Lord Devere's Ward (16 page)

“Ahem!” Sir Willoughby Hawkes coughed.

“Yes, quite.” Louisa turned to regard her admirer.

As the days had passed, she had become more comfortable with the formerly somber baronet. He visited Bruton Street daily, turned the pages of her music as she played, drove with her in the park. Her parents seemed well content to permit the relationship to take its natural course. “You went to a great deal of trouble to have us admitted to some of the more private precincts of Hampton Court. Sir, we thank you most sincerely.”

Hawkes bowed as the rest of the party

courteously echoed her sentiments. But his mind must have been elsewhere. “Perhaps, Miss Pauline, you would feel better sitting in the landau for a while?”

“Oh no, I will be fine,” Pauline said. “I just am not in the mood to rush around.”

“Cousin Kate seems very eager to reach the center of the maze first, in any event. I wonder what she will demand of Uncle Quinn as reward.” Louisa met Sir Willoughby’s gaze and winked.

Hawkes’ lips quivered. Sharp-eyed Louisa had no doubt seen what he also had noticed: Quinn and Kate were interested, very interested, in each other. Lou, however, did not yet know Katherine Scoville’s secret. Hawkes wondered how Louisa would react to the deception.

They came to a branch in the path and disagreed on the proper course. Louisa and Sybilla were convinced the correct way was to the left, while Ambrose and Pauline believed the route to the center was straight on. Hawkes, a veteran of several romantic interludes in the location, favored the right, but not because he wished to reach the center of the maze. He did not particularly wish to be accompanied by Bryan and Sybilla. Devere was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Quinn, armed in advance with a plan of the maze, now waited in the center for his quarry. Having seen the determined glint in his Kate’s eyes, he knew she would find her way to the heart of the maze first.

He sat on a stone bench and wondered what she’d ask of him. He counted himself fortunate that Fashion now favored loose trousers rather than skin-tight, knitted pantaloons. The clear evidence of his emotions at the picnic had been disguised by his pants.

Kate had been subtly but outrageously flirtatious the entire day. Her pink sprigged muslin appeared to be worn over dampened, clinging petticoats. She met his eyes constantly, then let her dusky lashes sweep her flushed cheeks. She had even brushed against him once or twice as they toured Hampton Court Palace.

How on earth had she learned such wiles? And from where?

Quinn frowned. He’d have a great deal to say to this Elizabeth Telmont, of Miss Elizabeth’s School in Bath, if they ever met. Whatever was she teaching her young ladies?

But he had to credit Katherine with discretion as well as coquetry. She had frequently taken the arm of her friend Sybilla Farland to giggle with her over some joke. Kate had sat next to Bryan St. Wills at the picnic, choosing to use her eyes and her smile rather than proximity to tempt her guardian. Quinn doubted anyone else knew the little witch was torturing his feelings, except perhaps for Willoughby Hawkes. The sharp-eyed roué wouldn’t miss the byplay, since he already knew Kate’s identity as well as Quinn’s desire for the girl. And if Hawkes knew, there was a fair chance Louisa knew also. Quinn didn’t understand why Anna tolerated the growing intimacy between Hawkes and Louisa but, as it wasn’t his business, he kept his nose out of the affair.

Affair. That was the word, wasn’t it? He wanted to have an affair with his ward…or more.

His breath caught in his throat as Kate appeared at the gap in the hedge, then entered the center of the maze.

They were alone. A butterfly fluttered ’round the silk flowers on Kate’s bonnet. She untied the ribbon beneath her chin, then sat down next to him on the narrow bench.

* * *

Bryan and Sybilla had broken off from the rest of the group at the next junction in the maze, but found themselves at a dead end. “Oh dear,” remarked Sybilla placidly. “I fear we are lost.” She turned to Bryan and smiled.

* * *

Hawkes took her hand and led her into an isolated corner of the maze. Though greatly attracted by the rake, she now felt she had perhaps overstepped herself.

* * *

Pauline and Ambrose quarreled cheerfully about the route to the middle of the maze until they had actually made a complete circle of its rim and found themselves at the entrance.

“That’s it,” Pauline said. “My feet hurt in these wretched slippers, and I’m thirsty. Let’s go back to the landau and see if there’s any tea or lemonade.”

* * *

Kate smiled at Quinn. “I believe I’ve won your prize, my lord.”

“So what shall you demand of me, sweet Kate?” She tipped her head to one side and regarded him, still flirting with her eyes, her smile. He could tell she was nervous, yet expectant. He did not know if he should encourage her.

“I’m not quite sure yet.” She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip. “What do you have to give me, my lord?”

His voice rasped in his throat. “Quinn. Please, call me Quinn.”

“My lord Quinn,” she said, with just a trace of mocking good humor in her tone.

“Kate,” he said, taking her chin gently between his long, strong fingers. She quivered slightly but did not pull away as he stroked her cheek. Her response rippled through her body as he drew her into his arms.

Yes.
The first kiss was as sweet as he had known it would be. For a few moments, he forgot why he had denied his desire, and hers, for so long.

As he touched his lips to hers, it was as though a spark flashed between them, igniting their emotions.

Their mouths caressed and danced. When his tongue sought admission, she did not refuse him entry. He groaned as his embrace tightened, pulling her onto his lap. She reached up, touching his shoulders, tentatively at first, then with more confidence as their kiss deepened. Her arms wound around his neck as he held her close. He could feel her breasts, barely confined by the flimsy muslin, pressing against his chest. Her heartbeat was quick as a rabbit’s, and knowing she was excited aroused him all the more.

When they finally parted he regarded her with amazement. “My darling Kate. Where did you learn to kiss like that?”

She chuckled as she wriggled on his lap. He groaned as she unwittingly rubbed her backside against his erection. Good God, how he wanted her.

“Are you all right, Quinn?”

“I’m fine, sweetling, but let’s move you back onto the bench for now.” She shifted her weight, then let him entwine her fingers with his. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed each fingertip, then the back of her hand, appreciating the delicate interplay of bone and muscle. “That was not a rhetorical question. I am sure neither Aristophanes nor Homer discusses kissing in such detail.”

“I am not entirely book-learned, sir. I have had some small contact with boys.”

“‘Some small contact with boys’?” he repeated.

“Need I be outraged, my ward?”

She laughed again. “I trust not, my guardian. The brothers of my schoolmates would occasionally visit Miss Elizabeth’s, and I did steal a kiss or two.”

“And how do I compare?”

“Ummm…very well, I must say. You exhibit natural talent as well as considerable experience, my lord.”

“Oof!” Slapping his chest, Quinn affected a shot to the heart. “I suppose I deserved that.”

“Completely. I felt for a moment you were questioning my virtue.”

“Absolutely not. But you do exhibit natural talent as well as, um, some experience, my ward.” He looked down at her and smiled.

She met his gaze without a flinch, lifting her mouth to his again. “Only some experience, I assure you.” She broke off as they both heard shouts in the distance, followed by a rustle in the shrubbery.

Bryan and Sybilla dashed into the clearing, panting. “We’re being followed!” Bryan shouted. “It’s the oddest thing—”

A shot rang out. Quinn grabbed Kate to force her onto the ground beneath his body. Bryan protected Sybilla, whose aqua silk would never be the same after a tumble onto the damp grass.

Sir Willoughby Hawkes ran into the clearing. He brandished his unsheathed sword-cane in one hand.

His other arm was wrapped defensively around Louisa. Lou’s hair was disheveled, and her mouth, slightly swollen. Quinn was distracted by the thought that each couple appeared as though they had a delightful afternoon of dalliance, except for unexpected gunshots.

“What on earth is going on!” burst out Louisa.

“Where are Pauline and Ambrose?”

“I don’t know!” Quinn was deeply dismayed.

“Let’s get to the landau. Hopefully we’ll find them on the way out.”

“We should separate to search every

corner.”Nevertheless, Bryan did not loosen his hold on Sybilla.

“No! We’re stronger as a group.” Hawkes released Louisa and prowled the margins of the clearing, sword-cane at the ready.

“Better listen to him,” Quinn said. “He did fight at Waterloo.”

The rest of the party turned admiring eyes upon Sir Willoughby.

“You fought Napoleon?” Louisa sounded

breathless.

Hawkes’ lips thinned. “Yes, but this is not the time to discuss my past. Come, let’s away.” Dragging her by the hand, he left the clearing.

The others followed at a quick pace. They dashed out of the maze, encountering no one. Whoever had been responsible for the gunshot was gone.

As they left the maze, Quinn was astonished to see Ambrose and Pauline seated upon a blanket drinking tea as though nothing were amiss. Quinn’s landau was close by. A footman dozed on the grass while the groom walked the horses.

“Oh, there you are,” said Pauline. “Apple tart, anyone?”

The group rushed her en masse. “Did you see anyone leave the maze, Paul?” asked Quinn.

“No, Uncle Quinn, no one except that cully over there,” said Pauline.

Ambrose gestured with his teacup at a shabby figure in a greatcoat mounting a horse a distance away. The rider took off his tricorne and waved it at them with a flourish as he cantered down the lane toward Richmond.

* * *

When they returned to Bruton Street, Kate hauled Quinn into the library and rang for a footman. “Please request Sir Pen and Lady Anna to join us.” Quinn watched as she paced back and forth, back and forth, wondering what she had in mind. When her host and hostess entered, she was blunt. “It’s happened again, and I must leave.”

“What?” The Penroses stared at her, mystified.

Kate somehow managed to calm her breath.

“There was another attack.” Quinn began to demur, and she raised her hand and her voice. “No! Don’t argue with the evidence of mine own eyes and ears, Lord Devere. I know what happened.”

“Kate, be reasonable!”

“It’s more important for my friends to be safe than it is for me to be reasonable.”

“Where are you going to go, where? Katherine, I am your guardian and you shall do as I say!”

“How dare you put your family in danger!” He brought down his fist onto the table, which jumped from the force of his anger. “No one is in danger and I demand you hear me out!” He calmed his voice. “Katherine, I have hired the Bow Street Runners. Herbert and his cub are in Cornwall and what happened this afternoon has nothing to do with you! Stop believing you are the center of the world!” She stared at him. Her eyes filled. “That’s mean, Quinn.”

“Will someone please explain what has happened today?” Pen asked. “Kay, I gather another untoward event has taken place.”

She nodded, visibly miserable. Anna sat and pulled Kate down beside her, putting her arm around Kate’s shoulders. Katherine lost her composure completely and began to sob in Anna’s arms.

Anna looked up, glaring at Quinn. “Get out.”

“But—but—”

“Quinn, get out. You’ve done enough.”

Quinn turned. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he muttered to Pen as they left the room.

His brother-in-law raised his brows as he led Quinn into the drawing room and closed the doors.

Pen poured a brandy and handed it to Quinn. “When the ladies turn on the faucets, my boy, it’s best to leave them to their own devices. What steps have you taken to safeguard your ward?”

“I warned Badham off her, while convincing him I didn’t know where she is.”

“A fancy trick. How do you know they were persuaded?” Pen poured for himself.

“I put the Runners onto them. They have been followed to Cornwall, to Lady Kate’s holdings there.

Apparently the Gillender tin mines in Cornwall are the only properties they have not checked for her presence.”

“When did they leave?”

“Wednesday, late.”

“Four days ago. It isn’t likely that they’d be back in London for two or three more days,” mused Pen.

“You are right, this attack must be from another quarter. But who?”

* * *

Kate cried for a while, feeling guilty and wretched. When she finally emerged from Anna’s embrace, she looked at the older woman’s face. Kate was surprised to see a tender, maternal smile.

“Don’t you blame me for putting everyone in danger?”

“My dear Kate, this is absolutely not your fault.

Quinn is right in this instance,” Anna said tranquilly.

“He is your guardian and you must do as he says. Go to your room and wash your face, and you and Quinn will discuss what should be done.”

* * *

Kate faced Quinn with no pretense of equanimity.

Her fingers plucked the fabric of her skirt as she paced across the room. “My lord, it appears we are at an impasse.”

Quinn leaned against the mantle above the library fireplace and moodily kicked at the carved marble trim decorating the hearth.

“I would not have you so angry with me, Katherine,” he said at length. “Please accept my most sincere apology.”

“No, it was I who was at fault, my lord. You are my guardian and it is my obligation to do as you deem fit.”

He raised his head. “Such meekness is not characteristic of you, sweet Kate. What have you in store for me?”

She eyed him and frowned. “You are very suspicious. I am merely trying to make amends for my lack of appropriate gratitude and courtesy.”