The Earl and the Highwayman's Daughter

by Maggi Andersen

  Although it was early for the ton to arrive in force, the warm summer’s day drew many to the park. Ladies and gentlemen promenaded along the paths, others drove down South Carriage Drive in their landaus. Eugenia rode with Genie along Rotten Row, the warm sun on her back and the smell of clipped grass in the air. Friends greeted Genie while casting curious glances at Eugenia. They were polite, and some welcoming, but others, perhaps in loyalty to the duke, refused to acknowledge her.

  “I doubt society will ever fully accept me,” Eugenia said to Genie as they walked their horses down the Row.

  “Those that matter will,” Genie said. “Many are curious about you and will want to know you better in time.”

  “I don’t believe I’ll remain in London for long. Lady Beale will soon be returning to Beale Park, and I cannot stay with my kind benefactor unchaperoned.”

  Genie smiled at her. “Then why don’t you come and stay at Briar Place? I should love your company.”

  “But your husband, Lord Sephton…”

  Genie shook her head. “As he is busy with parliament he’ll be glad I have company. Promise me you’ll think about it.”

  “I will. Thank you for the kind invitation.” Negotiating London society was exhausting. Eugenia was constantly on her guard, careful of her manners and her words. She could never be herself for fear of offending people. A sudden urge to disappear, was quickly tamped down. She could not do anything to hurt or worry Brendan, whom she dearly loved, and she’d grown most fond of Chloe. But to remain in London and not see him except at social engagements made her breathless. She was not at all sure her poor heart could stand it. Fighting to retain a calm demeanor, she held her horse a little apart as Genie chatted gaily with a group of riders. Her newfound relative seemed a warm-hearted soul. Eugenia should be glad of the friendship she offered, and not yearn to return to Lilac Court and Molly.

  ***

  Brendan arrived home with the intention of riding to Mortland Hall. He walked into the salon and found Chloe working on an embroidery. “Where is Eugenia?”

  “She left a note. She’s riding in the park with Lady Genie.”

  “Genie? I wasn’t aware they’d met.”

  “Mortland’s cousin called this morning and issued the invitation.”

  He took a seat beside her. “I have learned more about Mortland. What I’m about to tell you will chill you to the bone.”

  Chloe tucked her embroidery, needles, and silks into the basket. “Anything to do with that man is guaranteed to shock me.”

  “He is a murderer.” Brendan outlined what Castlebridge had told him as Chloe gasped and leaned back in her chair.

  “I can hardly believe it. Even of him.”

  “I’m about to ride into Hertfordshire to see if anyone can shine more light on the tragedy.”

  “Will that help?”

  He widened his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t see how dredging up the past will help Eugenia now.”

  “Dredging up the past? Mortland is dangerous. I need evidence to bring the law down on him.”

  “And you believe you’ll find it after almost twenty years? Don’t you think anyone who had witnessed the fire would have been put off or rendered silent?”

  “One might think so, but Mortland is arrogant and careless.”

  “There is a better way to keep Eugenia safe. I believe that is your main concern?”

  “Which is?”

  She smiled. “Marry her.”

  He stared at his sister. “Eugenia would get a bad bargain with me, even supposing she agreed to the marriage.”

  “Pooh! Why a bad bargain? Oh, I agree you have been cast low these last few years, but you are no longer, Brendan.”

  Amused, he raised his eyebrows. “Am I not?”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “You love her.”

  “My, but you are quite the oracle today.”

  “Do you deny it?”

  Drawing in a deep breath, he rose to his feet to stalk the carpet. “Eugenia deserves a Season. She needs to find her feet in her new life and meet many men before she decides on marriage. She has already begun, riding today with Genie.”

  “I never thought I’d accuse you of this. You are afraid.”

  Scowling, he swiveled to look at her. “You think me a coward?”

  “Of course not, dearest. You think yourself unworthy of love. Anne did that to you, and I can never forgive her for it.”

  He sat again and clutched his hands between his knees. “I believe I can make a woman happy in some ways, but Eugenia deserves a man with a loving heart, and mine has been severely damaged.”

  “Let her mend it. She loves you.”

  He shook his head. “She is grateful to me.”

  “Nonsense. You are quite wrong. She adores you. And why wouldn’t she? There are many women who would be thrilled to marry you, should you look their way.”

  “You flatter me.”

  “They have often told me so. Some ladies have asked me what they might do to make you notice them.” Her faint smile held a touch of sadness. “You have preferred mistresses these last two years, Brendan. And I understand why an uncomplicated relationship appeals. You need give nothing of yourself beyond the physical and a few jewels. It is easy. It’s also unfulfilling. And you are worthy of much more than that.”

  He stood. “Enough, Chloe, your husband would be rightly outraged to have you speak of my mistresses. If I want to reach Mortland Hall and be back before nightfall, I must go.”

  The door opened.

  Eugenia walked in, her cheeks pink from the fresh air. She was a golden vision from top to toe in her new habit, and his heart thudded. “Did you enjoy your first ride in Rotten Row?” He was disappointed, having wanted to introduce riding in the park to her himself.

  She smiled as she sat on the sofa. “It was such fun. All of Genie’s friends wished to be introduced. They were so welcoming! We rode along Rotten Row. With the trees screening the roads one might forget for a moment one was in the city. And my mount! I’ve never ridden such a fine big horse. What a pleasure it was.” She leveled a speaking glance at Brendan.

  He laughed. “Will I ever be forgiven for Grey Dreamer?”

  The delicate skin on her forehead crinkled. “I hate riding side-saddle though. Must I?”

  “While in Town you must, my dear,” Chloe said.

  “I supposed that is so.” Eugenia peeled off her gloves. “I like my newly discovered relative very much. Genie has invited me to come and stay with her for the Season.”

  Brendan glared. “Of all the effrontery…”

  “After I told her that I can no longer live here,” Eugenia said with an anxious glance in his direction. “Lord Beale wants Chloe to return home. There’s no good denying it, Chloe. Your husband misses you, and your children must too.” She smoothed her skirts over her knees. “And I can’t live here without a chaperone.”

  “You seem to have it all worked out,” Brendan said, in a clipped tone, ignoring Chloe’s unspoken urging, while a cold hand reached in and twisted his heart.

  “But first, I would so love to return to the country,” Eugenia said with a heavy sigh. “I want to make sure Molly is happy. I do miss her. Is that possible? Are you planning to visit Lilac Court?”

  “I imagine that can be arranged.” He decided not to tell Eugenia what he’d learned today. He was pleased to see her grow more assertive and confident, he didn’t want to cast her down. She was taking her place in society, and with her freshness and unaffected manner, she’d be much liked. But he would lose her. The thought was too painful to contemplate. He straightened his shoulders. She had brought sunshine into his life, rescued him and brought him back to himself, but it wasn’t merely gratitude he felt. He refused to let her go without trying his luck.

  “You are correct about Lord Beale, my dear, Chloe said. “What a perceptive soul you are. And I do miss my children.” “I believe I shall go and organize the packing of my tr
unk.” Chloe eyed him meaningfully as she picked up her basket of silks. “Perhaps two heads can come up with the right solution,” she said pointedly. “I shall leave you to do so.”

  The door closed behind her.

  Brendan eyed Eugenia. Did she look less certain than she’d sounded? He’d grown to recognize her mannerisms, how she chewed her full bottom lip when uneasy or forced to say something she didn’t entirely agree with. “Do you really want to live with Genie? You hardly know her.”

  She raised her chin. “I consider it a good solution to the problem. You can then take up the life you were enjoying before I came into it.”

  He thought back to his life before the day he was shot in Olverston Wood. One of vengeance and hatred, which had filled his every waking moment and poisoned his dreams. He tested his desire for revenge, having learned of Mortland’s latest villainy. He was furious and determined to make the man face the full force of the law, but he no longer was consumed by bitterness. That kick of steely determination to fight him to the death he’d come to rely on was absent. The past was losing its potency. Eugenia filled his mind and his heart. If she left this house, he would lose her. He wanted to keep her here with him. And more, he wanted to wake up with her beside him every morning for the rest of his days. Might Chloe be right? She so often was. He cleared his throat.

  Eugenia stood. “I must go and change for luncheon.”

  “Stay a moment. There is something I wish to ask you.”

  “Yes?”

  Brendan reached for her hands. “Will you marry me, Eugenia?”

  Her big eyes widened. “Why, Brendan?”

  He carefully watched the play of emotions over her face, gratified to see a trembling smile on her lovely mouth. “Because I love you.”

  “You love me?” she whispered.

  All the nagging doubts from the past slipped away as he stroked her cheek with a finger. “I love your courage, your sense of fairness, your gentle heart. I love and desire you, Eugenia. I believe I have since I opened my eyes in that farmhouse and you were there.”

  When her eyes sparkled with joy, he pulled her into his arms. “Do you think you could love me, Eugenia?”

  “I do love you.” She cradled his face in her hands. “I thought you’d never realize it. That you didn’t want me.”

  It was as if the shadows across his heart lifted. “Who in his right mind wouldn’t want you?” he muttered his voice gruff. He brought his mouth down on hers. She made a small sound in her throat, her fingers stroking the hair at his nape sparking desire and need and threatening his fierce control. His breath shortened as he claimed her soft lips in kiss after kiss. When she shyly opened her mouth for him, and her tongue and her sweet breath mingled with his, he wanted to pick her up and stride upstairs with her.

  “I hope I don’t smell of horse,” Eugenia whispered.

  “You smell like a flower garden in spring,” Brendan murmured.

  “Well this is a welcome development,” Chloe said, coming into the room. “I shall remain long enough to see you two wedded, and then I’ll depart for Beale Park.”

  “Thank you, my dear,” Brendan said, as his pounding heart slowed.

  “I shall miss you, Chloe.” Eugenia drew away from him and went to embrace her. “You have been so very kind. How can I ever repay you?”

  “My dear girl, you already have.” Chloe turned to Brendan. “Now we must plan the wedding!”

  “A small, simple ceremony if Eugenia prefers it,” Brendan said aware of his sister’s preference for extravagant affairs. Their marriage would likely shock the haute ton and be talked about for months. Not that he cared, he’d be proud to have the whole of London society witness he wedding. But he wished to protect Eugenia from anymore unpleasantness. A dark cloud still hovered over them. Mortland.

  “I must send a note to Genie with the news,” Eugenia said. “She will be surprised!”

  “Unfortunately, business takes me into the country. I may not return until late.” Brendan cast Chloe a warning glance when she opened her mouth to protest. “Would you two mind spending a quiet evening here?”

  Eugenia studied him with a worried frown. “You’ll be home before dark, Brendan?”

  “I hope to be.”

  “We can play cards,” Chloe said. “I shall teach Eugenia a few tricks.”

  “Oh no.” Brendan groaned. “I have a hard enough time holding my own as it is.”

  Chloe smiled and tactfully exited the room.

  Eugenia made to follow her, but Brendan caught her hand and pulled her back. “Don’t go yet, my love.” He drew her to him and kissed her again. Now that his future with her was assured he didn’t want to let her go. It was as if a dam had burst and pent-up emotions spilled from him, making him lightheaded. He wanted to tell her so much. But there wasn’t time. He drew away as passion swirled through his blood like fire.

  Eugenia stroked his nape. “What shall I call you in public? Trentham?”

  “It’s what you call me in private that matters more.”

  “That is easy. I shall call you darling, or Brendan when I am pleased, and Trentham when I am not,” she said with a teasing smile

  He gently flicked her cheek. “You believe I shall displease you?”

  “Rarely. I shall displease you too, but not too often, I hope,” she said, showing wisdom for her young years. She placed her arms around his neck, her soft breasts pressing against his chest. “But always, I shall love you, my darling, until the end of my life.”

  Her words sounded like a knell recalling him to his task. He pressed a brief kiss to her lips. “I must leave now, sweetheart. Promise me you will remain at home tonight.”

  She studied him, her brow creasing with unease. “I promise. You’re not about to do anything dangerous, are you Brendan? You will take care?”

  She was so perceptive this lovely girl who would soon be his wife. “Merely business my love.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  BRENDAN APPROACHED the elaborate wrought-iron gates of Mortland Hall. The sprawling stone edifice made up in size for what it lacked in charm. He pulled up his horse as the gatekeeper limped over from the gatehouse.

  The wizened fellow studied Brendan’s card. “The duke is away from home, milord.”

  “Then I am remiss. I believed His Grace had returned,” Brendan said.

  “No, my lord, but he is expected soon.”

  “I see the ivy has covered the blackened stone left by the fire,” Brendan observed. “Appalling tragedy. Apart from the two young heirs, were there many killed?”

  “Five people died. It could have been much worse, but the local fire fighters brought their cart with the hand pump and prevented the flames from spreading too far. The fire began in the nursery on the third floor. Very sad business. The children, their nurse, and two nursery maids were killed.”

  “I had heard. How did the fire start?”

  “There are several theories, but no one knows for certain. Some think an oil lamp was knocked over, but I knew those young nursery maids. They adored their charges and would not have been so careless. It was a blessing that the former duke had died of the influenza six months before. It would have broken his heart to lose his sons.”

  Brendan glanced over his shoulder to view the long, straight elm-lined approach to the Hall. No sign yet of the duke. “Indeed. You were here then I take it?”

  “Oh yes. I watched the fire with the other staff, but we could do little to help.”

  “You saw nothing to suggest it was deliberately lit?”

  The gatekeeper’s aged eyes grew hazy. He took off his hat and scratched his head. “I still go over it in my mind. There was talk at the time. A stranger was seen in the area. I couldn’t say who he was. But half the village was here trying to help.” He turned to view the road, settling his hat on his head. “I should not be discussing it. The duke would not approve. He wants the whole sad episode relegated to history. Shall you continue on to the house, milord?”


  He had hoped to steal a march on the duke. He would give Mortland a distinct advantage if he were discovered on the duke’s land. He might have better luck in the village. “Thank you no. Good day to you.” He turned his horse and rode back along the road.

  Brendan reached the crossroads and was about to take the village road, when a black coach barreled its way toward him. He edged his horse onto the grass verge, as the vehicle bearing the duke’s crest on the door panel, drew up beside him. A window opened, and Mortland’s visage appeared.

  “I’m surprised to find you visiting my estate, Trentham.”

  Brendan studied the man’s implacable face. “I’m pleased to have surprised you.”

  “Might I assist you? I gather it was me you wished to see?”

  “Not unless you’re prepared to admit that you were behind the fire at the Hall.”

  Mortland’s face reddened. “What drivel you speak. If you spread that about, I shall sue you.”

  “Too frightened to come down and face me, Mortland?”

  The duke glared. He banged with his cane. “Put down the step!”

  A footman jumped down from the back of the coach and complied.

  Mortland stepped down. “You are treading on dangerous ground, Trentham.”

  Brendan dismounted. “Tell me, when you escorted Miss Hawthorne through the streets of Mayfair, did you discover a resemblance to you? Or to her mother, Eliza, perhaps? You knew the lady intimately.”

  A muscle quivered at his jaw. “The young lady is a beauty.” He recovered himself with a sneer. “Perhaps I do want to get to know her better. Should you like that, Trentham? Or do you want to keep her for yourself?”

  Red hot anger shot surged through Brendan. He stepped forward and seized the duke’s coat in his fists hauling him closer. “Keep away from her,” Brendan growled. “I’ve killed many men during the war. Good men some of them. It won’t bother me to kill a snake.”