Joseph was slowly settling into life on the farm, where they would stay through spring. But at the moment, he and Evelyn were enjoying the crisp cold night. They had moved a cot and several blankets to the balcony and were now huddled together looking at the heavens above.
“Is it not beautiful?” Evelyn asked him.
“You are beautiful, love,” said Joseph as he kissed the little part of her that wasn’t covered in blankets.
“You are a hopeless romantic. And I love you for it. Do you like it here in Caversham? We don’t have the excitement of London.”
“Nor the crime nor the grime nor the overcrowded streets.”
“We do have sheep.”
“I can tolerate the sheep.”
“You can?” she asked with a grin.
“Of course. It is how we met.”
“I prefer to think we met because a charming knight came to my rescue.”
“We rescued each other.”
“And the sheep.”
“And the blasted sheep.”
They looked at the stars again.
“I believe my father is watching over us,” said Evelyn. “And Mr. and Mrs. Minsberg, too.”
He pulled her closer to him. “I believe you’re right my love. But you do not have to look to the stars for your guardian. I will forever be by your side.”
“And I will be by yours.”
They kissed, confident their love would last longer than the stars.
EPILOGUE #2
Caversham, January 1823
The drive from Lynwood Manor to Caversham had been less than a day and Liam and Rosalind had made the most of having a closed carriage all to themselves. While they both enjoyed having a house full of family, the idea of getting away for a few days had been irresistible. Liam hadn’t been back to Jasmine Manor in years and, of course, Rosalind had never been there. They were also anxious to see how Joseph and Evelyn were settling into their new life.
Liam had stayed away from the property for two reasons. One was that this was the estate that had meant so much to his parents, so trips to Caversham were painful. The other reason was that he’d always wondered whether he could have a marriage like his parents. Whenever he’d look at his parents’ portrait, he’d wondered whether he would love his wife the way his father loved his. Now he knew he did.
He loved the family portrait in the entry way. His parents were seated on a blanket at a picnic. They were not touching, but sitting less than an arm’s length away. It was a spring day and his father was wearing a linen suit. His mother was wearing a light spring gown fashionable a generation ago. They were gazing into each other’s eyes and there was no doubt how much they loved each other.
And how much they were loved by others.
He wanted to stand before that portrait with Rosalind, hand in hand. He wanted to show her not just his family’s past, but his future with her.
The carriage drew to a halt in the front drive. Liam checked to make sure he and Rosalind were presentable, then gave her a quick kiss. The door opened and he helped her down from the carriage.
They turned to face the Keegans, who were beaming from ear to ear, as well as a smiling Logan and Oates. They all bowed to Liam and Rosalind. But Mrs. Keegan could not contain herself. She held out her hands and walked to Liam. He quickly closed the gap, not wanting to risk the good lady slipping on the ice.
“Your grace!” she said, as he folded her into a hug. “How wonderful it is to see you again. And you brought your lovely duchess.”
“Yes, I have,” said Liam, as he turned to Rosalind with pride in his eyes. He made the introductions and, just as he predicted, the servants fell in love with her.
She really was something, his duchess.
Mrs. Keegan could hardly contain her excitement. “We were so pleased when you sent word that you were coming to visit. There are so many things we’d like to ask her grace, to make sure everything is to her liking.”
“I’m sure everything will be lovely,” said Rosalind.
They stepped into the foyer and Liam looked up at the painting.
Then stopped short. He heard Rosalind’s gasp beside him.
“What happened to the portrait?”
The Keegans, Logan and Oates looked at him confused.
“The portrait, your grace?” asked Mr. Keegan. “We have not done anything with it, other than a thorough dusting when we heard you were coming. Not that it ever has dust on it when you’re away. The Mrs. makes sure it is always clean. It is, of course, the part of the manor we’re proudest of.”
“My parents!” said Liam, unable to find the words. “They’re…they’re…”
“Without a stitch of clothing!” Rosalind finished for him.
Admittedly, they were rather tastefully nude. The late duchess was lying on the ground, with the duke lying on his side, blocking her from view. But there was no doubt that both were naked, if rather well covered by flowers and a tree stump.
“You can see they have no clothes?” asked Mr. Keegan.
“Yes!” said Liam and Rosalind at once.
“How splendid!” said Mrs. Keegan. “Your grace, you have chosen so well for yourself. You both have and we couldn’t be more pleased. Now, we will see to your things and arrange for a bath.”
The servants left Liam and Rosalind alone to stare at the portrait. Rosalind could not prevent the laugh that escaped.
“Liam, I am not sure what to say.”
He took her hand. “You do not have to say anything. We should just look to my parents as an example of how the Duke and Duchess of Lynwood should live and love.” He kissed her. “Though, I do not believe I’ll be looking directly at that portrait for some time. It is most disconcerting.”
Then he whisked his bride up the stairs in search of the ducal suite.
[Please keep reading for some extras…]
Dear Wonderful Readers,
We’re not quite done with this book yet. This was a tough one to write. I threw away 225 pages of my first draft and went in a completely different direction. Then even this book had a few scenes that were cut. I’m including a few here, along with an explanation, in case you’re interested….
Joseph in Peril
[Originally, Pip wasn’t just going to kidnap Evelyn to get her to marry Robert. She was also going to kill Joseph. Pip’s a bitch. This scene is right before Evelyn is kidnapped, though it happens at night after a ball, rather than in the light of day. Joseph receives a note at the ball.]
The note did not make sense. It was from Evelyn and it had been handed to him by a footman. It said to meet her in the park because she had something to tell him. Though the park was just across the street, he hated thinking of her going there by herself. Mayfair was a safe neighborhood in general, but nowhere in London was safe all the time. Especially at night.
He slipped out of the party, past the late comers who were only then arriving. He crossed the wide street to the edge of the park. He could still hear the music from the ball, the lights in front of the house burned brightly. Which made the park look all the darker.
“Evelyn?” He could see no one in the park, though with the lack of lighting, she could have been standing but ten feet away and he would not have seen her.
But why did she not answer him?
Suddenly, he heard a cry down a darkened pathway. It sounded like a woman. He paused just long enough to unsheathe the knife from his boot, then ran toward the noise, keeping alert to everything around him. As a Runner, he’d been in danger countless times, often running into blind alleys and dark tenements. His senses were acute, often enabling him to detect movement without seeing or hearing it.
And that is what likely saved him.
He felt the whoosh of a club being swung at his head and was able to duck just in time. He struck out with his knife in the direction of his assailant, tearing through the man’s leg. He knew he’d been successful when he heard him cry out in pain.
But he hadn’t been
able to get to his feet quickly enough and now was being kicked by two men, one of which was wearing steel boots. He curled into a ball, as he tried to detect a woman’s voice. Had that scream been from a woman? Or a man disguising his voice?
One of his assailants reached his leg further back, trying to put more power into his kick. It was the movement Joseph had been waiting for. He elbowed the man’s supporting leg at the knee, making him go down hard.
That enabled Joseph to get to a crouch, looking about to see who else was there. But before he could do aught else, he felt a cord come around his neck, which pulled him to his feet. Fortunately, it was not a razor-sharp garrote, but in his effort to put his hands between the rope and his neck, he dropped his knife, which was quickly picked up by someone else.
The person behind Joseph was large and Joseph’s back came against the man’s extended belly, giving him little room to maneuver. He heard a laugh, then a man carrying a lantern came into view. Joseph vaguely recognized him as Paul Risley, the second in command to a crime syndicate he’d helped take down a year earlier. He’d heard Risley had bribed his way to an early release. Joseph knew to be cautious in the mean streets of Seven Dials, for there were any number of ruffians who would kill a Bow Street Runner for sport. But to come all the way to Mayfair? Something was up.
“I see from yer look, ye remember me,” said Risley, who was flanked by two other men. He took a look at his fallen associates. “You fight good. But it won’t save yer sorry life.”
“You’re a long way from home, Risley.”
“Aye, I am. Seven Dials doesn’t hold its appeal for me the way it used to and I’d still like to know who set me up to take the fall last year.”
It had been Risley’s boss, who hadn’t liked his lieutenant’s ambition. Joseph had no love for the crime lord, but he didn’t feel like telling Risley who’d done it. “There are any number of men who talk to Bow Street, for the right price. I imagine most of the men here would turn you in for enough coin.”
Risley looked at his men, each of whom was uttering protestations, but all of whom would probably slit Risley’s throat if there was something in it for them.
Risley spit out his tobacco. “I would be less interested in my future than yours, which is going to be short.”
“Why here? Why tonight?”
“When ye think about it, fancy Mayfair is the perfect place to kill someone. No bulls around to stop us. ‘Cept you, of course. But you ain’t in any shape to do it. And with all the noise across the street, there’s no one to hear your screams.”
“How did you know I would be here?”
“You’re full of questions, ain’t ye? Well, suppose I can grant a dying man his request by answering. Seems like there’s a lady who wants you dead. She was looking around for someone to do the job. I told her I’d do it – for a price. I’d do it for free, but I was never one to turn down coin. ‘Specially from someone whose purse is as deep as hers. Got good coin up front and I plan to keep getting good coin for years to come from blackmailing her. She don’t know about that part, yet.”
“Does this lady have a name?” He was pretty sure he knew who it was, but it was good to know for certain.
“Some countess. She didn’t give me her name, but I had someone follow her home. Her husband’s the Earl of Larsen and supposed to come into an inheritance.”
Joseph would make sure that would not occur. He just had to get out of this first. Then a chilling thought came to mind. “What do they plan to do to the lady?”
“What lady?”
“The heiress.”
“Dunno. Don’t care. Not being paid to. All’s I had to do was provide a hidey hole for them to go to for a while. Once I did that, I was done with all that. And now I get to do the fun part. What the…?”
Joseph heard the noise of men in their cups, singing loudly and off key. He couldn’t see their faces, but there were three of them, and from the sounds of it, they had a couple of women with them. Women who were giggling. If they stuck to the path, they would not come in contact with Risley’s men. And God help them if they did, for even sober, three lords would have no defense against these ruffians, and a woman would be at their mercy. There was no use calling out to them. He would just get them killed. And Joseph would not have that on his conscience.
“Ho, there!” said the first man, signaling to one of Risley’s men and staggering in his direction. “Can you tell me where to get some laud’num? I heard I could get some in the park.”
It was too dark to see clearly, but it seemed like the man, oblivious to the danger, had just draped himself over one of Risley’s men. Just then, a cloud passed, allowing some moonlight to illuminate the scene. The man looked like the Earl of Ridgeway.
Then another man stumbled into sight….
Good God. It was Arthur, with Hal baying at the moon behind him.
Stapleton made his move. He whipped his head backward, hitting the man holding him in the nose and, from the sounds of it, breaking it. He grabbed the man’s pistol from his waistband, then turned toward Risley.
Risley, who had a pistol aimed at his head by Vanessa. Melanie had run out to the street to call for help. Ridgeway, Hal and Arthur had all disarmed their men.
“If you’re thinking of making a move for the pistol, Risley, I would not recommend it. She won’t hesitate to shoot,” said Stapleton.
“Risley and I are old friends,” said Vanessa calmly, even as Joseph could hear whistles blown and the sounds of men running toward the park. “He knows better than to cross me.”
The park was quickly filling up with onlookers. A few footmen tied up the villains.
Joseph took Risley by the throat and pushed him against a tree. “Where is the hidey hole?”
“I ain’t telling you a thing.”
“You will for the simple reason that I am the person who determines where you will be in Newgate as you await sentencing. Your throat could be slit before dawn. Not because I will be behind it. But because you have plenty of enemies who will see to it.”
From the look of fear that flashed across Risley’s face, it was clear he had no desire to be housed with his enemies. “How do I know you’ll honor your word?”
“You don’t.”
“But you know you can trust me,” said Vanessa, who had come up behind them. “I vouch for the Inspector, Risley. You’ll be safe if you tell him what he needs to know.”
Risley studied her. “It was a shame, it was, when you went to work for the Home Office.”
“Nevertheless, tell him what he needs to know.”
Risley looked like he’d rather do anything but give up the information. But as the Runners from Bow Street began to arrive, he knew he had lost.
Moments later, Stapleton rejoined Arthur and Hal, who were reliving their exploits with Ridgeway.
“Arthur, Hal, I need your help to save Evelyn.”
“Of course,” said Arthur.
“I would like to help, as well,” said Ridgeway. Then, off Stapleton’s glare, he added. “I concede the competition. I withdraw from the field, but good God man, I think I proved I’m a good man in a fight.”
Joseph grunted his assent – which was a good deal better than giving the man a pounding simply because he’d kissed Evelyn. The men ran to hail a hack, only to realize they were trailed by Vanessa and Melanie.
“Do not even think about trying to dissuade us from coming,” said Mel. “We proved ourselves useful earlier.”
“Only because we had no time to keep you from coming,” complained Hal, who pulled his wife to his side and kissed her, as Arthur hailed a hack.
It was a crowded ride to the location Risley had supplied. “How did you know where I was?”
“A footman had seen you,” said Arthur. “We caught up enough to see you enter the park. We heard the fight, then had to quickly decide how best to help.”
“It was Lady Vanessa’s idea,” said Ridgeway. “And a brilliant one it was, madam.” He smiled a
t her, revealing straight white teeth.
“That’s my wife you’re leering at, Ridgeway,” said Arthur.
“I think it was very kind of Lord Ridgeway to assist us,” said Melanie. “And we shall be glad of the extra man I am sure when we reach Lady Evelyn.”
Ridgeway smiled at Melanie and was just about to reply when Hal said “Stubble it, Ridgeway.”
A quarter of an hour later, they were at a house near Covent Garden. Joseph prayed they were on time.
Joseph Fantasizes About Evelyn
[He took his own sweet time about making his feelings known. But his thoughts turned toward her often.]
Evelyn was holding up well, though he could only imagine the strain she was under. He wondered what would happen to her if she lost her home and fortune. He would gladly offer to make her his wife. He could easily provide her with the essentials, though he wouldn’t be able to keep her in the riches that an earl’s daughter deserved. However, she did not seem to be someone who spent a great deal of money on frivolous things, unless one counted books. And he would gladly give her money to go shopping at Hatchard’s to add to his library.
He could envision it clearly. The two of them reading on a cold winter’s night in front of the fire. Of course, he would be concerned that she wasn’t warm enough, so perhaps he would move the chaise in front of the fire, so he could sit next to her for the added warmth. Mayhap after a time, they would put away their books and talk about their day. He would put his arm around her. She would rest her head on his shoulder. He would hold her close as they talked….oh bloody hell. He’d have her flat on her back as he ravished her senseless. Or she could be on top of him. Or in front of him. He would gladly kneel before her. He could barely contain his excitement at the thought of her kneeling in front of him.
What were they supposed to be doing, again? That’s right. Reading. But there was nothing to say they couldn’t read and make love, as well.
He was hopelessly besotted. It was as if he’d been infected by whatever love sickness the Kellingtons had all so happily succumbed to. But in his case, there could be no happy ending.
Never Turn Away (Kellington Book Six) Page 22