One Lucky Vampire (37 page)

“I beg your pardon?” she murmured uncertainly.

“You need not explain. ’Tis obvious you are about to head for Gretna Green.”

“Gretna Green?”

Charlie could have kicked Beth for her look of astonishment. If the saying were true that everyone loved a lover, they might have had a better chance of the man not interfering in their escape plans. He’d obviously thought they were eloping. Instead of leaving him with that mistaken impression, however, Beth gestured toward Charlie.

“Charlie is my twin—”

“Charles,” Charlie corrected quickly, stepping forward to join her in the light.

Beth blinked, then nodded slowly. “Aye. Charles is my twin brother.”

Radcliffe’s eyebrows shot up as he looked the boy over. Except for the white wig, the two were identical. Well, of course there were the obvious physical differences. Where the girl’s chest was ample, the boy’s was not. After his initial surprise had passed, Radcliffe’s eyes narrowed with some suspicion. “Why would the two of you need to flee your uncle in the dead of night?”

“Our parents died four years ago,” the lad answered this time. “Our uncle took over our care. He has done his best to run the family estates into the ground, and now wishes to replenish his coffers by selling Beth off into marriage. To Lord Carland.”

Radcliffe stiffened at that name, shocked. Carland was a brutal bastard. He had been through three wives already. The first had died in childbirth. It was said that a beating had sent her into labor, and may have had something to do with her death as well. The second wife had killed herself. The third had plunged to her death down the stairs of the family’s country estate. There was much speculation as to whether she had had some assistance from her husband in that plunge.

Whatever the case, not one of his wives had lasted a year, and no one would even consider allowing their daughter to marry the bastard now. But from this pair’s description, their uncle was more concerned with his coffers than his kin. Were they telling the truth?

“What are your names?” he asked abruptly.

There was a pause as the two exchanged glances once again.

“Charles and Elizabeth Westerly.”

Radcliffe searched his memory briefly, then nodded as he recalled having heard of Nora and Robert Westerly. Happy couple. They’d had twins, though he had thought they were girls. The family members had spent most of their time on their country estate and hadn’t cared much for town life. The parents had died four years ago in a carriage accident. Robert’s brother Henry Westerly had supposedly taken over the care of the twins and the running of the estates. There had been some rumors of late that he was running through the money quickly in gambling, and from what the boy had just said, he had, and intended to make it up by selling his niece into a marriage that would likely result in her death.

Radcliffe wasn’t at all surprised to hear that Carland was willing to pay for a bride. The man needed an heir, else his estate would be left to some distant nephew. His gaze slid over the girl and he sighed. She was a delicate little creature. Other than her over-endowed chest, she was thin to the point of frailty everywhere else. He did not think she would last a month with Carland.

“Where are you going?” he asked abruptly, gesturing impatiently when the boy stiffened at the question, suspicion tightening his mouth. “I am not going to tell on you. I would not wish to see your lovely sister in Carland’s hands either. She would be dead in a week.”

There was no doubting his sincerity. There was loathing in the man’s eyes even as he said Carland’s name. Still, Charlie hesitated to tell him the truth, that they were going to stay with their cousin Ralphy, a relative on their mother’s side that Uncle Henry did not know existed. Lies were the only alternative. Oddly enough, the plan that came tripping out wasn’t half-bad.

“London.”

Radcliffe’s eyebrows rose yet again. “Relatives there?”

“No.”

“It takes money to live in London.”

Charlie grinned. “Uncle Henry went through our father’s family fortune, but our mother turned her fortune into jewels years ago. She left them to us in her will.”

“And your uncle did not try to cash them in or—”

“He would have if he could have found them,” the lad interrupted smugly. “But he couldn’t. Mother and Father hid them years ago, in case of an emergency. Other than our parents, only Elizabeth and I knew where they were, and we conveniently forgot to mention that they had told us.”

Radcliffe’s mouth quirked at that; then he sobered. “He will find you in London.”

“Eventually,” Charlie agreed. “But by then Beth will be married off to someone in the ton.”

“And you?”

“I shall be living well off of investments made once I have sold my share of the jewels,” Charlie lied nonchalantly.

“You intend to give your sister a season by selling some of the jewels?”

The boy nodded.

Radcliffe frowned. “If you give her a season, your uncle shall hear about it and know where to find you.”

“As I said, eventually, but he will not look in London first. He shall head back to the family estates, then check with relatives on my father’s side.”

“Why would he not look in London first?”

“Because that is where he was taking us. He would hardly think we had run off in the middle of the night to beat him there.”

Radcliffe nodded at the sense in those words. Even Beth looked impressed with the reasoning, and Charlie grimaced at her slightly. She was supposed to already know of this plan. If she was not careful, Radcliffe would see it for the lie it was.

“What of Carland?” Radcliffe asked.

Charlie glanced toward the man. “Carland does not go to London. Most of the ton refuses him admittance. My uncle was taking us to London to purchase a trousseau for Beth, then we were to continue on to Carland’s estates.”

It was a sound plan for the most part, Radcliffe decided. What the boy lacked in brawn, he more than made up for in brains, it seemed. However, there were weak points in every plan and this one was no exception. For instance, if they planned on living off of a treasure of jewels, they obviously had the jewels with them. Probably in the bags, he decided, remembering the way they had carried them: one each, two-handed, as if they were heavy. All it took was a highway robbery to turn them into paupers at their uncle’s mercy again, and he would guess the foolish boy was unarmed. Aside from that, there were all sorts of complications that could arise in London. Theft, of course, or a jeweler could cheat them if they went to the wrong one. And that was only the start of it.

Radcliffe tried to shrug away his growing concern for the pair, but it would not vanish. He would have to help them, he supposed, but couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he felt the compulsion. His gaze rested on the girl briefly, but he mentally shook his head. No, it was not that he was enamored especially of this girl. Oddly enough, he suspected he was going to do it because of the boy. There was a certain stiffness to the lad that spoke of fear, pride and courage all mixed in together as he stood protectively by his sister. He was taking a lot on himself to rescue her, trying very hard to be a man, though Radcliffe doubted that the pair was more than fifteen or sixteen.

“You had best finish saddling up. Time is passing. You will wish to be far and away from here come the morning.” With that, the man turned and left the stables.

“Do you think he will tell?” Beth asked anxiously as they listened to his fading footsteps.

Shrugging, Charlie walked back into the stall to finish saddling the mount. “It does not matter. It might be good if he does, since the plan I gave him was a lie. But mount up quickly anyway. If he wakes everyone up, I do not wish to be here.”

Nodding, Beth hurried back to her mount, then giggled nervously. “Where did you come up with those lies?”

“They were not all lies,” Charlie pointed out grimly, and Beth’s smile faded.

“No. The part about Uncle Henry losing all and trying to get it back through marriage was true enough. But I am not to marry Carland. I am to marry Seguin. Why—”

“He would hardly be sympathetic to the fact that you are being married off to a fat old goat,” Charlie pointed out dryly. “That happens every day. Carland is another kettle of fish altogether.”

“Aye. Besides, it was not really much of a lie, was it? After all, Uncle Henry was selling
you
in marriage to Carland,” Beth murmured quietly, her gaze moving over her twin sister. She still found it a little startling to see her in men’s clothes. Especially with her breasts bound so tight they seemed nonexistent. She wondered suddenly if it hurt Charlie to have them all squashed up like that.

It had been Charlie’s idea to dress as a man. A brother and sister traveling alone would not be noticed. Twin sisters traveling alone would have. She supposed they could have traveled as two boys, but Charlie had not mentioned the suggestion, and truth to tell, Beth had not even thought of it until now. Besides, twin brothers might have been just as memorable as twin sisters. Nay, she decided. ’Twas better this way. She as herself, and Charlie masquerading as her brother.

It was just the adventurous sort of thing Charlie liked to do. She was the braver, wilder of the two. Beth wasn’t very adventurous at all. She was the sedate one. Well behaved, obedient, well mannered, she did what was expected. Until she’d found out about Seguin. But she probably would have obediently married the great cow if not for Charlie. Still, Charlie simply couldn’t marry Carland. As the stranger had said, she’d be dead in a month, or in goal for killing him in self-defense. That’s why Charlie had decided to run away to Cousin Ralph to seek protection. And where Charlie went, Beth followed. They were twins, after all. They’d never been separated in all their twenty years, or not as far as Beth could remember.

“All set?”

Beth glanced up at her sister’s question and nodded as she hooked the bag with her half of their mother’s jewels onto the saddle.

“Good. Let us go.” Charlie led her horse out of his stall and Beth followed suit, trailing her out of the stable. The pair walked their horses silently around the inn. Beth was staring at the darkened windows, wondering where the stranger had gone, when Charlie suddenly slowed and cursed. Glancing forward, she noted the man standing by a horse on the lane in front of the inn. “What do you think he is doing?”

Charlie was silent for a moment, then sighed. “I suppose we shall have to ask to find out.”

R
adcliffe smiled to himself as the pair approached. The girl wasn’t bothering to hide her anxiety and confusion about his presence. The boy was hiding both staunchly behind a stiff exterior.

“I have decided to travel with you to London,” he announced when they stopped before him, then nearly laughed at their blank expressions. They obviously hadn’t thought to be so lucky. Deciding to give them a moment to recapture their thoughts so that they could thank him properly, he continued, “It is a three-day journey from here to London. The way is littered with highwaymen and perils of every nature. Since I am headed that way anyway, I thought to avail you of my protection.”

Charlie glanced at Beth’s nonplussed expression, her own face stiff with fury. Why the devil hadn’t she considered that the oaf might decide to join them? Why did he even want to? The jolthead was going to ruin everything. She did not for one moment think that he really wanted to help. So, what was he after? she wondered. The answer came to her almost immediately. It wasn’t that hard to figure out, really. She should not have mentioned the jewels. He must have realized that they carried them with them and most likely, he intended to rob them somewhere down the road.

Straightening her shoulders, she glared at him coldly and announced, “Your offer is kind, I am sure, but I am quite capable of protecting my sister.”

Radcliffe frowned at the boy’s reaction, then realized that he had pinched his male pride. The pride of young men was a most fragile thing, and while Radcliffe normally would have done his most to protect such tender feelings, now was not the time for it. Not when the boy’s pride might very well see him and his sister dead. “You are not even carrying a weapon, lad,” he pointed out sternly. “If I had been a thief, I could have killed you both and taken your jewels in the stables.”

Charlie blinked, wondering if the man had read her thoughts as regarding his motives, then shrugged such worries aside. She had more important concerns. Such as finding some way to refuse his offer and avoid raising his suspicions at the same time. “Who are you?”

Radcliffe blinked. “What?”

“Your name, sirrah?”

He stiffened at the insulting address, then arched one eyebrow rather superciliously and reached into his pocket to withdraw a small card which he presented to Charlie.

Stepping forward, she took the card and frowned as she read the name out loud. “Lord Jeremy William Richards. The earl of Radcliffe.” She looked up at him. “Lord Radcliffe.”

He gave an ironic little bow, then relaxed as he saw the recognition on their faces and the way the brother and sister exchanged glances again. “You know the name.”

“You knew our father,” Charlie countered.

“I never met him,” Radcliffe corrected. “But we did correspond on occasion. We were partners in several ventures.”

Charlie nodded solemnly and did not correct Radcliffe’s polite phrasing.
Partners
was a bit of an ambitious word to use for the investors who threw in with Radcliffe. The man was a genius, according to what her father had always told her. He had the Midas touch. Any investment he made paid back in at least triplicate. Everyone knew this and everyone wished to invest with him, but he was a choosy fellow. Very few people were invited to invest with him, and if one was not invited, one did not invest. As for it being a partnership, there really was none. The investors often had no idea where their money went, and fewer still really cared so long as it paid off. Radcliffe did all the thinking in the investments; those who he invited along simply rode on the coattails of his genius.