My Fair Princess

by Vanessa Kelly

  “I’m fine,” Gillian said, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to be sick. “I mean . . . a little better.”

  Her ladyship’s brows arched up. Then she glanced at the tea tray. “Have you had nothing to eat? Your mamma said you sent your dinner tray back untouched too.” She laid a hand on Gillian’s forehead, then her cheek. “You don’t feel feverish, but one can’t be too cavalier about these sorts of things. It’s always so damp along the coast.”

  Gillian smiled, warmed by her concern. “I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morning. I just . . .”

  “Wanted to avoid my brother?” Lady Filby responded with a knowing grin.

  “I suppose you heard us this morning. Things did get a bit loud.”

  “Rather. I expect they heard you in the stables.”

  Gillian flopped back on the mattress and dragged a pillow over her face. “How embarrassing,” she said, her voice muffled. “You must think me a terrible shrew.”

  “Nonsense. I entirely sympathize with you. Charles has driven me absolutely demented on more than one occasion. I have learned, however, that retreat is generally not the best option when dealing with a man, and certainly not with my dear brother. You must stand your ground.”

  Gillian edged the pillow aside. “I thought I did that.”

  “Yes, for a time, but then you sounded a rather early retreat. That was a tactical mistake.” The countess regarded her with an understanding smile.

  Gillian let out a heavy sigh as she sat up. “It’s such a mess, and I’m not sure what to do. I’m not even sure if Charles and I should marry.”

  “Of course you should. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

  “I find that rather hard to believe.”

  She blinked when Lady Filby kicked off her shoes and climbed up onto the bed. The countess tucked her feet under her gown, settling her silk skirts and getting comfortable. From her manner, no one would ever guess she was a powerful society matron and the sister of a duke. Tonight, she was simply a very nice woman whom Gillian liked very much.

  The countess took her hand. “My brother is the best of men, but he likes to get his own way. He can’t help it, you know, since almost everyone defers to him. It comes with the territory.”

  “The territory that includes a shipyard and a trading company, five large estates, and the mansion in London,” Gillian said dryly.

  Lady Filby laughed. “I see you’ve been doing your homework. Yes, the title has given Charles considerable power, something he uses judiciously and to good effect. He’s a much better duke than our father ever was, although he refuses to believe it. He has, however, got used to thinking that he knows best about everything. That may be true when it comes to managing crops and livestock, or working on Parliamentary concerns, but relationships with one’s nearest and dearest do not flourish under such conditions.”

  “I hardly think Leverton would put me in the category of nearest and dearest. Not after today, anyway.”

  “I disagree, although I will admit he doesn’t quite seem to know what to do with you.”

  “Nobody ever does,” replied Gillian, trying not to sound gloomy about that fact. “That’s why it’s probably best for Mamma and me to return to Sicily. We can live quietly there, and no one will think twice about us.”

  Lady Filby’s eyebrows crawled up her forehead. “Really? Including the bandits who tried to kill you?”

  “I took care of that problem. No one will be coming after me.”

  “I don’t think your grandmother agrees with that assessment, but let us leave that aside for now. Do you truly think your mother wishes to return to Sicily?”

  Gillian thought she knew the answer, but the tone of Lady Filby’s question gave her pause. “I don’t know why she wouldn’t,” Gillian finally said. “It’s her home. Besides, it’s not as if everyone in England has welcomed her with open arms.”

  “Many have. And don’t forget that her family is here. The Marburys are most eager to have your mother and your grandmother back in the fold. Besides,” Lady Filby added gently, “you can hardly think your mother will wish to leave her mother. After all, Lady Marbury is getting on in years.”

  Gillian frowned. She hadn’t really grappled with the idea of what it would be like to leave Grandmamma behind in England. Along with Mamma, they’d been their own little family for so long, as close as any three women could be.

  “I think you would miss Lady Marbury a great deal,” the countess said in a quiet voice.

  “Yes, I would,” Gillian whispered.

  “Once you are respectably married, the gossips will lose interest in you and your mother. Truly, Gillian, there is no need for you to run back to Sicily.”

  “But Sicily is my home. England isn’t.”

  “It could be, if you gave it half a chance. If you gave Charles half a chance.”

  A funny little ache formed in the center of Gillian’s chest. She had to look away from Lady Filby’s knowing gaze. “I don’t think he truly wants to marry me. He’s just doing it because he thinks he has to.”

  “Are you suggesting that my brother has acted . . . inappropriately?”

  Damn, damn, damn. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her face go hot.

  A gentle hand tapped her cheek. “Look at me, Gillian.”

  She cracked open an eye. Since Lady Filby seemed amused rather than outraged or horrified, Gillian opened the other one.

  “Have you and my brother been intimate?” the countess asked.

  “I suppose you could say that.”

  Lady Filby smiled. “How extraordinary. Well, you have no choice but to marry him now, I’m afraid. And I’m sure he’s insisted on it, has he not?”

  “He has, but I don’t agree that we have no choice. It was only that one time. Well, twice, but the first time we didn’t . . . you know.” She twirled a hand.

  “I see. But the second time, you did. . . .” Lady Filby twirled a hand back.

  “Yes.” It had been more than once over the course of the night, truth be told, although Gillian would die before she shared that little detail.

  “In the most practical sense, once is enough. You might already be with child.”

  Gillian almost swallowed her tongue. That had never occurred to her, which only showed how bloody stupid she was when it came to Charles. “I forgot about that.”

  “My dear, are you in love with my brother?”

  “What difference does that make?” Gillian had to resist the urge to flee from the embarrassing interrogation. “We all know I’d make a terrible duchess.”

  “Charles does not agree, or he would not have asked you to marry him.”

  “But it was all a huge mistake,” Gillian said, exasperated.

  Lady Filby let out a most unladylike snort. “My brother does not make mistakes like that. He’s the most cautious person I know.” Then she suddenly laughed. “Bravo for Charles. I must say, I’m quite proud of him.”

  “What’s there to be proud of? I’m a walking scandal, after all.”

  “You are no such thing. You’re a vibrant young woman with a great deal of character. As far as I’m concerned, you are just what Charles needs. You’ll shake him up.”

  “I doubt it. They don’t call him Perfect Penley for nothing.”

  “Exactly my point,” the countess said. “I think we can agree that Charles is a most disciplined man with a very even temper, is he not?”

  “Well, not lately.”

  “Again, bang on the mark. He was the most even-tempered man in London. An absolute paragon of courtesy until he met you.”

  “I drive him insane,” Gillian said in a morose voice.

  “Did he tell you that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even better. Gillian, he’s acting that way because he’s developed feelings for you—very strong feelings. You’ve broken through that hard shell he’s built up over the years. No one’s been able to do that since Letitia.”

  “
And look how well that turned out.”

  Lady Filby climbed off the bed and slipped her shoes back on. “You’re an altogether different and much better person than that horrible woman. Now, stop fretting. You and Charles will do splendidly together. There is not a shadow of doubt that you’re exactly what he needs.”

  If what he needed was someone to drive him demented, then Gillian supposed she fit the bill.

  The clock on the chimney mantel sounded the late hour.

  “Goodness, I shouldn’t be keeping you up any longer,” the countess exclaimed. She gave Gillian a quick kiss on the cheek. “We can talk more in the morning, if you like.”

  “May I ask you a question before you leave?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did Charles ask you to speak with me?”

  Lady Filby shook her head. “Charles doesn’t need me to fight his battles. I simply wished to explain why he sometimes acts the way he does. And I also wished to tell you that I look forward to calling you sister very soon.”

  Gillian gave her a half smile, far from convinced that such would ever occur.

  The countess was halfway to the door when she turned back. “You never answered my question. Are you, in fact, in love with my brother?”

  Gillian winced, embarrassed. But it felt cowardly to avoid the truth any longer. “Unfortunately for both of us, it would appear that I am.”

  Lady Filby’s answering smile was both warm and understanding. “Then everything will turn out fine. I promise.”

  After the door closed, Gillian flopped back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. Promises, she’d found out long ago, were made to be broken.

  * * *

  Gillian jolted awake, her brain struggling to identify the sound. When she heard it again, she knew what it was. Slipping out of bed, she snatched up her wrapper and dashed for the window. She started to open the sash, only to pull back when another handful of pebbles rattled against the window.

  She cautiously opened it and stuck her head out. “Hush, I hear you,” she hissed to Teddy, who stood below. She glanced around the garden at the shrubbery that looked like ill-shapen beasts crouching in the shadows. “Are you alone?”

  He nodded, shifting restlessly from one foot to the other. Even in the dark, she could see the nervous energy vibrating through his small frame.

  “Wait there,” she said. “I’ll be right down.”

  She glanced at the clock as she hurried to the armoire. It was not yet one o’clock, which meant she’d only dropped off a half hour ago. After her disconcerting chat with Lady Filby, she’d decided against a scouting expedition that night, too tired and rattled to concentrate on tracking down her prey.

  But Fate—and Teddy—seemed to have other plans.

  It took only a few minutes to dress in breeches and boots and retrieve her brace of pistols from under a pile of shawls. After shrugging into her coat, she returned to the window and climbed out onto the sill.

  “Bloody hell, miss,” Teddy gasped.

  “Hush, I know what I’m doing.” She studied the ivy creepers running down the brick facing, then mentally shrugged. They would have to do, since she didn’t dare risk creeping through the house and alerting anyone—especially Charles.

  Gillian made her way carefully down the side of the house, breathing a sigh of relief when the sturdy creepers supported her weight. She paused several feet from the ground, craning left to catch a glimpse of the French doors that led into the ducal library from the terrace. Unless her fiancé was sitting there in the dark, the library was deserted.

  Kicking away from the wall, she dropped down the last few feet into a flowerbed, the soft soil muffling the sound of her landing. She stayed crouched down for several seconds, listening. Then she rose and turned to find Teddy staring at her with eyes as big as Mrs. Peck’s cheddar biscuits.

  “Coo!” he said softly in a tone of reverence. “I ain’t never seen anything like that.”

  “I’ll teach you how to do it, if you like.”

  “That’ll be grand,” he whispered. “Miss, I comes to tell you—”

  Gillian clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Not here.” She steered him into the shrubbery and pulled him down behind a large hydrangea bush. “Now, what’s so important that you’re sneaking around in the middle of the night?”

  “I found ’em, miss,” he replied, excited. “Them smugglers we’ve been looking for.”

  Her heart jammed against her ribs. “You found them? Where?”

  “At the Fox and Firkin, where I was helping old Dodd tonight. Two of the rum coves came in for a spell. Stayed late, makin’ plans about movin’ their stuff. Baubles and fripperies, the one called it. Said they was sure to fetch a pretty price in the city.”

  That squared up with what the Bow Street runner had told Charles about the goods not leaving the county. But Gillian had been correct too, since the thieves were obviously getting ready to move them out.

  “Did you get any clues about the whereabouts?” she asked.

  Teddy looked perplexed.

  “Where they’re hiding the, er, fripperies,” she clarified.

  He nodded. “I followed them when they left the tavern.”

  She practically toppled over. “Please tell me they didn’t see you.” Gillian had promised Charles—and herself—that she’d never put Teddy in harm’s way again. If anything happened to the boy, she’d never forgive herself.

  “Nah, they didn’t. Besides, they’d think I was too afraid to follow. After—” He clamped his lips shut, as if annoyed with himself.

  Gillian moved closer, squinting to see his face. Fitful moonlight barely illuminated his features, but she could see enough. Fighting a surge of fury, she gently touched his bruised cheek. “Who did this to you?”

  He pulled away, clearly embarrassed. “It ain’t nothin’, miss. The big one—he be their leader, I think—he cuffed me for lurkin’ about their table.”

  Gillian’s heart all but stopped. “Did he think you were spying on him?”

  “Nah. I burst into tears and said I was just doin’ my job, sweepin’ up. Old Dodd backed me up. He said I was true blue and would never stain.”

  “And did they believe him?”

  “Aye. The one that hit me even gave me a penny to make up for it,” he said. Then he scowled. “Course, old Dodd made me give it to him for causin’ so much trouble.”

  Gillian patted Teddy’s shoulder. “I’ll give you half a crown to make up for it. Tell me what you did next.”

  “Old Dodd sent me home, but I waited outside until the smugglers left. They was on foot, which I thought was queer as all get-out, so I followed. Turns out they’s got a snug little hole in the old gamekeeper’s cottage right here on the duke’s lands. No one stays there anymore. It’s only used to store traps and such.”

  “How far is it from here?”

  “Less than two miles.” He huffed out a cynical laugh that was much too old for his years. “Can you believe it? They were right under His Grace’s nose. You think old Scunthorpe woulda known about that.”

  “He probably did,” she said, repressing the urge to curse. Scunthorpe was almost certainly in on it and had been from the beginning. No wonder he’d done everything he could to divert the duke’s concerns.

  “Do you want me to take you there, miss?”

  Gillian glanced up at the old house, dark and settled for the night. Part of her wanted to alert Charles, but her instincts told her there wasn’t a moment to lose. Besides, the duke would probably wish to question Teddy and no doubt engage in yet another argument with her before taking action. Meanwhile, the villains could be slipping away with the jewelry.

  According to the boy, there were only two of the blackguards. Armed as she was, she had little doubt she could handle them, if necessary. “Yes, but you must do everything I say, Teddy. We must be sure not to get caught.”

  He grinned at her. “No fear, miss. I’ll be as silent as the grave.”

  His choice
of words sent a warning shiver dancing across her skin, but Gillian clamped down on it. She’d always trusted her instincts, and those instincts were telling her to act. If the situation looked like something she couldn’t manage on her own, she’d send Teddy back to Fenfield to raise the alarm.

  Casting one more glance back at the house, she turned and followed the boy, who was already disappearing like a phantom into the woods.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “There, miss.” Teddy pointed to the decrepit-looking hut in the small clearing. A fitful light beamed out from behind broken shutters. “What did I tell you?”

  “Well done,” Gillian whispered. “But I have to get closer. I can’t properly see anything from here.”

  “Let me. I’m quick as anything, and no one will hear me.” He started to wriggle through the underbrush, but Gillian quickly clamped a hand on the scruff of his jacket and pulled him back.

  “I need you to stay here and keep watch,” she hissed in his ear.

  Teddy gave his head a stubborn shake. “Spyin’ ain’t proper business for a lady.”

  “Do I look like the average lady to you?”

  He eyed her. “No, miss, but it’s my duty to protect you. His Grace would be right frosted if I let you get hurt.”

  “His Grace would be right frosted if he had the slightest inkling of our present activities. Now, stay here, and, if you see or hear anything odd, just give me a quiet whistle.”

  He clutched her sleeve. “It ain’t right, miss. If you was to get hurt . . .”

  “Did I ever tell you about the time I shot a bandit lord?”

  His eyes popped wide. “No. Did you kill him?”

  “I did. So you needn’t worry that I can’t protect myself. I have my pistols, and I have this.” She slipped out the blade she always carried in her boot.

  “Coo, that looks sharp,” Teddy breathed.

  “Very sharp. Now, I’m just going for a look. I promise I’ll be right back.”

  When he reluctantly let go of her arm, Gillian went flat on the ground and carefully crawled forward. She’d been hunting for years, both animal and man, and had learned long ago to move in silence. That skill had kept her from discovery on more than one occasion, and she had every confidence it would now.