Wildfire Kiss (20 page)

“This is madness,” he said out loud, for he’d
decided to do something he would have considered unthinkable
madness even two weeks ago. Despite not considering himself ready
for marriage, despite not having observed the niceties of asking
her father’s blessing, even despite her supposed engagement to Ned,
he was going to propose.

“Very sweet, but forgive me if I do not appreciate
the eloquence of the scene,” said Sir Edward, coming up on
them.

Nick saw his beloved’s face. She appeared
devastated. Their moment together had been shattered. He had to do
something, and he had to do it immediately. Just what was Sir
Edward using to get Babs to marry him? He stepped in front of Lady
Babs and confronted Ned. “The fact is, I am not inclined to forgive
you …”

Sir Edward moved towards him ominously. “
I could
bury you for this
!”

“You are more than welcome to try …” offered
the duke, very much ready for a fight.

Babs touched Wildfire’s arm. “Nick?” Her voice was
scarcely above a whisper.

He realized if they were not careful they would
attract attention. He did not want his love’s name bandied about.
He patted her gloved hand reassuringly. “I am certain, however—” He
stared Sir Edward down. “—that we may give one another satisfaction
in this matter at another appropriate time.”

“You are right, of course,” returned Sir Edward, and
the duke could see the fury in his eyes. However, Sir Edward bent
his arm to Babs. “My lady, you will come with me.” It was said in a
tone that would brook no argument.

Babs cast the duke one quick glance that seemed to
beg him not to interfere as she placed her hand on Sir Edward’s arm
and allowed him to lead her away.

He stood and watched them reenter the ballroom. He
had done absolutely nothing to help her. This was more than he
could bear. What hold did Ned have over her? Why would she go away
with him so meekly? That was not like her. What should he do?
Damn it all to blazes
, he had to do something and soon!

Nineteen

AFFAIRS HAD PROGRESSED quite comfortably for Miss
Bretton and Sir Frederick. It was noted amongst his friends that
‘dear Freddy’ was looking his old self again and that he seemed
happier than he had been in two years.

Miss Bretton twirled her parasol happily as she
enjoyed a ride in Sir Frederick’s open curricle. He had neglected
to bring either a tiger or a driver, thinking himself capable of
handling the reins, even with his broken arm, but at some point
he’d discovered that was not the case.

Miss Bretton put away her parasol and said in some
concern as they narrowly avoided steering his single horse off the
road, “Freddy … oh my poor Freddy … would you trust me
with the reins?”

“I shall have to, for I certainly no longer trust
myself. Thought I could manage with the one good arm, but I suppose
it will take practice.”

She laughed. “No need for it. You will be healed in
no time.”

She took the reins. After a few moments she wielded
the curricle through a tricky turn, and Sir Frederick said with
deep admiration, “It appears that I am in love with a notable
whip!”

She turned her head to look at him, and he
reprimanded her, saying warningly, “Careful now, or I shall have to
take that back. You nearly ran that poor old woman down.”

“Take what back,” she returned teasingly, her gaze
back on the road. “That I am an accomplished whip or that you find
after all that you are not in love with me?”

He took the reins from her and managed to pull his
horse to a stop at the curbing. Then he turned to face her fully.
“Corry … I won’t even joke about it. Corry …” He touched
her chin as she blushed and looked away. “Look into my eyes …
there, that is it,” he said on a soft note. “I love you with every
thought, I love you with every breath, I love you forever …
but will you love me when I tell you what I have done?”

“Yes,” she said at once. “I feel the same about you
Freddy … as you do about me. You are who you are, and I know
you, and knowing you, I know you have done nothing wrong.”

“I have tried to tell you about my past. I find that
I cannot allow this to go on … you must hear me out.”

“Very well,” she said, surprising herself. “Then
please, sir, take me home. I will hear nothing against you.”

“Grow up, my only love, grow up. You must be told,
and I must be the one to do the telling.”

She caved. She could see he was desperate to tell
her. “Right then, have at it—but know this, I do not care about
your past. It is the present and the future that matter to me. If
you tell me you were a murderer, I will say: ‘Oh, were you? You
must not be one any longer.’” She took his hand. “So then …
what awful thing have you done?”

He blanched at her analogy and snatched his hand
away. “But, Corry, I am a murderer.”

“What?” she nearly shrieked. “You—I don’t believe
it. You are the gentlest man I have ever known.”

“I was involved with a young woman two and a half
years ago. I was not in love, and I don’t think she was either. In
fact, I was told she was seeing other … gentlemen while she
and I …” He shook his head. “I … she … we …” He
sighed heavily. “That I should have to tell my innocent love—”

“She became pregnant. I have traveled from the
States to London and have seen a few things, Freddy. I may be
innocent, but I am not dumb.”

“Yes, she came to me and told me that she was with
child and insisted I marry her.”

“Who was she?”

“It doesn’t matter … I was a beast. She was the
daughter of a cit—a tradesman—and I was not in love. I told her I
would take care of her … take her away to have the baby and
return her in style. I told her that she could say her husband was
killed in the war … I …” He shook his head. “I was a
cad.”

“But not a murderer,” Corry said simply.

“And not the father of her child, either. She ran
after me when I left her, and she climbed up into my curricle. She
sat there with me and told me all. She said she had planned this
with her lover … that the child was his, and she and he meant
to go off together, if I paid her an agreeable sum.” He closed his
eyes. “I should have just said yes, but I was incensed and said I
would not pay her a farthing …”

She waited as he paused.

“Then … the world went fuzzy … it all
happened so quickly. She stood up in the carriage and said she
would shout it to the world that I was the father … and that I
had better pay her anything she wanted.” He looked at Corry then.
“The milk wagon in front of us jerked, swerved out of the way of
something, I know not what, and my carriage horse nearly bolted. We
were jostled about as I tried to gain control, and she went flying
out of the curricle and head-on into traffic. She was killed
instantly …”

“Oh Freddy … oh dearest …” Corry put her
arms around him. “Not your fault. She was a criminal … and she
caused her own demise. It wasn’t your fault. Standing in a
curricle,” She clucked her tongue. “And for that … you have
suffered these two years and more?”

“I felt guilty all the same. If I had just agreed to
pay her … she would not have become enraged and stood
up …”

“Freddy … my love …”

“There will always be some who will whisper about
it … say there goes Sir Frederick, who managed to get away
with the murder of his mistress.”

“Nonsense. If someone says such a thing, they aren’t
a friend, and what do we want with such as that? No … it means
naught. Those that know you didn’t have to be there to know you did
nothing wrong.”

“Corry … oh Corry …” he said attempting to
check his passion.

She kissed his lips lightly and drew away to take up
the reins. “Let us not give those gossip mongers anything else to
chew on, though.” A short laugh escaped her, and then she said, “I
am so worried about my Babs.”

“Why? Can you confide in me? Perhaps I may be able
to help?”

“She is being compelled to marry Sir Edward against
her will.”

“Is she? I had not thought Lord Waverly … well,
he seems to dote on her …”

“No, it isn’t her father who compels her. It is Sir
Edward. He is blackmailing her into this union.”

“Blackmailed?” Freddy returned, shocked. “Dashed if
I know how he could do that?”

“Oh … would that I could tell you!” she
wailed.

***

Sir Charles patted his horse’s neck and eased him
away from the park’s traffic. He looked at the duke with some
concern. “Nick? I say, Nick, are you attending me?”

“What? Yes, of course. You think we should leave
Brighton immediately. Heard you. Leave without a word to anyone and
make our way back to London to scotch an assassination plot against
the Prince Regent.”

Sir Charles opened his eyes wide. “Well, I must say
you are taking the news rather oddly. I tell you that a plot to
kill our Prince is underway, and you behave as though it is the
merest commonplace.”

“Do I? That is because I believe the information you
have received to be without foundation.”

“Since when have I ever been an alarmist?” Sir
Charles sounded offended.

“Dash it, man, didn’t you find it odd … out of
the blue, without prior intelligence, that this piece of news came
into your hands?”

Charles frowned. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did
find it odd … but can’t be ignored, you know.”

“Yes, but the Regent is here in Brighton—”

“No, he left this morning for an emergency meeting
at the Home Office. We arranged for him to travel incognito.”

The duke barked a laugh. “What costume did he wear
this time?”

“He wanted to dress up as a Spanish count, but we
rather thought he would do better to appear to be a groom. He
didn’t like that one bit.”

“No, I imagine he will reach the Home Office in a
very bad humor.” The duke chuckled over the vision of his Prince in
rags.

“So then, do we go together?” Charles pursued.

“Satisfy me on this—does Sidmouth know about this
supposed threat to Prinny?”

“Nick, really! Do you think I would have come to you
to join me in this if Sidmouth had not specifically requested you
be brought in?”

The duke sighed. This was the worst possible timing.
He had planned on visiting Lady Babs and getting to the heart of
the problem without Sir Edward hovering about.

In fact, he had meant to get on one knee and tell
her that he damned well didn’t want to live without her as his
wife, even if the word
wife
frightened and thrilled him all
at once.

Charles said, “Nick … whatever ails you?”

“There is someone I must see before we leave.”

“Ah, I thought as much. Babs.”

“Have I been so transparent?”

Sir Charles grinned. “I know you, Nick … and I
fancy I know Babs. You two were an inevitable match … Lord
help you both.”

“Do I take that for approval or warning?” The duke
grinned.

“Both, because if I couldn’t have her as wife, might
as well have her as a cousin.”

“Well, you shan’t have her for either if we don’t
conclude our business in London quickly.”

“Why?” Sir Charles’ eyes narrowed.

“The lady in question has been persuaded to accept
Sir Edward’s suit,” said the duke grimly.

“What?” It was a shout. “Impossible. Babs doesn’t
even like him!”

“That is what I thought, but I had the news from Ned
himself.”

“Confirmed by Babs?” Charles obviously could not
believe this.

“In a manner of speaking,” the duke answered
thoughtfully. “That is why I have to see her before we leave.”

“Not wise. You will end in telling her you don’t go
to London for another woman, and Babs will wheedle the truth out of
you, and we are not in a position to give her the truth.”

“But … I must see her,” the duke objected. “Or
I don’t go.”

Sir Charles gaped at him with a fascinated eye.
“Here is Lord Wildfire, rakehell of hearts, pining to answer to a
woman, a chit of a woman!”

“Not answer to her … keep her for my own,” the
duke corrected.

“Well then, jot off a note … ambiguous as may
be.”

“Will it do?”

“He can’t very well whisk her off to the altar in
the few days we shall be in London. After all, there hasn’t even
been an announcement, let alone, a posting of the banns.”

“Right then …” The duke knew precisely what he
would write.

Twenty

LADY BABS WANDERED about the house and stopped by
the open dining room window. At her back soft candlelight glowed,
and through the window the soft fragrance of summer floated in the
air.

The dining room doors opened, and she turned to
greet her aunt’s guests as they wandered inside and took their
places according to their name cards.

How Sir Edward had wrangled an invitation was more
than she could fathom, since her aunt had remarked that she didn’t
trust the fellow’s eyes.

However, he glanced her way and smiled as he took
his seat, and Babs was thankful that her seat was across the table
from him. She found a deep-seated loathing had taken over her
feelings when she looked his way.

Her day had been awful. She had gone into the park
with Otto and had hoped to see the duke, but he was nowhere in
sight. Sir Edward was, though, and he took it upon himself to join
her and Otto, thus ruining her day.

Now, here he was again.

She simply had to find a way short of murder that
would get rid of him! Murder? Hmmm … no, she couldn’t—could
she?

***

Lady Jane’s watchful eyes rarely missed anything.
She was fairly certain that Sir Edward held some kind of threat
over her niece. No doubt, she thought, Babs had done some foolish
thing, and he had perhaps threatened to go to her father with it if
she did not … if she did not … what? Jane was certain
that he held something over Babs’ dear head; she would not
otherwise have accepted his suit. Even her brother was not pleased.
He remarked to her that something was wrong and that it wasn’t like
Babs to marry for money, and he could see no other reason why she
had accepted Sir Edward.