The Viscount and the Virgin (22 page)

Stephen's gaze followed her movements. When he saw the state of her feet, he drew in a breath.

‘I have to go out soon. It cannot be avoided. But Aktash will see to all your needs,' he said, crossing to the bell pull and tugging on it. ‘You shall have shelter for the night. You stayed with me all night. You did your best to look after me. Now I do the same for you. And we are even,' he said fiercely. ‘In the morning, we will discuss what your next move should be.'

Midge almost burst into tears again. She was safe, for now. But, oh, the problems she was going to have to face in the morning! Why, oh, why could she never think before charging off on one of her wild exploits? No wonder Monty was sick and tired of her. She was sick and tired of herself.

 

‘What do you mean, she has disappeared?'

Monty glowered at his father, completely at a loss to understand how Midge could have vanished from a house that was teeming with so many servants.

‘Somebody must have some idea where she is!'

Pansy, who had been summoned the moment Monty arrived at Shevington Court, wrung her hands. ‘It wasn't till this morning, when I saw her bed had not been slept in, I got worried. Well, you know her routine. I only go up to her room now if she summons me special, excepting to take her break fast up and help her dress for the day.'

Cobbett cleared his throat. ‘I believe I was the last person to see her, my lord,' he admitted guiltily. ‘When I took up her post.'

Monty drew in a deep breath, stifling the urge to hit the poor fellow. It was not his fault that nobody had
organized any kind of search party. Ever since Pansy had reported her missing, everyone seemed to have begun blaming everyone else. It was a wonder anybody had actually had the presence of mind to send for him at all.

‘I had not yet instructed the staff to organize a watch on her movements,' admitted the earl. ‘She was too quick for me. It is the way with women like that. You made a serious error of judgement, thinking you could tame Framlingham's daughter.'

‘What?' Monty whirled round to stare at him. ‘What are you insinuating?'

‘Am I not making myself clear enough for you?' He sneered. ‘I had already caught her trying to sneak down to the stables, the minute you had gone. I put a stop to that, you may be sure. Told her I knew what she was about!'

Monty shook his head impatiently. ‘Midge gave me her word she would not go riding—'

‘Not four-legged beasts, perhaps. But there are other attractions to be found in the stables for women like her.'

It was all Monty could do not to fly at the dirty-minded old man, casting aspersions on Midge's character, with servants present, too! Clenching his fists, he growled, ‘Do you mean to tell me you accused her of plotting to seduce one of the grooms? Is that it? I would not have thought even you could stoop so low.'

The earl collapsed into his chair, his face growing pale. ‘You should have been here to keep her under control,' he said querulously. ‘I should not have to deal with such a termagant.'

‘Gave you back as good as she got, did she?' said Monty with satisfaction. ‘Good for her!'

‘I should have known you would somehow ruin my plans for the next generation of Claremonts,' muttered the earl peevishly. ‘Bringing a creature like that to Shevington. I am supposed to have complete peace and quiet!'

‘Well, don't worry!' snapped Monty, turning on his heel. ‘Once I find her, you may be sure neither of us will be returning to this benighted place!'

Muttering under his breath, Monty took the stairs to their suite two at a time. He did not know what he expected to find when he got there. It was just that that was where he pictured her. And the last place anyone had seen her.

When he strode into their sitting room, the first thing he saw was the vase, which she had taken such pains to save, lying smashed to pieces in the fire place. So many pieces—it must have been hurled to the ground with some force!

Midge had been furious. And who could blame her? His father was the outside of enough.

And far more unstable than even he had suspected. The earl had been so pleased Midge was pregnant. Monty would have thought that would have been enough to protect her from falling foul of one of his father's irrational out bursts.

Apparently not
, he thought bitterly, nudging at some of the larger pieces of pottery with the toe of his boot.

Then some thing else caught his eye. A single sheet of writing paper. He picked it up, scanned it swiftly and screwed his eyes shut against the clipped, formal language in forming her of her stepbrother's death.

My God! He sank to the sofa, his head in his hands. Just when she had needed him most, he had not been
here. He had gone running off to London, in a stupid attempt to preserve his own pride.

But what good was his damned dignity if he had lost her?

He could picture how it must have been. The scene with his father, and then getting news like that. She must have been beside herself to have hurled the vase into the fire place with such force. And then what? Knowing Midge, she had probably gone charging off without giving a thought to where she was going. Unless there was some particular spot on the estate she had grown fond of. Where she might go to find some kind of solace.

But then, why had she not returned at night fall?

His stomach clenched as he pictured her stumbling down the main stairs, weeping…running out into the woods she loved so much…falling…lying injured and so badly hurt she was unable to rise. And he cursed himself for not spending more time with her. For working so hard to prove himself worthy of the position he would one day fill. For putting his father's demands before her needs. Now the only people who might know where she might have gone were the twins, with whom she had spent the majority of her time.

The twins! His father was sending them away, any day now, but they had not gone yet.

Shooting to his feet, he charged along the corridor and up the stairs to the set of rooms in the attics they in habited.

They looked up from where they were kneeling on the floor packing their trunks, when he burst in upon them.

‘Do you know where she might have gone?' he blurted.

They both looked at the screwed-up piece of paper he was still clutching in his hand.

‘Doesn't it say in her note?' said Jem, at the exact same moment Tobe said, ‘Just like our mother.'

‘What?' Monty looked from one to the other, in complete bewilderment.

‘We're sorry, Vern,' said Jem, getting up and wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

‘She betrayed us, too.'

‘Getting us banished from Shevington, coz there's only room for one baby in the nursery!'

‘And then running off with her fancy man!' said Tobe indignantly. ‘If she was gonna do that to you, there was no need to get us sent to school!'

‘She has not run off with a fancy man!' Monty protested. ‘She must have met with an accident. She is out there some where.' He waved his arm towards the window that over looked their beloved woods. ‘Does she have a favourite place? Some where she would go if she was upset?'

The twins looked at each other and he could see some message pass between them, before Jem looked him straight in the eye and declared, with touching sympathy, ‘Vern, we
told
you, she's gone to the Silent Woman to meet her fancy man!'

‘Hanging around here for days, he was.'

‘And she pre tended she didn't want to see him.'

‘But as soon as you left, she went straight off after him like a shot!'

A new fear gripped Monty as he recalled the dreamy expression on her face, the night he had assaulted her on Lady Carteret's terrace. Her insistence it had been produced by thinking about some other man. How, a
few days ago, she had thrust a letter into the flames and lied about its contents. And how her face had closed up when he had for bid den her to go to London with him.

He strode towards the window, running the fingers of one hand through his hair, whilst crumpling the letter from her step brother in the other.

He was constantly running up against the spectre of that Other Man!

But surely, Midge would not just run out on him? She was too honest, too direct to behave in such a sneaky way. And now that she was expecting, too…hell, she knew how much this child meant to everyone at Shevington!

No, he could not believe she would be so deliberately cruel. She did not have a cruel bone in her body.

And what was more, he could not believe she could have made love with him with such wild abandon, if any other man was of the least importance to her. She was not the wanton his father painted her! Why, when he thought how embarrassed she became whenever he at tempted to take their love making to a new level…

He rounded on the twins, his eyes narrowing. For some reason, they were lying to him.

‘Tell me what has really happened,' he growled, seizing each of them by one ear. ‘Or so help me I will make you rue the day you were born!'

‘Ow, stop it!'

‘Let go!'

‘Not until you tell me the truth!'

‘We have! We have! She's gone to the Silent Woman!'

‘She must have,' whined Tobe. ‘We took the message
from the man on the black horse, and then we saw her running off in the direction of the village!'

‘Man on the black horse?' he said, abruptly letting them go. ‘There really was a man asking to see her? What,' he asked, dreading their answer, ‘exactly does he look like?'

‘Like a Gypsy,' said Jem without hesitation.

‘Yes, he's got an earring and a dagger in his boot and everything!'

A chill tied his guts into a knot as he saw, finally, why she had not come back.

He had not been able to believe Midge could be un faithful. But he could believe that, in her naiveté, she had gone running off to meet Stephen after the dreadful day she'd had! For she had no idea how dangerous the man was.

Because he had never warned her.

He had thought he was shielding her from distress by not telling her how the fiend had abducted Marcus Carlow's wife. He had not wanted her upset by learning how the devil had plotted to ruin Stanegate's sister Honoria, either.

But when he thought of the silken noose Stephen had sent her, as a warning of his intentions, his stomach turned over.

Dear God, if any harm came to her…

With a face like thunder, he thrust the twins aside and made straight for the stables. She had already been in his clutches for over a day. But he would find her.

And heaven help that Gypsy bastard when he did!

M
idge did not wake the next day until nearly noon. And then only because a thin, sallow-faced maid came bustling into her room with a break fast tray.

She also brought water for washing, and a complete set of clean clothing. When Midge tried to thank her, she just shrugged, and said, ‘Master's orders,' in a dismissive tone.

Once Midge had settled her stomach with a plate of toast and washed and dressed, the girl led her down stairs to a room she de scribed as a library, although it did not contain many books, and handed her over to Akshat.

‘Stephen Sahib regrets he has to attend to some business today. He will return about seven this evening. If you are still here when he returns, he will dine at home. In the meantime, my instructions are to provide you with whatever you require,' he said, and bowed respectfully.

The trouble was, she had not been able to think of anything she did need. She was already feeling overwhelmed by the extent of Stephen's hospitality.

‘Th-thank you,' she eventually managed to stammer. ‘If I think of anything…'

The Indian man servant had indicated the latest issue of the
Times
spread out on a table under the window. ‘Perhaps you would care to read. But if there is anything else—' he made a graceful gesture towards the bell pull by the fire place ‘—you have only to ring.'

Midge had meekly walked over to the table and looked down, but her eyes only flicked over the closely packed columns of news print without registering a single word.

She was reeling from the thinly veiled message Stephen had delivered via Akshat. Stephen would put off whatever he had planned to do this evening if she was still there when he got home. But he more than half expected her to shake the dust from her feet the moment she woke up.

She shook her head. How could he think she would just leave and waste this heaven-sent opportunity to get to know each other? He was the only real sibling she had. Nick's attitude had brought it home to her, as nothing else could have done, that she had to stop regarding Hugh Bredon's sons as her brothers.

Though even if she
had
wanted to leave, she had nowhere else to go and no means of getting any where. She was
not
going to turn up on Monty's doorstep, in only the clothes she stood up in, and grovel to him for admittance! Not when she knew she was the very last person he wanted to see.

She took a sharp breath, raised her head and stared sightlessly out of the window. She had hoped that after a good night's sleep, she would have come up with some notion of what she ought to do next. But the sad truth
was that she had no idea how she was going to get out of this fix.

The same tree that obscured the view from her bedroom window grew right outside this room. But by pressing her nose against the window pane, she could make out an area of greenery in the centre of the square. That was what she would do! Take a walk: maybe that would clear her mind. At least it would be better than moping about indoors, feeling sorry for herself.

But when she opened the door to the hall, she found Akshat standing right outside.

‘Are you leaving, Mem Sahib? Is there any message you wished to leave for Stephen Sahib?'

‘N-no!' she denied hotly. ‘I just thought I would get some fresh air. It is such a lovely day, and there seems to be a sort of little park area just outside?'

The servant's stance relaxed. ‘Please wait here, Mem Sahib, while the girl fetches your bonnet and coat.'

‘Oh, but I don't have a coat with me!'

‘Stephen Sahib has provided all you may need,' he stated firmly.

He certainly had! Midge's throat felt thick with emotion as she backed into the library to wait for the maid who brought her some very serviceable out door clothing. Surely, this must mean that his attitude towards her was mellowing?

‘I am to accompany you, Mem Sahib,' Akshat informed her, as he opened the front door.

‘Oh, I am sure there is no need for that. I am only going to take a turn about the square!'

‘Stephen Sahib has ordered me to guard you with my life while you are his guest.' His hand made a slight movement towards his waist, and she saw, with aston
ishment, the jewelled hilt of an oriental-looking dagger tucked into the belt.

Midge blinked. His statement and his gesture towards the knife belt seemed rather melodramatic to her, but she had no intention of wounding the sensibilities of a servant who was so determined to carry out his master's orders to the letter. Besides, she
had
read recently that two people had been killed by soldiers when a mob had attacked a Tory minister's home. She was not certain how far from this area that event had taken place, but she supposed it might have left Londoners a little nervous.

It felt unreal, going down the front steps, carefully wrapped up against any chance breeze, and duly escorted by such an exotic armed body guard. She stifled the urge to giggle. Why, her own aunt had not had her chaperoned so zealously!

Though the area was not a fashionable one, all the houses that stood round the square, Stephen's included, looked as though they belonged to prosperous families.

He must, she thought with some surprise as she craned her neck to look up at the window of the room she'd slept in the night before, be quite a wealthy man.

So why had he turned up at her wedding, wearing clothing that made him look like a vagrant?

She could not understand him at all. One minute he was wrecking her wedding, the next he was providing her with a body guard. He dressed like a Gypsy, yet lived in a house fit for a gentleman.

She shook her head, feeling suddenly over whelmed by it all. And she was so tired! All she wanted to do was crawl back to bed, pull the covers over her head and shut out every single one of her problems. Akshat
shadowed her back to the house and handed her over to the maid.

She fell deeply asleep the moment she laid her head on the pillow and did not wake until the maid came clattering in with a can of hot water.

Midge sat up, rubbing her eyes and pushing her hair from her face.

‘What time is it?'

‘Time to be getting dressed for dinner, Miss,' the woman replied with a hint of reproach in her voice. ‘Mr Stephen is back from work and waiting for you.'

The woman clearly adored Stephen, she thought, rather startled, as she got out of bed and stumbled to the wash stand. She seemed to think Midge should have been eagerly awaiting his return, not lounging about in bed.

Stephen had provided her with another outfit, this one suitable for evening wear. When she looked at herself in the mirror, Midge thought she could have dined anywhere in such a beautifully tasteful garment. The under skirt was of pale blue satin, with a gossamer-fine silk over dress in an even lighter hue. She caught a wistful expression on the serving woman's face, as she set about brushing her hair, and wondered if she was the one who had been sent out to buy the gown.

Only, how would a woman who worked in a bachelor house hold know what to buy for a lady? She looked at the woman out of the corner of her eye with misgiving. Although she spoke politely enough, her voice was quite coarse, her accent reminding Midge of the women who sold flowers and fruit outside the theatres she had attended whilst staying with her aunt.

Better not ask too many questions, she decided as the
maid draped a matching shawl about her shoulders. A man as blatantly virile as Stephen was bound to have a mistress. Though, she frowned, this gown had surely been purchased for a lady of quality, not a lady of the night.

Stephen was sitting in the small parlour Akshat had taken her to the previous night, tapping one forefinger irritably against the arm of his chair.

‘I must thank you for your generosity, S-Stephen,' she stammered as he got to his feet. ‘For taking me in last night, when I was in such distress, and having me cared for today with such kindness.'

‘It is no easy matter to ignore blood ties,' he said gruffly, gesturing towards the open dining-room door impatiently. Midge could see a table had been laid for two.

He held her chair for her, and when she was seated, took the place opposite her and flicked his napkin across his lap with a snap.

‘I find it significant that our paths should cross at this time,' he said enigmatically as a young footman in smart green-and-gold livery ladled soup into her bowl.

Midge stared at Stephen. He spoke as if their meeting had been some kind of chance event, but he had deliberately revealed his existence on her wedding day.

‘Where does your destiny lie now, I wonder,' he said, once the servant had departed soundlessly. ‘You have run away from your husband. Do you now wish to make your home with me?'

Midge dropped her spoon into her bowl with a splash. She had
not
run away from Monty. Not intentionally. But, oh, dear, that was how it was going to look. She felt her cheeks heating as she clumsily tried to retrieve the
spoon without getting soup on her fingers. Her aunt had always chided her for acting without thinking, warning her that one day her impulsive behaviour would lead to disaster.

She rather thought this might be a disaster of some magnitude. She had already decided she had too much pride to go round to Hanover Square. Slinking back to Shevington Court, knowing what she knew, would be even more demeaning.

But if she stayed here with Stephen, everyone
would
assume she had left her husband!

Which was a totally outrageous thing to do. Her aunt had warned her that the heir to the Earldom of Corfe would expect his wife to look the other way when he began to have affairs. Walking out of a marriage of convenience, on the flimsy pretext that she could not bear to think of Monty with a mistress, would create a scandal that would make his stepmother's affairs pale into in significance.

She extricated the spoon and held it, dripping, over the bowl, her mind whirling.

‘You may do so, if you wish.'

She looked up, startled. ‘I had not thought that far ahead,' she admitted, worrying at her lower lip. As usual, she had not been thinking at all. Only reacting to the news that Gerry was dead, and she was all alone. Her instinct had been to fly to the only person in the district she felt she had any connection to. And then, when Nick had repulsed her, she had done the same thing again. Exhausted, distraught, all that was in her head was the knowledge that Stephen was nearby.

A smile tugged at the corner of Stephen's mouth.
‘If you lived with me, I would let you do whatever you wanted,' he murmured seductively.

She set down her soup spoon firmly, her heart sinking as everything suddenly became clear. Everything he had done, from the moment they had met, had stemmed from a spirit of hostility! He was not inviting her to stay because he had suddenly developed fond feelings for her. He was just thoroughly looking forward to watching Amanda Hebden's daughter scandalizing the Ton.

By coming here, she had played right into his hands.

She picked up a napkin to wipe her sticky fingers clean, her appetite ruined. His attitude hurt her almost as much as Nick's rejection.

‘I wish I could stay with you, but not like this!' she said. ‘I only want to get to know you. Because you are my brother. Even though you harbour so much bitterness towards me. Stephen—' she reached her hand out towards him across the table ‘—none of what happened to you when we were children was my fault! And it makes me want to weep to learn of the terrible things you have been through—'

He reared back from the table so suddenly that his chair over turned.

‘I do not want your pity!'

‘What
do
you want then?' Why was it that she always seemed to be the one holding out her hand, reaching out to others, and they always, in the end, recoiled from her like this? ‘Why did you contact me again, after all these years?'

He turned from her as he righted the chair. When he spoke again, his voice was flat. ‘I have a destiny to fulfil. Justice must be done.'

‘What kind of justice is there in conniving at my ruin?' She sighed. ‘I could understand you wanting to hurt my grand father for taking you away from the only mother you had ever known and committing you to that horrible place, but he is long dead. What have I ever done to deserve your enmity?'

‘You were brought up in luxury,' he said in a voice so cold it sent a shiver down Midge's spine. ‘And now you have married a rich and titled man. You have never gone hungry one day of your life or had to steal just to stay alive.' He leaned forward, his palms flat on the table. ‘Your grand father stole everything from me! I should have been brought up just like you. Oh, I know I would never have inherited our father's title. I will never be anything but a bastard in the eyes of the society that has taken you to its heart. But he could have made sure I had a decent education and the kind of patron age that would have ensured a respectable career. Instead, I have had to claw my way out of the gutter…'

‘Oh, Stephen,' she sighed. ‘Our father's murder left a shadow over us all. Not just you! You must let go of all these vengeful thoughts. Have we not all suffered enough because of what our parents did?'

‘Who has suffered? You?' He laughed at her mockingly. ‘You have paid nothing!'

‘Oh, haven't I?' Quite suddenly, she came to the end of her tether. Leaping to her feet, she swept the half-empty soup bowl to one side with her forearm. ‘I have paid for being Kit Hebden's daughter all my life! You say you have had to claw your way up. At least you could! Because I am merely a female, I have had to exist on handouts, like the beggar you say you were. Yes, I have married a rich man, but only because he needs an
heir to set his father's mind at rest. And because my step brother asked him to take me off his hands. And because he wanted some woman he would not shed a tear over, should I happen to die in child birth. I have always been expendable. I am so in significant in the scheme of things, your mother could not even bother to curse me!' She laughed a little hysterically.