Ambersley (Lords of London) (23 page)

Derek stilled at the betrayal reflected in Johnny’s blue-green eyes. But the boy was right—an hour ago Derek had planned on dispatching him in a duel. It seemed fantastic now. They’d known each other so long. The boy couldn’t be guilty of such a deed, but if he weren’t—

“
You’re right. I wanted to kill you for what you did to Olivia. Tell me the truth for I couldn’t draw a coherent answer from her. Did you take her virginity?”

Johnny raised solemn eyes to Derek’s face while her skin grew clammy. No wonder he was furious. What could have prompted Olivia to say such a thing?

Derek read the boy’s answer in those amazed, disbelieving eyes, but he needed to be sure. “Did you?” he prodded.

“
No. Did she say that?”

“
Yes, after Mother and Curtis—”

Johnny’s eyes rolled upwards even as his lids closed. The look was not lost on Derek. And then the truth burst on him. While Olivia adored Johnny, she idolized Curtis as only a sixteen-year-old girl could love her devoted older brother. Torn between the two young men, Olivia had obviously chosen sides last night. And of course, his stepmother had always hated Johnny. Realizing he might have killed an innocent, Derek raised an anguished hand to cover his face.

With an effort, Johnny focused on the duke. He’d hidden his face, unwilling to look at her. The smell of her own blood made her stomach roll, but she fought down the nausea. He still didn’t know her secret, and it was now vital that she explain. “There’s something I must tell you.” She was interrupted as Rory joined them.

“
Shhh, lie quietly for a moment, Johnny.” Derek gave ground to the servant. Rising, he wiped his damp face on his sleeve.

Rory ripped open the shirt along the tear in the left side. At the sight of torn bandages beneath the shirt, he ran a hand through his silver hair. “What the…” Withdrawing a knife from his coat, he deftly cut through the bandages.

Johnny tried desperately to remain conscious long enough to tell the duke…to explain…if Rory would only give her a minute…

At the servant’s loud gasp, Derek wheeled around to find Rory shaking his head in bemusement. “He’s a she,” the groom stated.

Derek looked down at the shapely white breast surrounded by blood-soaked bandages then raised his gaze to Johnny’s face. It was the same face, and yet, it was a girl’s face. It was so obviously a girl’s face. Tears glistened in her aqua eyes.

His mind whirled. Were Johnny a girl, then everything he knew was wrong. Were Johnny a girl, she was clearly innocent of his family’s lies. Yet Olivia had stood in his office and wept and accused, no doubt goaded by Curtis and Rosalie. His darling unspoiled sister, Olivia. And he’d been so sure she would never be false like other women in his life.

Derek gave vent to his anger with a single curse. “Damn all women for the liars they are!”

It was the last thing Johnny heard before she lost consciousness.

~

Harry dozed fitfully in the coach, until a rut in the road brought an end to his dreams. It took but a moment for him to gain his bearings and recall why he wasn’t drowning in the comfort of his own bed with the curtains drawn against the sunrise.

“
Where are we?” he asked his mother.

“
We just passed through Ambersham.” Prim and pressed, no one would ever guess he’d roused her from her sleep hours before and dragged her on this rescue mission. She shook her head, her lips in an uncharacteristic frown. “That poor child, masquerading as a boy all this time.”

“
If Cushing’s account of the situation is accurate, Johnny’s revealed her identity by now.”

The coach swept over the dew-covered countryside, slowing only to rattle across the old wooden bridge that marked the beginning of the Ambersley property. Not long after, the coachman pulled up the horses.

Harry leaned his head out the window as the coach swayed to a stop. Already, Cushing was clambering down from the perch seat.

“
It’s the Master,” Cushing said as he yanked open the coach door. “I fear his temper’s led him to something awful.”

Harry jumped down. “Stay here with Mother.”

With long strides, he approached the scene. A trio of saddled horses stood tied to a thicket of small trees. On a grassy knoll two men knelt over a third person. As Harry drew close enough to recognize his cousin and the silver-haired groom, Derek rose and cursed.

Johnny lay limp on the ground surrounded by blood-stained bandages. Fearing the worst, Harry ran the last few paces. “Did you kill her?”

Derek spun around, surprise widening his furious eyes. “You knew about her?” He barked a bitter laugh. “Fear not. She’ll live.”

“
Thank God for that.”

His face a scowling mask, Derek strode past him toward the horses.

“
Derek, wait. We need to talk.”

“
Not now, Harry,” Derek bit out as he mounted his horse. “First, I need to talk with
my family
!” His frayed temper split on the last two words.

With ease of practice, Harry withstood his cousin’s storm. “And what shall I do with her?” He pointed to the prone figure, but his gaze never wavered from Derek’s flinty eyes.

“
Do as you damn well please!” Derek wheeled his horse and galloped across the field.

Chapter 11

Derek stormed the front door of the Dower House, which brought Stokes running into the main hall.

“
Your Grace!” Shock painted the footman’s features.

“
I want to see Lady Vaughan. Now.”

Indecision flickered in Stokes’s eyes. “She’s still abed.”

“
Wake her!”

With barely a nod, the footman ran up the stairs to find the maid to wake the mistress.

Derek cooled his heels in the ivory drawing room, though his temper burned unchecked. It flared again when his stepmother arrived.

Her fingers still fumbled with the sash of her wrapper, her dark hair with its hints of gray was pulled into a soft braid that fell over one shoulder. She hadn’t even drawn slippers on her feet. “Why, Derek, whatever is amiss?”

Her outward guile might have fooled him, but for the gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

“
Pack your things. You and your children leave Ambersley today, and I never want you to return.”

Her jaw tilted open. Gathering her wits, she regarded him with more caution. “You cannot mean that. What has happened? What have you
done
?”

“
Did you think I wouldn’t uncover the truth?” he said. “The three of you conspiring to destroy a poor servant boy?”

From the doorway, he heard a soft gasp. Olivia, her reddened eyes beseeching from her pale face, stepped forward. “No, tell me you didn’t hurt him. It was all a lie, Derek. I’m so sorry!” She covered her face with her hands and burst into fresh tears.

Behind her, Curtis appeared, his face likewise pale, his dark hair rumpled. He placed comforting hands on Olivia’s shoulders, and she turned her face into his chest and wept. He watched Derek over her black curls, his eyes unblinking.

Derek matched his unwavering gaze, man to man. “Remember this as the day you betrayed not only me but your conscience as well.”

Curtis said nothing, but the early morning sun revealed a glistening of moisture in his eyes.

“
Lud, Derek, all this drama.” Rosalie drew his attention back to her as she sank into a chair. “They weren’t all lies. Curtis did find the boy in Olivia’s room. Who knows what nefarious purpose he planned? But I suppose he’s convinced you of his innocence,” she said with a bored sigh, “and you’ve found some way to reward him.”

“
The boy has been dispatched,” he said coldly. “All that remains is to deal with you.”

“
Dispatched?” She looked up, her eyes narrowing. “Do you mean—?”

Olivia issued another sobbing wail.

“
I’ll not discuss it more. Pack your things and go. I’ll arrange an allowance—”

With growing agitation, Rosalie stood. “You cannot do this.”

“
This morning of all mornings, do
not
attempt to tell me what I may or may not do.”

“
But you’re not yourself. Look at you, disheveled and bloody.” Her eyes widened as she catalogued that detail. “These fits of tempers will lead you to madness and murder, if they haven’t already. Admit it, Derek, ’tis time you give over the title to Curtis.”

Derek released his pent up fury on a bitter laugh. “Like hell.”

The demonic vow drove Olivia to hide her face in her brother’s shoulder again, but Rosalie never cowed. “You cannot refuse this. You’ve denied him his due long enough. He’s of age now, and the Vaughan title deserves Vaughan blood.”

He turned on her as a hungry lion would stalk prey. “Did you think of that when you asked me to spill Johnny’s Vaughan blood? How can you ask me to believe any of you give a damn about what it means to be a Vaughan?”

“
And what of your noble promises to fulfill your duty? To do what’s right for the peerage? I’ve been patient. I’ve waited
years
. For what, to have you forswear us now?”

“
I forswear nothing,” Derek growled. “You’ve brought this upon yourselves, with your lies and deceit. Curtis has proven he’s not mature enough for the responsibilities Ambersley demands, nor will he ever be so long as you have his ear. He must first learn to be a man before he will ever be a duke.”

Rosalie vented a frustrated whine. “I could destroy you—”

“
Try it,” Derek said. “But I warn you, publicly discredit me, and I’ll cut you off without a farthing.”

This silenced her.

His fury spent, Derek’s words calmed. “You’ve crossed me and forced me to choose. Someone must protect the people of Ambersley from your—and your children’s—machinations. To play with people’s lives—” He shook his head, ruing his own actions.

“
Now pack your things and go. I have much to do to reconcile the events of last night and this morning.” No one stopped him as he left the house.

He returned to the meadow, but found it empty. The only sign of the dawn’s furious struggle was a torn piece of muslin stained with blood.

Derek brought the fabric to his lips and closed his eyes. He’d nearly committed a heinous crime, but he vowed to redeem himself by championing Ambersley from all threats. His family had nearly destroyed him. Opening his eyes, he focused on the muslin in his hand. Anger kindled anew at the memory of Johnny’s betrayal. A girl! The magnitude of her lie still astounded him. That Harry had also known only injured him more.

He released the scrap of fabric and stood alone, desolate, as it fluttered away on the breeze.

~

Enveloped in the downy security of a soft bed, Johnny came to slowly. A fire burned low in the grate, and a crisp morning breeze stirred the curtains with scents that were foreign to her. Wary, she would have sat up but for the sharp pain knitting her side. Images assailed her—the duke’s accusations, a duel, blood, Rory bending over her, traveling in a coach and—

“
Harry.” Had it been a horrible dream? The last she knew, Mr. Harry was in France.

From the foot of her bed came a shuffling sound, and Harry bent over her. “You’re awake,” he noted with relief. “I feared the barber gave you too much laudanum.”

Johnny searched his weary blue eyes for disdain or reproach, but he was the same Harry she’d always remembered. Except, she’d never seen his blonde hair so disheveled nor his shirt and neck cloth so rumpled.

As her memory slowly assembled the chain of events, one moment sparked with the clarity and fire of a prism. When the duke had discovered her secret, he’d been shocked and then enraged.
Damn all women for the liars they are!
He hated her—and with good reason. Every day she’d spent with him, she’d lied. He valued honesty. She’d betrayed him, and he would never forgive her.