The Hero Least Likely

by Darcy Burke

  “She looked so happy.”

  “Believe me, she is.” Digging a coin from his pocket, he handed it to one groom as another helped Corinna climb up. Sean walked around to the driver’s side and swung up beside her. “And I’m relieved to know she won’t be living in sin,” he added as he lifted the reins. “Or at least, not for long.”

  As the horses clip-clopped out of the mews, Corinna leaned against him, sighing contentedly. “What do you mean?”

  “Deirdre won’t be waiting for the divorce to come through before she moves in with Raleigh,” he said with a sigh, turning onto the street. “That will take a long while, and she won’t be patient. Impulsive, my sister is, not to mention a wee bit wild.”

  “I guess wildness runs in your family,” Corinna said, grinning up at him. “Her brother posed nearly naked for an artist, you know.”

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  A short time later, Griffin found himself seated on a sofa in his drawing room, surrounded by members of his family and a couple of near strangers with Irish accents. And each and every one of them—except for the baby—wanted something.

  His two brothers-in-law wanted to go home. That he could understand. If he weren’t already home, he would want to go home now, too.

  Alexandra wanted to know how Lincolnshire had come to learn everything his will had revealed. He couldn’t blame her for that, as he’d be clamoring for the information himself if he didn’t already have it.

  Juliana wanted Corinna to marry Delaney. Corinna wanted to marry Delaney. Delaney’s sister wanted Delaney to marry Corinna. And Delaney wanted to marry Corinna.

  These four people were responsible for half of the new cracks in his teeth.

  And then there was Rachael, sitting beside him on the sofa, enveloping him in her heady, floral scent. She wanted to marry him.

  Which made her responsible for the rest of the cracks.

  The beginnings of a headache pulsed in his temples. Alexandra wasn’t seated. Holding little Harry, she was bouncing him unceasingly in a rather frantic, rhythmic fashion. While it worked to keep the baby from crying, Griffin’s headache escalated just watching her.

  “How on earth did Lord Lincolnshire learn everything?” she asked for the third time.

  He decided to give her what she wanted first.

  But before he could unclench his jaw to do so, Delaney answered. “I’m thinking Lincolnshire got the facts from your brother,” the fellow told her. “A mere two days before he died.” Sitting on a sofa across the drawing room, with Corinna beside him—right beside him—he looked to Griffin for confirmation. “That morning he summoned you…it wasn’t to say good-bye, was it?”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Griffin said. “He wanted information. I take it he asked you to find future employment for all of his staff?”

  “He asked me to continue employing them all at Lincolnshire House, which I knew his real nephew wouldn’t agree to. So I offered to find alternative employment for them instead.”

  “Well, you did too good a job of it, raising his suspicions. He subsequently requested that Mr. Lawless hire someone to investigate the various concerns where his servants would eventually work, to make certain they all existed and his people would be treated well. In the process, Lawless discovered all of the establishments were owned by a single man, a certain Mr. Sean Delaney.” Griffin paused, rather impressed despite his hunch that this fellow might have kissed his little sister. “You own a lot of property, Delaney.”

  “Among other things. You needn’t worry that your sister might ever want for anything.”

  Griffin snorted. “You’ll keep her in dresses, I expect—if I agree to let you have her.” When Corinna opened her mouth to protest, he forged ahead. “From there, Lawless made further inquiries and learned you were posing as Hamilton, and furthermore, that Hamilton was your brother-in-law. Feeling you were a good man”—this uttered with more than a little irony—“Lincolnshire summoned me to ask if I knew why you might have done such a thing.”

  “And you confirmed his suspicions?” Corinna asked.

  “He was close enough to confirming them for himself. I told him Delaney agreed to the hoax for his sister’s sake and attested that Hamilton was quite deserving of his less-than-stellar reputation. Lincolnshire seemed especially furious that his nephew had refused Mrs. Hamilton the divorce she wanted.” He looked to Delaney’s sister. “He was quite taken with you, if you didn’t know.”

  “I loved him, too,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.

  “He considered your brother a saint, and he compared you to the angels. He wanted you happy. And he requested that I not reveal what he knew. He wanted to settle everything his own way. I expect his will was rewritten that very afternoon.”

  “Didn’t you think we’d have wanted to know?” Corinna asked rather indignantly. “I was devastated, and Sean thought he was being set up to take a fall—”

  “I agreed to keep the secret in order to make Lincolnshire happy. The exact reason you kept secrets, if you’ll recall. I followed through after his death because I like to think I’m a man of my word. I felt Lincolnshire deserved to resolve the matter as he wished. And furthermore”—he glared daggers at her—“I had no knowledge the two of you were involved with each other, so I had no reason to worry for your happiness, Corinna. You denied any interest in him, and you told me you were upset over the loss of Lord Lincolnshire and because your painting isn’t likely to be accepted for the Summer Exhibition, if you’ll remember.”

  That tirade rendered his youngest sister speechless, a rare state for Corinna. Griffin found a measure of satisfaction in that.

  He was going to allow her to marry Delaney, of course. He was thinking a late summer wedding at Cainewood Castle, after the season ended, would be perfect. While he wished he knew Delaney better, he liked what he’d learned of the fellow thus far. Lincolnshire had considered him worthy, and Griffin trusted the earl’s judgment. Most important, Corinna was in love, and Griffin wanted to see her happy.

  But he was sick and tired of being manipulated by all the women in his life.

  Before he granted his permission, he planned to make everyone else squirm for a change. And he planned to enjoy it.

  “Do you not like Sean?” Corinna finally asked.

  “I would like to have his skill at investing,” Griffin said dryly, leaving it at that for now. He shifted to look at Delaney. “Given Lincolnshire’s reaction, I assumed he wasn’t planning to punish you for lying to him. But I felt no responsibility, anyway. As far as I was concerned, you had made your bed.”

  Slowly Delaney nodded. “And now I expect I shall have to lie in it.”

  “No, you won’t,” Corinna disagreed heatedly. “Griffin will allow us to marry. I have a secret that will ensure it.”

  “Another secret?” Suddenly Griffin wasn’t finding this so enjoyable. His headache was getting worse. “What sort of blasted secret?”

  “Maybe he kissed her for half an hour,” Rachael suggested sweetly.

  Griffin nearly cracked another tooth.

  “Open your eyes, Griffin,” Juliana put in. “A blind man could see they belong together.”

  “I see they seem to be glued together,” he said sharply.

  Delaney immediately put space between himself and Corinna, and Corinna immediately scooted right back against him. Griffin found that amusing, which helped to calm him down a bit.

  Delaney’s pretty blond sister cleared her throat. “Lord Cainewood, you admired Lord Lincolnshire, didn’t you? I’m thinking you should trust his judgment regarding my brother.”

  “I’m thinking this is none of your concern,” he said, thinking she was the only one with an intelligent argument.

  Unsurprisingly, Juliana wasn’t ready to give up. “What do you think, James?”

  Her husband looked at her as though doves had just flown out of her ears. “I think I’m staying out of this.”

  “Alexandra, Tristan?”

  They both
shook their heads, Alexandra doing so while still maniacally bouncing the baby.

  Crossing her arms, Juliana looked back to Griffin. “You have to let them marry.”

  “I don’t have to do anything.”

  “They can elope to Gretna Green,” she pointed out with more than a little smugness.

  “I won’t do that,” Delaney put in quickly. “I won’t go behind her brother’s back.”

  “I knew you’d say that,” Corinna said. “That’s why I’m prepared to use the secret.”

  Griffin swung back to her. “What secret?”

  “Maybe he kissed her for more than half an hour,” Rachael suggested.

  Which made Griffin wonder if maybe things had gone beyond kissing. “Did he paw you, Corinna?”

  She looked confused. “Did he what?”

  An awful thought occurred to him. “You aren’t in the family way, are you?”

  “No, I’m not in the family way!” Her cheeks flushed red with anger or embarrassment. Perhaps both. “He didn’t do anything that could get me in the family way. Sean’s much too honorable to even consider such a thing. He’s the son of a vicar, you know.”

  Griffin hadn’t known, and he was rather pleased to hear it. “So, then, what’s the secret? What did he do?”

  She hesitated, her gaze darting about the room. She appeared to be holding her breath. Beside her, Delaney looked like he wished the floor would open up and swallow him. Alexandra stopped bouncing, and the baby began crying.

  Griffin saw Corinna’s breath rush out, saw her suck in another one—a single, shuddering, ragged breath—and then she opened her mouth—

  “You know what? I don’t want to hear it.” Suddenly, he didn’t. He was absolutely certain it was something that would make him furious, something that would make him demand the fellow marry his sister immediately.

  In fact, he was going to do just that, just in case.

  So much for a late summer wedding at Cainewood.

  “You two will be married tomorrow.”

  Corinna finally left Delaney’s side, rushing over to smother Griffin in a hug. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you for not making me use my secret. You won’t be sorry.”

  “I’m sorry already,” he muttered. “It’s a miracle I have any teeth left in my mouth.”

  “They cannot marry tomorrow,” Juliana said. Smugly. “They’ll need a special license. And she’ll need a dress.”

  “She has dozens of dresses. I know, because I paid for all of them.” Griffin disentangled himself from his sister and set her away. “Very well, then, you have until Friday to get a license and pick a dress. Not a day later. And you and the vicar’s son will not be alone together until then.” The baby was still bawling, a racket loud enough to rattle his aching teeth. He had a raging headache. “Leave, all of you, please. Except for Corinna. Now.”

  Most of the family shuffled out. Mercifully, the baby’s cries faded away with them, and as they left the house, the noise ceased altogether.

  “I’m going to walk Sean and Deirdre to the door,” Corinna said quietly. “I’m not leaving.” The three of them walked into the foyer.

  Rachael had stayed put, naturally. Now she moved closer, enveloping Griffin in her blasted floral scent again. Against his better judgment, he shifted to face her.

  “I’ve reconsidered your offer,” she said in her low, sultry voice.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, fearing he knew what she meant.

  “I said I wouldn’t wait until your sister married. But as I can wait until Friday without becoming a shriveled old lady, I’ve changed my mind.”

  She moved closer, so close her mouth was a whisper from his.

  And she licked her lips.

  “Do you want to kiss me, Griffin?”

  His head hurt. He felt beaten down. And he was being manipulated again, blast it.

  But he very much wanted to kiss her.

  He loved Rachael. She was clever and beautiful. Open and refreshing. Having managed an earldom for a number of years, she would make a fine partner, helping him manage the Cainewood holdings. He didn’t want to lose her to some son of a gun with the gall to put his hand where it didn’t belong.

  The next fellow to put his hand where it didn’t belong was going to be him.

  Her lovely blue eyes bore into his, her lips curving into a tantalizing smile. Struggling for control, his heart and head pounding in unison, he moved closer. She met him halfway and brushed her lips over his, and he yanked her close, feeling his restraint snap, crushing her to him.

  A bloodcurdling scream came from the foyer.

  He jumped to his feet and rushed out to see who was being murdered.

  No one was dead. But it was difficult to be thankful for that when he saw the way Corinna was wrapped around Delaney. No one should ever have to see his sister in such an embrace. She was literally hanging on the fellow, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist.

  She was sobbing, and she clutched a crumpled letter. Delaney’s sister plucked it out of her hand and brought it to Griffin.

  Somerset House, Monday 26 May

  Lady Corinna Chase:

  The Royal Academy’s Summer Exhibition Committee is pleased to inform you that your painting has been accepted for our 1817 Exhibition. Please be advised that Varnishing Day will take place Friday 30 May in preparation for the Exhibition’s opening on Monday 2 June.

  Congratulations,

  Benjamin West

  President

  “I cannot believe it,” Corinna choked out through a sob.

  “I’m not at all surprised,” Griffin said.

  She slid off Delaney, thank heavens, and dashed the tears from her face. “You’re not?”

  “You’re very talented, Corinna.” He was ecstatic for her. “Since Varnishing Day is Friday, we’ll move the wedding to Saturday.”

  “And make it a double wedding,” a sultry voice added behind him.

  FIFTY-NINE

  The great room, which housed the Summer Exhibition, had been built at the very top of Somerset House so it could be illuminated by skylights. It was accessed by a wide, winding staircase that seemed endless. Corinna’s knees trembled as she climbed up it on Friday afternoon, gripping her paint box like a life preserver.

  “Are you getting tired?” Sean asked, taking her arm to steady her.

  “A little,” she said.

  She was glad Griffin had relented and allowed Sean to accompany her. But unfortunately, he’d done so only after extracting a solemn promise from the “vicar’s son” that he would bring her here and straight back, and she knew Sean was so honorable he’d stick to that promise.

  Which meant this would be another day without any kissing.

  The four days since Griffin had agreed to their marriage seemed the longest four days of her life. Two special licenses had been procured, and the minister booked, and nothing much more had happened. The double wedding tomorrow was going to be a very quiet affair, even smaller than Lady Cavanaugh’s. Besides the two brides and grooms, only Corinna’s family and Deirdre, Rachael’s siblings, and the ABC sisters would be attending. Aunt Frances couldn’t come, as she was still in confinement—new mothers stayed at home for the first month.

  The wedding would take place in the afternoon in the Berkeley Square house’s drawing room, and then they’d have a little dinner, and then everyone would go home.

  Juliana was very disappointed. She’d wanted more of a fuss made about everything. But Corinna didn’t care about the wedding, just like she didn’t care that she didn’t have a new dress to wear for it. The wedding was only something to get past.

  “I’m a little tired and a little nervous,” she admitted, still climbing. “What if my painting is hung up very high? Or down near the floor?”

  “Why should it matter where it’s hung? It’s an honor just to be in the Exhibition, isn’t it?”

  “The room is designed with a line going around it, a strip of molding mounted
eight feet above the floor. The pictures placed with the bottom edges of their frames along the line are considered the best. It’s an extra honor to be hung not high or low, but right there in the middle. I’m afraid to look.”

  “Well, I don’t see how not looking is going to change anything. But if you want, I’ll look for you and let you know.”

  “You can’t.” On the landing, she stopped before the Great Room’s open door to catch her breath. “You won’t recognize my painting.” That was another thing she was nervous about. “It’s not Lord Lincolnshire’s portrait.”

  “It’s not?” He looked totally nonplussed. “Well, what is it, then?”

  “My secret,” she said and stepped in, hurrying to the center of the room.

  Varnishing Day seemed to be chaos. Artists were everywhere, on chairs and ladders and their knees, blocking Corinna’s view of all the pictures on the soaring walls. They hung frame-to-frame, fitted like puzzle pieces floor to ceiling. She turned in circles, frantically searching for her own.

  “Sweet mercy!” Sean burst out.

  “Where? Where is it?”

  He took her by the shoulders and swung her around. “There. And begorrah, it’s quite some secret.”

  She stared at it, feeling breathless, and not because she’d climbed a hundred stairs. “They liked it.”

  “They wouldn’t have accepted it had they not liked it, críona.”

  “But it’s on the line. In the place of honor. They really liked it.”

  “Hamilton loved it,” he said dryly. “He described his favorite submission to me precisely. ‘A rather outrageous depiction of a golden-haired young man, half-clothed and bathed in candlelight.’ I had no idea the half-clothed young man was me.”

  “And neither did he, a person who’s known you since childhood. No one will recognize you, Sean.” Tearing her gaze from her picture, she turned to him. “I changed your coloring.”

  “But Deirdre will want to come see it, and your brother—”

  “I didn’t end up telling Griffin my secret,” she reminded him, extremely thankful she hadn’t needed to. “It won’t occur to them it could be you. You’re not angry with me, are you? No one here is recognizing you, either. And it’s not because they haven’t noticed the painting.” Indeed, several artists not involved in their own work stood before it, discussing it, a sight that made her heart sing. “Why didn’t you tell me Hamilton liked it so much?”