Captured by a Gentleman (Regency Unlaced 6) (15 page)

Darcy’s six-month mourning period still had several weeks to go, but she was as tired of wearing black and other drab colors as everyone else seemed to be of seeing her in them. She was sure that her mama and papa would understand Darcy wanting to look as beautiful as possible this evening, if there was the remotest chance she was going to see Ranulf again. Seeing her in a pretty gown would be a reminder to him of what he had forgone when he sent her away.

Chapter 12

“You appear to be enjoying yourself this evening.”

Darcy’s heart jolted at merely hearing Ranulf’s voice. A voice she had longed to hear again, if not speaking to her in quite that accusing tone.

She excused herself from the gentleman who had just escorted her from the crowded dance floor in the Wetherby ballroom, keeping the smile on her lips as she turned to face Ranulf.

She drew her breath in sharply at how magnificent he looked in his black evening clothes. The candlelit chandeliers overhead seemed to highlight those touches of red in the darkness of his hair. His eyes were cold, however, and his handsome face all sharp angles, as if he had lost weight since she saw him a week ago.

Darcy did not fool herself into thinking it was because Ranulf had missed her as much as she had missed him. “How pleasant it is to see you again, Mr. Montgomery.” She gave a polite curtsey.

“
Pleasant?
” he repeated through gritted teeth, eyes glittering as dark as emeralds.

“Well, yes.” Pride dictated she answer him with a lightness she was far from feeling. Pride was the emotion she had clung to since the morning Ranulf had delivered her to Stowmont House as if she were an unwanted parcel he was returning. “I trust you are enjoying being back in London?”

“I like it no better now than I did before.” Ranulf glared his frustration with Darcy’s polite aloofness. Not that he was not wholly deserving of her admonition, because he knew he was. That made it no easier to accept after a week of not seeing her at all. “How are you and Stowmont getting along together?” He and the duke had spoken together a few minutes ago.

Darcy’s expression brightened. “Very well. He really is the most agreeable of gentlemen, when you get to know him better.”

Agreeable
was the last word Ranulf would have used to describe the slightly older man. Arrogance incarnate better described that aloof gentleman. Although he could not deny the other man had been helpful enough toward him this past week.

But that did not mean Ranulf found any pleasure in the idea of Darcy and Stowmont getting along so well together. Or wanting to know just how much
better
Darcy now knew Stowmont.

Which is a bit dog in the manger of me, when I was the one to insist Darcy go to stay with Stowmont in the first place.

That did not mean Ranulf had to like it. His reasons had been sound at the time. That he had suffered for them, suffered the absence of Darcy, was little enough price to pay for keeping her safe.

Except he was no nearer ending this enforced separation than he had been a week ago. Sterling was nowhere to be found, and Ranulf was starting to wonder if he had not been mistaken about the identity of Darcy’s caller.

And it was so very good to see Darcy again.

Ranulf had never seen her out of her dark mourning gowns—well, unless she was naked. Which he should certainly not be thinking about now. The cream lace gown she wore this evening complimented her red-gold hair. The low neckline revealed the creamy swell of her breasts. The expression in her dark eyes was serene and untroubled, her skin having a healthy glow in the candlelight.

A part of Ranulf longed to remove the pins from her hair. To put an aroused glow in her eyes and cheeks. To remove her elegant gown and bare her breasts and thighs to the caresses of his lips and hands.

His jaw clenched. “Have you spoken to your uncle this evening?”

Her expression turned to alarm, a hunted look appearing in her eyes, her cheeks paling. “Is he here?”

“He arrived a few minutes ago with the Prince Regent,” Ranulf confirmed grimly. “Sugdon should know better than to come anywhere near you, but I felt you should be made aware of his presence, at least.”

Which was, Darcy realized with a heavy heart, no doubt the only reason Ranulf had sought her out and spoken to her at all. When
her
only reason for being here was so that she could at least see Ranulf again.

“Have you seen my guardian recently?” She looked about the crowded ballroom, hoping to spot that aloof figure somewhere amid the noisy crowd of guests. No such luck.

“A few minutes ago.” Ranulf nodded. “He said he was going out onto the terrace to smoke a cigar. I would have joined him but felt I should speak with you first.”

“I suggest we both join him.” She placed her gloved hand on the arm Ranulf held out to her. “I believe it is time I left. I am sure Stowmont will welcome my decision,” she added dryly. “He does not…enjoy social occasions such as this one.”

Ranulf snorted. “From what I have observed, Stowmont dislikes the necessity of being polite to people more than he does the social occasion itself.”

“Yes.” Darcy smiled distractedly as they stepped outside onto the terrace. Stowmont was nowhere to be seen amongst the couples strolling in the moonlight. “I believe he must have sought refuge farther into the garden.”

“Or he has already left,” Ranulf said enviously.

Her eyes widened. “Do you think so?”

“Not when he knows he is your escort for the evening,” Ranulf assured her. “If we stroll down into the garden, we may find him hiding in one of the rose arbors.”

Darcy doubted the powerful Sebastian Falkner ever felt the need to hide from anyone or anything. But she agreed he might have gone into the garden in search of privacy in order to enjoy smoking one of the strong-smelling cigars she knew he favored.

“The moon is very bright tonight,” Darcy remarked conversationally, the silvery glow easily lighting their way down the winding path toward the rose arbors.

“How have you really been this past week, Darcy?” Ranulf prompted.

“Miserable,” she answered honestly. “You?”

“Miserable,” he echoed. “Darcy—”

“Well, well, if it is not my niece and her—and Montgomery. How obliging of you to step out into the privacy of the garden so that I might take this opportunity to…speak with you both, without fear of interruption.”

Darcy had recognized Cecil Sugdon’s voice immediately he spoke. Turning to face the older man allowed both her and Ranulf to see that the pistol which Sugdon held in his hand was aimed directly at Ranulf’s heart. She wished they had not strolled so far from the house and the other guests as she realized there was no one near to witness this encounter.

The older man’s top lip turned back in a sneer. “Did you really think I would allow you to get away with coming into
my
house and threatening me, you young upstart?” he derided Ranulf. “And as I have long suspected”—his scathing glance now encompassed Darcy too—“a good fucking obviously agrees with you, my dear.”

“No!” Darcy held tightly to Ranulf’s arm as he would have stepped forward to swing his fist at the older man’s face. “Can you not see he is deliberately trying to antagonize you into attacking him so that he has reason to shoot you?”

“Then he has succeeded,” Ranulf bit out between clenched teeth. “How dare you speak to Miss Ambridge in such a crude manner?”

“Because I am afraid this is who he really is behind the mask he wears in public,” she dismissed sadly.

Ranulf’s gaze remained narrowed on the older man. “What do you want, Sugdon?”

The pistol in his hand meant Cecil Sugdon remained completely unperturbed by Ranulf’s show of aggression. “I wanted you to meet a new acquaintance of mine. Sterling?”

Another man stepped out from the shadows behind them. The newcomer was easily identifiable as the man who had visited Darcy at Winterbourne House a week ago. Lord Adam Sterling. Lover and coconspirator of her cousin, Millicent. The pistol in his hand was also pointed at Ranulf.

“We could hardly believe our luck when we learned you were both to be here this evening,” her uncle continued conversationally. “Although I believe Sterling has found it rather tiresome sitting in my carriage waiting for the ideal moment for us to confront the two of you. It seems he has some unfinished business he wishes to discuss with you, Montgomery,” he mocked. “While the two of you are…talking, I will amuse myself by settling my own unfinished business with my niece.” His heated gaze swept possessively over Darcy.

She felt a shudder go through her at what she knew that
unfinished business
to be.

Ranulf turned so that he was sideways to both armed men and at the same time shielding Darcy behind him. “My business with Sterling was finished eight months ago, when he was caught out plotting with my adulterous wife—your daughter,” he reminded Sugdon, “to kill my cousin. What followed was Millicent’s death and Sterling’s banishment to the Continent.”

Sugdon laughed. “I believe he has a few things he wishes to say to you in regard to the unpleasantness of that banishment. And my daughter was ever a disappointment to me.” He sighed. “At least the silly little chit knew to kill herself rather than come sniveling back to me when you were finished with her.”

Ranulf gave a disgusted shake of his head. “It is no wonder Millicent was as she was, with a father like you as an example.”

The older man shrugged. “We all do what we have to do.” His expression hardened. “And what I intend doing right now is to take my pound of flesh out of Darcy’s delectable body.”

“You have already attempted to steal her family fortune. Are you now saying you wish to resume the lascivious intentions toward her person which caused her to run away from your home?”

Darcy stared hard at Ranulf’s back, wondering why he was even asking such a question when they both knew what Cecil Sugdon wanted from her.

“I am sure the Prince Regent cannot know what sort of man you truly are,” Ranulf added disgustedly.

The older man shrugged. “There is much Prinny does not know about me,” he dismissed. “I should thank you, by the by, for disposing of Darcy’s virginity for me. It is such a messy and tiresome business, and one I am only too happy to forgo.” Pale eyes glittered at her in the moonlight. “If you come along with me willingly now and spread your legs for me as eagerly as you have for Montgomery, then perhaps Sterling will consider stopping short of actually killing your lover.”

Sterling smiled confidently. “Perhaps, if she were to provide me with a little cock sucking as further inducement.”

“There, Darcy,” Sugdon taunted. “Is that arrangement acceptable to you?”

It was disgusting.

Reprehensible.

Depraved.

And it might prevent Adam Sterling from shooting Ranulf dead.

“What on earth do you think you are doing?” Ranulf demanded as Darcy stepped out from behind him.

There were tears glistening in her eyes when she looked at him. “I cannot allow him to shoot you, Ranulf.”

His face darkened with anger. “You do not seriously think I will stand aside and allow this disgusting monster to
touch
so much as a single hair upon your head, merely to save my own hide?”

“If I do not go with him, they are going to shoot you—”

“He is going to shoot me anyway—”

“I am sure that Darcy is more than capable of understanding the choices set out before her,” Cecil Sugdon interrupted pleasantly. “If she gives herself willingly to both myself and Sterling, then we may consider letting you live. If she does not, then you will most certainly die.”

“There is the third alternative, of course, of the two of you spending several years, possibly the rest of your lives, in one of His Majesty’s prisons!”

They turned as one toward the sound of that voice. Darcy’s eyes widened in shock as she saw who had just spoken: her guardian, Sebastian Falkner, the Duke of Stowmont.

Standing slightly behind him, an expression of distaste upon his face—and surrounded by half a dozen gentlemen who appeared to be protecting him, while at the same time maintaining privacy by keeping any other guests at bay—stood the Prince Regent.

“Prinny—”

“After what I have heard this evening, Sugdon—what I now
know
,” he added pointedly. “In future, if you have reason to address me at all, then you will call me His Royal Highness.” Contempt virtually dripped from the Prince Regent’s voice as he looked down his nose at the man he had once counted amongst his close friends. Once, because he obviously no longer felt that way. “It is highly unlikely you will ever have need to do so, however, when I intend to ensure you occupy a prison cell for the rest of your miserable life.” He glanced toward Darcy, Ranulf, and Stowmont. “I take it you are all willing to press charges of theft, attempted rape and murder against these two men?”

“It will be a pleasure, Prinny,” Stowmont assured in a hard voice as Darcy and Ranulf nodded.

“See that the sentence is taken care of posthaste and with as little public knowledge as possible,” the Prince Regent instructed several of the gentlemen who had accompanied him, the matter obviously settled as far as he was concerned. “I will wish you a good evening, Miss Ambridge.” He nodded politely before turning and walking back along the garden path toward the Wetherbys’ terrace, accompanied by two of his friends.

“Prinny— Your Royal Highness—” Sugdon called after him plaintively. “Please… You misunderstood.”

“None of us
misunderstood
it was your intention to rape Darcy and shoot me.” Ranulf, taking advantage of Sugdon’s distress at the Prince Regent’s departure, easily disarmed the other man before turning the pistol on him. “Well done.” He nodded at Stowmont, the duke having done the same to Sterling. Both those men now faced the barrel of the pistol pointed at themselves rather than someone else.

The duke gave a brief grin, one which made him appear years younger. “I have not enjoyed myself so much in years.” His humor faded as he glanced at the men the Prince Regent had left behind. “If you gentlemen would care to take over now? I do believe my ward is about to faint.”