Miss Mischief - A Regency Romance (20 page)

One way or another, Marcus was sure that the man would not want to be dependent upon his sister and a marriage between Mrs. Gordon and Sir Antony must preclude one between himself and Johanna Claybourn.

The moment that Lord Mordern disappeared into the library, Marcus left his hiding spot and moved forward softly until he was positioned just outside the door. He heard Miss Claybourn’s light, musical tones as she exclaimed.

‘Lord Mordern! I was just looking for that book -’

And Mordern’s impetuous interruption. ‘My dear girl, I cannot stay away from you! Do you have any idea what you do to me?’

‘Lord Mordern!’ Miss Claybourn’s voice fluttered like an outraged maiden aunt and, despite himself, Marcus grinned. Damn, but the wretch was probably enjoying herself! ‘I don’t think this is at all appropriate.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ strangely enough Mordern sounded genuinely strained, as if laboring under considerable emotion. There was a harsh frustration beneath those words and Marcus stiffened, every instinct prodding him to action. ‘But don’t think I haven’t seen those looks you have been sending to Hathaway! Rest assured, I have no intention of a bumpkin like
him
taking something I have been working towards all week. You seem to like playing fast and loose with men, my dear. I think I have been very patient so far but now it is time for my just reward.’

‘I am not playing fast and loose with anybody!’ she said indignantly. ‘Least of all you, Sir. I have made no secret of the fact that I am not interested and would appreciate it if you would leave now.’

Marcus was poised on the balls of his feet. Was this the moment he was supposed to burst in? Damn it all, they should have had a prearranged word or something, so he could be quite sure his entrance wouldn’t be precipitous.

‘I don’t think so,’ Mordern growled. Marcus wondered if he was putting on a show or if he had really been goaded into action. There was no trace of amusement in his voice now. ‘In fact, I think it’s time we got to know each other a great deal better. Come here!’

Miss Claybourn gave a small shriek and Marcus put his head in the door, ready to act. He saw Lord Mordern seize hold of the girl’s arm, pulling her – none too gently – towards him. Miss Claybourn saw
him
over the man’s shoulder and held up a hand, urging him to stay where he was. He scowled but did so, watching as Mordern, who had apparently taken leave of his senses, enfold her struggling form into his arms while he attempted to kiss her. Johanna Claybourn did not make it easy for him, thrashing around like a female possessed. Marcus heard the rip of material and Mordern cursing.

Enough was enough; he did not care for the sight of that slim figure in the arms of such a man in the least. It made his gut twist unpleasantly.

Turning, Marcus snapped at a passing maid, ‘Fetch Sir Antony immediately!’

Then he stepped into the library; it was time for decisive action.

With a loud exclamation of indignant disgust, he strode across the room and took Lord Mordern’s jacket by the collar, pulling on it sharply. Roughly dragged off the woman he was manhandling so vigorously, the man stumbled backwards, lost his footing and fell heavily onto the carpet. Marcus glared at him. He found he did not have to simulate furious indignation; he was genuinely angry.

‘What the devil do you mean, assaulting a young woman in such a fashion!’ He snarled and glanced at Miss Claybourn, who looked the picture of maidenly distress. The lace on her bodice had come away in one place and hung limply, while her curls were in a fine state of ruffled disarray. She looked charmingly disheveled. Could Lord Mordern really have caused so much damage in so short a time? He suspected that all that struggling had done a deal more than any rough handling on his lordship’s part. Just the same… it was an impressive result.

‘He kissed me!’ she said, flinging out an accusing arm with all the dramatic flare of a stage actress delivering a dénouement.

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Mordern grated, trying to regain his feet. ‘It is a misunderstanding.’

With delightful timing, Sir Antony stepped into the room and took in the scene. ‘What the devil is going on here?’ he spluttered, looking from his daughter, to Lord Hathaway, to Lord Mordern who had finally succeeded in getting himself upright. Mordern was furious. Marcus could feel the rage that radiated off him and the effort it cost him to clamp down on his temper. He must realize by now that he had made a serious error of judgment and that his entire campaign was in danger of ignominious failure. Marcus took steps to ensure that he had no opportunity to lay down a plausible scenario for his credulous host.

‘I found this man assaulting your daughter,’ he said in tones of icy disgust.

Mordern shot him a murderous glare, but when he spoke his voice was quite calm. ‘Ridiculous. It was merely a misunderstanding -’

‘A misunderstanding?’ Miss Claybourn uttered in failing accents. She had gone limp and looked to be on the verge of collapse. Marcus moved forward quickly to put a supporting arm around her and guided her to a chair. ‘Papa, he… he leaped on me!’

Sir Antony turned an incredulous gaze onto Lord Mordern, who looked annoyed.

‘Is that true?’ Sir Antony said in disbelief.

‘Not at all. It was a mistake, that is all. I have formed a most ardent attachment to Miss Claybourn over the past week and I… I could not restrain myself any longer. I merely wished to tell her how much she means to me, I can assure you.’

Johanna Claybourn looked at her father piteously. Tears had formed in her dark eyes and a single drop overflowed to slip down her cheek. If Marcus had not witnessed the entire thing, he would have been profoundly affected for she looked as fragile and helpless as a delicate blossom.

‘Oh, Sir,’ she quavered, ‘I promise you, I did not encourage him. He… he
pounced
on me and I could not get away…’ her voice trailed off and she buried her face in her hands and proceeded to weep.

Feeling his host’s gaze fix on him accusingly, Mordern shifted a little. ‘It is untrue, I can assure you. I am sorry if I… if I misunderstood Miss Claybourn’s attitude. If I had but known that she did not regard my suit favorably I would never have -’

‘Are you suggesting that she encouraged you?’ Marcus demanded, not even trying to disguise his distaste. ‘For that is certainly not how it looked to me. In fact, she seemed to be struggling in your arms.’

‘You dared to take my daughter into your arms?’ Sir Antony demanded, the full import of the situation having finally sunk in. ‘How dare you, Sir! And as a guest in my own home.’

‘Oh Ennis,’ Marcus had not noticed that Celine Gordon stood in the doorway but he could see the dismay on her face. She was an intelligent woman and must realize that her brother had just queered both of their pitches, so to speak. ‘Of all the… My dear Sir Antony, Miss Claybourn… Johanna, I am so
sorry
. I am sure my brother did not mean to upset the poor child so.’

‘It is difficult to know what he intended,’ Marcus said flatly. ‘Except to extend the greatest insult a man could to another, by attacking the virtue of his innocent child.’

The moment he said the words he winced inwardly, for surely that was going too far. Dear God, now
he
sounded like something out of a tawdry melodrama. Miss Claybourn must be catching. Fortunately, Sir Antony was an honorable man who saw nothing wrong in this emotionally charged piece of nonsense. Instead, it seemed to strike a chord and he appeared visibly shaken, like a man who had just discovered he had been nurturing an asp to his metaphorical bosom.

‘I would ask you to leave my house,’ he said heavily, expression one of ill-concealed disgust. ‘How I could have been so mistaken about your nature, Lord Mordern… well, I cannot express my disappointment, my… my displeasure of such a betrayal. I would ask you to quit this place immediately, if you please.’

‘Immediately?’ Mordern glanced involuntarily towards the windows. The sun had entirely disappeared and a fine rain had started to fall.

‘But Sir Antony,’ Mrs. Gordon stepped forward hastily. ‘Whilst I cannot condone my brother’s actions, surely you are behaving precipitously? It is growing late -’

‘If he does not leave I will lock myself in my bedchamber!’ Miss Claybourn said, emerging from her hands to turn a tearstained face to the room. ‘He
scares
me, Papa.’

‘That is perfectly understandable,’ Marcus said, voice soothing. ‘How could he not, behaving in such a way to a young lady of such tender sensibilities.’ There was no doubt she was having an astonishing effect on what was coming out of his mouth.

‘No,’ Sir Antony said, giving Mrs. Gordon a regretful glance. ‘It is impossible that he should stay beneath my roof for another night. If you wish to remain until morning, my dear lady, I quite understand.’

Mrs. Gordon gaped at him for clearly she had not been expecting this. Perhaps, Marcus thought maliciously, she had been hoping to comfort the man in his hour of travail. He had no doubt she would sacrifice her brother to do so.

Mordern stood like a man who was trying to remember what role he was supposed to be playing. He looked at Sir Antony frowningly before giving a sharp nod.

‘Of course,’ he said grimly. ‘I quite understand. Come, Celine. We need to prepare for the journey.’

‘But…’ she looked from one face to another, obviously finding it difficult to believe that her own burgeoning plans had come unraveled so quickly. ‘Can we all not sit down together and discuss this? I am sure it is all just a silly misapprehension. Miss Claybourn, please.’

But Johanna Claybourn did not care to please anybody. She had recommenced crying and was staring at the hands twisted together in her lap, her mouth trembling as she bravely tried to hold herself together.
The little witch
, he thought with an inward shake of the head,
putting on a performance like this.

There could be no doubt of the outcome. Miss Claybourn had generated too much high drama for there to be any result but the removal of brother and sister from Cloverton Hall. Mrs. Gordon, it must be admitted, had to be removed by her brother for she too, had turned on the tears and was preparing to emote. Lord Mordern was clearly unwilling to let her and Sir Antony, having ensured his daughter was all right, looked at Marcus with considerable gratitude.

‘Thank you for rescuing her once again,’ he said somberly. ‘I had thought Mordern a gentleman but it seems that I was taken in. I cannot understand… but no, I was deceived. My dearest Johanna, are you sure you are all right?’

‘Yes, Papa,’ she gave him a sweet, unsteady smile. ‘Thanks to you and Lord Hathaway. I must confess, I did not like Lord Mordern at all. He had a way about him that made me dreadfully nervous.’

‘With good reason, it seems.’ He shook his head, clearly bewildered by such astonishingly unchivalrous behavior in a man he had considered to be entirely respectable. He patted his daughter’s shoulder when she assured him that she would go to her room and rest for awhile.

‘I do not want to see him again, you see,’ she added quietly. ‘I will come back down when they are gone, I think.’

Sir Antony nodded heavily and turned to the door. ‘I’d best tell your grandmother what has happened,’ he said, adding over his shoulder. ‘I’m sure she’ll be just as shocked as I am!’

When he was gone and Marcus was alone with Miss Claybourn again, she straightened her body, brushed a strand of hair off her face and gave him a glowing smile. ‘And that,’ she said simply, ‘is how it is done.’

‘You’re a terror, Miss Claybourn!’

‘You were very impressive yourself,’ she assured him. Taking his arm they began strolling towards the door. ‘It is coming up for a dreadful storm, I think. Please stay for dinner, my lord. Hermes would hate to go out in such a storm.’

‘And yet you have no compunction about sending Lord Mordern and Mrs. Gordon off!’

‘That was entirely different. I did not want that woman working on Papa overnight. Who knows what she might have achieved by morning? Dinner? Please? I need at least one person to gloat to about how clever we were.’

He hesitated. He had intended to leave as soon as the business was over with but he wasn’t inclined to do so until the door had shut with firm finality on the backs of the departing guests. He could have dinner, perhaps and wait out the rain for a time. It would be as well to see that Sir Antony wasn’t too cast down by the events of the afternoon.