only your safety but also your happiness.”

  Lilly nodded and then let herself out of the room. She was deep in thought as she made her way back to the chamber she and her husband shared. As she entered, she could hear him in the bedchamber beyond the sitting room speaking softly. It sounded very much like another person was in there weeping.

  Opening the door, she entered to find Val standing shame faced before his valet who was eyeing the boots her husband had worn that morning and sobbing copiously.

  “For God’s sake, pull yourself together, man. It’s only a pair of boots.”

  “No, my lord. It isn’t just a pair of boots. These are Hessians made by Hoby himself… Wellington’s own bootmaker, my lord,” the valet said, as if he were holding a holy relic.

  Oh, this was not good, Lilly realized. The man was on the verge of handing in his resignation.

  “It was terribly thoughtless of him to scuff them so badly,” she offered. “I know you’ve worked so very hard on seeing to it that he is turned out as a gentleman should be.”

  The little valet puffed out his chest. “Indeed, your ladyship. I have worked at it tirelessly and without complaint.”

  Val coughed and Lilly shot him a warning glare before she continued. “Go downstairs, have cook get you a nice spot of bracing tea… you can tell her to add a touch of brandy to it on my orders. And perhaps some of her lovely teacakes. Take yourself a nice rest and then you may see about repairing the damage. If they cannot be repaired, then we will have them replaced and see that they are properly disposed of.”

  The valet sniffed and gave a nod. “Thank you, my lady. You are so very, very kind.”

  When the man had gone, she wheeled on her husband. “Do not be unkind to him!”

  “Unkind to him? The man falls to pieces at the slightest thing! If I scuff a boot, he’s in tears, if I tear a shirt, he’s worrying about it incessantly. He clenches his fists while I tie my cravat because he thinks the knot lacks appropriate sophistication,” Val said, clearly exasperated.

  “He takes pride in his work. His job, and any future employment that he might ever obtain should you decide to throw him off, is dependent upon how others see you. You don’t know what it’s like, Val, to be a servant. To have so little and to know how capriciously it can be taken away,” she admonished softly.

  *

  Val said nothing for the longest time, just let the softly uttered scold ruminate for a moment or two. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?” she asked, as she moved to the small dressing table that had been arranged for her.

  Val watched as she removed the pins from her hair, letting the abundance of dark waves down. The style had not survived the runaway carriage intact, but the tumbled appearance of it had appealed to him. Of course, so did watching her drag the silver-backed brush through the lustrous mass of it.

  “Make me stop behaving like a selfish braying ass with a softly spoken word or two,” he replied.

  She didn’t smile, but her lips did turn up ever so slightly as she tried to keep from it. “Is that what you were doing?”

  “We both know it was. In truth, I’d never thought about what my appearance means to him… only what it means to me. And in the future, I shall endeavor to do better.”

  She let out a sigh and placed the brush back on the table. “I’m certainly glad you’ve seen reason. I don’t think I have it in me to be at odds with anyone else today.”

  “And are you still at odds with my grandmother?” he asked.

  “Not entirely,” she answered. “We have reached a truce, however.”

  Val nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed. He made no effort to hide how intently he watched every move she made. In fact, he didn’t think he was capable of such artifice in the face of what seemed to be his complete and utter infatuation with her.

  “What?” she demanded, eyeing him in the mirror.

  “I enjoy watching you,” he admitted. Of course, if he were entirely honest, he would admit that he would enjoy touching her much more. “It’s been a trying day. No one would question it if you were to spend the remainder of the afternoon in bed.”

  “I’m not so fragile that every little occurrence must send me seeking my bed to rest and recuperate,” she admonished.

  “I said no one would question it, Lilly. I never said you’d be resting… or that you’d be alone,” he replied.

  Her lips parted in surprise and he could see the blush stealing over her cheeks.

  “Oh,” she said.

  Pressing his advantage, Val rose and walked toward her. Pushing her hair aside, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the delicate skin of her neck. “Unless, of course, you have a better idea for how we ought to spend the afternoon?”

  She let out a soft sigh. “I really can’t think of one.”

  “Then come to bed and let me convince you properly.”

  “There is nothing proper about the manner in which you would do so,” she replied.

  “I should certainly hope not,” he said, as he wound the ties of her morning dress about his fingers and tugged. When they pulled free, the dress sagged from her shoulders, dipping low to reveal the lace edged straps of her chemise and the top of her stays.

  Lilly rose then, the gown falling to the floor as she turned to face him. “I don’t want to think about anything else… not about your family or about my own.”

  Val pulled her against him, dropping his head until his lips brushed against hers. “Then I will endeavor to make you forget everything except what passes between us.” With that, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Val dressed, his movements quiet but not furtive. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to sneak away while she slept, but that he felt she needed the rest. Regardless of her protestations to the contrary and the fact that he thought her anything but fragile, she’d had more than one shock and far more turmoil than any one person should have to endure in a very short number of days. To that end, as he opened the door and stepped into the corridor, he closed the door as softly as possible and made for the stairs.

  As he neared the foot of the stairs, his grandmother appeared in the doorway of the drawing room. “Where are you off to?” she demanded imperiously.

  “To see someone who might be able to put an end to this business with Elsworth and Marchebanks.”

  She nodded. “So we’ll be ruined tomorrow.”

  “We were ruined already, only no one else knew it.”

  She sighed heavily. “I would have liked to have an opportunity to introduce Lillian to society before it all went to pieces.”

  “You mean you wanted to set them all on their ears,” he scolded. “You’re as rebellious as I ever was.”

  “That, too… but not entirely. I would have liked to see her conquer them all. Wouldn’t you?”

  “She wouldn’t have. And not because she lacks the poise, charm, beauty or intelligence to do so, but because some people are so blinded and so bound by their prejudice, it wouldn’t matter who or what she is… only the manner of her birth,” he pointed out. “Besides, she doesn’t care for that sort. Nor should she. She’s worth ten of any one of them.”

  The old woman eyed him speculatively. �
�Well, I see you’ve done it.”

  “Done what?” he asked.

  She cackled. “Why, you’ve fallen head over heels in love with her, you dolt!”

  A denial sprang hot and quick to his lips. But he stopped himself before uttering it aloud. It had been automatic, to deny it, to pretend he was unaffected by her, unchanged by the vows they had made. But he wasn’t. So instead, he said to his grandmother, “There are worse fates than to love one’s wife,” he said.

  “So there are,” she replied. “Go and see if your worthless cousin can be saved.”

  “It’s not too late to ship him to Jamaica, you know.”

  “It is,” she said. “He transgressed not only against his family, but against his countrymen and his king. For that, he must pay the consequences.”

  Val nodded, paused briefly to press a kiss to her weathered cheek and then left the house. He made his way toward the waiting carriage at the end of the street. It was unmarked, but Highcliff was inside. He’d sent word to Val earlier, heavily coded, that relayed everything he had learned and arranging their current rendezvous point.

  “You’re looking shockingly pleased with yourself,” Highcliff noted.

  “We have the identities of all the parties involved, the Hound has found the name of the ship and will intercede there. All that’s left is for the guilty parties to be apprehended,” Val stated.

  Highcliff laughed. “And no doubt that accounts for your very satisfied expression. You may lie to others, Seaburn, but you cannot lie to me. You are a man growing all too satisfied with his married state.”

  “A fact I do not deny… but it hardly warrants conversation at this point. Have you got eyes on the warehouse?”

  “I do. I’ve got a bevy of men surrounding it, as we speak. Last word arrived half-past the hour… they’re all in place.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Val demanded.

  Highcliff sighed. “You’re certain? If we take them into custody while Elsworth is present, there’s no getting out of it for the lot of you.”