Jilted by a Rogue

by Cheryl Holt

  “So make your calls,” he said. “I’m not stopping you.”

  “I intend to wash and change my clothes. Will you linger and observe?”

  She hurled the query like a dare, like a threat, and he sauntered over to her. She stood her ground, and he liked that she did. She was feisty and spirited.

  “Maybe I will linger,” he taunted.

  “You’re being ridiculous, and you’ve exhausted my patience. Go!”

  She grabbed his arm to push him out, but she was a tiny little thing, the top of her head at the middle of his chest. She had no leverage to force him to obey. Her feet tangled in her skirt, and she tripped into him.

  He reached out to steady her, but suddenly, her entire front was pressed to his all the way down. They froze, the moment intimate and very strange. Time seemed to halt. The world ceased spinning on its axis. Their proximity was creating sparks, almost as if the air around them might ignite.

  He’d never previously felt such a peculiar sensation, and it was evident she felt it too. She glared up at him as if the unusual agitation was his fault.

  “Are you flirting with me, Miss Boyle?” He couldn’t resist posing the question.

  “Flirting? With you? Absolutely not!” At the notion, she was so aghast that he laughed, and she said, “Captain Hastings, when we met outside, I thought I liked you, but I was wrong. You’re rude and overbearing, and you have a temper, which I can’t abide.”

  “Women always like me. Why don’t you?”

  “I’ve told you why, and I don’t like repeating myself. I’ve asked you to leave, and I wish you would.”

  “I suppose I can oblige you, but I rarely listen to females, so I won’t make a habit of it.”

  “And please don’t involve me in your family’s morass. I’m sorry for your difficulties with your sister, but I can’t help you.”

  There was a writing desk in the corner, and he went over and jotted down some directions. He spent most of his time at the stables, but he had an office in the main building of the garrison that he used when he had to deal with paperwork.

  He handed the note to her, and she yanked it away from him.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s where I’ll be at five o’clock. Bring Brinley to speak with me.”

  “Captain, I could swear I just informed you that I can’t be involved in your dispute with her.”

  “I heard you, but I don’t choose to heed you. Be there at five. Have a porter escort you so you don’t get lost.”

  “I really can’t.”

  “You can, and you will. I insist.”

  “I’m not one of your lowly soldiers. I don’t have to obey you.”

  “You will though,” he pompously stated. People always obeyed him. Women especially. “I also insist that you not wander again. It is a small town, but it’s filled with natives, sailors, and reprobates. Don’t be caught out alone.”

  “You act as if you’re my father and have the right to boss me.”

  “It’s obvious you could benefit from some male guidance. I’m happy to provide it.”

  “You are insane, sir.”

  “I’ll see you at five o’clock with Brinley, and don’t be late. I find tardiness to be incredibly annoying.”

  She fumed and stewed, then capitulated. “I’ll be there at five. I’ll bring your sister.”

  “My half-sister.”

  “What if she refuses to attend you?”

  “She’ll try, but tell her she better not dare. If I have to chase her down, there will be consequences.”

  “I’m sure your message will have her shaking in her boots.”

  He studied her as if she were the most bizarre creature ever. Then he smirked. “You have the smartest mouth I’ve ever encountered on a woman.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  He wanted to continue their banter, but it dawned on him that he didn’t have the upper hand with her. She was pithy and intelligent, and she didn’t retreat from a fight. But he wasn’t in the mood to be bested by a female, and it was the likely outcome if he dawdled.

  He strolled out, and she slammed the door behind him. He halted and nearly stormed back in, but he quickly remembered that he never bickered. It was a waste of breath, yet apparently, Miss Boyle could goad him to odd behavior.

  He wouldn’t spar with her. He had to save his energy for the battle with Brinley. Even though he hadn’t laid eyes on her since she was a baby, he knew everything about her that he needed to know. His brother, Robert, had kept him fully apprised.

  She was the spitting image of her deranged mother, and any dolt who crossed swords with her had to be on guard and in fine form. He intended to be both.

  * * * *

  Amelia sighed with relief as she peered out the window to the street. She watched Captain Hastings exit the building and walk away.

  When she’d first espied him training his horse, he’d seemed fascinating. When he’d ushered her to the hotel, he’d seemed charming, but once he’d heard his sister had arrived, he’d turned into an ogre.

  She loathed men who strutted and barked. He was very imperious too, as if he owned the world and everyone was a vassal who should bow down. In many ways, he reminded her of her prior beau, Peyton Prescott. Peyton had been from an aristocratic family as well, and he’d acted just as pompously.

  There was a squeaking sound behind her, and she glanced around to see Laura climbing out of a traveling trunk.

  She was a waif of a girl, ten years old, slender and short for her age, with white-blond hair and big blue eyes. She didn’t resemble her sister in even the slightest fashion, and it was hard to fathom them being birthed by the same mother.

  Laura made Amelia think of fairies and elves, and because Laura never spoke, she tiptoed by so quietly she might have been a ghost.

  “There you are,” Amelia said. “I was wondering where you’d gone.”

  Laura pointed to the trunk, indicating the obvious: She’d been hiding from Captain Hastings.

  “Your brother was here.”

  Laura winced, as if she’d been afraid to talk to him.

  “He wasn’t scary,” Amelia told her. “He was just…loud. Have you ever met him before?” Laura shook her head, and Amelia tsked. “Then this wasn’t a very good beginning. He wants to chat with your sister at five.”

  Laura nodded, having eavesdropped on the whole conversation. She couldn’t have missed it. Not with Captain Hastings bellowing and blustering about.

  “Is he really your brother?” Laura scowled, and Amelia asked, “Just Brinley’s?”

  When Laura nodded again, Amelia sighed again. “You and Brinley must have had the same mother, but different fathers?”

  From Laura’s shrugs and gestures, it appeared Brinley was Captain Hastings’s half-sister, and Laura was no sibling at all. Evidently, he had no connection to her, so where did it leave her? If he wasn’t interested in Brinley’s plight, he certainly wouldn’t be interested in Laura’s.

  “Brinley will visit his office at five,” Amelia said, “and you should go with her. You have to be introduced to him sooner or later. You should get it out of the way.”

  Laura scoffed, sharing her negative opinion of the idea, then she came to the window and stood next to Amelia. They stared out together at Captain Hastings down on the wharf. His red coat was visible for a bit, then he was swallowed up by the people, horses, and wagons.

  Footsteps echoed in the hall, and Miss Hastings sauntered in. She was loaded down with parcels, as if she’d been shopping. Amelia couldn’t guess what sort of funds Miss Hastings had, or from where they originated, but she had plenty of money.

  Amelia had received a small trust fund from her grandmother and another from her mother. Plus, there was a survivor’s benefit from when her naval father had died at sea, so she wasn’t a pauper. She didn’t have to worry about her finances, but she wasn’t frivolous, and she was curious as to what s
ources Miss Hastings drew on.

  “You just missed your brother,” Amelia said.

  A flash of unease crept into Miss Hastings’s expression, but she swiftly masked it and grinned instead. “James was here? How did he know I’d arrived?”

  “I bumped into him earlier. I didn’t mean to spoil your surprise, but I didn’t realize who he was until after I’d revealed the name of my traveling companion.”

  “He’s quite a fellow, isn’t he?”

  “He wasn’t too happy to discover you’re in Gibraltar.”

  Miss Hastings waved away any concern. “He’s exactly like our father who was a growling bear. He likes to throw his weight around. Most men do. Haven’t you noticed?”

  She marched on by and hurried to the dressing room with her packages. Amelia and Laura followed her, with Laura warily watching the moment unfold—as if she’d seen it all before.

  “He told me he didn’t want you to come to Gibraltar,” Amelia said. “He told me he’d specifically ordered you not to.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Miss Hastings replied. “He was simply being a pest.”

  “You’re to meet with him at five.”

  “Is he returning to the hotel?”

  “No, you’re to go to his office.” She handed Miss Hastings the note with the directions on it.

  “Maybe I will and maybe I won’t. I hate how bossy he can be, and I’m not in the mood to quarrel.”

  “Yes, he seemed bossy.”

  “I suppose I ought to confer with him at once though. He is my brother after all, and I should heed his wishes.”

  “He insists he’s not Lord Denby.”

  That was the strangest part of their story. Why would one sibling claim he was an aristocrat but the other flatly deny it? But then, as she was learning, Miss Hastings was a clever little liar. Perhaps she’d been hoping to impress Amelia with mention of a noble relative.

  Whatever her motive, it didn’t matter. Amelia had her own issues to resolve with the naval authorities, then she’d begin searching for a cottage to rent so she could move in and make it comfortable for Evan.

  Her time with Miss Hastings was quickly—and thankfully—winding to a close.

  “Of course he insisted he’s not Denby,” Miss Hastings said. “He’s keeping it all hush-hush, although I don’t understand why. He acts as if he’s embarrassed by the elevation.”

  “Is he?”

  “Who can guess? Aren’t all men insane?”

  She started unpacking her parcels, and Amelia decided to slip out and escape Miss Hastings’s nonsense. She’d stop at the hotel desk and ask where the naval office was located, then she’d head toward it so she was in the area at five.

  “I think I’ll take another walk,” she said.

  “Wouldn’t you like to see my purchases?” Miss Hastings inquired. “There are some lovely shops, with all sorts of things from home.”

  “Yes, I’m sure there would be. There are a lot of British citizens here.”

  “Besides, James is expecting us at five. You can’t traipse off now.”

  “He was very abrupt with me, so I rather not speak to him again.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Boyle. You have to come, and we’ll bring Laura. You’ll mind her for me.”

  Laura peeked up at Amelia, and her attitude was clear—she didn’t want to meet Captain Hastings again either—but her sister was like a force of nature, and it was easier to agree than to argue.

  “I’ll come,” Amelia said, “and I’ll watch Laura while you talk to him, but I will not join you in the room.”

  “Why would you need to be in the room? He’s my brother. Not yours.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  And you’re welcome to him! Amelia added to herself.

  She stomped out and sat in the chair by the window. Laura hovered behind her, her displeasure obvious, but she didn’t voice it.

  Amelia was irked too at being nagged into going, and she could have complained and refused, but she wouldn’t. She would trek to the army garrison with Miss Hastings and Laura, and she would view it as another adventure where she would explore more of the town.

  She wouldn’t let Captain Hastings or his sister ruin a minute of it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Amelia dawdled on a bench in the hall outside Captain Hastings’s office. Laura stood next to her, vigilant and watchful. They had arrived promptly as the Captain had demanded, and Miss Hastings had been escorted in, the door slammed behind her.

  Miss Hastings had been sequestered with her brother for thirty minutes. Occasionally, his shouts wafted out: How dare you show up here! and I told you no! and I won’t tolerate your brand of mischief!

  He’d been ranting every second, and if Miss Hastings had been able to wedge in a response to his diatribe, Amelia hadn’t heard it.

  Suddenly, the door was flung open, and Miss Hastings emerged. She was smiling, seeming completely at ease and displaying no sign that she’d just been thoroughly berated by a very angry male.

  She peered over at her sister and said, “Let’s go, Laura.”

  Amelia stood and asked, “Where to?”

  “Laura and I are headed to the hotel, but my brother would like to speak to you before you leave. We’ll confer once you return.” Miss Hastings sauntered out, calling as she went, “Laura! Don’t make me tell you twice.”

  Laura gazed woefully at Amelia, not eager to follow Brinley, and Amelia said, “Don’t worry. I’ll join you shortly.”

  Laura trudged out, and Amelia listened as her footsteps faded down the stairs.

  As the silence settled in, she was bristling over the entire situation. She’d been absolutely sincere when she’d apprised the Hastings siblings she had no desire to be dragged into their quarrel, but they were like magnets, luring her in against her will, and she couldn’t resist their steady pull.

  “Miss Boyle!” the Captain snapped. “Are you coming in or not?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m coming,” she grumbled in reply.

  Disgusted with herself, she stomped in. He was brooding behind a desk, looking very much like the army captain he was: red coat, white trousers, meticulously-shined black boots. His hair was neat and tidy, tied with a ribbon, and he’d shaved, his skin smooth and tanned from the sun.

  There was little about him that resembled the mostly-naked equestrian she’d initially viewed out in the corral. He appeared professional and competent—and very, very grouchy.

  He gestured to the chair across. “Have a seat.”

  “I don’t intend to tarry, so I’d rather stand. What is it you need?”

  He didn’t answer her question, but scoffed at her refusal to heed him. “Sit, Miss Boyle. I insist.”

  “Fine, I’ll sit. What do you want?”

  She plopped down, then he moved slowly into his own chair, as if he might be in pain, and she remembered the scar she’d observed on his arm and back. It had her speculating as to whether he had other injuries she couldn’t see.

  Miss Hastings had claimed he was a Waterloo hero, and while Amelia had learned to swallow the girl’s remarks with a grain of salt, she wondered if that tidbit might be true. So many boys had been gravely wounded there. If he’d been maimed while fighting for the Crown, she shouldn’t be so churlish with him.

  “Thank you for obliging me,” he said.

  “Did I have a choice?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. Now what is it you have to tell me? I believe I was very clear that I can’t be involved with you and Miss Hastings.”

  “Yes, but I’m ignoring you, and here is what I’ve decided.”

  “You’ve…decided? Are you implementing a plan that includes me?”

  “Yes.”

  “As I only just met you a few hours ago, and you have no connection to me, I must admit it’s quite brash of you.”

  “I don’t deny it, but I need your help.”

>   “My help? With what?”

  “Brinley will be sailing for London on the first ship that can take her.”

  “How did you persuade her to agree?”

  “She didn’t, but she doesn’t get to have an opinion about it.”

  Obviously, he didn’t know his sister very well. She had an opinion about everything, and she never behaved as was expected. They were on a collision course, and after the crash occurred, Amelia hoped she wouldn’t be crushed in the rubble.

  “When will she be departing?” Amelia asked.

  “It might be immediately or it might be weeks. If I’m terribly unlucky, it will be months. It depends on my finding a captain who will consent to have her as a passenger.”

  “I don’t mean to be impertinent, and I would hate to argue with your grand self, but from what I’ve discovered about Miss Hastings, she won’t go quietly.”

  “You’re probably correct, but if I have to shackle her and carry her onto a ship myself, she’s leaving. I guarantee it.”

  “Did she suffer some trouble in London? Is that why she left?”

  “I have no idea, and I really don’t care why, but this is an army post and a naval station, Miss Boyle. Can you imagine the damage Brinley could stir in the company of so many gullible young men?”

  “I see your point, but what has that to do with me?”

  “You’ll watch over her until I can have her safely away.”

  “I couldn’t possibly.”

  “Yes, you can, and I’ll garner your assistance with a fat bribe.”

  “What boon could you utilize to induce me to comply?”

  “I made some inquiries on your behalf.”

  “How…kind of you, Captain.” She couldn’t conceal her sarcasm.

  “Your brother won’t be back for at least six weeks, and Gibraltar is a very old-fashioned place. British women aren’t permitted to live by themselves or handle their own money or anything else.”

  “I won’t be by myself. I’ll be preparing for Evan’s return.”

  “Even so, no landlord will rent to you. No banker will allow you to deposit or withdraw funds. No shopkeeper will allow you to open accounts—without a male telling them they should.”