Wicked

by Cheryl Holt

  He studied her face and grimaced. “I’ve upset you.”

  “I wasn’t aware that you’d been married so many times. It’s a shock to me.”

  “If I’d told you the truth, I wasn’t sure you’d have come.”

  “What became of all your wives?”

  “They died. What would you suppose?”

  “Well, of course, they died.” She was struggling for calm, for levity. “How silly of me to wonder.”

  “I’ve been blessed with longevity, Miss Ralston, and I’ve been cursed with brides who had frail constitutions. I outlived them all, so on this occasion, I’m determined to settle on someone who is healthy and strong. Miss Peabody swore you had the stamina of a plow horse.”

  “How flattering.” There was more aggravation in her tone than she’d intended.

  “Don’t mock your youth or vigor. They are precisely why I selected you. It’s too late for me to fool with weaklings or ninnies. Miss Peabody promised you would surprise me on both counts.”

  “I hope I can live up to her high opinion.”

  “I hope you can too.” He clasped her hand and patted it. “In all my marriages, I’ve only ever sired one child, and he passed away years ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “So that is why you’ve been summoned. I have no time to waste and need an heir—as quickly as it can be managed. In exchange, I will give you all this.” He gestured at the manicured grounds, the grand manor. “It’s a fair bargain, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” she hesitantly concurred, not knowing what else to say.

  “Heed me, Miss Ralston. I’m older than you and more experienced in these sorts of affairs. This is the best conclusion for you. After you’ve reflected on it, you’ll see that I’m right.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  They’d arrived at the house, at the steps that led up onto the rear verandah. It was a beautiful day in early summer, and the drawing room windows were open. Male laughter drifted out, and a merry tune was being played on the pianoforte.

  Mr. Oswald frowned and muttered, “Those scalawags. They’re home from the army and at loose ends. No doubt they’re drinking all my liquor and smoking all my cigars.”

  “Who is visiting?”

  “Two of the most disreputable scapegraces who were ever born. You’ll meet them soon enough. Unfortunately.” He guided her up the stairs. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d better chase them off.”

  Just that abruptly, he walked away, leaving her alone.

  He stomped inside. She wanted to tag along, wanted to ascertain who was home from the army, but she’d definitely been dismissed, so she didn’t dare follow.

  Yet she was dreadfully curious.

  She’d spent an hour with Mr. Oswald and hadn’t gleaned any information of value. If she’d been a weepy type, tears might have flowed. But she wasn’t weepy. Nor was she prone to melancholy.

  When she’d agreed to Miss Peabody’s scheme, there had been no guarantees of love or affection. There had only been the prospect of marriage and fiscal security, and they were boons that couldn’t be discounted.

  Eager to wash and rest a bit, she started across the verandah, but she couldn’t resist peeking in the window to the drawing room as she passed. There were two men present. Why was she not surprised to discover that one of them was James Talbot?

  He slouched on a sofa, drinking hard spirits. A handsome blond man who was probably his same age was seated at the pianoforte. They looked lazy and bored.

  Since his unexpected appearance in her bedchamber the prior evening, she’d tried to pretend he hadn’t been there. She’d been dying to ask someone about him, but couldn’t figure out how to innocently inquire.

  He’d studied her as if he knew things about her she didn’t know. He’d alluded to Mr. Oswald with a derogatory comment about his being a seducing libertine. Yet she couldn’t envision Mr. Oswald as a roué. He hadn’t seemed flirtatious in the least, and Rose had no idea how to find out the truth of the matter.

  Was it any of her business? She was quite sure a husband could act however he liked, and she didn’t see how she—who was just beginning her official position as fiancée—had any standing to question him as to his personal habits or to complain over conduct of which she didn’t approve.

  She heard Mr. Oswald inside. “Why are you wastrels in my parlor? Didn’t I tell you to keep yourselves busy this afternoon?”

  “We are busy,” Mr. Talbot replied.

  “Doing what?” Mr. Oswald barked. “You’ve helped yourself to the liquor, and I’ve learned from past experience that—with Lucas in residence—you’ll consume it all before you depart for London.”

  The blond man’s grin was as devilish as Mr. Talbot’s. “You’re completely right, Mr. Oswald. I’d offer to pay you for it, but you’ve always been so generous. I wouldn’t want to insult you.”

  “Don’t be smart,” Mr. Oswald snapped at him.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

  Mr. Talbot and the blond man, Lucas, shared a mocking toast, and Mr. Talbot said to Mr. Oswald, “Are you pleased with your bride?”

  “She’ll do.”

  “High praise indeed,” Mr. Talbot retorted.

  He was sitting near the window, and he glanced out to the verandah to the exact spot where Rose was loitering and eavesdropping. He stared directly at her, as if he’d known she was there the entire time.

  She blanched and fled.

  * * * *

  “Have you managed to scare her off?” James asked Stanley. “I saw you walking with her. Is she staying or has she the good sense to run as fast and far as she can?”

  “There are worse places to end up than here at Summerfield,” Stanley pompously intoned.

  “I can’t think of any.”

  “Ah…family,” Lucas chided. “It’s so nice to be back in England.”

  “Shut up, Lucas,” Stanley fumed. “I’m in no mood for your mouth today.”

  Lucas Drake was James’s best friend, his school chum and cohort during their decade in the army.

  James had joined to escape Stanley. Lucas had been forced to join by his father who viewed him as a useless wretch and who’d felt the army would correct his incorrigible ways. It hadn’t. He was even more irredeemable now—if that was possible.

  “Will she marry you?” James pressed.

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Stanley answered. “The dowry has been paid, and I’m not about to give it back.”

  Stanley was incredibly vain, and in his dealings with women, he was oblivious.

  “Did you even bother to propose?”

  “Why would I?”

  “She’s a young woman, Stanley. They’re all romantics at heart.”

  “Romance, bah!” Stanley snapped. “I’ve had all the romance in my life that one man should have to tolerate.”

  “A proposal would have made her happy,” James insisted.

  “She’ll be plenty happy at Summerfield. If you’d ever visited that dismal school where she’s been locked away all these years, you’d understand that she recognizes how lucky she is.”

  “A bit of wooing wouldn’t have killed you. You could at least act as if you’re glad she’s here.”

  “I am bloody glad.”

  “But is Miss Ralston? She looked fairly miserable to me.”

  Lucas added, “And terrified.”

  “I’m doing her an enormous favor,” Stanley claimed. “She realizes that I am.”

  “Well then,” Lucas smirked, “it should work out swimmingly.”

  Stanley ignored Lucas’s sarcasm. “It will work out. If I’d had any doubt, I wouldn’t have brought her to the estate.”

  “Was her dowry worth the trouble?” Lucas asked.

  “No. It was a pittance, but then, I’m not marrying her for her dowry.”

  “Why are you marrying her?” Lucas inquired. “I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

  “To sire an heir,” Stanley
fumed. “Try to focus, Lucas. I shouldn’t have to explain these rudimentary facts to you over and over again.”

  “I just can’t hold on to the idea, sir. The notion of little ones racing through the halls, with you bouncing them on your knee, is beyond my limited imagination.”

  “Mine too,” James agreed.

  “Lucas,” Stanley seethed, “I’ve had about all of your charming company I can abide in a single sitting. Don’t you have activities you could pursue this afternoon? Ride to the village and tumble a tavern wench or something.”

  “I tumbled her last night. She wasn’t any fun.”

  Stanley glowered at Lucas, but of course, his fury had no effect. Lucas had constantly lived down to his father’s low expectations. Stanley’s disdain couldn’t begin to compare.

  Stanley turned his glare to James. “Didn’t I ask you not to drag him home with you?”

  “Yes, and I specifically told him he wasn’t welcome. He’s never listened to me.”

  “No, I never have,” Lucas heartily concurred. “Besides, once I heard you were marrying, Mr. Oswald, I was determined to gaze upon your bride with my own two eyes. It was a sight I couldn’t miss.”

  Lucas could push Stanley just so far, then Stanley would have enough of him. The moment arrived swiftly.

  “Get out of here, you annoying scoundrel,” Stanley raged, “or I’ll take a switch to you.”

  “Do you think you could?” Lucas didn’t appear overly worried. “You’re quite advanced in age—and I’m quite a bit bigger—since your previous attempt.”

  In light of Lucas’s insouciance, he’d received many, many whippings in his life. Stanley was just one in a long line of people who’d doled out punishment during Lucas’s formative years, but the castigations had simply made Lucas even more recalcitrant.

  Stanley’s glower deepened. “Don’t assume—because you’re twenty-five and have wasted a decade in the army—that I can’t give you the licking you thoroughly deserve.”

  “It’s nice to see you again too, sir.” Lucas rose to his feet. “I’ll be back for supper.”

  “Oh, good,” Stanley facetiously beamed. “I’ll be on pins and needles until then.”

  “I know you will be. No table is complete without me.”

  Lucas sauntered out, and James stayed on the sofa, lounged on the arm, listening to Lucas leave. He watched as Stanley went over to the sideboard and poured himself a drink.

  “I have never understood your affection for that rude oaf,” Stanley said.

  James shrugged. “I like him. I always have.”

  “I have no idea why.”

  Actually, James was friends with Lucas because Lucas had been kind when James was a boy.

  James was an orphan who’d come to live at Summerfield when he was a toddler. Yet as far as he was aware, he wasn’t related to Stanley. Though James could never fathom why, Stanley had sent James to the best schools to rub elbows with the sons of the elite. But he hadn’t fit in. He’d had no family connection to claim, no exalted name that would have impressed the other students.

  In the heated atmosphere of the boarding school, he’d been bullied and taunted over the obvious fact that he didn’t belong. Yet Lucas—who liked to offend and do the unexpected—had glommed on to James, and the harder the other boys had tried to make James an outsider, the closer James and Lucas had grown.

  Now, as adult men, they were too attached to be separated. Their experiences in the army had seen to that. James was the stable one, the steady one, and Lucas was a total mess and bungler who needed James’s camaraderie just as James had needed Lucas’s all those years ago.

  James was nothing if not loyal. It was one of the few positive traits he possessed. Not that he’d explain as much to Stanley. Plus, he loved how thoroughly Lucas could aggravate Stanley. It was a joy to behold.

  “You’ve spoken with Miss Ralston?” Stanley plopped into the chair across from James.

  “Yes. You gave her my bedchamber, and I barged in without realizing she was there. You might have warned me.”

  “I wanted you to surprise her. I wanted to find out if she’d react.”

  “She reacted, all right. I’m lucky I didn’t get a slap in the face for my efforts.”

  “So she’s feisty, is she?”

  “Definitely.”

  “What else did you notice about her? I would hear your honest opinion.”

  “Pretty. Foolish, like all women.”

  “What else?” Stanley pressed. “You must have observed more than that.”

  James had observed plenty, but he was hesitant to share his views with Stanley.

  When Stanley had lured him home from the army, when he’d made the hilarious announcement that he was marrying again, James had been greatly humored. Now that he’d met Miss Ralston, he was simply confused.

  With that wild auburn hair and those expressive green eyes, she was stunning. He felt she deserved much more than a cold, unhappy union with Stanley, but James didn’t know her at all. How could he judge what she truly sought from the match?

  No matter what her situation, though, he hardly thought Stanley should be the cure. Then again, if she could deliver the desperately needed heir, she’d be set at Summerfield forever. Wasn’t such a boon worth it? Any female in the world would likely leap at the chance.

  James didn’t think Miss Ralston should sacrifice herself, but then, he loathed the estate.

  He’d been brought to Summerfield, rescued from an orphanage in London, by Stanley’s first wife, Edwina. Supposedly, she’d been lonely and had yearned for a child to keep her company. But why James? Of all the orphans in the kingdom, why had he been chosen?

  Stanley had been maddening in his refusal to explain, so James occupied a strange position at Summerfield. He wasn’t acknowledged as kin, but everyone assumed him to be.

  Rumors abounded that he was Stanley’s by-blow from a secret affair, but Stanley had never affirmed or dispelled the gossip, and James couldn’t figure out what to believe. He and Stanley didn’t look anything alike, not in facial features or stature, so there was no physical resemblance to provide any clues. And there was certainly no similarity of personality.

  Stanley had welcomed James into his life, had paid for James’s education, had bought his commission in the army. James viewed Summerfield as his home, but what did that mean?

  He had no genuine bond with Stanley. Not one that Stanley would admit anyway. He constantly teased James with sly innuendo about James’s past, about his parents’ identities, about how Stanley knew precisely what James was dying to know.

  As a boy, James had been frantic to learn who he was, so Stanley had manipulated him in a thousand small ways, but as the years had sped by, Stanley’s power and influence had waned. Especially with James having been in the army for so long.

  His ties to Summerfield and to Stanley had worn thin to the point of snapping. The least little incident could sever them. That’s what James liked to tell himself. The reality was more complicated than that.

  “She’s very bright,” James ultimately said of Miss Ralston, remembering her refined speech and gracious manners. “You’ll never be able to trick her.”

  “Leave it to me.”

  “I wish you’d reconsider.”

  “Well, I’m not going to. What is your answer? Will you help me or not?”

  “There has to be some other way.”

  “You think I haven’t reflected? You think I haven’t dithered and debated and torn out my hair?”

  “Is that where it all went? You tore it out?”

  “Don’t be smart,” Stanley said again as he had to Lucas.

  James sighed. “It would be so much easier if she was stupid.”

  “Stupid! If she was, she’d pass on her insipid traits to my child, and I’d wind up with a dunce for a son. Why would I want that?”

  “Why would you want any of this? It can’t be worth it to deceive her as you’re planning.”

  “I
can’t let Oscar inherit.”

  Oscar was Stanley’s only brother, a pious, cruel, and sanctimonious vicar whom Stanley couldn’t abide and whom James detested. There were hundreds of people who relied on Summerfield for their income and employment, and Oscar was pompous and unbending. If he eventually became the owner of Summerfield, it would be a tragedy for all.

  “It’s too bad you couldn’t have been a tad more fertile,” James said.

  “And it’s too bad I’ve lowered myself to have you as an ally.”

  James shrugged. “You have to pick your partners where you find them.”

  “I certainly do.” Stanley sipped his drink, watching James with those shrewd, cutting eyes of his. James could barely resist squirming. Finally, Stanley asked, “What is your reply? Are you in or out?”

  “Must I decide now?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know what’s best.”

  “I told you: If you assist me, I’ll give you a thousand pounds. More importantly, I’ll give you all the information I have about your parents.”

  “You liar. You never would. If you came clean, your hold over me would be broken.”

  “Yes, it would, but you’d have what you crave: your past, your history, your kin. You’ve always claimed you’d jump any hurdle to discover the details. Will you?”

  James stared and stared, eager to get up and walk out, eager to tell Stanley to use some other sap for his dirty work. But the sad fact was that he needed the money, and he was anxious to unravel the secrets only Stanley could provide. Those secrets were the only thing Stanley possessed that could force James to acquiesce. And there was Miss Ralston to consider.

  She was remarkable, but naïve and trusting, and she’d journeyed to Summerfield with good intentions. She was extremely brave, traveling so far merely to wed an elderly ingrate. James was amazed by her courage. He wouldn’t have dared, but she was ready and willing to proceed.

  Stanley was cruel and manipulative and driven to have his own way. If James refused to help, Stanley would bribe someone else. Who might it be?

  The notion of what might happen to Miss Ralston, of what Stanley might let happen to her, was too disconcerting.