The Rogue's Revenge

by Lucy E. Zahnle

  "But, Nigel..." Lady Saddewythe pleaded.

  "We like Miss Twyll, Papa! Almost as much as Cothy! We want her to stay!" Arabella begged tearfully, speaking for all the children.

  "Where shall I go, my lord, without a reference or..."

  "I neither know nor care, miss, but I want you to collect your things and leave Saddewythe House immediately."

  "You shall stay here, Miss Twyll," Robin announced from the doorway of the Blue Salon. "Her Grace needs a companion. Would you be interested in the post?"

  "But I have no reference, Your Grace!"

  "You saved Her Grace's life. That is all the reference I require." Robin smiled at her and she found herself trusting him, despite all the wicked tales she had heard.

  "Very well," she said, spurred by her sudden, desperate need to find a new situation quickly as well as Lynkellyn's charm and generosity.

  "Laddock!" Robin called to the butler, who hovered nearby. "Show Miss Twyll to a bedchamber."

  "I'll send your things over," Saddewythe growled at Miss Twyll's back as she followed Laddock up the stairs.

  Returning to the foyer, Dr. Lindley paused to survey the still chaotic scene as Saddewythe glared at the duke. "You have a positive penchant for poaching my governesses, sirrah, but you'll have to raid someone else's schoolroom for your next trophy. As of today, I'm sending my children away to school!" Saddewythe shooed his family before him out of Lynkellyn House. Forgotten, the dog barked at the closing door, then yelped when Saddewythe reached back in and pulled him out by one ear.

  As the door slammed, Robin loosed a pent up howl of mirth. "Poaching governesses! That's rich, n'est ce pas?" he asked the doctor.

  "I don't understand how you can laugh, Your Grace. It is a miracle Her Grace wasn't killed today. Now, her bandages must be changed at least three times a day and I recommend a sennight's bedrest so that we can be certain the baby suffered no ill effects from her fall."

  "It shall be done, Doctor."

  "A few days in bed will suffice for your groom, I think. Miss Twyll will be fine, but her head will hurt for awhile and the bruising around her eye will take a long time to fade. Now then! What was it you wanted of me this morning?"

  "-wanted of you-?"

  "I received a request from you yesterday to call this morning," Lindley said, irritated.

  Robin looked down at the walking stick clutched in his hand and remembered his determination to be rid of it. "I wanted to talk to you and Giovanni about my recovery. I am weary of this devilish cane. I want to walk without assistance again, doctor, and I want to start working toward that goal immediately."

  "In a fortnight, you could, perhaps, take one or two steps, but it's too early to be thinking of giving up your cane, Your Grace. Your leg may not be properly healed."

  "We'll start today, Lindley! I want to dance with Lucia at Lady Malkent's ball, assuming, naturellement, that she has regained her health."

  "She will probably be able to dance, but I can't guarantee that you'll be healed," Lindley said. "These things take time, Your Grace!"

  "I've given natural healing all the time I can spare. Between you and Giovanni, I intend to be rid of this hideous crutch..." Amberley thumped his cane disgustedly against the floor "...as soon as possible."

  "Giovanni, Your Grace?"

  "My fencing master. With your knowledge, my own experience, and his strength, I intend to practice walking; to force my damaged leg to work again. 'Tis a healing trick I stumbled upon some years ago, when, injured and alone, I was faced with the necessity of caring for myself. Let us go into the library and I'll explain it to you. Un moment, s'il vous plâit?" Robin sent Laddock to summon Giovanni.

  The men were closeted in the library for an hour. Dr. Lindley came out of this audience unconvinced, but resigned. Behind him, Giovanni and Robin enthusiastically discussed the idea. "Nine o'clock tomorrow morning, then, gentlemen," Robin reminded his guests as he escorted them to the door.

  When they were gone, Robin climbed the stairs to the rhythm of his despised cane, his worried mind upon Lucia. Guilt washed over him as he contemplated how close she had come to death while he was sleeping cozily in Clarissa Chalfont's rose-scented bed. He should have been home to protect her instead of seeking a liaison which had ultimately filled him with disgust. Shoulders sagging, he headed to his lady's chambers.

  Overlooked in all the excitement, Norworth left the Blue Salon when he heard Lynkellyn climbing the stairs. Wanting to speak to the duke, Peter followed him, reaching the second floor just as Robin entered a room at the end of the hall. The viscount strode toward the open door, stopping on the threshold to peer into the room.

  Sitting beside Lucia's bed, Robin tenderly cradled the sleeping woman's hand, his eyes glistening with tears. He brought her palm to his lips and gently brushed a dusky lock of hair from her face.

  Feeling infinitely de trop, Norworth would have departed quietly, but Robin sensed his presence and looked up. "Are you still here?"

  "I need to talk to you, Your Grace," Peter said in a hushed voice. "'Tis of great importance."

  Robin turned Lucia's limp hand over in his, entwining his fingers with hers. "I thank you for rescuing Lucia and bringing her home. For that, I am in your debt, but we have nothing else to discuss."

  "This-" Peter nodded at the sleeping duchess "-is another score to settle with Mountheathe, is it not? Another nail in his coffin, as it were?" Robin stared at him. "You will not regret granting me an audience, Your Grace."

  Tucking the blankets around Lucia, Robin grabbed his cane and rose. "très bien," he sighed. "Shall we go to the library?"

  ***

  As Robin handed him a glass of claret, Norworth said, "I am aware that you have taken me in dislike, Your Grace, but I believe we have a common interest."

  "Besides my wife?"

  "Ain't saying I didn't attempt to pursue her Your Grace... Diamond of the first water, after all! But she'd have none of me. You're a devilish lucky man, especially considering the way you were cavorting with La Chalfont last night."

  "Ah!" Robin smiled. "We come to the heart of our 'discussion'. You may have Clarissa with my blessing, my lord. A more irritating woman I have yet to meet."

  "She seems to have taken a definite liking to you, though!" Peter grinned.

  "Ah, well," Robin shrugged. "Whores will bend to money, héin?"

  "La Chalfont is no ladybird of mine," Norworth confessed. "I only pursued her to provoke Mountheathe!"

  Robin laughed. "I only pursued her to provoke Mountheathe...and you!"

  Peter leaned forward. "You and I have a common enemy in Giles Bridland, Your Grace! I want to see him crushed as much as you do!"

  Robin arched a brow. "Crushed? What can he have done to provoke such savagery?"

  Peter ran his hands through his unpowdered ebony locks, loosening strands of hair from the satin riband at the nape of his neck. "The story I am about to tell you is extremely private, Your Grace. I trust that the tale will go no further than this room?" His eyes met Robin's with earnest intensity. "Normally, I wouldn't confide in a man who...well, we do seem to have been at daggers drawn from the moment we met, Your Grace!...but when you corner Mountheathe, I want...indeed, I deserve...to be in at the kill."

  "You may rely on my absolute discretion, my lord. I am puzzled, however, at your conclusions concerning my plans, if any, for Mountheathe's future."

  "Don't gammon me, Your Grace! You're hunting him. I can see it in your eyes. You're watching for a chance to revenge yourself upon him if it can be done with honor. And he's most certainly hunting you...and Her Grace...in the most literal sense, hiring cutthroats and attacking women like the damned coward he is!"

  Robin's icy gaze met the younger man's. "Are you suggesting, in the midst of all this impassioned babble, that Mountheathe orchestrated this attempt on Lucia's life?" His lazy drawl belied the fury and malice that danced in his eyes.

  "Orchestrated!" Norworth laughed grimly. "The man tried to do t
he filthy deed himself! Recognized his horse, a black stallion with a white mane and tail, as he galloped away. There's only one like it in Town. Mountheathe fancies it makes him stand out amongst the Tulips." He snorted. "Angel's wings couldn't improve that scum."

  "If you despise Mountheathe so much, my lord, why don't you call him out on some pretext, best him, and have done?"

  "I can't call him out because it would cause my family, particularly my sister, too much distress," Peter said. Robin poured him more wine and he took a healthy swallow. "I became friends with Giles about six years ago and invited him to spend the summer at Sandhaven Abbey. Eustacia, my sister, had just turned thirteen."

  "One afternoon, perhaps a week after Mountheathe's arrival, I sought him out to propose a fishing expedition. I discovered him in the boathouse with my sister. He...he was holding her down on a bench with his knee on her chest. One hand was at her throat while the other fumbled at his breeches. Though she'd fought him with all her might, her face and body were bloody, her clothes were practically ripped to shreds, and she was about to lose the struggle when I walked in and pulled him off her."

  "Eustacia was hysterical. Seems 'kind Lord Giles' had offered to take her rowing on the lake, but had assaulted her instead. I showed him the door immediately and have been barely civil to him since. I'd relish handing him the cut-direct with all my heart, but I daren't do even that, let alone issue him the challenge he deserves, because an explanation would be required. Poor Eustacia's reputation would be ruined, innocent though she is, and she would never be able to make a good marriage."

  Norworth gulped his claret, set it down, and ran his hands through his ebony locks a second time. "Since that fiend's attack, fear haunts Eustacia's eyes. She hides when gentlemen visit at Sandhaven. She even cringes when I reach out to her."

  "We had planned to bring her out last year, but Eustacia begged and pleaded so tearfully that Mama postponed it." His eyes darkened angrily. "At nineteen, she should be enjoying her first London Season, dashing the hopes of a long line of beaus, and anticipating a brilliant marriage. Instead, she is terrified of her come-out; painfully shy and tongue-tied in company; and repulsed by what little she knows of men and the intimacies of marriage."

  Peter downed the last of his claret. "All that my sister's suffering if this ugly story ever comes to light is owing to that unprincipled beast, Mountheathe. I can't punish him myself as I would like, but I still want to be there to applaud when you bring him to his knees."

  Robin gazed into the sparkle of his wine. "You are trusting me a with great deal, Norworth. Aren't you afraid I'll betray you? Blackmail you, perhaps?"

  Peter shook his head. "Believe it or not, Your Grace, I think that a man of honor is hiding behind that wall of fury and defiance you show the world. You have promised that you will keep my secret. I'll accept your word."

  Robin snorted. "Obviously, Lucia hasn't told you enough or you would know that I am not a great one for keeping promises."

  "Are you referring to your insistence that she remain with you to help raise your child?" Peter ignored Robin's glare. "Can't set her free, can you? Your head is telling you to let her go, but your heart is demanding that she stay...and your heart is winning!" he grinned. "I have been in love, old man! Not terminally, thank God, but I know how it is."

  Robin's eyes were granite, his voice sharp as a rapier. "Mon Dieu! Don't prattle to me of love! I merely believe that a child needs its mother and 'tis Lucia's duty to assume her maternal responsibilities."

  "Proper sentiments, indeed, in a marriage of convenience...if that's what you have, Your Grace!" Peter rose and extended his hand. Robin accepted it hesitantly, uncertain whether he was facing friend or foe. "If I may be of any assistance in your cousin's ruin, you will let me know, won't you? Good day, Your Grace."

  Peter left Lynkellyn House, his mind still upon the Amberleys. If ever two people belonged together, he mused, the Duke and Duchess of Lynkellyn were that couple. Her grace's budding love for her husband crept into every word she uttered, in spite of her vehement insistence that she despised him.

  His grace was no better with his constant and patently false denial of all save his own selfish interests. Peter had never seen a man fight so desperately to keep his heart intact and fail so dismally, all the while refusing to admit defeat.

  Perhaps it would ease the tedium of yet another Season to play cupid for the newlyweds when he could. Between that and cutting out Mountheathe with Miss Lannington, he should be able to keep himself tolerably entertained.

  Chapter 21:

  In Which His Grace Seeks Pleasure and Her Grace Seeks Solace

  When Lucia came out of the sickroom a week later, a large stack of gilt-edged invitations awaited her. "There are so many of them!" she said to Valeria and Amaryllis over tea. "Robin and I never expected..."

  Amaryllis laughed. "The ton can be very forgiving of those who are titled, my dear, but the war is not yet won. A great many influential people are still reluctant to acknowledge either of you. That is why you and Robin must go about and be seen in Town as much as you can...and return those calls!" Ryl tapped her dainty finger on a pile of calling cards next to the invitations. "You will not win anyone to your side if you hide at home."

  Robin appeared in the doorway, leaning on his cane. Bowing to the ladies, he said to Lucia, "Are you ready for our drive in the park, ma chérie,"

  Roses tinged Lucia's cheeks and pleasure lit her eyes. She glanced at the mantle clock, saying, "Is it that late already?"

  Valeria rose. "We must take our leave, Lucia. Did you receive your invitations to Concordia's ball next week? May we expect you?"

  Lucia glanced at Robin and he nodded. "Yes, indeed!" she beamed. "I will send our formal acceptance to you this afternoon."

  Robin bowed as the ladies left, then limped into the room. "Ryl is correct for once. We shall have to accept a great many of these. The only way to overcome scandal is to brazen it out. I wish I'd known that when I was twenty," he said, flipping casually through the cards and invitations. "Lucia! Half of these cards are from men and the house is overflowing with flowers. I hope that, in the midst of all this adulation, you will not forget your marriage vows."

  Lucia lowered her eyes to hide her anger. Would he ever trust her? 'Will you ever trust him?' asked a small voice in her heart. She could not possibly imagine doing that.

  ***

  A playful breeze whipped the hood of Lucia's driving cloak off her dark tresses as Robin coaxed his carriage into the slow stream of traffic circling the park. Almost immediately, elegant people surrounded them, suddenly eager to strengthen their social standing with the new Duke of Lynkellyn. Men gravitated to Lucia's side of the carriage, their conversation flirtatious and suggestive. Innuendo and double entendre soared about her like grapeshot on a battlefield.

  Seeing the leering grins, speculative glances, and knowing smirks, Robin's jaw hardened. These 'gentlemen' were treating Lucia as if she were no better than a Drury Lane tart. Mountheathe's work, that!

  Robin wanted to call every one of the filthy jackanapes to account, but he suppressed that desire, ruthlessly quelling his temper as Norworth's carriage drew up beside him. The others took their leave as Lucia smiled at Peter and his passenger, Concordia. Norworth leaned across the coach doors to pat Lucia's hand. "I'm glad to see you're out, Lucia! The fresh air will do you a world of good!"

  "I want to thank you, my lord, for coming to my rescue. If it were not for you and Miss Twyll, I...I might not be here."

  "Happy to be of service, Your Grace. Do we look for you at Miss Lannington's ball?" Peter looked down at Concordia with unmistakable warmth.

  Robin watched Lucia's face glow with pleasure as she spoke to Norworth. Peter touched her hand and a familiar fury burned in the duke's heart. Forcing a polite smile, he quirked an eyebrow when Lucia addressed him. "Peter has made a dreadful faux pas, Robin!"

  "Dreadful, indeed!" Concordia said, her eyes laughing. "I have almost decide
d to cut his acquaintance."

  "You appear to have put yourself beyond the Pale, my lord!" Robin said. "What dastardly deed have you committed to merit such ignominy?"

  Norworth smiled a little sheepishly. "When I called on Miss Lannington to take her for a drive this afternoon, I asked her to save the first dance at her ball for me and she graciously agreed."

  "You seem to have acquitted yourself honorably thus far," Robin allowed.

  "Yes, but just now I asked Her Grace for the same favor and within Miss Lannington's hearing. Alas! I have proven myself at best a fool and at worst a villain!"

  "And now neither of us shall dance with him," Concordia said.

  "I could not, in any case, for I am already pledged to Robin for the first set." Lucia touched Robin's arm lightly, her eyes begging him to corroborate her extemporaneous lie. "However, my lord, I will save the second dance for you and you have an entire sennight in which to restore yourself to your former place in Miss Lannington's esteem."

  "I shall toil without rest, Miss Lannington, to thaw your heart and secure my dance with you," Norworth swore, one hand on his heart, as he tried without total success to banish the laughter from his eyes.

  Concordia tapped his hand with a glove she had doffed earlier. "See that you do!"

  "And you, Your Grace!" Peter grinned at Lucia once more. "I offended you as well, did I not? Shall you have His Grace call me to account for my insolence?"

  Lucia's lips tightened. "Dueling is not a joking matter, my lord!" she said in icy tones that caused Peter to stare at her in surprise.

  He quickly recovered himself. "Of course, you are right, Your Grace. Perhaps a sacrifice of my time to your whim would be more appropriate."

  "Much," Lucia dimpled. "I have several small errands and a visit to a circulating library planned for tomorrow. I would welcome some company."

  "Done!" Norworth glanced at Lynkellyn, encountering the familiar glare of hostility, swiftly veiled, in the older man's eyes. He abruptly returned his attention to Concordia. "Shall we drive on, Miss Lannington? Good day to you both." Nodding, Peter carefully pulled his coach out into the press of traffic. Robin followed him.