Regency 05 - Intrigue (8 page)

There was also the young baronet to worry about.

Sir Beowulf Brackney was a very disturbed young man and Gideon really did not want to have to deal with that. He was barely a dozen years older than Wolf and his experience with young men Wolf’s age was precisely nothing.

Gideon groaned. The boy was headed for a bad end, he could see. He was too angry, too self-destructive to handle what life was throwing at him. But what could Gideon do to forestall that?

He sat up, his head clearing. Of course! He could take them with him on his duty visit to his family. If anyone could help Wolf through his anger at the cards life had dealt him, it was Samantha. She had far more on her plate than Wolf could ever dream.

And if Malvina was at Moorview Park under his watchful eye, she couldn’t very well get any more unsuspecting young men shot.

Satisfied with his decision, Gideon fell asleep.

His announcement later that night was greeted with surprise, anger, and a certain amount of fear. Wolf shouted that he would not go, Malvina said she couldn’t possibly, and Gideon stated firmly that they were all going even if he had to tie them up and drag them there, kicking and screaming.

“You don’t understand,” insisted Malvina. She cast a worried glance at her son. “Gideon, if I leave, it would look…suspicious.”

Wolf gave her a confused look. “Suspicious?”

“Nothing to concern you, dear,” she responded automatically.

“Oh, I see,” the young man snapped. “Something, no doubt, that I can’t hear because I’m too young to understand.”

“No, Wolf. It is something that will get you killed if you know,” Gideon drawled. “And it has nothing to do with our departure for Yorkshire, I assure you. I owe my family a visit and I should introduce my betrothed to them.”

“What has that to do with me?” demanded the young baronet. “I am not the one marrying you.”

“Thank God for that,” muttered Gideon. “My mother and younger sister would like to meet you, I’m sure. And I really do need to go but I can’t be easy knowing you are here alone.”

“I can protect us,” Wolf stated firmly, angry lines creasing his face. “I am not a complete ninny, you know.”

“I never thought that,” retorted Gideon, his face taking on that lazy expression that heralded a bout of forgetfulness.

“I want to know about your family,” said Malvina. “And we have to discuss your title as well and why you didn’t tell us.”

“My title? I am the third Earl of Holt. I’ve held the title since I was two-and-twenty. My mother is still living, my younger sister is sixteen, my elder sister married several years ago and is happily producing little imps of Satan, and I have a worthless cousin who stands to inherit should, heaven forbid, I die without a son. Anything else you’d like to know?”

Wolf stared at him incredulously. “You’re an earl?” He looked at his mother. “And you didn’t know?”

Malvina frowned at him. “Hush now, Wolf. I’ll talk to you later.” Then, to Gideon, “I have no other questions, my lord.” She rose to her feet. “I will retire now. Wolf, attend me in my rooms.”

The boy rose as well, his face a sullen mask of annoyance. Gideon, annoyed himself, stood, saying, “We leave at first light, my lady. Be ready.”

Malvina fretted and fumed, wearing a path in her chamber floor. This was not going to be easily accepted by
That Man
. She finally decided there was nothing left for it but to try to contact him and let him know. If she did not, she knew he would let just a tiny piece of information slip into the gossip mill and, if not get her hanged, see her socially ruined at least.

A shiver ran down her spine as she stole from her rooms and traversed the empty corridors of the home that had been hers since she was fifteen. The servants had gone to bed, the kitchen deserted. She paused long enough to whip a cloak about her shoulders. It still amazed her how cold it could get at night when just the afternoon before had been almost too warm for comfort. With a note clutched tightly in her hand, Malvina opened the kitchen door and walked out into the night.

Her body froze to the spot. Rain came down in sheets, casting a blurry haze over everything in sight. She could wait, she supposed, hope it cleared up before too long. But the urgency of her errand would not allow it. Ducking her head against the onslaught, she made her way to the stables.

The stables were quiet but she could hear the sounds of talking in the back where the head groom lived and overhead where the stable hands slept. She supposed they had just gone up to bed, since their work took them well into the night.

The head groom was a burly man with a perpetual sneer on his ruddy face. He stood well over six inches taller than Malvina, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for a woman of her stature. He waited by the door with a menacing look on his face. He did not appear happy to see her.

Throwing back her hood, Malvina ignored the cold rain sliding down her neck and drew herself up to her full height. “I assume, Halder, that you can get in touch with your master.” She took his answering grunt as confirmation and handed over her letter. “Take this to him, please. It is urgent.”

He grunted again and took the note, shutting the door in her face.

Malvina stood there for a second, debating the wisdom of what she’d just done. If Gideon found out, he’d assume she was a willing participant in the robberies. He may forget about helping her and just turn her over as the criminal she was. A shudder racked her body, making her pull her cloak tighter. She should not have sent that note, she realized. It was only a matter of time before Gideon found out. How could she possibly explain her actions?

Then there was Wolf. She had tried to explain the circumstances to him without upsetting him or provoking his nasty temper. It hadn’t worked and the most frightening part was that she didn’t know exactly whom his anger was directed at: Gideon for his secretive part in a mystery even she didn’t understand, her part for submitting to a blackmailer, or the man who was daring enough to blackmail her.

She hadn’t wanted to tell Wolf the whole truth but the boy had always had a foul disposition and, quite frankly, at times she was afraid of him. So she’d poured it all out to him including Gideon’s part. Now, shame filled her, shame at feeling such fear that she couldn’t manage to keep the darkness from her child, and shame that with all she’d told him, she neglected to tell him that her feelings for the dishonest earl were becoming far stronger than she could have anticipated. But something had held her back from disclosing this realization and now she had her child’s anger to contend with because he believed she was being put upon by two different importuning men. His loyalty did him credit but his fierce temper was a decided drawback.

Malvina retraced her steps into the house, her thoughts and the drenching rain making her far less observant than was her wont. So it was no wonder, then, that she failed to see the man leaning negligently against the kitchen door, hat pulled low against the rain.

“Where are you bound, Malvina?”

She jumped, heart fluttering against her ribs. “Gideon! Whatever are you about scaring a body like that?”

“If you were not wandering around outside at night with a lunatic band of highwaymen on the loose you would have no need to be frightened,” he remarked. “What were you doing?”

His face remained in shadow and she could detect nothing from his voice. The flutters in her chest became thunder. “I needed a breath of fresh air,” she said, her voice sounding unconvincing to her own ears. She had to remind herself to take a breath and fight the wave of guilt that threatened to color her voice.

“And Halder was helping you breathe?”

Malvina cast a nervous glance in the direction of the stables, but she refrained from turning her head, hoping her companion wouldn’t notice her hesitation. “Halder? What are you implying?”

“Or,” he suggested, “perhaps he knew of the best air to breathe and you were merely asking his advice.”

“No, I—I was merely— He wanted to tell me something and I…”

Her voice trailed off into nothingness as he pushed away from the wall and approached. He loomed over her, his next words deadly level, intensely quiet. “And did the head groom give you his message, Lady Brackney?”

She nodded, her unease not allowing her to answer in any other way. She didn’t dare tell him there was no message, that she was the one sending missives.

“I see. And what was the message, Malvina?”

“I don’t remember,” she told him weakly, desperate to get away before she stupidly revealed her real purpose in wandering the grounds in the rain. “I must go in, Gideon. It is quite chill out here”—she glanced up, blinking against the rain—“and I am tired.”

Gideon stopped her from retreating by simply stepping in front of her every time she tried to go around him. The third time she ignored him, he took her firmly by the shoulders and gave her a little shake.

“Malvina Brackney, you will not walk away from me until you explain yourself. If you continue to fabricate excuses for your presence outside in the middle of the night, I’ll begin to think you are having an affair with a groom.”

Malvina glanced up into his darkened face. “I am not having an affair with a groom,” she soothed. “And I do not appreciate being thought a liar simply because I do not wish to tell you my business. If anyone is a liar,
Gideon Mallory
, it is you!”

He laughed, the unexpected sound sending a shiver over her skin. “My name truly is Gideon Mallory,” he told her. “Well, two of my names.”

Distracted, she asked, “Who are you? I mean, truly? Who sent you to find me? Why are you here?”

He sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. “It is perhaps a bit too wet out here for this discussion, do you not think?”

He ushered her inside and up to the drawing room where a fire smoldered in the grate. Stooping, he worked the embers into a good blaze, speaking as he prodded at the wood.

“I was born in Yorkshire and raised on my father’s estate, Moorview Park. I have an elder sister who married very young—fourteen, I think—so I was essentially the only child until I was eleven. Then Sammy was born.” He stopped working on the fire and rose to his feet, turning at the same time.

Malvina lingered near the door, as if she’d flee at the slightest provocation. He sighed and motioned her to a chair. She sat while he paced the chamber, talking, his mind caught up in bittersweet memories.

“Sammy, Samantha, that is, was a beauty from the day she was born. As she grew older, she was the envy of every young girl in the village of Holt. Even Stokesley had nothing to compare to her beauty. Then father died. Sammy wasn’t even thirteen yet, and I was twenty-two. His death affected us greatly, my mother especially. She became a shell of her former self. In spite of her young age, Sammy has been the one to hold the family together.

“But that really has nothing to do with it. I want you to know what they are like so you are not surprised when we go there. My mother will not like you simply because she hates change and my marriage would be a great change. Sammy loves everybody though she is a bit more… reserved… now.”

He paused, looking back to his past, his brown eyes glowing with what looked like pain. It was quickly gone, however, and Malvina felt that perhaps she’d imagined it.

“My grandfather was the first earl,” he continued suddenly, “having received his title from King George for an undisclosed piece of government work. Even my father didn’t know what it was. I have always wondered myself but all family records make no mention of it.” He shrugged, falling silent.

Malvina had just decided he was done talking when he added, in an offhand manner totally at odds with the import of his words, “Sammy is horribly disfigured. There was a mishap several years ago and her face and hands were badly burned.”

Shock was too mild a word to describe the feeling that went through Malvina at this disclosure. “Is she all right? Is she in any pain?”

“I suppose she must be,” he replied thoughtfully, staring into the leaping flames in the fireplace. “She was burned over the left side of her face, both hands, and her chest.”

“How did it happen?”

Gideon swung around and looked at her. His eyes shuttered, his face closed, and she knew they were done talking for tonight. “A mishap,” he repeated, his look telling her accurately that she would not find out any time soon.

She rose and gave him a tired little smile. “Good night, Lord Holt.”

As she walked to the door, his next words stopped her, freezing her blood.

“Mark my words well, Lady Malvina Brackney. I will know your purpose in the stables this night. Pray to God I am not displeased with what I find.”