The Wild Belle (St. John Series)

by Lora Thomas

  Michael was out of his chair and across the desk in an instant. Before Matthew could react, Michael had his older brother pressed to the wall by his shirt, which was no easy feat since Matthew was a good three inches taller than his brother.

  “Michael!” Andrea yelled in protest.

  At the same time Matthew warned, “Put me down, Runt, before I have to put you in your place in front of your beautiful wife.”

  Andrea walked cautiously over to the two men and placed her hand on Michael’s arm. “Gentlemen, please. I have a more pressin’ matter to attend to than an insult to my person.”

  Michael loosed his grip on his brother and began smoothing Matthew’s shirt down. He tapped the side of Matthew’s face roughly. “Don’t insult my wife.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I’ll shoot you,” Andrea said as she walked back to her chair, gently sat down and smoothed out her peach gown.

  “Shoot me?”

  “She’s a crack shot, Matt. I’ve seen her shoot the cap off a man’s head at twenty paces,” Michael said, turning. He winked at Andi at his fabrication, but Matthew need not know that.

  Matthew sat down in his chair and looked at the trio across from him. His brother, his new sister-in-law, and her . . . chaperone? “How did this happen, Runt?”

  “I’ll explain later,” Michael answered. He picked up his drink and downed it in one swallow. “Is Mouse still hanging around Emerald Shipping’s docks?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “I have a job for him. Hope you don’t mind keeping an eye on my wife until I return.”

  “I need some answers,” Matthew protested.

  “Please,” Andrea beseeched, giving him a doe-eyed look. “My sister has been taken and I am desperate to find her.”

  Taking a frustrated breath, Matthew nodded his head. “Yes. Since she is family, she may stay here until you return.”

  Michael nodded his head. “I’ll be back shortly,” he said, exiting the building.

  Matthew leaned back in his chair and crinkled his forehead while he studied his new sister-in-law.

  She smiled sweetly at him. “Why do you call Michael ‘Runt’?”

  “What?”

  “Runt? I heard you call him that several times. Why?”

  “He’s the smallest of us all.”

  “Nine brothers, is that correct?”

  “No eight—” An annoyed expression crossed his handsome face. “Aw, hell, that’s right there are nine of us now. I keep forgetting about Max. He told you about him?”

  “Yes. And about your sister, too.”

  “You’re in for a treat with her. She was kidnapped by pirates, you know. Twice.”

  “So I heard.”

  “I find it hard to believe that Michael told you all that.”

  “He didn’t. I heard it from my sister.”

  “He told your sister, but not you?”

  “Yes, you see it was her coming out and she was nervous. So he told her stories to help her relax.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Yes. But, unfortunately, she won’t be able to meet any of her callers because . . . ,” Andrea took a shallow breath and rapidly blinked her eyes, “. . . because she was kidnapped.” She placed her head in her hands. “It’s all my fault!” she wailed.

  “Miss Andi, it ain’t your fault,” Ruth Ann said and pulled a handkerchief out of her valise and handed it to her mistress. “It was my fault. I tried ta stop him, but he was just too strong.”

  Matthew watched as both women began to cry. He ran his hands through his hair. He could not handle one sobbing woman, but now he had two in his office. Walking around his desk he sat in the chair vacated by Michael. He patted his sister-in-law’s hand. “Look . . . look . . . hell, I don’t even know your name.”

  Andi looked up and wiped her nose. “It’s Andrea, but everyone calls me Andi.”

  “Look, Andrea. I am assuming that whoever kidnapped your sister brou—”

  “Egbert Peterson,” Andi interrupted.

  Matthew’s eyes grew wide. “Did you say Peterson?” At Andi’s nod, he said, “Bloody hell,” he mumbled. Clenching his jaw, he said, “Eli should have killed that bastard years ago.”

  “That’s what Michael keeps sayin’. What has he done to your family?”

  Matthew gave Andi a tight-lipped smile. “Something that cannot be forgiven, and if you have the right connections, imprisoned for either. But as I was saying, Mouse will know how to find your sister.”

  Andrea looked hopefully towards Matthew. “Really?”

  “Yes. Now do not worry your pretty little head about it.”

  “I can’t help it. She’s my baby sister.”

  “I know how you feel, my dear. It is difficult to deal with a disappearance of a family member. Why did Peterson abduct her anyway?”

  Andrea explained, “My family wanted me to marry, but I did not. So Pappy signed a marriage contract for Egbert and I to marry. That was before we found out about him. He threatened my sisters should I refuse to marry him. Anyway, Michael agreed to look at the contract to see if there was a way to break it. Unfortunately the only way out was for me to either be caught in a compromising situation or carrying another man’s child.”

  Matthew looked out of the corner of his eyes at her and then rubbed his lips together. “So how did you end up married to Runt?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know the answer.

  Andrea blushed and looked downward. This was not a topic she wanted to discuss with a total stranger. And not just a total stranger, but her brother-in-law, too.

  “You two were caught together. Am I correct?” Matthew questioned.

  Andi kept her eyes fixated on the floor and nodded her head. She then looked up and over to her brother-in-law. She watched a humorous smile cross his face. “It’s not funny! And nothing happened!” she defended.

  He laughed at her defense. “Like hell it’s not. It was only a matter of time before my little brother’s exploits caught up with him. But I must say . . . ,” Before he could finish, he watched her expression change from embarrassment to that of someone wanting to cause bodily harm. Holding up his hands in a surrender pose, he continued, “Let me finish.”

  “Ruth Ann, where’s my pistol?”

  “Egad, you’re a hellcat,” Matthew exclaimed as his laughter carried throughout the room. “I’m glad you two are married. Michael needs a feisty woman in his life. Someone who will give him hell.”

  “Ruth Ann?” Andi questioned angrily.

  Before Ruth Ann could say a word, Matthew intervened, “I believe you. If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened. Now, I assume that Peterson took your sister as an act of revenge for Michael marrying you?”

  Andi nodded her head. She explained about Peterson’s threats, her family and sisters. Matthew listened intently to her. When she had finished her story, he patted her hand.

  “Peterson will not harm her. He lives for money. He knows that if any harm comes to her, then he won’t get a shilling. Once Michael gets back, I will send one of my men to scour the area as well. Between the four of us—

  “Five. I plan on helping,” Andi interrupted.

  “Six,” Ruth Ann chimed in.

  Matthew looked between the two determined women. He could tell from their expressions there was no use in arguing otherwise. “Six of us, we will find her. I will have my man watch the docks. If Peterson so much as looks at a ship, we’ll have him.

  Andrea smiled sweetly at Matthew. “Thank you.”

  He studied his sister-in-law. It was no wonder Michael agreed to marry her. Matthew knew his brother, and even if Michael had a cannon to his back, no one could force him to wed. But he saw how Runt watched her. He was intrigued by his brother’s wife. She was not only beautiful, but had a presence about her that calmed one’s nerves. She was a lady, through and through, not like the tavern wenches Michael normally socialized with. This one would even please their mother. Yes indeed, she was a true lad
y . . . in dress and demeanor.

  Michael returned a little while later. “I left instructions with Mouse to notify us immediately if he hears or sees anything. I even informed him to come to your townhome, if needed.”

  “Very good,” Matthew replied. An appalled expression crossed his face. “Wait! Why my home?”

  Michael smiled at his brother. “Now, you don’t expect us to stay in a hotel, do you?”

  “Hells teeth, Michael. It’s a bachelor’s residence. What about one of our aunts’ homes? Or Gram’s?”

  “The thought of staying with Mother’s sister is out. All she does is degrade the entire family. Father’s sister has a houseful living with her already. Gram is old, Matt. She doesn’t like company. So until we find Alyssa, your home is now a family home.”

  A deflated noise escaped Matthew. “I’ll hail a hack,” he mumbled and headed out the door. Just what he needed . . . his brother, a new maid, and a woman too beautiful for words under his roof. Why did Michael have to be the one to land such an angel? He knew he should have volunteered to go to South Carolina. It just wasn’t right. Michael had the most beautiful women following him wherever he went and now he had married one. Michael might have been his younger brother, but apparently he knew more about women than the rest of them. Maybe he should swallow his pride and ask his little brother his secret. At that thought Matthew gave a disgusted chuckle. Hell would freeze over before he asked advice from his brother, especially the runt.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Three days. Three long days in London and still no word from Mouse. Michael and Matthew had looked everywhere for Peterson, but to no avail. Peterson wasn’t at his townhouse or his mistress’s. They investigated every gambling establishment and brothel in all of London. He wasn’t even at his mother’s house. Peterson’s mother said she hadn’t seen him since he left to go to his uncle’s over three months before.

  Andi turned towards her husband. He was packing a small bag. Peterson had a country estate near Chesham and Michael planned on looking there.

  “Stay here, Andi. I don’t want you wandering around in London. It is a dangerous town if you do not know your way around.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. You have no say in the matter. She is my sister.”

  “And you’re my wife!” was his sharp reply, crossing the room to her.

  “Don’t try to discourage me by yelling at me. I have had too many people yell at me for loud voices to dissuade me from doing anything,” she hissed.

  “You still are not going.”

  “Do you think you can stop me?”

  “Andi, Peterson is a dangerous man. I will not be able to search for Alyssa if I’m too busy trying to protect you.”

  “Who says I need your protection?”

  “I do,” Michael said as he took Andi by her upper arms. “If you disobey me on this—”

  “You’ll what? Hit me? Send me to my room? Oh, wait, I know, you’ll leave me. You have already made that clear before we left Beaufort.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember? You were going to leave me there so I could go on with my life and you yours. I know I’m a hindrance to you, other than in bed, but you will have to tolerate me only until we find my sister, then you can have your freedom.”

  “I have no intention of leaving you, Andi. And you are not a hindrance to me. A pain in my arse, yes. A distraction beyond belief, yes. But a hindrance? Far from it,” Michael said in a soft voice.

  “Really? If that was a compliment, it was awful!” She jerked her arm free and walked behind the dressing screen, tossing her robe over the top as she passed behind.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Changing clothes.”

  “I told you, you are not going, Andi.”

  She emerged from behind the dressing screen wearing her male attire. “I’m not going with you, Michael,” she hotly replied and began braiding her hair.

  “You are not leaving this house wearing that,” he said as he pointed to her pants.

  “What do you care?”

  “You’re my wife, that’s why I care!”

  “Well, from the way I heard it, you never had a need for a wife, so why should I oblige you?”

  “Who told you that?!”

  “You did!” she yelled.

  “I never said such a thing!”

  “I overheard you tell it to your brother last evening. I believe your exact words were you ‘have no need nor desire for a wife’.” She turned from him before he could see her tears. To hide her face from him, she lowered her head and began twisting her braid into a bun.

  “You are overreacting to a private conversation.”

  “Do you deny that you said it?!”

  “No, I said it. But if you would have heard the beginning of the conversation, you would know I was referring to when I was younger.”

  “Well, what about now? Do you have a need or desire for a wife?” she snapped, turning towards him, with tear-streaked cheeks.

  Michael looked at his wife and took a step towards her. She held out her hand. “Don’t.”

  “Andi. I was furious when we married. I had no desire for a wife, that much was true. But now I find that I cannot breathe without you near. I told you I loved you, what more do you want?”

  “Did you mean it or were you feeling sorry for me?”

  “The last thing I can ever do is feel sorry for you. You are such a proud defiant woman. You are clever and smart. You are too beautiful for words and so desirable that I find I can think of nothing but finding a way to get you into bed. No words can express how much I love you, Andi. My only hope is that one day you will return my feelings.” He crossed to her then and took her into his arms. “I promise you this, Pixie, I will be good to you. You will have everything that you desire. I just ask that you give me a chance to make you love me. Do you see now why I don’t want you to go with me? If anything happened to you, I could not live with myself.”

  “You have no choice. I go with my husband. Besides I am my mother’s daughter, in more ways than one.”

  Michael gave a small chuckle. “Why do I even try with you?”

  “Because you would love to tell all your friends that pixies can be tamed.”

  “True.” Michael looked down into his wife’s eyes. Her determination was evident. He took an exasperated breath and conceded. “Very well. Pack a few things, wife. We will be gone four or five days.” Michael walked over to a chest of drawers and pulled out a pistol. He handed it to Andi. “And if you are your mother’s daughter, then I hope you don’t shoot me.”

  “Just as long as there are not any roosters about, you are safe.”

  Michael laughed. How did he manage to get involved with this untamable pixie?

  * * * *

  Late the following afternoon Michael and Andi arrived at Peterson’s country estate. It was an old rundown stone home. The outside was gray with dark patches of mold covered in ivy, giving it a fairytale appearance, one where the villain would live—which was exactly what Peterson was. All it needed was a swirling vortex of smoke, bats encircling the roof and evil gargoyles guarding the gate.

  Michael looked around the grounds. No one was around, not even a groundskeeper. He pressed his back to the large tree that he was hiding behind. He looked down at Andi, who was hunkered down behind a rose hedge.

  “It appears no one is home. We will wait until dark to approach, just to be safe,” Michael whispered.

  “But we’re so close,” Andi insisted in a whine.

  “Yes. And if we march across the lawn now, he will see us. The dark will hide our presence.”

  “But he knows his house. How will we find him in it? It could have numerous hidden passages.”

  “True, but that’s a risk we’ll have to take.”

  “Fine,” Andi snapped, sitting down behind a large rose bush. The wind blew gently causing the bush to
move, pressing the thorns into her neck. Andi readjusted her position. As she did so, she leaned forward and saw a coach approach. “We have company,” she whispered to Michael.

  He lowered down beside her and motioned for her to follow him to the other side of the rose hedges. Michael peered around the hedge and could make out the coat of arms on the side of the carriage. Peterson’s coach pulled up to the front of the large home. Peterson emerged, alone, and entered the coach. The coach then left, heading back the direction of London.

  Michael kept his hiding position until the coach disappeared from sight. He looked over to Andrea and motioned his head in the direction of the house. They both crept along the hedges until they ended and then darted towards the main entrance. Pressing their backs against the cold stones, they cautiously slid along the outer perimeter of the home until they reached the front door. Michael peered into the window beside the door. No one was inside. He cautiously opened the door, which creaked loudly in protest as the couple made their way inside.

  “Let’s start upstairs,” Michael whispered.

  “No, you look down here. I’ll look upstairs.” At Michael’s skeptical look, Andi elaborated, “We can cover more ground faster.”

  “Fine,” he reluctantly admitted. “But if anyone tries to harm you, you shoot first, ask questions later.”

  “You just keep that in mind,” she countered as she headed up the stairs.

  When she approached the first door, the pungent smell of mold and dust invaded her senses. She covered her mouth with her hand and pushed the door open the rest of the way. A cobweb wrapped around her head. She danced around and swatted into the air attempting to remove the sticky web, wiping her face repeatedly until her face was clean of it. Spitting on the floor, she glanced up and was glad no one was there to observe her dance. The wind blew causing the curtains to shift, allowing light into the room. The large dusty specks floating in the air resembled dancing snowflakes. The next four rooms were just as empty, with only dusty floors and damp tattered curtains—and thankfully lacking the cobwebs. She turned and walked down the stairs. Michael was waiting on her at the bottom.