Authors: Kasey Michaels
Blanche's smile faded as she seemed to table any thoughts of seduction to opt instead for a show of bravado. "I'll ignore your childish insults, noting their origin, and agree to forget this little incident if you leave at once. If not, I'll have no choice but to have my servants remove you by force."
Kevin allowed a slight smile to crease one side of his face. "That would be most amusing, Blanche, if you're referring to the two lackeys I met downstairs. However I think they're occupied at the moment, endeavoring to locate their teeth." The smile left his face and his voice turned cold. "No, Blanche, you and I are going to chat undisturbed."
"Of course, Rawlings," she said, eying him carefully. "But stop playing the brute and allow me to continue with my toilette. I'll be going to the theater tonight."
Blanche sidled toward her dressing table as he watched, and opened a small drawer. Still smiling, Kevin reached down to tug sharply at the small rug near his feet, the one that extended beneath Blanche's chair. At his firm yank, she was sent reeling to the floor and a jeweled pistol skidded across the room into a corner. "Naughty, naughty, madam. Those little toys are dangerous, you know. Someone could get hurt. You don't want to be hurt, do you, Blanche? If you do, I find myself almost eager to oblige."
As Blanche picked herself up heavily, she rattled off a string of curses that succeeded in making Kevin laugh out loud.
She changed her tactics, and burst into tears. "I don't understand. What have I ever done to you, my lord? Why are you punishing me so, frightening me so?"
Kevin looked at her with distaste. "Very well performed, Blanche. You should have done well trodding the boards, although I doubt Mrs. Siddons would be much afraid that you would steal her glory. Now, let's try this again. Where's Freddie?"
Blanche dropped her pose of Frightened Innocent in exchange for one of feigned surprise. "Freddie? Which Freddie would that be? I must know a hundred Freddies."
"Yes, of course. I should have been clearer. I meant Lord Storm's cousin Freddie, of course. I have a message for him from his cousin."
"J-Jared?" she questioned softly.
"Yes, madam, Jared Delaney, the man I left at Storm Haven yesterday after he informed me of a dastardly plot that nearly resulted in the deaths of our mutual friends, Bo Chevington and his intended bride. But then, you wouldn't know anything about that either, would you?"
Blanche's sharp green eyes narrowed as she frantically tried to get the facts straight in her mind. "Plots? Deaths? Bo and that insipid little girl? That's why you're here? I don't know what you're talking about. Have Bo and that dear child suffered some sad accident? They were both fine when I saw them at Storm Haven."
"Please, don't insult me with any more of your playacting, Blanche. Your game is up, and clearly Freddie has flown off without telling you of his botched effort, leaving you behind to shoulder all the blame. Oh, don't look so shocked, my dear. Freddie never has been much the one for gentlemanly behavior. Why, if I know the man at all, he probably told you his plan had worked, just so that you'd stay where we could find you, and take all the blame. Which, I imagine, could be arranged. Unless you tell me where he's gone."
She talked then, loud and long. She told Kevin that she'd informed Freddie of Amanda's coming child and, yes, she might even have mentioned the date of the engagement party. Was that it? Was that when it had happened—at the party to announce Chevington's betrothal to that little girl? Oh, yes, it was true enough. She had sought some petty revenge on Jared who, she had convinced herself, had promised her marriage and then reneged. Perhaps she'd even hoped Freddie might do something terrible, but she wasn't sure. She just knew that she'd been badly misused, and very angry. But she swore she knew nothing about any murder plot, any plot at all. Furthermore, Freddie had left the city for his new hunting box in Scotland a full week earlier, and she had no idea when he would return.
"That's all I know, Rawlings, I swear it!" she ended, sobbing. "How was I to know Freddie would try to kill Jared? I don't want that, I—I love him!"
"You have a strange way of loving. In truth, I never could see Jared's taste in women until the fair Amanda. I'd advise you to say nothing to Freddie of our little visit here today. If he still believes his cousin is dead, I want him to enjoy his victory while he's in Scotland, contemplating his inheritance. But, on his return, you can be sure Jared and I both will pay him a small visit. Don't burst his bubble for us, Blanche, or I'll be back to burst yours. Do you understand?"
"What's going on in here?" came a voice from the doorway. "Unhand my intended, you scoundrel!"
Kevin turned just as Peregrine Denton charged at him like an aging bull. He sidestepped neatly and Denton went crashing to the floor by reason of Kevin's strategically outstretched cane. Kevin then tipped his hat at the two, congenially bid them good-day, and took his leave, prudently stopping just to the side on the doorway and pressing himself back against the wall, to listen to what happened next.
"I don't understand. Why was that man here? What was all that about, dearest?" Denton questioned from the floor.
"Quiet, you hopeless dolt!" Blanche shouted. "I need to think." She stepped over the confused man and slammed the door, but her far from dulcet tones were still audible in the hallway. "Damn Freddie for a fool! How can they still be alive? I told him not to trust hirelings. Can the idiot do nothing right?"
#
Kevin lingered a week in London, making discreet inquiries about Freddie and visiting Blanche one more time to be assured she didn't know the location of Freddie's new hunting box. If, indeed, the man wasn't simply hiding in his own cellars.
At the end of the week Kevin knew he must take his leave of the city and report to Jared. Since he hadn't seen Peregrine in two days, he forced himself to make one last call in order to enlist the man's aid in alerting Jared as soon as Freddie showed his face in town. A reminder of the source of the man's allowance should suffice as incentive. It was still early when he called at Denton's lodgings, and a rather slovenly woman dressed in her nightclothes barely opened the door a crack before informing him Mr. Denton was still abed and not receiving.
Kevin turned to leave and then a whim of caprice tickled his brain. He whirled to insert the tip of his cane between the door and the frame and commanded the woman take him to her employer. The crone stepped back sprightly enough at the color of Kevin's coin, and she pointed out Denton's bedchamber before testing the money with her teeth.
Kevin employed the tip of his cane to push open the door. He really was enjoying this new affectation, and wondered why he hadn't taken up carrying a cane before ascending to the earldom. Stature, that's what it was; the cane lent him stature. Either that, or the fact that he was no longer next door to penniless.
No, that wasn't it. His life had changed the moment he'd read the news of Bo's narrow escape, the news that Jared and Amanda might be in danger. Jared had his Amanda, Bo his Anne … and now Kevin had his anger. They were all, it seemed, mutually maturing.
It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the gloom of the small bedchamber, and then what he saw made him turn his head away in disgust.
Peregrine Denton's enormous body was sprawled at the foot of his bed, his nightcap still on his head even as he hung over the edge of the mattress, his mouth agape and spewing forth great raucous snores. Kevin manfully approached the bed, scented handkerchief to his nostrils, and prodded Peregrine's bare belly with the tip of his new cane. "Rouse yourself, you drunken sot!"
At long last Denton spluttered, groaned, and woke sufficiently to attempt to brush away the object that was in danger of impaling him. "What the devil's going on here?" he roared as he struggled to an upright position and surveyed the nattily-dressed dandy who'd had the temerity to invade his bedchamber.
Kevin returned the look, his handsome face a study in genteel disgust. "Dipped a bit deep last night, friend? What's the matter? Woman trouble, I wager."
Denton moaned self-pityingly and cradled his head in his hands. "She threw me over, Rawlings. Sent a note round crying off our engagement with some nonsense about a disparity in our ages. And she'd never even allowed me to announce our upcoming nuptials, so no one knows of my despair. I have no one to pity me. No one." At Kevin's shout of laughter Denton began blubbering like a babe deprived of his sugarplums, wiping at his eyes with the tassel of his nightcap.
"Ah, you poor man," Kevin clucked in mock sympathy. "All your dreams of wedded bliss, shattered by a heartless hussy."
Denton noisily blew his nose into a crumpled handkerchief. "Yes. Oh, yes, indeed. I have been sorely used." He made a last swipe at his tear-reddened eyes and Kevin watched as a dim light suddenly went on in Denton's equally dim brain. "Yes!" he shouted, tossing his nightcap to the floor. "That's it, isn't it? I've been used. But to what purpose? To what end?"
Kevin quietly supplied an answer. "I believe your step-daughter figures in here somehow, don't you agree?"
Denton nodded furiously, dislodging his night cap. "I think Blanche doesn't like Amanda," he said, his eyes shifting toward the floor. "I think she might even wish the chit some harm." He looked up at Kevin once more. "You don't suppose she was only using me to get herself invited to Storm Haven, do you? How could she do that, when I loved her so much?"
Kevin almost softened to Denton's sincere heartache, but his realization of the man's involvement, intentioned or not, in the plot against his friend stopped him short of extending the man any pity. Instead he dropped any thought of enlisting the man's aid—the man couldn't help himself out of bed on his own—and rudely advised Denton to hare himself off for unknown parts before Blanche decided Peregrine's presence on this earthly coil was no longer necessary to her schemes.
"Are you inferring, sirrah," Denton blustered angrily, "that my dearest angel might actually try to do away with me?"
"Oh," Kevin replied with a wicked grin, "and Amanda said you were dim. I must tell her she was mistaken." With that he donned his new curly-brimmed beaver, rewarded Denton with the sight of a perfectly executed leg, and turned for the door. "A prudent man would be packing by now, I believe," he said as he strolled away, and even before the front door could close behind him he heard Denton calling loudly for his housekeeper.
"Poor dumb fool," he muttered half to himself as he tooled his curricle through Mayfair. The knocker, he saw, was gone from Blanche's door—the accepted method of informing callers that a person was away from home. There was nothing for it but to return to Storm Haven and put the facts he'd discovered before Jared.
It confounded him that there was no real proof to tie Freddie or Blanche to the attack on Jared's coach, even though he was prepared to deal with them outside the law. That would, of course, also necessitate flight to America afterwards, and in truth the loss of his newly acquired lands and fortune did not appeal. But Jared's dilemma was much worse, for he had a family to consider.
During the journey to Storm Haven, and while mentally casting himself in the role of Avenger of the Innocent, Kevin considered and rejected plans to bring Freddie and Blanche out into the open. He arrived at his destination with only one thought firm in his mind: Freddie was not done. He would bide his time, surely, but he would try again, and they must be ready for him. For now all four of them were targets now. Bo, himself, Jared, and the increasingly pregnant Amanda.
He was sure of one other thing—that this last bit of deduction was one Jared had already made on his own.
#
After Kevin's return to Storm Haven he, Bo, and Jared spent many long hours closeted in Jared's study planning their next moves, only to realize the next move must come from Freddie.
There was no way of knowing where in Scotland the man was hiding. But if Blanche had been lying and did know, she was sure to have contacted him. He would know of the error his henchmen had made, even if he were out of touch with the London dailies.
And he would strike at them again, for he had nothing to lose now, and everything to gain.
Yet, as the weeks passed without incident the three men began to believe Freddie must have fled the country for good, knowing full well what would be waiting for him if he dared show his face in England again. In any event, an item in the columns relating Blanche Wade's departure for a prolonged house party in Ireland went a long way toward relieving their minds.
Then a letter arrived from Denton, requesting the an increase in his allowance, the return address causing Amanda to wonder what her city-loving stepfather could possibly find to amuse him in the wilds of Cornwall.
"Rusticating for his health," Jared suggested, with tongue firmly in cheek. And, although Amanda was confused by this answer, she was not interested enough in Denton to pursue the subject.
Amanda remained somewhat subdued as the weeks went along, but with Nanny's scoldings and Lady Chezwick's pleadings she began to take up the threads of her life again and look forward to the birth of her child. Because of her melancholy, and then because of her increasing bulk, there were no more social events held at Storm Haven. The weeks passed quietly and swiftly until the first snowfall of the season made the small party realize that Christmas would soon be upon them.
Bo had continued on at the Squire's pending his marriage to Anne early in the Spring, but he hadn't visited Storm Haven in over a week as one snowfall followed another and the freezing temperatures kept any of the white blanket from melting. By Christmas Week, the estate was effectively cut off from the outside world.
No one was able to leave, but more importantly, no one was able to approach. With the threat of mischief from Freddie at least temporarily removed, Jared and Kevin relaxed their surveillance and concentrated on making this a Christmas the ladies would never forget.