Good Earl Gone Bad (31 page)

And to her shock, when she opened her eyes, she saw that he told the truth. He was whole. And unharmed.

Turning, she saw that Lord Payne was on the floor, a gaping wound in the back of his head.

“Don't look,” Jasper said, turning her head into his shoulder.

“But how?” she asked, gripping him hard against her in gratitude for his being unharmed.

“That was me, I'm afraid, Lady Mainwaring,” said the Duke of Trent from the doorway. “I'm sorry for the mess, but I couldn't let him make a widow of you so soon after the wedding. What sort of friend would I be if I allowed such a thing to happen?”

The absurdity of it made Hermione laugh. Which quickly turned into crying.

Jasper held her tight against him and soothed her, stroking his hand over her back. “I think it's time I took you home,” he said in a low voice.

And to her surprise, he slipped his hands beneath her knees and lifted her into his arms.

“I'm taking your carriage, Trent,” he told his friend.

And to Hermione's astonishment, her husband, who did not drive, lifted her into the curricle, and climbed up beside her and drove them home.

*   *   *

“I told you before, my dear, that just because I choose not to drive does not mean I cannot,” Jasper said as he carried Hermione from the carriage and into his town house.

Not batting an eyelash, Greaves gave no indication that there was anything unusual in having the master of the house carry the lady of house inside. “Shall I have cook send supper to her ladyship's bedchamber, my lord?”

“Yes, thank you, Greaves,” he said, not bothering to stop. “And please tell my mother and sisters that we are not to be disturbed.”

It was likely that Sir Richard would require him to answer some questions but the Home Office could wait until tomorrow to debrief him about what Lord Payne had confessed to. From what Trent had said, Fleetwood had been apprehended and he would likely keep them quite busy for the rest of the evening. He would certainly have a great deal more to tell them than Jasper would. He had little doubt that Payne had told his tale with an attempt to paint himself in the cleverest light possible. Unless Fleetwood told the unvarnished truth, they might never know the whole story.

“All this time,” Hermione said, once he'd set her down on the counterpane of her bed, “I thought you were so traumatized by your father's death that you'd avoided driving altogether.”

“It isn't something I enjoy,” he admitted, removing his boots then climbing up onto the bed beside her. When she turned to wrap her arms around him, he felt a peace that he only knew in her presence. “But I can do it. If absolutely necessary.”

“Evidently,” she said with a shake of her head. “And this whole time I was feeling superior because I had this skill that you didn't.”

“I'm hardly as skilled as you are behind the reins, my dear,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “In fact, I doubt there are many men in the country who are better than you. And that is not just a husband's pride speaking.”

He watched with pleasure as she preened. How on earth had he managed to exist without this woman in his bed, in his life? He knew he had done so, but it was difficult to imagine his life if she were to suddenly vanish from it.

“A penny for them,” she said, looking up at him from beneath her dark lashes.

He kissed the end of her nose. “I was thinking that I'm very much afraid you've become indispensable for me.”

He watched as his words sank in, caused a blush of pleasure to rise in her cheeks.

“Truly?” she asked in a soft voice.

And suddenly he knew that he couldn't go one more minute without telling her exactly how he felt.

“The thing is, Hermione,” he said carefully, not wanting to ruin the most important words of his life, “it's been some time since I was able to think of my life without you in it. I very much am afraid I've fallen in love with you.”

And to his horror, her eyes filled with tears.

Damn it, he cursed himself. It was too soon. He'd known it was, but he'd been buoyed by the moment and the excitement of the afternoon.

“It's all right,” he said hurriedly. “You don't have to feel the same. Please pretend as if I never said anything.”

But to his shock, she sobbed harder. “Please, Hermione. Don't.”

“I'm not crying from sorrow, you silly man,” she said, slapping him without much force on the shoulder. “I'm crying from happiness.”

“Why?” he asked suspiciously, not ready to believe the evidence of his own eyes quite yet.

“Because I love you, too, Jasper,” she said with a watery smile.

“You do?” he asked, shocked despite himself. He was so sure she'd be resistant to the idea.

She shook her head sadly. “It looks as if I'm going to have to spend the entire evening proving it to you,” she said with a sigh.

“I think that would be for the best,” he said with a grin. “In fact, I really think you'll need to do it every evening for the rest of our lives.”

And that's just what she did.

 

Epilogue

“How pleasant it is to enjoy the open air without fear that one or the other of you will be assaulted by a crazed murderer,” said the Duke of Trent from his lounging position on the edge of the picnic blanket.

In celebration of the fine weather, and the apprehension of the remaining members of the gang of horse thieves run by Lord Payne, Hermione and Jasper had organized an outing for their close friends in Richmond.

“If not for some quick thinking from you, Trent,” Jasper said as he peeled an apple for his wife, “I don't think we'd be here right now.” He exchanged a meaningful look with Hermione as he handed her the skinless fruit.

It had been two weeks since their dangerous encounter in Half-Moon Street, and in the interim, the newlyweds had only grown closer. Hermione had even begun to teach Jasper the finer points of curricle driving, though she acknowledged that he was competent without her suggestions. He simply claimed he wanted to be better. And Hermione did not argue.

“Have you learned any more about what might happen to Miss … that is, Mrs. Fleetwood?” Ophelia asked, her brow furrowed. “I could not help but like her that day we met her. And it cannot have been easy for her to refuse her husband's demands for her to assist them in their plots.”

“But going so far as to seduce Lord Saintcrow?” Leonora asked with a shudder. “That must have taken a great deal of poise on her part. I'm not sure I would be able to do the same in her position.”

“You might if your life was being threatened,” Hermione said. “I did sense that there was some underlying sadness about her. But I assumed it was from the death of Saintcrow. Now of course we know that she was constrained to act on her husband's orders. It must have been awful. No wonder we heard her crying out that day in the Fleetwood garden.”

“I believe the lady has been given a great deal of latitude by the authorities,” Jasper said, slipping his hand into Hermione's. “I think it likely she will escape without any punishment.”

“Let us talk about something more cheerful.” Leonora said, leaning back against Freddy's strong chest. “Like how we all intend to spend the summer.”

London society was notoriously empty during the warm summer months. And many families used the time to retreat to their country estates.

“We will be leaving for the Lake District in a month or so,” Hermione said with a nervous smile. “It will be my first trip to the Mainwaring estates as countess. I hope the servants there will not find the transition to a new mistress terribly difficult.”

“This self-doubt from the first lady to gain entrance in the Lords of Anarchy?” Jasper teased. “I am shocked!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I am quite confident about my ability to control a curricle, Jasper. A country estate will be an entirely new experience for me.”

“But how will your mother take the transition, Mainwaring?” asked Freddy with a wink. “I believe that is the thing you heirs are forced to deal with. Much better, to my mind, to be a younger son with no fear of war between one's wife and one's mother.”

“Mama has been surprisingly sanguine about allowing Hermione to take the reins, so to speak,” Jasper said. “In fact, I believe she plans to remove to the dower house when we travel to Keswick. Which is something I never thought I'd see happen.”

“Perhaps she had a meeting of the minds with her daughter-in law,” Ophelia said with a grin. “We all know how persuasive Hermione can be when she truly wants something.”

The murmured agreements made Hermione throw up her hands. “I am not that bad,” she said, her cheeks pink.

“Not bad,” Jasper said, bussing her on the cheek. “Just determined.”

“Speaking of determined,” Trent said once the laughter had died down. “How is Upperton getting along?”

Hermione's father had spent his convalescence at the Mainwaring town house, but almost as soon as he was able, he took rooms at the Albany Hotel. The house in Half-Moon Street, as part of Lord Payne's holdings, was tied up in probate, and besides that, Upperton was hardly eager to live in the house where Payne had lost his life. No matter how much of a villain the man might have been.

“He seems to be faring well enough,” Hermione said with a shrug. “He has told me he plans to curb his time at the tables, but I will wait and see.”

“I would think having one's throat cut would put a damper on his desire to visit Mrs. Wallingford's establishment,” Freddy said with raised brows.

“We all know there are dozens more places for him to find a game,” Jasper said, with an apologetic look at his wife. “Though I do believe he limits himself to small stakes these days. Rome wasn't built in a day.”

“And he has promised to come to the country with us,” Hermione added with a smile. “He hasn't been out of London in I don't know how long. So I do have some hope.”

“What of the rest of you?” Jasper asked. “Any great plans for the summer?”

“We will be traveling to Pemberton House,” Leonora said, naming the country estate of Freddy's parents, the Duke and Duchess of Pemberton.

“Well, I shall be stuck here in London while all of you are gone away to the bucolic countryside,” Ophelia said wryly.

“I think ‘stuck' is not quite the right word,” Hermione said with a speaking look at her friend. “Considering that you will be doing what you love best in the world.”

“And what is that, pray?” the Duke of Trent asked with interest. “I do not believe I've ever heard Miss Dauntry express a great love for anything in particular.”

“Don't be an ass, Trent,” Freddy said without much heat.

But Jasper trained his quizzing glass on his friend with a speaking look, until Trent rolled his eyes and protested, “I will not retract the question, but perhaps my tone was less than respectful. My apologies to the lady.”

“If you must know, duke,” said Ophelia with dignity, “I write occasionally for a ladies' newspaper, the
Genteel News
. And I will be spending the summer as guest columnist while my colleague is away in the country.”

“A newspaper writer?” Trent said, his head tilted in query. “I had no idea, Miss Dauntry. But the mystery of how you became friends with Leonora is now solved. Your association with Hermione, however, is still inexplicable.”

Hermione threw the core of her apple at him. “We met through Leonora, you great gudgeon. And just because I am a driving aficionado does not mean I am illiterate.”

“I never said as much, Countess,” said Trent with a staying hand. “Pray, why are the ladies all suddenly on the attack?”

“You brought it on yourself, old fellow,” Freddy said with a shrug.

“Our ladies do not take insult without a fight,” Jasper added.

“I would hardly cast aspersions on the countess's driving anyway,” Trent said, looking put out. “It would quite hypocritical of me to do so.”

The rest of the group exchanged puzzled looks. Trent was many things, but known for his driving skills was not one of them.

“Oh ye of little faith,” said Trent with a shake of his head. “I beg leave to inform you that you are looking at the new president of the Lords of Anarchy.”

“The devil!” Jasper said. “You're joking.”

“I am absolutely not joking,” said the duke with all sincerity.

“Why?” Freddy demanded, with real concern. “Do you have a wish to find yourself sent away or murdered? For I am sure you know that the men in that position do not survive for very long without suffering either fate.”

“If you must know,” Trent said with a lift of his shoulder, “I've been bored. You ladies might not be aware of it, but estate business can be dashed dull. And I miss the camaraderie of the military life.”

“But surely you can find a better way to have it than to lead the most notorious driving club in town,” Hermione said with a shake of her head. “I
like
you, duke. And I actually think you're a good enough driver to belong, but that club seems to be cursed.”

“Then we'll simply have to see if I can pull it off,” Trent said with a grin. “And perhaps you will consider rejoining the club once all the excitement of Fleetwood's trial has died down, Lady Mainwaring.”

Hermione looked at Jasper. Who put up his hands. “Don't look at me. You can make that decision on your own. Though for what it's worth, I feel less queasy about you joining while Trent is at the helm than I did when Payne was the leader.”

“Since Lord Payne was a murdering scoundrel,” Trent put in, “I should hardly take that as a compliment. But thanks all the same, Mainwaring.”

Hermione looked from one man to the other, and finally grinned. “Then I accept your offer, your grace.”