The Lady and Her Treasured Earl

by Lynda Hurst

  Faith nodded, visibly relieved her brother was being agreeable. With a wink to Margaret, Frederick disregarded the rest of the company present, and turned on his heel to leave.

  Margaret, whose recent experiences with the man only exasperated her further each time they met, commented, “I never met someone who infuriated me as much as—”

  She stopped, realizing she was about to say Jackson’s name, and lamely substituted with, “As much as Devlin has over the years.”

  If Jackson was fuming earlier at having to witness Frederick badgering Margaret in the middle of a waltz, he was completely livid now after watching the intolerable man stomp away so smugly. But a gently placed hand on his arm quelled his anger just a bit, bringing him back to where he was presently: standing among some of the ton’s finest ladies and gentlemen in the Haversham ballroom.

  Looking down at the small gloved hand on his arm, his eyes trailing up that hand to its owner’s arm, and finally resting on Lady Celia’s concerned face. “Are you all right, Jackson?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

  In a calm he was far from feeling, he replied, “Yes, Celia. I apologize for abruptly leaving in the middle of our conversation. Frederick Revelstoke’s appearance here tonight, I’m afraid, has caught all of us off guard.”

  Still frowning, Lady Celia stated, “I see, but I just don’t see why you had to be the one to intercept the man.”

  Not having an answer ready for her, Jackson could do no more than shrug helplessly. Margaret reading the situation clearly, joined in, “As I was saying earlier, I was capable of handling Frederick on my own, but at the same time I was grateful for Jackson’s assistance. It wouldn’t have been the thing for me to leave the dance floor unattended.”

  In agreement with having the social proprieties properly met, Lady Celia nodded. “I’ve never met the man, but I have heard the rumors surrounding his exile and return.”

  Devlin cut in, “I cannot vouch for the rumors said about his exile, but as for the ones surrounding his unexpected arrival on English shores, those have obviously been proven true tonight.”

  Margaret commented, “Among all of us here, why is it that I am the only one he’s had the most encounters with since his return? One would think he would have at least seen Faith first.”

  Margaret could not fail to miss the significant look passed between her brother and Jackson. When neither said anything in reply, she insisted, “You two obviously know something the rest of us don’t. I would doubtless love to hear what it is you haven’t shared with us.”

  Faith answered for her husband, “Forgive me, Margaret, but I have also been somewhat privy to what has been happening as of late. And it has everything to do with the Revelstoke estate.”

  Devlin added, “I think it best we retire from the ball and have this conversation anywhere but here.”

  Jackson acceded, “Yes, your townhouse or mine?”

  “Let us convene at our townhouse in deference to your poor father’s health. I’m sure he would be more than curious as to why the lot of us would be crowding your sitting room at such a late hour,” Margaret said to Jackson.

  Lady Celia, looking a little put out that her evening with her intended was to be cut short, addressed Jackson, a little petulantly, “Jackson, this is an unexpected turn of events when I had hoped we would at least share in one waltz.”

  Jackson did not feel the slightest sorry for not assuring his intended had a good time at the very ball which she had been looking forward to all week. The matter with Frederick Revelstoke had put him at odds, especially now that it was evident Margaret would most likely bear the brunt of the former exile’s subtly-veiled threats.

  All Jackson could do was lamely apologize. “I’m sorry, Celia. This is a matter that directly involves my business venture with Devlin just as much as it is a family matter. I do hope you can understand that and forgive me just the same.” He raised her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it in apology.

  Swept up by the romantic gesture, Lady Celia conceded, “I forgive you as long as you will follow through on your promise to take me riding. Now, if you wouldn’t mind escorting me back to my mother, I will take my leave.”

  Proffering his arm, Jackson whisked Lady Celia off in the direction of the refreshment table where Lady Harcourt sat with her cronies. Margaret watched them go, and only just remembered Jeffrey who sidled alongside her after Jackson and Lady Celia had left their group.

  Jeffrey hadn’t been able to edge in a word during all of the excitement, but Margaret had been grateful for his reassuring presence at her side and found it necessary to apologize to him. “Jeffrey, I am so sorry that boorish man ruined our evening. If it hadn’t been for him, we wouldn’t be retiring so early.”

  “It’s all right,” Jeffrey replied. “It wasn’t your fault. I believe we will have many more chances to share a waltz this season. And don’t forget we still have your sister-in-law’s country house party.” Being reminded that she had given herself a deadline to answer Jeffrey’s marriage proposal had her tensing.

  She relaxed when Jeffrey assured her, “I’m a patient man, and I believe I can wait as long as necessary to ensure that you also are happy with your choice.” He kissed her hand then and excused himself for the evening to join a few comrades about to start a game of cards.

  Stepping closer to her brother and Faith, Margaret wished she could draw strength and courage from their nearness. Being faced with an all-important decision as marriage weighed heavier on her than it ever had in the past especially since it wouldn’t do to keep the poor man waiting for her answer.

  Seeming to understand what was running through Margaret’s mind, Faith threaded her arm through hers and reassured her, “He is a good man with all of the good qualities required in a husband. My advice? You cannot rush a good thing.”

  As much as she wanted to be cheered by her sister-in-law’s words, Margaret felt awful for feeling she was cheating the poor man as well as herself by delaying their engagement. However, there was no time to wallow in self-pity as Devlin had quickly rounded their carriage to bring them straight home for the inevitable meeting that would hopefully explain Frederick’s unwarranted visits.

  Jackson watched as the de Chamblays made ready to leave the ball with his twin sister just as he deposited Lady Celia safely with her mother.

  Words could not properly express what it was that came over him when he had spied Margaret dancing in the arms of Frederick Revelstoke. Incensed, his own limbs had spurred him into action, crossing that dance floor to reach her side, to do what? Snatch her from the other man’s arms?

  In the back of his mind, he had known it was rude of him to leave Lady Celia’s side as he did. Yet, his protective instincts had prompted him to action, and like his earlier years defending Faith against her belligerent father and older brothers, it was an involuntary reflex to shield Margaret from another Revelstoke male.

  In remembrance, he smiled at Margaret’s bold kick at the other man’s shin just before he reached them. He hoped her toes weren’t badly smashed from her effort, but she looked every bit as proud as a queen after the fact, so he didn’t think she damaged herself too severely.

  He found he was just as proud of her for taking the situation into her own hands before he arrived, his heart swelling at the thought that she was everything admirable and worthy of any man’s attention. And he was finding more and more that his awareness of her as of late overshadowed all thoughts of even his intended, Lady Celia.

  With a frown, he realized that Lady Celia’s poised and demure manner no longer held any attraction to him, not when compared to Margaret’s fire and passion. Fortunately, he had not made any promises to Lady Celia or her father, knowing that neither he or Lady Celia had feelings thrown into the mix. If he were to tell Lady Celia’s parents that he was to cry off, they would simply shrug and move onto the next eligible candidate.

  Sighing, he realized it was too late for Faith to rescind her invitation to Lady Celia and
her parents for the Prestonridge house party without seeming overtly rude. He would just have to play the suitor a little while longer until he could sort matters with the woman he was just beginning to realize he truly wanted.

  He didn’t know when his feelings concerning Margaret had changed, but he could no longer deny that he wanted her for himself. Collingwood and Revelstoke presented no challenge to him, knowing that neither of them could possibly have the depth of feeling that he himself held for her. From Faith’s own admission in confidence, he knew that Collingwood was more interested in marrying Margaret for the connections and wealth it would bring the both of them and that there were no feelings stronger than fondness involved.

  Regardless of how or why he felt as he did, he only knew that the thought of having Margaret together with him far into the future felt so very right. But with Collingwood still in the picture, he had to find out first if Margaret could be easily convinced to choose him instead.

  16

  Haversham Ball—The Terrace Balcony

  Anger burned through him, bright and hot, as he watched the de Chamblay girl dance with one man, only to be snatched up by another. While he recognized the first to be the heir to the Collingwood duchy, he did not recognize the second.

  He knew there had been talk of Collingwood’s attachment to Lady Margaret, but he assumed she had no designs on a union in the future. As for the second man, he could only come to the most logical explanation: Lady Margaret was not the pure, constant woman he had thought her to be.

  Once again, he had proof before him that there was not one woman in the world whose soul was free from blemish. Tainted, all of them were, incapable of constancy or fidelity. As he thought about it more, the more he cherished the idea of Margaret being their target for the next full moon meeting. He savored the thought of Margaret’s frightened face once she realized her role in their “game”.

  Blinded by his rage, he stormed off of the balcony for a closer look, narrowly toppling poor Lord Chamberlyn over the edge of the terrace railing. Spotting Margaret once more, she was now surrounded by a crowd of people of whom he recognized Prestonridge and his wife; Collingwood; and Ellesmere.

  Three powerful men by their society’s standards, he delighted in the thought of duping them, hiding his activities from their watchful eyes. No one thus far had thought to seek him out, and he grew impatient to experience the thrill of the hunt once more, to go undiscovered under the cover of his greatest deception.

  Most of all, he grew eager to have the one woman he thought would cure him of his years of loneliness finally under the sight of his hawk-like vision behind the fletching of his arrow. He would savor her punishment most of all since the other targets had never existed as people to him; whereas, she was a real person to him up until she betrayed him.

  But he would not be the success he was if he rushed headlong to satiate this unholy desire. No, he had achieved his anonymity through careful planning and keeping a cool head. Avoiding the hangman’s noose was imperative since the baronet’s daughter had been discovered.

  But what better target than one of note? One that would be harder to obtain yet be the greatest trophy he could lay claim to? A duke’s daughter would be his greatest achievement!

  With darkest thoughts flooding his mind, his entire being, he stalked out of the ballroom, no longer eager to claim his dance promised him by a deceitful, false woman.

  17

  Prestonridge Townhouse

  Upon their arrival with the Ellesmere carriage arriving simultaneously with theirs, Hugo and Faust were on hand to light lamps in the sitting room and have everyone comfortably situated before taking their leave. Faith and Mary seated themselves at the settee while Margaret chose the straight-backed, winged chair closer to the two men so as not to miss a single word or detail. Still attired in their evening clothes, Devlin and Jackson remained standing, looking both dashing and authoritative before they began. Devlin spoke first.

  “It’s no secret that Jackson and I have been working together on a venture in the past few months. Faith has known since the beginning as it has everything to do with developing the very land which would have been a legacy for her and Ethan.” As Ethan Revelstoke, Faith’s youngest brother, was abroad, studying antiquities in Egypt, he had left his blessing for his brother-in-law to do with the Revelstoke land as he wished.

  Jackson added, “Devlin and I had hoped to turn the land into something lending towards scholastics. Not just for the children in the area, but we hoped to have some of the ton’s children come to our doors.”

  Faith joined in. “I heartily agreed that the land of my youth would be better served to help educate others. But not just in book learning, but in things pertaining to the arts and certain trades. For example, the latest ideas in agriculture can be taught and shared with those who will be taking on their family’s farms on our lands. And for those handy with numbers, we can teach them simple financial management so they can learn to be stewards for others.”

  Impressed, Margaret replied, “Starting a school is a wonderful idea. If you would allow me, I would love to help in any way I can.”

  “Yes, and we would welcome the help, but with all of our carefully laid plans for the land and house, we foolishly thought the way was clear for us to begin with the endeavor,” Devlin said, soberly.

  “Instead, we found that our bid to develop the land for our school was contested majorly by a singular individual.”

  Margaret guessed, “Frederick Revelstoke? I thought the Revelstoke lands were legally under Devlin’s possession and that Frederick no longer had a claim to them.”

  “The first part is still true, but the second has been a challenge to our plans as of late,” Jackson said.

  Faith gasped. “Are you saying that my brother wants the Revelstoke lands back?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  Devlin affirmed, “Yes, and his intentions were revealed to us only last week through his lawyer. However, there had been no mention about buying the lands back. After Margaret had informed us earlier this morning of their chance meeting, I had to assume the worst as I believe that he thinks he can use my sister to gain what he ultimately wants.”

  Margaret paled and whispered, “He claims he only wants revenge against you, Devlin, but I think he believes I can be used like a pawn to obtain it.”

  Jackson stared at her a moment before saying, “What makes you say that?”

  Reluctantly, she answered, “At our first meeting, he made it very clear it was revenge he sought against my brother. But when I mentioned that Faith and Devlin were married and now have Grayson, he was quite taken aback and seemed to change course. As I recall, he called me a ‘plum target, ripe for his revenge’.”

  Both Devlin and Jackson took umbrage to that statement and in chorus roared in outrage. Faith and Mary gasped in shock.

  From Devlin, “He dares to threaten you?”

  Jackson spat, “I will tear him apart for threatening a lady.”

  Margaret rolled her eyes at the two men. “You overreact, the both of you. Thus far, he hasn’t done more than make idle chatter at my head, annoying as his words and actions have been. Nothing untoward has truly happened.”

  “Until tonight,” Jackson glowered. “If we hadn’t noticed the two of you on the dance floor, who knows what he was capable of doing to you.”

  Margaret laughed. “On a crowded dance floor? Did you not notice my swift but magnificent kick aimed at his shin? Anything else he was about to say was immediately blocked with that one swing of my leg.”

  Mary laughingly asked, “Is that what happened? I couldn’t see much of anything, but that definitely explains why the two of you broke out of step during that waltz.” Turning a beaming face towards Mary, Margaret nodded proudly. Faith was also smiling widely at her sister-in-law.

  Jackson snorted at their exchange, but he was secretly proud that Margaret was completely capable of handling the situation before he could do bodily harm to the other man.


  Devlin declared, his arms sternly crossed before him, “As pleased as I am that you were able to fend him off, I am as equally curious to know what he was saying to you beforehand and everything else before that. Give as many details as possible, no matter how small.”

  Margaret felt all eyes on her, waiting to hear her answer. She began, “Earlier at the archery range, he left after spouting some nonsense about saving him a waltz at the Haversham ball. I never really thought he was serious since I believed it wasn’t possible for him to arrive at the ball without an invitation. With my dance card full, he cut it on my dance with Jeffrey, and picked up where he left off with our earlier conversation.”

  Jackson, all ears, prodded, “Which involved what exactly?”

  Margaret blushingly admitted, “I will say this: his idea of flirtation is completely overdone, and I am not easily swayed by such subtle comments. Then, in the next breath, he speaks of ruining Devlin through me while Devlin is watching. He claims revenge is his motivation for everything he’s been doing thus far.”