London Temptations: Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Joyce Alec

  “‘Lord Wiltshire,’” he read aloud, his voice low and his stomach tight with a tension he could not understand or explain. “‘I am deeply troubled to hear of what has occurred. I do hope that you continue to recover and that the person responsible for your attack is found and punished, however unlikely that might seem at present.’”

  “Most unlikely,” Lord Hoskins muttered, but Phillip did not even acknowledge him.

  “‘I do not want to add to your injury or to your pain, but I believe that now must be the time to bring our acquaintance, such as it is, to an end.’”

  His stomach twisted hard and his breathing quickened as he stared down at the paper, barely able to accept what was written there. Miss Williams wished to end their acquaintance? Why ever should she do so? His heart began to tear into a thousand pieces as he finished the letter aloud, his voice shaking slightly as he read.

  “‘I have enjoyed our conversations but, after some consideration, I believe it is for your best that such an intimacy ends. I will miss your friendship and your good humor, Lord Wiltshire. With regret and my deepest sympathy, Miss Lucinda Williams.’”

  The room rang with silence as he stared at the paper in his hand, his mind holding no thought, his body burning with a fresh pain that he could not chase away. Miss Williams was no longer to be a part of his life, it seemed. She was to remove herself from him entirely, to separate herself from their joyous acquaintance—and for what reason? She had not given any, it seemed, his eyes roving over the words again and again in the hope of finding some sort of explanation.

  “Goodness,” Lord Hoskins murmured as Phillip closed his eyes and dragged in air, feeling himself begin to tremble. “It is little wonder, then, that she was as distraught as she appeared.”

  “Why, Hoskins?” Phillip grated, surprised at the anger that now flooded him. “At the very moment that I need her the most, she writes that we must bring our close intimacy to an end?” Looking at his friend, Phillip felt a ball of anger begin to form in his chest, his fingers tight on the blankets around him. “I was to propose to her, Hoskins. I was to—”

  “Do not react with anger, Wiltshire.”

  Lord Hoskins’ voice was quiet against Phillip’s fury, his expression calm in the face of Phillip’s upset. It took all of Phillip’s strength not to rail back at his friend, to state that he had no right to tell Phillip what to do or what to feel at this present moment. With a great effort, he quietened his lips, biting his cheek hard to keep from speaking.

  “As I have said, Wiltshire, Miss Williams was deeply distraught when she gave me the letter for you,” Lord Hoskins said quietly. “She begged me to express her deepest sorrow to you. Her aunt clearly did not wish her to do so, coming near to her only to be almost rebuked by the lady herself.” He tilted his head and looked at Phillip carefully. “Can you not see? There is more to this letter than there appears.”

  “I cannot see it,” Phillip replied harshly, his anger burning straight through him. “All I know is that the lady I intended to marry has deserted me. When I needed her comforting words, when I needed the hope of once more being in her company, it has been pulled far from me, never again to be restored.”

  Much to his surprise, Lord Hoskins did not immediately agree or sympathize. Instead, he let out a snort of evident disdain for Phillip’s words and rose from his chair, walking across the room to pour himself a brandy—although he did not fetch one for Phillip. Gesturing to the food that was sitting out waiting for Phillip to notice it, Lord Hoskins walked to the window and pulled back the curtains.

  “We will talk once you have eaten something,” he said, as though he had every right to command Phillip. “It will give you time to consider what I have said of Miss Williams, as well as the words contained within her letter. I know they are most devastating, Wiltshire, but you did not see her countenance as she gave the letter to me, did not notice the tremble that was in her frame as she stepped away. Lady Crampton was most distressed and…” He stopped himself, grinned and shrugged, before coming to sit back down again. “Eat and then we will discuss matters.”

  “I am not hungry,” Phillip muttered, looking down at the letter again and noting the stain of what appeared to be water near the bottom. Had Miss Williams been crying as she wrote her letter? His stomach dropped and his anger began to fade almost immediately. Had something happened to make her write these words? Was Lord Hoskins correct in what he believed? If that was the case, then there was still a little hope in his heart, was there not? Hope that all was not lost, that he might find out the truth as to her reasons for ending their closeness. All that he himself was eager for, the bright future that now seemed so completely shattered, might not yet be completely gone from his reach.

  “I think that—”

  “Eat,” Lord Hoskins interrupted, gesturing again to the food. “Your body requires it if it is to recover and I believe it will help your mind also.”

  Grimacing and muttering darkly under his breath, Phillip reached for the first plate and sat it on his lap, looking toward his friend and seeing the way Lord Hoskins grinned at the dark expression on Phillip’s face. With irritation, he began to eat, thinking that the food would turn to ash in his mouth, that his stomach would rebel against the very idea of food at a time such as this, only to realize that he was, in fact, quite famished and eager to eat. Thus, he did so without impediment, finding his mind beginning to quieten itself a little as he did so. No longer did he feel caught by anger, no longer did his mind scream with the pain of what Miss Williams had written. Instead, he discovered a quietness within him now that allowed him the opportunity to consider all that he had read and all that Lord Hoskins had expressed.

  “You say that she wrote this letter once you had informed her of what had happened?” Phillip murmured, setting down the last empty plate and turning to face Lord Hoskins. “It was not already written?”

  “That is as it happened,” Lord Hoskins agreed quietly. “She rose and begged to excuse herself. When she returned, she bore that letter. The time she was absent from the table would have been more than enough to write those words to you, Wiltshire.” His brow furrowed and he looked away for a moment, clearly trying his best to recall something of importance. “In fact, it came directly after she had spoken something I did not understand to her aunt.”

  “And what was that?” Phillip asked, sitting forward in his bed and feeling his side cry out with pain. He ignored it, however, and continued to stare fixedly at his friend, who was still frowning hard.

  Eventually, Lord Hoskins’ expression brightened. “Yes, I recall it quite clearly,” he said, rising from his chair again and making his way across the room to pour Phillip a brandy, as well as adding to his own glass. “She was very upset, of course, but when she looked to her aunt, she said, ‘the note’.”

  Phillip frowned. “What note?” he asked, but Lord Hoskins merely shrugged.

  “I asked the very same thing, but she assured me it was of very little importance. However,” he continued, his expression now darkening a little as his brows pulled even lower over his eyes, his mouth forming a thin line, “Lady Crampton went very white indeed when Miss Williams spoke those two words. Clearly they understood what that phrase meant but neither of them wished to explain it to me.”

  Chewing on his lip for a moment, Phillip shook his head. “It may not have been that they did not wish to do so, Hoskins, but rather that they were not able to do so, for fear of the consequences that would come if they did,” he said slowly, looking down at the letter again and picking it up carefully. “I think that is why Miss Williams writes that it is with regret that she must do so, as if to suggest that it is not her wish at all.”

  Lord Hoskins lifted one eyebrow, then began to nod. Taking a sip of his brandy, he returned Phillip’s gaze with his own. “Then you believe that she is being coerced into bringing your acquaintance to an end?” he asked, and Phillip nodded. “But for what reason?”

  Trying to consider,
Phillip allowed a few thoughts to enter his mind, to tie themselves together and then to float away again. There were certainly a few suggestions, but he would not know of the truth until he spoke to her.

  “I must see her,” he said quickly, but Lord Hoskins shook his head.

  “You cannot,” he replied firmly. “You are still recovering, and it will be some days before you can even rise from your bed.”

  “Then I will write to her,” Phillip replied, determined. “I will tell her that I know she has no wish to bring our acquaintance to a close in such a way and that she is being forced into doing so by another.” A clear idea slammed itself hard into his mind and he sucked in a breath, turning slowly to look at Lord Hoskins. “The injury to my side,” he breathed, suddenly filled with a realization of what had occurred to make Miss Williams write to him in such a way. “That is why she writes.”

  Looking puzzled, Lord Hoskins frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The note she spoke of must have made mention of my injury,” Phillip continued, speaking over the end of Lord Hoskins’ words. “That is why she now breaks herself away from me, because she is afraid that worse will be done if she does not. The person responsible for what has occurred has threatened my life, has told her that I will be brought to the grave if she does not do as he has asked.”

  A slow awareness crept into Lord Hoskins’ expression. His eyes widened, his brow lifted, and he shifted in his chair, leaning forward. “Then there is only one gentleman we need consider, surely,” he said as Phillip closed his eyes tightly for a moment. “Lord Astley.”

  “Or it is her father,” Phillip replied, opening his eyes to see the shock ripple across Lord Hoskins’ expression. “That could be another suggestion, could it not?”

  Lord Hoskins sat back in his chair and did not answer at once. Instead, he drained the rest of his brandy and slammed his glass down hard on the table by the bed. “I can hardly believe that a father would do such a thing to his daughter,” he answered, shaking his head. “But if you believe that Lord Swinton is capable of such things—”

  “Do you not?” Phillip interrupted as Lord Hoskins sighed and ran one hand over his eyes. “Lord Astley might well have done so, but if Lord Swinton wishes for his daughter to marry the gentleman of his choosing but has been forced to permit her to make her own decision, then would it not be possible for him to behave in such a way?”

  His lips twisting, Lord Hoskins let out a long sigh but then shook his head. “Lord Swinton is a thief, certainly, for I believe that he does nothing other than cheat every time he sits to play a hand of cards. But to try and ensure that his daughter marries a gentleman of his choosing by attacking the one she herself has decided upon seems quite ridiculous. He is her father. He could simply tell her that the arrangement has been made and that he expects her to concede and do as she has been instructed. He has every right to do so, but in this situation, it appears that he has given her the choice, despite his wishes. It would not make sense for him to behave as you have stated.”

  “Then you believe it to be Lord Astley?” Phillip asked, still not fully ready to give up on the idea that Lord Swinton might somehow be involved. “I am aware that he was quite eager and determined to wed Miss Williams, but to do something like this…” Frowning, Phillip let out a sigh and rubbed at his eyes. “I do not know. I do not like the gentleman and cannot say a good word about him, but it is quite extraordinary to force the lady’s hand in such a way. What purpose does he have in doing so? Miss Williams is the daughter of a viscount and whilst she will have a decent dowry, it will not be as substantial as the daughter of an earl, say. If it is wealth that he wishes, then why does he not seek out the daughter of a higher titled gentleman? It might be a little more difficult to arrange the match, given that he is a viscount, but it would not be impossible.”

  Silence filled the room for a few minutes but, eventually, Lord Hoskins conceded the fact that he did not know.

  “Then we will have to find out the truth,” Phillip replied firmly. “Lord Swinton and Lord Astley must both be considered.”

  “And Miss Williams?” Lord Hoskins asked as Phillip shook his head. “You will speak to her still?”

  Biting his lip for a moment, Phillip considered and then shook his head. “I wish to see her, of course, but if there is someone watching her, someone making certain that I am not by her side, then I cannot,” he said flatly. “Once I recover, I will do what I can to speak to her quietly, but for the meantime, I will content myself with writing.” He shot a rueful smile toward his friend. “That is all I can do, given that my body still refuses to regain its strength.”

  “She may not respond to you,” Lord Hoskins said slowly, as though he wanted to prepare Phillip for such an eventuality. “If you are correct and either her father or Lord Astley are going to such lengths as this to ensure that she does not continue her closeness with you, then she may be too afraid to be seen even sending a note.”

  “Then mayhap you should visit her again, on my behalf,” Phillip replied, an idea forming in his mind. “Yes, indeed, that would work very well. I will write to her and you shall deliver it for me, whether meeting her by chance in town or at a social event, or by calling upon her directly.”

  This was quickly agreed to by Lord Hoskins, who appeared to be more than willing to do anything he could to help Phillip in this circumstance.

  “But you must be careful,” Phillip finished as Lord Hoskins lifted one eyebrow. “Do not appear to grow to close to her yourself, for fear that you might find yourself injured in such a way as I.”

  A wry smile tipped Lord Hoskins’ lips. “I shall be most careful,” he said, although there was a glint of steel in his eyes. “Whether it be Swinton or Astley, I shall be making sure to remove myself from their sphere of view.”

  Phillip grimaced, his heart already filled with concern for Miss Williams and all that she must be feeling at present. “No matter which one is responsible, they shall not be permitted to succeed. I shall make certain that Miss Williams is aware of that.”

  Lord Hoskins lifted his now empty brandy glass in Phillip’s direction. “May you succeed,” he said with evident determination. “And may their scheme fall to the ground and shatter.”

  With a nod, Phillip lifted his own brandy glass and took a sip, feeling himself grow tired with the effort he had put into speaking and considering as he had done. However, he would not lie down to sleep yet. There was still a letter to be written, a letter of great importance, and he would not allow himself to rest until he had done so.

  11

  Lucinda walked quietly alongside Lord Astley, her heart aching like never before. Her father, who was on her other side, beamed with delight, clearly quite pleased that she was now being courted by Lord Astley, whereas Lucinda herself was sorrowful of heart. Her aunt, Lady Crampton, remained behind with her husband, although Lucinda knew that she watched her with a close eye. Not that such consideration would make any particular difference, of course, for the agreement had already been made between Lucinda and Lord Astley. The moment Lord Astley had received her note, he had responded with another of his own, stating that she would attend a soiree with him where she would remain by his side until he permitted her to step away for a few minutes.

  Lady Crampton, of course, had been horrified with what Lucinda had come to realize, and all the more by the note Lord Astley had returned to her, but had, after some discussion, slowly come to agree that there was nothing else to be done but for Lucinda to do as Lord Astley asked. His vileness and cruelty were so great that there was not enough strength within Lucinda to stand up against it. She had broken her intimacy with Lord Wiltshire in order to protect him, knowing full well that Lord Astley could bring his life to an end, should he wish to do so.

  “You are not smiling.”

  “I hardly think that you can demand that I appear glad in my countenance, Lord Astley,” Lucinda replied, forcing herself to speak with a confidence she did not truly feel.
“Not after what you have demanded of me.”

  Lord Astley’s jaw worked hard for a moment and when he glanced down at her, she could practically feel his anger.

  “You made your own choice, Miss Williams,” he stated, speaking quietly so that her father could not hear. “You can hardly criticize me for such a thing.”

  Lucinda bristled, her eyes lifting to his. “I hardly think that what you have done merits permitting me a choice, Lord Astley,” she replied, not keeping her voice quiet as he had done. “You have forced me into this arrangement.”

  “What is this, Lucinda?” Lord Swinton put a hand on her arm and turned her to face him, his brows furrowing low as he tugged her toward a quieter part of the room. “You cannot speak so in such a place, and certainly not to your betrothed.”

  Jerking her arm away from him, Lucinda felt hot tears come into her eyes but with an effort, forced them back. “I am not betrothed to Lord Astley, Father,” she stated, even though she knew all too well that such a situation would soon be placed upon her shoulders. “I have no doubt, of course, that you are quite contented with his methods of persuading me to court him.” She saw the anger in her father’s eyes, knew full well that he wanted to silence her, to punish her for her outburst, but that in a room full of guests, he could do no such thing.

  “Lucinda, you will silence yourself or I will remove you from Lady Crampton’s house and return you to my townhouse, where you belong,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his gaze fiery and furious. “Do you understand me?”

  Lucinda lifted her chin. No fear was in her heart now, but instead there was a dull sense of inevitability. She was to wed Lord Astley in time, she knew, and there was nothing that she could do about it. And yet, with that came the knowledge that she need not fear her father’s harshness any longer. He had done his worst. Recalling how he had spoken to Lord Astley in quiet tones, murmuring how things could be changed, Lucinda felt her own anger flare into a furious fire.