The Reluctant Suitor (53 page)

Bentley made an heroic attempt to ignore what was going on as he laid a broad hand over his eyes and lifted his shoulders to bring up the stiff collar of his dapper coat. It served to muffle his hearing, but the laughter, which intermittently shook his shoulders, was not so easily suppressed.

Adriana noticed the driver’s self-imposed restraints and gave up trying to preserve her modesty. Not caring in the least what Colton could see, she stalked toward the manor. He had, after all, viewed her completely naked on a pair of occasions.

Of a sudden, Adriana found herself facing the incensed marquess who, in spite of his past impediments, had outdistanced her in his zeal to halt her flight. Standing firmly rooted in her path with arms akimbo, he dared her to test his patience further by going around him.

Heaving a vexed sigh, Adriana peered toward the livery. “Bentley, are you aware that your master is annoying me?”

The driver parted stubby fingers ever so slightly, enabling him to peer at the lady without compromising her modesty overmuch. He managed a heavy gulp. “Well . . . I . . . well . . . maybe not, m’liedy.”

“ ‘Twould seem your master is proving himself very, very foolish. If you care a whit for his hide, you’d better drag him back into the carriage before I fetch my gun. I’d certainly hate to do him more damage than he suffered in the war. Do you understand me?

”

“Yes, m’liedy.” Bentley decided he’d better not ignore her threat, considering that even as a small child, she had walloped his present master and even blackened his eye once when she had had enough of his tomfoolery. Scrambling down from the seat, he diligently avoided looking at the severed gown as he scurried toward his employer. “Milord, don’t yu think we’d better go now? Her liedyship really seems displeased wit’ yu right now. Mayhap aftah she calms down a bit, yu can come—”

“Dammit, Bentley, this is none of your affair, so stay out of it!” Colton barked. “Now get back to the carriage where you belong!”

“Don’t curse at him!” Adriana cried and swung her heavily beaded purse around again, this time catching Colton in the eye and causing him to stumble back in pained surprise.

“What’s going on out here?” a male voice bellowed from the front portal.

Whirling away from Colton as he clamped a hand over his throbbing eye, Adriana ran into the opening arms of her father. Burying her face against his stalwart chest, she released a floodgate of tears.

Deeply concerned over his offspring’s welfare, Gyles settled an ominous glare upon the younger man as that one staggered toward them. “Sir, if you’ve harmed my daughter in any way, let me assure you,

marquess or not, you won’t live to regret it. This time I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

Colton tried to focus his blurred, watery gaze upon the incensed earl. “From what I’ve been able to ascertain from your daughter’s gibberish, Lord Gyles, I believe the problem stems from the fact that the converse is true. I swear to you that, where she is concerned, I’ve closely adhered to a gentlemanly code of conduct and have returned her to your care in the same unspoiled condition.”

Adriana plucked at the lapels of her father’s velvet robe. “Papa, please, just send him away.”

“Has he hurt you, child?”

“No, Papa, he hasn’t touched me at all.”

Clasping a trembling hand to his brow, Gyles sighed in relief. After Roger’s attack, he had become ever wary. A moment passed before he managed to regain some measure of his equanimity. He was then wont to question her further. “Then, daughter, what has the man done to make you weep so?”

“He has done absolutely nothing, Papa. He has been a perfect gentleman. . . .”

Peering at father and daughter as he held one hand clasped over his injured eye, Colton threw up the other hand in a fine display of derision.
“Now
, my lord, perhaps you begin to see the light of it. . . .”

Adriana snuggled her head upon her father’s chest. “He doesn’t want me now any more than he did ten and six years ago.”

“That’s not true!” Colton barked. “I
do
want her, very much in fa—” Startling himself into abrupt silence, he tilted his head, wondering if the lady had socked his senses loose. What he had almost admitted would have led him posthaste to the altar, and in a manner his father had planned for him. Did he not have some last shred of resolve left?

“Please, Papa,” Adriana mewled, plucking at the decorative patch on his velvet dressing robe. “Let’s go inside. I don’t want to talk about Lord Sedgwick’s contract ever again. If Lord Riordan still wants me to marry him, I will be amenable to his proposal.”

“Now just a damn moment!” Colton roared, causing the elder’s brows to fly upward in amazement. “I have some rights here!”

Gyles patted the air in a calming motion, hoping to placate the enraged man. Not since Colton rebelled against his father’s edict had Gyles heard the man raise his voice with such intense ire. It gave him reason to hope he really cared for his daughter. “ ‘Twould behoove us to settle this matter later, my lord, after you and Adriana have had a chance to think this thing through more rationally. ‘Tis apparent my daughter is upset, and to lengthen this discussion at this present moment would only heighten her distress. Give her a day or two to settle down, and then we’ll talk about it again.”

Colton champed at the bit, anxious to settle the matter before Adriana did anything they would both be sorry for later. Samantha had informed him of the rumors concerning Riordan that were making their way around the area. Now, after hearing the girl say she’d accept the man’s proposal, his jealousy prodded him unmercifully. Of all Adriana’s past suitors, Riordan was the one he feared most. The man had the wits, looks, and charm to steal the lady from him. Only the contract his father had initiated years ago gave him some advantage over the other man, and if that was all the weapon he had to halt the girl from marrying the man, then he’d argue till he was nigh blue in the face before allowing Adriana to terminate their agreement. As much as he personally admired Riordan, he had no doubt that he’d prove the nobleman’s worst enemy if they became embroiled in a confrontation over the lady.

“Lord Gyles, you have not heard my side of this fray yet, and I most respectfully petition you to do so ere you lend an ear to Riordan’s plea for your daughter’s hand. Have I not more of a right to her than he does?”

“I shall give you a fair hearing,” Gyles declared. “Of that, be confident. I only ask that you allow me some time to talk with my daughter and to hear her grievances against you. I won’t commit her to another man until you have been given every opportunity to voice your petitions and complaints.”

Though Colton was disinclined to leave, out of the corner of his undamaged eye he could see Bentley silently pleading for him to relent. Grudgingly he did so.

Squinting at father and daughter as he held a hand clasped over part of his face, he gave them a shallow bow. “Until a later time then.”

Pivoting about, Colton stalked to the landau and climbed inside. From the window, he watched Gyles lay a comforting arm around Adriana’s shoulders and escort her inside. The door closed behind them, seeming to signal an end to the courtship that Colton had been agonizing over for the last two months and longer. The hollow feeling in his chest removed any doubt from his mind that he could no more live without Adriana than he could his own heart.

Colton drew his cane from its place of residency beside the seat and rapped the handle against the interior ceiling of the landau, giving the signal for Bentley to take them from this place. The conveyance lurched into motion, and in the lantern-lit gloom that surrounded him, Colton stared morosely into the darkness beyond the window as he clasped a handkerchief over his injured eye in an effort to stem its unrelenting watery flow.

Fourteen

H
arrison shifted the candlestick to his left hand and rapped the knuckles of his right upon the door of the marquess’s bedchamber. He was fully aware that his lordship had returned home in a fretful mood only a couple hours earlier, and then, much sooner than usual, had secluded himself in his private chambers.

Under normal circumstances, he would not have disturbed the man, but the courier had advised him the missive was of grave importance. “My lord,” he called through the heavy, wooden portal. “A messenger has just arrived from London, bearing urgent news for you.”

A loud crash, the splintering of glass, and a smothered curse preceded a gruff request to delay any entrance at the moment. Within the chambers, Colton dragged the sheet over his naked loins as he swung his long legs over the edge of the bed. He doubted that he had closed his eyes even once since he had turned down the wick and snuffed the remaining flame. His mind had been too busy foraging over possibilities that could preclude the continuance of his courtship with Adriana and the legalities that he’d be willing to put into play to halt the termination of their future together. For the life of him, he just couldn’

t let her walk away as she now seemed determined to do. His heart would shrivel in sorrow.

With a laborious sigh, Colton threaded his fingers through his tousled hair, looked across the room toward the dancing flames cavorting in the fireplace, and then again at the glass-strewn carpet near his bed. His injured eye was nearly matted shut and undoubtedly would need a bandage if he had to go anywhere.

“Come in, Harrison,” he called out, “and make sure you bring enough light to aid you where you step. I’

ve just knocked over a lamp.”

“Forgive me for waking you, my lord,” Harrison replied as he hurried across the room.

“I wasn’t asleep,” Colton admitted.

The steward placed the candlestick upon the table and gave the missive over to him. Breaking the waxed closure, Colton unfolded the parchment and, clasping one hand over his eye, began to read the contents of the message as the elder set about cleaning up the broken glass.

Miss Pandora Mayes is near to dying and begs you to come with haste.

“I must travel to London immediately, Harrison,” Colton announced. “Tell Bentley to ready the second carriage with the working steeds and bring along another driver. We’ll be traveling fast and hard, and I don’t want to wear out our best horses. As for the glass, you can clean that up later.”

“Shall I pack a satchel or a trunk for you, my lord?”

“A couple of changes of clothes and essentials should I be detained over the weekend. Hopefully, if I am delayed, I’ll at least be back by Monday morning.”

“That would be nice, my lord. I’m sure your mother would enjoy having you home for Christmas for a change.”

“I’ll make every effort to return in time.”

In less than an hour, Colton was in the coach and being whisked eastward toward London. Shortly after dawn the next morning, they reached the outskirts of the city, and from there, Colton directed the second driver to the actress’s town house. When finally the conveyance was drawn to a halt before the place, Colton quickly alighted.

“I may be awhile, Bentley,” he informed the man who had been slumbering inside the coach. “There’s a stable and an inn down the road apiece. Do what you have to do for the animals and get some food for yourselves. Perhaps you can even find a place to rest for an hour or so. If you’re not here when I come out, I’ll come looking for you at the inn.”

“Aye, milord.”

At the entrance of Pandora’s town house, Colton rapped his knuckles against the solid plank. Eventually it was opened by an elderly, darkly garbed rector. The man seemed somewhat surprised when he noticed the bandage over the younger man’s eye.

“Your lordship?”

“Aye, I’m Lord Randwulf. Are you the one who sent the note?”

“I am, my lord. I’m Reverend Adam Goodfellow, rector of the parish church in Oxford where . . . Miss

. . . ah . . . Mayes was once christened. She bade me come to London to attend her in these her last hours and asked me to notify you.”

“Have you been here long?” Colton inquired.

“I arrived yesterday, my lord, after being sent her note. The surgeon was with her, but left her in my care, having given up all hope of pulling her through.”

“May I see her?”

The wizened man swung the door wider and beckoned Colton in. “I’m afraid there isn’t much life left in Miss Mayes, my lord. Indeed, sir, I rather suspect she has been holding on merely to see you.”

“Then you’d better lead me to her.”

“Of course, my lord,” the clergyman replied and shuffled about. His stride was no faster, and in the narrow confines of the corridor, Colton felt hindered by the slow progress of the ancient.

“If you’ll excuse me, Reverend, I believe I know where her bedchamber is.”

“Yes, of course,” the man replied with a meaningful inflection. Flattening himself against the wall of the narrow passageway, he swept a hand before him in an invitation for the younger man to pass.

Colton did so quickly and, upon reaching the far end of the hall, pushed open the door on the right. The bedroom was lit by the meager glow of a single oil lamp sitting atop a bedside table. Residing like a pale wraith in the bed that he had shared with her numerous times was the actress whom he had not seen for at least nine months. In the scant light, her eyes seemed nothing more than dark shadows hollowed out in a death mask. Her cheeks were sunken, her lips ashen. The vivacious bloom that had once brightened them was no longer evident.

Although seemingly entombed in the dark gloom, a plump, frizzy-haired woman of perhaps thirty or more sat in a chair in a corner of the room. Her blouse had been pulled aside an ample breast at which a tiny newborn nursed, but it was her slovenly appearance that made Colton mentally cringe.