Jilted by a Rogue

by Cheryl Holt

  A different scenario was that Mr. Cartwright was swindling her. Or were they involved in a scheme as partners? If so, what might it be and who might be harmed?

  She sensed disaster approaching like a black cloud, and she shuddered with dread, the possibilities so scary that she couldn’t bear to contemplate them. She spun away and started down the hill.

  * * * *

  “Why was Miss Boyle here?”

  Brinley posed the question as she plopped down on a chair next to Holden. They were on his patio, relishing the weather and the view.

  “You won’t believe it,” he said, “but I know her from London.”

  “You poor boy.”

  “You don’t like her?”

  “No. She’s too bossy, and as you’re aware, no one is permitted to boss me. How were you acquainted with her?”

  “We were betrothed.”

  “You? Betrothed?” She guffawed at his jest, then noticed he hadn’t joined in. “You bound yourself to her? Seriously? Why would you?”

  “She was fetching and lonely. We used to attend the public dances at Vauxhall. Friends introduced us.”

  “You have friends?” she facetiously asked.

  “Shocking but true; I have friends. They spurred us on, and our amour was innocent and lovely.”

  “Obviously, you didn’t marry her. What happened?”

  “Honestly, Brinley, can you picture me as a husband?”

  “No.”

  “And if I ever decide to break down and shackle myself, I’ll snag a rich bride to make it worth my while.”

  “I can’t guess what sort of income Miss Boyle has. She’s not indigent, but she’s definitely not rich.”

  “No.”

  “How did you get out of it?”

  “We had planned to elope, but on the morning we were to leave for Scotland, I simply didn’t show up.”

  Her jaw dropped in astonishment. An elopement was very scandalous and not a path any respectable young lady would pursue.

  “Miss Boyle was going to elope?” she said. “I’m stunned.”

  “Her mother had died, and she was at loose ends. She wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “Apparently not. Why was she just chatting with you though? Since she recognized you, is she about to sue you for breach of promise?”

  He smirked. “Gad, no. She saw me at my ball, and she was convinced I wasn’t Corpetto. She wanted to confirm her suspicions.”

  “You admitted you weren’t the Conte?”

  “Yes. There was no reason to continue the ruse, and I can’t deny that I enjoyed bragging about my many tricks. I’ve never had the opportunity to boast about my accomplishments to anyone but you.”

  She sighed with aggravation. “You shouldn’t have confessed. You should have insisted you were Corpetto—so she’d always wonder. Don’t you know anything about running a con?”

  He bristled. “Don’t lecture me.”

  “Someone should. She’ll tell people about you. She’ll feel compelled to ruin you. She’s annoyingly moralistic.”

  “Yes, that’s my opinion too. She claimed—even as we speak—that she’s on her way to see your brother.”

  “She mentioned it to me.”

  “Will she talk to him?”

  “She might, but it doesn’t matter. He wouldn’t intervene.”

  “What if he does?”

  “He won’t.” she confidently stated.

  “It’s dawned on me that it might be wise to depart Gibraltar. My identity has been exposed to Miss Boyle, so it’s risky to tarry.”

  “But you’ve just started in, and there are so many fools to manipulate.”

  “I’ve participated in many schemes over the years, and when I arrive in a new location, there’s always a chance I might bump into a person who knows me. It doesn’t happen often, but it happens. This was one of those unlucky times.”

  “It certainly was,” she groused. “What will you do next?”

  “I’m not sure. I like being Corpetto, and I’ve purchased the clothes and other trappings of his station. If I move on, I’ll consider being him in the future. I simply can’t keep on in Gibraltar.”

  Brinley studied him, trying to determine if she’d like to tag along or if it would be better to sever ties. Though she hated to acknowledge it, life was easier when there was a man around. He could gain access and persuade and finagle in a manner a female couldn’t.

  “I have a gift for you,” she said.

  She’d brought a tiny satchel. She handed it over, and he peeked in. On seeing the contents—three necklaces, two rings, and a pair of diamond earrings—he raised a brow and handed them back.

  “Where did you get them?”

  “I’ve been visiting friends I met at your ball. Everyone is gushing about it, and they can’t resist welcoming me into their parlors so we can discuss how splendid it was.”

  “You can’t pawn or sell them here,” he said. “It’s too small a place. You’d be caught.”

  “I know. I’ll part with them later.”

  “What about you?” he asked. “Will you leave soon? For I must admit—with Miss Boyle calling on me—I’m suddenly in a hurry. In case you’re wrong about your brother, I have no desire to tangle with him. Or with the British army.”

  “I could be in a hurry too. Are you suggesting I leave with you?”

  “I might be.”

  They stared at each other, the implications settling in. Neither of them liked to have a partner, and Brinley had never encountered anyone corrupt enough to suit her.

  Why not…?

  “Where would we go?” she inquired. “Have you thought about it?”

  “I haven’t decided what direction would be best. I merely think any direction would be a good idea.”

  Brinley dithered, wondering if they should be allies. If she involved herself, he’d expect a physical relationship to blossom, but she was totally ambivalent about the prospect. She’d lain with a few dolts, but they’d been stupid oafs who assumed they could bind her with baubles. Men were such idiots.

  She’d been debating her next move for ages, and a terrific picture was forming as to how she should proceed.

  Although she didn’t care overly much about Laura, she’d never been keen on abandoning her. The only reason she hadn’t so far was that she’d never dump her in a dangerous spot like London where she might have ended up lost on the streets. With their traveling to Gibraltar, her sister was safe now.

  Between Miss Boyle and James, they’d watch out for her, so Brinley had shed that burden.

  James hadn’t given her what she wanted—that being Denby Manor and her life as an earl’s sister—but there were other methods to garner what he should have supplied. Dare she chase after them? Dare she seize them for herself?

  Ultimately, she picked her path. She peered at Holden, her gaze very firm. “It would be all right with me if we were to stay together for a bit.”

  “It would be all right with me too.”

  “We’d have to have some rules.”

  “Of course.”

  “You wouldn’t be allowed to boss me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “I’m serious. You’re older than me, and you’re a male. You’ll always feel you’re smarter and cleverer than me, but you’re not.” She reached over and stuck out her hand. “Partners in crime?”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Let’s just say partners. Let’s ignore the portion about crime. I consider myself an expert at duplicity. I’m not so common that I would commit a crime.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  He clasped hold, and they shook on their arrangement.

  “Don’t ever betray me, Brinley,” he warned. “You wouldn’t like what would happen if you did.”

  “You shouldn’t ever betray me either. I’m not a woman who should be crossed.”

  She flashed a deadly look, liking how his eyes
widened on observing it. Despite what he’d promised about not bossing her, he’d presume he was in charge and in control, but he never would be. If he tried, she could lash out in ways he never imagined.

  “Have we agreed?” he asked. “We’re departing Gibraltar?”

  “Yes, immediately.”

  He faced the sea and toasted the view. “It was a grand adventure. I’ll miss the bloody place.”

  “I’ll find us a better place,” she said, “and I know the perfect spot.”

  * * * *

  When Victoria heard the cannons boom, she realized what it indicated. She was in the cottage, reading in the parlor, and waiting for Amelia to return from her walk. At the loud sound, Laura was alarmed and she jumped.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Victoria said. “It means a British naval ship is approaching.”

  Amelia took that moment to rush in. She was as startled as Laura. “What is it? Are we under attack?”

  “No,” Victoria replied. “The cannons are fired when a navy ship is about to arrive. People hurry down to the waterfront to watch it pull in.”

  Amelia’s jaw dropped. “Might it be Evan?”

  “It might be.”

  “My goodness, my goodness!” Amelia glanced around as if she’d forgotten how to act sensibly. “What shall we do? Shall we…we…go down to the harbor?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Victoria laughed, then Amelia laughed too. Laura stood in the corner, studying them but not displaying any emotion. Previously, she’d nod or gesture so a person could understand her, but since she’d run away and James had brought her back, it seemed as if she was frozen inside. Victoria talked to her constantly, but hadn’t been able to break through her hard shell.

  Amelia was spinning to and fro, appearing frantic and confused. “How do I look? Should I change my clothes? Should I fix my hair? What?”

  “You’re fine.”

  “He’ll be so surprised to see me! He doesn’t know I’m here. He doesn’t know I’m in Gibraltar. Oh…oh…this is so exciting!”

  Victoria laughed again. “Calm down. He’ll be delighted. I’m sure of it.”

  “What if he’s not? What if he’s upset that I traveled without his permission?” Amelia was so befuddled that she was nearly babbling. “What if he’s angry? I couldn’t bear it if he was angry!”

  “Don’t be silly. Didn’t you tell me he’s the best brother ever?”

  “He is, he is!”

  “Then he’ll be ecstatic.”

  Victoria couldn’t guess what his opinion would be about Victoria and Laura living with her though. He probably wouldn’t mind. Sailors were at sea for lengthy periods, and it was beneficial for Amelia to have company while he was away.

  Well, Victoria was praying that would be his view. If it wasn’t, if he ordered her to move out, she had no idea what she’d do.

  “Let’s walk down to the water and join in the festivities.” Victoria went to the door, grabbed her parasol, and marched out. Amelia eagerly followed, but Laura didn’t budge. Victoria peered over at her. “Laura, won’t you come too? You don’t want to miss the ship. It’s very fun. It’s like a party for the entire town.”

  “Laura, you can’t stay home,” Amelia said. “You have to meet Evan! You’ll like him so much.”

  Laura didn’t show any sign that she’d heard them, but when they continued on, Victoria peeked back, and she was trailing after them.

  Amelia chattered the whole way to the harbor. She peppered Victoria with questions about how the crew debarked, how long it took for them to be ferried over, whether Evan would be released from duty immediately. Then she asked more practical questions: What should she serve for supper? Was there time to bake a roast? How should they rearrange their sleeping quarters?

  Victoria had never seen her so agitated, but then, Amelia had been acting oddly ever since Conte Corpetto’s ball. She’d been out until dawn, and Victoria suspected she’d been with James all night.

  She would never chastise Amelia for being infatuated, but if she’d crossed a line with James, hopefully her brother’s arrival would yank her to her senses. Her brother’s presence would keep James away from her too. James wouldn’t dare climb in her bedroom window if Evan Boyle was in the house.

  When they reached the wharf, it was packed with people. Eventually, a mast appeared on the horizon, and they began to clap and celebrate. As the vessel came closer, they became even more animated.

  Once the Union Jack was visible, a spectator called, “It’s the Tempest! It’s the Tempest!”

  It was the name of Evan Boyle’s ship. The announcement sent a roar through the throng. Amelia clasped Victoria’s hands and twirled her in a circle, then she picked up Laura and twirled her too.

  It took forever for the sails to be lowered, for the anchor to be dropped, for the sailors to finish their chores and receive their parting commands. Finally—finally!—when the anticipation had risen to an extreme level, the men started clambering down the rope ladder and jumping into the long boats that were waiting to convey them to shore.

  One group and another landed, and they were greeted by wives or other relatives, and after hugs and kisses, they rushed off. The crowd grew smaller and smaller until there were no more boats, no more sailors. A few stragglers such as Amelia nervously tarried.

  They cast anxious glances at each other, wondering what had happened. Were their loved ones sick and quarantined on board? Were they keeping watch as the rest of the crew reveled in town? What? What?

  A last boat was rowed toward them, the captain in the front, his senior officers flanking him. From Amelia’s worried look, Evan wasn’t with them. The captain leapt out and strutted over to the dawdlers.

  His voice was very solemn. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have bad news.”

  They all braced, realizing a terrible incident must have occurred.

  “Where is my son?” an older woman was brave enough to inquire.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” the captain said, “but there was a skirmish during our recent patrol. We have wounded—and some casualties.” There was a sharp, collective intake of breath, and he frowned. “This is awkward. If you’ll accompany me to headquarters, I’ll provide you with more information.”

  He marched off, his senior officers marching too. Victoria was stunned. In the frivolity of the moment, she hadn’t expected tragedy, but why hadn’t she? Sailors died all the time. Amelia’s own father had died while serving in the navy.

  Stricken with dread, she turned to Amelia, struggling to devise just the right comment, when Amelia collapsed in a dead faint. Victoria managed to catch her just before she hit the ground.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “He’s not dead.”

  Amelia flashed a shaky smile at Victoria, and Victoria reached out and clasped hold of her hands.

  “Are you sure?” Victoria asked.

  “Very sure. He was badly injured though.”

  “Injured! Oh, no.”

  “They were chasing a plague ship that seemed to be abandoned and adrift. They boarded it, but it was actually pirates who had lured them in. There was a battle, and Evan was struck down.”

  “Where is he then? Is he still on the ship? Was he too maimed to come ashore?”

  “No. He’s on his way to England.”

  Amelia started to cry, then it altered into a laugh that sounded a tad hysterical.

  Several sailors had been killed, so she was trying to be grateful. Her brother was alive and that was all that mattered.

  After the skirmish, they’d anchored on an island off the African coast to regroup and bring on supplies. Another British vessel—one that was headed home—took those who were in the worst shape so they could be cared for where the medical facilities were better. Evan had agreed to go with them. He’d wanted to be with Amelia so she could nurse him.

  It was the oddest twist of Fate, like a morality lesson in a tangled fairytale. She�
�d missed her brother, so she’d traveled to Gibraltar to be with him. He’d been anxious to be with her too, so he’d continued on to London, but she wasn’t in London!

  She was so overwhelmed that she couldn’t think straight. She desperately yearned to talk to James, but she didn’t know how to tell Victoria.

  After meeting with the ship’s captain, Amelia had been too stunned to walk to the cottage. Her knees were weak, her balance unsteady, so a cart had been summoned, and a sailor had driven them home.

  Victoria escorted her into the house and put her to bed as if she were a sick toddler. As Laura watched nervously, Victoria closed the shutters, darkening the room, then she stripped Amelia to her chemise and drawers. Amelia sat on the edge of the bed like a puppet that couldn’t move its arms. Victoria did all the work.

  “What should I do?” Amelia asked as she finally collapsed onto the pillow. “I’m so confused. What would you advise?”

  “At the moment,” Victoria replied, “you’re not going to do anything. You’ve had a terrible shock, and you’re simply going to rest until your condition improves.”

  “When that idiotic captain initially spoke to us, I assumed Evan was dead.”

  “It was poorly managed by the stupid oaf.”

  Victoria went out to the parlor, and she returned with a tall glass of brandy. Amelia hadn’t realized they had any liquor.

  “Drink this,” Victoria ordered.

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. Drink it all. I intend that you will fall asleep, and this will help to knock you out.”

  “I have to make plans, and I have to figure out what my next steps should be, and I have to contact the navy again and…and…”

  “Hush. We’ll discuss it all when you wake up.”

  Amelia rose on an elbow. She sniffed the liquor, then swallowed it down. There was a water pitcher and basin on the dresser. Victoria wet a cool cloth and laid it over Amelia’s eyes.

  “Don’t you dare get up until I tell you you can,” Victoria said.

  “Will you be out in the parlor? Please don’t leave me alone.”