The Elusive Earl (Saints & Scoundrels)

by Michaels, Maddison

  Then when they had insisted she choose, or they would fight to the death… Well, that was a decision she would not be party to, so she had grabbed Milly’s hand and dragged her to the sanctuary of the powder room.

  The two men had followed, of course, but thankfully had the manners to stay out in the corridor. Which was where they were now waiting, like two vultures circling above. Blasted men! Honestly, she could do without the lot of them. And unfortunately, there was only one doorway into and out of the powder room.

  Knowing they were ready to pounce on her the moment she left only solidified her determination to do what she was about to. She was certainly not going to be subjected to their never-ending amorous declarations, with the blackguards refusing to listen to a word she said and daring to issue her such an ultimatum.

  No, thank you very much.

  She needed to escape, and she needed to escape now, before they hurt each other—or some innocent bystander.

  Her eyes traveled the length of the room, and she noted that there were only a handful of ladies adjusting their hair and garments in front of the mirrors set up at the other end.

  “When they go”—Brianna gestured toward the other women—“I’ll climb down.” She glanced over her shoulder, back out the window. “The trellis appears strong enough to support me.”

  “You’ll break your neck climbing in that dress,” Milly warned. “Why do you take such risks? Honestly, Bree, it is the height of stupidity to do such a thing.” Though there was censure in her voice, the concern shining through her hazel eyes was readily visible.

  Bree reached out to Milly and gently squeezed the girl’s shoulders. She did hate to worry her cousin, which was unfortunately something she seemed to do somewhat frequently. But she knew she would be fine, particularly after all of the climbing experience she’d had over the years. One didn’t travel to Egypt hunting for relics without having to ascend a great many structures. “It’s only one floor down, dear cousin. I’ve traversed grander heights than this before and in many more petticoats than what I am wearing beneath this dress.”

  The concern gave way to anger as Milly placed her hands on her hips. “Oh you are incorrigible, Brianna Elizabeta Maria! One can never talk any sense into you! I don’t know why I even bother trying to do so.”

  Brianna bit her bottom lip, attempting to hide her smile, for she knew that whenever Milly called her by her full name, her cousin was well and truly upset. “I shall be fine.” And she would, for this was not the first trellis she’d climbed down from.

  “And how will you get back to our lodgings at Lord Travelli’s townhouse?” Milly asked, complete exasperation on her delicate features.

  “I shall wait in the gardens at the front of the residence, and you can tell Aunt Edith that I’m feeling unwell and need to leave.” Bree saw the other women in the room were preparing to return to the ball. “Then she can have the carriage brought around, and when you two leave, I will join you, and we can go home.”

  “Have it all thought out, don’t you?” Milly suddenly sounded entirely too smug.

  Bree hefted her sapphire blue skirt up as the door closed behind the now-departed ladies. “It is fairly straightforward.” She swung one stocking-clad leg up and over the window railing and then the other. “Just don’t tell Aunt Edith about how I got down to the gardens, and all will be fine.”

  “Except the part about the carriage.”

  “What about the carriage?” Bree asked distractedly as she twisted her body around until her waist was perched across the window ledge and she was facing back into the room.

  “A short while ago, Mother lent it out to Mrs. Marconi, who came down with a headache. It has only just left to take her home to the other side of the city and shan’t return for at least an hour.”

  “Drat it.” Bree frowned. “Still, I would rather wait in the gardens than have to deal with those two buffoons.”

  “How your poor fiancés would be wounded to hear you speak of them so,” Milly pertly replied.

  “They wouldn’t understand a word I just said.” Brianna looked at Milly, who wore an expression that could only be described as doubtful. An expression Bree was rather used to seeing from her infinitely sensible younger cousin. “Or, at least, they wouldn’t hear it, as they are apparently deafened by their own sense of self-importance. But truly, I cannot stand to spend another moment with those two. Surely you understand?”

  “Yes, it must be horrible to have two handsome, eligible men chasing after you.”

  Brianna quirked an eyebrow. “Would you really want those two hounding you, especially now that they’ve threatened a death match?”

  Milly’s expression softened. “No, probably not.”

  “Please Milly, will you help me?”

  Her cousin exhaled a long, drawn-out breath before she smoothed down the heavy, ruby red skirt of her gown. “Oh very well, if I must.”

  Brianna grinned at her. “Excellent. I shall keep an eye out for you. As soon as the carriage returns, come and get me.”

  Milly reluctantly inclined her head in agreement. “But do stay hidden, so your reputation doesn’t get ruined.”

  Voices sounded behind the closed door.

  “Oh my goodness, more ladies are about to enter,” Milly whispered. “What shall I do?”

  “Close the blinds, quickly,” Bree ordered.

  Milly nodded so fast, some of her stray blonde curls, which had escaped their pins, bounced up and down. She reached up and grabbed the drapes.

  Bree breathed a sigh of relief as the material closed over the window’s opening. She was now hidden from prying eyes. Slowly, she found a foothold on the trellis and began her descent. Finally, she would have some peace.

  “Reckless as always, Miss Penderley,” a deep voice drawled from below.

  Chapter Three

  Cosenza, Italy

  “Your highness?” a voice interrupted from the doorway.

  Prince Alberto continued trimming some of the foliage off the flowers in the greenhouse, a hobby that had found him peace many times in the past. “Yes, Alessandro, what is it?” he asked the captain of his guard, without lifting his eyes from his task.

  “I have received information that the Garendetta have sent a message to their comrades in Naples.”

  Prince Alberto stopped his clipping and raised his gaze up to Alessandro, a sense of weariness washing over him—likely at having to still make so many important decisions for his country. Alessandro stood to attention beside the door, his uniform pristine and precise as usual. “And why would this concern me, Alessandro?”

  “They are searching for some journals that apparently contain the hidden location to King Aleric’s treasure.”

  The Prince shrugged and returned to his pruning. “It worries me little. Many, including mafia societies like the Garendetta, have claimed to know the location, but none have found it yet.”

  Alessandro’s boots clipped loudly on the stone floor as he walked across to stand beside the Prince. The man lowered his voice and whispered in the Prince’s ear. “But these journals are rumored to have belonged to the late Principessa, your highness.”

  Alberto’s hand tightened around the handle of the shears, pain shooting through the aged joints of his knuckles. He looked up into the man’s inscrutable features. “My Isabella’s?”

  The captain gave a curt nod.

  Lightheaded, the Prince leaned against the bench where his potted peonies stood. “You must retrieve those journals, Alessandro,” he urged, his voice sounding feeble, even to his own ears. “You know what is at stake.”

  “There is more, though, my Prince.”

  “Do not keep me in suspense, Alessandro,” the Prince urged. “Tell me.”

  “The current owner is a Miss Brianna Penderley.”

  “But my daughter’s child was named that.” Alberto’s knees began to give way.

  The captain grabbed him and helped him over to the garden seat. “Shall I call for your
doctor, my liege?”

  The Prince shook his head. “Are you saying my granddaughter is actually alive?”

  The captain’s gray eyes clouded over. “I’m not certain.”

  “I was told the child died at the same time as my Isabella and her husband, all those years ago… If that is not true…” Alberto gripped the man’s hand hard, using the little strength his tired body allowed. “We must find out before it is too late.”

  “I have already sent a message to a friend of mine in Naples to retrieve the journals and make enquiries regarding the veracity of the information regarding Miss Penderley.”

  “Can he be trusted?”

  “Yes,” Alessandro replied, “However, I will also take some of my men and ride there immediately. If the information is true, we must obtain the journals and retrieve the Principessa.”

  “You must, Alessandro,” the Prince urged him. “If my granddaughter is alive, she is in grave danger.”

  “I will not fail you, my Prince.”

  …

  Naples, Italy—The Duke of Salerno’s Estate

  Brianna gasped and gripped ahold of the wood trellis tightly. She would recognize that condescendingly masculine voice anywhere. The night was especially clear, with the full moonlight shining brightly above, but even if it had been cloudy, there could be no mistaking that the great, hulking shadow standing below was Daniel Wolcott, the Earl of Thornton. The only man who could infuriate her simply with an imperious glance from his emerald eyes. “How did you know to find me here?” He always seemed to have an uncanny sense of where to locate her. It was, more often than not, extremely vexing. Especially when she didn’t want to be found.

  She heard his long, drawn-out sigh as he motioned over his shoulder to the lengthy drive edging the grounds of the estate. “It’s rather difficult to miss a lady climbing out of a window when alighting from one’s carriage, considering the well-lit area surrounding her.”

  Good gracious, she hadn’t thought about that. Hopefully, no one else had seen her rather ungracious exit. Not that they’d be able to tell who she was from the rear. “But how did you know it was me?” She continued to slowly edge her way down.

  He actually snorted. “What other woman would climb out of a window in a ball gown? You’re the only one I know to be so reckless and foolhardy. Of course I knew it would be you. Which was why I made my way here instead of to the entrance.”

  Well, he did have a point. Though she wouldn’t necessarily have used those exact words to describe her actions. She did, after all, have a very good reason to be out here, clinging to the trellis. At least, it had seemed like it at the time. Still, none of that explained why Daniel Wolcott was here in Italy. She paused in her descent and looked down at him. “Well, what in the name of the good Lord are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I rather thought it obvious.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Rescuing you, of course.”

  “You arrogant man! I don’t need rescui—” Brianna realized slightly too late that she should not have tried to enforce her words by pointing a finger at him whilst half turning to face him. The man had the effect of making her lose all reason and calm, even making her forget her precarious position.

  Her eyes widened as she lost her balance and began to topple backwards.

  “Oh, for goodness sake.” Daniel’s curses reached her ears.

  Bree felt herself begin to fall, then go weightless for a moment before she slammed into what felt like solid rock and tumbled into the bushes. A second later, as she lay winded, the rock moved beneath her, and she realized belatedly that the blasted man had caught her and broken her fall.

  Rolling off him, she scrambled to her feet, chagrined to find she was shaking slightly. She took in some hasty breaths. Daniel still lay in the shrubbery, flat on his back.

  The curses he was muttering assured her he was alive and his usual cantankerous self. Not that she should care, but her dear friend Sophie would be devastated if her lug of a brother were hurt.

  He slowly rose and took in a deep lungful of air, too. Then he scowled, something he always seemed to do whenever she was near.

  Honestly, the man needed to learn to laugh and enjoy life. Being stern so often could not be good for his constitution.

  “What were you doing climbing down the damn side of a villa?” he said, his voice getting progressively louder with each word. “I only arrive in Naples this morning, and already you’re up to even more mischief!”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, stop treating me like a child.” Brianna began to dust her dress off. “And do lower your voice. Really, you’re acting as if this is the first time you’ve seen me climbing down a wall.”

  Daniel swore again as he, too, began to knock dirt from his trousers. “You were twelve the last time I saw you do such a thing, and you weren’t bloody wearing a dress with a crinoline! No wonder you fell, you damn foolish woman.”

  Brianna felt her chest rise as a fiery heat consumed her. The man vexed her as none other could. She stood tall and planted her hands on her hips. “I would not have fallen, if you had not distracted me! A true gentleman would have made no comments on my obvious predicament and let me safely descend before speaking.”

  “A true lady would never climb down a wall.”

  Bree gritted her jaw and plastered a tight smile on her face. “Well, a ‘half-Italian, English hoyden’ such as myself cannot very well be expected to act like a true lady.”

  “I must have called you that over five years ago. Clearly, it rankled for you to remember it.” A smug look graced his handsome face.

  She felt like stomping her foot or, better yet, kicking him in the shin and wiping away that superior expression. Rather unfortunate she was no longer twelve and able to get away with such things.

  “Oh was it you who called me that?” She feigned a yawn. “I rarely recall anything you say to me, as it is usually so very boring.”

  A sense of satisfaction filled her as his jaw began to clench, his smugness all but vanishing in an instant.

  “Boring?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft. “You think what I say is boring?”

  She shrugged. “Lectures from those who think themselves superior are always boring. Now, if you will excuse me, Your Lordyness.” Oh how she loved to call him by that childhood nickname. “I have had my fill of your pompous sermon, with no wish to be subjected to it any longer.” She curtsied to him, and not just any curtsey, but one reserved for greeting the queen, ensuring she bent very low—almost, but not quite to a kneel—before rising and then turning on her heel.

  His arm snaked out and grabbed her by the elbow. “Oh no you don’t, princess,” he growled softly.

  She turned to him, a serene smile on her face, refusing to let him see how she loathed his derogatory nickname for her. Even if she had been the one to insist he call her that in the first place… Well, she had only been ten at the time, and he had interrupted her and Sophie’s game of pretending to be royals, so of course she’d demanded he call her princess. But the darn man had continued doing so ever since.

  Looking up at him, she realized with a start she’d forgotten just how captivating his eyes were. Even in the moonlight, they shone as bright as jade. And he towered over her, at least a good seven inches taller than her five-foot-nine frame. “You do realize,” she began, “that I have a fiancé in the ballroom who would take great exception to you man-handling me?” She looked pointedly down at his fingers still clutching her arm.

  He let go of her like his hand was on fire. “Both of your fiancés are the very reason I’m bloody well here.”

  She should have known the man would be perfectly aware of that irksome fact. “Feel free to leave. I have the situation in hand.”

  He peered up to the window she had come from and then back to her. There was an expression of disbelief plastered on his face. “Yes, clearly in hand.”

  She glowered at him. “Well, I will soon. I do not need your help.”

  “Your un
cle sent me here.”

  This time, it was Brianna who swore—albeit inside her head. She should have known. Why else would the lofty Earl of Thornton ever chase after her, unless it was at the behest of Uncle Walter? “I can handle myself. I have no need for you to waltz in and play the completely reluctant savior.” Like the last time he did, at Lady Maybury’s, when an unwanted suitor had managed to corral her in the greenhouse. Really though, she could have extracted herself perfectly well from the situation, but Daniel had had to barrel in and toss the man onto his backside for simply daring to steal a kiss from her. Annoying, as she’d been just about to stomp on the fiend’s foot and elbow him in the ribs for trying to take such liberties.

  Daniel rolled his eyes. “Only you could get yourself into the ludicrous situation of being engaged to two men at the same time. How did it come to pass?”

  She crossed her hands over her chest. “I didn’t actually know they were proposing.”

  “How could you not?”

  “Quite easily, as I do not speak Italian,” she reminded him. “I thought both of them were asking me to dance. I mean, really, who asks someone for their hand in marriage after only meeting them the night before? It makes little sense.”

  “In your world, princess, it makes perfect sense.”

  Did the man dare to presume he knew what went on in her own head? Honestly, his arrogance was astounding. “I shall take that as a compliment instead of the derogatory remark I’m certain it was intended as. Now, if you will excuse me, I mus—”

  Oomph. With no warning, the blasted man picked her up and tossed her onto his shoulder like a sack of turnips.

  He strode through the gardens toward the front of the house.

  She pummeled his back. “Let me go, you fiend! I shall scream if you do not.”

  “Be my guest,” he replied.

  “Ooh!” He knew perfectly well she wouldn’t dare to be caught in such an undignified position. “Where are you taking me, then?”