From France, with Love: League of Unweddable Gentlemen, Book 1

by Gill, Tamara

  “I’m sure they will,” Ava said. “He must enjoy inflicting such pain and suffering on others, and if I may impart an observation about his lordship.”

  Both the duke and the Runner glanced at her. “Please,” Tate said, gesturing for her to speak her mind.

  Ava cleared her throat, heat rising on her cheeks. “Mr. Shelly, I need you to know that Lord Oakes wished me to be his mistress some months ago. At the time he was courting a woman in town of substantial means and wanted to have a mistress near his country estate. I refused when I realized his intentions were not honorable.”

  “Ava, you do not need to tell…”

  “Yes, I do,” she said, interrupting Tate. “All of this needs to be known, at least to Mr. Shelly.”

  Tate sat back in his chair and Ava turned to the Runner. “It has not escaped my notice that the fires have been at properties that surround my own racing stables in Berkshire. I cannot help but think he’s targeting those closest to me, my friends and neighbors, and leaving me till last.”

  The Runner’s eyes widened with understanding and now having said her worries aloud, they did make sense. Lord Oakes had proven himself a selfish, mean human being. It would not surprise Ava if he wished to pay her back, torment her in this way before targeting her own home last.

  “He would not dare,” the duke said, murder in his tone.

  The Runner looked between them before writing something in his note pad. “Your concerns are warranted, Miss. Knight, and I shall have men stationed at your home to keep extra vigilance. Lord Oakes seems to have a sickness that is not curable,” he said, blandly. “With an illness such as this, we do not know what he plans or when.”

  Ava could well believe that. “I suppose now we must be patient and wait, although it worries me where he’ll strike next. If he’s successful in his endeavors what it will mean for those people? I know his cruel character. He is capable of inflicting pain on others and caring not at all that he has done so.”

  The Runner studied her a moment, seemingly thinking over her words. He folded his little black book closed and slipped it into his coat pocket. “There is no reason why someone will act out in such a way. Some people are inherently evil, wish to do harm to others for no other reason than it pleases them. We know Lord Oakes is in financial difficulties due to the woman he was courting having married someone else. Her father, you see, caught wind that his lordship had pockets to let and refused his suit. You turned down his advances, and those about him in Berkshire are prosperous, successful estates, nothing like his own.”

  Ava thought on the points. “And so, are you saying that you think he’s targeting these estates, these families, simply because he’s envious?”

  The Runner shrugged. “People have murdered for less. I see no reason why Lord Oakes would not seek revenge for misdeeds concocted in his own feeble mind.”

  “This is disturbing,” the duke said, thoughtfully. “I cannot deny that I shall be glad when Lord Oakes is behind bars or possibly sent to the colonies to never darken our doorsteps again.”

  “That is what we aim to do, Your Grace. It may take some time but he will make an error, they all do at some point or another and when he does, we’ll be ready.”

  Ava thought over the Runner’s words. To wait was all well and good but Lord Oakes’ desire to hurt people, his desire to see animals burn in their stables was not something she was willing to gamble with. Not something she was willing to allow Lord Oakes to do again. This time, no matter how many runners were following his lordship, they might be too late just as they had been too late to save Lord Morton’s stable lad and horses only a few weeks ago.

  “What do you think of the idea of saying something to Lord Oakes? Not that we have runners after him, simply hint that someone saw a gentleman riding off the day I was injured. Let his lordship’s mind fester with the fear that someone had recognized him. If we were to say something such as that to him, it may scare him enough to stop him from starting any more fires ever again. I know we have to sit back and wait. I understand why you would do such a thing, but we risk so much with that plan. My stables, for instance, house horses that are worth hundreds of pounds. The prized thoroughbred Titan currently resides under my stables’ roof. If we allow Lord Oakes to strike again, then we risk our livelihood, my staff and the horses’ lives. What are your thoughts on that, Mr. Shelly? Do you think such a plan is worth a try?”

  The Runner rubbed his jaw, pursing his lips in thought. “I see your dilemma and I understand the frustration behind it. We do risk a lot by waiting for him to strike again. But I think in this case we need to wait. My men have been instructed to hold off until the very last possible moment before they seize Lord Oakes, so if he does attempt to start a fire we will be there and we will stop him, but we need to catch him in the act. If he finds out that he is being watched or that you suspect him, he may bolt. The man is a coward at heart, and by running, well, we will never be able to prove his guilt if that happens.”

  Ava leaned back in her chair. She could understand his opinion but it still didn't make the prospect of letting him carry on any easier to stomach. “Very well,” she conceded. “I will not say a word.” Ava read the understanding in the duke’s warm gaze and it gave her comfort. They would catch Lord Oakes and then they would be done with him. She would be done with him forever and maybe for the first time in an age, she would be able to breathe again.

  “Very good,” the duke said, “we’re in agreement and that is settled. We will wait.”

  After discussing some miscellaneous items in relation to where the Runners will be housed between the duke and Miss. Knight’s estate, and who they were pretending to be so not to cause suspicion if Lord Oakes came upon them, the Runner bade them a good morning and left.

  The duke, after bidding the man farewell, came back into the library, shutting the door behind him. Ava stood, knowing she too should leave. Even with the maid present, she was still risking her reputation by being there.

  “I should be going too,” she said, not moving. The duke reached out and took her hand, leaning over her gloved fingers and kissing them. His touch sent a frisson of awareness through her body and she squeezed his hand a little in return.

  “Are you attending the Yorks’ ball this evening? I understand that we’re to attend with the viscountess.”

  The duke ushered her toward the door. “I’m attending now.”

  She chuckled and seeing the maid waiting patiently beside the door, she gestured for her to stand. “Until tonight then, Your Grace.” Ava stopped at the library door threshold, drinking in the duke, as much as she could. She loved being alone with him. He was never the lofty peer of the realm with her. To her, he was simply Tate.

  Whenever they were together her body never felt like her own. It shivered and craved his touch and she was powerless to stop it.

  “Oh, how lovely,” a cold, disinterested voice said from the stairs. “If it isn’t Miss. Knight. I thought my eyes were deceiving me last evening when I saw you at the Tinleys’ ball. I did not think you were invited.”

  Ava took a calming breath and turned to smile at the dowager who leisurely strolled down the staircase toward them. Behind her stood a woman of striking beauty, all ethereal elegance and goddess-like with blonde flowing locks.

  Ava curtsied and couldn’t help but glance down at her own modest morning gown which was from last year’s fashion plates. She steeled herself to ignore the word dowdy and plain that flittered through her mind whenever being around women who were fashionable, the haut ton and titled. She lifted her chin, determination straightening her spine.

  She glanced at Tate, his face an awful shade of gray. He caught her looking at him and he shut his mouth with a snap, his lips thinning into an annoyed line. Toward her or his mother, Ava was uncertain, but she certainly hoped the latter.

  “Tate, my dear, you remember Lady Clapham. She’s my new companion and will be returning to Berkshire with me next week.”

&nb
sp; The woman dipped into a neat curtsy and something akin to jealousy shot through Ava at the sight of the striking beauty. She threw the duke an amused half smile, which only made her look prettier if that was even possible. For a moment Ava stared at them all, trying to place the name of her ladyship. Where had she heard it before?

  Tate, seemingly remembering his manners, bowed slightly. “Welcome, Lady Clapham. I’m sure you will support my mother very well.”

  The dowager laughed. “Oh, indeed I do think she will.”

  Ava studied Lady Clapham and with sickening dread she remembered. She had been Tate’s mistress. “Thank you again for the meeting, Your Grace. Good morning to you all.” Ava collected her pelisse and bonnet from the footman who stood in the entrance hall, she didn’t bother pulling it on, simply walked out as soon as the servant opened the door, her maid quickly following behind.

  The way the duchess’ companion looked at the duke was predatory. Were not companions supposed to be spinsters, women shy of nature, not interested in marriage or too old to catch the eye of a man? This Lady Clapham wasn’t any of those things, but was perfect if the dowager had designs on her son keeping his distance from a woman of no rank and a businesswoman too.

  “Miss. Knight,” the duke called, coming down the front stops of his home and meeting her at the door of the carriage. “I will see you tonight, will I not?” he asked, taking her hand and helping her up the steps of the vehicle.

  She nodded, but wanting to go before he saw how jealous she was of the woman who would now live under his roof. She called out to the driver her directions.

  To think Lady Clapham would have breakfast and dinner with Tate. Spend evenings before the fire in the parlor, playing games of cards and entertaining the dowager, like a little happily married couple. “I will see you then. Good day, Your Grace.”

  She didn’t look at him as the carriage pulled away and she bit back the tears that threatened. This was why she was not made for this life. She was not a woman who played games, not like the dowager, or Lady Clapham who willingly took part in them too. This life was not who she was or wanted to be, something she needed to remember if she was to keep her head around Tate.

  Tate stood on the footpath and watched the carriage rumble down the street until it turned a corner and went out of sight. He frowned knowing full well why Ava was upset with him, or more to the point, with his mother.

  He turned on his heel and started back into his home, heading up to the first floor sitting room, where his mother had her private entertaining space. He found her with Lady Clapham, his former lover, no less, taking tea and smiling from ear to ear. No doubt their little coup that they had pulled off against Ava had gone very well.

  “What,” he said, pointing at Lady Clapham “is she doing here? And as your companion I might add. Are you mad, Mother? Should I call for the doctor and have you locked away at Bedlam before the day’s end?”

  The dowager narrowed her eyes, all amusement wiped at his words. “Lady Clapham is my companion and is dutifully keeping me company, amusing me as one’s companion should. But if she also reminds you that you have a past, one that Miss. Knight does not know about, well, all the better.” His mother picked up her tea, taking a sip. “Whatever will Miss. Knight say when I tell her that the woman who used to share your bed is now my companion?”

  Tate didn’t think his blood could boil any more fiercely than it had done when thinking about Lord Oakes, and yet, somehow his mother seemed to manage it very well. He fisted his hands at his side lest he try to strangle some sense into her. “You cannot make Lady Clapham your companion. Most of the gentlemen I know have been seeking out her attentions for months.” Her ladyship gasped at his crassness, and Tate was sorry to offend her, but his mother and her schemes would help none of them. “No matter what you believe, Mother, Lady Clapham was not my mistress, she was simply a woman who warmed my bed for a time, a mutual agreement that is now over. If you do this, you will make yourself look ridiculous.”

  “I have every intention of doing so. I am the dowager duchess of Whitstone. No-one would dare naysay me. Lady Clapham will be escorting me about Town and coming with me back to Berkshire. I, for one, am very excited about it all.” His mother smiled, and yet only cold calculation was evident in her eyes.

  “Why would you do such a thing? I always knew you were unloving, but I did not think you were so unkind to stoop to such levels. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.” Tate glared at his parent.

  His mother remained aloof and unmoved by his words. If he expected her to look even a little contrite, he was sadly mistaken. If anything she looked very well pleased with herself. “I am not, and I will not be. Lady Clapham is now working for me and we shall go about Town as much as I like. When I return to Berkshire, she too will come with me and we will make such a jolly party.”

  “You’re not to return to Cleremore. I will send notice to the servants to have your things packed and moved over to the dower house. Your time as my parent who resides under my roof is over. As for the London home, you may remain here until you have organized alternate accommodation.”

  His mother shrugged, unfazed “Do what you wish, my dear. I shall see you at luncheon.”

  Tate stormed from the room. He fisted his hands to stop their shaking and fought the urge to strike out against the potted palm that sat against the passage wall.

  Though he could not control his mother, he could control who lived in his houses. He started down the stairs. He would write to his steward at Cleremore at once, and have him pack everything up of his mother’s and have it moved. He would not risk losing Ava again, no matter what underhanded schemes his parent came up with.

  As for Lady Clapham, well he would talk to her about her conduct and what she thought she was up to, but without his mother being present. He thought he’d done the right thing by her, apparently she did not.

  He shook his head, entering his library and locking the door behind him. Why, he’d even heard that she had a new lover already.

  Tate didn’t know that her ladyship’s new patron was his mother. It wasn’t to be borne.

  Chapter 12

  Later that night, Tate stood beside his friend, Lord Duncannon, and watched as Ava danced with another gentleman of no importance. It was her fourth dance she’d had this evening, and upon his arrival not two hours before he was informed that her dance card was full and she would be unable to step out with him.

  He took a sip of his wine, wondering how to explain to her that what she’d thought she’d seen at his house this morning was nothing to do with them. He might have found Lady Clapham attractive at one time, one would have to be blind not to. But how could he tell the woman who held his heart in the palm of her hand that she was the only woman who turned his head? The only woman to capture his heart and soul.

  He’d not had a chance to talk to Lady Clapham as to why she was in cahoots with his mother, but he would. His bigger issue right now was how on earth was he to explain this situation to Ava without her being hurt by the truth.

  “How is the hunt for the fire-starter coming along, Tate? Has the Runner any leads as to who he thinks it is?” Lord Duncannon asked, sipping his wine.

  Tate turned to his friend, having forgotten for a moment that he was even standing there. Duncannon was as tall as he was, but a little less wide across the shoulders. Even so, with his cutting jaw, blond locks and zest for life, he was often a favorite among the ladies.

  “We do have a lead, and right at this moment the gentleman in question is talking to Lord York.” They both glanced across the ballroom to where his nemesis stood. Anger spiked through Tate’s blood and he restrained himself from storming across the few feet of parquetry floor that separated them to crack the bastard in the face. He watched him a moment, hating that he’d hurt Ava, terrorized and tried to rape her. Tate shook his head, thankful for Ava’s maid who’d walked in and stopped him.

  “Lord Oakes. You suspect him?” The shock in his frie
nd’s voice brought him out of his musings of how to torture the bastard if he ever had him alone.

  “The day Miss. Knight and I were shot at, although…”

  “Wait. Stop,” Duncannon said, clasping his upper arm. “You and Miss. Knight, the very woman you wanted to marry all those years ago, were shot at? How do I not know of this?”

  Tate shook his head. “Need I remind, you were not in London or England for that matter, at the time. How is Paris by the way? Still as decadent as ever and only too willing to put on a show for a wealthy viscount?”

  His friend grinned. “Of course, but never mind that,” he said, frowning. “Were either of you injured? What happened?”

  “Look for yourself,” Tate said, nodding in the direction Ava was still dancing with the Baron.

  “That is Miss. Knight?” Tate heard the appreciation in his friend’s voice and chose to ignore it. Ava was very beautiful, even if she was unaware of the fact most of the time. And beauty, both in and out, which Ava had plenty of. It was no wonder she was quite sought after at balls and parties. The ton would miss her when she returned to Berkshire, even if Tate’s mother did not.

  “It is, yes.”

  Duncannon looked at him askance. “And she’s dancing with someone else because?”

  It was a question Tate had asked himself, but after Ava’s hasty departure from his home earlier today, it wasn’t hard to work out why she was avoiding him. She was angry and possibly hurt, but such emotions led to another thought. Ava cared for him, more than a friend and that in turn gave him hope.

  “My mother has hired a new companion for herself. But the companion is Lady Clapham, a previous lover of mine.”

  “What!” The volume of Duncannon’s statement had people turn in their direction, even Ava on the dance floor glanced over, catching Tate’s eye before looking away.