If He's Dangerous

by Hannah Howell

  “So you are going for a walk,” he said. “Might I join you for at least part of it?”

  “Of course,” Lorelei replied, “but why only part of it?”

  “I have to go into the village because there is a woman there who is having a difficult birth. Your father asked me to meet him there. I gather the woman is important to him?”

  “Papa does not believe we know, but she was his mistress a few years ago.”

  “So not his child then.”

  “No. Papa told my older brothers that one must be very careful when bedding the lasses and try to keep his seed from taking root. He then went on and told them the many ways, stressing the one that will also protect them from the pox.”

  “I cannot believe he would have such a discussion with his sons with you sitting there.”

  “No, had my ear pressed up against the keyhole. Then Max caught me, so I did not hear any more of it. Max told me later that, since my father understands boys very well, having been one himself, the latter part of the talk is all about the worst of the nasty diseases you can catch if you are not careful.” She smiled when Olympia and Septimus laughed. “He must have been very convincing because for several months afterward, all Philip, the heir who is second in line, could talk about was how he was sure he had a calling to serve God and maybe he should join the church. Papa had to inform him that, unless he became a Catholic, that would make little difference as there would be no vows of celibacy. He persisted for a little longer, but then he met the milkmaid.”

  They stepped outside to a lovely summer day and started walking, talking nonsense most of the way. It lightened Lorelei’s spirit, which she suspected was their intent. Although it was somewhat embarrassing to have her feelings read so easily, she was grateful for the company. She just wondered how long Argus intended to be gone but did not want to ask.

  “It will be a month tomorrow, Olympia. He is not coming back.”

  Lorelei wondered if her heart had turned to stone it was so heavy in her chest, but the pain it gave her told her that was not possible. It might be preferable, she thought morosely. There had been no word from Argus either, not even a brief note hoping that her health had continued to improve.

  She had failed, she thought as she slumped down in the chair in the morning room. She had tried so hard to make him see that she would love him and never leave him and had failed to win his heart. Obviously, she should never take up gambling, she decided.

  “Perhaps you should go for a walk,” said Olympia, not even looking up from the intricate embroidery design she was working on. “The rain is gone and the sun is shining. Mayhap that will cheer you.”

  Lorelei doubted it, but she knew she was poor company at the moment so she left. It did not surprise her to find herself in her special spot in the orchard. Here was where she felt close to Argus, here where they had first made love. She had had such hopes then, such dreams. They were all crumbling to dust, she decided as she sat down and slumped against the tree trunk.

  “Lolly!”

  She peered through the leaves and caught Darius and Olwen headed her way. That was one thing that had kept her hopes alive. Argus would not leave his children behind, and they showed no inclination to return to Radmoor. The only ones who had left were Iago and Leopold, who had a great deal of work to do, and most of it very secret from what little she could discern. She quickly moved out of her hiding place and waved at the boys.

  “You truly like it here?” asked Darius as he frowned and looked around.

  Lorelei looked at the place through his eyes. It was a tangle, the trees overgrown and little care taken of the shrubs and grasses that grew up around them. She liked the wildness of the place, however. It was as nature had intended it, compared to the very neat orchard that led up this corner.

  “It is mine so, yes, I like it.” She smiled at the boys. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Your papa said that you used to collect all types of rocks,” said Olwen, “and we were wondering if they had been thrown away or if you knew where they had been stored.”

  “I believe they are in a large blue trunk in the east-wing attics. My name is on it in bright red paint. You are interested in rocks?”

  “Some, because I think each one is different, but Darius is not so sure. I thought the ones you collected would prove I am right.”

  “I suspect they will. I can come and help you find them, if you want.”

  “No, it would not be good for you to climb up into the attics and move trunks and such around.”

  “Oh, I am all healed from the knife wound and quite strong.”

  “Not that,” said Darius. “It could hurt the babe.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Lorelei had heard exactly what the boy had said, but she did not want to believe it. Her mind grasped frantically for some fact that would utterly disprove it and all she got was a reminder of how she had missed her woman’s time twice as of today. This could be a disaster.

  “A babe, you said?” she asked Darius.

  Olwen replied, “Aye, and actually it is two. Just like your papa had twins, so will you. But we will not say anything until you can tell our father.”

  She talked with them for a little while longer, although she could not recall what she had said. The whole conversation had become a blur of words ever since she had heard the one word—babe. But it will not be a babe, she thought as she climbed back into her hidden corner of the orchard. It will be two.

  At first she tried to deny it by pointing out it had been two beardless boys who had told her she was with child. Her mind refused to stop preying on the matter, however. It reminded her of her nausea in the morning just yesterday. She had thought it was a lingering remnant of her illness, but it fit into the little notch in her mind now labeled baby.

  “Oh, I am so doomed,” she moaned and flopped onto her back to stare up at the sun from between the leaves.

  Lorelei did not even want to think of what her father would do. He was the sweetest of men, but, as had been proven by all the trouble with Cornick, he could be pushed only so far and then you met the eighth Duke of Sundunmoor and not Roland or Papa. He would never stand for his daughter to bear a child outside of wedlock, not when he probably knew exactly who the father was.

  She wanted Argus to be hers more than she wanted her next breath, but she did not want him dragged into her arms. That was what would happen if Max and her father discovered she was carrying Argus’s child, or, rather, children. There had to be a way out of this. She had some time before the whole of Sundunmoor would begin to guess her condition, for it was hardly a rare one in the house. If she tried real hard, she told herself, she would find a solution that did not force the man she loved to marry her when he did not want to. That way laid utter disaster. In truth, it would probably prove his theory that marriages in his family were cursed.

  Argus straightened his clothes and rapped on the door of the duke’s library. He was as nervous as a young boy approaching his first girl. That was ridiculous, but, no matter how many times he told himself that, he remained nervous.

  “Well,” said the duke as Argus stepped inside in answer to his invite, “you clean up well. Where have you been for a month then? Come.” He waved toward the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, sit down.”

  “I have been in London for most of this time, Your Grace,” he said as the duke poured them both some wine. “There were a few things that needed clearing away concerning that Cornick business. Investigating to be sure everyone involved was rooted out. Only two others and they were very minor players. They will be taking a sojourn in Canada, sent off by their fathers to avoid scandal and, perhaps, knock some sense into them. Fathers both have land there.”

  “So, it was really just Cornick and Chuffington?”

  “And those two brutes from the docks. Seems they had worked for Chuffington before. The man will hang and not just for what happened here. More and more is coming to light to reveal that he had
a way of getting rid of those who annoyed him.”

  The duke shook his head. “And to think he had the resources of the government to aid him in his petty vendettas. I can see why you were away for so long, but your boys had a grand time here.”

  “I am sure. They have become quite good friends with Wolfgang and Axel, God help us all.” He smiled when the duke laughed. “But I was also doing a lot of work in getting my affairs together.”

  “Going somewhere?”

  “I hope not, Your Grace.” He set his papers on the duke’s desk. “I mean to marry your daughter, but I realize, that as only a knight, I am not of a rank with her. However, I do believe I can support her well.”

  Roland listened as the younger man talked of property he now owned, his finances and investments, and hinted at his work for the government. He did not tell him that he knew some of that already, for, as soon as he had seen what was developing between his daughter and Sir Argus Wherlocke, he had done his best to find out as much as he could. Having members of the man’s family as guests for so long had also helped. He firmly believed you could tell a lot about a man by studying his family.

  The older Wherlockes had had a lot of miserable marriages, but so far the younger ones had done much, much better. Roland suspected it was because they learned from the mistakes of the fathers. Deserted or abandoned children littered the landscape of the Wherlocke and Vaughn past, but the boys Argus had sired when he had been not much more than a boy himself were well taken care of and being given all the benefits of their class.

  He had also found very few criminals in the family tree and that, considering the gifts they all had, was nearly a miracle. Max had found nothing either, except that they had a very select group of servants, mostly from just two families, and they treated them very well. That was only in the younger man’s favor as well.

  What he was not hearing was how Sir Argus Wherlocke felt about Lorelei. The girl had been shuffling about the house pretending she was not unhappy and Roland was tired of it. He would not, however, force her to marry a man who did not care for her.

  Then something Argus said made him blink in surprise. “You bought the very house where you were kept prisoner?”

  “Yes. It was for sale at a very reasonable price. It is actually a very sturdy house, with, as my man puts it, very good bones. It is being repaired, cleaned, and painted as we speak. I thought that Lorelei would like to be close to her family. I also have several relatives within a day’s journey from there.”

  “Not worried about bad memories?”

  “No.” Argus smiled. “As I am hoping to be living there with a new wife, I suspect I can find ways to push them aside if they intrude. I just do not see them doing so. I associate the bad memories with the men who inflicted the injuries and they are all dead.”

  The duke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and clasping his hands together. “That is all very impressive, Sir Argus, but, to be blunt, so long as she will not starve, I am not much interested in the financial side of my daughter’s future husband. I want her happy. I want her to have children who are happy because their parents are. I want her husband to have true affection for her, for Lorelei needs that.”

  “I know, Your Grace.” Argus cleared his throat, unaccustomed to speaking of his feelings, especially in front of the father of the woman he wanted. “I love your daughter, Your Grace. I fought it, ignored it, and argued it away, but none of that did any good. I love her and I believe she loves me.”

  “If the amount of sulking she has done in the last few weeks is any indication, then I suspect she does. Now, you being a London man, and clearly no saint, I must ask—what about faithfulness? I know many men think they have some right to have a mistress or two as well as the wife, but that brings only misery or bitterness. I do not think I have seen many couples where both sides are content with it.”

  “When I take my vows, Your Grace, I will abide by them. If I thought I could not, then I would never take them. Personally, I have never understood men who make a vow to a woman before God, the vicar, and a few hundred guests and then, as soon as the heir is born, go about their business as if they were not married. It is not just the mistress, is it? It is an utter disrespect for the person who just gave you a child. It shows the woman, most clearly, that you married her for her breeding to pass on to your child, her money, or her property.”

  “That is what is behind many marriages.”

  “I know, but it also reveals that the man, or woman depending on who breaks those vows, had no intention of honoring his vows or even trying to have a decent marriage. It reveals a deceitful nature and, as I said, disrespect for the woman.”

  Roland sat back in his seat and looked at the man who would certainly become his son-in-law shortly. “I have always thought the same. Well, there is one last thing.”

  “And what is that?”

  “You have to convince Lorelei and she is not in the best of temper at the moment. A note or letter might have been welcome.”

  “I told her I had a lot of things that needed to be worked on.”

  “Day and night for a month?”

  Argus grimaced. “There was some traveling to do.”

  “To your new home barely a day’s ride from here?”

  “Damn. I did not wish to come back here until I had everything in order, until I could prove that I could give her a good life,” Argus said. “She is so high above me in rank that I had to have something to show you that would tell you that I can care for her and any children we have. I had to show her and you that I was not marrying her for anything else but her, as I had all I needed already.”

  “Argus, and may I call you that now that we are soon to be related by marriage?” When Argus nodded, Roland continued, “My daughter is very similar to her mother, a woman I sorely miss. She thinks too much. I know it is odd to hear this from me, but, while I think on whether there is any sense to the cuckoo laying its eggs in another’s nest, Lorelei is thinking, why has he not returned yet, why has he not at least written me? Then they snub you, or sulk alone and think the worst things about you. Last thing I heard was that you were at some orgy with a half-dozen females.” He grinned when Argus choked on his wine. “You can blame that on your sister, who seems quite fond of conversations about utterly irrelevant things. But, back to what my child is now thinking. London is full of beautiful women, she thinks. All those beautiful women, will naturally want you because you are not here. Are you beginning to understand?”

  “Very much so. I have left her uncertain of me and that cannot continue. As I said, I but wished to have everything in order when we had this talk. I believe I can get her to understand the importance of that, at least the importance of it for me.”

  “I certainly understand.” He smiled at Argus. “It will help your cause a great deal if you utter some pretty words. Lorelei is sharp of wit, but she is also very soft of heart. Do not think I mean that she will be ever demanding flatteries and assurances. But, right now, with you having been gone for a month with no word, she is not sure of herself as a woman and not sure of you.

  “Lorelei never showed an interest in any man until you. She was polite to, danced with, and even kissed a few, but there was no real interest. I saw the interest in you from the first moment she spoke your name. It sounds foolish, but there was a shine in her eyes when she spoke of you. I stepped back and let matters take their course. Do not think I did not notice what went on. I chose not to interfere. Max also chose not to interfere. So not only do you have to deal with a woman who might be irritated that you disappeared for a month, but also you have one who, I believe, finally thought of herself as a woman, and now she is questioning that. So”—he waved a hand at Argus—“go and fix it.”

  “Now I am duly intimidated,” said Argus as he stood up. “May I leave these papers here?”

  “Of course. Big wedding or small wedding? In other words, quick or slow?”

  “I am sure you will understand if I sa
y I prefer quick. I have been without her for a month. But I will bow to what she wishes.”

  The moment Argus was gone Roland rang for Max and smiled when the man entered only a moment later, revealing that he had probably been listening at the door. “So, he is back.” He patted the papers on his desk. “Brought everything to show he can support her well and has even bought a place not far from here—the very one he was held prisoner in. Now he just has to convince her.”

  “I think she ought to make him suffer some. He should have at least written a letter or two.”

  “Max, you are one of the few men I know who enjoys writing letters. But, yes, he should have to grovel a bit if only because he did not reassure her before he left. I think we may be having a wedding very soon.”

  “Oh? Why do you think that?”

  “Heard his sons talking as they headed for the attics in the east wing. One reason I was so pleased the fellow came back and acted like the gentleman he is.”

  “Your Grace?”

  “It seems my daughter who is not yet married is presenting young Darius and Olwen with twin siblings in less than eight months.” He laughed and poured Max a drink when the man sank down into the chair. “Do not worry, Max. Our Lolly will be fine. But, most important of all, she will be happy. The young fool loves her.”

  “I heard. It is past time he recognized it.”

  “At least he has, Max. And he will be making my child a very happy woman.” He held up his own drink, clinked his glass against Max’s in a silent toast, and drank to the future of his favorite daughter.

  Chapter 20

  “I will not cry anymore,” said Lorelei as she stared up at the sunny sky through the leaves of her favorite tree.

  It was a foolish promise because she suspected she would break it before the day ended. Night was the worst time for trying to hold to such a vow. She would lie in her bed painfully alone, aching for Sir Argus Wherlocke, needing his warmth at her side. Then the regrets and the questions would begin, pounding in her head and stealing her sleep. Regrets for the loss of something so wonderful, something she needed so badly, and questions about why she had failed to make him love her. The answers brought the bitter taste of failure, and then she would cry. She always cried. It was beginning to make her very angry.