Regency for all Seasons: A Regency Romance Collection

by Mary Lancaster

  “It doesn’t matter,” Val said. “It has to happen this way. We can’t risk Marchebanks, either of them, getting away.”

  “Then let’s get it over with,” Highcliff said as he tapped on the roof of the coach and it lurched forward.

  *

  Lilly reached out, but her hand encountered nothing but cool sheets. Clearly, he had been up for some time. Opening her eyes, she peered about the room and found it as empty as the bed beside her. Getting up, she moved toward her dressing table and quickly dragged a brush through her hair.

  “Resting. Spending the day in bed,” she muttered under her breath. “And all the while, he’s plotting and planning to do something reckless and dangerous, no doubt.”

  Fashioning her hair into a braid, she hastily pinned it up and then dressed in one of the cast-off wool dresses that the dowager duchess had previously insisted she wear. Clad in the shapeless and rather hideous garment, she retrieved an equally unflattering pelisse from the wardrobe, along with an ugly bonnet. Suitably armored, she made her way down the hall to her mother’s room.

  Knocking briefly, she entered even as the welcome was being called out.

  The woman on the bed gaped at her. “What in heaven’s name are you wearing?”

  “Something that will hopefully allow me to blend into the shadows. Are you up for an outing?” Lilly asked.

  Immediately, Elizabeth pushed back the covers and rose. “Help me dress… and while you’re at it, tell me what sort of madness we’re about to get ourselves into.”

  “Val has left… and no doubt, he and Lord Highcliff are going to face off against Lord Marchebanks, your aunt, and his cousin.”

  “Are we stopping them or helping them?” Elizabeth asked.

  Lilly considered her answer for a moment. “A bit of both, I think. Elsworth is an idiot. And a bully. And a complete snob. But what he does reflects on everyone in this house… Val, the dowager duchess.”

  “And your future children,” Elizabeth surmised.

  Lilly nodded. “He doesn’t understand what it’s like… to spend your life paying for the sins of those who came before you. If I can spare our children that, I would.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “You’re not—”

  “We’ve been married less than a week!” Lilly said, scandalized.

  “And marriage is not necessarily a requirement,” Elizabeth said pointedly.

  Lilly blushed. “Duly noted. Regardless, he thinks he’s being noble by letting Elsworth face the consequences of his actions… and while that isn’t necessarily untrue, you and I both know that the consequences will be borne by every member of this family. I cannot let him do this.”

  Elizabeth nodded as she donned her own pelisse over her hastily-fastened gown. “Let us hope that we are in time to stop him. Luckily, I think I know where they have likely headed.”

  Leaving the guest chamber, they made their way downstairs and found the dowager duchess waiting for them.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To stop Val from making a terrible mistake,” Lilly said. “Please don’t try to stop us.”

  The old woman eyed her speculatively for a moment, before turning to the butler. “Find the pistol muffs. They can’t go out unarmed. I assume you know how to use them?”

  “I do,” Elizabeth said.

  “Have the carriage readied… the older one without the crest,” the dowager duchess added. “No need in announcing that reinforcements on their way, after all, is there? In these circumstances, I suppose it rather defeats the purpose to announce the presence of the Somers family. Are you certain this is for the best?”

  “As certain as possible,” Lilly replied and stepped away to follow the butler into the study to retrieve the guns. It was as she had stepped back into the foyer that she heard the exchange had continued between the dowager duchess and her mother.

  “With all due respect, your grace,” Elizabeth answered, “you don’t know what it’s like to live in disgrace. I’d spare all of you that if I could, and my future grandchildren.”

  The dowager duchess nodded again. “I defer to your judgment on the matter. Be careful. Anything happens to that girl and Val will see all of our heads roll. He loves her, you know?”

  Surely she had misheard. Stepping forward, she saw the challenge in the dowager duchess’ gaze. To the old woman, she said, “There are some conversations that should be left to my husband and me without your meddling.”

  The older woman nodded. “Well enough then. Go get him and have that conversation… as soon as it’s safe to do so, of course.”

  “Naturally,” Lilly said. With her mother beside her, they headed out toward the carriage that was just being brought around from the mews. “Where are we headed?”

  “Whitechapel,” Elizabeth said. “Stay close to me and keep your head down. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself in a place like that.”

  Lilly shuddered. No. She certainly did not. “Then let’s go save my husband from his too-noble self.”

  “You belong here,” Elizabeth said as they settled into the carriage. “In Mayfair. It seems as if you were born to this world.”

  “That was Effie,” Lilly said. “She drilled etiquette and deportment into us until there was no room left for our hoydenish tendencies… well, for my hoydenish tendencies. Willa never had those. She was always proper. Always well-behaved. I was the problem child.”

  “I don’t think you were,” Elizabeth said. “I think perhaps you were the troubled child. And it’s my fault.”

  Lilly considered that. “I was, I suppose. But I don’t think you were at fault. I think, despite my earlier behavior, that you did the best you could under the circumstances. If there was any doubt that Marchebanks was deadly… well, Mr. Littleton would have put that to rest.”

  “Mr. Littleton?”

  “The solicitor that was handling the false bequest from the Dowager Duchess of Templeton which was supposed to have come from your aunt,” Lilly replied. “They killed him. He was a kind man, or so it seemed.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “Mr. Littleton had been my father’s solicitor before—well, before. I don’t even know if he’s still alive, my father.”

  “He is,” Lilly answered. “I saw him from a distance in the park. We didn’t speak, but he looked at me. Or through me. Once all this is settled, we’ll get things sorted out. But you needn’t speak to anyone in your family if you don’t wish to. They certainly did nothing to earn your forgiveness.”

  “And I’ve done nothing to earn yours,” Elizabeth replied.

  Lilly sighed. “The truth helps. And you’ve given me that.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Let’s go get your husband before he destroys himself socially.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Val crouched in the shadows behind a stack of crates and barrels. They had not been in the warehouse on his last visit. Everything had been prepared to load the ship docked at St. Katherine’s. On the one hand, they had much less time to avert disaster, on the other, it at least provided cover and allowed them to get close enough to listen to the conversation between the three key players.

  “Why can’t we just send the shipment on to India as planned?” Elsworth demanded.

  “Because we don’t have enough of the goods in question,” Marchebanks snapped. “And I’ve already collected payment from both buyers! Don’t lose your nerve on me now, Somers… or I’ll find someone else to take your place!”

  “If you could find someone else, you would have already,” Elsworth shot back. “It’s become quite clear to me, Marchebanks, that you’ve burned more bridges than you’ve built!”

  A movement above him caught Val’s eye. He glanced up to see a number of men moving into position from the rafters. One of them nearly slipped, catching himself in the nick of time before disappearing once more into the shadows. Still, the noise was distracting enough. As he looked on, a shower of dust drifted from those same rafters to settle on the f
loor near him. Cursing under his breath, he drew back, hoping no one had spotted him or the telltale signs that the warehouse was playing host to more than treasonous plots and the normal sort of dockside vermin.

  From across the way, hidden in his own bower of crates and boxes, he saw Highcliff draw a weapon from the pocket of his coat. A sense of foreboding had settled over Val. It wasn’t the first dangerous situation they’d found themselves in, and while he wanted it to be the last, he was hoping more for retirement than for a permanent sort of end.

  “What’s that?” Marchebanks said. “What have you done, Somers?”

  “I’ve done nothing,” Elsworth denied. “It’s likely a damned rat. They’re the size of small dogs in here.”

  “It had better not be that blasted cousin of yours. If he’s followed you again… well, we wouldn’t even have to question it if you’d managed to distract him with widowhood as we’d demanded,” the woman beside them snapped.

  “You think I don’t know what you’re about? I figured out who she is… who she is to both of you. And while I was in Mr. Littleton’s office, after your minions had already been there,” Elsworth snapped at her, “I found the truth of it. She’s a bloody heiress!”

  “That paltry sum your grandmother settled on her through my goodwill hardly signifies,” the woman said.

  “Paltry? Is that why you had the man killed?” Elsworth challenged.

  “I had him killed,” Marchebanks said, “because he knew more about our endeavors than was good for any of us! Now, there’s the matter of the money you owe us, Elsworth. If you expect to profit from this endeavor, you’re going to need to find some way to earn your keep as you clearly won’t be getting the family fortune.”

  Val relaxed perceptibly. Whether Elsworth knew of his presence or not, his cousin had offered enough distraction to keep either Marchebanks or his vicious lover from investigating the disturbance.

  “Well, my prospects have changed,” Elsworth said. “And I find that I’ve developed a distaste for your business practices. You’ll simply have to find someone else to buy in. I no longer want any part of it.”

  “You came here without the money?” the woman demanded.

  “There’s no money for me to give you,” Elsworth told her. “You’ll have to pay the captain on your own.”

  Val cursed again. The fool would get himself killed. Another glance at Highcliff and the other man’s grim expression confirmed it. If Elsworth didn’t stop talking, they’d put a pistol ball in his brain or a knife in his ribs as sure as the world.

  “You forget yourself, Somers,” the woman said, her tone deceptively dulcet. “You do not make the decisions here. I do. If you can’t pay for your part, as promised, then we’ve no reason to keep you around. Especially as your loyalty has now come into question.”

  They were out of time. Val rose from his crouch, pistol drawn, and moved toward the trio. “Stop. He’s an idiot, but he’s still family. I won’t let you shoot him.”

  The woman laughed. “And how do you mean to stop me? You’re one man, with one pistol, Viscount Seaburn. We have you outnumbered.”

  At that moment, Highcliff rose from his own hiding place, a pistol in each hand. “I think you should count again, Lady Marchebanks.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded with a sneer.

  “Did you get what you needed?” Elsworth asked. But the question wasn’t directed at Val. It was directed to Highcliff.

  “I did, Somers. Thank you for all your efforts on our behalf. I thank you, and the Crown thanks you, as well.”

  Val glanced at Highcliff. But if the man was putting on, he was doing so for everyone present and not just him. Had Elsworth been working for him all along? No, he most assuredly hadn’t. But Highcliff was offering them all an out. By claiming Elsworth was one of his agents, undercover, then the lot of them could save face.

  Highcliff sauntered toward them, at ease with the weapons he brandished and dressed far more functionally than was typical of him. Wearing black from head to toe, he looked more brigand that dandy.

  “Highcliff? What is the meaning of this?” Margaret Hazleton demanded. “I’ll not be waylaid by some popinjay!”

  Highcliff arched one eyebrow. “It would be the first time in your life, Madam, that you declined to be laid by any man as far as I know.”

  A few other men drifted forward from the shadows then, runners from the looks of them. Highcliff gestured toward Lord Marchebanks and his aunt-by-marriage. “Take the two of them into custody.”

  “And that fellow, my lord?” one of the runners asked, gesturing toward Elsworth.

  “Mr. Somers fell in with this pair under false pretenses, but once he learned of their schemes, he brought it straight to the attention of the Crown,” Highcliff lied. “As his assistance in this matter has been beyond valuable, I will hardly hold him accountable for his naivete.”

  “Aye, my lord,” the runner said and began hauling Marchebanks toward a waiting carriage.

  Lady Marchebanks was having none of it, however. Rather than dropping her weapon, she lifted it higher and trained it directly on Elsworth. “You did this!”

  “Drop it,” Val said. “I don’t want to shoot a woman, but I will.”

  She drew back the hammer, but before she could pull the trigger, another shot rang out. Lady Marchebanks let out a shout as she dropped to the ground, clutching her arm.

  Turning in the direction the shot had come from, Val saw Elizabeth Burkhart standing at the open doorway of the building, a still-smoking pistol in her hand. Lilly stood beside her.

  “I felt no such compunction to offer her mercy based on something as arbitrary as her sex,” Miss Burkhart said.

  “You!” Lady Marchebanks said. “You were supposed to have died years ago!”

  “I did, for all intents and purposes,” Elizabeth stated. “I left my daughter on the doorstep of a man I detested and I faked my own death to get away from you and your nephew—the man who has been your lover since long before your poor, stupid husband ever shuffled off the mortal coil.”

  Elsworth, weak-kneed after having faced what surely must have seemed certain death, sank to his knees. Highcliff approached him and squatted down. Val, still standing near enough to hear what was being said, listened intently.

  “You’ve been given a second chance, puppy,” Highcliff said. “My advice to you would be to lay low until this business is settled. And the moment it’s done, you will be on the first ship bound for Jamaica and whatever property your grandmother bestows upon you to run. Whether you succeed or fail then will be entirely upon your own head.”

  Feeling that Highcliff had it in hand, Val closed the distance between himself and Lilly. “What the devil are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “We came to stop you from letting Elsworth sink the family’s name,” Lilly admitted. “I should have known Highcliff would have it in hand.”

  “I had it in hand,” he insisted.

  “No,” Lilly replied sharply. “You didn’t. You were determined to be noble and let him meet his fate! But did you ever stop to think what that would do to us? To any children we might have? Do you really want to have sons that grow up knowing their name, their blood, is shared with a traitor?”

  “They’re connected to us either way… whether by my blood or yours,” Val pointed out reasonably.

  “No one knows who I am, Val. No one knows who my mother is or was.”

  “I’m perfectly content to be Anna Hartnett for the rest of my days,” Elizabeth offered. “After all, the whole world thinks Elizabeth Burkhart died more than twenty years ago. There’s no point in disabusing them of that notion.”

  “This is not the place to sort it out,” he said. “We need to get you both home and we’ll figure it out there.”

  He turned back to Highcliff who waved him on. Satisfied that the matter was in hand, he headed off with the two women. It was difficult to determine whether he was more proud of his wife or more angry
at her in that moment. Regardless, she’d put herself in a terribly dangerous situation and that would not be ignored.

  *

  They rode back to the house on Jermyn Street in silence. None of them uttered a word. By the time the carriage rolled to a halt, the tension inside it was palpable. As they disembarked and entered the house, Lilly let out a startled gasp as Elizabeth wrapped her in a fierce hug. Against her ear, her mother whispered, “Just let him shout. Men get all riled up over the idea that women need to be protected. None of them realize that we’re far more deadly and dastardly than they will ever be.”

  With those parting words of wisdom, Elizabeth headed up the stairs and left them alone. But Val didn’t drag her up the stairs to their chamber. No, he grasped her elbow and propelled her down the hall toward the study. Once inside, he slammed the door and glowered at her.

  “Everyone in this house will hear you shouting at me whether you do it down here or in our room,” Lilly pointed out logically.

  His eyebrows shot upward and a second later, he was dragging his hand through his hair in obvious exasperation as he began to pace the room. “I’m certain they will. But I’m hoping that, in here, I’ll be able to at least resist the urge to turn you over my knee and spank your perfectly-formed derriere!”

  “Is it?” she asked, settling down into one the arm chairs that flanked the desk.

  “Is what?” he snapped.

  “Is my derriere perfectly-formed?”

  He whirled on her then. “Do not try to distract me with flirtation and with—do you realize just how much danger you walked into tonight?”

  “The same amount of danger that you did when you slipped from our bed and scuttled out of this house like a thief in the night,” she replied.

  “It was afternoon,” he reasoned.

  “But you did sneak. You skulked. You lied. You tempted me into your bed and when I was sleeping afterward, you slipped out knowing full well that I would have protested you putting yourself in such a situation!”

  “I didn’t sneak,” he said. “I was discrete and chose not to disturb you as I was leaving.”