by Allison Lane
His eyes blazed with regret at signing the transfer. Her intentions terrified him, but he no longer held the means to control her.
“We must first quash these rumors,” stated Lady Castleton. “You will accompany us this evening, Tobias. I will raise the subject of Heflin’s claims soon after we reach the ballroom. You will deny that any arrangement was made. Admit that he requested permission to pay his addresses, but insist that you refused. Is that clear? You refused his suit based on his reputation as a libertine. He has never been a contender for her hand. You will also announce that Melissa’s guardianship passed into my hands upon your father’s death.”
“He will kill me,” he protested.
“Tobias!” she snapped, straightening into an iron-willed avenger who dominated the room. “You will protect your sister!”
“But—”
“Heflin will not harm you if you follow my instructions to the letter. You will not visit the clubs. You will not leave this house unaccompanied. You will remain sober at all times and never step away from company, even for an instant. We will find the evidence to prove fraud. Once he has been forced to flee England, you may do as you please.”
Indecision twisted his face.
“Are you going to protect Melissa, or must I send you home?” demanded Lady Castleton. “Heflin’s thugs will easily find you there.”
“I will do as you say,” he sighed at last.
“Repeat your story,” she ordered.
He parroted her version of reality.
“Excellent. Go change into evening dress.”
He left.
“Why did he delay his journey so long?” asked Melissa.
Lady Castleton grimaced. “That boy is heading for a bad end. Saunders discovered him sprawled unconscious in the library. It took two days to sober him up enough to talk sensibly, and two more to browbeat him into helping you. They stayed at Drayton for another week to allow his injuries to heal, although he still suffers from broken ribs. Saunders also had to augment his wardrobe. He can do you little good if he cannot appear in public.”
“I do not trust him, Grandmama.”
“He will do for the moment. Wresting your guardianship from his hands was the most important thing. Even if he refuses to renounce Heflin, he can no longer pose a threat. But I suspect that we can force a public admission that no betrothal was arranged.”
“And then he can leave. He can be naught but an embarrassment if he stays. His drinking must have worsened. I’ve never seen him look so bad.”
“We will hold him to a healthy regimen. Fear of another attack will keep him in the house. The staff has already has orders to provide no wine, even at meals. I cannot afford to have him drunk. Good food should improve his constitution. What he does later is up to him. If he is smart, he will continue, but I’ve little faith in that.”
The evening progressed as planned. Though Toby’s appearance surprised much of society, his statements were accepted without question. Melissa was again surrounded by an enormous court. Toby managed to stay sober, eschewing the wine available for the gentlemen.
“How did you talk him into coming to town?” asked Charles as they twirled down the line of a country dance.
“Grandmama can be forceful when necessary. And Toby has always bent with every breeze. I only hope he does not embarrass me before he leaves.”
“What will Heflin do now?”
“I do not know. Toby is terrified. Heflin already set men on him for not paying his vowels. Grandmama made him resign my guardianship before he realized all the implications. He already rues that. This will not stop Heflin from wreaking revenge on either of us.” She shivered. “We must force him into leaving England, but that means proving that he cheats.”
“How do you know about that? I have been looking for evidence for weeks,” admitted Charles. “But so far I’ve come up empty.”
Surprise jerked Melissa’s eyes up to his. He was searching too? He must have started before he learned that Heflin wished her harm. “Why?”
“He fleeced a friend of mine last summer.”
“Mr. Crawford, I suppose. Have you discovered anything?”
“Not yet, but I will talk to your brother. Perhaps he can offer a clue.”
Melissa abandoned the subject, but she could not get it out of her mind. Here was another case of Charles exerting himself in an unselfish way, for he had no personal stake in exposing a Captain Sharp. Might he truly care for others? A warm glow settled in her heart.
* * * *
“What is the meaning of the tale I heard last night?” demanded Lord Heflin as he limped across the morning room.
“What tale was that?” replied Toby uncertainly.
Heflin stooped over Drayton, determination glaring from his eyes. “Rumor claims that you deny promising me your sister.” Dangerous undercurrents vibrated through his voice.
Toby cast wild eyes around the room, freezing when Lady Castleton appeared in the doorway. Her glare was even more potent than Heflin’s. He remembered the transfer of guardianship.
“You know I denied your suit,” he answered thinly.
“Good morning, my lord.” Lady Castleton swept regally into the room. Heflin stepped back in surprise, allowing Toby to skitter away. She took a seat between them, and motioned both to sit.
“You cannot have forgotten our talk,” swore Heflin, ignoring her greeting to address Toby.
“Lord Heflin,” snapped her ladyship. “You forget your manners. We have tolerated more than enough of your dastardly insinuations. Both my granddaughter and my grandson have denied your claims. I will not listen to another word on the subject.”
“You cannot squirm out of it with lies, Drayton,” Heflin growled. “I will tell the world exactly what you said and why.”
“You may say whatever you like,” declared Lady Castleton. “But few will believe you, and ruining each other cannot affect Lady Melissa. Tobias is not her guardian. Now enough of this farce—” But Heflin was no longer listening.
“You swore—” he turned furious eyes to Toby, springing to his feet as if to attack.
Lady Castleton cut him off. “Enough!” she barked, rising to her full height and blocking his path. “Your behavior is offensive, sir. I will not have a brawl in my drawing room. Depart at once, and do not return.”
Barnes appeared in the doorway, Heflin’s hat and cane in his hands. Two footmen stood behind him. Impotent rage glared from Heflin’s face, but he bowed stiffly and departed.
“You will remain in the house,” she ordered Toby. “Use the time to recall everything you can about those card games. Melissa is right. We must find evidence of cheating.”
The following week, Toby and Melissa joined George’s party at Vauxhall Gardens, arranged to celebrate his betrothal to Clara.
Melissa was enthralled by the fairyland appearance of the gardens, with their thousands of lights and multiple attractions. A puppet theater entertained laughing crowds, far enough removed from the concert plaza to make the dialogue audible. A rope dancer plied her arts near the pavilions.
George’s group listened to the concert and admired the cascade before adjourning to the supper boxes, where congratulations were the order of the evening. Making the usual jokes about leg-shackles and mousetraps seemed silly in light of his glowing happiness.
“Are you enjoying your brother’s visit?” asked Charles softly. He slid a plate containing wafer-thin slices of ham and beef in front of her, then offered lemonade.
“As long as he is not drinking.” She frowned as Toby helped himself to another glass of rack punch.
“Perhaps I should show him the Hermit’s Walk,” Charles suggested, forgoing his need to talk to her. He was still trying to live down his actions at the Riverton ball. “We can discuss those card games. Maybe he can offer a clue to how Heflin does it.”
She nodded, smiling as he deftly detached Toby from the group and led him away. Matt claimed the vacant place at her side and joined
her humorous discussion with the Hartfords.
“The fireworks will begin soon,” announced George some time later. Everyone rose to head for the knoll that offered the best view.
Matt offered Melissa his arm. “Have you ever seen fireworks?”
“Never. Are they as spectacular as I have been told?”
“Better.” He entertained her with descriptions of other shows he had watched, including the special ones two years earlier that had celebrated the victory at Waterloo. In the jostling crowd they became separated from the rest of their group.
“Not to worry,” he shrugged. “We will all return to the box afterward.”
And she did not worry, for Mr. Crawford had been the perfect gentleman since arriving in town. If anything, he treated her better than he did others, perhaps because he was still embarrassed over the previous summer. They never mentioned it, but she saw the discomfort in his eyes.
Melissa squealed with delight as rockets burst in dazzling displays of colored fire. Catherine wheels brought gasps of pleasure from the gathered crowd. Matt’s comments on the history of fireworks and his descriptions of how the shells were loaded led to an animated discussion when the show was over. He had an avid interest in pyrotechnics and had visited many specialists. Melissa suddenly realized that most of the crowd had dispersed.
“This is fascinating, Matt, but we had best be getting back.” She sighed. “My grandmother will worry if I am too long absent.”
“Of course.” He helped her to her feet, placing her hand on his arm. They retraced their steps to the main concourse.
“Toby is looking better than I expected,” Matt commented, drawing her aside as a group of inebriated gentlemen and squealing females chased one another recklessly along. “Has he turned over a new leaf?”
“Time will tell. Grandmama refuses to allow him anything to drink while he stays in her house. Whether he continues that course on his own, I would not dare to guess.” She shrugged.
He shook his head, angling away from the entrance to the infamous Dark Walk. “He has set himself on a ruinous course. It is painful to watch, as you must know. But it wasn’t always that way. He was a good lad when he arrived at school, though he had a tendency to recklessness. And he was quite the best horseman—” His voice abruptly ceased as rough hands jerked him aside, a fist smashing into his jaw. It was over in a moment, his unconscious form slumped on the ground.
Melissa tried to scream, but the attacker covered her mouth and dragged her along the darkened path. Not until they had rounded two corners did he turn her to face him and remove his hand.
She screamed.
“It will do you no good, my dear,” sneered Heflin. “No one pays attention to such sounds here. They are much too common.”
His arms pulled her closer, his mouth already descending to her own. She turned her head aside and screamed again.
“You are adding to your debts,” he growled, grabbing her buttocks to grind her against him. Her fear was already increasing his lust.
“Cad!” She spat in his eye, and tried to push him away.
Smacking her cheek, he twisted her arms behind her and pinned her against a tree. His freed hand wrenched her face up to his. Revulsion engulfed her as he forced his tongue into her mouth.
She bit him.
“Bitch!” he growled, ripping her dress to her waist.
Nausea welled. This bestial attack had nothing to do with love. There was no pleasure to be found in so violent a confrontation. Darkness threatened even as she continued the hopeless fight, stomping sharply on his foot and freeing one hand to claw deeply into his face. He jerked his head back, hissing in fury.
Before she could draw breath to scream again, someone pushed through the adjacent shrubbery and attacked. She hardly took in the brawl that followed, instead collapsing to the ground, one hand feebly trying to pull her gaping gown together.
* * * *
Charles endured Toby’s inane chatter for more than an hour. It rapidly became clear that the fellow was too stupid to have suspected cheating, and had been too drunk to remember any of the games. How could so hulking a toad have so exquisite a sister?
He was heading back to Rufton’s box when they chanced across a group of bucks, some of whom knew Drayton. They were harmless fellows, Charles decided, excusing himself.
But the box was empty. The fireworks display was starting. It was useless to look for one group in the darkness of the grassy knoll, so he sighed and settled in to wait.
An hour later he was taut with worry. Melissa and Matt had not returned.
He was being ridiculous, he fumed at himself. There was no one with whom she would be safer. Matt had vowed to help him protect her.
But he could not ignore his fear. No one was responsible when drunk, and Matt had the lowest tolerance for wine he had ever encountered. Charles headed for the viewing area.
It was empty. Were they wandering the side paths? He ducked down the first trail, nearly running its length before doubling back on the next. A distant scream pierced his ears. Despite all logic, he knew it was Melissa. He thrust through shrubs to the next walk as she screamed again. He had the direction now and could picture exactly where she was – on the second turn of the Dark Walk.
Charles knew Vauxhall very well. He had conducted numerous liaisons in its quieter corners, and he knew the Dark Walk like the back of his hand. Racing along the adjacent trail until he was opposite the second corner, he pushed through the surrounding shrubbery. A half-unconscious Melissa was pinned against a tree. Fury nearly blinded him.
He attacked.
* * * *
A loud thud pulled Melissa out of her haze. Charles stood over a prostrate Heflin, whose jaw sagged beneath a nose that bled profusely. He prodded his adversary, but Heflin did not move.
“Are you all right, Melissa?” he asked, kneeling beside her, his breath coming in gasps.
“I th-think so.” She let him pull her up.
“Let’s get away from here.” He led her through the darkness until they came to a shelter. Moonlight filtered through sparser trees.
“Dear Lord,” she shuddered as light revealed her disheveled appearance. “I can’t go back like this.” She was a mess. Her torn dress gaped. Her hair was down on one side, and a growing bruise already discolored her cheek.
Charles fought down renewed fury. “Now that the fireworks are concluded, Lady Castleton will be ready to leave,” he assured her. Few sticklers remained at Vauxhall into the wee hours of the morning. “If you wrap my cloak around you, you can escape notice. It is chilly enough to excuse borrowing it.”
“Right,” she agreed, her teeth chattering – though Charles suspected reaction to events rather than to the cold. Her hands fumbled with her gown, unable to obey even simple commands.
“Let me help you,” he offered, swirling his cloak over her shoulders. He automatically reached down to better arrange her dress. And that was a mistake. His thumb could not resist brushing her breast, drawing a gasp that fueled his own passion. She was the most responsive lady he had ever known.
“Melissa,” he groaned, drawing her tightly into his arms.
She responded. The emotional chaos of the evening had driven reason into hiding. Her only thought was that she was safe. So very safe. And cherished. His love enveloped her even more warmly than his cloak. She lifted her face, opening her mouth to his kiss.
Without thinking, he maneuvered her into the shelter, his hand teasing her exposed breast. Her moans spurred him on as he sank onto a bench, pulling her onto his lap and lowering his lips to her nipple.
“Dear Lord, Charles,” she gasped, arching into his touch. Every caress ignited new fires. Nothing mattered but that she loved him.
“Melissa,” he panted, returning to her lips even as a distant shout penetrated his fading conscience, reminding him where he was. And with whom. He managed to muffle his curses into gibberish. How was he to prove himself responsible if he could not keep his hands of
f of her?
She protested as he stood and set her on her feet.
“Forgive me, my dear,” he begged, hastily draping his cloak completely around her to hide that delectable body from sight. “I am sorry to have led you astray again. But you can hardly claim indifference. Please, Melissa? Please? I love you. I want you. I need you. Please marry me.”
She shook herself to clear her head. “This is not the time, Charles,” she begged. “Too much has happened tonight. I cannot think straight."
If he had not stopped, the decision would be made, whispered that voice.
The thought widened her eyes. He could have won right now, but he was allowing her to make her own decision. And she had to respect him for it.
“Very well, my love.”
“Where did you leave Toby?” she asked once he had skillfully repinned her hair and straightened his cravat. By resolute concentration, she had restored her breathing to normal and reclaimed her composure. He had been visibly fighting for his own control.
“He should be fine. We met a group of gentlemen he knew from school. All are unexceptionable, so I left him with them. He should already have returned to the box.”
She took his proffered arm. “Let’s make this quick.”
“You must stay in the shadows, love.” Anger flicked through his voice. “That swine bruised your cheek.”
But Toby was not at the box. Nor was Matt.
“I will find them,” he promised Lady Castleton, speaking softly so no one else would suspect a problem.
Matt was easy. He’d recovered consciousness and was searching for Melissa. But it took them more than an hour to find Toby. His unconscious body was shoved under the shrubbery alongside the Dark Walk.
Chapter Fifteen
Melissa received Charles in the drawing room almost indecently early the next morning. She had got little sleep, for the evening’s events had kept her pacing much of the night.
Heflin was no longer an irritation. His assault had put to rest any hope that he would leave her alone. Even accepting Charles would not remove that threat. Heflin no longer cared for public opinion, or even civilized behavior, wanting only to destroy her.