Wicked (20 page)

Lucas sighed. “Veronica, let me be very clear. James is not infatuated with Miss Ralston, nor is he infatuated with
you
.”

“That’s not what you told me the other day.”

“You were correct: I was lying.”

“So? It doesn’t mean he couldn’t become smitten.”

Lucas sighed again. Where James was concerned, the stupid girl seemed deaf and blind. How could he make her listen?

“James and I only stopped by for a brief visit at Summerfield before we travel on to London,” he tersely said. “The minute Stanley returns, we’re leaving.”

“James can’t leave! Not until affairs between him and me are settled.”

He studied her, wondering if she wasn’t a tiny bit mad.

Her obsession had him worrying about James. It wasn’t a good idea for James to remain at the estate. With her so adamantly plotting, she might instigate any kind of mischief, and Lucas liked James too much to let him be trapped by her. He liked
any
man in the world too much to let it occur.

He wondered too about James and Miss Ralston. Was James flirting with Miss Ralston? Were they dashing off into the bushes when no one was looking?

If so, it was another recipe for disaster, and Lucas was determined that nothing bad happen to his friend. At the earliest opportunity, Lucas would hightail it to London—and he’d force James to accompany him.

He pushed himself to his feet and placed his glass on a nearby table.

“You have to go home,” he firmly stated. “Now.”

“You’re not my father, Lucas. You can’t order me around.”

“No, I’m not your father, but I’d be happy to take a switch to you.”

“Horse’s ass,” she muttered.

“Yes, it’s my best quality.”

He gestured to the door, but she didn’t move. She simply sipped her brandy, her expression mulishly insolent.

He stomped over, seized her drink, and tossed it on the floor. The glass landed on the rug with a muted thud, the amber liquid spilling everywhere.

“You can’t just take it from me like that,” she seethed.

“I already have.”

He yanked her up and dragged her to the French windows, shoving her out onto the verandah.

He probably should have offered to drive her to the rectory, but the stable boys were in bed, and he wasn’t about to rattle about in the barn, trying to find a harness and a horse. Nor would he walk with her, for he wasn’t about to be caught alone with her in the dark.

She’d gotten to Summerfield on her own. She could slither to the vicarage the same way.

“If you show up over here again like this,” he warned, “I’ll speak to your stepfather. I’m sure he’d be curious about your antics.”

“If you say anything, I’ll make you so sorry.”

“Sticks and stones, Veronica. Sticks and stones.”

He closed the door in her face, and he stood, arms crossed, stoically barring any reentrance. He watched her as she fumed and fussed and glared.

She wasn’t quite so pretty when she was angry, and Lord help the poor fellow who ended up shackled to her. Her temper was exhausting.

They engaged in a staring match she could never win, and finally, she spat, “Bastard.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She stormed away.

For a long while, he stayed where he was, on guard in case she came back. Eventually, when it seemed she’d truly gone, he spun away.

He might have had another drink, but he was so aggravated by the encounter that he’d lost interest. He blew out the lamp, and as he proceeded to his own bed, he was assessing the arguments he’d use to persuade James that they had to leave immediately.

* * * *

Stanley gazed through the peephole in the secret stairwell outside Miss Ralston’s bedchamber. It was very late, and no one knew he’d returned home. He’d ridden in quietly, without announcing his presence.

He’d been away for several days, having run out of ideas as to how he could cajole James into remaining at Summerfield.

The boy was very stubborn. Once he made up his mind, it was incredibly difficult to change it. He’d backed out of his bargain with Stanley, had planned to head for London, and Stanley would have employed any ruse to prevent his departure.

After Miss Ralston’s virginity was squandered, after she was increasing with Stanley’s heir, James could do whatever he liked. But until that situation was achieved, Stanley would have his way. He always did.

As he’d hoped, his absence had brought about the precise conclusion he’d sought. James and Miss Ralston were lying on her bed. Obviously, some type of limited sexual act had occurred, but Stanley had missed it.

They were talking, and Miss Ralston’s gown was unbuttoned, her breasts bared, but Stanley’s view was blocked so he’d only managed a quick glimpse.

He pressed a hand to his crotch, desperate for his cock to stir, but it was flaccid, dead as a piece of rotten meat.

When he wed her, he would make her disrobe for him, would make her strut about without her clothes. He would suckle her taut nipples and touch her between her legs. Even though he couldn’t be physically aroused by her, he could and would enjoy looking and feeling.

Ultimately, he would sample every gift she could possibly bestow.

On the bed, she and James were murmuring their goodbyes. They were kissing, smiling. James rose, and she did too. She accompanied him to the dressing room, the rear door leading directly to the spot where Stanley was lurking. He crept away, his salacious spying over for the evening.

But there would be other nights. Other opportunities.

He grinned and gleefully rubbed his palms together. The entire affair was working out exactly as he’d intended, and it was just a matter of time before he received everything he’d ever wanted.

James would give it to him. In the end, James wouldn’t be able to resist.

“Let’s head for London in the morning.”

“What?”

James was in the front parlor, staring out the window and completely distracted by the sight of Rose out in the driveway. They’d had another supper party, a smaller one, and she was waving goodbye to a female acquaintance.

They’d passed a day filled with so many entertainments that he was starting to feel like a rich, indolent dandy. With his having spent the prior decade in the army, he couldn’t remember when he’d ever had so much free time. He could definitely get used to such idleness and frivolity—if Rose was present.

He thought he might be in deep, deep trouble. He thought he should run away and never look back.

“James!”

“What?”

“Are you listening?”

James yanked his gaze from the window and glared at Lucas.

“Yes, I’m listening.”

“What did I say?”

He tried to recollect, but couldn’t. “I have no idea. You prattle on constantly. How is a man to keep track?”

“I want to leave tomorrow.”

“Why? There’s no hurry. You said yourself you’d be hounded by creditors in town.”

Lucas stood and came over to the sofa where James was meticulously watching Rose. As he saw what had James so transfixed, he snorted with disgust.

“Veronica was right,” he chided as he stomped back to his chair.

“Right about what?” James asked. “What are you talking about?”

“She told me you were having an affair with Miss Ralston.”

James’s heart literally skipped a beat. “And you believed her?”

“No, but obviously, I should have.”

“Veronica isn’t smart enough to guess my business.”

Lucas was undeterred. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Nothing. Veronica is a nuisance, and I’m aggravated that you’d chat about me with her.”

“James, how long have I known you?”

“Twenty years or so. Why?”

“Don’t lie to me! You can’t. You shouldn’t even try.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Oh, please,” Lucas jeered. “Shut up. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Miss Ralston is here to marry Stanley.”

“Yes, she is—as you seem to be conveniently forgetting.”

“If you imagine I would actually—”

“Are you fucking her?” Lucas crudely hissed.

“No.”

“Do you think I’m stupid or what?”

“Of course not.”

“Then tell me what’s happening. Tell me this instant and don’t omit any pertinent details.”

James scoffed. “For a moment there, you sounded just like your father.”

“Leave the old codger out of it.”

“You’re not in any position to lecture me, Lucas.”

“Somebody should.”

“Well, it won’t be you, so bugger off.”

An angry silence festered, when suddenly, Stanley bustled in.

He’d ridden in late the previous evening, had been sitting at the breakfast table when James had come down that morning. On seeing him, James had bristled with irritation. If Stanley had returned, there was no reason for James to tarry.

He and Lucas should depart at once, but the notion disturbed James in ways he couldn’t bear to contemplate.

“The last carriage has pulled away,” Stanley said as he marched over to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy. “I’ll be glad when all these introductions are over.” He paused, waiting for one of them to chime in. When they didn’t, he muttered, “I hate socializing.”

Still, James and Lucas didn’t retort.

“What’s wrong?” Stanley asked. “Are you two fighting?”

“No,” James said as Lucas said, “Yes.”

Stanley had always believed Lucas over James, and he honed in on Lucas. “What’s the matter?”

“I want to leave for London,” Lucas explained. “James doesn’t.”

“Why rush off?” Stanley pasted on a magnanimous smile. “I’m delighted to have you boys home. Stay as long as you like. I don’t mind. Really.”

He shifted his gaze to James, his eyes gleaming with an almost religious zeal that left James uneasy.

“I’m not ready to go,” James informed him.

“Wonderful,” Stanley beamed. “So it’s settled. Let’s put your quarrel aside and enjoy our drinks.”

But Lucas couldn’t let it rest. “I’m worried about Veronica.”

Stanley smirked. “Aren’t we all?”

“She’s obsessed with James.”

“Obsessed over what?” Stanley inquired.

“She’s convinced he’s about to propose.”

James snapped, “Only because
you
told her I was smitten.”

“You what?” Stanley barked. “Lucas, why must you behave like such an idiot?”

“It was a joke,” Lucas contended, “but joke or not, she insists she’s meant to wed James—as if it’s some sort of destiny.”

“The only
destiny
she has,” Stanley sneered, “is to get herself in trouble with some farmer. When she does, her stepfather will teach her a few life lessons—such as how horrid it is to be a farmer’s wife.”

“You’re underestimating her,” Lucas persisted. “She can be so devious. I could see her ensnaring James with some ruse.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” James protested. “I told you she’s not smart enough.”

“What if you’re mistaken?” Lucas pressed. “What if she traps you?”

“She won’t,” James grumbled. “She couldn’t. I’d never place myself in a dangerous situation with her. I know better—as opposed to some people I could name.”

James glowered, and Lucas ignored him.

“I don’t necessarily suppose
you
would have to do anything,” Lucas pointed out. “She could spew any lie to the vicar, and you’d be ruined.”

Stanley waved a hand, cutting off Lucas’s complaints.

“There’s no reason to fret over Veronica,” Stanley declared. “I won’t invite her to my suppers. If she’s not here, she can’t engage in mischief.”

“She sneaks over anyway,” Lucas said.

“Then if she dares,” Stanley replied, “I’ll throw her in a carriage and drive her to the rectory myself. I’ll share some choice words with my brother, and he’ll put an end to it.”

“She’s deranged,” Lucas asserted. “It won’t help to speak with the vicar.”

“It
will
,” Stanley countered as he gulped down his brandy. “I’ve had a long week, and I’m for bed. How about you boys? Don’t sit down here fighting.”

“We won’t,” James agreed, but he suspected they would. Lucas had never been so worked up over any topic.

“Goodnight then,” Stanley said, and he left.

Lucas and James listened as his footsteps faded down the hall, then Lucas went over and closed the door.

“Last chance,” he warned as he seated himself again.

“Last chance to what?” James asked.

“To tell me the truth. If I don’t understand what’s occurring, I can’t guard your back. I can’t protect you when it all crashes down.”

“Nothing will
crash
down. Stop worrying.”

Lucas sipped his drink, staring, staring. Finally, he mused, “There’s a curious aspect I’ve never fathomed about Miss Ralston’s betrothal to Stanley.”

“What’s that?”

“You and I used to laugh over the rumor that Stanley is impotent.”

“We did,” James cautiously responded.

“Yet you don’t seem to find it odd that he’s about to marry so he can sire an heir.”

“No, I don’t find it odd. He’s very vain, and he views himself as some sort of god. If he’s had difficulty fornicating in the past, he’s probably persuaded himself that he can order his body to perform as required.”

“You loathe him. You loathe Summerfield. Veronica is nipping at your heels, desperate to draw you into a mess, but wild horses can’t drag you away.”

“Give me another week or two. I’ll be ready then.”

“Why aren’t you ready now?”

“I’m just not.”

There was a deadly silence, then very quietly, Lucas said, “Has he asked you to seduce her? Is that it? Is he paying you? Is he blackmailing you? What?”

James’s shoulders sagged, his irritation waning. Lucas was the brother he’d never had, the brother he’d always wanted. He hated to bicker with him and had never been able to lie to him.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” James claimed.

“What is it then?”

“I simply like her.”

“Miss Ralston.”

“Yes.”

“As a friend.”

“Yes.”

“So…what is your plan? Are you some kind of troubadour from the Middle Ages? Will you pull out your lute and begin composing love ballads? Somehow, I can’t picture you behaving that way.”