The Belligerent Miss Boynton AND The Lurid Lady Lockport (Two Companion Full-Length Regency Novels) (19 page)

"Can't do that. Our friend, you know. Must help you," Bo explained.

"I suggest you save your concern for those who may value it. For myself, I wish only my own company, thank you."

Kevin cursed under his breath and threw an empty bottle into the hearth, where it exploded like a pistol shot. "You miserable derelict! Look at you. Just look at you! You haven't shaved in days, your shirt is filthy, and, quite frankly, Jared, you smell bad. Your man tells me you refuse all food and just wallow here swilling brandy. Ever since you met that girl you've been behaving so dashed queer it's as if I hardly know you. First you run off with her, then you marry her, and then in just two short days you bury her in the country with your aunt. Then you come back to London, acting as if the world was going to end tomorrow and you were going to enjoy your remaining time to the fullest. For months you near drove Bo and me mad, bull-rushing all over the city, and for the past three days you've taken to your rooms like a sulking schoolboy. You may be my friend, but quite frankly, old fellow, you disgust me."

"By George, Kevin, that's a bit strong," warned Bo.

Jared waved a limp hand in dismissal. "Let him go, Bo. It's probably the only bit of pleasure he's had in months." He raised his bloodshot eyes to look at his friend. "Is that the end of your homily, or must I listen to more before you feel satisfied?"

"There's a hell of a lot more, Jared, but I'm too tired to waste my energies on a drunken dolt. I'm off to Storm Haven in the morning. Perhaps I can find some answers there."

Jared swayed as he rose to his feet. "The devil you are, Kevin Rawlings. You keep your damned nose out of my business!"

"Ah, so there is some spirit left in that self-pitying body. What secret is there at Storm Haven that you're protecting so fiercely? What happened? Did you murder the chit and bury her in the cellars?"

Jared lunged toward his friend, but his movements were sluggish and Kevin had ample time to sidestep the blow and grab his friend's shoulders. Jared slumped against him and muttered an apology before darkness overcame him. He would have slipped to the floor had it not been for Kevin's strong grip.

"Good," Kevin said with no small satisfaction. "Now we can put him to bed and get his man in here to clean away this mess. Bo, pull the rope and order some food for our fallen friend here while I put him between the sheets. We ought to be able to sober him up enough later to find out what's going on."

In short order the servants had cleaned up the room, and after Kevin forced some soup down his throat Jared allowed his man to shave him. His friends tried to keep him in bed, but he insisted on bathing and getting dressed. When the three friends were finally settled in the downstairs study he apologized to them for his behavior.

"Don't mention it again, old fellow," Kevin said, waving away Jared's apology. "Only one thing, Jared. We do want to help. Do you want to talk about it?"

Jared's lips curled in a sardonic grin. "Not particularly, if you must know. But don't worry that the moment you leave me I'll crawl back inside a bottle. By the way, if you ever have a problem you don't wish to face, don't try to forget it with loose women and a bellyful of brandy. Take it from an expert—neither works." He lit a slim black cheroot and tossed the match into the fireplace. "No, a man has to face his problems, and that's what I must do."

"Would money help? Glad to make you a gift."

"Thank you, Bo, but no amount of money can buy me out of this one. Besides, my drawers upstairs are stuffed with my winnings." Almost to himself he added, 'Lucky at cards, unlucky in love."

Kevin heard him and exclaimed, "Aha! As I said before, Bo, this all has something to do with the young lady we met so briefly. How could one small girl plunge a man into such a sad case of the dismals?"

"Obviously you didn't have more than a passing association with the imp or you wouldn't ask that. My wife is not one of your little society misses, content to spend my money and let me go on about my business. Oh, no, Amanda wants complete surrender. It's all or nothing for her."

"Surrender? Surrender what?" Bo asked. "Never could understand you, Jared. Like you immensely, but don't understand you."

"She wants children."

Bo shrugged. "So? Like them myself. Don't you?"

"Damn it man, of course I do! What kind of a monster do you think I am?"

Kevin was thoughtfully tapping a finger against his lips. After a few moments one eyebrow climbed high on his forehead and he said quietly, "Jared, I seem to remember that your mother died in childbirth."

Jared glared at him.

Kevin winked broadly at Bo. "By Jove, Bo, you were right. He is besotted!" He got up and went to Jared and clapped him on the shoulder. "You're in love with the puss, aren't you? Ah, Jared, the bogeymen we can find when we're in love. Childbearing is what women do best, makes them softer and more pliable. Go to her, man, and give her the child she wants."

Jared's voice was dull. "She could die, Kevin. I can't risk that."

"And you, my friend, could get run down by the mail coach on your way across the street. Life is never sure. Are you willing to give up all chance of happiness because of what happened to your mother? I didn't know you were such a coward."

Jared's head came up at that. "Do you really think that's what I am? A coward? Is that what Amanda thinks? She looked at me queerly as I rode off—not in anger, but more as if I had disappointed her."

Kevin had the upper hand now, and he played it to the hilt. "Wouldn't care to make a judgment on that, Jared. But it is she who's going to have to bear the brat, isn't it? Fine fool you look, being afraid where a little girl isn't, you know."

Bo had been self-consciously casting dice, right hand against left, as the conversation had taken this delicate turn. Now he turned beet red and let out a laugh. "Jared Delaney bested by a female? Hah, Kevin, that is good!"

"Shut up, both of you! And go away, if you don't mind. I need time to think. Go on, I'll be all right. Come back tomorrow morning, prepared to spend some weeks in the country." Slowly a smile lit his eyes. "You'll be my guests at Storm Haven, since you've seen fit to champion me. Oh, don't look so surprised, Kevin—I'd already decided to go home and beg Amanda to forgive me. You've just pulled me out of my black humor a day or two before I thought I'd punished myself enough for my stupidity. Perhaps the two of you can protect me from my little lioness."

"Better than Bath," Bo offered, looking to Kevin. "Can't stomach the waters."

Jared's friends had only been gone from the room for some fifteen minutes before the butler knocked on the door to the study and announced: "Lady Agatha Chezwick, my lord," only to be swept aside by that same lady as she sailed past him, saying, "You're as dead as a red brick, Boggs. You don't announce me—l
live
here!"

As Boggs beat a hasty retreat, she turned to her nephew in a fury. "No. Don't bother to stand up. And don't say anything, either. I am here to take you back to Storm Haven, you naughty boy. You're behaving like a spoiled child and I'm thoroughly disgusted with you."

"You and Kevin should form a club, Aunt," Jared said as he settled back into his chair, amused at the sight of his agitated relative.

"What? Oh, fiddlesticks, I never could understand you when you were tugging my leg with your fancy jokes. I mean what I say, Nephew. You have been the light of my life these past years, but in your latest pranks you have shamed me deeply. You look awful, by the way. I'm glad to see you've been suffering, for it may mature you."

"I live only to please you, Aggie," Jared said, grinning. It was amazing, that's what it was, but he was feeling better by the minute.

"Is that so? Well, in this instance, Nephew, I must tell you that you have fallen far short of the mark! How dare you leave that poor little thing pining her heart out alone at Storm Haven while you kick up your heels in London? Oh, yes, I have friends of my own, you know, Honoria for one, and believe me, she has taken no end of delight in keeping me informed of your activities. Why, the very day your wedding announcement appeared in the Gazette you were seen at Covent Garden, with two Cyprians dangling on your elbows. Where is your sense of shame, Nephew? Where is your honor? And where is my cup of tea? I've been standing here a full five minutes and you have not made one single move to see to my comforts. Are you beyond salvation after all?"

Her breath exhausted for the moment, Lady Chezwick sank into a chair and began fanning herself with her handkerchief.

Somehow she contained her anger until a pot of tea and an assortment of small cakes were placed in front of her by an awestruck footman who looked wonderingly on this intrepid old woman who dared to beard Lord Storm in his own den. Then, rested and refreshed, she continued her assault. Jared believed he may have been disappointed if she hadn't.

"Now, Jared, I wish to have some plain speech with you. I admit to being a bit shocked when you brought Amanda to me, but I must tell you I have never been so pleased with a child in my life. She's a bit unconventional, I have to say—riding astride and all of that, not that she would dare such a thing in Town—but she has taken hold of my heart with her sweetness and charm. I will
not
continue to stand by and let you treat her so shabbily any longer. Do you know what that girl has done these past three months since you went off to sulk?"

"No, Aunt, but I rest easy in the knowledge that you will not allow my lack in this area to continue."

"Don't be fresh. That dear little girl has taken it on herself to completely redo Storm Haven, not as if it didn't need it. Why, you wouldn't believe the changes she has made—all for the better I might add. And her taste is unexceptionable, thanks to her dear departed mother, who clearly taught her well. Everything has been done in the highest degree of style, and the end result is charming, simply charming."

"I certainly hope so, Aggie, for the bills are large enough for her to have refurnished Carlton House. Will Storm Haven now put Prinney to shame?"

"Bother the bills, it's results that count. The house never looked better, and even the village and stables have been redone."

Jared crossed to his desk and pulled out a thick sheaf of papers. "Really, Aunt? Tell me, do any of the eight chandeliers hang in Tempest's stall?"

"Indeed they do not, though I must admit I myself teased Amanda about laying carpets in the stables. The chandeliers hang in the main rooms of the house, Jared, and what fun it is to watch the butler very ceremoniously lower them on chains to light the candles, then raise them up to the ceiling again, from where they send down the most flattering light. I'm considering one for my own bed chamber."

"Ah, that would explain this bill for candles. One hundred and fifty pounds for candies. How silly of me, I should have known. Chandeliers, of course."

Lady Chezwick dismissed the bills with a flip of her hand. "The house itself is but a minor part of Amanda's work. She has bewitched the villagers with her kindness, and has even that crotchety old gardener eating out of her hand. Cook amazes me nightly with her dishes, most of which Amanda taught her to prepare, and she even works on the estate books—I don't know how, for I can never even total up my bill from the milliners."

"Go on, dear lady, I'm enthralled by all of his, really. What other pies does my enterprising wife have her fingers into?"

Lady Chezwick was obviously enjoying herself and continued happily, "Let me see. Well, she is teaching Tom his lessons—he is a sweet child—along with five or six other young scamps from the estate who seem to wander by every afternoon. Work is underway on an orphanage outside the village and, oh, yes, she has ordered a greenhouse built on the south lawn." She settled back in her chair and gave a triumphant smile. "I think that's about all."

"Thank heaven for that. If she doesn't soon stop I shall be bankrupt."

A cloud seemed to pass in front of Lady Chezwick's eyes. "Oh, Jared, I think I had better tell you of two other, er, small
alterations
she's made."

A crease appeared between Jared's eyebrows. "Go on, Aggie, you've come this far. Spit out the rest, since you obviously feel the need."

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Don't rush me, Nephew. Let me say first that I agree wholeheartedly with what she has done. It's time and enough that the past is left to bury itself. As I always say—and you know I always say it, or would, if you ever paid a ha'porth of attention to anything I say—evil deeds are best forgotten, and only the good things should be remembered. Amanda feels the same as I, and I suppose that's why she did what she did. But regardless, she has lightened my old heart considerably."

"Aunt, do try to bring yourself to the point, please."

"Very well, Nephew. I feel I must tell you that your sweet mother's portrait is back in its place of honor over the fireplace in the main salon, only we mostly call it the blue room now. I cannot tell you how it warms my heart to see it there. It was always a lovely thing, and a good likeness of my darling Lavinia. Amanda has taken the blue of her gown and used it to cover the furniture. Let's see, there are three sofa's and five—no, six chairs, some simply lovely rosewood tables and—"

"Aunt Agatha, please, relax, it's all right. I don't mind having my mother's portrait back in the main, er, the
blue
room. I thank Amanda for doing it, as a matter of fact. But what is the second thing you're afraid I won't like?"

She averted her eyes and mumbled, "She had new stones put on the graves."

A tic began to work in Jared's cheek and his knuckles grew white around the stem of his glass. "
Two
stones, Aunt?"

"Y-y-yes."

"One for my father also?"

"Yes! I told you—
two
stones! She had Carlton's monstrosity broken up into a hundred pieces and scattered into the quarry, and then put up two simple stones that have nothing but names and dates on them. Oh, Jared, please don't look at me like that. I know I should have tried to stop her, I knew you would be furious, and you are, but she told me your mother would rest better this way. She said Carlton was a sad and tortured man and couldn't be blamed for what he did. I asked her just what he did, but she wouldn't tell me any more than I already know.