An Unexpected Gentleman (10 page)

L
illy and Winnefred left Adelaide at her door so that she might privately inform her sister what had occurred in the garden and study. Adelaide could only assume that the ladies expected Isobel’s reaction to be most unpleasant. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

Isobel’s eyes grew round as saucers. Which, evidently, was not round enough to contain all her unholy glee. It spilled out into a voice bubbling over with mirth.

“It is not amusing.”

“It certainly is,” Isobel countered and burst into fits of laughter. “I cannot believe it,” she choked out. “My sister . . . My own eternally decorous sister . . . The subject of a duel.” She let out a shaky breath and wiped tears from her eyes. “Oh, stop looking at me like that. Lord Engsly will put an end to it.”

“He has already put an end to it,” Adelaide muttered.

“There you are,” she said, with a sweep of her hand. “You’re not truly distressed by this, are you? It’s not an ideal development, I grant. But if there is nothing you can do to change the situation, you might as well appreciate it. And you must admit . . . two men willing to die for you.” She gave a lusty sigh. “That is flattering.”

Perhaps it would have been, if Sir Robert hadn’t been quite so eager to rethink the sacrifice. And if the rest of the morning hadn’t been so mortifying.

“Well, who is this Mr. Brice?” Isobel demanded. “Why have you not told me of him before now?”

“I only just met the man.” Too late, she realized the folly of that statement.

“Only just . . . And you were kissing him in the garden?”

Adelaide waited patiently for the next round of Isobel’s laughter to subside. She wasn’t feeling especially patient at the moment, but she was feeling grateful. Not every young lady would accept such dreadful news about her older sister with good humor.

“If you are finished?” she asked after a time.

Isobel lifted a finger and laughed a minute more. Finally, she gave a great sigh and nodded. “Oh, goodness . . . Has this Mr. Brice offered for you, then?”

“Yes, they both have.”

“Two proposals, a compromise, and a duel. My, but you’ve been busy this morning.” Isobel wiped her eyes again, then pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I think you should accept Mr. Brice.”

“You don’t know the man.”

“Neither do you, by the sound of it,” Isobel reminded with a smirk. “But we know Sir Robert, and—”

“Lady Engsly says I should take some time to think the matter through.” Adelaide wasn’t interested in hearing, yet again, her sister’s opinion of Sir Robert.

“I like Lady Engsly,” Isobel said, bobbing her head in agreement. “She’s a sensible sort.”

As Isobel’s idea of sensible was to check for witnesses before engaging in all manner of inadvisable behavior, Adelaide could only stare at her sister in disbelief.

“I can appreciate a sensible mind,” Isobel said in a defensive tone. “I like you, don’t I? It’s stodginess I can’t abide.”

Adelaide was saved from having to respond by a soft knock on the door. Lilly and Winnefred, she guessed. They had promised to return after they’d spoken to the guests.

“Are we interrupting?” Lilly asked when Adelaide opened the door.

She stepped back and waved them inside. “No, please come in.”

Winnefred patted her arm as she passed, just as Lilly had earlier, only a bit more awkwardly and with more force than was strictly comfortable. Adelaide assumed Winnefred was either unaccustomed to delivering friendly overtures of a physical nature or unaware of her own strength.

Lilly paused inside the doorway. “We want you to know that our carriages are at your disposal.”

Adelaide’s heart sank. “Mrs. Cress has kicked me out.”

“Good heavens no.” Lilly led her to the foot of the bed where she settled them both. “Mrs. Cress is more apt to lock you in your chambers for the next fortnight than send you off. You are now her most interesting guest. She likes to gossip.”

“She loves to gossip,” Winnefred corrected. “She’s not cruel, mind you. Merely dedicated.”

Lilly gave Adelaide a sympathetic smile. “Others will not be so kind. To be frank, Adelaide, the proposals have kept you from outright ruin, but I fear things will become uncomfortable for you nonetheless.”

Adelaide closed her eyes on a sigh. Lilly was right. Talk amongst the guests was sure to be open, rampant, and ugly. Worse, the questions and criticisms would spill over onto Isobel.

Adelaide wasn’t sure what was more galling, that they were now the center of such speculation, or that they had no choice but to flee from the insults.

“I should marry Sir Robert and be done with it.”

Lilly shared a look with Winnefred. “I must be honest with you, Miss Ward. I do not particularly care for Sir Robert.”

“
We
do not care for Sir Robert,” Winnefred amended.

“He strikes me as being rather duplicitous in nature,” Lilly explained.

“You see?” Isobel chimed. “Sensible.”

“Why have you not said so until now?” Adelaide asked. Granted, she’d met the ladies only a few months ago, but they’d grown sufficiently familiar with each other that distrust of her suitor might have been mentioned.

“I assumed you had similar reservations,” Lilly explained. “But that circumstances were such that you’d no choice but to press ahead. Was I wrong?”

“No,” she admitted softly. There had been reservations. She’d been late in acknowledging them, but they had been there.

Winnefred nodded. “Now, however, you have an alternative solution. You have Connor.”

“I don’t know that I like Mr. Brice any better.”

“You looked to have liked him well enough in the garden,” Winnefred commented.

“Freddie,”
Lady Engsly chastised.

Adelaide gave a dismissive shake of her head. “It’s only the truth. I did like him. Until he went out of his way to see we were discovered.”

“Surely not,” Lilly protested.

“Ask him yourself, if you like.”

Lilly studied her a moment before speaking. “I can see that won’t be necessary. Good heavens, did he say why?”

“Well, that’s obvious,” Isobel said. “He must be in love with her.”

“We met last night.”

“Last night?” This from both ladies.

“Passing in the hall,” she explained lamely, and she tensed, waiting for Isobel to mention the sitting room, or the garden, or the whiskey.

Winnefred spoke first. “He’s been aware of you for a lot longer than that. He used to look for you to bring your nephew to the prison.”

“Prison,” Adelaide repeated. It was a cell window Connor had been watching her through. She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“What was he imprisoned for?” Isobel asked.

“Highway robbery,” Winnefred informed her.

Adelaide dropped her hands. “Good God.”

“There was never any doubt of his innocence,” Lilly assured her. “Connor might look fit for the job, but his men, I assure you, do not.”

“He has men?”

Winnefred nodded. “Gregory, who I vow is one hundred, if he’s a day. And Michael, who likely hasn’t seated a horse in the last decade.”

“Who brought the charges against them?” Isobel inquired.

“Sir Robert,” Winnefred answered with obvious disgust. “Who happens to be old friends with the magistrate.”

“How do you know all of this?” Adelaide asked.

Lilly looked uncomfortable with the question. “Well . . . Freddie and I had . . . on occasion . . . in the past . . . reason to visit the prison. We . . . That is . . .”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, Lilly,” Winnefred cut in impatiently. “She’ll not judge. Lilly and I did a bit of sewing for coin. Connor was one of the prisoners who could afford to pay for mending. I’d not have paid particular attention to him, except that he shared the cell with Michael and Gregory—the most delightful gentlemen—and Thomas was in the next cell over. Connor took him under his wing.”

“Thomas Brown? Your ward?” Adelaide shook her head. The boy was much too young to have been locked away with grown men.

Winnefred nodded. “He came to be with us after his release. But Connor and his men looked after him in prison. My husband took it upon himself to look into their affairs.”

“And he discovered Sir Robert was their accuser,” Isobel guessed.

“Yes, and that Connor’s assets had been seized by the courts. I asked my husband to intercede on Connor’s behalf as repayment for the kindness he showed Thomas. It would appear Gideon had some success.” She turned to Lilly. “Do you suppose the men are finished in the study? We should see what they’ve learned.”

Lilly nodded but kept her gaze on Adelaide. “You will take the time to think? You’ll not be rash, or choose out of anger?”

In a show of support, Isobel came to stand beside her. “My sister is nothing if not sensible . . . generally. She’ll make the right decision.”

Adelaide reached up to squeeze the hand Isobel placed on her shoulder.

“Then I’ll not worry.” Lilly bent to kiss Adelaide’s cheek, then gestured to Winnefred. The pair left the room arm in arm.

Isobel blew out a long breath after their departure. “This is all very complicated.”

Complicated, Adelaide decided, was too mild a word. It was an impossibly convoluted disaster, a hopeless tangle of questions and lies she had no choice but to try to unwind.

Slipping off her shoes, she rose from the bed and began to pace. Where did she begin? Compromises and duels, highway robbery, false imprisonment, and stolen fortunes. It was too much.

Her thoughts jumped about her head as wildly as the butterflies danced in her stomach. She felt off balance, just as she had after the whiskey, but there was nothing liberating in the experience. There was only dread, anger, and an abundance of confusion.

Why had Connor done it? Surely it wasn’t merely to spite his brother. There were an infinite number of ways one could irritate a sibling. The vast majority of them did not require the ruin of an innocent bystander. Surely he wasn’t so coldhearted, so cruel. There had to be a better explanation.

And if there wasn’t, then there had to be retribution.

Determined, she crossed the room, threw open the wardrobe, and snatched her hooded cloak.

Isobel leapt up from her seat at the vanity. “Where are you going?”

“To speak with Mr. Brice.”

“What? But you—”

“I want an explanation. I cannot decide what’s to be done without an explanation.”

“But you can’t,” Isobel insisted. “Even I know you cannot seek out a gentleman unattended.”

“Really?” Adelaide clasped the cloak at her neck and gave her sister a bland look. “Why?”

“Because it . . . You would . . .” Isobel managed an expression that was both a grimace and sympathetic smile. “I suppose you can do most anything you want now.”

And you as well,
she thought. The ton was all too eager to spread the shame of one fallen woman onto every member of her family. “He’ll answer for that.”

I
t took no time at all to discover where Connor was staying. The staff were all abuzz over the unfolding scandal. According to the maid Adelaide questioned, Jeffrey the footman had overhead Lord Gideon mention the widow Dunbar’s cottage to his wife. The footman mentioned it to the housekeeper, and within twenty minutes, everyone knew.

Adelaide imagined it had taken half that time to spread the news of her ruin.

Rather than risk running into guests along the road, Adelaide slipped out the back of the house and followed a drover’s trail into town.

The trip was scarcely more than a mile, an easy distance for one accustomed to walking. But in her haste, she’d forgotten to change into her half boots, and the thin soles of the slippers she wore now offered little protection from the rocky ground. The bottoms of her feet were stinging before she was halfway to town.

The discomfort only added to her roiling temper. By the time she reached her destination—the two-storied cottage with green shutters and a tidy garden on the edge of town—she felt positively murderous.

She strode to the door, gave it three solid knocks, and waited for the housekeeper or maid to answer.

It was Connor who answered her summons, wearing trousers, shirtsleeves, and an expression of mild surprise.

He flicked a glance over her shoulder. “Adelaide. Did you come here alone?”

“Yes.” She tipped her chin up and kept her eyes studiously away from the open neck of his shirt. “Are you going to allow me entrance, or shall we hold court on the street?”

He frowned slightly but stepped back to allow her inside. She swept past him into a small foyer that opened into a modest parlor dominated by an oversized settee and pair of upholstered chairs.