The Belligerent Miss Boynton AND The Lurid Lady Lockport (Two Companion Full-Length Regency Novels) (56 page)

As they drove away from the light of the bonfire, Gilly remarked to Amanda, "I do know I can count on Glynis, just as she said. I'm just not sure
what
it is I can count on her to do."

#

The sun had been up for more than an hour before the rundown wagon creaked its way up the circular drive in front of The Hall to be met at the steps by the Earl, his guests, and half the servants.

"Where in bloody Hell have you been?" Kevin roared without preamble.

"Glynis didn't tell you," Gilly said in a voice devoid of surprise.

"No, she didn't
tell
me," Kevin parroted sing-song. "What in blazes didn't she tell me?"

Jared Delaney, who had been married longer and had been heir to more than one of Amanda's impulsive starts, remained silent and only walked to the far side of the wagon to assist his wife in stepping down onto the driveway.

"I asked Glynis to tell you, though I had my doubts that she would," Gilly explained as Kevin hauled her unceremoniously from the wagon seat and deposited her none too gently on the stone drive.

"Why did you ask her then, you idiot?" Kevin bellowed, clearly not remembering that the two of them were to present themselves as a happily wed couple. "You've got to be the most thoughtless, ramshackle, cotton-headed creature in Nature. I'm entirely out of patience with you!" Not daring to say more until he got himself back under control, Kevin stomped some paces down the drive and began searching his pockets for a cheroot.

"Is this a sign that he cares?" Gilly could not resist asking Amanda in a whisper.

Amanda giggled irrepressibly. "If it is, love, I believe I would strive to seek out actions that produce such signs to less dangerous degrees. For a moment there, I thought poor Kevin was about to have himself an apoplexy," she said, earning her a stern look from the love of her life.

Gilly merely shrugged. Really, she just couldn't see what all the fuss was about. Jared seemed calm enough, just as Amanda said he would be, and Gilly had been responsible only to for herself for so long that it had not occurred to her that Kevin could be seriously worried about her welfare. Angry that she hadn't been in his bed last night, yes. That she could understand. But to see him so worried? Did he honestly believe she couldn't take care of herself, that she needed him, or his permission, before living her life?

She'd asked Glynis to tell Kevin where she was going last night more as a simple courtesy than anything else. After all, hadn't she been running the estate freely almost since she could walk? What harm could possibly befall her in Peg Jenkins's cottage? Kevin was just behaving like a man again—flying up into the treetops over the silliest thing. Did he think she was some helpless babe not to be trusted off leading strings?

"If anyone is interested," she at last announced to the group around her, "Peg has come up with a second girl after six straight boys. Mother and child are fine and everything went smooth as silk."

Kevin whirled about, his unlit cheroot dangling from his slack mouth. "Peg? Peg Jenkins? What the devil did you have to do with Peg Jenkins's baby?"

"I delivered it, of course," she returned levelly. "Amanda helped me, although Peg, bless her, did most of the work. That makes fifteen babies for me now, seven of them all by myself since old Mrs. Yorby died. She was the midwife," she added unnecessarily.

"You have no business any place near a childbed," Kevin accused her hotly. "You're not much more than a babe yourself. It's—well, it's indecent, that's what it is."

Gilly may have been tired, she may have had a most curst headache after a sleepless night and too much mead, but she wasn't about to back away from this particular fight. Who did Kevin Rawlings think he was, anyway? Her keeper? "Indecent is it! Babe, am I?" she shrieked back at him. "Why for a penny piece I'd black your eyes for that!"

As the two appeared about to come to blows, Amanda plucked at Gilly's sleeve and whispered, "Remember, Gilly, we must guide them through these unsettled moments. It's our duty. Watch me," she said, and winked at her before turning to go back to her husband.

Grasping her husband's arm with both hands, Amanda pressed herself close to his side and looked up at him with her molten gold eyes. "Oh dearest, I'm so sorry Glynis neglected to tell you where I was. You must have been frantic with anxiety. I don't know how I could have been so thoughtless. I should have made certain you knew Gilly and I were going to help Mrs. Jenkins. But I was so caught up in the excitement of being there to see a new little baby come into the world that I just didn't think."

Tilting her head to one side, she pressed on, "Can you ever forgive me? I promise never again to be so bacon-brained, really I do."

Jared looked down at his wife's woefully contrite expression and, obviously enjoying all this attention, answered hesitantly, "I don't know, Amanda. You did give me quite a scare, you know. I didn't sleep a wink all night. As a matter of fact, we were just about to launch a search party when you drove up. Why should I forgive you so easily?"

"Oh, you poor darling!" his wife exclaimed in a voice near to dripping with concern for her beleagured husband. "I didn't sleep at all either. Perhaps if we retire at once to our chamber, we can both rest a bit. Lean on me, dearest, and as we climb the stairs together perhaps I can think of a way to make it up to you for all you've suffered."

Halfway up the steps to the wide front doorway, they both turned their heads towards the couple still on the drive, Amanda directing an impish wink at Gilly, and Jared just sort of blissfully gazing toward the courtyard, a fatuous grin on his face.

So that's how it's done
, Gilly mused as she watched the retreating figures and fought down the urge to give Amanda's performance a round of applause.
Seems a bit too treacle-heavy and sweet to me. Oh, well
, she decided, shrugging.
I may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb!

"Kevin, dear," she cooed, wrapping her hands around his sleeve as he went to stomp past on his way to the door, still clearly not ready to forgive her. "I cannot
begin
to express my remorse for not having informed you of my whereabouts last night. How totally selfish it was of me not to realize you would be concerned for my welfare. How can I ever make it up to you?"

Kevin looked down at her hands, then smiled into her face. "How lovely that you should ask, wife," he said in a voice soft as velvet. "I believe I know just the way."

Gilly smiled happily and took one step towards The Hall, only to be hauled backwards, lifted off the ground, and deposited rump-up over Kevin's raised knee as he half knelt on the drive. He administered two quick, hard smacks to her posterior before she could even gain her breath to mount a protest.

Once he'd set her on her feet again, and painfully aware that her embarrassment had been witnessed by everyone from Rice down to the young tweeny, she rounded on her husband and informed him indignantly, "I will never forgive you for that, Kevin Sylvester Rawlings.
Never!
"

Smiling broadly, and looking at his ease for the first time since he had discovered his wife was missing, he told her amiably, "I don't doubt that a bit, brat. Yet, considering the amount of satisfaction I derived from the act, I feel it to be but a small price to pay for my forgiveness of you. You see, Gilly, I find that I'm no longer the least bit angry. In fact, I do believe I'll go out riding. Do you care to join me?" he asked her as she could not resist rubbing at her throbbing posterior. "Ah, no, I suppose not."

He chucked her under her chin, which she immediately turned away from him. "I'm not Jared, Gilly. He's a good man, but more easily broken to bridle. I'm not. Not quite so tame, not quite so good. You might want to remember that the next time you think to dazzle me with your womanly wiles."

Then, a springing lilt in his walk, he mounted the steps and passed through the crowd of servants, who had parted Red-Sea-like before him, awe and admiration on all their slack-jawed faces.

Bernice Roseberry and her pallet returned to their sentry station that night, which was only to be expected. But, although both the dresser and the master of The Hall passed restful nights, the same could not be said for The Hall's mistress, who spent the long hours wavering between schemes designed to wreak a mighty revenge on her husband and possible ploys aimed at making him fall hopelessly in love with her.

#

Kevin was dressed for an early morning ride, having already invited Jared along to help him exercise some hunters in the upper fields. But even the most disinterested observer could see that the Earl's heart wasn't in the project. As he sat slumped at table in the morning room, an untouched plate of kippers growing cold in front of him, Jared thought his old friend to be the picture of Romance Gone Wrong.

"Still by yourself in your cold, lonely bed, old fellow?" Jared asked, reaching for a crusty roll.

From his reclined position Kevin queried nastily, "Still peeking through keyholes, old fellow?"

Lord Storm only smiled as he laced his roll with some honey fresh from The Hall's own bees. "I plead not guilty. I heard it from my man Harrow, who had it from Willie, who overheard Miss Roseberry, who was speaking with—oh, you know the way of it belowstairs, Kevin. I doubt I need go on."

"No, indeed," Kevin replied with the ghost of a smile. "Perhaps I should ask Hattie Kemp if I slept well, or if I kept all the servants awake, what with my weeping and gnashing of teeth and all such sundry turmoil."

His friend laughed at this sally but then turned serious. "Things aren't going too well, are they Kevin? But, then, you didn't really think that spanking would blow over in a puff of smoke, did you? I've found it easier to let Mandy think she leads me around by a ring in my nose. I still get what I want, you understand. It's just easier to let her think she's in charge. You know," he went on, changing the subject a bit, "we were all quite concerned when first we read your letter telling of your marriage. I see you don't look surprised. Yes, I imagine you immediately knew Amanda's suggestion we visit you wasn't purely to give her some respite from the twins. But, upon our arrival, we thought the two of you to be getting along quite well."

"Famously. Quite the pair of cooing turtledoves," Kevin cut in sarcastically.

"Playacting, Kevin?" Jared deduced astutely. "Why?

"Ours was a marriage of convenience, remember," Kevin supplied flatly.

"If not even expedience," Jared added, remembering the terms of the Will. "So why the charade?"

Kevin lolled further back in his chair, raising the two front legs off the floor. "Amanda," was all he said.

"Amanda? What on earth? Oh-ho! I understand now.
Amanda.
Of course! If she had sniffed even a scent of something amiss, she'd have had no rest—and neither would you—until she'd come up with a scheme to make you and Gilly fall upon each other's necks, pledging love everlasting." Jared shook his head in mock terror. "Gad, man, I can't blame you for trying to put us on. But if I know my wife, and I think I do, she'll have ferreted out the truth from Gilly by now, and you, my dear boy, are in for a veritable siege."

"I know, I know." Wiping his hands on his napkin, Kevin sighed self pityingly. "And I am open to suggestions. What think you—a midnight escape to London? Or perhaps I should buy back my commission and return to the sea? God knows I'd rather face Boney's sailors than your matchmaking wife."

Jared, having finished a hearty breakfast (much to the disgust of Kevin, who had not been able to force a single bite past his own lips), lit a cheroot and leaned back at his ease. "This disenchantment—is it both mutual and total?"

The conversation had already gone further than Kevin liked. Had he any say in the matter, it would not have taken place at all. Jared was much too astute. "I admit to being fond of the child," he admitted at last.

"Fond of her!" Jared exploded. "What a bag of moonshine. Your eyes follow her everywhere."

"Of course they do," Kevin countered. "I wish to see what trouble she'll land herself in next, and most probably me along with her. You have no conception of the power to disrupt that is harbored inside that one small girl."

Jared's eyes narrowed as he assessed his friend. "Then the girl is repugnant to your finer instincts?"

"Don't see why. Ain't as if she's toad-faced. Not hump-backed either. Pretty, actually. Why don't you like her Kevin? I do. We all do. Ain't that right, Jared? We do, don't we?"

"Oh, good grief," Kevin groaned theatrically as Bo, his cherub's face screwed up into an attitude of bewilderment, stood in the doorway of the morning room. "This is all it needed to make the farce complete. Come in, my friend, take a seat why don't you, and if you please—and I'm convinced you will—join Jared here in lecturing me on the ins and outs of peaceful marital coexistence. It seems only fair, after all. I do recall you and I badgering Jared when it looked like the only result of his marriage was to send the poor fellow into a sad decline."

"Kevin," cut in Jared pleasantly.

"Umm?"

"Shut up."

Bo looked from one friend to the other. Deciding that a third person, a referee of sorts, might be a welcome addition to the assemblage, he then sat down, reaching for a roll and the honey pot.

For a few minutes Kevin and Jared sat quietly as, even years into their acquaintanceship with Bo Chevington, the seeming ease with which the man disposed of enormous quantities of foodstuffs without ever giving the appearance of gluttony never ceased to amaze them.

Once Bo's appetite, no paltry thing, was appeased, Jared suggested a way to heal the breach between Lord and Lady Lockport. "Arouse her romantic soul, Kevin. All women have one."

"Do you suggest I should compose odes to her charms?" sneered Kevin. "She'd laugh me clear out of Sussex. The chit has been running hot and cold ever since I met her. I'll be damned if I'll pledge affection to the brat and make a complete cake of myself when she tells me to peddle my poems elsewhere."