Miss Quinn's Quandary (18 page)

“One of your schemes, is it? More sound than the ones you usually
come up with.”

“I have to be honest. It is one of Lady Trent’s.”

“Yes, Lady Trent, indeed.” Rushton regarded her with raised
eyebrows. Larissa forced a smile and took the credit, but wondered what rampant
thought fueled the earl’s questioning gaze.

That very afternoon, Larissa and a disguised Lord William
traveled to Hyde Park. Riding in the earl’s crested coach lent credence to
their performance. The coach stopped, allowing its passengers to disembark and
stroll along the path. Larissa took the inside track. Her escort’s back faced
the approaching pedestrians. From behind, one would assume the dark-haired
gentleman under the curly brimmed hat and fawn coat with velvet lapels would be
her husband, Sir Randall Trent.

Larissa used her parasol to shield Lord William’s face from
recognition. Alternately, Lord William used his hat to mask his identity when
the parasol could not. They thought to keep their distance from the rest of the
throng yet greet those on foot as well as those in passing transports openly.

Talk of their presence would soon be widespread and get back to
Dorothea, hopefully to spur her into action. After a very public disclosure of
marriage and the sudden news of Sir Randall’s arrest, the rumor of his release
should be seized with equal enthusiasm.

After the stroll, Larissa and Lord William met up with their
coach. Larissa knew the only way to be rid of the surreptitious glances and
intrusive stares from the onlookers would be when the coach rounded the corner
and pulled out of the line of sight of the public. Until then they were
onstage.

“Did you see the look on Mrs. Peacock’s face?” Larissa whispered,
approaching the coach.

“Can’t say I did,” he mumbled.

“She looked as though she had seen a ghost. And Lady Jersey
looked absolutely stupefied.” Larissa made her final visual sweep of the area.
“They saw who they wanted to see. I’m sure the news will be spread within the
hour.”

“Dash it all,” he swore. “I had my back to everyone. I couldn’t
see a blessed thing.”

The liveried footman opened the door. Before handing Larissa up,
Lord William delivered a smart slap to her derriere. She gave a sharp cry,
leaping into the transport.

Larissa kept silent, only glaring at him until the coach moved
off. “What did you do that for?” It was all she could do not to rub the assaulted
area.

Lord William sat on the opposite bench, facing her. “Harding said
Randall wasn’t a gentleman, that he treated you badly and all that. I was just
throwing myself into the part.”

“Well, you can just throw yourself out,” Larissa huffed. “Nothing
could be further from the truth. Sir Randall was a consummate gentleman.”
Unless she counted the steamy gazes followed by the sensual half smile he
effected while in her presence.

She did not want to admit she might never experience another
moment of his company. Yet, it might happen if Sir Randall were to be found
guilty.

“It was meant as a love pat, an endearment, that’s all,” Lord
William continued.

“I’ll ask you not to repeat that endearment, thank you.”

“As you say.” Lord William leaned forward and doffed his hat as
an apology, causing the sound of tearing fabric to fill the interior.

Larissa could see the fabric of the jacket strain across the
shoulders. Lord William’s arms were held tight. A slight shift to his right
side provided Larissa a view of the ruptured shoulder seam. He tried to look
for himself, but could not quite see.

“Oh, goodness,” Larissa whispered.

“Oh, bloody hell,” he swore. “This is Randall’s favorite coat.
I’ll have the devil to pay when he finds out.” His eyes softened when he met
Larissa’s gaze. “But I would gladly take the thrashing if our scheme works.”

You didn’t expect Billy to charge out and take action right away,
did you?” William inquired the following evening.

Larissa wrung her lace handkerchief. “How much longer do you
think it will be?”

“Can’t say really. It was only yesterday the two of you paraded
through Hyde Park,” Rushton remarked. “The impostor must strike soon if they
are to keep up the pretense that my nephew is the highwayman.”

“I don’t know what I expected. It just feels like we’ve been
waiting forever.”

“Waiting is such a terrible business,” William agreed, downing
his brandy and immediately refilling it. “Can’t do a blessed thing but sit here
all the while. I don’t know how much more I can take myself.”

“Don’t know if my cellar will last,” the earl remarked,
commenting on his guest’s brandy consumption.

Dressed to the nines, Ivy breezed into the room. “I’m sorry to
keep you waiting, Rushton.”

“And worth every extra minute, I’ll wager.” Rushton reached out
for his wife’s hand and eyed her thoroughly. Emeralds and diamonds glittered
from her ears, throat, and wrists. “You are an absolute vision, my sweet.”

“Rushton,” she whispered, chiding him. Her dark green dress
rustled when she stepped back. “Do stop.”

“We shall be off to do our part,” the earl announced. “I’ll see
what tidbits of news I can gather tonight. Perhaps if we’re lucky one of the
guests will have had the horrible tragedy of an unexpected meeting with the
highwayman.”

“No need to sound so jubilant about someone else’s misfortune,”
the countess scolded. “If we don’t leave now, Rushton, we’ll be more than
fashionably late.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, my dear. No need to threaten to leave me
behind.”

“I never said I would leave without you.”

“You haven’t yet,” Rushton said, producing a teasing smile. He
made a final farewell gesture to Larissa and William.

William raised his glass in a toast. The Earl and Countess of
Rushton left. William took the empty decanter to the sideboard and searched for
a full bottle. “Why don’t you take yourself off to
bed.
”

Larissa resumed her pacing. “I do not think I shall be able to
face sleep until they return.”

Unable to find his drink of choice, William found a substitute,
filled his glass, and sank into the wingback chair next to the fire. He
stretched, then crossed his legs at the ankles and rolled his glass between his
palms. “All I can say is we had both better prepare ourselves for a very long
evening.”

Three hours later, Larissa heard the steady sound of footsteps
approach the parlor. William’s, she thought, or perhaps Laurie’s. She froze
with her needle poised in hand when she looked up and saw Sir Randall standing
in the doorway.

The embroidery hoop slipped from her fingers and fell off her
lap. She rushed toward him, but stopped just beyond arm’s reach. “You’re back,”
she gasped with suppressed pleasure, an exuberant smile, and her heart nearly
pounding out of her chest in excitement.

“I have a hard time believing it myself.” His voice sounded as
gritty as his rumpled and torn clothing. A dark wash of whiskers covered his
chin, causing the dark circles under his eyes to stand out on his drawn, gaunt
face. “They told me they had the wrong man and I was free to return home.”

“Good Gad! I can’t believe it, you’re back!” William approached
his friend from behind and clapped both hands on Sir Randall’s shoulders in
welcome. He immediately withdrew them, leaning away and brushing them together
as if soiled. “You look a fright and you smell worse.”

“As bad as I feel, no doubt,” Sir Randall groaned.

William carved a judicious path around his friend, entering the
room to stand next to Larissa. “Here now, Randall. You’re no fit sight for a
lady.”

Sir Randall looked down at himself. Did he not know of his own
condition?

“Your bath awaits, sir,” Laurie announced from out of nowhere.

Sir Randall gave a brief nod, excusing himself. Laurie followed.
In the silence that ensued, Larissa could hear the butler continuing his
discourse. “The cook is preparing your meal now, sir. It should be ready by the
time you finish.”

“Laurie, I can’t ever remember when I’ve been so hungry. I didn’t
think I’d ever taste
Amendola’s
fare again.”

When Sir Randall was well out of sight, William gave a leap,
clicking his heels in midair. “We did it!” he shouted. “At first I thought that
plan of yours was fairly half-baked. But it certainly did set things to rights.”

“You never told me you thought it unsound.”

“I didn’t have anything better to suggest,” William confessed.
“What a sight, what?” His brows wrinkled. “Can’t imagine what it would have
been like to be in such a place.”

Larissa tilted her head, unable to discern his meaning.

“He wasn’t in the debtor’s side, you know.” He rubbed his chin in
a contemplative gesture. “Randall’s been in with the murderers, thieves, and
cutthroats.”

“How horrible. How very horrible for him.” She shuddered.
“Hopefully all of it will soon be forgotten. All that matters now is that he is
back where he belongs.”

Randall could hardly believe he was safe in his uncle’s house.
Soaking in the heated water of his bath, he scrubbed at the dirty layer of
prison that accompanied him home. He hoped the experience of the dark, dank
communal cell he occupied would soon be forgotten.

During his incarceration, bouts of doubt and hopelessness had
weaved their way into his mind. He could not move past the notion that he was a
lost cause and beyond help.

The days had passed. Just as he had given up all hope, he was set
free. He did not know how it came about, or who he could thank for this
miracle, but decided chances were good the person or persons responsible
resided in this house.

The realization of freedom dawned on him when he stepped onto the
brick walk of the Portman Square townhouse, the most wonderful sight in the
world.

Satisfied with his exterior, he was ready to abandon his bath and
move on to his internal needs. The rumblings of his stomach were causing white
caps to form on the water.

Randall feasted on
Amendola’s
reheated
culinary masterpiece, and would never have complained of it in a hundred years.
The roasted beef and vegetables were a feast compared to the slops they called
food at the prison. Satisfied with his solitude, he had no doubt Larissa or the
countess would have scolded him on his table manners. He ate like a starving
man. He was a starving man.

He had come to realize he loved Larissa. Their unfulfilled scene,
tragic in its outcome, lay unresolved in his heart. It was the solitary thought
that had cut through his blackness and desperation to give him hope. Randall
had been given a second chance at life and he did not want to spend the rest of
it without her.

In the parlor, William caught Larissa staring over his shoulder
to Sir Randall, who stood at the portal.

“I say, there you are,” drawled William, turning about to see his
friend. “So much better, don’t you think?” he asked Larissa.

The absence of her reply drew William’s attention. Randall’s gaze
was locked on her, and hers, in return, on him.

William cleared his throat, but it did not break the spell.

“Well,” William glanced between the two and stood. “I suppose I
should be leaving you two alone.”

Silence.

“I’ve sent off a note to your uncle of Randall’s release. He’s
attending the Devonshire’s musicale.” William paused. “I know he’d want to know
you were home safe and sound.”

Silence still.

“I’ll just be on my way then, if you don’t mind.” William rolled
up onto the balls of his feet and swung his arms forward, slapping his fist
with an open hand, making a popping sound. “I’ll just be in my room if I am
needed.” He pointed out the door to the stairs, indicating his impending exit.
“So good to have you back, Randall,” he reiterated, noting Randall was not
paying the least bit of attention to him and made a hasty retreat.

“Do you know who is responsible for my freedom?”

“I imagine that would be me,” Larissa gladly confessed.

“You?” Clearly the news shocked him. “Would you care to explain?”

Feeling a bit self-conscious, she continued, “We couldn’t just
let them take you away to prison. You are innocent.”

“I knew that. I’m greatly relieved you so soundly believe it.”

“Of course I do. We all did,” she was quick to amend. “It was a
simple matter of deducing who would want to see harm come to you.”

“I fancy I haven’t that many enemies,” he replied, apparently
curious, but not overanxious to discover the culprit. “And who, pray tell, did
you come up with?”

“Lady Dorothea
Brookhurst
.”

“Lady Dorothea? Are you quite certain?”

“Oh yes,” she nodded. “However, there is little we know about her
accomplice, except it is a man. Your uncle was very quick to accuse. He even
suspected William of having a part in all this.”

“William?” Sir Randall pronounced in a peculiar tone. “That’s
ridiculous. When was it you omitted using his title?”

“Well, I suppose our familiarity has come from our combined
efforts to save you. We have been through much together these last few days.”
She lowered her gaze.

“There’s nothing between the two of you is there?” His tone
indicated his wariness.

“Other than friendship, no. He has assisted me in having your
neckcloths
replaced, and he has been impersonating you
while you were…away.”

“Has he now?” Randall inched forward, closing the distance
between them. “And while posing as me, has he taken any liberties he should not
have?”

“Well,” Larissa hesitated. “He had to be convincing in portraying
you. And he couldn’t let anyone see his face, of course.”

“Of course.” The more curious Randall grew, the wider his eyes
became. “Is there anything else?”

“There was one particular incident.” She paused and swallowed hard.
“I’m afraid he…I’m not at all sure I should tell you.”

“I think you should,” he urged. Had Wills behaved improperly
toward her? Had he found favor with her, replacing him?

“Well, if you insist.” Larissa’s large green eyes stared up at
him. “I’m afraid he has torn your fawn jacket, the one with the velvet lapels.”
It appeared she was more concerned about his apparel than the fact she was on first
name basis with his friend.

“I am certain it can be easily repaired. It’s just your clothes
were a touch snug on him. I promise I shall repair it myself, if you like.”

“I don’t care a fig about the jacket. Larissa,” he gasped,
snatching up her hand and kissing it. “While I was locked up, I could think of
nothing but you. Have you missed me half as much as I have missed you?” He
kissed her hand again. “Do you long for the kiss we were denied when I was
taken away?”

Her silence and the rising color in her cheeks gave him his
answer.

“I never want to leave you again.”

She said nothing and remained quiet, giving the indication of
submission. Leaning forward, Randall closed the distance between them and took
her chin lightly between his fingertips. Her breath felt warm and sweet upon
his newly shaved skin. He traced the curve of her lips with his finger before
nearing for a kiss. He closed his eyes and leaned toward her.

This was the moment he had long awaited.