Reckless Rules (Brambridge Novel 4) (26 page)

Bill swallowed. Pablo Moreno clearly was as mad as his son. “I’m as sorry, sir,” he said his lips trembling. “Might you tell me why she is yours so that I don’t offend Master Moreno again?”

Damn but he had probably overdone it with the simple act this time. He couldn’t remember whether he had acted the same when he had performed in front of Pablo Moreno the first time. He hoped that the man would put it down to nerves. Certainly he was finding it hard to think straight as the offending knife dug deeper into chemise again.

“You may not. Suffice it to say it is family business.” Bill sighed again as Pablo Moreno took a step back and drew the knife with him. “I don’t expect men of your ilk to understand. However this woman is mine by birthright. Only I am allowed to create havoc in her life. Not low born strongmen like yourself.”

If Bill was lowborn what did that make Pablo Moreno? The King of bloody Sweden? Something was not quite right. Family business seemed rather fishy to him.

“Of course, sir,” Bill said, bowing his head. He shuffled to the side as Pablo picked up his top hat and shoved the knife down the side of his boot.

“If she comes tries to meet you again, you send her to me. Do you hear?”

Bill nodded his head, turned away from Pablo. He tensed, knowing what was coming. He wasn’t disappointed. Pablo grunted as his fist connected with Bill’s hard stomach muscles. It wouldn’t have hurt normally given the excellent condition that Bill was in, but he had been reminded earlier how much his body was suffering. The overused stomach muscles collapsed in one go and Bill slid to the floor with an ‘oof’.

Damn damn damn.
They always did that, the bullies. They had one last go when they knew that they had the upper hand, knowing that it was unlikely there would be any come back.

Well, he would be unlikely to be sending Lady Colchester to see Pablo Moreno, as he didn’t think she was returning. She had been rather final in her goodbye. Although that didn’t mean to say he wasn’t going to protect her. Someone had to warn her that Pablo Moreno was after her, and seemed to be under the impression that it was of the nature of family business.

CHAPTER 25

Victoria heard the front door knocker slam and voices in the hall as she sat in the full sunlight of her bedroom. Knowing that Carruthers would deal with it, she closed her eyes and let the gentle warmth caress her skin. Its touch reminded her of the way Bill had kissed her, held her hand, and run his tongue over her palm.

No. That wasn’t right. He hadn’t done that.
At least not yet.
She opened her eyes and glanced downwards. Brutus’ melting eyes gazed at her along with the brighter ones of Ponzi. Brutus’ tongue lolled out of his mouth and another drip of saliva fell onto her hand again.

“Bleugh! Brutus!” Really she would be glad when the walking mat was returned to his rightful owner. Victoria tried to get up, but Brutus laid his head on her lap and leaned. “Brutus, get off,” she tried again, but the dog had once again developed a mind of his own. “Brutus, I need to see who is in the hallway.”

Brutus blinked lazily at her and, whilst still leaning, bared his teeth. A very low rumble sounded in his throat. Was he
growling
? It was the first time Victoria had heard him do so. She drew her chin back into her neck. “Brutus, I didn’t ask you to come here so don’t growl at me. Ponzi, please persuade him to get off.”

Ponzi laid her head on her paws and howled. Another exhibition of out of character behavior. Ponzi never howled. Tentatively Victoria pushed at Brutus’ head. It was like trying to move stone.

“I’ll send Ponzi away if you keep this up,” she threatened. Brutus turned his head sharply. He really was the most intelligent animal, despite his great appearance. As if with great reluctance, he climbed to his feet and stood by her side.

Victoria narrowed her eyes at the two dogs. Something was up. Admonishing them to stay in the bedroom, she trotted into the hall. An out of breath Carruthers met her on the landing.

“Paul Butterworth is here to see you, my lady. He won’t take no for an answer. He seems agitated.”

Carruthers jumped as a low growl emanated through the hall. Brutus appeared from the shadows, his tail low and his head forward. Carruthers plastered himself against the wall as the great dog approached. But Brutus paid Carruthers no attention and clattered down the stairs, his nails clipping at the stone steps. Ponzi streaked past like a maelstrom, following her companion.

A great shout resounded from the drawing room. “Oh my goodness,” exclaimed Carruthers, his habitual calm broken. “That’s where I put Mr. Butterworth.”

With little regard for propriety, Victoria pulled up the full skirts of her dress and ran down the mansion steps two at a time. Carruthers followed her, wheezing as he went. She did not stop when she entered the downstairs hall but pushed straight into the drawing room. Ponzi and Brutus stood, their hackles raised in the center of the room, growling loudly. Two of Victoria’s spindly chairs lay smashed on the floor. From above their wreckage, a top hat rose, and the tip of a very long knife.

“If you weren’t such a big animal I would have gutted and skinned you by now,” said the voice under the top hat. “I’ll get you at some point. I always do.”

“I’ll thank you not to speak to my dogs like that,” The tips of Victoria’s fingers tingled. She wanted to tear the top hat off the
bastard’s
head. “Brutus, Ponzi, as much as I regret asking this, please go into the hall. Now.”

Victoria slapped her hand against her thigh. Brutus swung his head to look at her. His brown melting eyes were now as hard as steel. Oh, he reminded her of someone else indeed. But that man wasn’t here at the moment. Even if she wished he was.

“I said now.” Victoria summoned every ounce of ice in her soul. Brutus’ tail dropped and he backed away to the doorway of the drawing room. Ponzi followed, stood on her hind legs and licked the great dog under the jaw. His throat rumbled again.

When Victoria judged that he was far enough away, she turned back to the broken chairs. “You may come out now, Mr. Butterworth.”

The outsize top hat rose from the jumble of furniture to reveal Mr. Butterworth, still clutching his knife in his hands.

“I would thank you to drop the knife,” Victoria warned. “Otherwise I will ask Brutus to return to the center of the room.”

Mr. Butterworth bared his teeth and dropped the large knife on the desk. It was of an unusual Indian design with ornate carvings of elephants on the handle.

“Would you care for some tea?” Victoria hoped that the normality would calm the man down.

“Tea? You ask for tea at a time like this?”

“Mr. Butterworth.” Victoria stopped. “I’m sorry, what should I call you? Durnish, Butterworth,
Moreno
?”

“So it was you at the Last Act.”

Victoria blinked. Third rule, third rule. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Blast. She had made a mistake.

“I always knew my brother went for ladies of dubious virtue but you showed us up with your behavior.”

“I beg your pardon.
Us
?” His brother? What had his brother got to do with her kissing Bill? And in terms of her showing Moreno up with her behavior—

“I’ll take some tea. And you can call me Moreno, or better yet Pablo since we are related. Haven’t answered to Butterworth or Durnish for years.”

Victoria nodded. The man was obviously mad. She eyed the large knife that he had left on the table. Victoria called softly for Carruthers, who appeared immediately. It seemed that he had been standing behind the dogs.

Moreno snorted. “So you have not two, but three guard dogs. Very sensible.”

“Tea please, Carruthers. And a new chair for my guest.” Carruthers jerked his head and disappeared briefly. He was back almost immediately.

“I have asked the footmen to handle it, my lady.” Carruthers blinked. “Do you require any other
help
?”

Victoria glanced down at her rigid dogs. “Not currently.” She stood back to let the footmen remove the broken furniture and place two new chairs in the room. She breathed more easily as they set the chairs a good few paces apart. She did not want to go near this man.

“Please serve the tea for us now, Carruthers.” The butler nodded.

Victoria glided towards the nearest chair and sat down. “If you please
Pablo
,” she said, gesturing to the other chair.

The man grinned. “So prettily done. My brother had taste.”

Victoria had had enough. “I’m sorry. You must be deluded. As I said to you when I believed that you were Mr. Butterworth, your brother is dead. I never met him. I cannot help bring him back.”

Pablo threw back his head and laughed. The top hat remained firmly glued to his head. “Of course he is dead,” he said, choking. “But he hasn’t been dead for long. About five years, I would say.”

“I am sorry that I never met him.”

“Of course you met him. Think, woman. What happened five years ago?”

“Nothing of importance.”

“You call your husband dying nothing of importance? Hah. Well done, my dear brother. Even your bride didn’t care for you.”

Victoria held out a hand for the teacup that Carruthers was offering her but changed her mind. She could feel her fingers shaking. She wouldn’t be able to hold the saucer without it rattling. She pointed at the table silently and took a deep breath.

“You believe that I was married to your brother… Pablo?”

“I don’t believe, Victoria, I
know
.”

“Kindly do not refer to me as Victoria. I have told you before. Lady Colchester will do.”      

“But you’re not,” Pablo said smugly.

“Not what?”

“Not Lady Colchester.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand.”

“Oh come on, Victoria. If only you had used rule number five,
analyse what you have learned
instead of nodding your pretty little head and protesting your innocence. You must know the story, my brother dies from a gunshot to the head, your husband shuts himself away and emerges a year later with white hair. I know the rules, he taught you the rules. Isn’t it obvious?”

Victoria tried to work her lips to reply but they refused to comply. Pablo smiled at her, showing sharp gleaming teeth.

“Good old Ponsonby took advantage of the man’s death to insinuate himself into the household. He’d always told me about the time when they fooled a damp squib of Colchester’s cousin into thinking that they were each other. Well this time he went one step further. He must have thought that hiding for a year would fool everyone’s memories just that little bit more. Going white-haired must have been a boon. I was the same. First hair appeared at my supposed brother’s funeral.”

Victoria made one last ditch attempt for sanity. “As I recall you left after your brother’s funeral and never came back. You cannot have known unless he told you that he took his friend’s place.”

“Why do you think I stayed away so long?” Pablo wrinkled his lips. “The bastard wrote to me and threatened me. After all I did for him. It was only by chance when I came back five years ago after exile in Spain that I saw him on the steps of a grand house. I had to do a double take.”

“Why didn’t you approach him?”

“How do you approach a dead man? I turned up the day after and heard that he’d died in the night and that his perfect grieving widow was in seclusion.” Pablo threw back his head and laughed. “Perfect grieving widow. What a joke. Look at you fooling around with that low born strongman.”

Suddenly Pablo stood and strode to Victoria. He grabbed her wrist tightly. “How does it feel to be the same as the rest of us,
Victoria?
Your marriage was a sham. You lived in sin with a man for five years. You remain who you ever were. You may be the younger sister of a lord, but now you are a nothing if I reveal to the world your secret. All of your riches are gone, this house, the servants. It’s back to living with your faithful brother. Oh, but no, that’s a little hard as he has just got married. He’s not going to want a tainted little trollop sitting in his nest.”

Pablo spat on Victoria’s dress as he enunciated the word trollop and screamed as Brutus bit strongly into the seat of his breeches. Victoria could only watch numbly as Pablo’s hand tightened around her wrist.

“Get that damn dog off me, Victoria, do you hear? As my brother’s widow you are now under my protection and I tell you what to do. You can start by killing this dog.”

Pushing her chair back, Victoria stood, ducking away from Pablo’s bent figure. Firmly, she tried to unpeel Pablo’s clutching hand from her wrist, but his grasp was too strong.

“What is that strong man to you, Victoria? Who is he?” Pablo’s voice finished in a yelp as Brutus closed his jaw further. He closed his eyes and opened them suddenly, his pupils wide. “I wasn’t using rule five myself. The perfect Lady Colchester with a low down strongman? Ridiculous.”

Victoria renewed her efforts to lever up Pablo’s fingers. Numbness spread through her arm as bile rose in her throat.

“I thought I was being watched but I never thought that someone would be audacious enough to join my troupe under my very nose. Such a talented man at that. He must rue the day he met you now. Hah—”

“Enough,
Pablo.
” Victoria took hold of one of his fingers and squeezed hard. The man yelled. “Get out of my house and out of my life. Think about putting any of those rumors out, and your livelihood dies. I’ll have you transported to America before that.”

“You can’t—”

“I can. You think those rules were taught to me for nothing? I can pull so many strings that you will be caught in a net that you will never be able to get out of.” Victoria brought her face close to Pablo’s and whispered in his ear. “And that strongman? Never met him before in his life. Why do you think your brother married me? Because I am a harlot at heart, of course. I get it where I can, and he was convenient. Anyone can play the role of a devoted wife even if they
hate
their husband. Dear old dead
Poisonby
.”