The Rake and the Recluse REDUX (a time travel romance) (85 page)

Hepplewort stumbled through the door, tripping on a loose piece of flashing meant to keep out the weather. Cursing, his gaze fell on Gunn, a lithe, dark man propped in the corner against a buxom woman. Hepplewort startled when he was prodded from behind, pushed farther into the pub. He turned to find the gentleman from the previous evening leaning jauntily on a cane.

“Humph,” he said as he turned and walked toward Gunn. “Mr. Gunn,” he said, grumpily sidling up to the table, “I am here to make arrangements for recompense as requested.”

Gunn looked up, chewing a piece of ham as he considered the squat disrupter. “You disappeared,” he grumbled. “You were to return straight from the wedding and make your reparations.”

“I understand, Mr. Gunn. I do beg your pardon. Had bit of a tiff with an angry duke, you see. Lost my betrothed, but I am back in London to find another. Then I’m off to the estate before someone discovers.”

“This someone you’re hiding from, mightn’t that be the angry duke?”

Hepplewort shifted uncomfortably. “One and the same, Mr. Gunn. Now, as you see, I have a schedule, and it is necessary that I get about my business and return to the country as soon as is possible. Let’s get on about this, shall we?”

Gunn watched him.

“I have rooms on Talbot Square, off Oxford Street, as you apparently already know.” Hepplewort glanced at the other gentleman. “I’ve no longer a need to be in the
ton
, and so would part with them. The rooms are easily worth more than your note on me. I will sign them to you the day I leave.”

“You will sign them to me now, or not at all.”

“Mr. Gunn, you do understand I have need for the rooms until I procure a bride and retire to the country? I also need to arrange to move the household items and—”

“You will sign the deed to me now. You may remain in the house until you remove to Shropshire. How long do you need?”

“I am unsure—merely as long as it takes to find a bride. If you are game to help, the sooner I’ll quit London.”

Mr. Gunn smiled wickedly. “I suppose you have requirements for this bride?”

Hepplewort nodded, wary of his new partner. “She must be chaste. And demure. I require a lady in bearing and upbringing. Nothing else will suit.”

“
You
expect to fetch a highborn chit?” Gunn asked skeptically.

Hepplewort’s eyes bulged. “I beg your pardon? I carry an earldom. Any well-bred lady would be honored to accept my suit and be my countess. The mother of the future Earl of Shropshire is a very tempting position, if I don’t say so myself.”

The other two men stared in shock and disgust. “You’ve quite the work cut out for you, Calder,” Gunn said with a smile at the second gentleman.

Calder shifted his gaze from Hepplewort to Gunn and back again. His expression of shock deepened gradually until anger overtook him.

Gunn’s shoulders shook with laughter. “You had better get yourself busy. You have balls to attend, invitations to accept.”

Calder’s eyes narrowed on Gunn, then he turned for the door, rapping his cane on the floor as he strode out. “Hepplewort!” he yelled from just outside the door.

Hepplewort jumped, then ran as fast as his pudgy little legs would carry him.

“There can be no doubt about who he is and what he is here for,” the rumbling voice said.

Lilly stopped at the top of the stairs and went perfectly still.

“I can’t believe he has the gall to show his face in London, after what we told him. After what happened.” This came from Perry.

Lilly’s heart stuttered and she sank to the top stair. “It’s him,” she whispered, her hand coming up to her mouth.

Perry felt her presence before he turned, hushing the gentleman with him. He saw her sitting at the top of the staircase, and his own heart skipped a pace at her pallor. “Lilly, sweet, are you ready to break your fast?” he asked casually, attempting a change of subject. It was obvious from her shocked expression that she’d heard at least some of their discussion.

“Don’t.” She pointed at him.

Perry glanced at the gentleman, then walked slowly toward the stairs. “Lilly, I—”

“It’s him, isn’t it? You are talking about
him
. The man who ruined me, who tried to kill me. The man who thought he had succeeded.”

“Lilly—”

“Don’t you dare, my lord Trumbull. Tell me the truth, or I will walk from this town house and never look back,” she said severely.

Perry held out his hand. “You are safe here with me. My men are watching him. We will handle him, I promise you. You will not come to harm at his hands again. I promised to protect you, and. I. Will.” The last came out so forcefully his jaw ached with it.

She stood and walked down the stairs toward him, her eyes narrowing as she descended. “It is not fear I feel,” she said, taking his hand and a deep breath at the heavy, warm weight of him. “I feel perfectly safe here, with you.”

“I am glad of it,” Perry said. He turned her to the gentlemen. “May I present the most Honorable Thorne Magnus Calder, the Marquess of Canford, one of my cousins.” He leaned toward her. “Future Duke of St. Cyr.”

Calder shook his head and bowed before Lilly, drawing a startled gasp from her throat.

“Oh, no, tell him,” she said, hitting Perry’s shoulder. “Tell him who I am, don’t let him do that,” she cried. “My lord, please!”

“Lilly.” The voice rumbled forth from the future Duke of St. Cyr like a herd of beasts loosed on the meadow. “I know perfectly well who you are, and of whence you came. Trumbull here has no authority over me or my behavior, even with his
advanced
age.” He grinned, slanting a devious look at his cousin. “I believe anyone with a heart as brave as yours deserves my unmitigated devotion, and so you have it.”

Lilly shook her head, her hand tangled in the sleeve of Perry’s coat. She but he caught her up, holding her against him.

Perry glanced at Calder, who turned and walked toward the breakfast room at the back of the town house.

“Lilly. Sweet, sweet Lilly, please do not distress yourself so.”

“You canna understand, milord, what this means to me. I canna— Milord, he’s a duke! I— even your brother I canna. Please,” she cried.

“He isn’t quite a duke yet. His sire would be most disappointed by your advancement of his son, as that would mean he missed his own funeral,” Perry chided sweetly, trying to get her to laugh. “Calder is my cousin, one of the family. He will accept you as I have. He knows what an amazing woman you are.”

She studied him, sinking into his eyes to harness the truth that swam just beyond her reach. She tried to smile. “Please, in the future, please at least give me some warning, so I don’t make a complete fool of myself.”

“He won’t have noticed, I promise. Come, our guest is at breakfast, and we should join him.”

“
Our
guest?” Lilly grasped his arm, allowing him to lead her to the breakfast room where Calder had gone before.

They entered and Perry placed his hand at the small of her back, urging her forward.

Lilly smiled, her spine straightening slightly, taking some of the confidence Perry sought to loan her. “My lord Canford, I beg your pardon—”

He cut her off with a wave as he stood to acknowledge her. “First off, you will address me as Calder, as all in the family have wont to do. Secondly, you will not apologize to me, as it is frightfully clear that my dear cousin quite rudely shocked you by having me here without so much as a warning. If anything, I should wish you would admonish him for his egregious error in judgment.”

Lilly decided that Calder’s demeanor quite undermined his rather large presence.

He leveled upon her a devastatingly charming smile.

Lilly took a sudden breath, then felt Perry edge her closer to a chair.

“Yes, I…yes,” she said finally as she sat next to Perry, the marquess across from her.

Perry motioned to the footmen, who presented heaping trays of savory cuts of meat, thick heady sauces, and sweet jellies. Perry filled her plate.

She glanced up once, but he merely smiled. “You need your energy. This is no time to be dainty.”

“So,” she said, glancing at Calder, “tell me of him. Why is he here, and what have you to do with it?”

Calder grinned. “My, but she does recover well.” He looked directly at her after receiving a nod from Perry. “I was charged with the duty of overseeing Hepplewort’s town house on Talbot Square as Calder House, my own residence, is located on Sussex Square. It’s a beautiful area, really, adjacent to Kensington Gardens. My rooms look out over the gardens at sunset, truly a marvelous sight—”

Perry cleared his throat, interrupting Calder’s musings.

“Yes, well, the same rooms overlook the town houses across the Bathhurst Mews and Grand Junction Road. Hepplewort’s being just across the road at Talbot’s is easily visible from my highest floors. My majordomo was alerted to an arrival by the additional lights and bustle about the town house, and I went straightaway to handle him.” He paused, looking to Perry to see if that was enough information.

He nodded again.

Calder cleared his throat. “Approaching Mr. Gunn wasn’t at all a difficulty. Gunn is a well-known bookmaker, and as everyone is aware of Hepplewort’s penchant for the cards, certain arrangements with the bookmaker were already in place should he turn up in town. Gunn, of course, could care less from whence his mark procured his tinker, so long as he procured it.”

She stared at him for a moment, assessing, then glanced at Perry—something was being left out.

He watched her nervously for a moment. “It appears that Hepplewort has come to town to—uh, well, he is yet in need of a wife.”

Her eyes fell and her breath stopped. Then she looked up for him to continue.

He took a deep breath. “Since Roxleigh divested him of Francine, he intends to find a different bride.”

Lilly watched him carefully, then poked at the food piled on her plate before looking up to Calder, then Perry. “Well, he cannot be allowed to complete the task.”

Perry and Calder shifted with discomfort, their need to control unsettling. They exchanged preemptive glances, and nodded. How and when Hepplewort was to be dealt with would be discussed soon, but it wasn’t something Lilly would have any part of; she certainly had no need to be involved, as far as Perry was concerned.

Lilly pushed the cuts of meat and eggs around on her plate for a while as Perry and Calder attempted something resembling small talk.

“How is the duchess?”

“Mama is well—excited, of course, for Roxleigh to declare his troth. I suppose she is tired of fielding questions as he is so terribly unapproachable. It’s a boon, really. No more trepidation in the ballrooms, all the mamas tossing their daughters in his path, and all of us waiting to see who he trips over in the end.”

Perry smiled as he thought of Gideon and his Francine. He glanced up to see Lilly watching him from the safety of her eyelashes and his smile deepened to reassure her.

“I have to tell him,” he said slowly.

Calder grunted. “You will do no such thing, Perry. Roxleigh is in the midst of his wedding celebration—which, by the way, you should be attending.” He sent him a scornful glance. “As the head of the house of Trumbull is otherwise engaged, and you have quite enough to deal with at present, that puts me in line to take the reins. If Roxleigh has an issue with the decision, he can take it up with me after the wedding when we inform him of the outcome. As much as it was his decision to hold notification of the House of Lords until after their wedding, it has fallen to us to control the repercussions.”

Perry groaned. “I believe I will take this young lady for a picnic, perhaps to Regent’s Park, then a walk through the zoological gardens to see the royal collection.”

“Capital idea. Perhaps you would stop by Calder House and take some other ladies with you? I’ve no doubt they would be enthralled with your miss, and they would also appreciate the respite from my attention.”

“Oh? And who, pray tell me, does this party include?”

“Merely Izzy, Poppy, Saoirse, and Maebh,” Calder said with a grin.

Perry shook his head. “They have terrible names.”

“I beg your pardon?” Calder said, affronted.

“I only mean, I have been teaching our miss to read, and well, Isadore and Poppy are fine, but Saoirse and Maebh? I’ll never be able to explain them.”

“Try,” Lilly said quietly.

“I will try.” Perry gave her a smile.

Calder took the opportunity to stand. “I will leave you to your teaching,” he said with a swift bow.

“Lessons,” Perry said. “We call them lessons.”

“Yes, well, a third hand in the pot certainly will be a distraction. I’ll let the women know you will be around by noon.”

Perry grimaced, then stood as his cousin left. He took his seat then turned her to face him.

“Seer-sha,” he pronounced slowly, “is spelled S-A-O-I-R-S-E, and Maave is spelled M-A-E-B-H.”