An Unexpected Gentleman Part 9

Adelaide considered Connoras request and the manner in which it had been given. There was a new kind of hesitancy in his voice, something shead not heard from him before. If shead not known better, she might have called it uncertainty. She knew better. Men like Connor were never uncertain of themselves. They were confident to a fault.

She was tempted to repeat her insistence about the fifteen thousand pounds, but in the interest of beginning their new life on a more affirming note, she decided to try for a bit of honesty.

aI chose you because you told me . . .a She trailed off and reconsidered her words. Almost, shead said shead chosen him because head told the truth. Which was perfectly absurd. aYou told more truths than Sir Robert. You said youad taken notice of me before you knew of the baronas courtship.a She nodded once. aThat was the truth.a It wasnat the only reason, or even her first reason, but it was the one that carried the most weight with her now. After her temper of yesterday had pa.s.sed, shead looked beyond the tangle of lies and latched onto that one truth.

Connor had wanted her, just for her. Only until head found other reasons to want her, of course, and it hardly excused him from having played merry h.e.l.l with her reputation. But still . . . Head wanted her, and that was something.

aYou believed me.a Connor didnat sound stunned, exactly, but there was an unmistakable note of surprise.

Good heavens, he had been unsure. Amus.e.m.e.nt tugged at her lips. aYes.a aAnd do you believe he stole my inheritance and sold me to a press-gang when I was a boy?a he asked, a hint of eagerness in his tone.

She remembered the fury and violence in Sir Robertas eyes. aIt is possible.a aAnd tossed me in prison and made another grasp at my fortune when I returned?a aYes, of course.a Shead believed that from the start.

Now he was just looking smug. aAnd that I have, in fact, saved you.a Insomuch as a gentleman could save a lady from a burning building after he had set it on fire. She opened her mouth to inform him of Sir Robertas own plan for revenge but thought better of it at the last moment. Connor may have noticed her first, but it didnat follow that his first thoughts had been of marriage. Would his offer stand if he learned Sir Robert had never really cared for her? That there was no revenge to be had in marrying her? She wanted to think it would. She wanted to believe he would keep his promise. But she couldnat be sure.

aYou provided a viable alternative,a she replied.

His mouth turned down at the corners. aAn equivocation, but Iall accept it.a aGenerous of you.a He didnat smile as shead hoped. His gaze was steady and intense, his voice soft and even. aYouall be Mrs. Brice. You will not regret it.a For the life of her, she couldnat tell if he was making a promise or delivering an order. She nodded, thinking it was an appropriate response either way.

aYouall not see him again,a Connor said.

She nodded with more enthusiasm, not caring if it was an order or a promise, so long as it was true.

Connor caught her chin gently and brushed a whisper-soft kiss against her lips. aUntil tomorrow,a he murmured. Then he dropped his hand, spun on his heel, and strode toward the door.

aBut . . .a They had more to discussa"more details and negotiations to work through. There was still that awful matter of how many times a day. aWhere are you going?a He threw a sharp smile over his shoulder. aTo not kill Sir Robert.a There were quite a few things a person could do to a man without killing him. Arms and legs could be broken, or even removed. A body could live without all its limbs. A body could live without a number of thingsa"the eyes, nose, ears, and tongue.

Connor hadnat included mutilation in his original inventory of ways Sir Robert would pay. But he was a flexible man, and head always meant for the list to be open-ended.

He took dark pleasure in adding to that list now, carefully selecting each gruesome punishment. It gave him something to do while he waited in the dark alley between Banfriesas tavern and the mews. He needed something to distract himself from the image of Sir Robert lifting his hand to Adelaide, and visions of divesting Sir Robert of the offending appendage almost did the trick. Almost.

The fury head kept carefully concealed for Adelaideas sake had boiled over the moment head walked out her front door.

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d had used his fist. His fist.

So, it would be the hands first. Head break each finger individually. The tongue next. A fitting price for the lies that had spilled from Sir Robertas mouth. Then . . .

He turned his head at the sound of the tavern door swinging open and laughter pouring outside. When Sir Robert and his man stepped into the alley, the list was forgotten. Connor forgot everything but his fury. The urge to attack clawed at him, but he waited, letting the rage build higher, until the men were in the dark of the alley. Then he stepped from the shadows and reached his quarry in three purposeful strides.

He gave Sir Robert time to defend himselfa"he gave Sir Robert time to try, anywaya"but the man just stood there, immobile but for the widening of his eyes.

Those eyes snapped shut when Connoras fist connected with flesh. Connor found satisfaction in the throb of his hand. He found greater satisfaction in hearing Sir Robert grunt with pain and watching him fall back against the wall.

Sir Robertas fingers scrambled for purchase on the bricks. He succeeded in keeping himself more or less upright and stumbled over a pile of refuse, into the center of the alley. He spun around, his face a mask of fear, rage, and blood from a missing tooth.

aHelp me, you fool!a He shouted at his man.

Connor stayed the man with a quick shake of his head and a simple flick of the hand.

At the sight of his companion backing away, palms out, Sir Robert pulled a small knife from his coat, let out a shout of fury, and charged at Connor. He swung his arm in a wide arc. It was almost too easy for Connor to dodge the attack, knock the knife away, and land another blow. It was just as easy to step out of the way of Sir Robertas swinging fist, then step back in again to catch his adversary in the gut.

When Sir Robert let out a sharp wheeze and doubled over, Connor grabbed him around the throat and shoved him straight again. There was no pleasure to be had in punching the back of a manas head. But there was quite a bit to be found in the sound of Sir Robertas nose breaking on the next punch.

Sir Robert crumpled to the ground, a b.l.o.o.d.y, groaning heap.

Connor battled the urge to follow him and pummel with his fists until the groaning stopped . . . Or the vision of Adelaideas bruise faded from memory. Whichever came last.

Instead, he kicked the knife and sent it skittering over the cobblestones to bounce off Sir Robertas knee.

aCare to try again?a he taunted. He hoped Sir Robert would take the bait. Nothing would give him more pleasure than an excuse to break his promise.

Sir Robertas groaning faded. His fingers curled around the knife, and he struggled to his knees.

aYouall hang for this,a he rasped.

aThey donat hang commoners for brawling with your type, only killing them. And Iave not laid a hand on you.a Connor made a show of brushing a bit of dust off his coat. aIn fact, I spent the night at home, nursing a brandy.a aI have a witness,a Sir Robert barked, his voice gaining strength.

aDo you?a Connor dug a sovereign out of his pocket and tossed it at Sir Robertas man. aWhat did you see here?a Graham Sefton s.n.a.t.c.hed the coin out of the air. He studied it, a line of concentration across his brow. aItas not right, a man telling what he knows for a bit of coin. Ought be speaking the truth for its own sake.a He tossed the coin back to Connor. aAnd it werenat fair, I tell you, the way those footpads laid into my master. Two of them, there were, and the elder was a brute of a lad. At least ten years of age.a aYou . . . The two of you . . .a Sir Robert glared at Graham, his skin turning nearly as red as the blood on his mouth and chin. aYou traitorous filth! I should have known better than to hire your kind!a aAye,a Graham agreed with a pleasant nod. aYou should have. I might have run off with your silver. Or slit your throat in your sleep . . .a He c.o.c.ked his head. aThought about doing both, truth be told.a aI get his throat,a Connor said mildly. aIt was my fiance he laid hands on.a aMiss Ward?a Sir Robert threw his head back and let loose a short, raspy laugh. aThatas what this is about? Miss Ward? Oh, Christ, this is priceless. You think youave won. You think youave landed me a terrible blow, but youave accomplished nothing but to tie a noose round your own neck.a He wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand and managed to gain his feet. aI never wanted the b.i.t.c.h. Iad not have given her a second glance if it hadnat been for you. Poor Mr. Brice,a he crooned in a singsong voice. aUnjustly accused. Locked away without cause. Fated to spend every Sat.u.r.day watching, pining for just a glimpse at his fair maiden. My G.o.d. So tragic. So romantic .a His rapidly swelling lips curved into a gruesome smile. aSuch a pleasure to steal her out from under your nose.a Connor was careful not to react. He wanted to believe Sir Robert spoke out of shredded pride and spite, but he couldnat.

b.l.o.o.d.y, b.u.g.g.e.ring h.e.l.l. He was responsible for bringing Adelaide to Sir Robertas attention.

aEven more pleasure to be had in watching you fail,a Connor returned with false calm.

aIall have her yet!a Sir Robertas voice rose in pitch and volume. The humor in his eyes vanished. aIall have her when sheas tired of you. When sheas itching to have a man and not a b.a.s.t.a.r.d boy. And then youall know. Youall know what itas like!a aWhat what is like?a aTo be pa.s.sed over!a He was near to screeching now, his voice strained and scratchy. aTo come second! To have your life ruineda"a He took a breath, then another, visibly calming. He pointed the blade at Connor. aa"because of a wh.o.r.e.a Connor could all but feel the hate coming off of Sir Robert in waves. It coated his skin and slithered into his pores. He took a menacing step forward and bared his teeth. aCome within a mile of Miss Ward again, and Iall cut your heart out with that knife.a aYou can have her,a Sir Robert spat. aFor now.a And with that, he spun on his heel and loped off unsteadily toward the mews.

Connor watched him go as Graham strolled over and let out a long, low whistle. aMad as a hatter, that one.a aNo.a Connor rubbed the back of his hand across his jaw. aJust mad enough to be dangerous.a aHeall clean his house of staff now.a Connor nodded. aDo you know which are to be trusted?a aDonat know but one or two in the lot who wouldnat be happy to find other employment.a aThey have it. At Ashbury Hall.a aWill you still be getting married?a He spoke without hesitation. aYes.a aYouare a good man.a He wasnat, particularly. He was selfish, and greedy, and territorial. It was a pity Sir Robert hadnat fancied himself in love with Adelaide, and it infuriated Connor to know head been the reason Sir Robert had sought Adelaide out. But neither of those things altered the pertinent facts. Head wanted Adelaide, and now she was his. She would always be his. That was what mattered.

Graham sniffed and c.o.c.ked his head. aConnor?a aHmm.a aCan I have the sovereign back?a

Chapter 16.

Connor called on Adelaide the next morning. He didnat mention where head gone the night before, and Adelaide didnat ask. As far as she was concerned, what was done was done. She was more than ready to put the distasteful events of the past week behind her.

Thatas not to say she forgave Sir Robert for his actions, nor intended to forget the humiliation she had suffered because of Connor. She simply saw no benefit in dwelling on her anger, not when there was so much else to occupy her time and thoughts.

Wedding plans, for example, took up an inordinate amount of time and energy. A circ.u.mstance she attributed to Connor possessing an inordinate amount of stubbornness.

He wanted the efficiency of an elopement. She wanted to wait for the banns to be read. He suggested they compromise with the purchase of a special license. She called it an inexcusable waste of money and refused to admit the truth of why she wished to wait. No bride, no matter how steeped in pragmatism, wanted the memory of her wedding day to be marred by a bruise the size of Inverness-shire.

To distract him from that argument, she started another. She wanted a small ceremony. He insisted it would be a grand affair.

She thought to wear a simple muslin dress. He offered to pay for a gown made of the finest silk.

She reminded him a lady did not accept articles of clothing from a gentleman. Not even her fianc.

He offered her the fifteen thousand pounds in advance so she could purchase the items herself.

aShe accepts.a This immediate response came from Isobel, who had been entertaining George with a tugging match over an old ap.r.o.n and watching Connor and Adelaide argue across the dining room table for the last half houra"an exercise she gave every appearance of enjoying.

aDo I, indeed?a Adelaide inquired. She might have, actually, if shead been given the opportunity.

aYes.a Isobel turned to her with twin flames of mischief and excitement in her eyes. aI am fully willing to bear the consequences of this decision.a aSelfless creature,a Connor murmured with appreciation.

aBeetles!a George dropped the ap.r.o.n and ran to Connor. aBeetles! Beetles!a aNot that sort of creature, lad. Look, look what Iave brought for you.a He pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket, set it on the table, and unwrapped it to display its contents for George.

aBiscuits!a George s.n.a.t.c.hed one from Connoras hand and held it up for Adelaide to inspect. aBiscuit.a aIt certainly is. Gingerbread, by the looks of it.a And there appeared to be three more just like it in the handkerchief. She smiled at Connor as George tottered off to play with a step stool against the wall. aIt was very kind of you to think of him.a aNot at all. I wasnat certain if he cared for gingerbread, but I thoughta"a He broke off when George shoved the step stool into Connoras leg and, biscuit caught between his teeth, scrambled his way onto Connoras lap.

George turned about, nestled his back against Connoras chest, and went about the messy business of eating his treat.

Connor went very still and stared at the top of Georgeas head. aEr . . . Is this safe?a A choking sound came from Isobel. Adelaide forced a bland expression.

aYes. Small children have been known to sit on a lap or two and emerge from the experience unscathed.a aRight . . . Right, of course.a He neither sounded nor appeared particularly convinced. He lifted his hands to Georgeas shoulders, as if afraid the boy might tumble off without warning, then seemed to change his mind. He gripped the table edge instead, neatly boxing George in between his arms. aRight.a Adelaide smothered a laugh, fearful she would break the sweet spell of the moment. This softer, less confident side of Connor was still new to her. Shead caught a glimpse of it when head asked for the true reason shead chosen him, but seeing him with George . . . This was another level of endearing.

It wasnat every man who would allowa"however reluctantlya"a child to climb onto his lap. Most gentlemen of her acquaintance would balk at such a familiarity. Few would have been so charmed, or so transparently ill at ease.

She wondered if there might be something redeeming in Connor Brice. Something more valuable than a promise of fifteen thousand pounds a year.

Isobel, though clearly amused, was evidently not contemplating the possibility of Connor possessing more than one virtue. aWe were discussing funds made available in advance of the wedding?a aRight. Youall need a bit to keep you over until the paperwork is complete.a Connor hesitated, then let go of the table briefly to once again reach into his pocket, this time pulling out what looked to Adelaide to be a veritable mountain of banknotes. He stretched over George and placed them on the table. aTwo hundred pounds should be sufficient, I think.a Adelaide couldnat believe what she was seeing. Two hundred pounds, sitting pretty as you please on her own dining room table. It was exactly one hundred seventy-three pounds more than what was left of her savings.

aGood heavens.a aTwo hundred pounds?a Isobel s.n.a.t.c.hed a note off the table and turned it over, her face a picture of wonderment. aDo you always walk about with this many pound notes on your person?a Connor lifted a shoulder. aMore or less.a aOh, I shall like having you for a brother-in-law.a Connor laughed and winked at her, a small and wicked gesture that was certain to elevate Isobelas estimation of him. Isobel had a keen and worrisome fondness for rakish behavior.

aNow, if weave settled everything,a Connor said, looking to Adelaide, aI thought we might indulge in a picnic.a Adelaide scarcely heard him, so occupied was she with staring at the banknotes on the table. Oh, the things she was going to do with that money. Clothes, decent food, a tidy sum set away in the likelya"and in her experience, it was always likelya"event of a calamity.

aAdelaide?a aHmm?a She glanced up to find Connor and Isobel staring at her expectantly. aA picnic. Yes.a She dragged her attention away from the money, took mental inventory of the pantry and larder, and concluded that, unless Connor was partial to stale bread and cold porridge, a picnic was out of the question.

aI donat know that it would be possible today. Perhaps day after tomorrow?a When shead had a chance to spend a bit of that that two hundred pounds.

aItas doubtful what Iave packed in the carriage will keep until the day after tomorrow.a aYou brought the picnic along?a She smiled, pleased with the small act of thoughtfulness. aIn that case, I should be delighted to attend.a aIall watch Georgie,a Isobel offered, rising from the table.

At the sound of his name, George glanced at Isobel, grinned, and reached for another biscuit.

Connor eyed the top of his head speculatively. aLad, do you think you might hop down, now?a George bit into his treat, giving no indication head even heard, let alone meant to honor, Connoras request.

Connor reached for Georgeas shoulders as he had earlier and, once again, pulled his hands away at the last second. He looked to her. aCould youa"?a aFetch my bonnet and gloves?a she cut in, deliberately misunderstanding. aYes, of course.a She jumped up from the table before he could protest and went into the foyer, where she made a show of picking her bonnet off the side table and fidgeting with the ribbons. Then she ever so subtly shifted to the left for a better view of the dining room.

Isobel didnat bother with subterfuge. When Connor looked to her, she merely smiled and shook her head. aPick him up and set him down, Mr. Brice. Heall not bite . . . Not anymore.a aRight.a Connor stared at George for a moment longer, clearly trying to decide how best to go about dislodging the child from his lap without having to actually pick said child up. At long last, he took the handkerchief holding the last biscuit off the table and held it out to the side, well out of Georgeas reach.

aHere you are, lad.a Connor shook the handkerchief. aWouldnat you like another? Come here, then. Come and get them.a A snicker emerged from Isobel. Adelaide rolled her eyes and abandoned all pretense of disinterest. aGeorge is not a puppy, Connor. Heall nota"a George turned onto his belly, slid off Connor, and tottered over to grab the biscuit.

aOh, for pityas sake.a Fighting a laugh, Adelaide set the bonnet on her head. aThat is not how one reasons with a child.a aGeorge thought it quite reasonable,a Isobel pointed out. aWe should give it a go when he makes a fuss over wearing his Sunday clothes.a aNo.a She turned to George, who ignored her in favor of the last biscuit. aDo you see what youave begun? Where is your pride, young man?a Connor stood, looking enormously pleased with himself. aThereas no loss of pride in refusing to do something for nothing. The boy shows good sense.a It was an offhanded complimenta"and likely intended in defense of his own behavior more than Georgeasa"but, all the same, Adelaide liked him the better for having said it.

She smiled and gestured at the door. aShall we, then?a Upon stepping out her front door, Adelaide noticed three things in quick succession. First, that the weather was unseasonably cool, quite perfect for a summer picnic. Second, that the carriage and four sitting in her drive looked as new as most everything else Connor owned, and finallya"and most notablya"that there were two men sitting atop the vehicle . . . one of whom she recognized.

aGood heavens.a She grabbed hold of Connoras arm and pulled on it until he bent down to give her his ear.

aWhata"?a aThat man,a she whispered in a rush. aOn your carriage next to your driver. He came to my door. He came to my door and then left without saying a word. The day Sir Robert was here. He knocked, looked in, anda"a aAh. Yes, I know.a She pulled back to gape at him. aHow could you possiblya"?a Green eyes sparkled mischievously in the sunlight. aI told you I had men watching.a aYes, but . . . You meant that literally?a She dropped his arm and glanced over her shoulder to where she and Isobel had watched the man disappear into the woods. aHe was literally watching us?a aSettle your feathers, wren.a He laughed and ushered her toward the carriage. aGraham was watching the house and grounds, not peeking into windows.a He glanced sideways at her bruised cheek, and a hardness flashed over his features. aI should have let him peek in thea"a aNo,a she cut in with a severe look. aYou most certainly should not have.a She settled into the forward-facing seat and took a moment to appreciate the vehicleas interior of plush leather and richly grained wood. It wasnat proper for her to be riding in a closed carriage, but she couldnat bring herself to care. In a few weeks, they would be married, and it was unlikely anyone would be about to see her, at any rate.

Connor took the bench across from her and gave the roof a quick rap with his knuckles. The carriage started with a soft jolt.

aAre you angry?a Connor asked. He didnat look worried by the idea, merely curious.

aNo, Iam not angry.a She thought about that. aExactly. I am little perturbed. Was it necessary to leave a man, that man, creeping about my woods?a aYes.a She looked out the window, a disturbing thought occurring to her. aAre there still men creeping about my woods?a aNo one at present.a That was not a full answer. aDo you trust him? This Grahama"?a aSefton. I trust he wants the considerable amount of coin I pay.a She slumped in her seat. aYouare not going to give a direct answer to any of my questions, are you?a Connor reached over and tipped her chin up with his finger. aI mean to keep you safe. If that requires hiring a man or two to keep an eye on you when I canat, so be it. Are you going to fight me on this?a Strictly speaking, that wasnat a direct answer to her question either, but it was hard to take offense at the sentiment.

aI donat wish to fight with you,a she replied, choosing her words carefully. aBut I would very much appreciate it if you would inform me in advance of such matters.a He frowned thoughtfully and let his hand fall. aI can do that.a aI might have slept better these past few nights knowing there was a guard about.a aAnd I should have thought of that,a he said softly.

Willing to accept that as a kind of apology, Adelaide shrugged. aNo harm done, really.a He studied her face. aYou havenat been sleeping well, have you?a aNot really.a Not since before the house party. That seemed ages ago. aKind of you to mention how noticeable itas become.a His lips twitched, but his voice was gentle. aWeave a drive yet. Close your eyes and rest a bit.a Surely, he was jesting. aI canat sleep with you sitting across from me, watching.a No one could sleep like that.

He left his seat and settled beside her. aHowas this?a A thousand times worse. Their legs and arms were brushing, and she could feel the heat of his skin permeating the layers of clothes between them. The scent of him tickled her nose, and she knew that if she turned her head so much as a fraction to the side, she would be all but kissing him. It wasnat an altogether unappealing notion, but liking the idea and instigating the act were two different animals.

She stared straight ahead and tried to think of something else.

aDo you knowa"a She stopped to clear her throat. aIam not all that tired, really.a aI see.a And from the sound of it, he most certainly did. aTry to rest anyway. Just for a little while.a Feeling foolish, she scooted away from him, leaned against the side of the carriage, and closed her eyes. It would never work, she thought. Shead never be able to fall asleep with Connor sitting right there.

Chapter 17.

Adelaide woke curled up against Connor like a sleeping kitten. His arm was around her, anchoring her to his side. Her feet were wedged up in the seat next to her, her head nestled against his shoulder, and her hands . . . Good Lord, her hands were in his lap.

She s.n.a.t.c.hed them away and righted herself so fast it made her head spin.

aI . . . I didnat . . . How did I . . . ?a She swallowed the question as sleep retreated and her mind cleared. aNever mind.a If shead cuddled up to him in her sleep, she didnat want to know.

aMy apologies,a she mumbled. He would tease her now. Lord knew, head yet to pa.s.s up an opportunity to poke at her dignity.

But he surprised her by gently capturing a lock of her hair that had been pulled from its pins during sleep. aDonat apologize for this. You were tired.a He rubbed the strand of hair between his fingers a moment, a crease forming between his eyes. Finally, he tucked the strand behind her ear and let his hand fall away. aThat was my doing.a She opened her mouth, intending to argue, but then she realized he was quite right. It was, at least in part, very much his fault.

Too groggy to give the matter any more attention, she glanced out the window and asked, aHow long was I asleep?a It felt as if it could have been days. Surely it had been at least half an hour. Why hadnat they arrived? Growing concerned, she turned from the window. aWhere are we going?a aOn a picnic,a Connor reminded her. Then he grinned and added, ain England.a Which was highly effective in banishing the remnants of sleep.

aEngland? Youare not serious.a She stared at his grin a moment longer. aYou are serious.a aI am indeed. Wearea"a aStop!a She half stood and stretched up to pound on the roof. aStop the carriage!a Laughing, he took hold of her fist and brought it down. aWhat are you doing?a aIam stopping the carriage.a Shead rather thought that was obvious. aI canat go to England.a Shead rather thought that was obvious as well. What wasnat obvious was why he continued to laugh.

He tugged on her hand, toppling her off balance and onto his lap. aYou look a picture, half awake and rumpleda"a aLet go.a She struggled against him. How far had they come? How long had she been asleep? aTurn the carriage around. I have to go back. Isobel will be in a panic.a aIsobel knows where we are. I spoke with her when you went into the kitchen to fetch the ap.r.o.n for George.a aYou did? She knew?a aYes, and I am to tell you . . . Quit squirming, love . . . Thank you. I am to tell you that you are not to argue, not to worry, and not to forget to bring her back a memento.a Her eyes narrowed. aYou just made that up.a aOnly part. She does want the memento.a That did sound like Isobel. aI cannot take a trip to England. I have duties, responsibilitiesa"a aWeare not going to London. Weall be back by nightfall.a aOh. Just for the day?a She sighed an enormous breath of relief. aWhy didnat you say so?a aHow long do your picnics generally last?a Embarra.s.sed that shead failed to put two and two together, she pressed her lips shut and refrained from comment.

aBesides,a Connor said, his voice turning low and wicked, aI like seeing you fl.u.s.tered.a aI . . .a She trailed off as she became increasingly aware of her position on his lap and of the strong arms that held her close and the hard thighs beneath her legs. His mouth was mere inches from hers, and his green eyes swirled with the unmistakable lights of laughter and desire.

He held her with such care, just as he had on that first night in the gardena"as if she was special, as if she was something he treasured.