The Prince of Ravenscar (36 page)

“It can't hurt. I suppose all of us could take turns with him. But first I think Roxanne should see him. What he did to her, what she did to him, mayhap simply seeing her will trigger his memory. We'll give him another hour of sleep.”

W
hen Roxanne stood over Orvald Manners, she didn't think he looked particularly brutish. Indeed, he looked quite benign, lying there, light little snorts ruffling the air. The top of his head was bald, and the hair he did have was a mix of gray and brown. His skin was leathery from time spent in the sun. Well, he had been aboard Julian's ship. He was perhaps forty years old.

“He looks harmless, doesn't he?”

She touched her fingers to her clean hair, her scalp still tingly from Tansy's famous head rub. “You know, Leah will find out about this; something this fascinating always gets out.” She lightly slapped Manners's face. “Well, wake up, you sot, it's time to face me.”

He moaned, finally opening his eyes to stare up at her.

“Would ye looks at all that beauteous 'air, purtier than any bloomin' peacock's feathers. Where'd ye get 'air like that, little girl?”

“From my mother, who was a powerful witch. She taught me, her witch daughter, how to blight evil men, such as yourself. My name is Roxanne Radcliffe.”

“That's a powerful fancy name ye gots there; sounds kinda uppity.”

“It is fine alliteration. It isn't uppity at all; what it has is style.”

“Be ye really a witch wot curses off men's parts?”

“Yes. You, in particular, should be worried.”

“Why? I ain't done nuthin' to ye.” He frowned. “Well, 'as I?”

Roxanne told him exactly what he'd done to her. “You smashed this sweet-smelling cloth over my mouth, then once I was unconscious, you took me to this ancient old barn; you were told to take me there by the man who hired you to kidnap me. You were going to rape me.” Manners listened with an air of great concentration. Toward the end of it, despite the fact that Manners kept his face perfectly blank, as if she were reciting a wild tale to him, Roxanne realized there was a good deal of cunning behind his eyes. She paused for a moment, sighed, leaned close to his face, whispered, “Do you know, sir, you didn't have to rape me. You scared me, and that is why I kicked you. But then I realized I acted too swiftly. I realized I quite fancied you, your wit, your charm, and wondered—” She paused, gave a delicate shudder.

“Ye really wanted me? Then why'd ye kick me in me privates? An' then ye coshed me on the 'ead. Why?”

“I told you, you frightened me. I am a lady, sir. You didn't have any finesse.”

“I 'as this finesse—wot's finesse?”

She smiled at him.

“I didn't think ye wanted me. Ye were acting wild and yellin' at me. I'll tells ye, purty 'un, it fair to locked my chops I wanted ye so much. Why, I remember—”

“Yes, Mr. Manners?”

His brain overcame his remembered lust. “Well, beat me on me noggin for bein' an idjut.”

Roxanne pulled a pistol from her pocket and laid the muzzle against his unshaven cheek. “Yes, you are indeed an idiot. Now, you will tell me who hired you to kidnap me or I will shoot your head off.”

“But ye said ye wanted me—”

“I lied.”

“Yer a lady; a lady don't lie and she don't shoot men in their cheek, leastwise not the cheek that resides on their faces.”

“Don't you remember, Mr. Manners? I kicked you in your groin, I struck you twice on your head with the plowshare. I will shoot you twice, to make certain you will never bedevil anyone again, if you don't tell me the truth. Now, who hired you?”

“Awright! It were the 'igh-an'-mighty king!”

“King William hired you to kidnap me?”

“No, no, I meant it were the prince. No one goes against the prince and lives to tell about it.”

“I see. So Lord Julian Monroe, the Prince of Ravenscar, hired you to kidnap me?”

“Aye, it were, the prince be a downy one, none disobeys him, ever, iffen they wants to keep their 'earts beatin' in their chests.” Manners grabbed his hair in his fists and pulled. “Ah, me bleedin' 'ead, I fair to feel like pukin' up me guts.”

Manners had the gall to throw up. At least he missed her slippers.

Roxanne, Sophie, Devlin, and Julian left poor Tom to deal with him. They stepped outside and listened to Manners alternately vomit and groan.

“He'd better not dare go unconscious again,” Sophie said, and shook her fist in his direction. “Poor Tom, having to hold the chamber pot for him.”

“I don't suppose you hired Manners, Julian? For some nefarious reason that eludes me? You are the only prince I know.”

“He isn't altogether stupid,” Julian said slowly. “I wonder if he's used this ploy before?”

When the sounds of vomiting stopped, they all trooped back into the small room. It smelled vile. Tom raised the single small window, fanned the air with his coat.

Orvald Manners turned his face to the wall and refused to say any more.

Julian said, “Let's leave him be for a while. Tom, tie him down to the bed, so he won't be able to do anything, save think about his long list of sins.”

Tom set to work with a good deal of relish.

Roxanne said, “To accuse you, Julian, it makes me quite froth at the mouth.”

Devlin patted Roxanne's cheek. “It makes me froth more. Calm yourself; Manners will come around, once we make it perfectly clear Julian will send him to Botany Bay if he doesn't tell us the truth.”

“Botany Bay?” Julian's eyebrow shot up. “I fancy that is a believable threat, Devlin. I can contact a naval captain I know. He can tell me what to do, give me specifics to scare the sin out of him.”

“Would you really send him there?”

“Oh, yes, Sophie. At the very least, we wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. But he'll talk, then we'll see.”

J
ulian looked up when Pouffer cleared his throat.

“Yes, Pouffer? What is it?”

“It is Lady Merrick, Prince. She is in the drawing room. She brought several valises with her, and her maid, who smiled at me until Lady Merrick saw her smiling, and I tell you, it fell right off her face, poor lass.”

“What?” Roxanne was on her feet. “Leah is here? But—”

“That's quite all right, Roxanne,” Corinne said, as she allowed August, a footman more slight than she, to help her to rise, something she was perfectly capable of doing all by herself, but it seemed it was a sacred requirement of both her and August. “Shall we take a vote? Who would like me to clout Leah?”

“I vote yes. Clout her,” Sophie said.

Julian tossed down his napkin. “No, Mother, not you. If there's any clouting to be done, I shall see to it. Everyone continue with luncheon.”

But no one ate another bite. All rose silently and followed Julian to the drawing room, where Leah, dressed in a dark blue traveling gown, a clever bonnet set atop her blond hair, stood by the fireplace, holding a beaded reticule in her white hands, staring up at Julian's father's portrait.

“Leah, what are you doing here?” Roxanne asked. “Have you decided Richard Langworth no longer suits you? What happened to make you come back?”

Leah gave a gay laugh, smiled at all of them, graciousness oozing out of every pore. “Oh, nothing has happened. Richard was forced to go to London to attend to some business, so I decided to return here to rejoin my sister and my niece.” She smiled. “You are both looking quite well, as are you, your grace. If I may impose on your kindness yet again, I should be very grateful if you would let me stay with you until Richard returns to Hardcross Manor.” Her words wafted through the warm air, embracing all of them.

Before Corinne could open her mouth, Julian said, “Did Richard go to London to hire another thug to abduct your sister, since Orvald Manners failed so spectacularly?”

Leah splayed her hands and looked at them sadly. “You know Richard was distraught when you told us about Roxanne being kidnapped. As was I. Both of us are vastly relieved she is back safely. Richard told me he quite liked Roxanne, and it smote him that you thought he'd done such a thing. He is hoping that man, Manners, regains consciousness so he can clear his name.” She turned to Roxanne. “My dear, I do hope you are recovered. What a dreadful experience for you.”

Roxanne thought,
Why are you really here, Leah? Do you want to try to discover more of our plans, and inform Richard? Don't you realize no one in this house would even tell you if it was going to rain? Not anymore.

Then it hit her.
No, it's about Manners, isn't it, Leah? You're afraid what he'll say if he comes around. You want to warn Richard if he does. You'll never know he already has regained consciousness.

“Yes,” Roxanne said pleasantly, “dreadful.”

Corinne saw no hope for it. She cleared her throat. “I hope you will enjoy this stay more than your last one. How long does Richard plan to be gone? A week? Two, perhaps?”

“Oh, I quite enjoyed my last visit, your grace. It was Richard, you see. He is so bitterly unhappy with you, Julian. But Roxanne's kidnapping, that concerns him greatly. A week? I don't know, your grace. Such a charming house this is. A palace it's called hereabouts, isn't it?”

Leah continued to charm, to spread gaiety around, and she laughed whenever any of the party said something even mildly amusing.

Later, when Roxanne offered to escort her to her bedchamber, not a single insult slithered out of her mouth. Roxanne lightly laid her hand on Leah's arm. She had to know the depths of her sister's treachery, and she knew how to do it. “A moment. I am worried, Leah, I will admit it to you. You are my sister, you have my best interests at heart. This man, Manners, he woke up a while ago. He wants to kidnap me again, Leah, he said he had a taste for me now. He says the prince hired him. That cannot be true, you know it cannot. I don't know what to do.”

Leah, eyes bright, squeezed her hand. “The prince? Why don't we go speak to Manners together, Roxanne? I can be very persuasive. I don't wish you to be afraid anymore. He is only a bad man, and bad men can be dealt with. Now, where is this creature?”

Roxanne led her down the long corridor to the small sewing room. She nodded to Tom, who was sitting on a chair, a cup of tea balanced on his knee. “Please leave us, Tom. It will be fine.”

“Excuse me, Miss Roxanne, but the prince said it was all right for you to be here? With that foul sot?”

“The prince said a lady's touch might be the thing,” Leah said easily.

Once Tom was gone, Leah said, “It smells dreadful in here.”

“Not nearly as bad as it did.” Roxanne looked down at Manners, who, at the sound of Leah's voice, slowly opened his eyes. “Another beautiful angel wot's come to flutter 'er wings about me.”

Leah said nothing at all. She leaned over Manners, studied him for a moment, then slapped him hard.

Manners gasped, then said, sputtering, “But why'd ye do that fer? I ain't niver done anything to ye!”

Leah leaned close. “You smell vile. You are vile, I doubt not. Now tell me who hired you to kidnap Roxanne.”

Roxanne couldn't move. What would Manners say? What would Leah do?

“It were the prince, I already told the red-'eaded witch wot's standing right aside ye that it were the prince wot paid me the groats.”

Leah straightened. “I don't know, Roxanne. There is defeat in his voice, but if it is the prince—what a ridiculous appellation that is—listen, Julian Monroe is nothing more than a merchant, running his string of ships, doing accounts, like any clerk. He may be the son of a duke, but he has the heart of a merchant.” She eyed her sister and leaned down again over Manners. “No, it is not the prince. I am sick of your lies, you filthy varmint. The prince wants her, he wouldn't have someone do away with her, unless—” Leah broke off, looked over her shoulder at Roxanne. “Did something happen between you and the prince? I know you seduced him. Is he now refusing to marry you?”

“No, he isn't refusing to marry me,” Roxanne said. “We really haven't discussed it, you know.”

“Are you pregnant?”

“No.”
What would happen,
Roxanne thought dispassionately,
if I slapped her, as she did Manners? She still thinks Julian wants me and I want him?

“Ye shut yer chops, missis, that ain't a nice thing to say to the little witch. Actually, ye said a whole lot of not nice things to 'er.” He stopped cold, reevaluated, then gave them both a toothy grin. “Aye, 'twere the prince, 'e don't want ye in 'is bed anymore, but I'll take ye, make ye scream wit' 'appiness.”