His brother must want him dead more than ever. But for the first time in years, Justin wanted to live. Because of Faith.
With her pregnancy, it had been easy for them to abstain from intimate relations, as she requested. And her reasons were beginning to make sense to him. Even he wanted more than the physical intimacy they’d shared the night she conceived. Their role reversal had made him understand something about caring…which was frightening, if he allowed himself to ponder it.
During his illness, with him vulnerable and wretched, he’d expected Faith to be repulsed. Now, nursing her, he was more attuned to her, as if their spirits marched side by side on a plane too high to imagine. Sometimes he’d swear he experienced the same physical distress as she.
He wanted her well, the feisty, determined Faith again. He wanted to be free to share her life. He wanted her by his side to the end of their days, her hand in his, her smile like sunshine, her laughter a melody too sweet to imagine.
Yes, he wanted her body too, but he wanted her soul more.
They needed a fresh start. Away from here. But they would have no life at all, if anything happened to either of them.
Her condition was becoming evident…at least to him. Soon it would be evident to all, putting her in as much danger as him. Vincent would not wait and see if their child was a girl, or the heir that could depose him.
The clock was ticking. In his head. In his life. In truth.
He wished to hell he knew how to beat it.
In his room that evening, Justin brought up their dilemma.
“It’s worse than you think. When Jenny dressed me after my bath today,” Faith said. “I popped a button clear across the room. She said I shouldn’t be gaining weight after being so sick. She didn’t finish her sentence, but her eyes got round as saucers. I think we need to tell her, Justin. Or I’ll become gossip below stairs, and that’ll be a short jump to Hemsted’s ears, then to Vincent’s.”
Justin paled. “Sharing our secret with anyone is alarming.”
Faith couldn’t agree more, but she refused to let him see her concern. “Jenny is loyal, Justin. I’m certain of it.”
“You’re too trusting by half, Faith. You must realize that?”
“You’re speaking about Hemsted. I’m speaking about Jenny.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “You’re right. And this is no time for us to argue.”
“I agree.”
When she heard a knock on her bedroom door, Faith crossed from his room to hers, Justin following as far as his doorway. “Who is it?” she called.
“Max Hemsted, Miss Wickham. May I speak to you for a moment? I have news.”
Faith turned to Justin.
He raised his arms as if to say, “You see! There he is, after you again.” Then he banked his expression lowered his arms in defeat, and stepped back to close his door with a gentle click.
She stared at it, fearing that more than a slab of wood stood between them. But there was nothing she could do now. When she opened her door, Hemsted beamed, and despite everything, she smiled. “It must be good news.” Please.
He folded his hands behind his back. “Even if it were bad, I like looking at you.”
She shook her head, amused, even gratified, but she bristled anticipating Justin’s reaction. In a wifely act of rebellion, she went into the hall and shut her door. It was time Justin learned trust. This might not be his hardest lesson, but it would drive him crazy not to hear the conversation.
Twenty minutes later, Faith bid Hemsted a good-evening. She closed her door, leaned against it, and let her false smile go. Lord, she hadn’t been this frightened since she planned to withhold Justin’s medicine. First Jenny, and now this.
Danger rushed them from all directions.
Faith soothed her unborn child. “We’ll keep you safe,” she said. And no putting off the inevitable; Justin needed to know.
As she made the decision, Beth’s door opened and Beth came tearing in, Sally and Jenny right behind. The sprite went straight to her father’s door, grabbed the knob, and faster than Faith could move, Beth opened it and ran in. “Horsy, Poppy!”
Sally and Jenny heard Justin laugh and stepped forward to see into the forbidden room.
With a sigh of resignation, Faith joined them and saw, as did they, the man she loved shaking his head, a little chagrined, a lot handsome, which Sally’s and Jenny’s sighs confirmed.
They probably thought they saw a miracle—a distinguished man, gray at his temples, dashing in a mulberry dressing gown, his daughter in his arms.
They were clearly bemused and smitten with her husband.
Justin set Beth down, took her hand and approached. He bowed, tilted his head in greeting, and bestowed his knee-weakening smile. In response to their besotted grins, he slipped his arm around Faith’s waist. “Well, Faith,” he said. “I believe introductions are in order. Circumstances seem to be moving us forward with the speed of a snowball rolling downhill.”
“You have no idea.” Faith regarded her husband soberly. “Vincent is coming home.”
Justin recovered after a sober bit of thought. “Our course is set then.”
The abigail and nursemaid, even Beth, seemed to sense the gravity in the situation. Faith smoothed Beth’s curls. “That snowball seems to be gaining weight and speed.”
“Sit down, everyone. Please,” Justin said. “We need to talk.”
“The medicine I was giving Justin was poison,” Faith began. “As soon as I suspected, I stopped giving it to him, and in a long, slow process, he began to get well. We’ve kept his recovery a secret because….” She hesitated.
“Someone wants me dead.”
Their loyal retainers’ eyes widened.
“Now,” Justin said. “Faith is my wife, she is increasing, and Vincent is returning, so we have no choice but to leave. If the situation is as I suspect, Faith’s life, and that of our unborn child, are also in danger.”
“We discussed this eventuality, and we’d very much like for you both to go with us,” Faith said.
The girls’ heightened senses of adventure became apparent.
“I would like to remind you that this could be dangerous,” Faith cautioned.
“Yes, miss, my lady—your grace.” Jenny giggled.
“Her grace will say her mother is ill and she must go home, that she’s taking me and Beth, and both of you to help her.” He turned to Faith. “Is that all right? It seems the best reason. You did say your parents would take us in.”
“I could be with my mother when the baby comes.”
Justin nodded. “Good.” He rubbed his hands together. “With allies—he nodded at Sally and Jenny—it’s time to move our army through enemy flanks.”
“Justin Devereux. Are you enjoying this?”
“The army likely to win the war always enjoys a good battle.”
“You’ve lost your wits from being locked up. I perceive no clear road to glory here. Tell me how you expect to leave?”
Justin shook his head. “You returned a dead man to life, Faith. Surely transporting a corpse can’t be such a puzzle. On his back, my dear. On his back.”
“Tell anyone who asks,” he told Jenny and Sally, “That you’re accompanying Faith, her patient and Beth, to her parents’ home. We’re depending a great deal on both of you.”
Sally and Jenny nodded as one, the weight of responsibility now heavy in their looks.
“Thank you,” Justin said, leading them to the door.
The enormity of the move they planned astonished Faith, and by the time Justin returned, she badly needed his comfort.
“I guess this is it,” he said.
Faith nodded. “It’s frightening.”
“Life and death frightening.”
Faith wasn’t ready to explore that right now. She’d barely made peace with their momentous resolve, much less the possible consequences. Instead, she considered details. “We’ll leave word with Mrs. Tucker for Harris to come to
us in Arundel.”
“Don’t you think it would be suspect for you to want my servant after managing without him for so long? Havey-cavey Hemsted will balk as it is over letting you go. If he realizes you want a male servant, he’ll offer to go, himself.”
Her husband’s frown amused her.
“Send word to Harris, at my London house, for him to go to your parents. That way, no one here will know.”
“This is a good solution. Why didn’t we think of it sooner?”
“Events have forced us to act, and it’s not a solution, but the beginning of one. We’re lucky we’re both able to travel, now that it’s imperative we leave. First, I was too ill, and then you were.”
“That’s true. But how do you see this move as the beginning of a solution, Justin? I fear we only postpone the inevitable.”
Justin hugged her. “Where’s the mettle that allowed you to withdraw my medicine? Where’s my feisty, fearless nurse?”
“Frightened…and pregnant.”
“The most imperative reason to go. Even if Vincent didn’t notice that I’m well, he’d certainly notice you with child.
“From Arundel, I’ll get in touch with the scoundrels, Grant and Marcus in London. Gabe, I mean the vicar, would have written to keep them up to date on the entire affair. My friend Carry will come in handy, too. And if none of them are available, there’s always the magistrate. From your parents’ home, Harris will be able to come and go more easily. I’ll be able to go outside, ride a horse. You, Beth and the baby will be safe.”
Faith shivered. “Unless Vincent decides to come to Arundel.”
Two days later, Faith stood at the top of the stairs looking down at Mrs. Tucker, Hemsted, all the servants lined up for her astonishing departure. If she made a mistake, just one….
Trepidation made her hesitate. She should return to their apartment. It wasn’t too late. Except that it was.
Vincent was on his way.
She had not stepped foot below stairs for some time, due to her condition, which allowed the household to assume her patient could not do without her. Now, she adjusted her velvet pistachio cloak to make certain her girth was concealed, took a breath, and stepped onto the topmost stair.
Two footmen carried her patient’s litter, and despite his closed eyes, smudged with kohl, his face dusted with rice powder, and the swaddling to conceal his vigour, Faith knew his heart skittered apace with hers. She’d felt his quickened beat when she kissed him before she opened the door to the footmen. That kiss had come from a nervous man, but surely not from a sick one.
Of everyone, Faith supposed she’d miss Hemsted most. He’d provided conversation when there was none to be had in the sickroom, and offered his hand in friendship. Justin’s man or not, there was something about him that she liked.
He stood as if waiting for some last minute reprieve.
Faith stopped, but under the circumstances, kindness would be heartless. Best say good-bye and be done.
He surprised her by taking her hand. She’d appear rude if she snatched it away, though she was uneasy, given the fervour of his grip. “I think you know how sorry I am to see you leave, Miss Wickham. I shall miss…your smiling face. I hope you find your mother fast recovered and that you come back to us soon.”
Faith retrieved her hand with decorum. “Thank you, Mr. Hemsted. I appreciate your offer to apprise His Grace of my actions, and my reasons for them, though I cannot think it matters where I care for his relatives.” The near-censure in her words caught her unaware. “As long as they are cared for, that is.”
Hemsted gave her a wan smile before he looked to Justin, and Faith stepped between them and offered her hand for the last time.
He took it almost gratefully. “I’ll make his Grace see that you had no choice. I know that Beth and her father are better off with you.”
He was playing into their hands and she was a witch for enticing him. “You’re too kind.”
“Perhaps I’ll come to visit you in Arundel, and see how they fare, if that’s all right with you?”
Faith hesitated. To say no would be suspect. “If you wish.”
He kissed her hand. “Until I see you next, then.”
She was glad Justin had not seen the kiss. “I…look forward to your visit.” Faith turned to Mrs. Tucker and leaned forward for a hug, lest her child make itself known.
Mrs. Tucker wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron. “Good bye, Miss.” She looked at Justin. “Take care of him. I don’t expect it will matter where he…sleeps.” The woman sobbed as she turned away, and Faith felt terrible for the deception.
This was taking so long, Justin must be ready to jump up and walk out on his own. And Beth must be champing at the bit for that ride they’d promised her this morning.
Sally and Jenny would bring her down to their own carriage, after they saw from an upstairs window that Faith and Justin were inside the first.
Toby had been shut inside Beth’s room, so he would stop licking the rice powder off Justin’s face. At the very last minute, Jenny would convey Faith’s order to let him out.
The coaches left in tandem. Faith couldn’t believe she was going home with her husband and daughter.
She only wished her parents had some notion they were coming.
Inside their private carriage, Justin’s litter sat corner to corner, cutting the cab space in half. When she looked over at him, he lay there watching her. “Close the curtains, will you, so I can quit this trap.”
Faith examined the interior, split as it was by his stretcher. “Well, there isn’t much room. Unless you sit on the opposite side of your pallet.”
To her surprise, Justin did sit in the far corner, arms crossed, expression arrogant.
Faith guessed her farewell to Hemsted had rankled as much as she expected.
“I shall miss your smiling face,” Justin mimicked.
“Justin, I—”
“I’m looking forward to your visit! Are you daft? What if he comes to your parents’ house? What will he think when he finds you large with child and me walking around?”
“I didn’t know the polite way to—”
“You should have said good-bye!” Justin snapped, but as soon as he saw her face, he climbed over the stretcher to take her on his lap. “I’m sorry, that was unkind. I wanted to plant him a facer. It wasn’t your fault. You had no recourse but to accept his offer of a visit, else he might have been suspicious. You have become such a watering-pot.”
Faith accepted his handkerchief and blew her nose. “It’s not so much that I’m sensitive, Justin.” She sniffed. “It’s more that you’re insensitive.” She placed the crumpled handkerchief in his hand.
He looked ruefully at it, placed it in his pocket, then settled her against him. “Forgive me and be done with it. You know you’re fond of me, faults and all.”
“Yes, well, that’s what…marriage is, being aware of your partner’s faults and caring as much because of those faults, as despite them.” She had nearly said, “that what’s love is.” Would the pudding-head never learn?
“I’m certainly fond of you with all of your faults,” he said.
“I shall be eternally grateful,” she responded dryly.
“Good. Now, I believe I’ve figured out how to investigate Vincent and the carriage accident myself.”
“You, investigate? How?”
“I should die. Ouch. What did you pinch me for?”
“For speaking of dying when you’ve come so far.”
He kissed her then and she wished it didn’t feel so blasted good. “I mean, it should appear I have died. Vincent would feel as if he had accomplished his task and, perhaps, get careless about covering his trail.”
“I’m listening,” she said.
“Moving away from Killashandra gives us the perfect opportunity to put my plan in motion. Introduce me to neighbours and such as your husband, under a fictitious name, of course, for it has occurred to me that you must arrive with a husband.
” He patted the evidence of their passion.
Faith chuckled. “How will Vincent think you dead, when everyone at Killashandra knows full well that you left with me.”
“That’s why it’ll work. Away from home, we can stage a fictitious funeral. About a week after we arrive, I’d say. You can notify the staff at Killashandra and send a note to Vincent through Hemsted. Tell him you’ll care for Beth for as long as need be. Gabe, my friend, your vicar, can help with funeral arrangements.”
Captive Scoundrel Page 18