Deadly Peril (51 page)
“An excellent notion, my love. I shall match the sum. Your aunt does not believe me when I say I am happy to rusticate at Delvin for the foreseeable future.”
“Oh, until the babe is born, to be sure,” Selina agreed, then showed her husband a marked lack of loyalty by confiding in her aunt, “Truthfully, I have grave doubts he’ll last out the full term. I foresee we will be in London well before Easter.”
“Selina! You wretch! I am looking forward to doing nothing more than sitting on the terrace with Cosmo, surveying my sheep.”
“Surveying your sheep? Oh dear, that does sound rather dreary, my boy,” Olivia agreed, and exchanged a giggle with her niece.
“I rest my case,” Selina quipped, laughed, and when Alec pulled a face, kissed his cheek.
Before he could make a suitable retort there was a commotion at the double doors, and those present in the room who were seated stood to welcome the newest member of Margrave Viktor’s family, his three-week-old half-brother, Carl Philip Rosine Müller, created Count Emden the day of his birth, the day Castle Herzfeld was stormed. He was being carried by his proud father, the Countess Rosine at his side. They came up to Alec and Selina, family and guests crowding in to have a peek at the sleeping infant.
“We have a favor to ask of you, Herr Baron,” the Countess Rosine said, a glance up at her husband, who smiled down at her. “We would be honored if you would be our son’s godfather.”
“You must say yes!” Prince Viktor stuck in, coming to stand on Alec’s other side and gripping his shoulder. “Of course he says yes!”
“If that is your wish, yes,” Alec agreed. He looked from General Müller to the Countess. “You are certain?”
“Certain!? There is no question. My half-brother must have the Baron Aurich as his godfather. Is that not so, Herr General?”
“Yes. It is what we both want,” General Müller agreed. “Regardless of my stepson’s wishes.”
“Then it is settled. And to celebrate this most auspicious of occasions, we shall have dancing,” Viktor announced.
Everyone applauded, and servants were quick to clear the center of the room of card tables, chairs, and footstools. The musicians, who had been playing quietly in the background, now tuned their instruments and organized their sheet music for a set of country dances. The nobles chose their partners, Viktor taking out his mother for the first set, and Emily quick to partner up with Cosmo, who was at first a little reluctant to be involved, until Emily whispered in his ear something that made him laugh and shake his head and consent.
“I think Cosmo is going to be all right, Selina.” Alec smiled, watching his best friend lead Emily to join the line of dancers. “It may take months to put the fat back on him, but it was his mind that had me most worried… But I think he will mend, with our help.”
Selina put her arm through his and snuggled in. “Yes. I think you will, too.”
He frowned and looked down at her. “You think me in need of mending?”
Selina’s dark eyes sparkled. “Not mending. But being all right. Being yourself again. Others obviously think you are all right because you have that sort of face—”
“Sort of face…?”
“—that makes new parents want you as godfather for their infants. You do realize this is the second time you’ve been made a godfather in less than six months!? First Cleveley’s infant, Thomas, and now little Carl Philip. I’d say that shows you have the sort of face that reflects what’s inside here,” she said, placing her hand on his black velvet and silver brocade waistcoat, over his heart. “You engender confidence, compassion, loyalty, honor, love… What more could a parent want from a godfather for their infant?”
Alec caught Selina to him and kissed her, not caring they were in a public room full of people. “My dear Lady Halsey, and I thought you’d fallen in love with me because of my looks; your brother Talgarth calls me Apollo…”
Selina pressed herself against him. “Yes, but now that I have you all to myself—forever—it’s what you have in your heart that matters most, and that’s why you’ll be all right, too.” She rallied, saying cheekily, “But it is because you are the person you are, that I don’t believe for a moment you will be happy counting your sheep. I’ll wager the first letter that comes your way asking for your help, or seeking your advice, it will be ‘Farewell Kent, and how may I help you, London?!’ But this time it will be different—”
“—because you will be there right beside me in the carriage, helping too.”
“Yes,” she said softly, and kissed him again, placing his hand to her belly. “We both will…”
~ T
HE
E
ND
~
…until the Halsey family’s next adventure in
Deadly Kin
.
Continue reading to further explore behind-the-scenes of
Deadly Peril
or
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Salt Bride
, a romantic suspense set in the same Georgian world as the Alec Halsey series.
Alec Halsey comes to life in audio—details at lucindabrant.com
Continue on to explore behind-the-scenes of
Deadly Peril
.
Salt Bride
A GEORGIAN HISTORICAL ROMANCE
Salt Hendon Series—Book 1
W
HEN
THE
Earl of Salt Hendon marries squire’s daughter Jane Despard, Society is aghast. But Jane and Lord Salt share a secret past of heartache and mistrust. Four years on, they are forced into a marriage neither wants; the Earl to honor a dying man’s wish; Jane to save her stepbrother from financial ruin. Beautiful inside and out, the patient and ever optimistic Jane believes love conquers all; the Earl will take some convincing. Enter Diana St. John, who has been living in a fool’s paradise believing she would be the next Countess of Salt Hendon. She will go to extreme lengths, even murder, to hold the Earl’s attention. Can the newlyweds overcome past prejudices and sinister opposition to fall in love all over again?
LONDON, ENGLAND,
1763
‘
T
OM
,
DO
I
HAVE
A
DOWRY
?” Jane asked her stepbrother, turning away from a window being hit hard with rain.
Tom Allenby glanced uneasily at his mother, who was pouring him out a second dish of Bohea tea. “Dowry? Of course you have a dowry, Jane.”
Jane wasn’t so sure. When her father disowned her four years ago, he cut her off without a penny.
“What is the amount?”
Tom blinked. His discomfort increased. “Amount?”
“Ten thousand pounds,” Lady Despard stated, a sulky glance at her stepdaughter. Annoyance showed itself in the rough way she handled the slices of seedy cake onto small blue-and-white Worcester porcelain plates. “Though why Tom feels the need to provide you with a dowry when you’re marrying the richest man in Wiltshire, I’ll never fathom. To a moneybags nobleman, ten thousand is but a drop in the Bristol River.”
“
Mamma
,” Tom said in an under voice, close-shaven cheeks burning with color. “I believe I can spare Jane ten thousand when I am to inherit ten times that amount.” He regarded his stepsister with a hesitant smile. “It’s a fair dowry, isn’t it, Jane?”
But Lady Despard was right. Ten thousand pounds wasn’t much of a dowry to bring to a marriage with a nobleman who reportedly had an income of thirty thousand pounds a year. Yet Jane hated to see her stepbrother miserable. Poor Tom. The terms of Jacob Allenby’s will had disturbed his well-ordered world.
“Of course it’s a fair dowry, Tom. It is more than fair, it is
very
generous,” she answered kindly.
She retreated once more to the window with its view of London’s bleak winter skies and gray buildings and wished for the sun to show itself, if but briefly, to melt the hard January frost. Tom could then take her riding about the Green Park. Somehow, she had to escape the confines of this unfamiliar townhouse crawling with nameless soft-footed servants.
But there was no escaping tomorrow. Tomorrow she was to be married. Tomorrow she would be made a countess. Tomorrow she became
respectable
.
Tom followed her across the drawing room to the window seat that overlooked busy Arlington Street and sat beside her.
“Listen, Jane,” he said gruffly. “You needn’t rush into this marriage just for my benefit. Attorneys for Uncle’s estate said there is still time…”
“It’s perfectly all right, Tom,” Jane assured him with a soft smile. “The sooner I’m married the sooner you inherit what is rightfully yours and can get on with your life. You have factories to run and workers who are relying on you to pay their long overdue wages. It was wrong of Mr. Allenby to leave his manufacturing concerns and his estate to you without any monies for their upkeep. You shouldn’t be forced to foreclose, or to sell your birthright. Those poor souls who make your blue glass need to be paid so they can feed their families. Should they be made destitute, all because your uncle willed his capital to me? You are his only male relative, and you have an obligation to those who now work for you. We know why your uncle made you assets rich but cash poor, why he left his capital to me—because he hoped to force a union between us.”
“Why not? Why not marry me, Jane?”
“Because despite being my brother
in law
, you’ve been my little brother since I can remember, and that will never change,” Jane explained kindly. “I love you as a sister loves a brother, and that is why I cannot marry you.”
“But what of Uncle’s will?” Tom asked lamely, not forcing the argument because he knew she was right.
“We have been over this with Mr. Allenby’s attorneys,” Jane answered patiently. “The will does not specifically mention that I must marry you, Tom, and so we are not obligated to do so. That was an oversight on your uncle’s part. The attorneys say that I may marry
any man,
and the one hundred thousand pounds will then be released in your favor.”
“Any man?” Tom gave a huff of embarrassed anger. “But you are not marrying just
any man
, Jane. You are marrying the Earl of Salt Hendon! I cannot allow you to make such a sacrifice. It is not right. Surely something can be worked out. We just need time.”
“Time? It has now been
three
months since Mr. Allenby died and you cannot keep putting off your creditors. How much do you owe, Tom? How long do you think you can go on before you must sell assets to meet your debts?” Jane forced herself to smile brightly. “Besides, is it such a sacrifice to be elevated from squire’s daughter to wife of the Earl of Salt Hendon? I shall be a countess!”
“Wife of a nobleman who is marrying you because he gave his word to your dying father and feels honor-bound to do so,” Tom grumbled. “Not because he wants or loves you… Oh, Jane! Forgive me,” he apologized just as quickly, realizing his offence. “You know I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t apologize for the truth, Tom. Yes, I am marrying a man who does not care two figs for me, but in doing so my conscience is clear.”
“Well, if you won’t marry me, then marriage to a titled lothario is better than you remaining unmarried,” her stepbrother said in an abrupt about-face that widened Jane’s blue eyes. “Only a husband’s protection will fend off lecherous dogs. Living unmarried in a cottage on the estate was all well and good while Uncle Jacob was alive to protect you. But even he was powerless the one and only time you ventured beyond the park. You became fair game for every depraved scoundrel riding the Salt Hunt.” Tom squeezed her hand. “Uncle showed more restraint than I. I’d have shot those lascivious swine as let them take you for a harlot.”
That humiliating incident had occurred two years ago but the memory remained painfully raw for Jane. What Tom did not know was that the lascivious swine of which he spoke were in truth the Earl of Salt Hendon and his friends. On the edge of the copse, with her basket of field mushrooms over her arm and dangling her bonnet by its silk ribbons, she had not immediately recognized the Earl astride his favorite hunter, with a full beard and his light chestnut hair tumbled about his shoulders.
