The Sweet and Spicy Regency Collection (23 page)

Iona squeezed her hand as the ornately carved wooden door swung open.

“Fetch the earl,” the duke said, handing his card to the frowning butler.

“I am sorry, your grace,” the butler said gravely. “The earl is presently away from home.”

“He may feign his absence to anyone else in this town, I don’t care. He will see me.” The duke crossed his arms and glared at the butler’s stern expression.

For a moment May thought the duke had finally met a man brave enough to resist his severe façade. Gradually the man’s shoulders slumped, and the corners of his lips dropped.

“Very well,” the butler said as he backed out of the doorway. “I will inform the earl of your arrival.”

Before leaving them, he led the trio into the very study where May had brazenly bitten her uncle in order to escape his madness. The drapes were drawn and the candles unlit. The room was dark and silent.

The duke laid a hand on the butler’s arm and delayed him before he could scurry away. “You will tell him not to keep me waiting.”

The butler gave a quick nod and disappeared.

Not five minutes later the Earl of Redfield appeared at the doorway dressed in the very finest buff pantaloons, colorful waistcoat, and black frock. His gaze flicked from May to Iona to the duke.

“Newbury,” he said.

“Redfield,” the duke replied.

May stepped forward to intervene. This was her battle to keep Aunt Winnie in her life and she intended to fight it.

“Ah, what a surprise,” a booming voice echoed through the hall. Mr. Tumblestone sauntered into the room, wearing a broad smile and a rather baggy country outfit. He maneuvered around the earl and, with his thick hand outstretched, approached the duke.

“Your grace,” he said jovially. “It is a pleasure to see you again.” He turned and gave a nod toward Iona. “And you, my lady.” His watery gaze then landed on May. “And especially you, Miss Sheffers.” He swept May’s hand into his and placed a kiss on her gloved knuckle.

“How do you do?” May said as she tugged to regain possession of her hand. She turned away from Mr. Tumblestone and returned her attentions to her primary target. “Uncle, I wish to make amends.”

“Hush, May,” the duke said lifting his hand. “Let me handle this.”

“But, your grace—” May started to say.

“Let the men talk.” Mr. Tumblestone’s thick fingers wound around her arm. He pulled her until she was nestled close to his side. “While your spirit enthralls me, I doubt a man of either the duke’s or the earl’s stature are amused by such antics.”

May tilted her head up at the portly man and frowned. “Did you just say you were enthralled?”

She noticed then that both Uncle Sires and the duke had fully turned around and were gaping at them. The duke’s manner took on a fatherly tone as he stepped forward to intervene. Iona gave May a wink and settled into a comfortable armchair, looking as if she were getting ready to enjoy a play.

“Perhaps you should take care and remove your hands from Miss Sheffers,” someone growled.

May’s head snapped toward the study’s doorway. Her heart stopped. What was he doing here? Lord knew she certainly didn’t need any more complications standing in the way of her seeing to Aunt Winnie’s welfare. For his sake and Winnie’s, May had left him and her heart at Longbranch House. He shouldn’t be here, interfering with her life. He didn’t have a place in her life . . . nor she in his.

Yet there Radford stood at the threshold, as handsome as ever, dressed all in black with a cane in one hand and the earl’s lanky butler dangling by the collar in the other. Wynter served as an imposing second at his side. Both men’s gazes were fixed on Mr. Tumblestone, especially on how his hands were tightly curled around May’s arms.

May’s heart lurched. She’d lived in London long enough to know that wild rakes had the troubling tendency of challenging each other to duels over such trivial matters. By no means did she want a duel fought over her.

“What in blazes is going on?” Uncle Sires roared. “I will not abide my home being treated like a public house!” His face darkened to a deep puce color that couldn’t be healthy.

May attempted to pull herself from Tumblestone’s grasp, but he only closed his farm-hardened hands more fiercely around her shoulders.

“I said unhand her.” Radford’s voice carried the force of his military background with it. “You have no right to touch her.”

“Please, this is too much,” May said, still squirming to free herself.

“There is no need for these theatrics,” Mr. Tumblestone said with a nod to Radford and a second, deeper nod in the duke’s direction. “If you would but let me explain, all would be well.”

“I doubt that,” Radford murmured. He released the hapless butler, crossed his arms, and glared as if the devil had taken him.

“Please explain yourself then, Tumblestone,” the duke said soberly.

Uncle Sires grunted and gave a nod. His skin tone began to return to its normal pale pallor.

A large grin spread across Tumblestone’s wide lips. He traced the rim of his slick bottom lip a couple of times before proceeding. “Miss Sheffers and I have an agreement.”

May watched as Radford’s hands closed into a pair of very solid fists.

“No,” Tumblestone was quick to add. “There hasn’t been a formal announcement. Quite honestly, there hasn’t been time. The earl and I were calling on Miss Sheffers to make the final arrangements when Lady Winifred suffered a collapse because of her weak heart.”

“That’s a lie,” Radford said, biting off the words. His fists clung tightly to the stout golden-headed cane at his side. “She would never willingly accept a marriage proposal from you.”

“Ah, but she has.”

May’s head began spinning. She had accepted his suit. That graceful letter she’d penned just hours before her aunt fell ill had said as much. Her eyes grew wide as Tumblestone released her shoulder so he could pull that very letter from his waistcoat pocket.

“Isn’t that so, Miss Sheffers?” he asked.

With her gaze fixed on that cursed letter, she nodded slowly while her mind worked furiously on trying to figure out what best to say.

“Is this what you truly wish, May?” the duke asked in that paternal tone of his.

“Before you answer,” Mr. Tumblestone rushed to say just as May opened her mouth to gently tell him that she’d changed her mind, “let me remind you of the situation.” He turned to the Duke of Newbury then. “She’s been unduly influenced, and I’d say, confused by a man who desires only to make her his mistress.”

“Indeed?” The duke’s eyebrows rose. “Is the charge true, Evers?”

“Indeed it is not.” Radford tossed down his cane and peeled off his gloves as he advanced. “You will pay for that insult.”

Tumblestone tugged at his gloves, pulling them off one finger at a time.

Oh dear, trouble was brewing. Trouble she didn’t have time for. All she wanted was to see her aunt. If the men’s actions were to continue in this vein, a challenge for a duel would no doubt be issued. May planted her feet when it became clear that she stood between the two men and their dangerous folly. She held up her arms.

“Stop this right now.” Her voice rang with such chilly hauteur that both men froze where they stood. “I will not permit any man to fight in my presence or on my behalf. Up until now, I haven’t needed a man in my life, and nothing has changed to compel me to cling to the nearest strong arm. I am my own person and I intend to make my own decisions.”

Tumblestone appeared vastly amused by her speech. He slapped his gloves against his arm and chuckled. “Very well, Miss Sheffers.”

Radford, on the other hand, wasn’t going to be so easily dissuaded. His jaw tightened as he glared daggers at her. She felt like she’d slapped him in the face. The anger burning behind his tense expression was familiar. Just like the day in the Pump Room when he’d nearly fallen and she’d taken the blame for the mishap, she’d punctured his pride.

And that was the last thing she wanted to do. No matter what—despite their lack of a future—May loved Radford as dearly as she loved her parents and as fiercely as she loved her aunt. Though she may never see him again, after today, he would always be a part of her heart and her thoughts.

“Please, my lord, you need to worry about your own affairs. As you can see—” She gestured toward the duke. “—I am being well looked after.”

“But I—”

She pressed a gloved finger to his lips. Shameful behavior, she knew, but still she needed to touch him, to feel his warmth just one more time. What she was about to say was guaranteed to tear at her already tattered heart. “Go back to Lady Lillian. You have chosen well with her. She is worthy of your title and will make you a good wife. Worry about her, my lord. Not me. Your name has been sullied enough by connecting it with my problems and me. Think of your family name and do what is right.”

Radford captured the finger May had pressed to his lips and held the slender digit fast in his palm. “What is right?”

The question struck her dumb.

“Family duty,” Uncle Sires answered for her. “I must congratulate you, child, for having put voice to a point I hold dear. One’s duty to the family must always come first. Do you not agree?”

May felt trapped between Radford’s intense gaze and her uncle’s encouragement to blindly obey and satisfy her obligation to honor the Redfield family name.

“Think of your aunt,” Mr. Tumblestone said. “Lady Winifred will wish to have you nearby during her long recovery.”

Again, her head spun. Drat that bump on her head paining her temple. If she could only have some time to think clearly . . . if only there wasn’t a crowded room waiting to hear her decision . . . if only her life were different.

But, that wasn’t exactly true. Before she felt her heart beating and learned of its existence, she’d been content. She’d enjoyed living with her aunt and taking care of her needs. Her life wasn’t perfect, but whose was? She’d been happy.

And could be happy again.

The choice was hers to make.

“I am sorry, Radford.” She drew her hand away.

Independence had made her happy. That was one choice she could make. Her aunt was another. Family duty weighed heavily on her shoulders. After years of hard work supporting her aunt, she knew her shoulders could bear the weight. “My aunt comes first. I will do what it takes to be in her life, to be there for her.”

“What is this poppycock?” Aunt Winnie leaned heavily on her rarely used cane as she slowly entered the room. She was wearing a heavy wool wrapper over her white nightgown. A frilly cap framed her face, covering all but a few stray wisps of gray hair.

Everyone in the room turned to watch her make a grand entrance.

“Winnie?” May gasped. Her hands flew to her chest. Her aunt looked so pale, so weak. May charged across the room and caught her aunt’s free arm to help support her. “Winnie, you should be abed.”

“Poppycock!” Winnie banged her cane against the floor. She did, however, permit May’s continued support. “There is too much chicanery occurring in this house for me to lounge around now.”

“Please, take my chair,” Lady Iona offered. Wynter assisted May as she led Winnie to the soft cushioned seat. Her aunt’s feet moved painfully slowly. The poor woman should not have been allowed to stray from her bed. By the time she was settled in the chair, she was panting from the effort.

May hugged Winnie and could not stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks. “I was so worried. You cannot believe how worried. I feared I was going to lose you.”

Winnie, true to her proud self, didn’t allow May’s gushing to last. She patted May’s arm before slamming her cane against the floor to silence the room.

“Although it is heartwarming to see you, May, you are not the reason I came down here.” Winnie’s voice sounded as regal and strong as ever. She reached out her heavy arm and pointed toward Mr. Tumblestone. “You,” she rolled the word. “We must speak.”

The grin faded from Mr. Tumblestone’s face. He bowed his head. “Yes, I suppose we must.”

“Aunt?” May couldn’t understand why Winnie would feel the need to drag herself from a sick bed just to speak with her niece’s suitor. She’d almost always allowed May to handle her own affairs. It was rare indeed for her to step in and take charge like this. She firmly believed that May needed to learn to handle problems as they came and not to expect someone else to fix them for her. May agreed whole-heartedly to that philosophy.

What did her aunt intend to do?

“I once loved you with all my heart, all my being,” Aunt Winnie said to Mr. Tumblestone.

May’s jaw dropped.

“This is not the time, Winnie,” Uncle Sires said through clenched teeth. His color darkened again as his gaze tripped across all the members of the
ton
standing in his study and witnessing yet another drama thanks to May.

“When you were ripped away from me so many years ago, I’d thought my life would end. You were the world to me. Oh, you knew exactly how to speak to a lady and make her feel as if there was no one else in the world but her.”

Mr. Tumblestone had courted Aunt Winnie? It was possible. He lived only a few miles from Redfield Abbey, and they were of similar ages.

“Years later I learned the truth. I now know you accepted the money my brother gave you to stop the relationship. The truth tore at me even worse than the mystery of your sudden disappearance. When you arrived in Bath with Sires, I thought you had come to beg my forgiveness.” Winnie lifted her chin proudly.

“You don’t understand the circumstances,” Mr. Tumblestone said, tightly. “You have never gone without money.”

Winnie raised a brow. “Nevertheless,” she said. May shivered at the frost in her aunt’s tone. “You came to marry my niece, not to settle with me. Naturally I assumed May would refuse. Yet a part of me agreed that she needed a husband. My deepest desire is to see her raise a family of her own, to have someone to love and care for when I am gone.”

“Oh, Winnie,” May whispered, unable to bear the thought of a world without her aunt.

Winnie stiffened. “Up until now I have held my tongue, giving fate a chance to take its course. I will do so no longer. Other paths to fulfillment are now possible for my niece. And you, Mr. Tumblestone, are cold and heartless, longing only for wealth. I would have been miserable in marriage to you.