A Lover of Men (9 page)

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake. Jack, more tea and something to eat please. This time I will pour.” When Eustace stared at her, she flapped a hand in irritation. “I shall explain. Mr. Marner, if you would be good enough to go and find my future husband and his dear friend Mr. Gaudi?”

Shoulders squaring, Nicolas fired off a salute. “Yes, ma’am. I shall return as soon as possible.” With that, he left them, nodding to Amelie and Eustace.

“What a lovely man,” Amelie murmured, her cheeks pink.

Eustace rolled his eyes. “Someone had better explain something to me soon.”

“Oh, come and sit.” Furious, Lelia led the way to the parlor, which was so much less formal than the drawing room. Worry gnawed at her, but Rafe was out there, and now this Nicolas, who seemed perfectly capable of violence if need be.

She had to believe one or both of them would manage to keep Phineas safe.

****

Phineas woke, his head feeling as if someone was splitting it open like an egg. When he tried to open his eyes, he gagged, the light spearing into his brain. Good God, who had hit him from behind? Richard Mattheson had been standing in front of him. So who was the partner?

He rolled to one side, which was when he found his hands bound behind him. He curled his hands into fists, testing the bonds, and pain shot through his shoulders. Damn. Someone had done a fine job binding him up. The rough, damp wood beneath him made him wonder if he’d been tossed on a ship, but soon enough he realized he was in some sort of mews, the smell of horse manure strong in his nose.

Phineas opened his eyes again, slowly this time. A lamp hung on a beam, lighting his surroundings. Yes, definitely a small, private stable, and he lay on a walkway made of boards, which at least saved his attire from the mud and shit.

They clearly had not known what to do with him once they had him.

Phineas wiggled to a seated position, groaning softly when his head throbbed. He hoped none of his brain had leaked out of that crack…

“We can’t just kill him! I was the last one seen with him. They’ll know it was me.” That was Richard, Ned’s bastard brother. His voice sounded as if he was just on the other side of the wall. “You’re such a coward,” another man sneered. “You should have just called him out in the first place.

“As long as he was alone and miserable I was perfectly happy to let him be.” Richard sighed. “I’m not a killer.”

“No? I imagine Moore would beg to differ. He thinks all of the attempts on his life and loves came from you.”

“I know. Thanks for that, Uncle.”

Well, now. That gave Phineas much to work with. If a bastard son had inherited Edmund Mattheson’s title, then the uncle must be maternal. Either Ned’s maternal uncle or Richard’s. Interesting that Richard maintained he hadn’t been the one to make the attempts on him and Lelia and Rafe.

“If you’re too squeamish to finish him, I will,” the uncle’s voice said.

“No! No, we need to make it look like an accident.” Richard sounded so exasperated Phineas actually found himself smiling. “Toss him in front of a carriage.”

Ouch. Well, then, time to get moving. Phineas wiggled, testing how much noise he would make. If he could hear them, they could hear him.

“Come inside and we’ll discuss it,” the uncle’s voice said, and the two men moved away, no doubt thinking he was still unconscious.

“Very well. I should check on him.”

“He’s bound hand and foot. Where can he go?”

Once again Phineas chuckled. Ah, the gentry. They had no idea what a soldier went through during war, officer or not. This was like a summer trip to the lake compared to Spain.

As soon as their footsteps faded, Phineas inched toward the door, intent on pushing himself up on the doorjamb and then finding a latch or something to break his bonds.

“You leave me very little chance to save you, sweet.”

Phineas jumped, banging his head on the wall, which made him grunt. “Shh.”

“No, no, they went to have a port or some such.” Rafe appeared at his side and gently untied his hands. “Really not very good villains.”

“Thank God for that. Where are we?” Pins and needles began flowing through his hands and up his arms as the blood started running once more through his veins.

“Mattheson’s townhouse mews.”

“Good heavens.” He laughed and rose unsteadily when Rafe pulled him upright. “Lelia?”

“Waiting for us at her home. Her cousin is with her.”

“Good. Good. What are we to do with the rascals trying to kill us?”

“Set the house on fire?”

“Rafe!” Phineas shook his head. “No, we should set the authorities on them.”

“We should need to deliver them to the magistrate then. Do you really want the bother?”

“What do you suggest then?”

Rafe kissed his bruised face gently, the contact making his heart race. “It’s a standard practice to hire someone to deliver them to the jail for the accusation and to await trial. I happen to know just the man.”

“Hmm.” Phineas nodded slowly. Even if nothing came of a trial, the humiliation and scandal would be enough to send Mattheson and his uncle running to the country and stop them bothering Phineas and his loves.

And if it didn’t work that way, they could always burn someone’s house down.

“Very well,” Phineas said. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“Naturally, sweet. I would never forgive myself if you were really harmed.”

They made their way out into the night, and a figure detached itself from the shadows. “All is well, Rafe?”

“It is. We’ll need to deliver Lord Mattheson and his… uncle? To the magistrate.”

“Really?” The man was blond, broad shouldered, and too much like an avenging angel for Phineas’ taste. How did Rafe know this man? “I think it better to confront them now. Threaten to take them in, wave a half-cocked pistol about. Does Sir Phineas here really want to delay his wedding for a trial?”

Rafe’s white, happy smile flashed in the gloom. “I do love a good fight. Phineas?”

Lelia would probably kill him. This was a terrible idea. “Yes. Let’s go.”

They made their way to the townhouse, and Phineas experienced once more the thrill of going into battle with his comrades.

He could only hope this struggle ended far better than the last stand his company had made at Corunna.

****

Rafe knew he should have taken Phineas directly back to Lelia. The man was not at his best, having been beaten unconscious, but Rafe deeply felt they needed to solve this tonight. End it now.

They went in through the back, the kitchen door open to their entry. Nicolas faded away into the dark, and Rafe knew he would flank the men in whatever room they sat in, would find a servant’s hall.

He and Phineas would burst in with the pistol Nic had brought along, threatening the bastard until he pissed his pants.

Phineas followed him, at the ready, his big body alert. Rafe wanted to toss him down on the floor and ravish him until he couldn’t breathe. Now was not the time to digress.

They found Mattheson and his uncle in a parlor, both of them deep in a glass of brandy, not port. When Rafe slammed into the room, he went right, Phineas to the left.

“What the hell?” Mattheson jumped to his feet, and Rafe leveled the half-cocked gun at him.

“Stop. Sir Phineas would like a few choice words with you both.”

The uncle was a tall, paunchy man who backed as far into a corner as he could, hands raised. “What is this?”

Phineas stepped forward. “You’ve tried over and over to dispose of me and my future bride, as well as Rafe here. This is your opportunity to stop. Otherwise we will deliver you to the magistrate.”

The young Mattheson had gone pale, looking back and forth between them. “I— I don’t want to kill you, Moore. I just want you to suffer.”

“I have suffered. Every day. I will never forget Ned.” Phineas made an impassioned speech, hands spread wide.

Which was a mistake, because Richard and Rafe watched him, not the older man, who had slipped behind a chair and opened a cabinet.

“Gaudi!” Nic shouted, and he turned, cocking his pistol all the way.

“No!” Lord Mattheson shouted the denial and charged between Rafe and Phineas. Rafe didn’t know if he was protecting them or trying to save his uncle.

Nic leaped for the old man, who moved with surprising quickness, skittering away and turning to fire his weapon at Rafe.

The searing pain of a ball crossing his arm made Rafe grunt with surprise, and he staggered, which was when Richard grabbed his weapon out of his grasp.

“Rafe!” Phineas charged at him, but Mattheson did not turn and shoot Phineas. Instead, he turned the pistol toward his uncle and pulled the trigger.

Nic, who had been struggling with the older man, staggered back, blood blooming on his shirt. Damnation. This was a disaster.

Before Rafe could move, however, Phineas rushed at Richard and took the now useless pistol before taking two more strides and slamming the uncle in the head with the butt. The man went down like a felled tree, landing in a heap on the floor.

When Richard would have run, Rafe caught him by the arm. “No. You will stay and deal with this, my Lord.”

“I just wanted someone to pay for Ned. Uncle James said Phineas needed to stay unhappy. I—” Richard turned to Phineas. “I did not try to hurt your lady. That was my uncle.”

“But Rafe you would happily dispatch?” Phineas drawled.

“I was desperate. He’s quite mad. Uncle James. He pushed and pushed.”

“Then find your balls and have him committed.” Nic panted, hand over his shoulder.

Rafe went to him, checking the wound, and Nic nodded to Rafe’s arm. “You, too.”

“Just a scratch.”

“Mmm. You might have to dig a ball out of me.”

“Please. I’ll make sure no one bothers you again. I swear.” Richard went to his uncle and knelt. “I will deal with him. I’m— I’m so sorry.”

Whether or not Richard was truly sorry mattered not. What mattered was Rafe believed him. He glanced at Phineas, who nodded. “Let’s go home. We all need attention.”

Nic grinned. “I’ll find my own sawbones.”

“Nonsense,” Phineas said. “Lelia will need something to do or she will be furious she missed the adventure. Come along.”

Rafe followed happily, and when Phineas stopped him by the front door to kiss him until his ears rang he was even happier.

Perhaps this had been more misadventure than success, but it had been utterly worth it for a kiss like that.

****

When Lelia went to her bedroom finally she felt a though she’d been drug behind a carriage for the length of Hyde Park.

Her men had come home, mostly whole, and assured her that the villain would not be back to bother them.

From Phineas’ lips to God’s ears, she hoped.

Mr. Nicolas Marner had been divested of a shot in his upper arm, and Rafe had required a good washing and bandaging. Phineas seemed well save for a bump on the back of his head.

Amelie had taken to nursing Mr. Marner, who was ensconced in the blue bedroom. Rafe had made his excuses, and she had caught him in the hall to send him upstairs rather than away.

Why pretend she did not want him here?

Phineas met her at the bedroom door. “We should leave you, love.”

“No. I fear you have had all the fun alone together that I am willing to allow.” Lelia put a hand to his chest and pushed him backward into the room.

“Now, Lelia. Rafe and I are hardly in any shape for fun, as you call it.”

“No? Pity.” She winked at him. “Then you may sleep. With me. I want to keep an eye on you both.”

“We’re not married yet.”

“Oh, bosh. We’ve had the wedding night, haven’t we?”

“She’s quite bossy, isn’t she?” Rafe asked from where he lay in her bed. Gracious, he looked tanned and masculine against her white sheets.

“I am. Get used to it, Rafael Gaudi. I think Phineas and I need to engage your services permanently.”

“Do you, indeed.” Rafe rose up on one elbow, then held out his other hand to her. “Come tell me all about it.”

Lelia laughed, taking Phineas to the bed with her. Oh, this was going to be so much fun.

The week before the wedding meant a mad rush to the country, where Eustace was holding a grand weekend party for them with all of his family and friends.

Lelia had no notion who most of them were, but she didn’t care. No, she was focused on her groom and their lover. Well, Rafe was Phineas’ lover, and he had shared more than one kiss with her, but she had yet to experience them all together.

Damnation, it was time. Lelia adjusted her hat and headed outside where the men were strolling about the grounds, intent upon gathering her men for a communion of minds.

“Lelia!” Amelie caught her as she stepped outside. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course.” She smiled at her cousin’s wife, who looked young and fresh in a pink flocked morning gown and a bonnet with wooden cherries hanging from it. “Is something wrong?”

“No! No. Not at all. I just have a question. Eustace was wondering…”

Lelia raised an eyebrow and waited, knowing with Amelie the key was patience.

“Can Rafael contact Nicolas Marner? Eustace would like to invite him for the weekend.”

“Would he?” Eustace and Amelie had stayed with her for several days after the confrontation with Richard Mattheson, seemingly intent upon nursing Nicolas through the fever he developed. Lelia smiled when Amelie’s cheeks pinked. “I shall ask him.”

“Thank you.” Amelie nodded her sharp chin toward the garden. “I believe your intended is out there.”

“Perfect.” She popped open her parasol and made her way to a large shade tree, where Phineas lay with his hands behind his head, Rafe seated a few paces away. “Gentleman, I need a word with you both.”

The alacrity with which they jumped to their feet pleased her. “Is something amiss, love?” Phineas asked.

“Yes. I need you to abandon this lovely day. We have something to discuss in private.”

Rafe’s dark eyes twinkled at her, as if he knew what she was about. “Do we?”

Lelia firmed her mouth. “We do. Follow me please.” She turned on her heel and led the way back to the manor house, her two men following at her heels. She did not stop until she reached the bedchamber assigned to Phineas. It had the biggest bed.