Read The Earl and the Highwayman's Daughter Online
Authors: Maggi Andersen
The Earl and the Highwayman's Daughter (15 page)
“Of course we can. An excellent idea. I’ll get a special license. You’re under age, but I don’t see that it will be a problem.”
“I doubt Mortland will object to the marriage.”
“No.” He thought again of the duke’s eyes darkened with hate and wished the man to Hades.
AFTER BREAKFAST the next morning, Brendan, Eugenia, and Chloe joined the few early riders in Rotten Row. Eugenia watched Brendan on his black stallion, riding ahead with a friend in deep conversation. She sighed. How handsome he was. When he’d kissed her last night, she wished he hadn’t stopped.
She liked the well-bred mare Brendan had chosen for her. “Why can’t we gallop in the park?” she asked Chloe, who rode beside her.
“It simply isn’t done, my dear.” Chloe glanced at her. “I would not be tempted to flaunt convention, Eugenia. No matter how much you wish to. Not until you’ve been married for some years and any eccentric behavior is tolerated.”
A man approached, trotting toward them. Eugenia waved. “Why, here comes Lord Beale. He looks very pleased.”
Chloe smiled. “He is. Do you know this time we’ve spent apart has been a most successful exercise? He appreciates me more.” She giggled. “And I appreciate him.”
Eugenia laughed. “I’m delighted to hear that your enforced separation wasn’t a complete trial to you both.”
“
Au contraire
.” Chloe nodded to her husband as he rode up beside them and bowed in the saddle.
When Brendan joined them, they cantered to Serpentine Road, where carriages had stopped on South Carriage Drive. A group of horse riders milled around. “I wonder what this is about?” Brendan said. “I’ll go and see.”
He rode back sober-faced.
“What is it, Trentham?” Beale asked.
“News has just come from the country.” Brendan moved his horse beside Eugenia’s. “This will shock you, sweetheart. The Duke of Mortland is dead.”
She stared at him. “Dead?”
“A fellow by the name of Jake Small murdered him.”
“Good God!” Chloe reached for Lord Beale’s hand.
Eugenia drew in a breath. “Why Brendan? Do you know?”
“Small believed Mortland was behind the fire that killed his fiancée. He’s been stewing over it for years. Waited for him early this morning as the duke rode over his estate. Pinned him to the ground with a pitchfork, apparently. Then he gave himself up to the local magistrate.”
“Someone was bound to do it one day,” Lord Beale observed pragmatically.
“Come, let’s return home,” Brendan said. “Beale, you’ll join us for luncheon?”
“Indeed I will.”
As they rode back through the park, Genie joined them.
“You’ve heard the news,” she asked, her eyes tearfully.
Eugenia felt deeply sorry for her. “Genie, I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, as everyone offered their sympathy.
“Thank you. May I ride a little way with you?”
“Please do,” Eugenia said.
When Brendan, Beale, and Chloe rode ahead toward the park gates, Genie drew her mount close. “The murderer must have been deranged. We’ll never know why he would commit such a violent act. You must be distressed, my dear, to lose your father before you even got to know him. I hope you are not cast too low. I was pleased to learn of your engagement and trust we’ll see a lot of each other during the Season.”
“We are to marry at Lilac Park, and will remain in the country for some months. You must visit us there when we have a house party, but this won’t be for a while, you understand.”
“Of course. We must observe the mourning period. I shall look forward to it.” Genie smiled. “You have a large family eager to meet you when the time is right.”
Eugenia felt a swift rush of warmth. “I have brothers and sisters?”
“No, the duchess was unable to have children. I have four children, two are married. And my brother, Ainsley, is the heir to the dukedom. He returns from the Continent with his family soon.” She leaned across to touch Eugenia’s arm. “Another thing my dear. Mortland told me only yesterday, that he was settling a handsome dowry on you.”
“A dowry?”
“Yes he was much struck that he had a daughter it seems. He said you remind him of a lost love.” She looked up. “I see your handsome fiancé awaits. I must return home. This family has been touched too often by tragedy.”
“Are you all right, sweetheart?” Brendan studied her as she joined them to ride to the stables.
She nodded thoughtfully. It had been a shock. Mortland had entered her life and exited it again so quickly. And now to think he’d wanted to accept her as his daughter. But at breakfast, Brendan had told her the extent of the duke’s culpability. It squeezed her heart to realize how her poor mother must have suffered. Mama must have guessed what Mortland was planning, and would have been afraid that he’d come after her. No wonder she’d never wanted Eugenia to know anything about her past. Peter Hawthorne had been more a father to Eugenia for all his faults. And Mortland could no longer hurt them. She smiled into Brendan’s blue eyes. “I am.”
EUGENIA AWOKE and stretched in the luxurious duchess’ suite, all yellows, whites and golds. Daylight peeked through damask curtains lined with gold silk. She smiled, feeling safe, and warm, and loved. Her handsome husband took up a large amount of the bed beside her. Eugenia smiled, recalling how he’d come to her through the interconnecting door last night, splendidly naked beneath his silk banyan. He’d made love to her so tenderly, and then again quite passionately only a few hours ago. She shivered with delight recalling the blissful details, and ran her fingers over the smooth olive-toned skin of his chest. “Are you awake?”
Smiling, heavy-lidded blue eyes met hers. “I am now,” he said with a quirk of his lips.
“I have been thinking,” she said, although his hand cupping her breast and thumbing a nipple made it difficult for her to retain the thought.
“Mmm?”
“Are you listening?” Slipping into a haze of desire, she grappled with the thread of the conversation.
He caressed her hip with a tempting smile. “You have my attention, although I’m surprised to find you awake so early.”
Her cheeks heated, she’d never realized that this side of marriage could be so…delicious. “Perhaps Molly should be returned to the walled garden. I’m worried that she’s not happy at the home farm.”
“I’m sure my gardener will welcome the goose with open arms,” Brendan said, tracing a finger around her navel.
Shivers of delight followed his touch. “William is a friend. He will understand.” She was not entirely sure that was true. Molly did fancy his herbaceous border. She pushed back a silky lock of hair from his brow. “It’s wonderful to be here amongst my friends again, Barker, Vanessa, and Jeremy.”
“I’ve already explained, my love, that a countess doesn’t make friends of her servants…oh never mind. I am feeling far too contented with the world this morning to argue. How about we visit the home farm after breakfast?”
“Oh yes, darling, thank you. Are you hungry?”
“Ravenous.” He nuzzled her neck. “For you.”
Brendan pulled her atop him, his lean length hard beneath her. His sleek caresses over her skin made her thoughts scatter. When he took her mouth in a slow, drugging kiss, her muscles turned soft, yielding to the passion he aroused in her so easily.
She framed his dear face in her hands. “I love you.”
His arms enveloped her holding her tight. “Oh, my love,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “What a lucky fellow am I. I love you with all my heart.”
After breakfast they rode to the home farm. The air was fresh and cool, and the magnificent trees had begun to turn the glorious shades of autumn. In the paddock, Molly hurried over to Eugenia, her crimson feathered tail wagging. The application of the dye,
Cochineal
had been Vanessa’s idea to protect Molly from the pot. A handsome gander followed the goose but stopped a few feet away.
“Molly girl, are you happy here?” Eugenia asked. Molly stretched her neck to be petted and then turned and waddled back to the gander. Eugenia laughed, but she felt a little sad as she retraced her steps to where Brendan waited with the horses.
“It seems Molly has found a new love. She doesn’t need me anymore.”
“Will I do?”
She laughed up at him. He was gorgeous, and he was hers. The weather had been perfect yesterday when the vicar had presided over their small wedding in the village church. Except for the Beales, and the best man, fair-haired James Belvedere, Viscount Fairbank, no guests were invited. Chloe had waited upon her and to Eugenia’s surprise, her papa agreed to give her away. The tenants and villagers came to cheer them, clustered ten-deep around at the church door. Eugenia had chosen to wear a muslin gown with a lace bodice, long sleeves with lace cuffs and rows of lace at the hem, a pink bonnet trimmed with roses, and Chloe’s pearls. Brendan was dashing in a double-breasted dark blue tailcoat with gold buttons, white waistcoat and buff trousers. After the wedding breakfast, where champagne was served to toast the occasion, Chloe had made good her promise and left for Beale Park with her jubilant husband. James had tactfully declined the invitation to stay on for a week, and ridden off after breakfast.
“You are a remarkably good husband to allow me to come here this morning.”
“I agree, remarkable indeed, to give sway to a goose,” Brendan said with a sparkle in his eyes. “My patience is not boundless, however.” He swung her up onto her horse. “I want my wife to myself.”
She arranged her new emerald green habit over her legs and took up the reins. “I was so pleased that Papa consented to give me away. I wish he and Mary had accepted our invitation to the wedding breakfast, though.”
“Hawthorne looked proud as punch and well turned out,” Brendan said. “Quite respectable.”
She laughed. “Yes, his new wife has taken him in hand. Mary told me he has retired. He spends all his time tending the farm.”
“Yes, Hawthorne says that as a result of the stipend I pay him he’s made many improvements to the farm. It has become quite profitable. But he insists I keep up the arrangement. I shall continue to do so just to keep him from holding up unsuspecting travelers on the King’s roads. Terrible old rogue your papa is.” He glanced at her. “I always wanted to ask you if that story you told me about the bruise on your arm was true. I suspected it was your papa.”
“No, papa would never hurt me. Molly had got into the pig pen and I ran in to grab her, and when Portia nudged me behind the knees, I fell against the fence.”
“Who is Portia?”
“Our prize sow. I gave some of the animal’s names and as she was a great breeder she was safe from the market.”
Brendan gave a hoot of laughter. “You are a constant delight, my love. I was going to question Hawthorne as to how much he knew about Mortland. I suspect more than he admitted. But it doesn’t matter now.”
“No. It’s in the past.” In a few months she would meet her newly acquired family. But now her thoughts were filled with Brendan.
“I am glad you have given me a more obliging horse.” Eugenia patted the neck of her roan. She slapped the reins and urged her horse into a canter. “Although I will still exercise Grey Dreamer occasionally.”
“I prefer that you don’t,” Brendan said as he joined her. “That horse is the very devil.”
“Nonsense. I promise to keep her away from the roses.” She laughed. “Race you back to the stables. I am eager to finish that game of chess we began before we went to London. I believe I have thought of a way to beat you.”
“Oh you have, have you? I had something else entirely in mind for this afternoon,” Brendan called. “Wait for me, hoyden.” Laughing, he edged his horse alongside hers, and they galloped over the gravel.
Maggi Andersen and her husband, a retired lawyer, live in a quaint old town in the Southern Highlands of New South Wales, Australia. She has a BA in English and an MA in Creative Writing.
When not creating stories, Maggi reads, enjoys her garden, long walks and feeding the local wildlife. Her kookaburras (Australian Kingfishers) prefer to be hand fed.
Maggi’s books and novellas are Amazon bestsellers in Regency and suspense. She has published more than 20 novels and novellas and writes in several genres, contemporary and historical romance, romantic suspense and young adult novels.
Maggi loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website.
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