Sir Michael's Mayhem

by Susan M. Baganz

  Where was Michael? Why couldn’t he be here? Life was no fun when he wasn’t around. Even with the painful things, breaking her leg, or being branded, there was something joyous about being in his presence, in his arms. Safe. Secure.

  The wind rustled the leaves and blew a few stray hairs across her face. It was as if God said “I am always here.”

  “Are you here, God?” The sun coming through the branches warmed her back and the cooler air blew across her exposed limbs and face. She closed her eyes and listened. And smiled. Yes. He was definitely here. She sat there for the longest time, finally she glanced down. With a swallow of fear she began to descend. She was just about to the branch where she had fallen when she heard him.

  “Careful. Marcus will kill me if you break your leg again.”

  “Michael!” Katrina held on to the tree tightly and looked down.

  Michael was on a branch below her.

  When she finally reached him she gripped the tree with one arm and reached out to touch his face. She whispered in wonder, “It really is you.”

  Michael smiled. “How about we finish this descent and have our reunion safe on the solid ground below?”

  Katrina nodded and together they made their way down the rest of the tree, Michael leading and speaking encouragement to her. When he was finally on the ground, he caught her waist when she hung from the branch, and he slowly let her feet touch the grass.

  Katrina wrapped her arms around Michael and without thinking turned her head so that her lips would meet his.

  The kiss was sweet and innocent but soon became urgent. Katrina didn’t want to stop.

  “Oh!” she said as Michael pushed her away from him, unlatching her arms from around his neck. Shame and heat filled her and she stared at the ground.

  Michael lifted her chin so that their eyes would meet. “Don’t be ashamed, Mouse, that was a welcome back greeting any man would be happy to receive. It’s just, well, I was enjoying it a bit too much and I do not want to anticipate our wedding night.” Now it was Michael’s turn to blush.

  The word wedding hit Katrina like a pail of icy cold water. She gasped and shook her head. She turned and ran as fast as she could to the house and up to her room.

  Wedding? He presumed a wedding? How dare he? Katrina punched her pillow. A black and white bundle of fur emerged from under it and clicked at her.

  “I’m sorry, Fidget. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” She reached out to stroke the ferret’s back and the animal leaned into the comforting touch.

  “Your master has returned. He thinks to marry me. Ohhhh, I am so vexed!”

  She lay back on the bed and the mattress dipped under the force of her collapse. Tears came. She removed her spectacles and got up to put them on the side table. She stretched out with the pillow, with the ferret curled up next to her, and cried herself to sleep.

  15

  The drawing room was empty when Michael entered it a short time later. He had yet to greet his hosts and anticipated surprising them with his arrival. His skin was darker from his trip abroad and in the elements, but otherwise, he appeared the same as he always did. He wondered what Katrina would say after their misadventure upon his arrival.

  He had not been very happy when he had searched for her only to find her up in the tree. Like the cat he was, he managed to climb halfway up, undetected, before she began her descent. He could not have been mistaken in the love in her eyes when she’d discovered him there. And that spontaneous kiss was something wonderful, better than his dreams could have conjured up. England’s welcome might have been brutal, but Mouse’s more than made up for it.

  Michael stood by the fire and waited. The bell announcing dinner in less than a quarter hour rang and he was still alone.

  Finally, minutes later, Marcus and Josie entered the room, arm in arm.

  “Michael. What a delightful surprise.” Josie hurried over to him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

  Marcus followed, clapped Michael on the shoulder, and said, “Well met, did you just arrive? Does Katrina know of your return?”

  “I arrived a few short hours ago, and yes, Katrina is aware I am here.” Michael looked toward the door as if expecting her to enter any minute.

  Instead, a footman entered to announce dinner and that Miss Shepherd was indisposed and would not be joining them.

  Michael’s shoulders slumped at the news, but he put a smile on his face, straightened up again, and joined his host and hostess to the dining room.

  ~*~

  Michael tried hard to hide his disappointment at Mouse’s defection at the dinner table. He kept things light and impersonal with Marcus and Josie even though he could tell they were bursting with curiosity over his recent adventures of which he could not share.

  When Josie left the gentlemen to their port, Marcus finally broached the topic that had been avoided.

  “What is going on between you and Mouse?” Marcus raised the glass to his lips but his gaze was on his friend.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “She states that she refuses to marry you, as you have not asked her.”

  “I asked her, but she refused. I figured it was because of the stress of the circumstances at the time.”

  “And so you moved ahead with posting the banns and publishing a notice, without consulting her?”

  “I needed to protect her reputation after our adventures which have inadvertently compromised her if the truth was exposed to the public. I’ve made my position clear to Mouse. Her reception of me this afternoon indicated that she was not averse to my suit. But…” Michael ran his thumb up and down the stem of the glass on the table before him.

  “But?”

  “I mentioned something about the wedding and she took off like a frightened hare with a pack of dogs after it.” Michael frowned.

  “And she refused to face you over dinner.”

  Michael nodded. “Any suggestions?”

  “Perhaps you should propose?”

  “How? She won’t see me.”

  “Maybe Josie can help us figure something out.”

  “I need all the help I can get it seems. And I am not content to wait much longer to begin my life with her by my side. That dream kept me alive these past weeks.”

  Marcus smiled. “You are most certainly in love and I remember what that frustration was like. Let us go consult with my bride and see what we can come up with.” Marcus rose and Michael did likewise.

  The two men exited the dining room to seek out the lovely Viscountess Remington.

  ~*~

  Katrina picked at the dinner Josie sent to her room. She requested some port but she thought perhaps she had drunk too much. It was late and she stared out the window into the early summer moonlight. The tree called out to her again, but dare she?

  She shrugged, pulled on her robe and some slippers and tiptoed out into the darkened empty hallways of Rose Hill. She made her way down to a side door letting her out into the rose garden. She walked slowly through there, inhaling the scent of the flowers. She existed in a blissful haze, everything fuzzy around the edges even though she wore her spectacles. Had she ever been drunk before? She couldn’t remember a time when she had an opportunity to do so. She giggled to herself, twirled, and made her way to the big tree. She came to the wide trunk and leaned her forehead against the rough bark.

  Was it only this afternoon that she had been so foolish as to embrace Michael here, practically begging him to make love to her? Her body grew warm at the thought. She turned and found her favorite spot to sit. Leaning against the trunk she tipped her head back to see the moon. How romantic. A full moon and here she was alone and refusing to be with the one man who professed he loved and wanted her. What was that about? She pulled her knees up to her chest, kicked off her slippers and let her toes wiggle in the cool grass. She folded her arms across her knees and leaned forward.

  What did she really desire? At first, she longed for her father’s name to be redeemed. She had been willing
to give everything to that cause until it possibly meant that Michael would die because of it. So, she had thrown away the precious journal. How little she had known of Michael and his skill and cunning as a spy. She did not regret the action, although she missed reading her father’s writing. The book was burned in the fire but many of those words still resonated within her heart.

  Tears dripped from her cheeks and she pushed her glasses up into her hair as she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown. What would her father advise her to do? She shook her head. She would never really know. What about God? Did God want her to marry Michael? What kind of life would she have married to a spy? Would she spend her days as she had the last several weeks, worrying over him and wondering if he’d be killed?

  A shadow crossed the moonlight and Michael stood there gazing up at the sky.

  “Every night as I walked, I’d see stars and the moon and knew that somewhere you were under the same sky and in the care of good friends, and I could relax. You would heal and recover, but I couldn’t wait to complete my mission to return here—to you.” Now he focused on her, his eyes hooded and no smile on his face.

  He turned toward her and bent to one knee. He placed one arm across that knee and the other hand reached the ground to help support him. “I think I may have always loved you Katrina, but was too blind to notice it. But you kiss me and all I can think about is living the rest of my life with your love and no other future seems satisfactory. Every time I told you I wanted you for my wife, I was speaking the truth. I still want you if you’ll have me. But if for some reason you simply cannot fathom living your life with a retired spy of modest fortune who only desires to love and cherish you and raise a family together, I will accept that and withdraw with as much grace as I can.” Michael’s eyes appeared dark in the shadows and the moon wreathed his hair in soft, white light.

  Like an angel. Her wits scattered with the alcohol singing through her veins at the words he had spoken. Warmth filled her and she had an irresistible urge to touch him. She came to her knees before him, put her hands on his face and kissed him with all the passion that was in her intoxicated little heart.

  And then she giggled.

  ~*~

  Michael stood and brought her to her feet. “You’re drunk.”

  Katrina giggled again and put a hand up to her mouth as she made an unladylike sound. Michael let go of her and she swayed. He grabbed her.

  Michael groaned and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he drew her close and held her tight. He shook his head and without a word scooped her up in his arms and headed for the house.

  “What are you doing?” she asked with a silly smile.

  “Taking you to your bed.”

  “Will you stay with me?” Her voice was coy now and she fluttered her eyelashes.

  “No.”

  “But you want me, don’t you?” she mewled.

  “Not like this, and only as my wife.”

  “Oh.” She laid her head on his shoulder and he could smell her distinctive scent of vanilla. He groaned.

  Reaching her door, he managed to open it and put her in her room. Once on her feet, she swayed again. “Can you make it to bed?” he asked as he reluctantly took his hands off her.

  “Only if you come with me.” She reached for him.

  Michael stepped back and shook his head. “No, Katrina. I hate to disappoint a lady, but no.” With that he slipped out the door, shutting it quietly behind him.

  When he turned in the hallway he found Marcus there with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. “This wasn’t quite what we discussed after dinner.”

  Michael frowned. “I proposed outside by the tree, but soon realized she was three sheets to the wind and brought her back to her room. I did nothing improper.” Michael frowned and stood there silently.

  The door opened behind him. Katrina stepped out from her room, swayed, and leaned against the frame. “Michael, oh good, you’re still here.” She squinted into the darkness. “Marcus, is that you? Why are you here?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Katrina. I heard strange noises in the hallway, came to investigate, and found Michael exiting your suite.”

  She giggled. “I’m so bad!” She blushed and reached towards Michael who moved away, a frown still on his face.

  “I’ll be leaving now, Marcus. Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Michael…”

  “No, don’t you Michael me, Marcus. I don’t want to marry a woman who can only bear to even consider marriage to me when she’s drunk. I’m done.” He turned to Katrina. “Good night, Mouse. You get your wish. I will not be pursuing you further.” With that, Michael strode down the hallway to his room.

  ~*~

  Katrina frowned. “I think he’s angry.”

  Marcus nodded but unfolded his arms.

  “He did give me a lovely proposal.”

  “And how did you answer him?”

  Katrina brought her hand up to her mouth, hiccupped, and shook her head. Her face flushed and she stumbled back into her room. She found the chamber pot in time.

  ~*~

  Katrina awoke in the morning to a horrible headache. It took a few minutes for the room to stop spinning.

  “Good morning!” sang out Lady Remington.

  Katrina groaned and rolled over. “Leave me be.”

  “Seems like you need some help. I’ve left you be for several weeks as you moped about here. Then you play fast and loose with a dear friend of mine and well, I’m not feeling that charitable this morning. We need to get you dressed as we head to London in under two hours.” Josie started giving instructions to a maid who entered behind her.

  “London? I never said I was ready for London.” Katrina groaned.

  “Ready or not, to London you will go. If you intend to rebuff Sir Michael Tidley, you need to find another suitor and fast, lest word of your activities spreads around town. Michael did a wonderful job protecting you from the consequences of your choices. He was even in love with you and willing to marry you, but you made your position clear. So now that this has been decided, we depart for London to launch you amongst the ton.”

  “I don’t want to go,” Katrina protested.

  “Marcus did not give us a choice. Molly will get you ready. Cook is sending up a special remedy for that headache as well. You will have the rest of the day to repent of it in the carriage.” With that, Josie sailed out of the room.

  Katrina squeezed her eyes shut. How did things get so crazy all of a sudden? London. She didn’t want to go there. Josie was right, she needed to go. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself out of bed.

  ~*~

  The carriage ride east was over rutted roads. Normally she wasn’t a poor traveler, but with her being sick from her overindulgence, the trip was pure agony. Josie sat next to her and kept up a steady stream of ideas for Katrina’s launch into society.

  Marcus was riding on his favorite horse, Cloud. Their daughter was in the next carriage with the nanny and Josie’s abigail, Molly.

  Katrina closed her eyes and tried to sleep even though her head pounded in time with the horses’ hooves.

  They arrived at the Remington townhouse in the evening.

  Katrina went straight up to bed in the room assigned to her.

  ~*~

  Later, Marcus and Josie relaxed in their sitting room.

  “Did she say anything to you about Michael on the journey?” Marcus asked.

  “No, she appeared miserable, but it’s hard to know if it was her head, her heart, or both.”

  “I could push the issue.”

  “If Katrina backs out of this engagement, she will need to face the scandal,” Josie said.

  “Is there any way we can avoid it?”

  “Other than Michael marrying her?”

  “Yes,” Marcus agreed.

  “Probably not. Are you concerned about how this might reflect on your work in the House of Lords?” Josie inquired.

  “No. We’ve we
athered the tattling tongues of the ton before. She’s my cousin, not my child. I’m not even her trustee anymore, although she has asked me to continue to manage her funds. She is an independent woman.”

  “The worst kind.” Josie giggled.

  Marcus nuzzled her neck. “You think so?”

  “Oh, most definitely. Katrina and Michael need each other. They love each other. They’re just being stubborn.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Pray. Beyond that, nothing.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Yes, Marcus, I’m sure.” Josie leaned over to kiss her husband and neither of them gave another thought about their friends’ dilemma.

  ~*~

  “He’s back on English soil. Tristan failed you again, my lord.”

  The Black Diamond reclined in his chair and looked past the minion who delivered his news. He smiled and nodded his head. “Chip off the ol’ block, isn’t he?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “My son, Sir Michael Tidley. He’s a lot like his father, which happens to be—me.”

  “You were trying to eliminate your son?”

  “As much as I admire his work, he has, more times than I can count, interfered with my plans. I cannot allow that to continue.”

  “How will you kill him?”

  “I think a little game of Cat and Mouse will be appropriate, but I think I need some cheese as bait.” The Black Diamond rubbed his hands together in glee.

  16

  Theodore knocked on the door. With no response, he pounded harder. When there continued to be no answer he went around back and managed to gain entrance through a secret door he had used once before. He walked into the dark house but did not try to be quiet. Instead, he whistled. He made his way to the study on the main floor. He opened the door and peered inside. The room stank. There was a low fire in the grate and a boot could be seen, attached to a hidden body.