Wildfire Kiss (21 page)

She had not planned on inviting him until her
brother’s friend Banbridge asked her to, and she found herself
without a reason to refuse—in fact, she was rather obligated to
include him, since Babs had accepted him.

Now here he was, staring at her poor niece and
making her dashed uncomfortable. She wouldn’t have it. The girl was
a trial, yes, but a dear creature whom she loved, and she would not
have her badgered by the man. Babs didn’t want him, and Jane meant
to put a halt to it. First, however, she would have to find out
just how he had forced her niece into this position.

At least she had had the forethought to seat Otto
beside her niece. The count always seemed to be able to make her
laugh.

***

Otto was at that moment leaning into Babs and
telling her jovially, “Prinny was only just saying the other night
that this author, the one that wrote that outrageous novel, had
made himself immortal. Said he preferred it over every other Gothic
he had ever read and means to discover who the author is so that he
may thank him personally.”

“Really,” returned Babs, who though she might stop
breathing. “I have always preferred the works of a man like Walter
Scott.”

“You are no doubt referring to
Marmion
, which
has always held a special fascination for me.” Sir Edward directed
his next words to the woman seated beside him, rather than across
the table. “The notion of a knight riding hard to take up his
intended bride and escape with her under the noses of all her
family is most …” He looked at Babs. “ … exciting.”

Otto waved this off and took another helping of
potatoes. “Indeed … how dare they try and marry his bride off
to someone else. I loved the way Scott handled that piece.”

“Tyson,” cut in Corry, changing the subject, “has
been training his beagles, you know. When Sir Frederick and I took
a stroll this morning along the beach, we came upon him. They seem
to be coming along nicely.”

“Bah!” the count declared. “Beagles. What are they
next to the fox-hunting hounds? What could compare to fox
hunting?”

“Stag hunting,” answered Sir Edward.

“Dreadful … stag hunting,” Babs snapped. “They
run a straight line and therefore don’t stand a chance …”

“Absurd child, what makes fox hunting acceptable?”
Sir Edward returned.

“Fox are cunning. They know how to lead the hounds a
merry chase, and they go after the farmers’ chickens. They kill all
of the chickens without eating them … just for fun. Fox
hunters help the farmers, you see, keep things …
even.”

Otto nodded his head vigorously. “Answer that,
Ned!”

“Enough bickering,” said Lady Jane. “This is not fit
conversation for the table. Kill and destroy! Faith.” She shook her
head. “I have heard that the Stael is due to arrive shortly. Is it
true, do you think?”

Babs smiled to herself. Her aunt was savvy and dear
and something else—she was suspicious. Corry was correct: she was a
knowing one. Perhaps, just perhaps she could help her out of this
awful muddle?

Her mind went back to the note she had received in
the late afternoon from the duke. She had read and reread it so
many times, she knew it by heart.

Dearest Babs,

Sir Charles drags me to London though it is my
inclination to remain here with you just now.

My love, trust me and don’t do anything foolish.
Only wait for my return to set things right … for I shall.
Trust me.

Nick

She found she did trust him, without any doubt
whatsoever, but what did he mean, ‘don’t do anything foolish’? Did
he know …? He couldn’t know why she had accepted Sir Edward’s
suit—could he?

Even if he knew, there was nothing he could do. She
was the only one who could see herself out of this muddle. She had
nearly made up her mind that she would take her sad story to the
Prince …

Her thoughts had taken her away as dinner ended and
everyone rose from the table. The men were on their way to the
library. She found Corry’s hand, but just as Corry led her away to
the sitting room with the ladies, Sir Edwards stalled her with a
touch.

She jerked away from him.

He eyed her angrily. “I am not some kind of
monster …” he said on a low note meant only for her.

Corry heard him and snapped, “Yes, you are.”

His brows shot up, evidently surprised that his
intended had confided all to her cousin. He inclined his head,
smirked, and left them to each other while he cooled his heels with
the gentlemen in the other chamber.

“You will not marry him,” Corry said.

“No …” agreed Lady Jane, coming out of nowhere
and making both girls spin around to stare. “I quite agree. You
shan’t marry him. When you are ready, come to me, darling girl, and
tell me what awful thing you have done that he knows about and is
using against you. We shall see what we will do with that
together.”

Lady Jane did not wait for a reply but rushed off,
lightly jesting with one of the ladies as she went. Babs turned to
Corry to say on a hushed note, “This is all a nightmare …”

“We shall do, only confess it all to our
aunt …” Corry encouraged.

“Why? What can she do?”

“I don’t know, but I do know Aunt Jane,” said Corry,
staunch on this point.

“Well, I have a little time yet before he will want
to make the announcement. It was our deal, and perhaps …
perhaps something will suggest itself to me soon …” Babs said,
thinking that she had no other choice but to visit with the Prince,
and this she would have to plan out in secret.

***

Sir Edward was steeped in obsession. He knew it and
couldn’t stop himself. Winning had become everything, and the only
way he would win was to have Babs as his wife. He couldn’t see
beyond that, didn’t wish to see beyond that.

He became absorbed with the machinations to achieve
his objective. He had experienced only a moment when he paused as
he saw himself in the long glass and wondered what he was doing. He
could not admit to any real tenderness of feeling for Babs, and
yet, he wanted her, believed what he did feel was love. He shrugged
his doubts off.

He had gone too far down the road and meant to see
it to its end. No turning around—no backtracking for him.

He traveled the short distance to Hove and obtained
a special marriage license. Babs was of age, and he had anticipated
no problem when he listed her name. This done, he had found
himself, in the same town, a minister of nondescript ethics and
prepaid the man for his services. He then went to the circulating
library and took up a book on potions and drugs, for a very real
possibility suggested that Babs might have to be tranquilized
throughout these planned proceedings.

That left only one last step to complete.

He had to get hold of Babs and have her away for
some hours before their movements would be detected and perhaps
tracked.

This would be most difficult and tricky, and he gave
it some serious thought. He would have to eliminate Miss Bretton,
who was in Babs’ confidence. She was a serious threat to his plans,
for she was no fool.

Right then, one must first dispose of Miss
Bretton …

A slow, wicked smile spread his lips as he lit on a
plan.

Twenty-one

THE MORNING LOOKED gray with a threat of rain, as
the early hour mist had not yet dissipated. Sir Frederick winced as
he squeezed into his pale yellow waistcoat and then again when he
pulled on his light blue superfine short-tailed coat. He turned to
the long, gilt-edged mirror and frowned, not satisfied with the
picture he presented.

He was not, however, going to go through the
discomfort of changing … though he wondered if Corry would
like how he looked. No matter—he would allow her to take charge of
his wardrobe when they were married. The thought of her as his wife
made him grin like a fool and then sigh with sweet
anticipation.

A knock sounded at his door, and a moment later his
valet appeared with a silver tray extended to him. Sir Frederick
eyed the ivory envelope with some puzzlement but took it and told
his man to take in some leisure time for himself as he planned to
go out soon.

He broke the seal and unfolded the note to read:

Dearest Frederick,

Something dreadful has happened. We need you. Come
at once to the Lewes Inn, just outside of Lewes … by noon. Do
not fail us.

Corrine

He reread this note and frowned again. He did not
recognize the hand … but then, he had not seen enough of
Corry’s pen to know it yet. She’d called him Frederick … she
rarely called him Frederick … it was always, Freddy … or
sweet love … or …

Why the devil had they gone off to Lewes?

What was in Lewes? Something was havey-cavey about
all this … and yet, he could not do anything but go to Lewes
and discover what the trouble was. It was all so odd, as he was
supposed to have taken his beloved to meet his uncle for lunch. Now
he would have to send a note round saying something unexpected had
come up.

It felt off …

And Lewes? Of all the outlandish places!

However, Sir Frederick lost no time in his
preparations to leave. His beloved needed him. He wondered whatever
for …

***

At that particular moment, and just as Freddy was
calling for his coach, now repaired and ready for use, his beloved
Corry was opening an envelope marked ‘confidential’.

She stared at it doubtfully for a moment before
opening it to read:

Dearest Corrine,

As it happens, something is afoot in Lewes. You must
meet me at once at the Lewes Inn, just before you reach the village
on the village road, and tell no one where you are going.

I fear for your cousin in this matter. Hurry to me,
my love, so that we may avert a scandal.

Your servant always,

Frederick

Corry stared at the wording.

She did not yet know Freddy’s hand, but she fancied
she knew Freddy’s style, and this was far from it. And why so
formal—‘Your servant, Frederick’?
How odd.
Their intimacy
had progressed past such things.

She had seen Babs leave just moments ago and had
tried to make her wait so that she could join her, but Babs had
said she needed to take a walk alone. Was that what she was doing?
What was Babs up to?

It was this circumstance that worried her, coupled
now with the note …

There was nothing for it. Lewes was not so very far
away; she would ride out immediately on horseback!

***

When Sir Edward had penned his notes, he had been
wise enough to muse at length over the wording. He would have to
say nothing, yet enough to make each recipient do as he wished and
leave straightaway without stopping to think.

He was most concerned about Miss Bretton.

She was a practical young woman who would not move
impulsively. However, her concern for her cousin should drive her
forward and into his web.

He would have Sir Frederick and Miss Bretton to the
north, while Babs would rush off, as he had instructed, to meet him
in the southwest. How perfectly satisfying.

His letter delivered to Lady Babs early that morning
had informed her that he was willing to discuss a delay in their
marriage plans if she would meet him and allow him to plead a case
for his continued courtship. He knew Babs would do anything he
asked to accomplish this. She wouldn’t suspect anything nefarious,
as she believed he was willing to wait and publish the banns and
marry her with all the world in attendance. He had told her often
enough that was his fondest wish. Well, he would forgo that.

Damn, but he was ever so brilliant.

He would school the chit and teach her to please
him. She was, after all, only a female, and in the end she would
adhere to her husband’s wishes.

He took up his riding gloves, his top hat, and his
crop and made his way across the room. He had hired a coach for
this expedition, as he did not want Babs seen climbing into his
carriage.
That wouldn’t do.
He needed to get away cleanly
and have a few hours lead before anyone was the wiser.

He didn’t want his coat of arms noticed, and hence
the hired coach. He didn’t need any eyebrows raised, and he didn’t
want any undue attention until he was well away from Brighton.
Things were coming together nicely, very nicely indeed!

***

The duke looked at Sir Charles and grinned. “Well,
and when I tell you next time that you and the Home Office are out,
perhaps you will believe me.”

“Don’t be so smug! We couldn’t very well ignore a
viable threat on Prinny’s life, now could we?”

“Of course not, but then, it did not really require
‘all the kings’ horses and all the kings’ men’, in attendance. It
was a simply a hoax,” the duke said with a sigh.

“Under ordinary circumstances, you would not have
been put into such a pet over this business.”

“No? Then perhaps you will admit that these are not
ordinary circumstances.”

“Are they not?” Charles gave him a curious glance.
“Why not? Your inclination to espionage and intrigue has always
made you jump at the chance to solve—”

“This was not espionage,” snapped the duke.

“Why are you so irritated?” Sir Charles asked
bluntly.

“Babs—I have left her in the lurch. She is in some
sort of trouble … and I should have been there to see her
though it.”

“Tell me, Nick, what do you mean by her?” Sir
Charles asked gravely.

“What do I mean by her? I mean to lay my heart at
her feet and hope fervently that she doesn’t stomp on it.” The duke
laughed without mirth.

“Then you mean to propose …?” Sir Charles was
astounded.

“I mean to find out what this secret engagement is
to Ned … Don’t really like the fellow, but I can’t imagine how
he can have induced her to accept his suit unless she was willing,
and I have to wonder if I am mistaken in her.”