The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 6

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  Georgina was weeping copiously. Her companion Kitty looked as though she was about to lose her lunch.

  Viola was staring at her as if she had never seen her before. Jasmine squeezed her hand, her expression one of loving concern.

  "Georgina, Kitty, I think you will understand Jasmine and I saying you are no longer welcome here. Please leave, and don't ever dare presume to come back."

  Georgina nodded. Kitty whispered a horrified if lame apology and departed, not even waiting for her companion.

  Now alone, Georgina stood on the pavement looking around her in confusion. She began to wander off in a daze.

  But Miranda knew only too well how dangerous the streets of Southwark could be. Night was falling. She might have been stupid, mercenary, and promiscuous, but she was still a human being.

  "Jasmine, could you please ask your driver to take Georgina home."

  Jasmine gave the signal and command to go for a doctor and then take Miss Georgina wherever she wished to go, while Miranda went after Georgina, took her arm, and helped her into the vehicle.

  "I’m sorry. So sorry," Georgina sobbed. "I never dreamed that anything like this could ever have—"

  "What's done is done. But if you really wish to make amends for your unwitting part in all these disasters, you can show me you’re sorry by leading a better life. Go home to Somerset, and look after your parents. Try to be kind to your mother. After all, she is getting old and you don't know how much longer you'll be blessed to have her.

  "And be loving towards your sister. She’s a good woman, married to a wonderful man. Don’t forget to look after your cousin Martin. Keep an eye on him too, and his brothers, and wife Eswara."

  "Is Martin really in danger too? All of them?" she asked worriedly.

  Miranda shrugged. "With Castlereagh, who knows. We just have to hope for the best. I took all the files, all your letters. But what could have happened if I hadn’t gone there and raided them doesn’t bear thinking about."

  "Thank you, Miranda. I will try to do better."

  Miranda sighed. "That’s all any of us can do. Off you go. Fetch the doctor for George, please, and then, well, I wish you luck."

  The coach headed off, turning so rapidly around the corner that only two wheels remained on the ground.

  Jasmine had already gone back into the house and Miranda could hear her ordering linens and hot water for George. That left Viola standing stock-still on the pavement waiting for her, a pinched expression on her face.

  Miranda tried to push past the hand reaching out to stay her. "Don’t start, Viola. I haven’t got time. George needs me."

  "I know, I can see that now. I’m sorry. For everything."

  "Sorry?" Miranda said angrily. "You don’t like me. It can’t be helped. But frankly, I don’t give a stuff about your opinion."

  To her surprise, Viola laughed. "I never imagined a quiet little thing like you could be good for George, but Jasmine was right, you’ve been the making of him. He loves you more than he ever thought he fancied me. You have no reason to ever be jealous of me, Miranda, I swear. But I most assuredly envy you."

  That drew the furious woman up short. "Envy me? Why? You have a wonderful husband! Alistair is a marvel," Miranda said sincerely.

  "No, not George. You. What you’ve done with your life. I thought you were a spoiled, stuck-up little prig. Now I can see you suffered a lot of hardship and finally seized your luck, the fate chance gave you.

  "I had a privileged life and did nothing but whine bitterly when I lost it. I would like to think I would have married Alistair no matter what, even if he had lost everything.

  "But if I’m being brutally honest, I can’t say for certain. You gave up everything to be with George. Stayed by his side even when everyone in the world thought he was the scum of the earth. You could have left him at any time, but you didn't. You went out of your way to help him. You took risks that no one but a woman truly in love would ever take.

  "And you, well, helped Sebastian. He won’t tell me everything, but I need to say I'm sorry now, for having been so unkind and misjudged you so badly. And so I need to say thank you as well. For George, and for my brother."

  Miranda nodded then, and gave a half smile. "We might never be bosom companions, Viola, but George sees you as a good friend, so that’s enough for me. We’ll be leaving for Somerset as soon as he’s able to travel. You and Alistair must promise to visit as soon as we’re settled."

  "We’d both like that. Alistair considers you a great friend too. Says you’re the bravest woman he’s ever known."

  Miranda laughed modestly. "I don’t know. A few other Rakehell wives might be ahead of me on that list. My sister-in-law, for example. Matthew’s wife," she clarified, more to herself than Viola. Sisters in law... Two brothers. Two wives... Three as soon as she and George were wed. It all made sense now….

  "What is it?" Viola asked, seeing her expression alter so radically.

  "Nothing, I just need to see George," Miranda said with a tight smile.

  She hurried up the path and to her beloved, now sure of her course of action at last.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Antony Herriot patched George up as best he could, and headed back to the clinic with a few grumblings about him having even more lives than the proverbial cat.

  George groaned. "I thought he’d never leave. I’ve been thinking the most lascivious thoughts about you in that gown. Or rather, out of it. Lock the door and come here—"

  "But George, he said to rest, and—"

  "Would you deny a wounded man his solace, the one thing that can heal him?" George said with a reproachful look designed to thaw her.

  She gave a shocked giggle. "Darling, I hardly think making love with me in these circumstances—"

  "It's the balm of my soul. Cures all hurts in an instant and sets me soaring."

  She smiled at him tenderly. "In that case, how could I be so cruel as to say no."

  She removed her gown and underthings, and was just about to oblige him by getting into bed when there was a tap at the door.

  George groaned.

  "It's probably just our friends making sure your all right."

  "I'm not all right. I 'ave a cockstand I could 'ammer nails with," he said in his best Cockney accent.

  "Sush, George, they'll hear you," she said, barely able to contain her laughter.

  She knew he was trying to make light of what had nearly happened, and loved him for it as she scurried for her silk dressing gown, and at last opened the portal a crack just as there was a second tap at the door.

  "Begging your pardon, Miss, but there are two gentlemen to see Mr. George. They've given their names as Lord Sidmouth and Lord Castlereagh."

  George and Miranda stared at each other. If George had not already been prone, she was sure he would have fallen down.

  George was about to shake his head when Miranda said, "Would you ask them if they would please be so kind as to come up? Do make our apologies as well. Mr. George would normally meet them in the drawing room as honored guests, but he's not supposed to strain himself."

  George said as soon as the butler had left, "Are you sure?"

  She had never seen him look so grim.

  "We have nothing to hide or be ashamed of. I love you."

  "And I you."

  "You can just step out, or put on my--"

  "It matters not. As I said, I have nothing to hide."

  Sidmouth and Castlereagh arrived a short time later, looking around the room, anywhere but at her, clad in the sensual sapphire silk.

  Much to her relief they pretended they did not know her personally.

  Miranda was pleased to note that Castlereagh looked haggard and was sweating profusely. He dared to meet her eyes with an almost pleading gaze.

  A spirit of devilry made her wink at him.

  He started in shock and turned to face George. The introductions at an end, they came straight to the point.

  "We just wanted
to come see how you were, and give you every assurance that we had nothing to do with the events of this afternoon. The Earl of Oxnard was acting on his own behalf to attempt revenge, and from a desire to secure Miranda and her wealth for himself."

  "Kind of you to say so, but you will forgive me if I have my doubts. And wonder why you would take such pains to come here to trouble to explain anything to me?" George asked suspiciously.

  "Because it’s over," Castlereagh said, his voice hoarse. "All of this has gone too far. You’ve served England loyally despite being of French birth. We have no right to ask you to keep serving us.

  "All of the soldiers are home now from the wars. Go to visit Miss Lyons’ family, I beg your pardon, Miss Dane’s, and start a new family. We shall see to it that you have a good pension and—"

  "That’s it? It’s all over, just like that?" George demanded incredulously. "And my brothers?"

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a grim thought struck him. He laughed bitterly, and leaned his head back on the pillow with a sigh. "So this is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for, when you tell me that they really are dead. And I bet they have been for God knows how long, while you've done nothing but string me along like a bloody puppet—" His voice caught, and the tears began to shine in his dark eyes.

  He could feel a vast weight crushing him flat, yet Miranda’s hand in his buoyed him up, and he was almost giddy with relief. After all, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already suspected.

  "No, you know that isn’t true!" Lord Sidmouth said. "We're not quite the monsters you think us. Your brother Simon is alive, we swear it, and Jason is on his last mission. As soon as we find them, we'll tell them to come find you. I give you my word."

  "Forgive me if I doubt you. None of your words have ever meant a damn thing, either of you," George said bitterly.

  "I swear to you, George, so far as we know, they’re alive," Castlereagh insisted. "But the files on them are closed now. No one need ever know. Just in case anyone should ever come looking for Simon, they’ll be referred to a marked grave bearing his name."

  George's eyes sparked lividly. "And just whose body—"

  "You don’t need to know."

  "Of course not." George smiled snidely. "Another donkey for you to lead around by the nose. Get out, the pair of you. You make me sick."

  "One day you’ll see that this was for the best," the brooding Foreign Minister insisted.

  "If I weren’t in such a respectable house, Castlereagh, and in the presence of a lady, I would make you eat those words."

  Miranda lifted her chin. "He’s not worth it, my love. Well, thank you for stopping by to tell us the news, and I trust we won't be seeing either of you ever again, unless it's at your funerals."

  All three men stared at her, goggle-eyed.

  "Always a pleasure, Lord Castlereagh," she said with a knowing look and inflection on the word ‘pleasure’ which the man couldn’t fail to catch as she ushered him out.

  Sebastian had heard who had come to call, and was waiting outside their bedroom door, ready for action if need be.

  "Sebastian, I believe you know these gentlemen," she said with a subtle stress on the word ‘know.’

  "I most certainly know Lord Castlereagh," he said with a suggestive leer.

  It had its intended effect. Castlereagh blanched and choked.

  "Would you be so kind as to show them out? Goodbye. With any luck, we shan’t ever meet again. So long as we both keep our sides of the bargain. I want Simon by the end of the month, do you hear me?" she said in an undertone.

  "I’m telling you, we really don’t know—"

  "Aye, because you tried to poison him and he guessed what you were up to and fled from Bedlam. After everything you did to the poor man, was it really necessary to try to kill him?"

  "It was for the good of the—"

  She shook her head. "Spare me. You're the one who tried to unleash Napoleon on all of us again. So don't tell me it was for the good of the country. It was only to keep yourself in power. Prinny, excuse me, the King, has no need of men of your ilk in peace time, now does he.

  "You can use Napoleon as a scarecrow only so long, you know, to deny people their rights and freedoms, like the slaves and the Irish, but a time will come when they shall be emancipated. God help you both if you ever live that long."

  "One day you'll understand and thank me--"

  She shook her head. "The kind of cruelty you've perpetrated is never justified. So just spare your attempts to try to convince me that incarcerating a sane man in a mad house and feeding him opium is anything other than depraved.

  "So get out. I’m sick of the sight of your lugubrious face. George and I have had enough of London. We’ll be staying with my sister in Millcote until we see what George’s property Ferncliffe Castle is like. If you get any word of Simon, send it to me there. Goodbye."

  Lord Sidmouth had wisely stayed out of the exchange until now. Finally he nodded. "We shall. I promise."

  "Good. See that you keep your word. Farewell."

  Sebastian smirked, rolled his eyes, pursed his lips, and minced for Castlereagh’s benefit all the way down to the front door. Castlereagh couldn’t leave fast enough.

  Miranda smiled bitterly as she watched them go, and shook her head. It was the least Castlereagh deserved. But would Sebastian ever be able to put everything in his horrendous past behind him at last?

  She sighed. She was sorry she had got him involved, but it had been his choice, his agreement to the blackmail. Well, at least she knew whose side he was really on now. She only hoped he wouldn't pay a bitter price for it at some point in the future.

  Then she turned back to her own room. Only time would tell. She couldn’t solve everyone’s problems. But she hoped to make a start on George’s in Somerset.

  She forced a bright smile onto her face, and returned to her husband to cater to his every need. Which, after all, was hers as well, she thought with a sultry smile as she began to undo the silk ties of her wrapper.

  "There you are, my love. Lock that door and come here."

  "Are you sure—"

  "Never more so. I've just had the best news of my life, and have every intention of celebrating." He took her hand to kiss it, then gave a light tug to tumble her onto the bed with a breathy laugh.

  "Mmm, I do so love your parties a deux."

  His hands began to rove over her with a bold but tender sureness that had her whole body opening to him in an instant.

  "And I love you, Miranda. Now that it's all over, I have every intention of spending the rest of my days showing you just how much."

  "Mmm, when you do that, I can certainly feel how much. Oh, oh yes…."

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Three days later, George and Miranda’s coach was filled with all their worldly possessions from London that they wished to keep. They departed Fulham House amid many hugs and tears from the Grants and Marshall's and Sebastian, who patted her on the shoulder and said she would hear from him as soon as he had news. Then they were on their way to Millcote, enjoying a leisurely trip into the country far different from the last nightmarish ones they had taken only a few months before due to the cunning of the Earl of Oxnard.

  This time, all was relaxed and tranquil, with the two lovers stopping along the route whenever the fancy took them as they made their way down to Somerset, stopping at fine inns and enjoying the best food and drink each establishment had to offer.

  "It's like a honeymoon," she said with a warm kiss as they got ready for bed in a low-beamed chamber in an inn she was sure was from the time of Shakespeare himself.

  "I certainly wish it could have been, my love, but with one thing and another, it seems like we never have time for anything."

  "And yet all the time in the world," she said with a smoldering look before helping him to remove his shirt and trousers.

  "And when we're together like this, it's as if time stands still."

  "Or goes too quickly."
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  "Ah, yes, 'time's winged chariot hurrying near'," he quoted.

  "It's nearly run us both over a few times," she said, wrinkling her nose.

  "No need to remind me, love."

  "You're sure you're all right, though? I mean, between your stab wound and nearly being shot--"

  "If you have any doubts on that score, I mustn't be making love to you as thoroughly as you'd like," he said with a grin.

  "Oh, you tease," she said, cuffing him on the shoulder lightly. "You know what I mean."