London Temptations: Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Joyce Alec

  The pain came in a moment, making him catch his breath. Instinctively, Phillip put one hand to his side, felt the warmth of his blood, and realized what had occurred.

  Someone had attacked him.

  They had not stopped to steal anything, had not tried to check his pockets for coins, but had only done the one thing and then hurried away. Phillip groaned, his mind already growing cloudy with the shock of what had occurred. Trying to keep his steps straight, he made his way back to White’s, one hand on his side as he struggled for breath. Quite how he made it into White’s up the stone steps, he did not know, but somehow, he was pushing the door and then collapsing onto the floor.

  Noise began to buzz around him, voices seeming to come from far away. Phillip could muster no strength, his eyes closing as he fought for breath. The pain was too great, overwhelming him completely as he struggled to form even a single word.

  “Wiltshire?”

  Lord Hoskins’ voice was louder than the rest, one hand settling on Phillip’s shoulder as he forced his eyes open. Lord Hoskins’ face was nothing but a blur and Phillip closed his eyes again, his body feeling weighted and heavy.

  “Good gracious,” he heard Lord Hoskins shout. “The man’s been stabbed.”

  Is that what has happened to me? Phillip thought to himself, now beginning to feel as though he were in some sort of wonderful dream where all he needed to do was drift away into sleep. The pain was no longer as great, his confusion fading to nothing. The darkness welcomed him, and he went willingly, the voices disappearing into a mist as he floated away.

  And then a stab of pain had him awake in a moment, a shout leaving his lips as he tried to rise.

  “Steady.”

  Lord Hoskins placed one hand on Phillip’s shoulder and forcibly pushed him back. The pain came again, and Phillip let out another cry, unable to stop his body from arching with the agony that was burning through him, a smell so unwholesome that it singed his nose.

  “That is done.”

  Phillip lifted his head as an older gentleman stepped back from his bed, realizing with shock that he was no longer in White’s.

  “I thank you, doctor,” Lord Hoskins replied as another gentleman drew near, mixing something in a small bowl. Phillip watched him with dull eyes as the man set the poultice onto Phillip’s skin and then began to wrap a large strip of cloth all the way around Phillip’s middle, carefully securing the poultice to his skin. Rather than feeling exhausted or overwhelmed with pain, Phillip felt himself grow angry, upset with the confusion that surrounded him now. He had no idea where he was, what had happened, or why he was now being secured in such a way.

  “Rest,” Lord Hoskins said gently, evidently seeing the look on Phillip’s face. “You are in my townhouse, old boy. There was a doctor in White’s at the very moment you collapsed, having come to assist a gentleman who had injured himself in a duel and had come to drink his sorrows—and, presumably, his pain—away.”

  The doctor came a little closer and shook his head gravely. “I attempted to stop the bleeding at White’s but it was not until we arrived at Lord Hoskins’ townhouse that I was able to cauterize it,” he said, making Phillip realize with a shudder what the severe pain had been in his side. “It will heal now without difficulty. There is a poultice that must be applied regularly and the bandage also removed and replaced. But with rest, I should expect you back to your usual strength within the month.”

  “The month?” Phillip replied, astonished by just how weak his voice sounded. His head dropped back down onto the pillow and he stared up at the ceiling, trying to understand what had happened to him. He had meant to be courting Miss Williams, to be asking her to marry him and then, thereafter, to be making wedding plans. Now, it seemed, he would have to remain at home rather than go to social occasions and would have to consider his recovery rather than his marriage. And all the while, he struggled to recall what exactly had happened to make him this way.

  “I will make certain of it,” he heard Lord Hoskins say as he, the doctor, and the assistant left the room. “I thank you for your help and your swiftness. Please, make certain that any bills are sent to me. I will pay them in full.”

  Phillip did not hear what the doctor replied and instead chose to wait until Lord Hoskins had returned, looking back at his friend and seeing his pale, drawn face. Gritting his teeth, he pushed down hard with his arms and forced himself to sit up and back, a hiss escaping from between clenched teeth as Lord Hoskins quickly arranged the pillows behind him. It took a few moments but, eventually, the worst of the pain began to fade.

  “What happened?” Phillip asked, just as Lord Hoskins said the same. The two men looked at each other for a long moment, and then Lord Hoskins shook his head, letting out a long breath.

  “Do you not recall?” he asked as Phillip tried his best to remember. “You came into White’s, collapsed on the floor with blood soaking your shirt.” His eyes held a haunted look, as though it was painful for him to remember what he had witnessed. “You do not know what happened?”

  Closing his eyes tightly, Phillip let out a long breath and pushed aside the pain that had begun to cling to him once more.

  “I was outside,” he remembered suddenly. “I—I do not know why.”

  “Then someone attacked you?” Lord Hoskins asked, getting up so that he might fetch the two brandy glasses that were already filled and waiting for them both, then handing one to Phillip. “Do you know why?”

  Squeezing his eyes closed, Phillip tried to recall what had occurred, but it was like reaching into a fog in the hope of finding something solid. Grimacing, he shook his head and opened his eyes. “I do not remember,” he said slowly. “I cannot recall anything that happened. I—”

  As he spoke, something came back to him. A whisper of memory, a quiet flicker of light in the darkness, but it was there, nonetheless.

  “I remember falling to the ground,” he began, but Lord Hoskins shook his head.

  “No, that was inside White’s,” he said, a little impatiently. “I have already told you what happened in there.”

  Phillip closed his eyes again, trying to let the memory come back to him a little stronger.

  It gave in to his cajoling.

  “No one was outside,” he said, keeping his eyes closed. “I thought the footman must have made a mistake. I made to go back inside and then…” Opening his eyes again, he looked straight at Lord Hoskins. “Then someone barreled into me. That is all I remember.”

  “The footman made a mistake?” Lord Hoskins repeated, his voice a little more urgent. “You mean to say that you were asked to go outside?”

  “I—I was,” Phillip replied slowly, still feeling as though he were stumbling forward in the dark. “Someone wished to speak to me.”

  “Who? Who was it?”

  Phillip hesitated, then shook his head. “I do not know,” he answered, and Lord Hoskins slumped back in his chair. “I have an impression that the footman did not give me his name either, although that might well be wrong.”

  Silence filled the room for a short time, with Lord Hoskins picking up his brandy and drinking it a little more quickly than Phillip had expected. Taking a small sip, Phillip let the brandy fire through him, giving him a jolt and bringing yet more fire to his already burning wound. Wincing, he shifted slightly on the bed and then looked back at Lord Hoskins.

  “Perhaps it was a mistake,” he suggested as Lord Hoskins rose to fill himself another brandy. “Perhaps the person responsible believed me to be someone else.”

  “I do not think so,” Lord Hoskins said darkly, his voice carrying back toward Phillip. “I believe it was done quite specifically, Wiltshire. Why else would they ask for you by name? Why else would they have you step outside? This was a deliberate attack and I believe that they meant to take your life.”

  “But for what reason?” Phillip asked, trying to hide the panic that grasped his heart at Lord Hoskins’ words. “I have done nothing wrong. I have not cheated anyone,
lied, stolen, or done anything worthy of punishment. Therefore, there is no real motive to have me treated in such a way.” He settled his head back against the pillows and sucked in a long breath, trying to steady himself somewhat. “I must believe it was a mistake.”

  Lord Hoskins shook his head. “You are wrong,” he said, his words forcible and determined. “It was not a mistake. It was a deliberate action against you. You are a fool if you believe it to be anything other than that, Wiltshire.”

  Letting out his breath slowly so as to keep his heart from slamming into a panicked rhythm, Phillip closed his eyes and tried to think coherently, but Lord Hoskins, it seemed, was not quite finished.

  “I shall have to go back to White’s and demand to speak to the footman that told you to go outside,” he said, sounding furious. “Whether or not the footman himself was involved in this wicked scheme, I cannot yet say, but either way, he should be able to give us something of importance in his description of the fellow asking to see you.”

  “I will go with you,” Phillip replied, only for Lord Hoskins to let out a bark of laughter.

  “You shall do nothing of the sort,” Lord Hoskins declared, giving a roll of his eyes as he sat back down. “You are to rest and recover. You cannot even think of removing yourself from that bed until your wound has begun to heal and you have regained your strength.”

  Phillip bristled. “I am already strong enough to rise,” he said, attempting to move his legs to the side of the bed. “I am sure that I…” He trailed off as pain sliced through his side, sending a spike of agony all through him. Throwing back his head, he groaned aloud and heard Lord Hoskins mutter something under his breath.

  “Lie back,” Lord Hoskins demanded, putting one hand on Phillip’s shoulder. “If you do not, you will spill your brandy.”

  “That is hardly a reason to do so,” Phillip retorted, clenching his teeth as he slowly leaned back and tried his best to let his body relax. “But I am quite determined, Hoskins. I cannot—”

  “You can and you will,” Lord Hoskins stated firmly. “And I shall speak to Miss Williams on your behalf, of course. She must know of what has occurred.”

  Everything in Phillip wanted to argue back, but his body was tired and refused to let him do as he wished. The more he admitted it to himself, the weaker he felt, until even bringing his brandy to his lips was a struggle.

  “We must find out why you were attacked,” he heard Lord Hoskins say, his eyes slipping closed. “Rest, Wiltshire. You are quite safe here. I will speak to Miss Williams just as soon as I can. She will understand your absence from society and, no doubt, will be very worried indeed about you.”

  “Do not frighten her,” Phillip muttered, seeing her sparkling green eyes looking up at him, a beautiful smile on her face. He could only pray that she herself would not be too distressed, hearing Lord Hoskins assure him that he would be very careful in what he said.

  A heavy sigh left his lips as sleep began to pull at him. His engagement to Miss Wiltshire would have to be delayed for a short time but he would not give up the idea. The moment he could rise, he would make his way to her side and beg her to be his wife. The anticipation of the joy that such a moment would bring brought a small smile to his face, helping him to relax a little more. Phillip’s body grew heavy as he slowly drifted into sleep, his pain fading and his whirling mind beginning to calm. The last person he thought of was Miss Wiltshire, her sweetness still a comfort to him despite his distance from her. How long would it be before he could see her again?

  9

  “Good morning, Aunt.”

  Lucinda smiled warmly at her aunt as she made her way into the room, sniffing appreciatively and seeing her aunt smile at her from where she sat.

  “It is a very fine day,” Lady Crampton replied as Lucinda quickly took a plate in order to choose her repast from the vast array that had been laid out. “Shall I pour you some tea?”

  “Yes, if you please,” Lucinda replied, sitting down opposite her aunt and reaching out to accept the teacup and saucer from her. “I think it will be a very lovely day indeed.”

  Lady Crampton laughed, her eyes twinkling. “And might that be because Lord Wiltshire is to take you to St James’ Park this afternoon?” she asked as Lucinda blushed furiously. “You may think that I am not aware of such a thing, my dear, but I am quite certain that you are very fond of that gentleman.”

  “I am very fond of him, Aunt,” Lucinda replied with a slightly self-conscious smile. “I think him most wonderful. I am, therefore, all the more grateful to you and to Lord Crampton for the assistance you have given me with my father. I do not think that I should have had such an opportunity. I would have found myself already engaged to Lord Astley, despite my lack of willingness.”

  Lady Crampton’s mouth set firm as though even the thought of Lord Astley was enough to darken her mood. “My brother has been much too hard on you for much too long,” she said, clearly a little angry now. “It is with myself that I must be frustrated also, however. I was too caught up with my own children and their futures to truly notice just how much difficulty you were in, Lucinda. For that, I am very sorry indeed.”

  Lucinda’s eyes widened and she leaned forward in her chair, wanting desperately to encourage her aunt. “There is nothing you need apologize for, Aunt,” she said fervently. “I have been saved from Lord Astley and shall, I hope, soon find myself engaged to a gentleman I care for a great deal. A gentleman I believe cares for me also.” She smiled and her aunt’s dark expression slowly began to lift. “Do not chide yourself, please. I am truly grateful for all you have done for me.”

  Lady Crampton let out a sigh and shook her head. “I shall still feel guilt, my dear, no matter how much you wish to alleviate it,” she said quietly. “But you are right. I am glad that you have found such a gentleman as Lord Wiltshire. I do hope that your father will not take too much convincing to allow the engagement to go ahead.”

  “If he does not allow it, then I shall elope,” Lucinda replied starkly, astonishing both herself and her aunt. They stared at each other across the table for a moment, only for Lucinda to shrug her shoulders, looking at her aunt quite calmly. “I shall not permit him to force me into marriage with Lord Astley. He may believe that I shall be coerced into such an arrangement, but I will prove him wrong.” Her determination grew with every word. “Now that I have come to know Lord Astley a little better, I cannot even imagine what it would be like to be his wife,” she continued, closing her eyes for a moment as a shudder ran through her frame. “He is monstrous in every way.”

  “He is,” her aunt agreed, grimacing. “I normally would not at all agree with elopement, for it can bring a good many difficulties and trials with it, but if there was no other choice…” She trailed off, then shrugged and smiled. “Then I might be forced into changing my opinion.”

  Lucinda smiled and the two ladies continued to break their fast without interruption for some minutes. They talked of other things—of the ball they were to attend that evening, whether Lord Hoskins would ever be likely to marry given just how much he appeared to enjoy his bachelorhood, and if Lucinda’s new gown would be ready this afternoon, as promised. They were then interrupted by a scratch at the door, which Lady Crampton answered almost at once.

  “Miss Williams, there is a note for you.”

  A little surprised that someone should be writing to her at this hour, Lucinda took it from the butler with a murmur of thanks. Looking at the seal, she felt her heart twist within her.

  “It is from Lord Astley,” she told her aunt as the door closed behind the butler. “Whatever can he want?”

  Lady Crampton lifted one eyebrow and gestured to the note. “Then might I suggest you open it at once, Lucinda? That is the only way you are to know.”

  A small smile quirked Lucinda’s lips and she quickly broke the seal, unfolding it and reading the few short words contained within. Aware of her aunt’s scrutiny and of the eagerness she had within her to know what w
as being said, she looked up at her.

  “I do not understand what he means,” she said slowly. “It states, ‘You will accept me now. Be fully aware that worse is to come if you do not.’” Frowning, she handed the note to her aunt. “What can he be speaking of?”

  Lady Crampton read the note but did not immediately dismiss it outright, as Lucinda had expected her to do.

  “I—I am not certain,” Lady Crampton remarked slowly, her lips pressing together tightly for a moment as Lucinda looked on. “This is more than an intention to intimidate, Lucinda. There is danger here.”

  Fear climbed up Lucinda’s spine, her breathing becoming a little quicker. “What do you mean, Aunt?”

  Lady Crampton looked up at her, the color gone from her cheeks. “I mean to state, Lucinda, that Lord Astley is now suggesting that he has done something more than just attempting to force you into accepting him, Lucinda,” she said gravely. “I cannot imagine what it might be, but—”

  Another scratch at the door had Lucinda jerking her head around in fright, startled by the sound.

  “It is the butler again,” Lady Crampton said gently, before calling the butler to enter. However, it was not the butler who stepped in first but rather Lord Hoskins, with the butler following quickly behind him. Lucinda rose at once, her eyes wide and fixed to Lord Hoskins, who looked as though he had not slept all night.

  “I am sorry for the early morning call,” Lord Hoskins said with a small, tight smile. “There is something that I must inform you of, Lady Crampton, Miss Williams. It could not wait.”

  Lady Crampton was the first to react.

  “Please,” she said quickly, moving from her chair and coming to stand by a vacant one only a short distance away. “Come and join us, Lord Hoskins.” Directing the butler to fetch a plate and fill it with food for Lord Hoskins, she urged the man to sit down and quickly poured him something to drink. Lord Hoskins accepted it with a grateful word of thanks, but as he looked into Lucinda’s eyes, she felt her stomach drop at the worry she saw there.