HisLadysKeeperfinal.wps

His Lady’s Keeper

By

Marly Mathews

HIS LADY’S KEEPER Marly Mathews 2

© copyright by Marly Mathews, Jan. 2009

Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, Jan. 2009

ISBN 978-1-60394-260-7

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

HIS LADY’S KEEPER Marly Mathews 3

England, 1822

“Mallory’s home, he’s back from sea!” Gemma St. Martin watched her younger sisters dash through their old damp family castle, headed toward Mallory, and his pretty young wife.

Only Ann, the sister next in birth order to her remained behind. Their mother rushed out of her morning room, stopping briefly to regard them.

“Allow me to ascertain the situation first, Gemma, dear, before you make your appearance. I shall see for myself what sort of a woman this Elizabeth Caulfield truly is.”

“Mother, her name is Elizabeth St. Martin now,” Gemma said gently, watching her mother’s face flash briefly with deep sorrow.

“I know.” She sighed. “I must remember that she is indeed Mallory’s wife. Why did he have to marry her at sea? Couldn’t he have put it off long enough to announce the banns and do everything the traditional way?”

“I guess he ruined her honor so he had to make her respectable,” Ann said softly.

Gemma could see how it pained her to realize that her surviving son had made their sworn enemy’s daughter his duchess. Her mother’s face drained of color.

“I shan’t know why he would do this to us, but we must be brave, my darling girls. The younger ones, especially those younger than you, Ann and Maud don’t really understand what this means for the family and how it will impact our way of life.” Their mother stepped toward them taking their hands into hers. “You’ve been brave young women these last few years, helping me to run what is left of our estate, and I want you to both know how much I appreciate you.”

“We know, mother.” Ann sounded choked up.

“He’s going to take us away from this place. As soon as he remembers how old and dilapidated it is, he’ll whisk us off to one of our more stylish estates, now that he has them back. No wonder Old Caulfield never wanted this terrible place, it’s barely staying together,” Gemma sighed.

“Terrible or not, it’s the original seat of the St. Martin power and glory. William the Conqueror himself gave these lands to your ancestors. In its day this castle saw many kings and queens, we should be proud of its history.”

“We are, mother. But Mallory isn’t. We’ll never be as happy as we were here again.” Gemma sighed mournfully.

Her mother’s gaze rested on her. “Gemma, you shall be happy again, our little piece of heaven on Earth couldn’t last forever. These should have been the most trying years of our lives, and yet, through the hardships, my daughters became good women. I am so happy for that. You both have level heads on your shoulders, and even though your life is about to change, you must always remember that Mallory loves you all.”

“He has a funny way of showing that by flaunting that woman in our face. She’s the daughter of the man that ruined us! That fat pig, Geoffrey Caulfield put father into an HIS LADY’S KEEPER Marly Mathews 4

early grave—and now, I’m supposed to embrace his spawn and call her sister?”

“She didn’t choose her father, Gemma. You shall do well to remember that. I don’t want either one of you snubbing Elizabeth. Nor do I expect you to call her sister until she has earned that coveted place in your heart. You will be civil and you will grace her with all of the ladylike manners I tried so hard to instill in all of you. Please don’t let me down.”

“We won’t mother,” Ann said, darting a furtive glance at Gemma.

Gemma smiled at Ann and then at her mother. “Of course we won’t … but who’s going to make sure that Elizabeth doesn’t let you down?” Gemma grumbled.

Their mother gave them a quick kiss and then walked toward the once grand

entryway. Mallory had just stepped inside of the castle.

“Mother!” His voice boomed out at her.

“Mallory, my dear boy.” She embraced Mallory, forcing Mallory to release his hold on Elizabeth.

Elizabeth stepped further into the entryway, and at that precise moment their gazes locked. Gemma bowed her head at her, forcing a smile for her new sister-in-law’s benefit. Elizabeth returned the smile with a curt nod. She nodded at her! Good lord!

“Gemma, come and step out of the shadows,” Mallory said. She obeyed her

brother, wincing as the bright sunlight hit her full on in the face. “Elizabeth, this is my sister Gemma. She’s the eldest sister, and as a matter of fact, I think you and she will take to each other like ducks to water.”

“Don’t bet on it,” Gemma mumbled.

Elizabeth shivered. Mallory caught the shiver, and reached out for her pulling her close. “Don’t worry, Elizabeth, we’ll leave this place as soon as we can get the family packed up. I wouldn’t want you to have to live in this old moldy castle.”

Gemma’s heart sunk down into the pit of her stomach. Mallory had done exactly what she’d predicted, all to please his little wife.

Life as they knew it was over.

The enemy was in her house, and now, she had to call that enemy family.

She’d never forgive Mallory—not for as long as she lived.

HIS LADY’S KEEPER Marly Mathews 5

Chapter
One

Scotland, 1824

Lady Gemma St. Martin was a woman that lived outside the conventions of her society. She dared to do what women weren’t supposed to do and she balked at the rigidity of her position as a Duke’s daughter, even though she embraced the benefits her noble position afforded her.

The strong wind whipped her long blond plait back into the wind. The riding hat she wore blew off of her head and fell around her shoulders. She felt so free when she rode through the forest that bordered their highland estate. She rode toward the loch, where she intended to have a nice afternoon dip. It would cool her off after her long ride.

Despite her brother’s protestations, she rode alone. He hated the thought of her being without a chaperone, especially since it was rumored that highwaymen had taken up residence not too far from Mallory Hall. But since he’d married Elizabeth, he’d become a lot less controlling, and for that she would always be immensely grateful to his wife. If nothing else, Elizabeth’s presence was a calming influence on Mallory. Over the last two years, she and Elizabeth had come to an understanding, Elizabeth stayed out of her business, and she stayed out of hers. So far, it had been a smashing success.

Gemma leaned forward on her horse and stroked Midnight’s mane. She could

beat any other rider on her mare. No one could stand against them.

She emerged into the clearing, and stared at the peaceful loch rippling before her.

Dismounting her horse, she shook out her riding skirts and tried to tuck her plait back up under her hat. The cool air made goose bumps erupt across her flesh. Perhaps, she’d forego on her dip into the lake after all. Holding the reins to Midnight, she started to walk toward the loch. She reached for a blanket from one of her saddlebags and laid it out on the sandy beach. The mountains in the distance caught her eye. Sighing, she settled herself on the blanket and stared up at the white clouds in the sky.

A rustling sound in the near distance made her snap out of her reverie. Sitting up, she looked over to Midnight.

“Did you hear that?” she asked Midnight. Her horse neighed and turned toward the bush. Stiffening, she stood up and in a moment, she’d hoisted herself up in the saddle.

“I’d stay right where you are, if I were you.” A deep husky voice made her sit up straight in the saddle. The voice came from behind her. Fighting the urge to turn around, she bit her lip and prepared to take flight as soon as she could. “Unless you’d like a bullet in your back, my lady, I’d stay right where you are. I have need of that beautiful piece of horseflesh you ride.” His voice affected her in a way she was quite unprepared for.

Remaining silent, she listened as soft footsteps approached her. In the blink of an eye, the man stood in front of her, holding his pistol steady in his hands.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into! You obviously have
no
idea who I am.” She tried to sound regal and influential but doubted she was pulling it off.

“Oh, I think I have a fair idea. By the looks of you, you came from Mallory Hall.

With those fine clothes you’re wearing, you must be some sort of a grand lady. And with your cultured British accent, I can tell you were not raised in these parts. If you were, I’d HIS LADY’S KEEPER Marly Mathews 6

already know you.”

She stared at the mask he wore. His thick Scottish brogue belied his heritage.

“For a man who knows so much, you know very little. You are a coward for

hiding behind that mask. Only a man weak in the knees would stoop so low.”

He laughed. “A coward isn’t something I’ve ever been called. Alas, I’ve been called a great many things, but never, never a coward!” His voice took on a dangerous edge. A shiver ran up and down her spine.

“You give me that horse, or so help me, I will shoot you!”

“Only a man without honor would shoot an unarmed woman.” Stealthily, she

reached down to the side of Midnight, where the saddlebag hung that held her lady’s pistol. Her brother insisted that if she rode alone, she didn’t ride unarmed.

“You do look familiar. With those eyes like green sparkling jewels, and that Saxon blond hair of yours, you make a right lovely young lass. I could do with having a tumble with you in the sand.”

“Keep dreaming.” She just needed to strain her fingers a bit further … she’d have the pistol in her hands before she knew it.

“I’d like to see that other wayward hand of yours.” He directed his gaze to where her hand searched in her saddlebag. “Stop bobbing it about in that bag and show me your pretty little hand.”

“Would you? Why?” She asked, adding an innocent air of sweetness to her voice.

“Because I have a thing for hands … especially when they could be reaching for a weapon. Get to it, show me that dainty little hand of yours, little lady.”

She had it.

Her fingers touched cold steel. When she pulled her hand out of the saddlebag it clasped the pistol tightly. Before he could react, she had it leveled at him.

His black eyes twinkled. “What do you intend to do with that, my lady? I don’t think you have the guts to spill my blood. And, I’d make a fair bet that I’m a quicker shot than you, with probably a steadier aim.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised about what I’m capable of. My brother has a reputation for being a dangerous man and he taught me how to defend myself against bloody blackguards like you. If he was here, he’d wipe the ground with you,” her voice trembled. Not with fear, but with anticipation. What was wrong with her? The man was trying to steal her horse, and yet, all she could think about was how attractive he looked in the tight trousers he wore. She had to be losing her mind.

“And would your brother happen to be that grand blond haired, English duke that just took up residence at Mallory Hall with his raven haired wife? In his fine clothes, I’d warrant I’d be the one besting him if we got into fisticuffs. He’s just such a little dandy.

I doubt he’d even know how to block a punch.” His eyes danced with humor.

“You seem to know a lot about my family for being a common outlaw.” Snorting, she was reassured by the cool steel of the pistol’s trigger pressing against her finger.