The Rogue's Revenge

by Lucy E. Zahnle

  "I'm so glad I could help!" Lucia returned his embrace, sister to brother.

  "Clandestine embraces! What an odd sort of assistance, ma douce!" Robin's cold drawl slashed through the couple's rapport. They jumped apart guiltily.

  Her eyes wide, Lucia stared at her husband's tall, muscular figure silhouetted against the darkness at the alcove's entrance. Although his face was in shadow, she could sense the raw fury in his steely voice and taut stance. She licked her suddenly dry lips. "We were just... that is, Lord Norworth is going to offer for Miss Lannington. I was just counseling and... and... encouraging him." Even in her own ears, the explanation rang false.

  "Most commendable," Robin sneered, entering the alcove. "But then, you are quite adept at 'encouraging' men, aren't you, my sweet?"

  "I'll not have you address the lady in such an insolent tone, Your Grace!" Peter stepped in front of Lucia. "She was merely advising me upon the best way to approach Miss Lannington."

  "If you do not know how to take a woman in your arms and propose marriage to her, my lord, I hardly think my wife is the proper person to enlighten you!" Robin growled the last words through gritted teeth as his fury broke its leash. "I'll speak to Lucia in any manner I please and you will grant me the courtesy of keeping your lecherous claws off her."

  "If you don't want another man touching your wife, Your Grace, stay at home and protect her instead of shamelessly jaunting about with every Cyprian in London!" Peter's temper was rapidly rising to meet the duke's.

  "My marriage concerns no one save Lucia and myself and I'll thank you to stay out of it!" Robin snarled.

  "It becomes my concern when Lucia is reduced to tears in public. You should be ashamed! No! More than that, by God! If I had my way, you'd be horse-whipped!"

  Lucia had been looking from one man to the other in growing dismay. They had obviously forgotten her presence as they circled each other, preparing to attack. "Gentlemen, please!" she pleaded. "Let us forget the whole incident." They seemed not to hear her as they glared at each other. She grabbed Robin's arm. "For God's sake, nothing happened!"

  He set her aside gently, but firmly. "This is no longer your affair, madame, if you'll pardon the pun," he sneered, not glancing in her direction. "You had better leave before you are hurt."

  She rushed up to Peter and touched his arm. "Please, my lord, let it go! It doesn't matter!"

  "He has insulted you for the last time, Lucia!" Norworth's dark eyes burned with avenging zeal.

  "Robin, it was all quite innocent, really! If you would only listen...!"

  "Partez!" Amberley commanded in a short, angry burst.

  Lucia stamped her foot in fury and frustration, saying, "Oh! I hope you massacre each other!" She fled the alcove to find help. Behind her, the men hurled vicious insults at each other and the sounds of a scuffle followed.

  Lucia raced back to the ballroom, forcing herself to enter at a decorous pace. Searching discreetly, but urgently for Lord Malkent, she found him within a few minutes in the card room and requested a private word. When she swiftly outlined the disaster unfolding in his garden, he said, "I shall put a stop to their brawling soon enough, Your Grace! Do you wish to come with me? Not a place for a lady, of course."

  "No!" Lucia's voice was choked with pain. "I-I don't want to go back. I just...just want to go home. If he asks, tell him I returned to Lynkellyn House, my lord." Tracy nodded, having no need to inquire which 'him' she meant.

  Fighting to hide the hurt, angry tears which threatened to engulf her, Lucia hurried away to find Lady Easterbury while Tracy, his mouth set in mulish lines, collected Sir William Blayne and stalked into the garden to confront the combatants.

  ***

  Concordia intercepted Lucia as she and her aunt said their farewells to Lady Malkent. While Lady Corinna was speaking to Valeria, Concordia pulled Lucia aside. "What did Lord Norworth say?"

  Lucia's eyes, brimming with misery, met hers. "He doesn't want me!" Concordia cried in dismay, staring at her grace's woeful face. "He told you he doesn't love me!" Tears sprang into Concordia's eyes and Lucia, having safely masked her own emotions, smiled a little as she reached out to her friend.

  "No, my dear. He loves you very much and he wants to marry you. He was ready to call Lord Mountheathe out when I found him, but I persuaded him against it."

  "Too bad! How exciting to have a duel fought over one!"

  "Exciting isn't the word I would have chosen!" Lucia said, her eyes glinting as she thought of the men she had left in the garden to tear each other apart.

  "You told him, didn't you, that I refused Lord Mountheathe?"

  "Yes, but not that you were in love with him. I leave that to you."

  "Oh, thank you, Your Grace! Thank you!" Concordia threw her arms around Lucia.

  "May God bless both of you, my dear Concordia."

  Valeria claimed Lucia's attention and Concordia strolled away, a dreamy smile on her lips. A few minutes later, Lady Easterbury and the duchess left Malkent House, sweeping, unaware, past Giles and a footman in deep conversation.

  "You will take this message to Miss Concordia Lannington and wait for an answer, then bring her reply to me." Giles pressed a coin into the servant's hand. "I shall await you here in the foyer. When you return with Miss Lannington's answer, you shall have another crown."

  The footman plainly found the entire proceeding highly irregular and his narrowing eyes caused Giles to add, "You shall have a third when you have fulfilled all my requirements."

  The prospect of such riches acquired with so little effort deadened the servant's suspicions. He bowed to Mountheathe, placed the folded letter along with quill and ink on a silver tray, and entered the ballroom.

  The footman presented the tray to Concordia, informing her that a reply was requested. She smiled as she took the note and bade the footman wait. She took her letter to a quiet corner and unfolded it with trembling fingers. The words leaped joyfully up at her.

  My dearest love,

  Meet me at the garden's rear gate at

  midnight. We have a great deal to discuss.

  Although the letter was unsigned, she was certain it must be from Peter. She beckoned the footman to her and wrote 'yes' in a firm hand at the bottom of the page.

  When the footman returned to Mountheathe, Giles opened the note and tossed the servant a coin. "One last thing and you shall have the rest of your reward. I need more paper and a messenger to take a note to Heathe House in Grosvenor Square."

  The servant brought the paper and Giles wrote a note directing his staff to pack his traveling carriage with a week's change of dress, some food and wine, his locked strongbox, and his medicine case containing vials of a strong drug he used, so he claimed, for headaches. The coach was to arrive at the mews behind Malkent House at midnight, harnessed with his bays and devoid of lights and attendants except for Madden, Giles's most trusted minion, to act as coachman.

  ***

  Finding Lynkellyn and Norworth locked in furious combat, Malkent and Blayne grabbed their arms from behind and pulled them apart. Struggling against the earl's firm grip, Robin snarled, "Damn you, Tracy, let me go! I'll not be cuckolded!"

  "If you'd treat your wife with honor, you'd have no cause to worry, sirrah!" Peter twisted against Sir William's hold.

  "You know nothing whatsoever about it, Norworth!" Robin snapped.

  Blood trickled from Amberley's lip and a large bruise darkened Norworth's jaw. Their fine clothing ripped and soiled, their intricate, silvered coiffures reduced to loose, drooping tresses with ribands askew and patches of powder rubbed away, the combatants waved bloody knuckles at each other, ready for the second round.

  "I know that you have made Her Grace miserable with your outrageous conduct and I find that unforgivable, sirrah!" Peter said.

  "Stay away from my wife, Norworth, or I vow I will run you through!" With a grunt, Robin threw off Tracy's restraining hold.

  "Your threats don't frighten me, Amberley. I consider Lucia
a very dear friend and I shall not abandon her... especially to a fiend like you!" Peter tore himself out of Blayne's grasp and took a step toward Robin, his fists clenched at his sides

  "'A dear friend'? You were embracing her, you cur! You were a heartbeat from kissing her!" Robin lunged at Peter, his long, strong fingers curling around the viscount's neck and tightening inexorably.

  The force of Robin's attack knocked Peter onto his back and Amberley fell on top of him, still squeezing his throat. Tracy and Sir William charged forward to pull Robin off his victim, each grabbing an arm.

  "This isn't the way to settle anything, Robin!" Sir William grunted as he tugged at Robin's shoulder, struggling against a demon strength born of fury and jealousy.

  Malkent pulled hard on the arm and shoulder he held. "Let go of him, Rogue! If you kill him, you'll have to flee the country to avoid trial and Lucia will be left alone to endure the advances of every Town buck who takes a fancy to her. What's more, you'll miss the birth of your child."

  Tracy's words were a splash of cold water on Robin's blazing anger. He jerked his hands away from Peter's neck and rocked back on his knees, amazed at how swiftly the sight of Lucia in another man's arms had driven him into mindless, murderous, overwhelming fury. As sanity battled through the fog of rage in his brain, he gulped air into his heaving lungs and forced his shaking hands to be still.

  Scrabbling away from Robin, Norworth gasped for air as dark purple bruises emerged to garland his white throat. "Good God, man!" he croaked. "Have you gone completely mad? We are not animals to tear each other apart with our bare hands!"

  Tracy and Sir William, satisfied that the combatants were, at present, too spent to battle, walked a little away to decide what to do with them.

  Robin glowered at Peter, his chest still heaving. "Lucia is mine, my lord! I apologize if my prior claim inconveniences the pair of you, but no matter how much she despises me, she is still my wife, do you hear? Forever!"

  "She doesn't despise you...yet," Peter said, rubbing his bruised neck, "but she will if you don't do something about this massive misunderstanding between you. You obviously love her very much. You'd not have tried to rend me limb from limb for a trifling embrace, else. For God's sake, man, tell her how you feel and once you've told her, give up your raking and go home. Show her your love before you lose her!"

  Before Robin could reply, Tracy approached them. "Let me call your carriages to take you home, gentlemen. There is a gate at the back of the garden that opens onto a mews. You may both leave that way and we can keep this whole unhappy incident a secret amongst ourselves. What say you?"

  The combatants nodded and were once again left alone to face each other as Tracy and Sir William disappeared to order the carriages.

  Peter regarded Amberley with narrowed eyes. "You're afraid, aren't you? You're terrified that Lucia will leave you!"

  Robin looked away from him. "My marriage and its attendant woes can hardly be of interest to you, my lord," he said, hanging his head wearily as his anger finally ebbed. "No doubt you will want satisfaction after what has occurred here tonight."

  As he massaged his swollen jaw, Peter stared at his companion, aware that not a word of his advice had penetrated Amberley's thick skull. With a resigned shake of his head, he said, "I'll not duel with you over this, Your Grace. You were in the right to be angry and I ask that you accept my apologies. I was holding Lucia in my arms, although I assure you our embrace was only intended in the spirit of platonic friendship. I think that, were she my wife, I would have reacted in much the same way upon such a discovery. Nevertheless, she deserves better at your hands than she's been receiving, sirrah, and if she doesn't start getting it, we will fight that duel yet."

  Malkent and Blayne returned to escort the belligerent guests to their coaches. As the carriages rolled away, Tracy pulled a handkerchief out of his sleeve and mopped his brow. "Thank God they're gone! Now we can all be comfortable again. Could I tempt you into a hand of piquet, Will?" The gentlemen strolled toward the house, inadvertently leaving the rear gate unlocked behind them.

  ***

  Giles smiled as he surveyed Malkent's open garden gate. His luck must be changing, he thought, for he had had no plan to circumvent a locked gate.

  He gazed with satisfaction at the bright, full moon which unwinkingly lit his endeavor, at the heavily laden carriage which waited in the alley outside the gate, and at the flask of drugged wine in his hand. He needed only the lady of his choice to begin his adventure.

  Soon he saw Concordia coming down the path, her pale green gown glowing in the moonlight. She looked so like Val that Giles's heart stirred with adoration. Then she grew nearer, her emerald eyes lit with happy expectation, and his fantasies vanished. He stepped out of the shadows with a welcoming smile. "Miss Lannington! What a surprise!"

  "Lord Mountheathe! What are you doing here?" she said, embarrassed to see him so soon after their last disastrous encounter.

  He stared at her pointedly. "I needed to seek some solitude to mend my devastated heart. And you?"

  She twirled her sapphire bracelet around and around on her wrist, staring at its' moonlit sparkle. "I am come to meet..." She halted, aware that it was highly improper to meet any man clandestinely and extremely stupid to admit one's intention of doing so. "...Miss Saddewythe," she ended lamely.

  "I'm certain she will be along presently." Giles pulled out his flask of drugged brandy. "I'm a bit thirsty. Do you mind?"

  She shook her head, her powdered curls dancing, ghost-like, in the moonlight. He brought the flask to his lips, then hesitated and lowered it. "You seem agitated, Miss Lannington. Is anything wrong?"

  Concordia smiled uncertainly, wishing he would leave, wishing Peter would appear, wishing... She gave a slight, sad shrug. Perhaps she had misread the viscount's intentions.

  "Would you care for a some brandy? I know it isn't the usual thing for young ladies, but it is quite warming. It will put heart into you!" Giles waved the flask at her invitingly.

  Concordia peered back along the path she had traveled, straining for a glimpse of Peter. She'd not brought her cloak for fear it would arouse suspicion and she was chilly. Perhaps a sip of brandy just to fortify her wouldn't be amiss. She accepted Giles's flask and drank deeply of its fiery contents. Coughing and spluttering, she returned it to him, thanking him brokenly for his kindness.

  A moment later, much to Concordia's suddenly bleary-eyed amazement, Giles's head appeared to swell and contract. Then it swirled around until his countenance split into six distinct faces, spinning as if they were part of a carousel. Her legs went limp of their own accord and she collapsed into his arms.

  He carried her through the gate to the coach, assuring her all the while that she was perfectly safe, that they were going to Gretna Green to be married, and that he was the only man in the world for her.

  Concordia swooned, overwhelmed, no doubt, by her good fortune.

  Chapter 24:

  In Which Her Grace Disappears

  When Robin arrived at Lynkellyn House, he found Lucia in the Rose Salon, pacing restlessly. Her back to the door, she did not see him enter. Despite his anger, he paused to drink in her beauty; to revel in the shimmering softness of her hair, the alabaster column of her throat, the enticing swell of her breasts. He yearned to take her in his arms and kiss her until she forgot Norworth's very existence. As she turned toward him, he steeled his heart and glared.

  Her eyes widening, she stared at his bloody lip, torn, soiled clothes, and general disarray. "Wh-what happened to you?"

  "I had a dust-up with your lover! I suggest that you refrain from publicly embracing your 'dear Lord Peter', Lucia, if you don't want him spitted on my blade!"

  "He is not my lover!" She stamped her foot in frustration.

  "Tiens, then he damned soon will be, judging from what I witnessed tonight!"

  "You are a fine one to accuse me of infidelity, Your Grace, especially since I am innocent while you..." a sob of hurt and a
nger made her words tremble "you have been flouting our marriage vows with every bit o' muslin that strikes your unholy fancy!"

  "Marriage vows? Marriage vows! Mon Dieu, but that's rich! I am amazed that you dare to denounce me, madame, since you effectively dismissed our vows a fortnight ago when you banished me from your bed. You'd welcome me quick enough, I'll wager, if I were your precious Lord Peter!"

  Lucia threw her hands up, confounded. "Peter is a friend; nothing more! Why won't you believe me? What reason have I to lie?"

  "What reason have you to tell me the truth?"

  Their eyes locked in fury. Lucia tore her gaze away at last, saying, "Good night, Your Grace."

  She tried to push past him, but he captured her wrist and stared into her indignant eyes. "Are you in love with Norworth, Lucia? Is that why you have denied me my conjugal rights?"

  "No, I am not! And you stole those rights when you forced me to the altar. I have conceived your child. My duty is done and I have rescinded your alleged rights."

  "I don't need your consent, you know. I can bed you any time I wish...by force, if necessary, and no one will condemn me, dearly beloved wife." His grip on her wrist tightened.

  "But you won't."

  "Why not?" He lifted a brow. "Have you forgotten our past?"

  "You are more of a gentleman than you are willing to admit, Robin. Have you not left my bed, left me in peace just as I asked? I am under your protection and honor dictates that you abide by my wishes." Her quiet assurance belied the murmurs of doubt and fear that rumbled through her mind. Ignoring the pressure of his fingers on her wrist, her eyes met his confidently. After a moment, he looked away.

  "I am certain you enjoyed conceiving our child as much as I enjoyed siring it." He changed his tack roughly.

  Lucia blushed, staring at his hand curled around her wrist. "You are mistaken, sir."

  "Am I, Lucia?" Robin tilted her face up to his with his free hand. His smoky eyes held hers and delved deeply into her soul, endeavoring to unlock secrets she dared not reveal to him.