Why Lords Lose Their Hearts (6 page)

Read Why Lords Lose Their Hearts Online

Authors: Manda Collins

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Regency, #Historical Romance

“Since you are all here,” the dowager said abruptly, interrupting Georgina who was in the middle of asking after a shared acquaintance, “I want to know what you mean to do to ensure Perdita’s safety.”

To his surprise, Archer suddenly felt the eyes of the room upon him.

“I’m hardly in a position to dictate to Perdita on the matter of her safety,” he said, then drained his glass. “She is as stubborn as anyone I’ve ever met. And she’ll hardly listen to the likes of me.”

“Piffle,” the dowager said with disgust. “Don’t pretend we haven’t eyes in our heads, Lord Archer. I know well enough that my granddaughter trusts your opinion. Didn’t she listen to you on the matter of the butcher? If not for your counsel the household might still be patronizing that extortionist Hamilton. What can the man have been thinking to charge such a price for an inferior joint of beef, I ask you?”

Archer did not dare point out that the matter of a butcher who was overcharging the household was not the same as someone trying to cause Perdita bodily harm. It would do no good. Besides, he really did think Perdita was stubborn. That didn’t mean he would abandon the field, however.

“You’re right,” he said, watching with amusement as the dowager preened at how quickly he’d agreed with her. “I will see to it that she’s kept safe.”

“But how?” the dowager demanded, her pleasure turning to annoyance.

“Yes, Archer,” Con said with a suspiciously innocent expression. “How?”

“I cannot tell you,” Archer said with asperity. “Otherwise whoever wishes her harm might learn the details. It is too delicate a situation for me to give all the details away.”

He was precluded from saying anything more by a knock on the drawing room door and the appearance of the dowager’s maid, Simmons.

“I beg your pardon, Your Graces, my lords, my lady,” she said to the assembled company, “but, Duchess, we must return to the dower house before Dr. Johnson arrives.”

The mulish set of the dowager’s jaw told Archer that she was not pleased at the interruption, but after some silent communication passed between the two women, the older woman sagged a little. “I suppose I must be off,” she said to the others. “But I expect you,” she said, nodding toward Archer, “to keep me apprised of developments on the matter we discussed.”

Archer bowed to acknowledge the order and the dowager seemed to relax a bit. Allowing Simmons to assist her to stand, she left the room, leaving nothing but silence in her wake.

“Well,” Isabella said finally, “that was pleasant.”

The laughter that followed burst the bubble of tension Archer hadn’t even realized had enveloped them all.

But the light mood couldn’t last. Almost apologetically, Isabella turned to Archer, her brows knitted with worry. “Now that Godmama is gone, you must tell us the truth about how my sister fares.”

 

Five

“I would have gone up first thing but I was told she was sleeping,” Isabella continued. “And then Godmama arrived and there was no question of leaving you to her tender mercies.”

Archer took the glass of brandy Ormond offered him and lowered his tall frame into the nearest chair. “She
is
sleeping. Not by choice, though. It just sort of overtook her while we were talking.”

“Poor thing,” Georgina said, taking her husband’s hand. “Rest is probably the best for her, however much she might wish to resist it.”

“Any news on the attacker?” Ormond had remained standing behind Isabella’s chair. His normally pleasant expression had been replaced by one of determination. He’d gone through something similar with Isabella at his country house and knew how dangerous this person could be. “I stopped by the magistrate’s office on our way here. The authorities need to be brought in on this as quickly as possible.”

“Thank you.” Archer rubbed his hands over his face. It was not quite six in the evening but he felt as if it should be midnight given all that had happened. “I doubt Perdita will appreciate it, but I think it’s a good idea to have a proper investigation into this matter. I plan on doing my best to hunt down the bastard, too, but there is no harm in asking for help. Especially when the attack took place in the park. Though his focus seemed to be on Perdita, he might have harmed others in his determination to harm her.”

“Well, she will simply have to accept it.” Isabella’s mouth pursed. “My sister is the most stubborn person I’ve ever known, but in this case, she is overruled. Anything that will keep her safe is perfectly acceptable to me.”

“She won’t like it one bit.” Georgina, who had faced her own terror in Bath earlier in the year, looked worried on her friend’s behalf. “Perdita might be stubborn but I think she’ll see reason once we explain the situation to her. I certainly don’t believe she will wish to put others in harm’s way by continuing to move about freely in town without proper protection.”

Archer sighed. “I thought that’s what I was supposed to be this morning. But you see how well that worked out.”

“You weren’t expecting something like that,” Ormond said. “How could you? The reenactment at the Sumralls’ ball was sinister but it was meant to threaten her feelings, not her person. Thus far, that’s all this fellow has done. It’s as if he wishes to drive her mad. Which is the same tactic he used with Isabella to begin with. It just seems as if he’s moving more quickly this go-round.

“Even so.” Archer’s jaw clenched with frustration. “I should have guessed it. If she’d been seriously harmed I would never be able to forgive myself.”

Isabella reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “You cannot think like that. You are the very reason she’s still alive and resting in her bedchamber. You and no one else. Certainly not Dunthorp.”

“What is the story on Dunthorp?” Coniston leaned forward, and for the first time Archer noticed that he no longer had the cigar and whisky from earlier. Clearly Georgina had exerted her authority there. The thought made him smile for what felt like the first time that day.

“He is also a fast mover.” Archer tried not to let the very real dislike of the other man show in his face. He didn’t trust Dunthorp, but it was as much because he had designs on Perdita, as his attempt to take advantage of her current weakness to stake his claim. “Though I suppose he cares for her in his own way.”

“I’ve never liked the fellow,” Con said firmly. “We were at Eton together and he was one of those boys who took advantage of his bulk to threaten those who were smaller. Once a bully, always a bully.”

“Never met the man.” Ormond had not moved about in the ton until this last year, and even then he preferred to keep his distance from them. “Though I’ll take your word for it that he’s not someone I’d wish to cultivate.”

“I cannot help but feel a bit hopeful,” Isabella said with an apologetic smile, “since he’s the first man my sister has shown interest in since her engagement to Lord Coniston came to naught. But I cannot understand why it’s him of all people. I’ve never been overly fond of him, either. He’s so disgustingly condescending.”

Archer knew that the diffidence Isabella had just shown before voicing her opinion was for his own benefit. Clearly he’d not been as clever at hiding his feelings for Perdita as he’d thought. He’d learned early on what it took to fool his elder brothers, of course. As the youngest of five boys, he’d needed to do so else risk merciless teasing at their hands. But fooling women was another thing altogether. He hoped that Isabella was able to see through to his true feelings only because after the day’s events he was exhausted, and not because he was simply unable to mask his thoughts. The notion of going about town with his heart on his sleeve for all the world to see was unpleasant at best.

Still, he didn’t really care if the Ormonds and the Conistons knew which way the wind blew. He trusted them, or he’d never have told them the truth about the day’s events. And at this point all he cared about was keeping Perdita safe.

“She’s chosen him because there’s no possible way she can fall in love with him,” Georgina said without hesitation, breaking into Archer’s thoughts. “He’s one of those men one likes, but only to a certain point. I don’t know Perdita’s taste fully, of course, but I can imagine that he seems safe enough to her. And I have little doubt that it’s because she thinks she can make him dance to her own tune.”

With an apologetic look at her husband, Georgina continued, “It’s why she chose to become engaged to you, Con. Though I think it was more because neither of you really fancied one another than because she could manipulate you.”

“Well, thank you for that, my dear,” Con responded without any real heat. “And here I thought she chose me because of my excellent calves.”

“They are quite good, aren’t they?” Georgie returned with a speculative look at her husband’s legs.

“Getting back to the matter at hand,” Ormond interjected, drawing groans from the others at his awful pun. “I daresay you’re correct about her reasons for choosing both Coniston and Dunthorp. It’s because she fell hard for Gervase. Stands to reason she’d not trust her own judgment on the matter. And with Dunthorp there’s the added bonus that he’s likely to dance to
her
tune and not the other way around.”

The others nodded, and Archer once again wished he’d realized what was going on between Gervase and Perdita before it was too late. He might have been able to stop things before Perdita’s trust in herself was eroded to the degree that she’d contemplate marriage with someone like Dunthorp.

Then there was the fact that he really wished he’d been able to treat the bastard to a taste of his own medicine before he got himself killed.

Con broke into the silence that had fallen as they each thought of Gervase and his brutality. “Enough about Dunthorp. What are our plans for keeping the Duchess of Stubbornness safe while she remains in London?”

“I had planned to convince her to leave town as soon as possible.” Archer knew it was a stretch, however. Perdita would not want to run away from a fight. “Perhaps she could be persuaded to go to stay with one of you in your country houses. If you’re willing to go back so soon, that is.”

“I would be more than happy to take her if she can be talked into it.” A line of worry had appeared between Isabella’s brows. “I don’t, however, think that obtaining her agreement will be an easy undertaking.”

“She might be convinced if we two suggested it to her,” Georgina said thoughtfully. “No offense to you three, but we have been in her shoes and know what she’s going through.”

“That didn’t work with you,” Con argued. “If I remember correctly, you were dead set against ‘running away’ as you called it.”

His wife shot him an exasperated look. “I would have been willing to leave, but I’d nowhere to go. And I didn’t wish to endanger any of you who chose to go with me.”

Before their discussion could turn into a true argument, Isabella broke in. “She has been due to visit us in Yorkshire for ages. And I’m not above using my condition”—she gestured to her pregnant belly—“to convince her.”

“Remind me never to get myself in the position of being persuaded by you,” Archer said with a shake of his head. “We are in the presence of ruthlessness, gentlemen.”

“Oh, pooh,” Georgie said with a wave of her hand. “It’s not as if you all don’t find equally terrifying ways of convincing us to do your bidding.”

“Indeed,” Isabella agreed. She lowered her voice in an approximation of a man’s. “Isabella, of course you cannot accompany me to the races. Think of the child. Isabella, there is no reason why you should visit the tenant farms this week. Think of the child.”

“Ouch,” Con said to Ormond, whose face was red enough to match the auburn in his hair. “I believe that’s what’s known as turnabout, old man.”

“I don’t sound like that,” Ormond said, his voice clipped. “And I most certainly could not countenance her going to the races in her condition. The crowds get very rough sometimes.”

“Oh, don’t go all stiff upper lip, darling,” Isabella said, taking her husband’s hand. “I was only funning. Besides, I did agree not to go to the races or the tenant farms, so it’s not as if I can blame you fully for it. I could have told you to go rot if I’d wished to.”

“What a charmer you are, my dear,” Ormond said, bringing her hand to his lips. “I look forward to the day when you whisper sweet nothings like ‘go rot’ into my ear instead of to the company at large.”

Now it was Isabella’s turn to blush.

Archer felt his chest burn as he watched the strong affection between Perdita’s sister and her husband. He’d grown up with parents who were just as affectionate as Ormond and Isabella. Indeed, he and his elder brothers had spent a great deal of their boyhoods rolling their eyes at the antics of their, at times, overly demonstrative parents. It hadn’t taken Archer above a few visits home with school friends to realize that not all parents were as happily wed as his own. And though he and his brothers had made a show of being utterly embarrassed when the duke and duchess spoke sweetly to one another, deep down, Archer knew that he would not deign to marry until he knew he loved his prospective bride as much as his father loved his mother.

He’d long ago decided that he’d fulfilled that requirement at least. It was difficult to imagine finding another woman he cared for as much as he did for Perdita. But before he could think of asking her to consider him as a prospective bridegroom, he had to ensure that he would be worthy of her. As things stood now, he was still a younger son without property, but if he had anything to say about it, that situation would change sooner rather than later.

“We need to stop chattering and get to work,” he said, turning matters back to the situation at hand. “And I have an idea of what we might do to make things safer for her in London if Perdita cannot be convinced to leave.”

*   *   *

Isabella and Georgina were seated at the breakfast table when Perdita appeared the next morning. She’d slept soundly and had awoken with only a goose egg on the back of her head to remind her of yesterday’s debacle.

“My dear.” Isabella rushed to her side and pulled her into a hug. “I’m so pleased that you are looking so well. I was worried sick.”

Other books

How to Make Monsters by Gary McMahon
Thief of Dreams by John Yount
The Wrong Chemistry by Carolyn Keene
Secrets My Mother Kept by Hardy, Kath
B00ADOAFYO EBOK by Culp, Leesa, Drinnan, Gregg, Wilkie, Bob
The Field of Fight: How We Can Win the Global War Against Radical Islam and Its Allies by Lieutenant General (Ret.) Michael T. Flynn, Michael Ledeen