Regency Masquerade (21 page)

“Just so.”

“You?”

“Guilty as charged. Will you go to Cove House, or home to Surrey?”

“Do you think it would be safe to go home?”

“Bow Street will be here by morning to take Stanby into custody. He is wanted in connection with dozens of crimes, including bigamy. He never was legally married to your mama, Moira, so you need not fear he has any claim to your money. We would have called Bow Street in earlier, except that some of his crimes are difficult to prove. The fifteen thousand he got from my cousin Robbie Sinclair, for instance, at a rigged game of cards. That is what brought me down to Blaxstead. Ponsonby’s family—his real name is Lord Everly, by the by—was fleeced by being sold shares in a nonexistent gold mine. The family gave up on recovering their blunt. Everly was told that if he could recover it, it was his. Stanby had never met him, so when he discovered that Stanby was here, he came after him, using a different name. He plans to leave the shares Stanby sold his papa in Bullion’s safe, along with the Crieff jewels. We would not want the major to be left empty-handed.”

Moira listened, waiting to hear what crime Stanby had perpetrated on Hartly. “And you? Had you no personal interest in catching Stanby? I mean—Mott and Ponsonby and I all recovered our money. What do you get for all your work?”

“I hope I get the girl?” he said questioningly, drawing her into his arms. Moira did not resist.

As his lips found hers, she had the strange sensation that, while her head was spinning, her heart had stopped beating altogether. The embrace began as a light, tentative touching of the lips but soon escalated to scalding passion. His lips firmed as his arms tightened inexorably around her in a vicelike grip, nearly suffocating her. A wave of golden exultation unlike anything she had experienced before washed through her. It felt as though a big golden sun were shining, warming her to her very core.

Hartly lifted his head and gazed at her with dark eyes. Then he lowered his head, and she felt a trail of fiery kisses over her eyes and ears. His palm brushed her fevered cheek and moved to cup her chin, tilting her head upward. She saw the tenderness of love glowing softly on her. “Do I get the girl?” he asked, in a ragged voice.

A smile trembled on her lips. “Yes, if you want me. I cannot imagine what you would want with such a depraved creature.”

His matching smile stretched to a grin. “You are sadly lacking in imagination, milady. I want—this,” he said, and kissed her again.

Wrapped up in their love, they did not hear the door open. “I say!” Jonathon exclaimed joyously. “Does this mean he has asked you to marry him?”

Moira drew away in embarrassment. “Certainly not!” she said. “I was just ... just thanking Mr. Hartly . . . that is, Major—I mean Lord Daniel. Oh, what should I call you?” she asked in confusion.

“Call me ‘my fiancé,’ until we are married. That will solve the question.” When she opened her lips to object, he raised a finger. “No welshing on a bargain. You said I got the girl!”

Jonathon rushed forward to pump Daniel’s hand. “I shall call you Daniel. Are you coming home with us, or are we going to your place?”

“That will be up to my fiancée,” Daniel replied. “Eventually, we shall remove to Oakdene, my place in Sussex, when you are a little older, Jon.”

“Oh, do come home with us first,” Jonathon said. “Moira is always saying we need a man around the place, and now that we have our blunt back, we can begin doing all the things that need doing. The roof needs releading, and there is that pasture Papa meant to tile, and—”

Daniel nodded. “As I have an excellent bailiff, perhaps it would be a good idea to go to your place first. But before those decisions are made, I would like to take Moira to Cove House. There will be a certain amount of unpleasantness here tomorrow. We can leave for the Elms in a few days. Moira, does that suit you?”

Moira did not care where she went, as long as she was with Daniel. “That will be fine,” she answered in a daze.

“Excellent. I want to take a couple of barrels of your cousin’s brandy back with me. I shall deliver you to Cove House now. Ring for someone to take down your trunks, Jon.”

“I have already done it, but I do not want to go to Cove House with Moira. I should like to stay here,” he said. “I have never seen a Bow Street Officer. I daresay he will be carrying a gun. You shan’t forget to take me for a ride in your curricle, Daniel? You promised. You will let me take the ribbons when we get home, won’t you? Moira, you have not forgotten you promised I could have a curricle if we got our blunt back from March.”

“For goodness’ sake, Jonathon,” Moira exclaimed. “Stop chattering. You make my head ache.”

“But you will let me stay here with Daniel?”

Daniel said, “If you are in the next room and very quiet, I daresay we shall forget you are there when Moira leaves.”

Jon gave a cheeky grin. “Oh, you mean you want me to leave so you two can snuggle some more.”

“Just so,” Daniel replied blandly.

Jonathon left, and Daniel resumed his interrupted lovemaking.

Copyright © 1994 by Joan Smith

Originally published by Fawcett Crest (0449222764)

Electronically published in 2008 by Belgrave House/Regency

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.