A Perfect Gentleman (41 page)

By the time he reached Fairview, Miss Ellianne Kane had left for London to settle her aunt's affairs, the servants told him. Miss Isabelle Kane had gone north for the funeral. So the captain sold his watch and his silver buttons and trekked across the country to the Marquess of Chaston's estate in Yorkshire. Isabelle was not there, never had been there, and was never going to be invited there. When he asked for an interview with the marquess, to offer for his niece's hand in marriage, Brisbane was thrown off the property.

With nothing left to sell, he was lucky enough to find a ride back to London with a band of circus performers, in exchange for his help with their horses. They stopped at every market square and village green to perform, though, so he might have made better time if he had walked, if his leg had permitted.

But now he was back in Town, in a fresh uniform after a visit to his bank, and calling on Isabelle. He begged Miss Kane's apology for mistaking her for his beloved—Miss Kane was too tall and too old, at closer inspection—but where was Isabelle?

After a look toward Ellianne to make sure he could speak what the poor man already suspected, Stony said, “That's the problem. We have no idea. We thought she'd be with you, whoever her gentleman friend turned out to be, on her way to Gretna Green.” Brisbane drew himself erect. “I will marry my darling properly, in a church with our friends and family nearby. She deserves nothing less.”

Her sister deserved more than a crippled soldier who could not manage a simple journey, Ellianne thought, but the man did seem sincere in his affection for Isabelle. “We have to find her before you can marry her anywhere. Perhaps you have another idea where we can look?”

Brisbane did not. Stony sent him home to rest and think about it. He and Ellianne had unfinished business first.

He had hardly finished taking the pins from her hair when Timms cleared his throat outside the book room door. “You have a caller, miss.”

“Tell him to go away.”

“It is Lady Wellstone, and she is upset.”

“My stepmama is always upset about something,” Stony answered. “Give her a handkerchief and then tell her to go away.”

He knew that would not work, so he sighed and said, “Later, my sweet.”

Gwen was in the parlor, in a taking. She embraced Ellianne, crying, “You were right; that man is a rake! I have been offered the worst insult of my life.”

Stony cursed. He was not in the mood for any more high drama. All he wanted was ten minutes alone with Ellianne, not another confrontation.

“Wellstone will make it right,” Ellianne told the older woman, making Stony feel as if he could face a fire-breathing dragon, much less whatever gudgeon had offended silly Gwen.

“Which rake would that be, Gwen, and do I have to call him out?” The sooner he got rid of Gwen, the sooner he could have his time with Ellianne.

“Strickland!”

Ellianne was aghast. “He did not try to molest you, too, did he? I'll run him through myself.”

Gwen sniffled. “Worse. He took me to his love nest!”

A man should not be shot for trying to steal a little private time with the object of his affections, Stony firmly believed, wishing he had some quiet place to take Ellianne. On the other hand, he did not appreciate the baron playing fast and loose with Gwen. “I thought you said he was reformed. In fact, I thought his intentions were entirely honorable.”

“So did I,” Gwen wailed, throwing herself into his arms and dampening his shirtfront with her tears.

Then Brisbane's words echoed from the doorway again: “Unhand my fiancée, you cad!” Only this time the red-faced baron was in the entry, not a red-coated soldier.

“Fiancée?” Gwen and Stony asked at once.

But Ellianne was not paying attention. “Cad? Who are you to be calling Lord Wellstone a cad?” She advanced on Lord Strickland, who scurried behind an armchair for safety. “You accost young women, you keep low company, drink and gamble to excess, and now you offer a respectable widow a slip on the shoulder. You should be ashamed of yourself, sir.”

Strickland looked toward Stony, begging for rescue, but the viscount had his arms crossed over his broad, damp chest and a smile on his face, enjoying Ellianne at her most majestic.

Gwen was still asking: “Fiancée? Did he say fiancée?”

No one answered her.

Ellianne tapped her foot. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Strickland frowned at Stony for his lack of intervention. Gentlemen should stick together, after all. All Stony did was raise an eyebrow and wait. “I'd be interested in your answer myself, as the head of Lady Wellstone's household, you understand.”

“What, I should have asked your permission first, a man half my age?” the baron blustered. “And that's not the way of it a'tall. I admit I made some mistakes in the past, missy, and I've suffered for them, I have. Lost my lands, and almost lost my family jewels. But I already begged your pardon, and I ain't doing it again. Whatever company I kept is nothing a lady should acknowledge nor mention, but since you did, I can say I ain't been back in ages. As for my place in Richmond, I haven't kept a mistress there in years. I wanted to show Gwennie that I wasn't entirely without property, so she wouldn't think she was marrying any caper merchant.”

Stony asked, “Gwennie?”

Gwen asked, “Marrying?”

But Ellianne asked, “Richmond? Isabelle said you took her for a drive there, too. Did you show her your house also, in hope of convincing her to marry you?”

Strickland kept his eyes from meeting Gwen's. “Might have. It's a pretty place. We didn't go in, mind you. No one there but the caretaker and his wife, so it wouldn't have been at all the thing.”

Ellianne turned to Stony. “She's in Richmond! I know it. My sister is at Lord Strickland's house in Richmond. I don't know why she's there, but it's the perfect place to hide.”

There went Stony's chance to have Ellianne to himself again. Later was seeming like forever to him, but he understood that she had to go see now.

Strickland went with Gwen in her carriage, and they stopped to pick up Brisbane. Stony took Ellianne in his faster curricle, but they could not get too far ahead, needing the baron's directions. He directed the coach to pull up at a charming stone and timber cottage set in a well-maintained park. No one was stirring.

Ellianne hardly dared breathe, she was hoping so hard. She held Stony's hand as they walked up the pathway to the house. When they were halfway there, the door flew open and a whirlwind with red hair rushed down the stairs.

“Oh, I knew you would come! What took you so long?”

First she was in Brisbane's arms; then she was in Ellianne's. She even kissed Stony's cheek for driving Ellianne. “I do not know who you are, sir, but you brought my sister, so I am grateful.” She hugged a blushing Strickland for letting her use his lovely cottage, even though he had not known. After hasty introductions she invited him—and the rest, of course, since she had not released Captain Brisbane's arm—inside his own house for refreshments.

Ellianne was wiping her eyes with Stony's last handkerchief, but her joy was tempered with curiosity and a tinge of aggravation. Her sister was radiant, while she had been frantic with worry. She had a hundred questions. “But why are you here, Isabelle? Why did you leave Aunt Augusta's? And why did you not come home, or tell anyone where you were? I have been turning London upside down, and half of England.”

“You mean you never got my letters? You neither, Daniel? That's why you did not come for me?” Isabelle started weeping, but Stony did not flinch. She was Brisbane's problem now, wetting the captain's clothes. “Oh, I knew I should not have trusted that tinker! He swore he would take my letters to the posting house. I'd wager he took my coins and never delivered them!”

Ellianne felt better knowing that her sister had not forsaken her loyalty entirely, only her wits. “I got one, but could not read it. But why, love, why?”

“Because Aunt Augusta would not let me marry my dear captain. There was a terrible row, and then she told me to leave her house. You see, I told her I was breeding so she would have to let us announce the betrothal so we could go about together. But she washed her hands of me instead. She was so angry, I feared for her heart, so I packed and went to Daniel's rooms. His landlady would not let me in, however, so I left a note and went to a hotel. Do you know most will not rent rooms to a single woman?”

Brisbane was in despair. “I never got that note, either! My poor darling, lost and alone!”

“Oh, I hired an old woman to pretend to be my second cousin, so the next hotel manager let me stay. The next afternoon, though, you still had not come. I read the newspapers, and they spoke of Aunt Augusta's death, and that I might have had a hand in it. I swear, Ellie, I didn't.”

“I never thought you did, love. And she was a horrid old woman anyway, throwing her own niece out in the night! But do go on. How did you come to be here?”

“I was afraid others might suspect me. And…and that Daniel did not wish to be connected to such a scandal.”

Brisbane groaned. “How could you doubt my
love?”

“Because you did not come to the hotel, silly. Then I remembered this place, and thought I could stay here, with no one the wiser, while I decided what to do. I told the old couple that I was your mistress, Lord Strickland, and I am sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry over. Glad I could help.” And proud that someone might think the pretty redhead was in his keeping. He wiped away his grin when Gwen poked him in the ribs.

Ellianne was shaking her head. “But I still do not understand. Why didn't you just come home? If your young man truly loved you he would have followed.”

“I was ashamed and afraid.” Isabelle clutched Brisbane's hand, but she also touched her stomach. “You see, I really am breeding.”

Gwen swooned. Strickland caught her.

“Fainting is a family trait, I daresay,” Ellianne said, before she started beating Captain Brisbane about the head with her reticule. Since she no longer carried her pistol, her fury had almost no effect.

Stony pulled her away anyhow. “Remember he was concussed. And you need him to give your new niece or nephew a name.”

“And I love him,” Isabelle stated. “I knew it was wrong, but I do not regret giving myself to the only man I will ever love. I know Aunt Lally would never approve, but I hope you can forgive me someday.”

“Aunt Lally is back in town dallying with Timms, so you can forget about her censure.”

“Really? Anyway, I know you cannot understand, Ellie, never having known a grand passion, but it is wonderful and overwhelming and irresistible. I regret nothing.”

Ellianne did understand. And she regretted that she and Stony could not stay on in the Richmond cottage when the others drove back to town.

Chapter Thirty-One

Stony
had had enough. He had waited long enough, watching all the happy reunions. Now it was his turn.

He pulled the curricle off the London road and headed toward a small inn he knew in a nearby village.

“But the others will not know where we are,” Ellianne protested.

“Good.”

“But Isabelle will worry.”

“After leaving you fretting for months? Good.” Besides, he doubted the captain and his bride-to-be would notice if the entire population of the south of England went missing, since they were alone in the carriage. Gwen and Strickland had decided to stay on in Richmond, after all, so Gwen could make some refurbishing decisions. Hah! The only thing she was deciding was whether she should marry by special license or have the banns called. Brisbane and Isabelle had no choice. A messenger was already on his way to procure a hasty permit from the archbishop's office. This was one messenger who would not go astray, not with what Ellianne was paying him.

Stony knew that as soon as they reached Sloane
Street, Ellianne would be busy celebrating her sister's return, then planning the removal to Fairview for the wedding. He would not have a moment of her time for days or weeks. Another hour was fifty minutes too long.

“Besides,” he told her, “I am starving.”

“I suppose we did miss nuncheon, but Isabelle offered us tea.”

“I am not hungry for a meal.”

Ellianne untied her hat when he feathered the corner into the inn yard. Dessert sounded just fine.

The innkeeper was reluctant to give them a private parlor. “I don't hold with no loose goings-on, and that's a fact, viscount or not, my lord.”

Stony whispered, but loudly enough for Ellianne to hear, “I hope to make an honest woman of her eventually.”

The innkeeper was still dubious. He looked at Ellianne, all ablush and her hair blowing down her back. “Redheaded women are nothing but trouble.”

“Amen to that,” Stony said, not bothering to lower his voice at all. “But she is rich. Very rich.”