Love Inspired Historical March 2014 Bundle: Winning Over the Wrangler\Wolf Creek Homecoming\A Bride for the Baron\The Guardian's Promise (68 page)

Tidings? What wonderful tidings?

As the men disappeared from view, Vera tiptoed down the stairs. The footman had taken Sir Nigel's hat and coat away, so nobody saw her sneak after Edmund and Sir Nigel.

They entered the small parlor, and she heard the surprise in Sir Nigel's voice when Lord Northbridge and Jonathan greeted him. Whatever he had come to talk about with Edmund, he must have assumed it would only be the two of them. She moved closer to the door.

A maid came along the corridor, carrying a tray with refreshments for the meeting.

Vera put her finger to her lips, then glanced at the small parlor.

The maid nodded and walked into the room without acknowledging Vera. Maybe the servants were more aware of what was going on than she had guessed.

Vera almost called the maid back when she saw a flash of silver on the tray. Why did the maid have the silver flask that had been dug out of the vicarage garden?

Suddenly Mrs. Uppington rushed past Vera who backed up to avoid being run over. Edmund's aunt hurried into the room.

“Is it true, Eddie?” Mrs. Uppington asked, excitement heightening her voice. “Are you making an offer for a bride tonight?”

A bride? Vera leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. Was that why Sir Nigel was at Meriweather Hall? To arrange the details for Lillian to marry Edmund?

No, something was not right. Even if Edmund did eventually offer for Lillian, he would not be meeting with Sir Nigel about that on the very night when the baronet had given orders to kidnap her brother and kill Lord Ashland.

“Aunt Belinda,” Edmund was saying when she could hear past her thudding pulse, “I must ask your indulgence to allow us men to discuss this.”

“Men! What do you know of weddings?” There was a pause, and Vera could envision Mrs. Uppington's face brightening with what she would deem a good idea. “There is one man who knows all about weddings. Let me get the vicar.”

Edmund's voice grew taut. “The vicar is not available.”

“But he is! I saw him on my way down here. He was—” Mrs. Uppington screamed.

The maid did, too.

Vera pushed closer to the doorway and stared at a horrifying tableau. Sir Nigel held Mrs. Uppington by the arm and was pressing a pistol to her temple. Lord Northbridge and Jonathan stared, clearly not daring to move a muscle. The maid had swooned, dropping the tray and its contents, including the silver flask, to the floor.

She saw all that in a single glance before her gaze focused on Edmund. He stood inches from his aunt's outstretched fingers. Fury, unlike any she had ever seen, twisted his mouth, but his eyes had that haunted expression she saw each time he was faced with a decision.

“There is no need for this,” he said, and Vera wondered if everyone else sensed he was stalling for time.

“No?” Sir Nigel kicked the silver flask away and snapped a curse before snarling, “You thought you were clever by inviting me here on the pretense that you wanted to make an offer for my niece, didn't you, Meriweather? You and your friends. Bah! You think you're great heroes, but you haven't been able to see the truth under your own noses. You are no better than Ashland who pretended to be my ally before showing his true colors.” He gave a maniacal laugh. “He learned his lesson. Now you will learn yours.”

“Let my aunt go.” Edmund spoke calmly. “There is no reason to frighten her. This is between us, Tresting. Let us handle it like gentlemen.”

“Gentlemen?” he spat. “You are no gentleman, just a common laborer who has been raised above his station.”

Lord Northbridge started to protest the insult, but Edmund silenced him with a single twitch of his finger. His friends exchanged a look she could not interpret. Some message had been passed between them. She thanked God that the men had learned to communicate without words in battle.

On the floor, the maid stirred. She opened her eyes and shrieked, flinging out her hands and feet. One of them struck Sir Nigel's leg, knocking him off balance.

Edmund grabbed his aunt's hand and tugged her away, shoving her behind a chair. As the maid scrambled to get behind another, Sir Nigel grabbed her arm and jerked her to her feet.

“I may have been raised as a common laborer, but I know a gentleman does not hide behind an innocent woman,” Edmund said with cool dignity. When Sir Nigel swung the pistol toward him, he added, “Nor does he kill an unarmed man. Or should I say try to kill? You do know that the Earl of Northbridge is an excellent shot, don't you?”

Vera glanced across the room. Like Sir Nigel, she had not noticed in the chaos when the maid regained her senses that Lord Northbridge had drawn a pistol of his own. It was as steady as the stones beneath the manor house and aimed at the baronet.

“Will he try to kill me, Meriweather, at the same time I shoot you dead?” Sir Nigel asked. “What say you, Northbridge?”

The earl lowered his weapon but held it at the ready.

“It seems our business for tonight is concluded.” The baronet stepped back, pulling the struggling maid with him. He was not young, but his determination to escape with his life added strength to his grip on the girl.

No one else in the parlor moved as Sir Nigel edged toward the door. With a sudden motion, he spun, shoved the maid forward and ran out of the room. He did not look in Vera's direction as he fled toward the back of the house.

“Vera!”

She looked up at Edmund's drawn face as his friends ran past him. Questions filled his eyes.

“Go to your room,” he ordered. “Lock the door and wait there until one of us comes to tell you it is safe.”

He turned to follow his friends, then whirled to capture her by the shoulders and give her a swift, fiery kiss. He released her and was gone before she could urge him to stay safe himself.

Hearing a shriek from the parlor, Vera rushed in and helped Mrs. Uppington to her feet. Edmund's aunt was having a
crise de nerfs,
and Vera called the maid to help her get the older woman to her room where she could recover. Mrs. Uppington was staying in a different wing of the house, so Vera and the maid half carried her toward the closest staircase to her bedchamber.

Meriweather Hall was preternaturally silent, and every shadow seemed to hold a threat. Mrs. Uppington's sobs dissolved to soft whimpers. Still, she insisted on going to the book room to get something to read so she could relax enough to fall asleep.

“I can get you a book, madam,” the maid said. “If you will tell me the title of the volume you want, I will bring it to you.”

“How can I know which one I want when I don't know which books are there? Are you bird-witted, girl?”

Vera felt sorry for the maid who had suffered as much as Mrs. Uppington. She did not deserve to be dressed down. Asking the maid to make sure Mrs. Uppington had a hot drink in her room, Vera nodded when the young woman gave her a grateful smile and scurried away.

She strained her ears for some clue to tell her if Sir Nigel had been caught. She heard nothing as she helped Mrs. Uppington toward the book room. As she opened the door, a shot resonated through the house.

Mrs. Uppington screamed.

“Go inside the book room,” Vera said. “We can shut off the lamp, and we should be—”

Mrs. Uppington screamed again, this time pointing past Vera.

Spinning to look back, Vera saw Sir Nigel running toward her. Did he have a second pistol? She had to protect herself and Edmund's aunt. But how? He was almost to the suits of armor. His eyes glittered as they focused on the sword held by the first knight.

With a shout, she leaped forward and yanked the long lance from the gauntlet of the nearest suit of armor. It was heavier than she expected, but she held it up, ignoring her protesting shoulders. She had to halt the baronet before he could reach the armor and the weapons waiting there.

“Stay back,” she ordered as she tried to see if anyone was following him. She doubted she could keep the baronet from pushing past her for more than a few seconds.

“Now, Miss Fenwick, this isn't how a vicar's sister should act. I assume you were the one who found my flask and gave it to Meriweather.” He inched toward the lance's pointed end as he taunted, “Did you think it would make him fall in love with a mouse like you?”

As he put his hand out to grab the lance, she jabbed the sharp point toward him.

He jumped aside and cursed before ordering, “Put it down, Miss Fenwick. Now. Before I become angry. I don't want to hurt a woman, but, if you don't move, I will make you very sorry.”

She shouted over her shoulder, “Mrs. Uppington, go and get help.” She did not dare to look back to see if Edmund's aunt did as she asked.

“Help won't come in time,” Sir Nigel said. “I have led them on a merry chase. Put down the lance, and we will forget this happened.”

“Forget that you ordered your smugglers to kill Lord Ashland and they nearly succeeded?”

“Nearly?” His arrogance cracked for a moment. “Ashland is alive?”

“Alive and sharing everything he knows about you and your smugglers. It's over, Sir Nigel.”

“Not yet.” He tried to sidestep the lance, but she countered.

The motion threw her off balance. As she teetered, trying to keep the tip of the lance from hitting the floor, he reached to grab it again. He miscalculated, and the sharp edge cut into his hand. He shrieked even more shrilly than Mrs. Uppington had. Blood dripped onto the floor as he yanked the lance from her hands.

She stepped back as he flipped the lance and pointed it at her heart. He moved toward her. She banged into the wall. Hearing a scream, she realized Mrs. Uppington had not gone for help. Sir Nigel's smile became savage as he drew back the lance to thrust it into her. She closed her eyes, knowing she had no escape.

Help Edmund, Lord,
she prayed. He had suffered so much sorrow. Now...

There was a thump, but no pain. The lance clattered against the floor. Another thud. Louder than the first.

Opening her eyes, she saw Sir Nigel sprawled on the floor. Behind him, Edmund held his pistol by the barrel as he had on the shore. “Maybe one of these days, I will actually fire this thing instead of using it as a cudgel.”

She threw herself into his arms. They closed around her, and, for the first time since she had discovered Gregory was missing, she surrendered to tears.

Chapter Eighteen

T
hree days passed before Lord Ashland was well enough to return to his estate. Lady Meriweather had ordered a wagon lined with enough blankets to keep a fairy tale princess from feeling the bumps along the road. It waited outside the stable, because it had been simpler to bring the viscount down the back stairs than the front.

Edmund went to the side of the wagon to bid the viscount a good journey. “If there is anything we can do while you are recovering, let us know.”

Ashland clasped Edmund's right hand with his left. “I owe you my life, Meriweather, and I will not forget that.”

“You owe God your life, because He set my feet on the path that let me find you in time.”

“I admire your faith, Meriweather.” Lord Ashland smiled, but tightly. “And I wish I had realized earlier that you were on the side of good in this battle.”

“What have you reported to your superiors?”

His smile broadened. “If I were ever to forget that you are a former army officer, questions like that would remind me.” He grew serious. “I have reported the recent events.”

“And their response?”

“What you would expect. They will send some extra excise officers to arrest any smugglers they can catch. With the tunnels no longer hidden, their activities will be curtailed at least for a while.”

“And Sir Nigel?”

“Without clear proof that Tresting is the leader of the smugglers, they will not move against him. To accuse a baronet, even though he is not a member of the peerage, is a grave matter.” He smiled coldly. “However, the charge of murdering Cadman is another thing, though that is still under investigation. The attempted murder of your aunt will be easier to prove because there are plenty of witnesses.”

“Mr. Brooks has made arrangements for him to be held in the cell he keeps for that purpose. As soon as all the information is gathered and you are recovered, the trial will move forward.”

“Good.” He called for the driver to leave.

Edmund watched the wagon drive away, then smiled when he saw daffodils blooming by the stable door. Picking one, he went back toward the house. He knew someone who would be happy to see it.

* * *

Lillian put her teacup gracefully on her saucer, each motion perfection. Even in her unusually dark clothing, Lillian looked beautiful. The navy fabric made her blond hair glow.

“You don't have to look at me as if you expect me to shatter into a million pieces,” Lillian said. “And you don't have to apologize, Vera. Not again and again and again.
You
did nothing wrong.”

“But I
am
sorry that you have been dragged into this because Sir Nigel is your great-uncle.” Vera set her own cup on the tray, but the china rattled in her unsteady hand.

“My mother should have given some thought to what the old fool was up to before she banished me here so she could enjoy an extended honeymoon with her new husband. Now she will have to spend plenty of time making sure none of this scandal attaches itself to me.”

“Is that possible?”

Lillian smiled. “My dear Vera, anything is possible if my mother flatters the right people and my stepfather arranges a large enough dowry for me. Don't worry that I will be a pariah because of my great-uncle. He hasn't made an appearance in London for many years, so he has no allies there. Fortunately my mother has many.”

“I'm sor—” Vera halted herself when Lillian frowned. “One thing I'm not sorry about is that I have gotten to know you, and having gotten to know you, I have to ask. You didn't know Sir Nigel was leading the smugglers, but you knew something wasn't right, didn't you?”

“Yes to both. I had hoped that Uncle Nigel wasn't involved, but I could no longer ignore the clues right in front of my face. He was acting stranger and stranger all the time. When I wanted to explore the house, he kept suggesting I come here for a visit instead.”

“He didn't want you to find the smuggled goods he hid in his house after the church was burned.”

Scores of crates had been discovered in the unused wings of the great house. Some were marked for shipment to customers. The excise officers who had come from Whitby were already hunting down those customers to arrest them for dealing in illegal goods.

“Not only that. He hoped to distract Edmund by pushing me at him. I humored him so he would not guess that I suspected something was amiss. That is why I acted madly in love with Edmund whenever my great-uncle was near.” Lillian smiled. “Go ahead. You might as well tell me what you thought. I must have appeared to be touched in the head.”

“I did wonder. Edmund was totally left at sixes and sevens, or so my brother told me.” She did not add that she had been baffled, as well, and hurt.

“The poor, dear man. I must apologize to him.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she sighed. “He has endured too much from my family. I hope he doesn't believe my betrayal was worse than my great-uncle's.”

“You are worrying needlessly. Edmund is a fair man. He will listen to you and forgive you.”

“Good.” Lillian stood and lifted her chin. “When I decide to marry, it will be because I have fallen in love. Not because my great-uncle wants to arrange for another shipment of illegal brandy and silk into Sanctuary Bay.”

Vera struggled to keep her voice serene as she rose, too. “So, you have no interest in marrying Edmund?”

“He is a nice man, but not one who touches my heart. He likes living out here in daisyville. I want to live in London. I want the excitement of the Season, and the chance to choose my husband from among the many who will be vying for me.” Her nose wrinkled. “To own the truth, Vera, I would go out of my head if I stayed here for the rest of my life.” As her eyes widened, she hurried to add, “Please don't take offense at my words, because I know this is your home.”

“I'm not offended. You want to go to London, and I would have to be bound and gagged to go there.” Vera smiled. “God made every one of us differently.”

“And what about you, Vera? Are you happy?”

She hesitated. How could she explain what she felt to Lillian? She was relieved that the smugglers had been halted, at least for now. She could not say that to the blonde, because, no matter what he had done, Sir Nigel was part of Lillian's family.

She could say that she was happy that Gregory was writing his sermon for Sunday himself. His close call with death had brought back his fervor for preaching as well as tending to his flock. He was revitalized and reinspired and thankful to be alive to do God's work.

But was
she
happy?

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Edmund said as he entered the room, saving her from having to answer. “If I had known there were two lovely ladies here, I would have brought two flowers.” He held out the daffodil.

When Lillian took it, Vera's heart cramped. It pounded harder when Lillian handed her the flower and said, “This is for you, I am sure.” She picked up her gloves, smiled at Edmund and left.

“It really was for you,” Edmund said as he walked to her. “I know how you love daffodils. It'll be some time before you can replant your daffodils by a new vicarage.”

She forced her smile not to waver as he spoke easily of her leaving Meriweather Hall. What had she thought he would do? Draw her into his arms and profess his undying love?

Mrs. Uppington stormed into the room. She pointed an angry finger at her nephew. “Why are you here with the vicar's sister when Miss Kightly is leaving?”

“We were having a pleasant conversation, Aunt Belinda,” he said as he turned to face her. “You are welcome to join us for a
pleasant
conversation. If you wish any other sort, I must ask you to excuse us.”

“You have made a complete muddle of this!” Aunt Belinda scowled.

“I have? I thought I had—with the help of my allies—done a very good job of ridding Sanctuary Bay of a band of reprehensible smugglers.”

His aunt leveled her trembling finger right at his nose. “Don't give me back-answers, boy! You have made a higgledy-piggledy mess of everything! Letting Lillian Kightly slip away! The match would have been a grand coup for our family. Since her mother remarried and is now a viscountess, Miss Kightly's worth as a potential wife has risen.”

“Her great-uncle—”

“Bah! And who cares about him? He has been one oar short for years. He will be sent away to where they keep addled people like him. By this time next year, when you and Miss Kightly could be happily married, he will be forgotten. If you know what is good for you, my boy, you will chase after her and ask her to marry you before someone else asks her.”

Vera hated the weak tears that seared her eyes. In a whisper, she said, “If you will excuse me...”

“Please stay,” Edmund said, taking her hand. He looked at his aunt. “First of all, Aunt Belinda, I am no longer your boy. I am a man, and I have the responsibility of overseeing Meriweather Hall.”

“I meant—”

He did not let her finish. “Second, I am not marrying Lillian Kightly. My reason for that has nothing to do with her great-uncle.”

“But Miss Kightly spent all that time flirting with you,” his aunt insisted. “She must have some affection for you, Edmund.”

“One thing I have learned in the past weeks is that I don't have to settle for
some.
I can ask for more from the Lord and from myself.” His expression gentled as he looked at Vera. His warm smile touched her heart, setting it to dancing like starlight on the sea. “Would you remind my aunt of the verse from Proverbs that your brother shared with us on Mothering Sunday, Vera?”

“‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths,'” she said softly.

“And that is what I am doing,” Edmund said. “I am trusting God, and I am trying to walk the path He set out for me. That path does not include marrying Lillian. I cannot marry Lillian because I hope I will be marrying Vera, if she will have me.”

“Me?” The single word came out of her in a squeak.

At the same time, his aunt gasped. “Are you out of your mind, Edmund? You could marry a lady like Lillian Kightly. Why would you want to marry a vicar's sister?” Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “She has no idea how a lady should act. She attacked a man with a lance.”

“To save your life, Aunt Belinda. How can you forget that?” His jaw tightened. “If she had not delayed Tresting long enough for us to get there, both you and Vera might be dead now.”

Mrs. Uppington opened her mouth, but, for once, no sound came out.

Edmund cupped Vera's chin in his broad hand. “Tell me, Vera, that you will marry me.”

Gazing up into his eyes, she could read his eagerness to hear the answer he hoped for. The decision was totally hers, and she knew what the choice had to be. So softly she could hardly hear the words herself, she said, “No, I cannot marry you.”

She pulled her hand out of his, turning away so she did not have to see the shock and pain in his eyes, and ran from the room. She did not stop running until she reached the rose-covered arbor. She dropped to the ground and hid her face against her arms folded on the bench. Sobs racked her.

A gentle hand stroked her back. She raised her head, even though her cheeks must have been filthy where her tears had fallen and mixed with the dust on the bench.

Edmund knelt beside her but looked out at the waves. “Everyone has told me that I need a wife who can help me learn to become the lord of Meriweather Hall. I cannot continue on with no idea what I should do next.”

“I never said that you had no idea what to do next.”

“But you thought it.” He chuckled when she hesitated answering. “You may as well own to the truth, Vera. Just as you should accept the truth that I love you.”

She stared at him, unsure if she had actually heard him say the words that had been whispered through her dreams. “You do?”

“I wouldn't have asked you to marry me if I didn't love you. I may be a baron, but I still think like a merchant. I won't settle for less than love when I marry.”

His words echoed her own thoughts when she had wondered if he would give in to pressure to propose to Lillian. Happiness flared within her, then died.

“Your aunt is right about one thing,” she said.

“I find that hard to believe, but go ahead. Humor me and tell me what you think she's right about.” He sat on the grass so close she could feel his warmth, but he did not touch her.

“I am not the sort of woman you should marry.”

“Oh, Vera, do we have to go through this again?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath, then looked deep into his eyes. “I know you see me as the vicar's helpful sister, but there are things you don't know about me.”

“Things like about you and Nolan Hedgcoe?”

“You know about that?”

A sad smile tugged on his lips. “Your brother sought me out for a private conversation because he was concerned about the attention I was paying you. He did not want you to be hurt again.”

She flinched as she recalled how she had seen Gregory going into the book room the day after Edmund had first kissed her.

He ran one crooked finger along her cheek. “Your brother told me how you blame yourself for the circumstances that unfolded before you came to Sanctuary Bay.”

She put her hands up to cover her eyes and her cheeks that burned with her embarrassment. She could not bear to look at him while he spoke of her greatest shame. When he put his hands on her wrists and drew down her fingers so his gaze could meet hers, she longed to lean against his strong chest and have his arms around her, shutting out the past that haunted her.

“Vera, your brother didn't give me the details of what happened. Only that you were judged harshly when you could not prevent a young man from continuing on his self-destructive path.”