Rapture Becomes Her

by Shirlee Busbee

  Under questioning, Walker had also relayed to Jeffery the news of the visit by the ladies to Lord Joslyn’s room this morning—which pleased him enormously. It was encouraging that Emily and Lord Joslyn were circling each other’s orbit. He frowned. But it would have been better, Jeffery thought, if he could have arranged for Emily to be discovered in Lord Joslyn’s room, without a chaperone, even better in his lordship’s bed. . . . Hmmm. Smiling, Jeffery set about concocting various scenarios that would see Lord Joslyn’s ring on Emily’s finger . . . whether either one of them wanted it or not.

  The only person not happy with the current situation was Ainsworth. He was annoyed by the excited reaction of the household to Joslyn’s arrival; even that cretin Jeffery, he thought annoyed, was over the moon about it. With the abduction of Anne in the offing, Ainsworth viewed Joslyn’s presence in the second best bedroom as a complication they didn’t need. Hugh’s sudden appearance was equally displeasing, and though certain of the outcome, he was aware that Jeffery’s younger brother might provide some competition for the fair Anne’s hand. It would be such a pity if her fancy fell upon young Hugh. . . . A cruel expression crossed his face. Ainsworth wasn’t about to let a fortune slip through his fingers because of a recalcitrant female—even if her heart was given to another. He was determined that the young widow was going to be his bride. And soon, he thought, pleasurably aware of a thrumming in his loins when he pictured her naked and helpless before him.

  Lamb was able to stall a visit with Barnaby from Jeffery until late afternoon and inevitably Jeffery brought along his friend Mr. Ainsworth. Refreshed after a nap and a meal of rare sirloin, yellow farm cheese and chunks of bread still warm from the oven, all washed down with some excellent ale, Barnaby insisted upon meeting his guests while seated in the high-back chair in front of the fireplace. Jeffery introduced Ainsworth and each man took a chair on either side of Barnaby.

  Barnaby disliked Ainsworth on sight, recognizing him for the Captain Sharp he was. He may not have spent many months in London, but Barnaby had seen more than one loose fish like Ainsworth during his stay in the capital city. Creatures like Ainsworth might have some claim to respectability, but they spent their days in the gaming halls and whorehouses, looking to pluck the unwary or hanging about the fringes of the ton hoping for notice.

  Jeffery’s manner grated on Barnaby, but Ainsworth’s superior air, as if he knew a special secret not shared with lesser mortals, made Barnaby want to plant him a facer.

  “I’m pleased to see you looking better, my lord,” said Jeffery. “I assume that my staff is treating you well?” He tittered. “Of course, my servants are not the caliber of those you have at Windmere, but I trust that you will overlook their shortcomings.”

  Barnaby stared at him long enough to make Jeffery squirm in his chair, before saying coolly, “I could not ask for better service. Walker has been most helpful and your Mrs. Spalding is an excellent cook.” Barnaby smiled, showing a great many teeth. “If you don’t appreciate them, be careful—someone might steal them away from you.”

  “That’s not likely,” Jeffery said carelessly. “They’d never leave my cousin. Devoted to her.” He looked arch. “Speaking of my cousin, I understand that she paid you a visit this morning. I hope you found her company agreeable.”

  Barnaby inclined his head politely. “Yes, I did—as I did that of your great-aunt and young Mrs. Townsend who accompanied her.”

  “Taking thing, the little widow, ain’t she?” Ainsworth commented, entering the conversation for the first time. Not wanting Joslyn to get any ideas and determined to make the situation clear, he added, “We mean to make a match of it.”

  Barnaby hid his astonishment. Good God! Emily’s charming stepmother married to this bounder? It was inconceivable.

  “Er, is this a recent development?” Barnaby asked, grappling with the idea that the gentle young woman he’d met and liked enormously would stoop to marry someone of Ainsworth’s stamp. “I’m surprised she made no mention of an impending wedding.”

  An unattractive flush marred Ainsworth face. “Nothing’s settled yet,” he admitted. Stiffly, he declared, “I mean to make her my bride within the fortnight.”

  Jeffery jumped in, saying airily, “There are only a few details to work out before the announcement. My aunt Anne is being quite shy about the whole thing.” He winked at Barnaby. “You know women. She doesn’t want anyone to know just yet, so let it be our secret.”

  Looking from one man to the other, Barnaby had the ugly suspicion that the marriage to Ainsworth was also a secret from the intended bride. There was mischief afoot here or he was a blind man. Aloud he merely said, “Your cousin and your great-aunt will undoubtedly be sad to see Mrs. Townsend leave. They appeared to be quite fond of each other.”

  Jeffery waved a dismissing hand. “Oh, naturally, but I’m sure they’ll be happy to see her settled and in her own home.”

  Ainsworth smirked. “I’m coming into a great deal of money before long—it’s time I set up my nursery. I intend to keep my wife busy filling it.”

  Finding the conversation increasingly distasteful, and already weary of this pair of jackals, Barnaby lifted a hand, summoning Lamb who hovered in the background. “My cordial, if you please, Lamb. My head is aching.”

  Ainsworth took the hint and rose to his feet saying, “It has been a pleasure meeting you, my lord.” He paused and ever hopeful of an easy mark, he added, “When you are feeling more the thing, if you like, we can play some cards to help you pass the time. I’m sure it is quite boring being confined to the sickroom.”

  The black eyes unreadable, Barnaby murmured, “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t care much for cards.”

  Ainsworth shrugged and took his leave.

  Once Ainsworth was gone, Jeffery bent forward and said confidingly, “Good thing you don’t play—Ainsworth is well known in all the best clubs in London and devilishly lucky when it comes to cards.”

  Barnaby doubted that Ainsworth had entrée into any respectable club, much less the “best” ones, but he kept that thought to himself. “Really? Then I shall congratulate myself on a near escape,” he said dryly. Lamb handed Barnaby a small glass filled with a red liquid. After sipping it, Barnaby sighed and closed his eyes.

  Reluctantly, Jeffery rose to his feet. “I shall leave you now, my lord, but if there is anything you wish for, you have only say the word. . . .”

  Not opening his eyes, Barnaby said, “Thank you. You and your family have been most kind to a stranger. If not for your gallant cousin, I’m certain I would not be feeling as well as I do. I am indebted to her . . . and you.”

  “Think nothing of it! Emily is an, ah, unusual woman,” Jeffery said. “Getting a bit long in the tooth,” he added, “but if she caught the fancy of the right man . . .”

  “Indeed.” Barnaby should have left it there, but since he was curious about Emily, he wasn’t above pumping her cousin for information. Hoping Jeffery would take the hint and reveal more about his enticing cousin, he murmured, “I’m surprised that she is not married.”

  Encouraged, Jeffery sat back down. “Surprises me, too,” Jeffery said mendaciously, suppressing the thought that only a fool would marry a strong-willed, sharp-tongued shrew like his cousin. While the idea dazzled him, Jeffery didn’t truly believe that a man of Joslyn’s wealth and standing would willingly lower himself to marry the penniless daughter of a country squire. Joslyn could look as high as he wanted for a bride, but even knowing that it was a desperate dream, Jeffery wasn’t ready to give up on it. Dreams did come true and who was to say this one wouldn’t? Stranger things had happened. But his lordship, he admitted bitterly, would have to be tricked into offering Emily marriage. If only he could get Emily into Joslyn’s bed. . . .

  A calculating glitter in his blue eyes, Jeffery said carefully, “Of course, I doubt these days that Emily longs for marriage.” He stared down at his gleaming boots and said, “Speaking man to man, at her age, I wouldn’t be su
rprised if she wouldn’t be willing to settle for something else . . . something of a more temporary nature—if she caught the fancy of the right man, I could persuade her . . .”

  It was a good thing that Jeffery wasn’t looking at Barnaby or he’d have realized he’d just blundered, badly. Barnaby’s whole body stiffened, disgust and fury raging through him. He could hardly believe his ears. Emily’s cousin, the man entrusted with her protection, was offering her to him with all the finesse of a pandering whoremonger! Blinded by rage, it wasn’t until he felt Lamb’s hand pressing down urgently on his shoulder that Barnaby realized he had half risen to his feet.

  Only when he was certain that Barnaby had some command over himself did Lamb remove his hand. His eyes on Jeffery, Lamb coughed and murmured, “My lord wearies easily. I think it would be best if you left and allowed him to rest.”

  Oblivious to having just escaped with his life, Jeffery looked up from his contemplation of his boots. “Oh, what? Yes, yes, of course.” Standing, Jeffery smiled at Barnaby, not seeing the dangerous glitter in the black eyes. “I have enjoyed our visit, my lord,” he said politely. Meaningfully, he added, “And as I said earlier, should you desire anything, you have only to say the word.”

  “Thank you,” Barnaby said from between clenched teeth, struggling against the savage urge to get his hands around Jeffery’s throat. “I won’t forget our conversation.”

  Shown to the door by the intimidating Lamb, Jeffery hummed to himself as he walked away. That went rather well, he thought. If Joslyn wanted Emily in his bed, if Jeffery had to drug her, she’d damn well be there. He giggled. And won’t Joslyn be surprised, after it is too late, when I appear and demand he marry her . . .? Things were definitely looking up.

  The door had hardly shut behind Jeffery before Barnaby swore. “Christ! Did you hear that weasel? Just as if she was a harlot in his stables, he did everything but name a price for her services.”

  “Hmmm. Yes, he was rather, ah, blunt in his approach, wasn’t he?” Lamb murmured, deftly guiding Barnaby with his hand under his elbow toward the bed.

  Barnaby threw off his hand and snarled, “I am not an invalid! I only wanted to get rid of the piece of offal before I killed him.”

  “There is a positive side to all of this,” Lamb said, watching Barnaby stride over to stand in front of the fireplace.

  A dangerous expression on his face, Barnaby swung around and stared at him. “Be careful, dear Lamb,” he warned, in a voice Lamb seldom heard. “I am in no mood to hear one of your quips.” When Lamb shrugged and would have turned away, Barnaby sighed and said in his more usual tones, “Oh, out with it!”

  Relieved that the worst of Barnaby’s temper had abated, he said lightly, “I was just thinking after that most enlightening conversation with her cousin, when you ask for her hand, you have no fear of being denied.”

  Barnaby laughed without amusement. “Yes, there is that,” he agreed. Staring moodily down at the fire, he said, “You were right—staying here wasn’t such a good idea.” Ruefully, he added, “I can hardly court the elusive baggage when I am confined to my room, and if I am well enough to wander through the house there is no reason to remain here.”

  “But?”

  Scowling, Barnaby admitted, “I had thought of returning to Windmere tomorrow, but after meeting Ainsworth and hearing that he means to marry the younger Mrs. Townsend, I am uneasy.” His lips tightened. “And Jeffery’s ugly offer makes me disinclined to leave Emily to his tender devices. Either woman for that matter.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  Wearily, Barnaby said, “Stay where we are for the time being.” He cast Lamb a questioning look. “During your, er, travels in the house, did you learn anything?”

  “Actually, I did. Apparently, there is another guest in the house—Hugh Townsend, Jeffery’s younger brother.”

  “Oh, God! Never tell me she’s related to two of those despicable creatures?”

  Lamb smiled. “No. Hugh appears to be very different from his older brother and is held in high esteem by the staff. He’s also a great favorite with the ladies. The universal opinion amongst the staff is that it is a shame that Hugh hadn’t been the older of the two brothers.”

  “And he’s here now?”

  “Yes. Arrived just before the ladies came to visit you.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not much more, I’m afraid. I’m a stranger, so no one shared any intimate details with me,” Lamb admitted. “I got the impression, though, that they tolerate Jeffery, but to the man, or woman, they would die for the ladies of the house.” Lamb frowned. “Some things didn’t need explaining. For a house this size, there is a minimal staff employed. Signs of obvious penury are not yet obvious, but it’s clear that nothing has been done to the house in perhaps a decade.”

  “Jeffery’s stewardship?”

  Lamb nodded. “In a matter of seven years or so, the new squire has gone through a respectable fortune and now teeters on the brink of ruin—that much Mrs. Spalding was blunt about.” He grinned. “She was far more forthcoming than Walker, having taken a liking to me. Other than that, I overheard a few disapproving comments about someone named Daggett. He’s the bailiff Jeffery hired when he inherited the estate. I gather the man has been pilfering off funds and putting them in his own pocket.” Lamb looked thoughtful. “There’s something else going on, but I’m not certain precisely what it is. What I do know is that your Amazon has found a way to provide the servants with extra funds. The scullery maid let something slip that brought a sharp rebuke from Walker and the conversation was changed rather hastily. Despite some expert wheedling on my part, even Mrs. Spalding wouldn’t give me a hint.”

  Barnaby let out a deep breath. “You learned a great deal and Hugh’s presence may be helpful. Knowing that the staff is in Emily’s camp eases my mind somewhat.”

  Lamb had given Barnaby a great deal to think about and long after Lamb had left the room to see what else he could learn, Barnaby stood staring down into the fire. He liked little of what he had learned, but it explained things and he now knew why the cousin of the local squire was involved with a band of smugglers. She was risking her reputation and possibly her life to keep her small band of loyal followers and Anne and Cornelia from utter ruin. He suspected the same applied to Mrs. Gilbert and her charming daughters and Lord knew whom else.

  Barnaby smiled. Lamb was more right than he knew in calling Emily an Amazon. And all I have to do, he told himself, is convince her that I am not the enemy . . . and a worthy mate. He shook his head, ruefully suspecting the latter was going to be the most difficult task of all. But the rewards . . . the rewards would make it all worthwhile.

  Chapter 11

  While Lamb was reporting to Barnaby, Hugh was tapping on the door to Cornelia’s rooms. They’d decided upon meeting in Cornelia’s rooms because unlike Emily, she had a suite, comprising a large sitting room and bedroom.

  The three ladies were waiting for him and once the door shut behind him and was locked by Emily, Cornelia wasted no time in laying out her plan.

  Hugh had hardly taken a seat beside her on the ivory-and-rose tapestry-upholstered settee before she said, “I want you to take Anne with you to Parkham House and keep her there until it is safe for her to return here.”

  Ignoring Anne’s shocked gasp, and not as surprised as he would have been without Emily’s warning, Hugh nodded. “Emily told me what Jeffery and Ainsworth plan. She suspected you wanted me here in order to take Mrs. Townsend away. When do you want us to leave? Tomorrow?”

  “Am I the only one who didn’t know what was planned?” Anne asked in a small voice, feeling just the slightest bit hurt that she had been excluded from plans that intimately involved her. Even if their intentions were good, she hadn’t even been consulted and that stung. Suppose, she thought resentfully, she didn’t want to go to Parkham House?

  Anne and Emily were sitting directly across from Cornelia and Hugh on an identical settee and E
mily clasped Anne’s hand and said quickly, “I didn’t know either, but Hugh’s arrival was too timely for me not to suspect something of this sort. Once I thought about it, there was only one conclusion: Cornelia had sent for him and there could be only one reason why she wanted him here.”

  “Oh!” Anne’s hurt and resentment vanished, but she wasn’t so certain that she wanted to be thrust into the home of someone she knew only slightly. Although Anne had met them upon more than one occasion, Hugh Townsend and his mother had not been frequent visitors to The Birches, and after Jeffery inherited, she could remember only once or twice that his brother had stepped a foot in the place. At no time had he remained long. Mostly what she knew of Hugh and his mother came from Cornelia and Emily.

  Anne risked a glance at Hugh and finding him smiling warmly at her, she blushed and dropped her gaze. He was more handsome than she remembered . . . and she decided he had kind eyes.

  Not looking at him, Anne asked, “I don’t want to impose upon you. Are you very sure you won’t mind? And your mother, what will she think when you arrive home with me?”

  Hugh laughed. “My mother will fall on your neck with delight! She says often that it would be pleasant to have some female company. I am often gone to London and visiting my friends and I fear she is lonely. As for me . . .” His eyes traveled over her sweet little face. “How could I possibly object to the presence of such a charming young woman in my home?”