The Marquis' Mystical Witch (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

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The Marquis' Mystical Witch (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 7

by Rachel McNeely


  “Quick,” she whispered to Elvie. “Do you have pen and paper in your desk?”

  “Yes.” Elvie got up and lit a candle, so Thea could see to write a short note. In the distance, they heard Uncle Rigby calling to the butler and acting the distraught uncle of a missing niece.

  Thea scribbled the message and handed it to Elvie. “When Uncle Rigby finds I am still here it will cause some confusion and distraction and allow you to slip away.

  “Give this letter to whomever you trust and tell them to deliver it directly into Lord Radford’s hands. I’m going to pretend I heard something and slipped into your room without you being aware. You run out now and tell Uncle Rigby I’m safe. While he confronts me, send the note.”

  “I will. George, one of the kitchen boys, can be trusted. He'll find someone to deliver your message or take it himself.” Elvie pulled on her night-robe and sped out the door, calling for their uncle.

  Thea braced herself for the coming altercation. She shivered with cold and fear. She refused to consider the consequences if Lord Radford refused to help her. He might very well decide not to become involved. Her own presumption to ask him shocked her. Still, she had no one else.

  Heavy footsteps stormed up the stairs. Her sister’s door flew open and banged against the wall. Thea stood by the curtain where she’d hid.

  Uncle Rigby’s hateful eyes glared at her, as he snarled. “You were here all along. Why did you continue to hide?” He advanced into the room until he stood over her. His face flushed an unhealthy red. Beefy hands grasped her arms and yanked her away from the curtains.

  “You do not seem pleased by my narrow escape, uncle.”

  He sputtered with anger, and spittle flew from his tight mouth. “Do not speak.” He flung her away from him, and Thea caught hold of the bed post to keep from falling.

  “Go.” He pointed to the door. “Dress appropriately and meet me in my office at ten o’clock. I will notify Lord Akers you are ready to accept his generous proposal. Perhaps he can protect you better than I.”

  “I won’t marry him!”

  "You will do as I say and that includes marrying whomever I choose.” Uncle Rigby bent even closer. "I have control of you and your sister."

  “No!”

  He gripped her shoulders and shoved her so hard against the wall she bumped her head. Servants standing in the doorway gasped. Uncle Rigby glowered at them, then strode across the room and slammed the door shut.

  Thea touched her head. "You're a bully and nothing like my father."

  "Your father is gone, and you're no one. I'm in charge here."

  Aunt Cornelia opened the door and stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind her. “What are you doing?” her hard voice snapped. “We will be gossip for the Ton and you are ruining Amy’s chance to make an exceptional match.”

  “The gal foiled our plans. I am sending for Akers to end this charade. He can get a special permit and marry her as soon as he wants.” Uncle Rigby turned from his wife and glared at Thea. “And if you do anything such as running away, we will see your sister wed to him. Now go and be in my office at ten o'clock."

  Thea balled her hands into fists. She wanted to batter her uncle's weak, pudgy face. He had her cornered and he knew it. She would never expose her sister to such a fate. Refusing to look cowed, Thea marched toward the door.

  “Akers will enjoy bending that one to his will. I wish I could watch,” Rigby muttered under his breath as Thea walked by him.

  She knew he wanted her to hear. She recoiled from the horror his words created in her mind and held her lips tight to swallow her scream. All hope was gone.

  * * * *

  Rising early, Wulf went downstairs. He didn't expect to see his mother or sister at breakfast after their late return from the dance. Restless and hungry, he settled at the table with a plate of sausage and eggs. He’d just finished his second cup of coffee when Bailey entered the room.

  “My lord, an unkempt man is at the back door. He has a letter he says must be delivered directly to you.”

  “Unkempt, Bailey?”

  “He appears disheveled. I can not believe he would be employed by any proper household.”

  “He will not give you the letter?”

  “No, he is adamant that he has to place it in your hands.”

  “Send him in, but bring the pistol from my study first,” Wulf said, being curious, but also cautious.

  Bailey nodded and soon returned with the gun. Wulf left it lying in plain sight.

  With his brown shaggy hair, a craggy face and dirty clothes, the messenger looked like he’d been living on the streets. But, he held himself straight, and the look in his eyes showed he'd not been completely cowed by his situation. At least not yet.

  The man glanced at the gun, but didn’t flinch. He walked straight to Wulf. “You be Lord Radford?”

  “Yes.”

  The man held out a folded paper. “I was told to give this to you.” He moved his head in a brief bow and stepped back.

  “Were you to stay for an answer?”

  “No. My brother said, ‘tis a nice kettle of fish in the house this mornin' and I’m to rush this,” he nodded toward the paper, “to you.”

  “What household?”

  “My brother works in the Beckett kitchens.”

  “Bailey,” Wulf called out and Bailey popped into the room. Wulf held back a smile. Obviously Bailey hovered outside in case he was needed.

  “See this man is given a good breakfast.” Wulf studied the messenger. “You need work?”

  The man nodded his head.

  “I appreciate the speed and determination you’ve shown to get this to me.” Wulf indicated the letter. “Stay around after your breakfast and we'll talk later and see if we can find a job for you to do.”

  Puzzlement crossed the craggy face but the man nodded in agreement.

  “Good. Go eat.”

  Wulf waited until the door shut behind the two men. He turned the paper over in his hand, and then taking a deep breath, broke the seal and began to read.

  Lord Radford, I am in desperate straits. My uncle attempted to have me kidnapped tonight. He is determined to wed me to Lord Akers. I am not sure how you can help me, but you are my only hope. I believe we can come to an agreement and I will help you, as you requested, in return for your assistance now. Miss Althea Beckett.

  Wulf paced around the small dining room. His instincts told him that the time had come for him to make a decision regarding marriage. Having a wife would complicate his life in many ways, especially one that made his blood run hot with desire.

  He slapped the paper against his hand. He knew he wouldn't ignore her distress call, although old memories tried to overwhelm him. He forced them back into the deep recesses of his mind. He wanted to have her for his own, but he had planned to try one more time to find a way to break the curse. Now, there was no time for that.

  Seeing the early morning light through his window, Wulf realized Althea sent the message before dawn. Unfolding the note, he reread the short missive. Her uncle must be desperate, but why? What did Lord Akers know and/or hold against the man? He had hoped to have time for his investigator to find out, but her uncle was too quick to action.

  Wulf dashed off a note to his solicitor. Mr. Deems knew how to contact Hawley. For now, he'd behave as though he already knew what he only suspected.

  “Bailey,” he called out and his butler quickly appeared. “Send Thomas to my room right away.” Wulf took the stairs two at a time. There was no time to lose.

  Thomas, his valet, did not hide his disapproval at being awakened at such an early hour. Lords usually slept late and took their time preparing for the day. His annoyance that Wulf seldom followed the correct schedule was apparent. Wulf said nothing. Thomas had been his father’s valet and he would soon be old enough to retire. For now, Wulf put up with his valet’s idiosyncrasies by ignoring them.

  Dressed in dark blue breeches and coat with a white and sil
ver vest and high polished Hessian boots, Wulf prepared to leave. “I will carry my blackthorn cane.”

  “You are expecting trouble?”

  “Let us say I prefer to be prepared.” The blackthorn hid a long, thin knife, which Wulf hoped would not be needed.

  Thomas handed Wulf his gloves, hat, and the cane. Wulf glanced at the mirror. He appeared well dressed for the day. The tight coat annoyed him, but it was the accepted dress in town. He would have preferred a country coat, with more movement allowed in the shoulders, but he would manage. Perhaps all could be handled in a civil manner. At least one could hope.

  * * * *

  Akers’ carriage was in front of Beckett’s townhouse when Wulf rounded the corner in his curricle. Wulf handed his reins to his tiger, then jumped down and hurried up the steps. The butler answered with promptness. He stared, a surprised expression on his face.

  “Lord Radford?”

  Wulf pushed against the door, and the butler stepped back. “I am here to see Lord Beckett,” Wulf said, handing him his hat and gloves.

  The thin, pointy chinned butler straightened and frowned. “I do not believe Lord Beckett is expecting you. He is busy at the moment.”

  Wulf gave him a forceful glare. “I believe he will see me. Announce me, now,” he demanded and was pleased to see a frightened expression cross the man’s face. Still he had to give the butler credit. He held his ground.

  “This is most irregular.”

  Irritated and tired of bandying words, Wulf strode down the corridor and knocked on the study door.

  A gruff voice said, “Enter.”

  It was apparent the two men did not expect him. Wulf bowed. “My lords, how nice to see you both this fine morning.”

  Akers was the first to find his voice. “What the deuce are you doing here, Radford?” Beckett looked ready to have a fit of apoplexy.

  Wulf strolled into the room. “I believe we have business to discuss.”

  “Whatever we have to discuss, this ain’t the time. Akers has made an offer for my niece, and I have sent for her to accept.”

  “Rushing things a bit, aren’t you? There might be more profitable alliances to be had.” He hesitated then added. “Your haste raises questions.”

  “What do you mean?” Beckett snarled.

  “Get out of here, Radford. This is not your business,” Akers said.

  They all turned at the soft knock on the door, and Beckett yelled out, “Enter.”

  This time it was who they expected. Miss Althea Beckett stood in the entranceway, her usual pale skin white as snow. Black circles shown through the translucent skin under her eyes. Wulf restrained himself from going to her side. He waited for the rest of the assembled group to act.

  “My dear Althea.” Her uncle reached out and closed his hand firmly around Thea’s upper arm, drawing her into the room. “Come in and greet Lord Akers. Lord Radford is leaving.”

  Thea glanced at Wulf, her eyes wide with fear. She tugged her arm loose from her uncle's grip and ran back to the door. "I don't want to greet Lord Akers. I've nothing to say to him." Tears ran down her face.

  “Your uncle and I haven't finished our conversation, Miss Beckett. Would you please excuse us? We'll call you back.”

  Thea looked from her uncle to Lord Radford before nodding her head. She whirled around and hurried away.

  “How dare you?” Beckett yelled. “This is my house. I will have you thrown out in the street.”

  “If you do, I can make things very unpleasant socially for you and your family.” Wulf raised his cane and pointed it at Beckett. “My family is still very powerful. The Ton respects my mother’s opinions. Don’t test it.”

  Beckett glanced at the door.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Akers said. “He has no business being here.”

  “I know why you are rushing your niece to marriage and why you chose this poor excuse of a man,” Wulf said. He looked down his nose at Akers.

  Akers charged forward and ran into the covered tip of Wulf’s raised cane.

  “Are you challenging me? It would give me great pleasure to meet you at dawn tomorrow.” Wulf’s words hung in the silence. He saw the two men glance at each other. A look of trepidation flickered across Akers' face.

  “I thought you might reconsider.” Wulf’s words came out in a snarl. “Now leave, so Beckett and I can discuss his niece’s future."

  “Wait.” Beckett motioned to Akers. He turned to Wulf. “If my niece tells you herself that she is willing to marry Lord Akers, will you leave?”

  “Ah, but it's evident from what your niece just said that she doesn't wish to marry this man. You would have had to threaten her with something or someone she holds dear to think she'd say otherwise.”

  Wulf was pleased to see Beckett’s face turn an even darker red. He waited for the man to think of another idea.

  “I don’t believe you know anything about me or my reasons for wanting my niece to marry Lord Akers. She is not yet twenty-one, and I will decide whose offer I will accept. Lord Akers is my choice.”

  “Fine, I will have my solicitor talk to the court about studying the will of your deceased brother. Perhaps I am mistaken and the court will find no irregularity.”

  Wulf knew he was taking a chance. He had no evidence and doubted the court would look at the papers on his word alone. But did Beckett know that and was he willing to risk it?

  No one spoke or moved for several seconds. Beckett motioned for Akers to leave, holding the door open for him.

  “This is outrageous,” Akers sputtered. “We have an agreement.”

  “Go. I will see you later today,” Beckett told Akers.

  Taking slow sluggish steps, Beckett went and sat behind his desk. He didn’t invite Wulf to be seated, but Wulf made himself comfortable in one the chairs across from Althea’s uncle.

  Beckett spread his hands out. “What do you want to forget all of this?” he asked.

  What did he want? Her. The word burned through his brain. Wulf knew the moment had arrived. He must offer for Thea now or let her accept her fate and he certainly didn't plan on leaving her in the clutches of these two men. He'd hoped to find a solution without marriage, until he found the cure for his curse. He knew he'd have much difficulty not claiming her as his own once they wed. And he'd promised himself to never take a chance of having a son suffer the consequences of his family's nightmare.

  Desire and anguish tore at him. Thea's pale face and haunted eyes flashed before him as hot need coiled in his belly. He stared across at Beckett. The man looked hopeful. Surely he didn't think Wulf would take money and go away. Perhaps he did.

  Beckett sneered. “While you've been thinking, I've reconsidered. You don't have any evidence to take to the courts. You're bluffing. Either you pay me to marry her, or she marries Akers today.”

  Wulf weighed the odds. He was sure he was right, but proving it would take time and Thea had no time left. A prickle danced along his nerve endings. The wolf wanted out to destroy Beckett. He mustn't allow that to happen, at least not the way the wolf desired. There were more civilized ways to bring a man down.

  “What the hell…” Beckett swore, then blinked and looked puzzled.

  Wulf saw the startled look in Beckett’s face and knew his eyes glowed with the fiery golden color that came when his emotions were high, especially near the full moon. He forced himself to relax his body. Gradually, the urge lessened.

  Beckett wouldn't be certain later about what he saw and was unlikely to spread such strange gossip regarding a wealthy lord. “I see the best option for Miss Beckett is to marry me," Wulf said. "How much do you want?”

  It galled him to pay Beckett but, for now, it was the only recourse. Time would rectify all things and Beckett would live to regret the day he challenged the wolf.

  “Two thousand pounds.”

  “Which tells me Akers was offering one thousand and one is all you will get.” Wulf sat back, holding tight to his cane. “Plus, you will give
me custody of her sister, Elvie. She will live with us and I will make the decision about who she marries when the time comes.”

  Beckett started to respond, and then stopped. Wulf was beginning to believe he was correct about Beckett altering the will, and that he had threatened to marry Elvie to Akers if Thea did not comply. The man really was a reprobate.

  “And if I don’t agree?”

  Wulf leaned closer to Beckett. “I don’t think you want to cross me.”

  Beckett blanched. “All right, all right. I will send Althea in to talk with you.”

  “Thank you.” Wulf made a mocking bow. Beckett stomped out of the room and down the corridor. Wulf went to the windows where rain rolled down the pane in rivulets. He had done what he promised himself never to do again—offer for a lady’s hand in marriage.

  How much did he need to explain to Thea? Not the whole story yet. A convenient marriage was all he could offer. It was up to her to accept or not. Sharp pain tore through Wulf at the thought of her recoiling from him if she discovered his secret. A sense of cold pervaded his whole being. Wulf tried to push back the doubts and his memories of another, less happy marriage.

  He hoped his mother would be appeased that he had found a wife. She didn’t need to know he did not plan to sire an heir just yet.

  Wulf was tired. His body felt heavy and his arms prickled with the first glimmer of his change to the wolf. He tightened his control. He must go to his estate outside London soon. Tonight was the full moon. He could not be in the city then, no matter what.

  “Lord Radford.”

  Lost in thought, he hadn’t heard her enter. She stood inside the door, her face still sad and pale.

  “Uncle Rigby told me to come to his study.”

  “Please sit. I will order tea.” He went to the door. “Have you eaten?”

  She shook her head no.

  The butler came to the door as soon as it opened. “May I help you?”

 

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