by Sahara Kelly
“You mean we still have some?” Letitia was smirking on the sofa next to her husband, Sir James FitzArden.
“You be quiet.” Edmund dismissed her comment. “Besides, your husband was there. He kicked him, if I remember rightly.”
“No, no, Edmund. I said I would kick him. But I didn’t want to mess up my boots.”
Rosaline swung on her heel and glared at the other member of the unholy trinity. “Simon…”
Tabitha Ridlington, wife to the beloved vicar himself, sighed dramatically. “He punched him too, Rosaline. Cut his knuckles on one of Mr. Seton-Mowbray’s buttons. I was seriously concerned. I mean he is a vicar, for God’s sake.”
“Well, this is utterly ridiculous.” Rosaline’s hands went to her hips, and Max grinned to see the brothers tremble. “The three of you should be ashamed of yourselves. Did you ever think to talk to Kitty first? To act like brothers instead of…well, I don’t know what…”
“Avenging knights?” ventured James. “I rather like the sound of that.”
“I think there may be a few missing links in your chain mail.” Letitia lifted a scornful eyebrow. “Kitty should have had the lot of you thrown out on your ears. I would have, quicker than the cat can lick it’s ear.”
“I was close to doing just that,” nodded Kitty. “But Max stopped me and told them about Hecate. All of a sudden they stopped viewing him as the enemy.”
Rosaline snorted. “Remember this, Edmund. Talk to anyone you’re angry with before you hit them, all right?”
“If I must.” Edmund sounded most aggrieved. “However, if it helps, I will again offer my thanks for your attentions to Hecate, Max.”
“When can I see her?”
Kitty asked the question for the second time in the hour since she and Max had arrived at Ridlington. It had been splendid to see her family again, and take a peek at a blissfully sleeping little Hugh. But she’d been advised to rest up a little before visiting Hecate, who would need to be awoken and told of her sister’s arrival.
“You can visit her a bit later, love,” said Edmund. “She seems to like us there around tea time, and Dal serves her biscuits. She has smiled once or twice.”
“But still not a word out of her?” worried Kitty.
Rosaline shook her head. “No. I’m afraid not. But she’s healing. She’s home, with us, and Dal—who I must say is the most amazingly caring person—so she is surrounded by all the things she loves. We know she will get better, it’s just taking a lot of time.”
“And her leg?” asked Max.
“A bad break indeed.” Edmund frowned. “But our physician seems to think she will recover from that as well. Although she may need to learn to walk again. We won’t really know until she’s ready to get up and out of bed.”
There was silence for a moment in the room, and Kitty found herself leaning on her husband’s arm as he sat next to her on the sofa in the large parlor. He slipped his hand over hers for comfort.
“It was a terrible tragedy,” said James. “I cannot say I was disconcerted by the death of Miller-James, since what I knew of him was not complimentary. But his loss has affected many people, including his family, for whom I feel sorry.”
“That goes for all of us, I think. Besides being grateful Hecate is alive and with us here, we must remember that any death leaves a void in other lives.” Simon nodded.
“I had a brief note from Bishop Miller-James,” added Tabby. “He is naturally devastated, but took the time to express his blessings and warm wishes for Hecate’s speedy recovery.”
“A gentleman,” said Max.
“Indeed,” agreed Edmund.
“Well then.” Rosaline looked around, and her eyes lit on Max. “Now that you’re part of the family, I’m going to call you Max, if you don’t mind. And you must call me Rosaline.”
Max dipped his head respectfully. “I would be honored, Rosaline. And thank you all for allowing me to wed Kitty.”
His wife snorted. “There was no allowing anything. We made our own decision, did we not?”
Edmund rolled his eyes. “Always doing things the difficult way, aren’t you, love?”
He moved toward her with his hand out, but she stopped him with a look. “Ruffle my hair and I will remove your hand with a blunt butter knife and stick it down your throat.”
“You always hated that, didn’t you?” grinned her unrepentant brother.
“Children, please.” Rosaline’s tone stopped the incipient squabble. “Instead of returning to the age of twelve, I suggest we adjourn to our respective rooms and tidy ourselves. I would prefer we visit Hecate looking halfway decent, rather than like a group of raggle-taggles which has been fighting all afternoon.”
They rose, obedient to the lady of the house. Also acknowledging that she was quite capable of delivering a sharp slap to the ear if necessary. It took a firm hand to run the Ridlingtons, and Rosaline had proved herself up to the challenge.
“Come with me, Max. Let me take you to my bedroom.” The silence that followed Kitty’s comment was deafening.
She sighed.
Letitia leaned over to Max. “Never mind, dear. You’ll soon get used to her.”
Max grinned back. “Do you think so? I rather hope not. Not for a long time, anyway.” He took Kitty’s hand and placed it on his arm. “Come along then, darling. Take me to your bedroom. I can’t wait…”
The rest of the family joined in the laughter, which, thought Kitty to herself, was a rather good way to introduce her husband into the Ridlington clan.
Her husband. It was still a novel and surprising word.
But then again, so was he.
EPILOGUE
Several weeks later, Ridlington Chase
Rosaline and Edmund walked into the dining room, and found James and Letitia there waiting for them. “Are Simon and Tabby here yet?” Rosaline moved to her chair as Edmund headed to the other end of the table.
The late afternoon sunlight danced off the bright spring green leaves outside the room, and it was looking as though this Easter weekend would be full of blue skies and fair weather.
“I believe I heard their carriage,” said James. “How about Max and Kitty?”
“Very soon, I should think.” Edmund offered. “I’ve asked Chidwell to hold off on serving dinner until they’ve arrived.”
“Wait…” James cocked his head at the sound of voices. “I believe that would be right about now.”
As if awaiting those words, Chidwell entered and held the door open. “The Vicar and Mrs. Ridlington, Mr. Max Seton-Mowbray and Mrs. Seton-Mowbray, sir.”
“Oh good God, Chidwell,” said Kitty. “It’s not as if you haven’t known me since I was in short skirts.”
“One must maintain the proprieties. You are wed now, and properly addressed as Mrs.”
“If you say so,” she sighed.
“I do indeed.”
“Should we perhaps sit?” Rosaline made the wry suggestion. “Or we could just stand and continue this witty badinage…”
“Hecate?” Simon glanced at Rosaline as he seated Tabitha.
Rosaline shook her head. “Not yet. But she went out into the gardens yesterday again. Dal carried her to the terrace for an hour or so.”
“Excellent,” smiled Simon, taking his own chair.
“How marvellous,” smiled Kitty. “Now…” she gestured with her hands. “I have news.”
“Ah,” smiled Simon. “Let us guess. You’re expecting.”
“What?” Kitty’s head whipped around to stare at her brother. “No…no of course not.”
“Not for lack of trying, you understand,” remarked Max to the table at large.
“That’s a given,” snickered Letitia.
“Oh for God’s sake. Can’t you people have an ordinary conversation for once?” Rosaline thumped her hand on the table. “Now everyone pipe down so Kitty may deliver her news.”
All eyes turned to Kitty.
“Richard’s back in London.”
“Ohhh…” Rosaline looked pleased as she smiled at her husband.
“And he’s married…”
To Be Continued in
Blackmailed by the Bride, Book 5 in the Six Pearls of Baron Ridlington Series
In case you may have missed any of the first three novels in this series, and would like to catch up/find out how this family’s adventures began, here are excerpts from Edmund’s story, Simon’s adventures with Tabitha, and the start of Letitia’s literary career.
Links to all three books, available at Amazon.com, can be found in the bibliography, as well as at the end of each excerpt. (If you are a Kindle Unlimited subscriber, you may read these books—and most of Sahara Kelly’s other novels—for free.)
THE LANDLOCKED BARON
Book 1 in the Six Pearls of Baron Ridlington Series
“I do beg your pardon.”
Everyone’s head turned. The slender blonde stepped forward. “Oh please don’t. We should be thanking you for your care of our brother.” She put down her glass and came forward. “I’m Letitia Ridlington.”
“Miss Ridlington.” The woman curtseyed. “I’m happy to say that your brother is doing well. He has a headache, which is to be expected. But he sustained no other injury than a nasty knock on the head and the doctor expects him to make a full recovery.”
“You managed to reach Dr. Fisher, then?” Simon inquired.
“I did, sir. He had planned to attend the funeral, but said a local woman was in the throes of childbirth. The arrival delayed him, and he could only stay for a few moments, before hurrying back to the mother and babe.”
“One life ends and another begins.” Hecate sipped her champagne. “I’m Hecate. The last Ridlington. I don’t believe we’ve met?”
“Forgive me.” The woman paused. “I should introduce myself. I am Rosaline Henry, currently employed as companion to Lady Fincham.”
“We owe you an enormous debt of gratitude, Miss Henry,” said Kitty. “You handled all the confusion so well and with such an air of command. Everyone obeyed you without question and what could have been a terrible disaster was utterly averted. I was astounded.”
Rosaline felt the color rise in her cheeks, but kept her voice level. “You are too kind.” She stepped a little further into the room. “To be accurate, I am Mrs. Henry. My husband passed away last year which circumstance forced me into the position I have now with Lady Fincham.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Hecate moved to her side and touched her arm in sympathy.
“Thank you. But we must move on with our lives.” It was a practical and appropriate response, but Rosaline was moved, all the same.
“Our brother is doing well, you said, Mrs. Henry. That is good news indeed. Do you have medical skills?” Simon beckoned her to a chair and seated her, his voice kind.
“Not as such, sir. But I nursed my husband for several years. He sustained an injury during his service with Lord Nelson and our brave fleet. It left him unable to assume his duties, and quite unwell. It was that which claimed him after an extended period of pain. A sad time.”
“One learns a lot from such an experience, Ma’am.” Simon’s eyes were gentle. “Your fortitude is to be commended.”
“I appreciate your words, Vicar.” She dipped her head. “I believe you have the Ridlington living? You minister to its flock?”
Simon nodded. “I do. And it is quite gratifying work. Although,” he paused, his hand to his chin, “I can’t say that I recall seeing the Finchams in church of a Sunday…”
Noting his quiet grin, Rosaline smiled. “I’m afraid the Finchams aren’t of a religious turn, sir. I had suggested we attend services, but was overruled.”
“I hear that being overruled goes hand in hand with anything to do with Lady Fincham.” A younger man spoke, his voice full of laughter. “I’m Richard Ridlington, Mrs. Henry. And this is my twin, Kitty.” He waved his hand at his sister. “Now you’ve met us all. Not on the happiest of occasions…” he lifted his champagne glass, “but we are, in fact, celebrating our continued existence. And now, thanks to you, we can also celebrate our oldest brother’s recovery from what could have been a fatal injury.”
“Indeed, Mrs. Henry. We are truly in your debt.”
Rosaline found a glass of champagne in her hand, placed there by Letitia Ridlington.
“Please join us? To life and living and new opportunities…” She raised her glass as everyone echoed her sentiments.
Rosaline joined them, somewhat amazed at the concentration of diverse but equally powerful personalities all in one room. And all in one family.
The Ridlingtons were certainly a force to be reckoned with. She wondered if Edmund, the eldest brother and now the Baron, was equally dynamic. He would have to be if he was going to take this lot in hand.
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St. SIMON’S SIN
Book 2 in the Six Pearls of Baron Ridlington Series
Simon became aware of the silence as the last of the carriages rolled away. The birds still sang, the ocean still provided a background of soft wave sounds, and the breeze ruffled the leaves in the trees and on the hedges that bordered either side of the lane.
“We should walk,” she said.
“Indeed.” Politely, he offered her his arm.
“I’m not decrepit, you know.” She lifted an eyebrow at his gesture.
“I wasn’t implying anything of the sort and you know it.” He sighed. “I was merely offering an arm. Must we always come to daggers drawn?”
She lifted her chin. “No. And I apologize. That was my fault.” She took his arm.
“Apology accepted.”
They began to follow the lane, strolling easily between the laurels and the wildflowers walling them in to their own private walk.
“You didn’t stay that day for the Spring Fair,” said Simon. “You arrived, said hullo, and that was the last I saw of you, even when we heard the sad news.”
“I know.” She nodded, her gaze fixed on the way ahead. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to re-establish my acquaintance with the people I used to know here. I certainly didn’t want their sympathy. Too much like pity for my comfort.”
“But they’re people you grew up with, Tabby. They’re not strangers.”
“To you? No they’re not. But to me…” she paused as if looking for the right words. “To me, they represent my past. Something that is gone and can never be recaptured.”
Simon took his own time answering. “It must have been difficult when your papa passed away. My condolences on his death. I never had chance to express them. You were gone before the news came to Ridlington.” He lifted his hand and placed it over hers where it lay on his forearm.
“Then you know Papa died in London.” Her tone was calm. “He was there under his physician’s care. There was nothing anyone could do. I should have been there, I suppose, but I took a chance on coming down here. Of course, that was when he passed away.” She sighed. “The way of the world. Always doing the worst possible thing at the worst possible time.”
“So you vanished again, leaving us wondering if you had received a summons from some high ranking Government agency.”
He smiled as he gently referred to her previous adventures in Europe. Her task as an intelligence-gatherer, or as his sisters liked to refer to it—a spy—had intrigued them all last autumn.
She chuckled. “No. I’m hoping that phase of my life is over. I am retired from anything to do with the Government—of any nation.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Simon heaved an inner sigh of relief. “What are you going to do with the rest of your time, Lady Ellsmere?”
“The title is nominal, at best.” She sounded wry. “I can order an evening gown and have it delivered the next day. But I don’t have a residence to receive it.” A slight snort followed. “Stupid, isn’t it?”
Simon snugged her arm in a little closer to his body. “I know Worsley Hall has gone to some relative…a distant cousin?”
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She nodded. “A man I had never heard of, let alone met. My home. Gone just like that with Papa’s death.”
“And that’s why you’re here now? To conclude those matters?”
“Mostly, yes.”
They walked on in silence for a little while, Simon as busy with his thoughts as he imagined her to be with hers.
“What shall you do, Tabby?” He brought them to a halt and looked down at her. “Worsley is no longer yours. You are a widow, and apparently there’s no home for you with the Ellsmeres.”
She stared ahead, but he saw her throat move as she swallowed.
“Can I help? Can the Ridlingtons do anything? I know Edmund and Rosaline would…”
“No, stop.” She turned and disengaged her arm from his. “I have a mission already, Simon.”
“I thought you said no more Government business for you.”
“Not that kind of mission.” She blew a breath out from between her lips. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, so I’ll just come right out with it.”
“Very well.” He wondered at her tone. Her face was expressionless, quietly attractive in repose and giving nothing away.
“I have been asked by the Diocese to review and assess the finances of St. Simon’s church.”
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WORD OF A LADY
Book 3 in the Six Pearls of Baron Ridlington Series
He was a little younger than she’d anticipated. Perhaps in his early forties, which was no great age, but given that he was the name behind a prestigious London publishing company, she’d been prepared for someone with more of an elderly appearance.
“Miss Smith?” He rose as she entered the parlour.
“Indeed.” She dropped him a polite curtsey. “Thank you for the honour you do us, Mr. Lesley. Coming all this way from London is very much appreciated, and quite a surprise.”
They sat, he in a large chair by the fireplace, she in a smaller one next to the well-worn sofa.